Fire and Fantasy: A Limited Edition Collection of Urban and Epic Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  The dragon chuckled. “Smell her out? What century are you living in? I can find her without leaving the cave. Do you have her link number?”

  Caitlin nodded, rattling off the identifier from memory. Zero turned back to his interface.

  “Watch and learn,” he said smugly, lacing his fingers together to crack his knuckles. His fingers flew across it so fast she couldn’t tell what he was doing.

  Lines of code formed on the main display, as if they were already there instead of him creating them. After a few minutes, he clapped his hands together. A box opened on the main display, showing a map of the island with a glowing star where she was.

  “That’s an odd place to hold a captive,” he said.

  It definitely was. They were south of the Santa Rosa mall by a half mile in an average, middle-class residential subdivision.

  “What do you think?” Agathon asked. “If we take out golden boy, will he attract the wrong kind of attention?”

  She glanced over at Wash. He’d started talking to Zero about the game, and she suddenly had no doubt he’d known what he was doing when he started engaging Zero on the subject. Damn, he was clever.

  She felt a warmth of admiration rise up in her, adding to the already scrambled, desperate feelings that were there.

  And then there was the blue light of the display carving out his profile, and the strong line of his shoulders. Why did he have to be so good-looking, on top of all of that?

  “He’s only shiny when his spirit is manifesting power,” she told Agathon. “He should be fine.”

  “We’d better hope he is. I don’t think we can escape Osiris’ witch a second time.” Agathon unconsciously reached up and rubbed his neck. Caitlin couldn’t disagree, but she didn’t want to leave Wash behind.

  “Why don’t you just let me go?” Agathon asked. “This is what I’m trained for, after all. I should have her back in the fold in a few hours, and this will all be a happy memory. You and the sailor can hang out here and… why are you looking at me like that?”

  Of course. How had she not seen it before? She’d been so busy with wash and her sister’s predicament. Now it occurred to her that Agathon showing up had awful convenient timing. Timing she couldn’t ignore. The last thing she wanted to do now was let him out of her sight.

  “Just admiring your bravery, Aggy. I’ve always liked that about you,” she said, giving her his best smile.

  He grinned. She’d hit the right note there.

  “I think we should all stick together,” Caitlin said. “A team like this isn’t keeping Daphne captive without some magic involved. Capable as you are, Aggy, you’re gonna need me.”

  He shrugged. “If you insist. Let’s get out of here.” Without a backward glance, he turned and headed for the exit. She watched him go for a solid twenty seconds, peering at him as if she could read his mind if only she looked hard enough. Whatever secret he was holding, it was well hidden.

  Eleven

  “I hate to agree with Agathon,” Caitlin grumbled, “but with Osiris hunting you, the safest place is in a crowd.”

  Wash ran his hand over his face, trying to massage out the tired. She was right, of course. He still didn’t like the idea of leaving her. She was incredibly capable, which she’d proven time and again, but the thought unsettled him in a way he couldn’t explain. Was he reluctant to leave her with Agathon? That was ridiculous. But what if they got in over their heads?

  Idiot. If it was something she and Agathon couldn’t handle, how could he? And she probably wasn’t wrong about Osiris. From what she’d told him, whatever was inside him was acting like a beacon.

  Still. He didn’t like it.

  It had only taken them an hour or so to get to the Santa Rosa mall, a half hour more to grab some new clothes so they wouldn’t have to go through this whole thing in swimwear.

  The sun had long since vanished over the horizon and now the city was lit with bright lights of homes, schools, and stores. The trade winds had picked up as they stood in the parking lot, carrying away the day’s balmy warmth, and edging the ocean breeze with a slight chill.

  Caitlin had picked out his clothes, and of course, they were probably the most expensive ones in the whole place. He knew money wasn’t a huge concern for her, but it still made him a little uncomfortable to wear an outfit that cost more than he made in a month.

  The clothes didn’t make him uncomfortable, though. They fit perfectly, and the fit was fantastic.

  Caitlin was effortlessly chic, of course, in distressed jeans, a gray sweater, and knee-high black boots.

  “Give us a second, Agathon,” she said to the elf without looking at him. Agathon shrugged and wandered off toward the front of the veritable tank they were driving.

  Standing here with her, alone, he wanted nothing more than to hold her. Everything she said, and everything he had told her be damned.

  Instead, he mustered his courage. “Caitlin, I trust what you’re saying, it just doesn’t feel right,” he said, speaking low so only she could hear him. Then, he hesitated, knowing he shouldn’t say what he was about to say. “It doesn’t feel right to be away from you.”

  She smiled up at him, and he thought he could see some sadness in her green eyes. Right now, more than anything else, he wished he could wipe that sadness away. To comfort her, and tell her everything would be okay. That she didn’t have to look forward to the rest of her life with dread bordering on desperation.

  That he would make everything better.

  His finger was grazing her cheek. He didn’t remember raising his hand, but he couldn’t look away.

  And suddenly, he was kissing her. He wasn’t sure who had moved first, but her soft lips were on his, and for one brief, electrifying moment, there was nothing else.

