Year of the Boar- Tica

by Heather Heffner

  The snow goddess smiled benignly. “I sensed something sick and rotting had entered Eve. I hastened over with all speed and attacked without thinking. I apologize.”

  I wilted beneath that cold gaze, heart sinking. She couldn’t mean what I thought she did.

  “Tica was attacked by one of the Plague Lords,” Jinho said. “If they are interested in her, then that is all the more reason for her to be here, where she can be protected.”

  “Are they interested?” Poli’ahu countered. “Or did they just see a sick girl who made an easy target?”

  “Not so easy.” I stepped out from the safety of Jinho’s wings and faced the snow goddess. “Being ‘sick’ isn’t new to me. I’ve lived through bone cancer and its treatment before, and I’ll live through this, too.”

  The ice maiden gave me a gaunt smile. “Is that so, little ripple? You may have the endurance of a glacier, but the Plague Lords are not your only enemies. From what I’ve seen, you’re making it easy for him.”

  It was fairly obvious who she was talking about. I glanced hesitantly at Jinho. “What does she mean?”

  “She speaks of what I am,” Jinho said softly. “There is a reason I can hold Nanaue without being devoured by him. Nanaue and I share the same nature, Tica. Both of us…blood drinkers.”

  I suddenly felt very small indeed, trapped on an iceberg between an unfriendly snow goddess and a—vampyre.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Yes, Jinho,” Poli’ahu said, reclining back on a frozen wave as if it were a throne. “Do tell. This should be very enlightening.”

  Jinho gave her a long glare before turning back to me, his raggedy black wings drooping. “To part from Nanaue, I must feed him blood that will sicken him. You, Tica, have experienced a Plague Lord’s bite and survived. Your blood is now infected with their powerful poison. You can help me.”

  I bit my lip. “You mean to kill Nanaue, don’t you?”

  “The gods do not ‘die’ like mortals, but they can be dispelled for a time,” Poli’ahu spoke in her hoarse whisper. “Shark god Kamohaoli’i warned Nanaue’s human mother of what would happen if he tasted flesh. The mortals did not heed his words, and so Nanaue began to hunt his own people. You will not like what happens if he breaks free from Jinho in this day and time.”

  I knew the stories. Nanaue possessed the hunting instincts of a shark and the cunning of a human. No matter how hard he tried to hold back his hunger, it would always eventually win. He’d eaten through family and friends from Hawai’i to Maui before the people of Moloka’i trapped and killed him. I didn’t want to know what the contemporary version of Nanaue would be.

  I reached out and touched Jinho’s lowered head. “You just need a little blood?”

  Jinho’s gray-blue eyes searched mine. “A little over an extended period of time. And none of it can ever touch Nanaue’s mouth on my back, or else he will wake. I will lack the strength to hold him back any longer.”

  “But if my blood is poison, then won’t it kill you, too?” I asked tentatively.

  “Yes,” Jinho said quietly. “Tica, I am a blood drinker like Nanaue. However, I have lived far longer and killed with much worse intent. Because of the circumstances of my turning…I cannot be killed like other lesser vampyres can. I have been searching a long time for a way to die before I met you.”

  “Think of it as killing two birds with one stone,” Poli’ahu said brightly.

  We both glared at her. “Why are you still here?” Jinho demanded.

  The snow goddess sighed. “You, Jinho, are not the only blood drinker on this island. Your brother is here.”

  CEO Crispin Summers. I remembered Secretary Reynolds handing him the gallon-sized “specialty” drink that he’d downed within seconds. I shut my eyes tight and tried not to think of what—or who that was.

  “That is because I am trespassing in his dominion,” Jinho said grimly. “He wants to keep an eye on me. Do not worry, Poli’ahu. Crispin will depart back to the mainland as soon as I am gone. My younger brother hates the sun and hates the islands more. The terrain is not exactly…accessible.”

  “I am well aware of your brother’s desire to pave over all of O’ahu until it is a giant luxury resort shielded from the sun,” Poli’ahu said. “However, I believe he is less concerned about your plans here and more worried about you discovering his.”

  She opened her hand, upon which a small blue-scaled mo’o sat frozen in mid-snarl. She gently blew on it, and the ice melted. The mo’o came to life in a fit of hisses. I gasped. Its eyes were a lidless eerie green.

