by Pat Hauldren
“That’s alright,” she said. “I know all about diabetes.”
“You do?”
“Sure. Why do you think I agreed to come to your apartment tonight?” Suddenly, my image of her shifted to Florence Nightingale.
“I . . . dunno.”
“Just relax and let me do the work.”
I wanted to protest this, but was too far in the insulin shock. I watched in a daze as she pulled the bathrobe from around my shoulders and out from under me, then let the shift she’d worn slide down off of her and lay down on top of me. I didn’t expect to survive, but even the excess insulin couldn’t keep me from grinning at dying in the arms of a gorgeous woman like Susan. I half opened my eyes to watch. Her face almost shown with pleasure and happiness. That was when I noticed two of her teeth. They looked like they were growing. I opened my eyes all the way. Her canine teeth were almost an inch long now. Desperately, I wanted to get out from under her, to get away from there. I tried to move, but couldn’t. She was holding me firmly.
“What are you doing?”
“Relax sweetie. It’ll feel good.” She nuzzled her face in my neck. I felt a tiny stinging sensation, followed by a wave of pleasure sweeping over me, reaching all the way to my toes. She pulled back. Her mouth was bloody. The ecstasy still held me. Stupidly, I said, “Is that my blood?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“You’re a vampire?”
“Yes, and your blood is wonderful.”
“Wonderful?” I said. “How? I’m diabetic.”
“I know.”
“But my blood has to be awful.”
“Noooo,” she said. “Don’t you see? When you asked me to dinner, I knew you’d have to take extra insulin to soak up the extra glucose. Well, it soaked up all the blood sugar you had left. That’s why I took you to bed before you had time to eat and stuff yourself back up with rich food.”
“I don’t understand," I said.
“Well, when my bathroom scales this morning showed I had gained five pounds I knew I’d have to do fat-free blood for a couple of days. You’re the first meal on my new diet!”
***
M. L. Miller, (AKA Marielle Miller) writes adult and middle grade Fantasy, Urban Fantasy, and soft SF. Her first published work was at age 15, a poem entitled “Trail of Tears.” Other works include The Snow Dragon (Amazon), “The Worlds Below”, published by Big World Network, “Magpie Swamp” published by Abandoned Towers. www.mariellemiller.com.
LINES
by Marielle Miller
My ears were ringing. My eyes snapped upward toward the overpass support beams. Had something moved in the shadows? The saying 'read between the lines' popped into my head. I shivered--and not from cold. I locked my Prius and crossed the lot to the gaggle of officers standing around a lump on the pavement, my three-inch pumps clicking on the concrete. I noticed the only light came from emergency flashers.
Ed stood guard outside the strip of amber tape. He looked pale--even for a rookie. "Hi, Nora." He lifted the tape and I ducked under it. As I straightened, he shouted, "Hey, Lieutenant. Jefferson's here." He tilted his head to indicate Lieutenant Rhodes.
I headed toward the lead officer. He looked shaken; atypical for Rhodes. The man was as hard inside as outside. His square jaw clenched. How many times I had told him not to grind his teeth?
"What’s up?" I tipped my head toward the bundle at my feet and wrinkled my nose. It smelled like someone had forgotten to take out the trash.
Rhodes's steel eyes narrowed, then studied me up and down. "You're awfully dressed up for a crime scene."
Involuntarily, I checked my attire. "I have a talk later tonight."
"Sorry. Maybe you should forget this."
"I'm not going to get bloody, am I?"
He almost laughed, but shook his head. "Sure, you're up to this? It's pretty bad."
I cocked my head and twisted my lips. "Come on. You wouldn't have called if you didn't need me." I shrugged. "I can take it."
Rhodes tipped his chin sideways an inch with a doubtful look on his face. "Okay." He squatted and pulled the blanket off one end of--
"Oh, my god, what happened to--" I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman--or if it was even human. It looked like something stolen from a museum of natural history.
