Immersion (Apalala Clan Book 1)

by Dzintra Sullivan

  “Back to the issue at hand, Payton,” she said to herself and laughed at her own unintentional pun. “Maybe Attor is on to something. It certainly isn’t making any sense from a financial aspect.” Payton’s normal clientele had always been about the bottom line. Not many big companies did things that they were likely to lose money on, and exploring the basin when it had already been explored resulting in little to no oil, would take a large financial hit.

  “So, Mr. Embah, if you’re not looking for oil… what is it you’re looking for?” Payton asked the silence of the night with no response, but she made a promise—tomorrow she would find out exactly what was going on.

  “Who slogged you, V?” Ladon looked up from the sofa when his two oldest brothers walked in, they had been out on a surface mission and from the looks of Volos’ nose there was a scuffle.

  “No one,” Volos replied coldly as he walked by to the refrigerator they had in the small kitchen. Reaching in, he grabbed a beer, twisted the seal and guzzled half of it on one gulp. Volos wasn’t a big drinker, but today he’d earned an ice cold one or two.

  “I call bullshit, V,” Ladon said, sitting upright, his interest now piqued. “Your nose is red, looks like you copped a fist, but there isn’t any other obvious scuffle marks, which is intriguing. Add in that you just downed half a beer in a single gulp and look like you’re wanting more… there’s most definitely something going on.”

  “What’s going on?” Jo walked into the room from the direction of his own cave.

  “Fuck off, Jo,” Volos stated firmly, last thing he needed was his dick whistle of a brother to know about his Payton problem.

  Jo looked at him ready to make a snarling comment back, but paused, “Hey, who hit you?”

  “That’s what I said.” Ladon laughed. “I didn’t think I was seeing things.”

  “Nope, that’s not imaginary, someone definitely punched him. The question is of course, who?” Jo smirked.

  “Drop it dick whistle,” Volos thundered loudly.

  “I do believe he doth protest too much,” Jo declared to Ladon. “Who are your bets on?” Jo looked his brother up and down, his eyes caught by Attor shaking his head. A silent plea to get him to discontinue the current line of question. Jo laughed, he never was good with directions. “Can’t be an equal fight, there’s not a single mark on him.”

  Ladon nodded as they dissected his appearance “The only mark on him is the very slight puffy red nose of what I would guess was a single punch, by something with a small fist.”

  “Or someone…” Jo said, and instantly laughed at the growl that rumbled from deep within Volos’ chest.

  “Jo…” Attor cautioned him. “I’d stop if I were you.”

  “Lucky you’re not then, huh?” Jo became giddy with the reaction from V and Attor, whatever went down was epic and he felt a deep-seated need to know, for the protection of his brother of course. “There is only one person that springs to mind that might, just might, get away with hitting Volos and living to tell the tale.”

  “Yeah? Who?” Ladon asked.

  Attor could hear the growl from Volos, and he was growling louder by the second. An energy surge of epic proportions was coursing through the room with the anticipated beat down if Jo actually named her.

  Jo looked at his brother, for a second he contemplated not saying it out loud. However, if you’d ever seen an argument between the angel and devil on someone’s shoulder, when it came to Jo, the devil shot the angel and loaded the dice to always roll in his favor.

  “If I were to place a bet… I would put a fifty on the delightful and spirited Payton.”

  The last syllable hadn’t even left Jo’s lips for a second when Volos launched, and within a beat of a Hummingbird’s wing he had Jo by the throat, held up against the wall, his feet dangling inches from the floor.

  “Did I hit a nerve, pretty boy?” Jo struggled to talk past the constricting grip Volos had on his throat. “So, what, the pretty girl thumped you? You most likely deserved it. Don’t be such a sensitive bastard, it’s not like she’s scented you.” Jo’s voice was low and gravelly as he pulled at Volos’ hands, the need for air growing fierce.

  “Fuck,” Volos screamed and threw Jo across the room, his body slid the last few feet before a loud thud confirmed he’d hit the wall on the opposite side of the room. Jo shook the daze from his head for a split second after he’d realized what had just happened.