  The mo’o laughed at me, its shadow growing taller on the water. Its blue tail, heavy with spiky armor, whipped across the sea and overturned our iceberg.

  We plunged into the sea, and a torrent of salty ice crystals flooded my nostrils. Jinho grabbed my stump, and we both paddled up toward the moon. Suddenly, something began to drag us back. We whirled around to see the water spiral into a cyclone, sucking us down toward a cavernous throat. The mo’o, which had at first fit into the palm of Poli’ahu’s hand, had now grown into a monstrous horned whale.

  My chest burned from holding my breath, and my strokes grew weaker. Jinho pulled me to his chest, and his wings enfolded me in a defensive cocoon. But it was too late. We were pulled, kicking and squirming, toward the mo’o’s awful throat—

  A harpoon of ice struck the whale mo’o, and it froze underwater. Our bodies struck a shield of ice that sprang up between us and the mo’o’s maw. We frantically clawed our way up the shield’s glassy fissures until we broke the surface. I collapsed against Jinho’s shoulder, gasping for breath. That had been too close. A second later, and I would have been sitting in a mo’o’s stomach. Rafael and my mom would have walked into my room to find me unmoving and unresponsive: a comatose body missing its soul. After everything we’d been through the past two years, how could I do that to them? I turned away and blinked back tears.

  Poli’ahu draped two blankets made of feathery snowflakes over our shoulders. She meant well, but they did little to warm us up.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I underestimated the dark mo’o’s strength. The others haven’t been as strong.”

  “The others?” Jinho’s fingers dug into my shoulders. He’d recovered far more quickly than I, but his skin was just as cold as the blanket. I shrugged off both of them, teeth chattering.

  “They’ve been popping up everywhere on the islands,” Poli’ahu murmured. “Dark mo’o, who do not recognize us or the land. Something is sickening them. We send them back to Kuaihelani, the land of the gods, and it helps restore their connection to the ‘aina. But now this curse is spreading too far and too fast. The mo’o are being turned into slaves for a dark agenda.”

  Jinho’s fists clenched. “What the hell is Crispin doing?”

  “And who is he doing it with?” I piped up. “Jinho, the mo’o’s eyes—they looked like the Plague Lords’.”

  Poli’ahu looked at me, and for once, some of her chill thawed. “You do catch on fast, little ripple. I hope you live as long as you think you will. Jinho will need your help to figure out what madness his brother has planned. However, both of you must exercise the utmost caution. Remember: the mo’o are shape-shifters.” She nodded toward the dark whale frozen beneath our feet. “Not all of them will be so easily identified.”

  Did that mean the snow goddess wouldn’t try to freeze me to death anymore? I beamed up at Jinho, but he was busy with another one of those long, drawn-out stares with Poli’ahu that suggested he was picturing feeding her to the whale mo’o. Poli’ahu smiled cruelly, twiddled the moonflower behind her ear, and then vanished in a swirl of snowflakes.

  “Wow,” I said, as I was left shivering on an iceberg with a winged vampyre who wanted my blood. “Great first date.”

  Chapter 9: Night of the Living Dead

  ~Tica~

  The sun was white-hot, its rays slanting through the waves like leaping rainbow light. Kaiser Mansion
loomed behind me, faded and crumbling into the ocean. My eight-year-old self ran across the pier, bare feet thumping against the concrete.

  “Mom! Mom!”

  Ana Dominguez looked up from her book and lifted her shades. “What’s wrong, Tica? Did you run out of bread to feed the fish?”

  I cannonballed into her and held her tightly around the waist. “Guess what, Mom?” I said, beaming up at her from beneath my thick brown hair. “There’s a man beneath the waves!”

  Her hand paused in the midst of stroking my head. “Oh? There’s a scuba diver?”

  “No.” I shook my head, giggling. “He’s a magic man. He can turn into a fish!”

  My mom snapped her book shut and tucked it under her arm. She thrust the towel into my arms and collapsed the umbrella. “Come, Tica.”

  “But Mom! The bread!” I protested, pulling back toward the pier where a half-open bag of sweet potato bread lay.