Rhodes shook his head. "That's why you're here. You sometimes get 'feelings'. I thought maybe— “
I curled my lip. "You really don't want me to touch that, do you?"
"It's not a “that”. It's Officer Ogle."
"What!" The blood drained to my feet and I knelt beside Rhodes to keep from keeling over. "That's impossible. That body looks mummified."
By way of proof, Rhodes held up a plastic bag containing Officer Ogle's badge and ID. "Found these on the...remains."
That explained the agitation I sensed and why Ed had been so pale. I reached for the baggie.
"May I?"
He handed it over.
"You know I have to touch it."
He nodded. "Already dusted and photo’d."
I took in a great gasp of air to steady myself and pulled the badge from the pouch. At first, it seemed like my abilities had taken a holiday. Or maybe I was more shaken than I had thought. Then my mind clouded, the ringing amplified in my ears, and everything around me became muffled. The lights dimmed and Rhodes disappeared into shadows. I thought I heard him calling, but from far away.
It took a long time for me to realize Rhodes was shaking me and yelling. As the streetlights brightened, I found myself surrounded by paramedics and cops. Rhodes leaned over me, steel eyes wide and moist.
"Hey, kiddo. Glad to see you back. You okay? What happened?"
"Mmrg." I licked my lips, swallowed hard, and tried again as Rhodes brushed a strand of black hair out of my eyes. "I'm not sure."
True enough, but I had a hunch that terrified me. My eyes drifted toward the overpass. The shadows there shifted, then settled. "I think something came after me."
Rhodes's head whipped around. His hand slapped his weapon. After a quick inspection of our surroundings, he turned his attention back to me. His eyes registered shock and worry. "You mean someone."
I shook my head, then froze to let the world stop spinning. "I need to do some digging, but I don't think a someone did that." I pushed my elbows against the ground to lift myself."
"Easy." Rhodes placed a hand on my shoulder. "You went down like a rock. Don't get up too fast."
He took my right hand in his and put his left around me to help me up. A neat trick. I probably weighed as much as he did. I brushed down my skirt and caught a glimpse of my hose.
"Damn." I kicked off my heels, unceremoniously pulled of my ruined nylons, then shoved my feet back into my shoes. "Don't have time to go home for new ones."
Rhodes turned me to face him. "You're not still going to your talk, are you?"
If I'd worn glasses, I would have locked eyes with him over the rims. "I'm not independently wealthy."
"Then let me drive you."
"Sweet, but not happening. Police publicity at a gig could ruin my rep." I put my hand on his forearm. "Thanks, but no. Seriously, though--" I studied the overpass where odd shadows filled the lines between the girders. "--watch your back...and get out of here as soon as you can. I'll call when I figure this out."
Rhodes's lips tightened and I heard his teeth grind. I flashed a warning look at him.
"I'll be okay, Rhodes. Just take care of yourself."
It took three days to research and collect the palo santo wood and essential oil. I ground some of the wood into incense and kept the rest as backup. I blended a protection ointment with the oil. I always carried black tourmaline and wore emeralds. Creating the powdered potion and spell took the most time. One incorrect word and Rhodes would find me on the pavement like Ogle.
I didn't update Rhodes or tell him I was revisiting the crime scene. He would be in more danger than I was. Besides, he would have tied and gagged me to keep me aw
ay from there after what had happened the night of the...what? ...murder? If what I suspected was true, it had been more of a feasting.
I couldn't say I wasn't scared. I would have been a fool not to be, but I had a job to do. I just hoped my plan worked.
As soon as I parked, my ears started ringing. They were still there. Good for my plan, maybe not so good for me. In a heavy cauldron, I built a fire with the palo santo wood, keeping a piece to use as a matchstick.
As I worked, I sensed them sliding down from between the girder supports, but refused to look at them. I anointed myself and five candles with the oil, then drew a circle around me and my work space. Placing the candles on the perimeter, I lit them beginning in the North.
The things slowed down, but crept closer. I could see the shadows in my peripheral vision. A vertigo swept over me from the tinnitus. It felt as though my eardrums would burst. I wondered if Ogle had heard them too.