  “She scented you?” Jo whispered.

  Volos’ face flicked around with an untapped rage that even made Jo flinch. He held up his hands in a surrender. Jo couldn’t remember the last dragon that had been scented, certainly not a warrior for many moons. Yet, now his oldest brother, a proud and powerful dragon, had been scented by a small human female, a species that he particularly loathed.

  Jo, Ladon, and Attor watched Volos disappear into his quarters in complete silence, it wasn’t until after they heard his door click shut did Attor say, “Not a fucking word, boys.”

  Ladon and Jo were both grinning but they nodded.

  “Not a word,” they said in unison.

  True to her word Payton smiled brightly as the elevator door opened and she was greeted by a woman who was more plastic than Barbie herself. The voice, unfortunately, matched the rest of her and caused Payton instant irritation from the second she’d heard, “Hey luv, can I help ya?”

  Payton ignored the fact that this woman actually had chewing gum in her mouth while she spoke, and a top so low she got a nipple flash as she spun on her chair. “Mr. Paxern, please.”

  “Oh hun, I’m not sure if he’s in…” She trilled her voice and battered her eyelashes, leaning forward on the desk she whispered, “He’s a super busy man and all.” The condescending tone, tipped Payton from mildly disgusted over into batshit crazy within a few beats of her heart.

  Payton leaned forward on the woman’s desk, matching her nose to nose. “Hun..” her tone should have sent warning bells off in any female within a five-mile radius, “… get the gum out of your mouth, put your tits away, and do some actual work. I’m here to see Mr. Paxern. So I suggest you put the phone to your ear, page him, and let him know I don’t like being kept waiting.” Payton’s smile was laced with venom. “On a side note, stop sucking your boss’s cock, and start fucking working. It’s called respecting yourself, look it up!”

  The blonde’s eyes couldn’t have gotten any wider as she lifted the phone to her ear, pressed the extension line and requested Mr. Paxern’s attention to the matter.

  Payton smiled with a crazy scrunch of her eyes. “Now, wasn’t that easy.” Her head turned to see a man walk through the office doors. “And so prompt, too.” She winked at the receptionist who was busy readjusting her shirt to cover herself a little better. Payton turned and walked confidently with her hand extended toward the man who’d just entered. “Mr. Paxern?”

  Mr. Paxern took her hand and shook it firmly. “Yes, how can I help you, Ms…?”

  “Hunter,” she replied. “Payton Hunter. I’d like to talk to you about the validity of some applications that have been made recently.” Payton dropped his hand and stood tall, as tall as her small stature would allow her to. Mr. Paxern was just under the six-foot mark, he had the most glorious golden colored skin and dark eyes that reminded Payton of melted dark chocolate. He was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and a white button-up shirt, with his multiple identity cards hung from a lanyard around his neck.

  “Certainly. Payton, follow me…” He glanced at his receptionist. “Hold my calls, Bambee.”

  Bambee? Payton inwardly roared with laughter as Bambee smiled, her eyes didn’t hide her sexual hunger toward her boss.

  She’s a lost cause, Payton thought as she turned and followed Mr. Paxern.

  He opened his office door and waited for Payton to enter first, closing the door behind them as he went behind his small plain beige colored desk which was piled high with stacks of paper. Across the desk was spread a myriad of pens, pencils, s
tick-it notes and other office paraphernalia.

  “May I call you Payton?” Payton nodded as she sat in the basic gray fold-out chair opposite his desk. “Good.” He nodded in agreement. “Call me James. Now…” pulling his chair in, James looked directly into Payton’s eyes and asked, “… what it is that concerns you?”

  Payton and James had a conversation that spanned well over the next two hours, even Bambee had to be called to fetch drinks. Payton smiled at the fact that Bambee at least had earned her wage legitimately today. Blueprints were sought and perused. They both went into the catalogue office and gathered previous applications, both successful and declined from C.O.D.E, as well as specific to the basin by any other companies. They both had given up on the small desk and pushed it to the side, now sitting on the floor with papers covering nearly every square inch.

