The Sorcerer King and the Fire Queen

by Ana Lee Kennedy

  The waitress appeared and jotted down our orders. She removed two laminated cards from her apron pocket, placed them on the tabletop, and then hurried to the kitchen with our tickets.

  I picked up one of the cards. A list of desserts, ice cream drinks, and sundaes covered both sides of it. One in particular caught my attention, and I blinked, disbelieving my eyes.

  “This has got to be a joke.”

  “You mean Loretta’s Million-Dollar Fudge Cake?” Maureen asked.

  “Yeah, who would give a million dollars to someone for guessing the secret ingredient?”

  “I would,” a steely feminine voice said behind me.

  A tall, stately woman in her late fifties stared down at me. Her deep brown gaze met mine, and for an instant, an odd sensation wriggled through me. A gold clip secured a twist of thick gray hair to the back of her head. Matching earrings hung from her lobes. She held a water pitcher in one hand and gestured wildly with her other. Big gems sparkled on the fingers of her right hand.

  “Ask any of my regulars if I’ll honor my claim,” she continued. “I’m Loretta Detzer, proprietress of this café.”

  She focused on me again. A shiver of unease flowed down my back.

  “The cake recipe has been handed down through my family.”

  “If it’s so important, why give a million dollars to someone for guessing the secret ingredient?” Maureen folded her arms on the table edge and regarded Loretta with a look of awe, mouth ajar, eyes round.

  “Because I can.” The woman smiled slyly and walked away. She wandered about the café refilling water glasses and exchanging bits of gossip with her customers. Dressed in simple white slacks and a red summer blouse, she exuded power and wealth.

  “Why would such a wealthy woman reside in this tiny, backwoods area?” I mused.

  Maureen shrugged. “What about you? Do you have family in Columbus?”

  “Just my father.”

  “No mother?”

  “She died when I was a teenager.”

  “I’m sorry.” Something in her eyes conveyed she truly understood my loss. “You don’t have anyone else in or around Columbus?”

  I shook my head. “Not that I’m aware of. Dad doesn’t like to talk about the Nutters. Whenever I’ve pressed him for details it upsets him.”

  “Have you ever asked him why it bothers him?”

  I rubbed away a greasy smear on the dessert menu. “Yes. He gets pissed and says, ‘The past is in the past, Ruby’ so I stopped asking.”

  Maureen leaned forward, her boobs pressing against the table edge. The cleavage deepened, and I wondered if I should dive for cover. She cocked her head to one side and studied me intently.

  “Ruby, what happened back at the rest area?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re lying to me.”

  I feigned interest in the dessert menu. “Maybe.”

  “You can trust me.”

  “Just drop it, okay?”

  “Why are you traveling to Florida?” she asked.

  “It’s none of your business.”

  She didn’t even blink. “Come on, Ruby. You can tell me.”

  “Why are you traveling to Florida?” I countered.

  At that, she sobered. Unease and insecurity flitted through her eyes. “I have something I have to take care of in Florida,” she said, her tone subdued. She looked away.

  A few tables to our left, a baby wailed in its mother’s arms. Maureen watched with a strange, melancholic expression on her pretty face.

  “Like what?” I pressed.

  “I don’t feel like talking about it right now.” She focused on the jukebox where an old man jabbed buttons as he perused the selections.

  Shrugging, I settled back in my seat and watched the jukebox’s decorative bubble tubes as they pulsed from bright blue to neon pink. “The Devil Went down to Georgia” filtered out of the ceiling sound system.

  Our waitress set a steaming plate of food in front of each of us just as Loretta appeared at our tableside. She placed two dessert plates, heavy with thick slices of fudge cake, on the tabletop and stood with hands on hips. I met the elderly woman’s gaze and sensed power. What sort of power, I wasn’t certain, but whatever it was forced the hair to tighten on my nape.

  “The cake is on the house,” Loretta announced. She seated herself in one of the empty chairs. “Now, I have a business proposition I’d like to discuss with you.”