Bad thinking. Back to work.
My hair told me which way the wind was blowing. Good; toward the shadows. I stirred the oil into a small dish of water and set it near the cauldron. I then repeated that with the incense and lit it. Scented smoke that calmed and reassured me bloomed from the burner.
Picking up the water, I sprinkled it around my protective circle, careful not to splash outside it. I wanted those monsters as close as possible. Then I smudged the circle with the incense. I was as ready as I was going to be.
I picked up a jar of powder created especially for the banishment, closed my eyes and--heard a car door slam.
"Nora!"
Damn it, Rhodes, what the hell are you doing here?
My concentration broken, I spun around to warn Rhodes, but he was halfway across the street and the shadow creatures had already spotted him.
"Rhodes! Get out of here!"
He froze, staring dumbly at the blackness streaking toward him. Maybe, if he had run, he could have escaped; maybe not. I'd never know.
As they picked up speed, the shadows shifted into emaciated nightmare demons: tigers, fanged horses, skeletal humanoid figures with claws like dragons; all carnivorous. As they flanked and surrounded Rhodes, blocking my view, I heard an unearthly scream.
For precious seconds, my pounding heart immobilized me. Everything moved lightning fast and yet in slow motion. My racing mind finally broke me from my terror. I closed my eyes and focused on the preparations I had made.
As my core calmed, the spell crystalized in my thoughts and I started chanting. I felt energy build inside me, drawn from earth and air around me. It whirled and grew in strength until I could barely control it.
"Things of darkness, I command you."
They ignored me. Food was too easily claimed where they were.
"All my words you must obey."
They paused.
"If my soul is your desire, all of you must come my way."
Some of the creatures looked at me. Some moved toward me. All of them turned away from Rhodes. But was it in time? I continued. They needed to be closer.
I repeated the chant; and thrice. By then, they had seemingly forgotten the easy feast that lay motionless nearby. I extended my energy toward the beasts like delicate, teasing fingers; luscious meat for their hungry tongues. My psyche felt them drooling over me in anticipation and my stomach turned.
They prowled closer, snarling and snapping; vying for position. Three feet more; two feet; few more inches. That was all I needed. I held up the jar to release the powder into the air, then stopped. The wind; it was to their backs. Their crazed chase to Rhodes had put them on the wrong side!
With every nerve firing, I brainstormed and calculated. The words I found would have to do. There was no time to perfect them.
"The beast that hunts upwind shall lose. Thus, young and weak remain unfed. The wise and quick shall downwind be, to win the fight and beat the dead."
The creatures hesitated, glaring at each other. Then scraping and clawing, they fought their way to my other side: downwind from me, where my powder would blow directly at them. I held up the jar and waved it back and forth, gently shaking the powder into the wind. It drifted toward the monsters, spreading out and engulfing them.
When each creature came into contact with the potion, it writhed with an ear-piercing scream before dissolving into a black cloud that dispersed into nothingness. The shadows between the overpass girders softened, lightened, and stilled. They were just shadows. The ringing in my ears stopped.
I shook with exhaustion. Quickly, I opened my circle, sprinted to my car for my cell phone, then dialed 911 before running to Rhodes. Kneeling beside him, I rolled him to his back. My heart clenched. He was a ghost of his former self. Hollow cheeks and atrophied muscle replaced the rugged man whom I realized I had come to love. My chin collapsed to my chest and tears dampened my cheeks.
A soft brush against my arm drew my attention before the voice did. "Hey, kiddo. You okay?" It was hoarse and dry, barely above a whisper, but I recognized it.
"Rhodes?" It came out a squeak. "Why did you come out here?"
He made a soft 'harrumph'; a laugh maybe? "Protect you." His steel eyes drifted over his emaciated arm and his brow crinkled. "Lost weight."
A tiny chuckle broke from my throat. "Don't worry. You know those fad diets. You'll gain it all back and more before you know it."