  Payton sat still and looked at James. “It’s not valid, is it?”

  James shrugged. “Valid is dependent on the angle in which you look.”

  “Financial,” Payton added with an annoyed tone.

  “Financially, this kind of expense could cripple a smaller company like C.O.D.E. yes. However, I’m not in charge of their bottom line. My only concern is the impact on the environment, and at this point it’s an application for a clean sweep, nothing more.” He sat back against the wall and crossed his legs over each other.

  “You agree with what they’re going to do?” she asked.

  “I’m not paid to have an opinion, Payton. Just like you, I’m paid to do my job.” His tone changed. “As long as the application meets the environmental checkpoints from both the Ministry and the Council, I have to tick it and lodge it.”

  “And if it doesn’t meet the checkpoints?” she asked, skating a very fine line between inquisitive and accusatory.

  “Then it’s declined,” James stated firmly.

  “Every time?” Payton knew she pushed the limit with that one single question.

  James stood up and looked at his watch. “I think our time is up, Ms. Hunter.” He walked over to the door and opened it, waiting. “Don’t worry about picking up the papers, I’ll have Bambee come and help me. It’s been a pleasure, Ms. Hunter.” He extended his hand to end the meeting.

  Payton spun at the sudden change in his body language, his demeanor, the return to her formal title and the gentle shove out the door, made Payton think she’d hit a very tender nerve with James.

  “Another time perhaps, James?” Payton purposely used his name to see how tender the nerve actually was when she paused at the office door.

  “Paxern… Mr. Paxern.” He looked nervously down the corridor as if someone might overhear him. “My schedule is very busy, but feel free to leave a note with Bambee. She’ll make sure I get the message.” James nodded and shut the office door in her face.

  Payton stood for a few seconds, processing how she’d gone from ally to enemy within the time it took a shark to fart. Payton tucked her paperwork into her briefcase and walked back out to the waiting room. Bambee put down the receiver having obviously just received a call from James. Her body language was aggressive and repulsed by the mere presence of Payton in the room. Payton looked at the ditzy blonde receptionist, laughing as she walked over to the elevator, pushed the button and waited for the ding of its arrival. Stepping in, she spun and looked at Bambee, who was sending ready-made obituary notices with her eyes.

  Payton raised her hand and punched the air with a peace sign.

  “Suck on! bitches.” The door shut on the silence following her words, lowering her hand, she took a deep breath. “I need to talk to Attor,” she said to herself, flinching because that would likely incur seeing the oaf.

  The thought of seeing Volos exhilarated and repulsed her equally at this point.

  I need to get nose plugs or maybe some of that stuff they rub under coroner’s noses, to prevent the scent getting past, Payton thought with a nod as she headed for the car.

  “The boss is looking for you,” Kylee whispered as Payton arrived at the office. She was late but seeing as she was technically at a business meeting, the boss should understand.

  “Hmm…” Payton absently said as she sat on her chair, swung round to the computer screen and started tapping quickly. She wanted to jot her mind’s notes before she forgot what she had seen. Sometimes recording the body language, emotions, feelings you get from a meeting might not make complete sense at the time, but when you look back sometimes it turned as clear as day.

  Her phone buzzer went off, Payton reached out and slipped the phone between her shoulder and ear so her fingers could keep typing. “Payton Hunter, how can I help you?” she said on auto pilot.

  “In my office, now,” the voice demanded.

  Payton stopped typing, taking the receiver in her hand she swung her chair around and leaned back. “Pardon me? You must have misunderstood me, this is Payton Hunter you’re speaking to, not the local dog pound.” Payton knew it was Mr. Embah, but she had just dealt with one prick, one cock sucking bitch, and she wasn’t about to go three for three in a single day. If she didn’t stand up for herself, who would?

  Silence ensued for a few seconds while Payton waited her boss out, she smiled as he cleared his throat and spoke again, this time his tone was completely different. “Payton, could I please speak with you?”

