Edith had told amazing stories of the woman, her daughter, who’d given her an amazing gift. Edith’s voice had always gone quieter when she spoke of a man who, in a fit of jealous rage had shot her mother and then himself. However, when that part of the story came around, she spoke of nurses coming in and giving her a small, pink wrapped bundle and Edith’s smile spread widely. His rage-filled bullet may have claimed her daughter’s life that night, but the heartbeat of her innocent granddaughter was strong. The tiny little hand reaching out that bleak night was that of a survivor.
Edith had promised there and then to raise her granddaughter to be strong, independent, and to never forget the gift her mother had given her that horrible night. The police said it appeared that her mother had ducked at the very last second before impact, letting the bullet lodge in her heart, not her stomach, in a last-ditch effort to save her baby from the same ill-fated destiny of her mother.
Payton had felt gratitude toward her mother, however had never mourned her loss. It was a tragedy that had happened moments before her arrival in the world, and while she loved hearing the stories of a crazy red-haired woman whose laugh was infectious, and people were drawn to be around, it was just that, stories. However, the feeling of a cold sharp blade of steel slicing through your heart was something Payton was feeling right now.
Payton had stood quietly at the side of her granny’s grave until there was only silence behind her. She didn’t want to see anyone, speak to anyone, or have any form of pity thrown at her feet. Turning ever so slowly, she saw that the graveyard was now barren of all people, the sun was setting and turning the sky into a myriad of purples and pinks.
Somehow, Payton drove home.
Somehow, Payton opened the door.
Somehow, Payton made it to her bed.
Somehow, Payton had stayed strong.
As the tears became a raging torrent down her cheeks, Payton finally collapsed.
A morning beam of light danced over Payton’s closed eyes, relentlessly licking her reddened skin until she turned over, it was this movement and the scream from her overfull bladder that made her realize she desperately needed to use the bathroom. With a disgruntled groan, she leaped up and made the dash to relieve herself.
Shifting to the kitchen bench and waiting for the sound of water bubbling to signal her coffee was ready, she wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep, nor did she care. Payton concentrated on her breathing. “In and Out,” she whispered to herself. Staring outside through the window above her sink, Payton’s attention snagged on a small gray squirrel that was busying himself in her garden. He was darting back and forth, doing whatever squirrels do this late in the fall, readying himself for the impending cold winter this area of Canada was known for.
The realization suddenly dawned on her, life was going on. The birds were still singing, the wind was still caressing the leaves, everyone seemed to be going about their normal days as if nothing had changed.
Except everything had changed, at least for Payton it had. Her soul had been tapped like a mighty maple tree, and the very essence that made her her, was leaking slowly out—bleeding relentlessly until she feared her own death would be the result. Payton’s eyes darted to the left as she saw her neighbor start to rake the never-ending cascade of fallen leaves from his backyard. Normally, Payton would have enjoyed the view of watching him extend and retract his arms, the muscles across his back rippling with the scooping motion of the rake. However, nothing was ever going to be normal again. The fact her neighbor’s day seemed to be going along like nothing had changed in the world infuriated her.
Grabbing the waiting mug off the bench, she pulled her hand back above her head and threw it with the anger of a thousand scorned gods. The sound that screamed from her lungs could only be described as horrifyingly and pain-filled, followed quickly by the crack of shattering clay against the wall. Payton looked back up, panting with the effort it required to live in this moment, to see the neighbor staring at her, his eyes wide with concern.
Payton shook her head lightly as she reached up and closed the small light blue curtains signaling it was none of his concern. She was going back to bed, today was a right off, and tomorrow didn’t look any better.
Volos paced back across the marble floor of his father’s office for the hundredth time. Grunting with deep-seated frustration, he looked again at the golden face of his watch, a gift from his father, the king, on his twenty-fifth birthday. Volos was the oldest of five brothers and first in line to the throne. When the time came that his father, King Basilisk, decided to step down, he would become King Volos, ruler of the Apalala clan. This always weighed heavily upon his shoulders—the responsibility of an entire clan of water dragons and their assorted partners’ safety and futures, had caused many a sleepless night for the young water dragon prince.