  My appetite evaporated. Staring eyeball to eyeball with someone while I’m trying to eat tends to do that.

  “Have a seat.” The remark popped out of my mouth before I could stop it, my tone scathing.

  Loretta looked hard at me. Her eyes weren’t dark brown at all. They were hazel green like mine, but something about hers was enough to send me screaming out into the parking lot.

  “What’s on your mind?” Maureen asked around a mouthful of potatoes.

  I shot her a warning glance, but she ignored it.

  “I overheard your discussion about Florida.” Loretta leaned closer, her perfume, a curious blend of incense and cinnamon, wafted over me. “Since you’re going there, I’d like you to drive to Key West for me. I want you to bring something back.”

  “I’m not running drugs,” I said quickly.

  She burst out laughing. “It’s not drugs. It’s an important document.”

  “If it’s so important, then have it sent here by a courier,” I replied.

  “I don’t trust the postal system or private couriers with this particular document.” Loretta leaned back in her chair and crossed her long legs.

  I breathed a little easier and finished the last few bites of my meal.

  “Oh, come on,” Maureen said, slurping her Coke. “What’s it going to hurt to pick up a document and bring it back for her?”

  I made a mental tally that this was the second time my Marilyn Monroe wannabe had opened her big mouth and obligated us. Rankled, I shot her a shut-the-hell-up look.

  “We’re going to Florida anyway,” she added. “Traveling through The Keys would be nice too.”

  The fork, which I squeezed too hard, bit into my fingers, and I let go of it. The utensil dropped to the plate with a loud clink. Maureen’s gaze met mine across the table. Déjà vu struck me again.

  “Would you please shut up,” I said, voice low, the warning tone enough to cause my hitcher’s hair to burst into flames.

  “I think driving to Key West together would be fun.”

  “Who said you were going all the way to Key West with me?”

  “Well, I…” A glassy sheen slipped over Maureen’s eyes. “I just thought maybe…”

  If she started crying, I’d walk out and lay down in traffic. My gaze moved to Loretta’s, who stared back with amusement.

  I asked, “Why would you trust us with something so important?”

  “Let’s just say I have a knack for knowing a person’s character.” Loretta smiled.

  Maureen finished the last bite of her dinner and shoved the plate aside. “She means she senses she can trust you.”

  “Are you incapable of keeping your mouth shut?” I snapped.

  She shot me a wounded look, but upon seeing the slice of cake by her elbow, she brightened. Briefly, I regretted yelling at Maureen, but the woman could get under my skin in a nanosecond.

  “I’ll make it worth your while.” Loretta continued with her soul-stabbing look and tapped her nails lightly on the tabletop.

  As if I were one of those bobble-head dogs motorists place in their rear windows, my head swiveled back to her. I studied her for a few seconds, and, with suspicion thick in my voice, asked, “How?”

  The woman’s grin widened. “I’ll pay you five thousand now and you’ll receive another ninety-five grand at the address where you pick up the document.” She held out a long-fingered, bejeweled hand. “All you have to do is bring the envelope back here to my café.”

  “Ruby,” Maureen said around a mouthful of fudge cake. “
That’s one hundred thousand dollars!”

  “No shit,” I replied without looking at her.

  “Well?” the proprietress urged, still holding out her hand.

  I couldn’t resist. As of yesterday I was officially unemployed, and with the economy in shambles, the money would help me get by until I found another job. No matter how hard I fought it, no matter how loud that voice in my head shouted not to do it, I still placed my hand in Loretta’s. Her fingers snapped around mine, her grip steely, almost painful.

  A horrible feeling thundered over me as though I’d just shaken hands with the Devil.

  Chapter Five

  After Loretta and I worked out the details of our business proposition, I ate my slice of cake. It tasted of pure, sinful chocolate so moist it was almost pudding. Afterward, I felt odd, and a huge ball of unease settled in my gut.

  Gulping down some water, I scribbled a note of thanks and asked our waitress give it to Wayne Blacktree when he returned.