The corners of his mouth turned upward as sirens came into hearing range. I gave the quiet shadows between lines of the girders one more good look. Hopefully I had gotten them all.
***
Whether she’s racing her Arabian horses through the woods, rapid firing her .45, or gargoyling from local rooftops, Becky Burkheart finds it hard to stay grounded in the real world. Although she has yet to ride in a space ship (she did get to simulate crashing a 727) or to meet a real vampire (that she's aware of), anachronistic dress, "QaQ poHmey" and pints of brew are standard fare on the odd weekend. Find Becky’s work st Amazon.com & elsewhere. www.beckyburkheart.com.
THE GARDEN SHAD
by Becky Burkheart
There was a shad in the garden this morning.
Of course, I didn't know it was a shad. Some types of shad live in the gulf, but I'm just a spit south of the Red River. I thought it was just a fish but all I know about fish is that cichlids jump out if you don't have a lid on the tank.
It was kinda pretty, silvery and sparkly-blue with a row of black dots – except for being dead.
"Morning, Jessie. Is that a shad in your garden?"
Damn nosey neighbor. I smiled. "Morning, Rob." I crossed my arms and rocked back on my heels, surveying what was apparently a shad – pretty-boy Rob was an ass, but he did know about fish. "Yep. An eight pounder. Just came in this morning."
"Why?"
Why? I rolled my eyes. Idiot.
"You gonna bury it to feed the crepe myrtles? It won't matter, they're going to die anyway."
"No, Rob. I'm not going to bury in order to hasten the death of the Myrtles." I had named the myrtles Myrtle. "I'm going to leave it right where it landed so when the Fla'aagaaniatians come through the anomalic rift in the space time continuum they'll bounce left and go on to the next parallel."
His handsome lips twisted in an arrogant smirk – the one his endless string of girlfriends probably never saw – when a brilliant white-hot light burst just above the shad, shot left and disappeared. The shad flared, sizzled and poofed out of existence in the afterburn.
Rob cleared his throat. The smirk, of course, was gone.
"Myrtles look good." He stared at the charred ground where the shad had been. He cleared his throat again. Very unRoblike. "I didn't know you knew about that stuff."
I just shrugged. Maybe I knew about a lot of stuff. And the Myrtles did look good. Robust. And their color seemed brighter.
***
Brian lives in Texas and writes while running a modest small business. He’s always been fascinated with stories, theology, psychology, science, and a host of other intriguing subjects. V
isit him at www.bncarman.com for more about him and for updates on the next installment in the Winter’s Edge series and other book series to come.
WINTER’S EDGE
by B. N. Carman
The following is an excerpt from Winter’s Edge, book one in the Winter’s Edge Series.
Setting the Scene
There are people in the world with powers which usually manifest before age seventeen. But the world at large has no clue about it, because an ominous shadow government has teams of Hunters who kill these people or recruit them to their cause.
Our hero, Ian Sharp, is searching for Elian Frost, the only person who might be able to help Ian find the hidden, underground city again—Winter’s Edge—so he can save Abby Pierce and the others from a Hunter mole who’s murdering citizens one by one. Brother Lawrence claims to know Elian.
The following scene begins shortly after Ian and Brother Lawrence have set off toward the mountains near Denver, Colorado, in an Aston Martin Vanquish in search of Elian. There’s a very good reason why Ian’s driving such an expensive exotic car, but that’s not important for this excerpt.
Excerpt from Winter’s Edge
As we drove through Denver, Brother Lawrence suddenly pointed to an exit. “Take this one.”
I jerked the car to the right, barely making the exit. “Can you give me a little more warning next time?”
“I gave you as much warning as I had.” The monk seemed content with the answer. Was the Light going to drive us off a cliff next?
The monk pointed me into a small gift shop a few blocks away and we parked. “The Light says there are very nice souvenirs inside.” He opened his door.
“So we’re on vacation now?”
“Oh, vacation!” He headed for the gift shop with excitement in his eyes. “That sounds delightful!”