Volos turned his head slowly as his eyes zeroed in on the sound of his brothers talking. Attor and Ladon walked around the corner and into his father’s office, talking loudly and laughing about some small pet video they had seen on YouTube. Volos swore under his breath at his hatred for social media. He never understood why his father allowed that connection to the human world. Humans, in Volos’ opinion, were unintelligent and ignorant creatures, and that was a dangerous combination. His concerns were overlooked by the persuasive argument of his more sociable brothers. They argued of what could be learned from the humans, and to fear something was to give it power. The king agreed and social media was connected, with a strict law of non-disclosure. The king had ruled that any clan dragon or family member of a clan dragon that disclosed their true nature or the location of their home, would be expelled immediately. Safety was of the utmost importance, and when you’re a creature of folklore and your home is a large dome at the bottom of the ocean, secrecy was paramount and what kept you alive.
“Decided to show up?” Volos snapped at his brothers, his sharp eyes inspecting their appearance. They were wearing the warrior uniform that was expected of the brothers. Black leather pants that hid a variety of weaponry strapped to their legs, down to the heavy combat boots of a soldier. The clan warriors wore only a black leather vest with the royal family crest of water dragons on display proudly across the back. The vest they wore had a larger opening for the arms that nearly went down past their rib cage. The reason for this being when they ventured out from the dome their dragon wings had room to explode from their flesh when needed without ripping clothes. This adjustment in clothing allowed the clan warriors to spring into their true form instantly and with minimal effort.
Attor looked over to his older brother. “And a very good afternoon to you brother.” Walking over, he kicked out a stool at the small bar his father had installed in his office and sat down. “I see you have the pole still firmly shoved up your ass?”
Volos shot a look at both Attor and Ladon who were both now laughing loudly at the joke that was aimed at him. “Father called a meeting, prompt attendance is too much I guess?”
“Father isn’t even here yet, V,” Ladon said as he cast his ocean blue eye around the room. Ladon was third born and had a very relaxed attitude to life in general. Underestimating him, however, was a mistake made by many of his opponents. The Jekyll and Hyde approach he took with life was incongruent, yet he made it work. In battle, Ladon hadn’t lost a single conflict, his fighting skills were unmatched. Nevertheless, when he was off duty, getting him to even care enough to brush his hair was difficult.
“That excuses your tardiness?” Volos shot back at the younger dragon.
“Tardiness? According to whom?” Attor questioned. He knew he was provoking the proverbial dragon beast, but sometimes his older brother was a royal pain in the ass.
“Me,” bellowed Volos. “According to me,” he confirmed with a voice that bounced around the room.
“It’s all about you, isn’t it, V?” Josua sauntered in, quickly followed by the youngest of the brothers Wyvern. Josua had little to no time for the rules and regulation
s of royal life. While all his brothers were tall, and had the ocean blue jewel colored eyes of the royal family, somewhere along the way he’d been swimming in the shallow end of the gene pool and had been born with pure white eyes, and to top it off he was the shortest. While he displayed all the ample muscles to match his brothers, he’d gotten his inked. Not just one tattoo, no, Jo was not one for being reserved. Jo had two entire sleeves, from wrist to shoulder, which displayed an array of ocean creatures and the underwater life he loved. Above his heart he’d also added the family crest and had plans for more to be done as soon as he had the time.
Jo looked at Volos, his eldest brother, and saw his eyes inspecting his appearance. He was wearing an official warrior uniform like them all. However, he’d neglected to remove his fleshies, his eyebrow piercing, and the ring he had looped through his nose. In Jo’s mind, he already looked vastly different from his brothers, he might as well embrace it with both arms.
“I don’t have time for your shit today, Jo,” Volos replied dismissively. The brother never had the respect to turn up looking like the prince he was, so why should he be given his respect.