  Maureen and I spotted a ladies room sign over a hallway entrance. As I crossed the café with her in tow, my gaze slid to where I’d seen the pale stranger.

  He was gone.

  Disappointment crashed through me.

  Stymied by the sensation, I entered the restroom and made use of the facilities. Disgruntled that Mr. Enigma had left, I reached for the door, needing some time alone to think, which was exceedingly difficult with Maureen’s constant prattling.

  “I’ll wait for you in the parking lot,” I told her.

  “You’re not going to leave me here, are you?” She rinsed suds from her hands.

  Actually the thought had crossed my mind. I paused with my hand on the doorknob, guilt tiptoeing through my heart. “What?”

  “You’re going to dump me here, aren’t you?”

  A stormy sigh burst from me. “No, I won’t dump you...yet.”

  She seemed satisfied with my answer and smiled.

  With needles of aggravation stabbing my skin, I stepped into the hall.

  Standing in the dimly lit corridor, I secured my purse strap over my shoulder. A wad of one hundred-dollar bills resided in an inconspicuous section of my purse. Later, I’d stash the five grand somewhere safer. Loretta wanted us to telephone her a couple times before we drove through the Keys. Although Maureen and I wouldn’t receive the pending ninety-five grand until we reached the pickup point, Loretta still wanted the peace of mind that we were following through with our end of the bargain.

  But, if I were in Loretta’s shoes, I would’ve offered another five grand at the Key West pickup point, and then paid the pending sum when we returned to West Virginia.

  Pausing, I considered this notion. Did the woman trust us that much? Or was it something else?

  I put the phone number in the same place as the money.

  The fact that I was now bound to the ditzy woman humming to herself in the bathroom bothered me almost as much as the deal with Loretta did. I liked Maureen well enough, but she grated on my nerves so much I wanted to lash out at her over the least little thing. It wasn’t a good sign, especially for a long trip to Key West and back. Even worse, I felt badly for being so catty. It was part of my curse. Hurt before getting hurt, and then regret it when the person turned out to be harmless.

  I’m the one who wanted a friend.

  Heck, with a hundred grand I could go wherever I wanted, and if I invested a chunk of it wisely, the interest might allow me to live comfortably. However, I regretted being single. It would be nice to have a relationship with a man who didn’t wig out every time I blew something up or set the sofa on fire. I’d always told myself a woman didn’t need a man to survive. A good dildo with a steady supply of batteries can be a girl’s best friend, but a battery-operated boyfriend can’t share hopes and dreams.

  The door to the men’s restroom opened, and my fair stranger stepped out into the hall as my composure stepped out of the building. Blood rushed through my ears so loudly that when he said something to me, all I heard was boom-boom-boom.

  Finally, words sifted into my brain. “Are you all right?”

  I blinked. “Uh...yeah.”

  He walked closer, and the hall closed in on me. The corridor disappeared, and instead of floral wallpaper and soft overhead lights, I saw flat gray stones of a castle passage and a floor covered in rushes. A man stood with his back to me. A heavy black robe trimmed in gold flowed over his shoulders to the floor where it dragged along behind him. Pale hair hung down the robe, and I caught a glimmer of gold encircling his head.

  “Hey.”

  A gentle hand patted my cheek.

  My eyelids fluttered open, and I found myself leaning back in Mr. Enigma’s arms, his face inches from mine, concern in his white-blue eyes.

  Those eyes…I “knew” those eyes. His were the ones I’d seen in my lucid flashes and dreams. The world tilted slightly, and my breath caught.

  “Sorry,” I whispered. “I have these spells.”

  “You sort of blanked out, then started to fall,” he said. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  Heat radiated from his body, warming me to the bone, and sending more warmth to pool in my lower abdomen. It was then I noticed fine scars crisscrossing his face. On the Interstate, I’d caught only a glimpse of the nasty one that traced a jagged line from his left ear and down the side of his neck.

  His ice-chip colored eyes conveyed something powerful buried deep within him. Chemistry zipped back and forth between us. The feelings bombarding me raced past pleasant attraction and leapt straight into the need for let’s-find-the-nearest-broom-closet sex.