  A gecko’s guttural cry cut through the trees. My mother’s head jerked up, spooked. Before I knew it, we were dashing across the sand, Kaiser Mansion disappearing rapidly behind.

  “Leave it!”

  ***

  The flash of a camera brought me back. The photographer smiled and then motioned for Aolani and me to move closer together. “That’s it, girls! Shower us with that aloha spirit, now!”

  We obliged, doing our part to look like happy and carefree staff members eager to welcome guests to the latest wing off of Makani Pavilion: Kūkalahale Way.

  Aolani was still bursting with glee. “They chose my name,” she whispered for the fourth time. “CEO Summers listened to me.”

  Indeed, why had a multi-billionaire CEO who was allergic to the sun lavished so much time and attention on two lowly interns? I glanced up toward the beautiful marble panorama of Polynesian warriors flying across the sea on the back of the wind. Few guests looked at it. Most eyes were fixated on Crispin Summers, who had transformed from a comatose lump during the day to a large, virile businessman bursting with ringing laughter by night. He sipped on a strange “Doll’s Eyes Martini” and had the tendency to wet his fingers and slick back his hair whenever Eva Lilova, a rich and attractive private donor, laughed at one of his jokes.

  However, Crispin still made time to break away from the conversation and let his eyes drift around the room until they found me. I shivered, wondering how oblivious the blood-drinking CEO was to his brother’s intentions after all. I suddenly dearly wished for Jinho’s surly but strong presence. Unfortunately it couldn’t be done; then Crispin would be fully aware that we were on to him. That left the task of snooping up to…me.

  Fortunately, no Dark Spirits had been invited to the new wing opening. Everything smelled fresh and flowery, with enormous golden-hued Bird of Paradise flowers shooting over our heads like fireworks. I made another attempt to approach Crispin and was bumped to the side by a flood of journalists jostling for a view of the aromatic Wind Chamber, or the upscale “Garden in the Cliffs” Lounge.

  “If this is the forerunner, then I have no doubts that your visionary underwater hotel will be a huge success, Mr. Summers,” one said.

  Crispin shrugged modestly. “What can I say? But no environmental protesters here? Marketing just isn’t doing their job these days.” The journalists showered him with gales of laughter.

  Frustrated, I fell back to Aolani and suffered through another picture at the request of our avid photographer. How was I ever going to discover what Crispin was up to on O’ahu? And did I really want to find out? The longer my investigation took, the more time I had to come to terms with Jinho the vampyre’s…other request.

  Pain bit into my shoulder, and I quietly detached myself from Aolani’s side so they couldn’t see that my eyes had begun to water. I didn’t have that much time.

  “Excellent!” Our photographer impatiently tugged on our arms. “Now, to the Wind Chamber! We’ll take a couple overhead shots of you two spinning around the chamber enjoying the exotic smells of the isles—perhaps we should release some plumeria petals to blow around you like a flower storm! Yes, I like it!”

  Aolani pulled back. “Well, I don’t. Do you realize how long it took me to do my hair? And you want me to dance around a Wind Chamber?”

  The photographer put his hands on his hips. “Excuse me, but I believe I am addressing a pair of high school interns, not Hawaiian royalty.”

  “Being interns doesn’t mean we stop becoming people,” Aolani snapped.

  “Fine.” The photographer took a step closer. “Go to the Wind Chamber—please.”

  A hand shot out to pull Aolani back.

  “Sorry, am I interrupting?” The newcomer smiled at the photographer. I’d seen him around the resort before. He was tall and had tousled silver-streaked blond hair that made it seem metallic—a sharp contrast to his jet-black Versace suit and gleaming topaz eyes. A platinum Cartier watch rested on the wrist draping Aolani’s, who didn’t look like she minded the interruption at all.

  “I was just finishing up—” the photographer began, but the man raised a hand to silence him.

  “You’ve taken enough pictures,” he said. “CEO Summers would prefer his interns mingle with the guests and enjoy themselves. They’ll do their job providing good company, while you…why, I suppose you’ve completed your work for tonight. You may leave.”

  It happened so fast I almost didn’t see it, but a second later, the metallic-haired man was holding the camera, and the photographer was grasping thin air. Disappointed, the smaller man slumped away.