“Or any day as it would appear.” Jo slumped into the chair that was closest to the door. When this was over he wanted out first. Volos shot a look of impatience at him. to which Jo responded with the one finger salute.
The doors swung open wide as their father walked in flanked by two of his own personal bodyguards. He never went anywhere without them. They weren’t related, and in a battle, were a barrier between the king and danger. The two guards stood beside the only window, silently, hands behind their backs.
“Thank you, boys, I appreciate you coming on short notice.” The king pulled out his chair and sat behind the large desk central in the room. He looked up and into the eyes of each of his sons, his pride was always visible when he looked at his boys. He had complete faith that when the time came, and he was no longer wearing the crown, that his clan was indeed in amazingly strong and capable hands.
“Anytime, Father, we’re always at your service,” Ladon said as he flashed a bright white smile just for his brother’s benefit. The look that Volos shot him made Ladon chuckle, it clearly informed him that he’d hit dead center on the nerve board.
“Boys, we have a big problem,” Basilisk announced to the brothers, who all turned their heads sharply, the heartbeats in the room had escalated quickly in anticipation of an impending battle.
“What is it, Father?” Volos leaned his two hands on the desk, his knuckles turned white as he braced himself for orders.
“We have news that a human oil drilling facility called ‘Canadian Oil Drilling and Exploration’ has been approved to explore these waters to discover if there’s a possibility of underwater oil fields that can be tapped.”
“What is it with those humans and oil?” Volos stood up straight, his voice straining with frustration. “Don’t they understand the destruction that it can cause, both on land and in the ocean? Oil spill after oil spill and they still continue, they’re the most arrogant race I’ve ever met.”
Ladon leaned over to Attor and whispered, “And he would know,” to which both brothers struggled not to burst into a fit of laughter.
Volos shot his brothers a cautionary stare. Ladon raised his hands in a surrender pose and grinned. Volos then looked back to his father and asked seriously, “What is the plan, Father?”
King Basilisk looked at his eldest son. “The plan, Volos, would be to go visit this C.O.D.E and stop them.” His commanding voice taking a controlling tone as he looked to them all individually. “Gather closer, boys, we will need all hands-on-deck.”
Reluctantly, even Jo pulled his chair closer as the whispered discussions of a defensive plan started to take shape.
The sound of ‘All The Single Ladies’ ringing made Payton crack her eye open only to squint against the bright flashing screen of her cell. Why she ever let her best friend pick that ring tone for her, she had no idea.
Did she have the strength to reach out and grab the phone?
Did she have the strength to answer the phone knowing it would involve answering all the same questions.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Have you eaten?’
‘You need to get out of the house.’
Blah blah blah.
Payton sighed, she was exhausted before she even said a word. Knowing her best friend, if she didn’t answer within a twenty-minute time frame, would be there knocking at the door. What’s worse, thought Payton, a phone call or a person to person visit? Payton reached over to her cell and clicked accept.
“Hey, Kylee!” Payton struggled to speak against the bone-dry throat she’d woken up to. Tucking the phone into the nook of her neck, she propped herself up on the pillows, reaching for her water bottle and taking a few mouthfuls.
“Hey, yourself!”
Kylee was her best friend. She was honest to the point of being brutal and Payton loved every square inch of her. Kylee was a sister of her heart. They’d met when she was in grade school and had immediately bonded. They shared the same sarcastic humor and crazy outlook on life. Kylee knew what Payton felt before she said anything and vice versa. They were and would always be sisters by choice.
“You're still in bed, aren’t you?”
Payton shuffled the sheets off her legs, trying to sound more awake. “No, no, I’ve been up for hours.” Lying as she leaned over, she looked out the window to see the setting sun signaling the end of another day she had missed. Scrunching her face, she tried to remember what day it even was.
“Fucking liar!” Kylee laughed. “I’m not even asking if you’ve eaten, I don’t want you to have to strain with another lie. Just throw on some jeans, woman, I’m coming by and you’d better be fucking ready.”