  To hell with it. To hell with all of it. If he was inviting nothing but heartbreak, at least it would be suffering he chose. He hadn’t chosen anything for so damn long. All he did was allow the world and everyone in it to act upon him. He never chose.

  He wanted to choose. He wanted to choose her.

  His hands gripped her shoulders, harder than they should, and he turned his head, kissing her deeply and with all the raging, desperate passion he felt.

  She was crushed against him, then, her whole body, fingers in his hair, kissing him back with every bit as much fervency.

  A blaring horn startled them apart, and a car drove past. The passenger leaned out of the window.

  “Yeah, man! Whoo!” the man cried. “Get some!”

  Wash glared in fury at the car as it retreated, before looking back to Caitlin.

  “It’s always something, isn’t it?” he said to her, wishing he could roll back time.

  “Seems like it.” Taking a deep breath, she patted his chest. “It’s going to be okay, Wash. Agathon is trained for this sort of thing, and I have my magic. The spirit inside you will be hidden here, among all the people in the mall. That many spirits, in one place, will keep Osiris from singling you out. We shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

  It pained him more than he could say as she pulled away, and her hand slid down his arm. He squeezed her hand for a moment, holding her fast, and then she was gone, walking around the side of the SUV. She banged on it a couple of times to let Agathon know it was time to go.

  Wash took a few steps back. The SUV roared to life as it pulled out of the stall. Inside the vehicle, she buckled in and said something to Agathon that he couldn’t hear.

  Then, as the SUV drove off he watched her. Just as it was about to turn out onto the road, he saw her shift in the seat to look back at him. Her hand went to her lips and she blew him a kiss, and then she was gone.

  Wash stood there for a few minutes, gazing at the space she’d been in. His heart was pounding, blood surging through him. To the best of his recollection, he couldn’t ever remember feeling this way.

  It won’t last.

  A voice, vast and deep, spoke inside him.

  You’re a winter flower
to her impending spring.

  Wash jumped, turning, even though he knew the voice had come from inside his mind.

  “Hello?”

  A coldness swept over him as if he were immersed in water, but there was no response. Wash stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked to the entrance of the mall. An involuntary shiver ran down his spine and he couldn’t help the feeling of dread creeping up on him.

  He wished whatever was in him would just make itself known and not play these games with his mind.

  Caitlin cast a sly glance at Agathon as they sat in the cab of his SUV, waiting.

  They’d found the house easy enough, but there were no lights on and no sign of life. She wanted to wait until the moon was obscured by clouds before going in.

  She also hoped, if she waited long enough, she could call a spirit to search the house for her. The neighborhood was, spiritually speaking, quiet. Which meant she had to wait for one to come by… or go on foot and search it the old fashioned way.

  The neighborhood was old enough that it should have a spirit, not unlike the hotels. They tended to be easily spooked and hid when new people were present. Even the humans could feel it, despite the fact they couldn’t communicate with it. So far, though, nothing.

  In the meantime, it left her a few moments with Agathon, and she had questions.

  “Ask,” he said, tapping his fingers in a rhythmic pattern on the wheel.

  She felt a spike of resentment, which she quickly squashed. As little as she liked it, and despite that she’d been off the island for so long, he still knew her better than anyone alive. They’d spent practically her entire childhood together.

  “It isn’t that I don’t appreciate your help, I really do,” she said, with all the genuine feeling she could muster and put a hand on his arm. “I’m just curious, why were you here to begin with?”

  His body tensed as she touched him, then relaxed and he shot her a megawatt smile, one carefully cultivated. After she refused him, when she was sixteen, he’d made sure she knew he could have any girl he wanted. The memory of their youth soured her emotions, but she did her best not to let it show.

  “It really isn’t important now, just Vasilikí business.” Something about the way his voice pitched at the end of his sentence told her he wasn’t speaking the whole truth. However, before she could say anything, the garage door of the house they were watching suddenly opened.

  A fancy sports car with mirror tinted windows backed out while revving its engine. Once on the road, it burned rubber for a few seconds before spinning halfway around to point at the sidewalk. The engine stalled. After a few moments, the driver had it moving again, driving over the curb before speeding off.

  “Idiot,” muttered Agathon.

  Caitlin only half heard him. She was out the door and running for the garage before he’d finished speaking.

  “Caitlin!” he whispered loudly after her.

  The garage door was already shutting, and she didn’t have much time. She put everything she had into her sprint, and she dove into the tiny space between the closing door above and the sensor below. Her back grazed the leading edge, and she hit the concrete, rolling.

  Ow. That was going to bruise, but she was in.

  “What are you doing?” came Agathon’s muffled voice from the outside.

  “Meet me around front,” she whispered back. The garage was empty. Not clean and spacious—completely empty. No boxes or leftover building supplies, nothing. Whoever was here, they hadn’t been here for long.

  The garage had two doors, one leading to the outside and one to the house, and both were closed. Caitlin pressed her ear up against the door leading to the house. While her hearing was better than the average human, it wasn’t supernatural. She heard nothing.

  Running her hand along the door, she reached out with her senses looking for a spark of magical energy that would alert her to a ward or barrier of some kind. Nothing.