  “Ruby?”

  The sudden urge to stab Maureen replaced everything.

  He raised his head and straightened with me still in his arms. Leaning me against the wall, he smiled down into my face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes.” At five-feet-eleven-inches tall, I still had to stare up at him. “I’m fine. It’s going away now.”

  “My name’s Solomon Xavier,” he said.

  “Ruby Nutter.”

  “And I’m Maureen,” my hitchhiker chirped behind us.

  “I guess your friend was right,” he said.

  “About?” I sensed he was going to leave me. At the thought, tears pricked the backs of my eyes. Tears? What the hell was that all about?

  “She said we’d meet again.”

  The interest in his eyes nearly bowled me over. Unable to dredge up a response, I stared back at him hoping I didn’t look as stupid as I felt.

  “Well, it was nice seeing you again.” His gaze bored into mine. He brushed a curly tendril back from my face.

  The action was so sweet, so poignant. I almost sobbed with the emotion it stirred within me. Again, I marveled at the feelings the guy churned inside me and pondered why he had such a profound effect on me.

  With a last soft smile, he turned and strode down the corridor.

  “Nice ass,” Maureen whispered. “I bet he’s good in bed too.”

  I gaped at her.

  “Shoot, Ruby. This is the first time I’ve ever seen you at a loss for words.”

  Laughter spilled out of her, and the sounds of the diner with its chattering customers seeped into my world again.

  He was gone, and my life was back to normal.

  Well, that was if I could call living with my curse and Titzilla normal.

  ****

  Forty-five minutes later, we drove across the Virginia state line.

  “Look, Ruby!” Maureen nearly poked me in the ear pointing at a sign. “An oddities museum. Let’s stop.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Better yet, why should we?”

  “Because they’re neat!” she said with the enthusiasm of a ten-year-old.

  “I don’t want to visit a ramshackle building full of various animal parts glued together.” I hugged the white line as a tractor-trailer whizzed by. “It’s probably managed by Billy Bob an
d Bobby Sue too.”

  “Please?”

  At her pleading tone I ground my teeth together.

  “We’re supposed to reach Key West as soon as possible. We’ve barely driven into Virginia.” I sneaked a look at her, knowing I’d see her horrible pout. “Plus, I’m going to be in Florida at least a couple days before we can move on through the Keys.”

  Instead of her pout, tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “What the hell are you bawling about?” Gawping at her, I nearly ran off the road.

  “You’re mean!”

  “For God’s sake, Maureen! You’re not a baby!”

  “See?” She sobbed harder.

  “All I see is a childish woman with boobs that can smother the—”

  My head started throbbing. Tingles invaded my palms. No, I couldn’t risk a display of my power. But then again, maybe it would scare her badly enough I could dump her off.

  Ready to pull over and throttle her, I shouted, “Aw, screw this!”

  Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to visit the museum on the premise of appeasing Maureen. I could hand her half the five grand and drive away. However, what would stop her from finding a ride to Key West and making the pickup on her own? The reality of what I’d done by letting her continue to tag along slammed into me.

  Tears streaked Maureen’s makeup, and snot dribbled from her nose. A wave of guilt rolled over me so intensely my breath hitched. Although there was something about her that caused temporary insanity, I knew too well how it felt to have someone treat me like shit, and the fact that I was the one now doing it made me feel as if I were an inch tall. Guilt turned into a steamroller and it flattened me.

  In the passenger seat, Maureen sniffed in a very un-lady like manner that made me wonder if she had any brain cells left.

  “Son of a bitch,” I muttered and opened the console between the seats. “There’s a travel pack of tissues in there somewhere.”

  For the next three miles, I fumed at myself for my nastiness and Maureen’s repetitious sniffles. I gritted my teeth until my jaw ached. The exit appeared ahead, and I flipped on the turn signal. A big, bright road sign declared: Gasoline, Souvenirs and The Museum of Nature’s Oddities.