“No, Kylee,” Payton protested. “I can’t go out…” Sitting up, she frantically looked around the room as if an excuse would be sitting there waiting for her to use. “I’m… I mean, I just… ah… I am—”
“Shut the fuck up, and throw on your jeans. Nothing flash, just food,” Kylee interrupted. “I’ll honk you in twenty. Don’t make me come in to get you…”
Still holding her phone as the call went dead, Kylee had made her laugh. She had the dirtiest of potty mouths that she’d ever encountered on a woman, but Kylee somehow got away with it. Payton knew Kylee wasn’t joking, if she wasn’t ready it would get physical, ending up with her quite possibly being thrown in Kylee’s car in her pajamas.
Payton got up, stumbled over to the bathroom, and managed to find the toilet in time. She stood in front of the mirror and washed her hands, and when she looked up she was startled by the stranger that stared back at her. Empty flat eyes that were shadowed by dark bags, the gaunt, hollow look that stretched down her cheeks and into her neck aged Payton terribly. Her skin tone had turned ashen with her self-imposed hiatus from the functioning world.
“If Kylee turns up and sees this, she’ll pop her pistons,” Payton said to her reflection. “Time to wake up, Payton,” she said as she reached down to the sink filling and began splashing clean water on her face.
Honk.
Payton flew to the door to see Kylee sitting in her yellow beast of a car. She loved Kylee’s cars, but didn’t know what any of them were by name. There was the yellow beast, the super cool dark blue one and the grunty red one. Either way, Kylee adored her cars and Payton loved riding in them.
“You look like shit,” Kylee said as Payton slid into the seat and buckled up.
“Thanks.” Payton laughed.
“Well, I can see you tried to get all pretty for me…” Kylee grinned with a wiggle of her eyebrows, “… but fuck, Payton, it’s time to get back into the world of the living.” Kylee was speaking from her heart, she knew she was the only one who would be able to talk like this to her and that this was her job as her soul sister. “I loved Edith, deeply, but she would kick your fucking ass if she could see you right now.” Kylee said it again for a
clearer message, “Kick your fucking ass, you know she would.” Pointing her finger at Payton’s black bags. “This is shit, Payton. Enough is enough! Yeah?”
Payton nodded, with tears in her eyes. She knew Kylee was right, she needed to get back into the world. “I know—”
“Good.” Kylee sat back in her seat. “Good! So, let’s start with food… something nice and fucking greasy. Yeah?”
Payton nodded and forced a smile.
As Kylee’s yellow beast roared to life and took off down the street, Payton knew what she needed to do, she just didn’t know if she had the strength to actually do it.
Attor walked out onto the large and spacious balcony adjoining his father’s office. The meeting had been turned into a pissing competition between Ladon and Volos regarding who’d be better suited to handle the problem. Attor found himself with a sudden need for fresh air, he didn’t know why Ladon liked to bait his brother. Volos was the eldest and in being so, ranked higher. Like it or not, that was and would always be, the way of the dragon clan. Volos took his job very seriously because one day he would be king, and then all their lives would depend on him being strong and determined. Ladon always liked to poke the dragon when it came to his brother.
Attor placed his hands on the intricately carved whalebone railings that encased the balcony and leaned forward. Looking down, he took a few moments to breathe deeply and concentrate on the beauty that was under his hands. The clan rarely used whale bone anymore as a building source. The palace had been built many, many, moons ago when whale bones along with copious amounts of gemstones and gold—which adorned the home of the royal family—had been in abundant supply and were harvested from the ocean floor. Attor raised his head to gaze out on the early evening activities of his home. He stood four stories high and from here he had a wonderful view of the entire Oasis. The clan referred to their dome hidden on the Pacific Ocean floor bed as the Oasis, for them it was the only place they could be true to themselves.
Immersion (Apalala Clan Book 1) Page 2