  Her hand hovered over the door knob. Was it alarmed? Her realm was magic and she tended to forget there were other possibilities. She sighed. She honestly had no choice at this point. She twisted the knob, hoping for the best, and opened the door.

  Caitlin poked her head in, listening for any sounds. The house was still and quiet, smelling of new paint. She slid into the house as silently as she could manage.

  No alarms—nothing audible, anyway. She darted through the front room to the door, flipping the lock with one hand and pulling it open with the other.

  “Took you long enough,” Agathon whispered as he brushed past her. A wave of eldritch energy rolled off him as he summoned his arcane sword. The prismatic blade cast swirling shards of light on the walls and ceiling.

  “I haven’t heard anyone and—”

  His eyes narrowed and his muscles twitched as he lowered himself to a fighting stance. Agathon’s dueling garb might make her roll her eyes, but in moments like this, she was reminded how dangerous he could truly be.

  “The house is new. Not remodeled, but brand new. No spirits live here. Not to mention, I didn’t feel any on street either.”

  Agathon shrugged, “Is that unusual?”

  She shook her head, “Yes. A country as old as Puerto Rico? There should be spirits everywhere. Every neighborhood older than twenty years should have a guardian spirit. Houses with families usually develop them within a few years. This house is brand new, so no spirit, but the neighborhood… something isn’t right here.”

  “Understood, I’ll be careful.”

  Shaking the tension out of his free arm, Agathon snapped his shield to life. The v-shaped magical barrier protected more than just the area it covered. It was a construct, but also a representation of his will. It wasn’t self-aware, but it could act on an instinctual level beyond what Agathon could actively manage.

  She followed close behind him as he set out exploring the house. The ground floor was the typical kitchen, living room, bathroom affair with all the bedrooms upstairs. When they cleared the downstairs, he started up to the second level.

  Her hands squeezed into fists as they made their way through the top floor. Something felt so wrong about all of this. A new house, no signs of her sister, or anything to suggest a prisoner was being held here. At the top of the stairs, she caught wind of two scents. A man’s cologne—a popular brand that the younger human men tended to slather on.

  Beneath that, she smelled the bubble gum scented shampoo her sister favored. She tapped Agathon on the shoulder, waited for him to glance her way, and pointed at the far door where she felt the smell came from strongest.

  She had to watch his feet and move when he moved. His every step was as silent as a wind kissing a dandelion.

  When they paused in front of the door, he motioned with his shoulder for her to open it. Dropping down to one knee, she leaned forward and put her hand on the knob.

  He signaled his readiness, and she turned the knob slowly. So slowly.

  When it clicked open, Agathon darted forward, slamming it open in a sudden, violent burst of movement, his blade resting atop his shield.

  Caitlin darted in after him, and then came up short as Agathon stopped suddenly.

  “Caitlin, what’s going on here?”

  Caitlin looked around, wondering the same thing.

  A fancy bed with a four post decorative wooden frame was on one side. An expensive gold leaf vanity sat opposite, every conceivable surface covered in makeup, nail polish, and other beauty supplies.

  The room was obviously the master, with a large door leading to a bathroom.

  This was so strange. Caitlin assumed they’d have her tied up and gagged, not elegantly housed and provided for.

  Agathon disappeared into the bathroom while she searched the room.

  The makeup on the vanity wasn’t the garden variety. As the spokesperson for several brands, she knew the difference. The cheapest item in her collection was over a hundred dollars, and she recognized the expensive makeup bag as her sister’s.

&nb
sp; “Caitlin,” Agathon called her from the bathroom.

  Leaving the vanity behind, she poked her head into the bathroom. The first thing she noticed was what a mess everything was. Towels on the floor, hair styling supplies everywhere.

  “What the hell?” she said out loud before she could stop herself.

  Agathon reached down with the tip of his blade and lifted up a package of condoms.

  “Something tells me she isn’t here under duress…”

  Caitlin’s heart pounded as she tried to process what she was seeing, what Agathon was saying.

  Daphne had been part of this. She’d done it voluntarily. How could—even Daphne, how could she do this? To her own sister?

  And she’d… she’d slept with a man not her bethroved?

  She’d asked herself that question so, so many times over the years that she couldn’t count them all. And every single time, it devastated her just as much. Why didn’t she ever learn?

  They’d tried to kill her. Kill Wash.

  Caitlin clenched her fists and slammed one against the wall, letting out a scream of rage and grief.

  Tradition wouldn’t allow her to kill her sister but, by Poseidon, she wanted to.

  Wash wandered through the crowded shopping center, pausing here and there to examine the different shops. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d visited a shopping center. They were kind of quaint, now that people could actually handle goods and try on clothing via their link connections. They’d become more like social gathering places, surrounded by shops that offered a genuine experience that some people craved.

  And restaurants. Osiris hadn’t found a way to replace food via a link, but Wash was sure he eventually would.

  Currently, he was sucking down something called a Limber that tasted far too good to be healthy.

  His new link showed him the time at the bottom of his vision, superimposed over the real world.

  Caitlin had left a little over an hour ago. He was tempted to message her but decided against it. He didn’t want to seem like he was checking up on her. Or like he was being as needy as he felt.