  Aolani and I clapped in approval. Our mysterious rescuer grinned and extended a hand. “Nikolaos Lilov.”

  “Oh!” Aolani glanced furtively back at Crispin Summers and his lovely guest donor. “You’re not related to Eva Lilova, are you, sir?”

  He laughed. “Call me Nik. Yes, I’m her not quite-so-wealthy brother. That is probably why CEO Summers hasn’t paid me the slightest attention all night, yes?”

  “You definitely don’t have enough of something,” I said wryly, and he chuckled, patting my back.

  “You’re a clever pair of girls. On behalf of Kalani Resorts I apologize; that photographer monopolized so much of your time. Would you like me to introduce you around the room?”

  Aolani’s smile couldn’t have been wider as she pulled out her stack of business cards. Nik flashed her a warm glance and then strode over to a circle of patrons.

  “Careful,” I muttered in her ear. “You’re going to make Lono jealous.”

  Aolani snorted, cheeks flushed. “Who? Oh, the guy who’s shone about as much ambition as a sea slug? He just screws around all day with those construction guys he works with. Besides, I have you to stop me from doing anything too naughty, Saint Tica.”

  “I, um, have to use the restroom,” I lied. “But I will be back! I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

  “Yes, mom.” Aolani flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Although your rules obviously don’t apply to you and Jinho, do they? Your brother told me about your little sleepover.”

  What Jinho and I were doing definitely wasn’t safe, but it wasn’t the kind of thing “Abstinence Only!” counselors lectured about. “He left at midnight!” I protested as she sashayed over to a gesturing Nik and his circle.

  Aolani tsked over her shoulder. “Ouch. But I guess what else could be expected from Saint Tica?”

  I stormed off in the opposite direction, losing myself in the dark hallways of the Punahele. No one infuriated me like Aolani, not even my brother or dismissive Lono. She was damn lucky Ryoko was our intermediary friend or else I would have killed her a long time ago. So what if I wasn’t as “experienced” as Miss Hawaiian Royalty? I had more important things to worry about like saving the world, damnit.

  Speaking off… Crispin’s mausoleum loomed before me at the end of the walkway, dark and silent. I glanced back toward the happy lights at Makani Pavilion and then hardened my resolve. Why should I be afraid? After all, I was already dying.

&nb
sp; The thought stopped me in my tracks. The only thing I was aware of was my dully throbbing shoulder. It was the first time I had faced what I knew the pain’s return meant. I closed my eyes and whispered a small prayer to the starlit sky above. Then I slipped a black glove out of my purse and stretched it out with my teeth so I could pull it on.

  Movement slithered to my right, and I whirled around, eyes narrowed. There was nothing except for a rustling black rose bush. I turned back to the mausoleum door and slowly withdrew a black feather from my bag. It was Jinho’s: scraggly and black, with hints of blue blossoming along the shaft.

  He’d warned me the tips would be sharp, so I cradled them gingerly as I inserted the end into the keyhole. Who would have ever thought vampyres had wings and their feathers could act like keys? Of course, not all vampyres did. I’d gathered from Jinho’s vague comments that only the oldest and most powerful of his kind had wings. Their feathers created a unique key signature that couldn’t be picked by any mortal pickpocket…only each other.

  Something clicked inside. My heart skipped a beat as the old door slowly creaked open. The tomb office was exactly like I remembered it: cool, dank, and lit by multiple red candles. CEO Summers obviously wasn’t concerned with fire hazards. I took a step inside and accidentally kicked over a silver bowl of fruit. A fat brown gecko darted out from under it and scampered up and over my toes to freedom. I realized similar plates of food sat between each of the candles. This reminded me of the offerings Ryoko and her family would leave out for their departed ancestors. My gaze returned to the far wall-side bed, where the monster would return to slumber. Who was the vampyre trying to feed?

  A low growl rose up behind me. Whirling around, I realized twin eerie green eyes were locked on me from amongst the knot of thorns. My heart thudded into my ribcage and broke. It was him. The Plague Lord.

  The black rose bushes rustled louder, and I realized that the funeral flowers were indeed moving. Their poisonous branches slipped under and over one another, moving aside—for him.