  “Absolutely, Mr. Embah, I’ll be right up.” Payton put the receiver down and breathed in and out to calm her nerves.

  “Will you marry me?” Kylee asked.

  Payton looked up to see Kylee’s grin and laughed.

  “I’m serious. When you go all bad-ass on someone, it’s so fucking hot!” Kylee smirked.

  “I think your boyfriend might have a problem with you marrying me.” Payton laughed and grabbed her briefcase.

  “It’s cool, we can have a meringue la’twat,” Kylee grinned broadly as she leaned back and wiggled her eyebrows deviously.

  “It’s ménage à trois and I love you, but my door only swings one way.” Payton laughed.

  Kylee grabbed her chest and screwed her face up in an imaginary pain “Oh, the pain! It hurts so bad!”

  “Get a plaster and move on, woman.” Payton snorted. “If I’m not back in thirty minutes assume I’ve killed someone and grab the shovel, okay?”

  “Got your back, biatch.” Kylee winked as she watched Payton disappear up the stairs.

  Payton knocked on the door.

  “Come in…”

  Payton pushed on the door and walked in. Mr. Embah was sitting behind his desk, elbows were propped up and his fingers laced under his chin. Either side of him were his normal ape-like security men, silent and intimidating was the look they were going for.

  “Ms. Hunter… Payton, if I may?” Mr. Embah asked. Payton nodded and even though his tone was so sweet it could give you cavities, her warning bells were sounding like a tornado warning. “It’s been brought to my attention you had a meeting with a…” he looked down at some notes that were written on some paper, “… Mr. Paxern?”

  “Really? From who?” Payton asked.

  Whoop. Whoop. Whoop, the siren in her head wailed.

  “Did you?” He rephrased his question, the tone slipping into a shade darker.

  “As part of my job, which you have employed me for, I am required to assess all aspects of the applications filed. Who I do or do not have meetings with, really isn’t something I’m required to disclose Mr. Embah,” Payton replied calmly.

  “You will not meet with him again,” he stated the words leaving his mouth fast, the ice left hanging in the air from the coldness of his tone made her shiver.

  “Ah… you can’t…” Payton started to say when she stopped suddenly at the loud bang.

  Mr. Embah had slammed his fists onto his desk and stood up, leaning over the desk, the red flecks in his eyes flared as he stared through to her very soul. “You will not meet with him again. He has his job, you have yours. You are able to do your job aren’t you, Payton?”

  Payto
n stood, she was not sitting down while this man tried to tower over her. “I can do my job perfectly well, Mr. Embah, like knowing when you’re trying to sell me tomatoes and yet all I can see in front of me are bananas…” Payton took a breath. “I am a lawyer, Mr. Embah, it’s my job to be able to detect a lying sack of shit.” She picked up her briefcase and looked him in the eye. “And this application has an ‘odor de’poop’ sprayed all over it.” Payton held her head up tall and strutted out the office letting the door slam shut behind her.

  Mr. Embah picked up the phone and dialed a number.

  “We have a problem,” he said. “A lawyer shaped problem.

  “Then erase it,” the dark acidic voice answered.

  The phone went dead.

  Payton had walked out the boss’ office and past her desk, she picked up her handbag, cell phone, and keys. Looking at Kylee’s wide eyes she said, “I’m out of here before you really do need that shovel. I’ll ring you later.” Without waiting for an answer she turned and left.

  She walked straight to her favorite coffee bar, ordered a double shot cappuccino to go and went for a walk along the beach. The sun was heading down for the day, a quick look at her watch confirmed it was three p.m., but the closer it got to winter, the sun made its descent earlier and earlier. She took a seat on the beach and sipped her drink, the sounds of the small waves lapping on the sand were rhythmic enough to calm her nerves. She couldn’t believe what had just happened, and right now, Payton wasn’t even sure she still had employment. She placed her cup in the sand and laid back, her arm hooking over her face as she closed her eyes. Payton struggled to make any sense of the last two days’ events.

  Click.