Jeremy scanned the crowds of fans with a frown until he saw her. Her purple skin must have stood out. He recognized her, and his polite smile turned into a grin.
He raised the microphone in his hand to his lips. “Carla, come join me backstage,” he said with a wink.
Some of the girls near the stage looked back at Carla with narrowed eyes.
Luckily, security guards bundled their way through the heaving mass of teenage estrogen and ushered her toward the stage before she was mauled.
The crowd parted to allow her through, and she made her way to the stage.
“Hey, stranger,” she said to Jeremy when she reached him.
“Long time no see.” He hugged her. “Let’s get out of the crowds,” he said, leading her backstage. The rest of his band headed off to the bar while he led her to the dressing-room of the club.
“How have you been? You look great!” She gushed at him, aware that she didn’t sound like herself. It must be the alcohol making me babble.
“The band’s been touring a lot lately, and it’s all going well,” he said as they sat down on the couch in the dressing-room.
She glanced around. It was surprisingly grim and grimy backstage, with torn seats and a faded carpet bearing a variety of stains from spilt drinks and lord knows what else.
She glanced up to find him studying her with a mild frown. “You look… er, sweaty.”
“Well, I always was hot,” she purred, totally missing the lack of compliment in his comment.
He laughed, nervously frowning at her. “Are you okay?” he asked when she moved closer to him on the couch.
“I might be a bit drunk.” She giggled and shifted a bit closer to him. A voice in the back of her head groaned at her girlishness, but he was just so unbelievably sexy right now.
“Oh, so this is you drunk?” He shifted a bit further away from her. “A totally different girl, huh?”
She moved closer, so her face was close to his. “A wilder girl,” she said, and then she kissed him. It wasn’t a small peck on the lips. It was a hard kiss, and to be honest, she had no idea where it came from.
He jumped up, pushing her away.
She landed in a heap on the floor.
“What the hell?” He gaped at her in shock. “No one changes that much!”
He looked sexy when he was angry. Confusion clouded her mind. Something was wrong here. The weird feeling felt familiar. “Oh, crap, Zoremones!”
Jeremy looked at her as if she was nuts. “Huh?”
She forced herself to look at the floor instead of at him. “It’s a thing that happens to me. Like an allergic reaction.” She didn’t know how to explain the devastating effects Rhecknaw Zoremones had on her body. It caused her to lust over any man near her, like an over-sexed love potion. She had encountered them for the first time last year, and they had nearly destroyed her.
“You have an allergic reaction that makes you into a slapper?” He didn’t sound convinced.
She got up and he backed away from her.
“I better go.” She felt so ashamed and painfully aware that she still wanted to rip his clothes off.
“Are you okay?” he asked her, sounding a bit worried. “Can I help?” He reached out a hand toward her, but froze halfway, seeming unsure of what he should do.
“It’s probably best to avoid me right now,” she said. The urge to jump on him appeared again, and it was strong.
“I better go.” She managed to squeak before she ran out of the room and back into the nightclub.
She leaned against a wall with her eyes closed, breathing hard, and trying to control whatever had taken hold of her body and mind.
How have I been near a Zoremone? Is there a purple guy in here? She opened her eyes and scanned the crowds. She saw lots of tantalizing blue-skin, some green-skin, and even a few silvery-skinned Celerons in the crowds, but no one purple.
That last drink I had was purple . She frowned. They can’t be putting Zoremones in the cocktails here! She felt the pull of several men in the vicinity, and she felt herself lusting after them.
“Crap!” She yelped and ran into the ladies’ room. How long is this going to last? Have I been drugged? I can’t believe Jeremy called me a slapper.
She hung her head in shame, deciding to stay in the ladies’ room until she got her body under control. Then she would apologize to Jeremy. Assuming he ever speaks to me again.
She slid down the wall to the floor and hugged her knees. Just gotta wait until this feeling goes away, she told herself over and over again.
“Broken,” Gobbert said.
Carla closed her eyes in defeat.
Maybe I am broken.
Godfrey Hanns waited in a dark room. He nervously tapped his pen on his knee, and then stopped himself. They watch for things like that.
He shifted uncomfortably in the plastic chair, and it squeaked. The palms of his hands were sweaty, making the file he was holding damp. Come on. Hurry up!
He’d been waiting for an hour now, looking at an empty desk, and waiting for the Head of Central Intelligence to arrive.
The door behind the desk opened and a short, fat Derobmi strolled in. He was a stocky man, who was wearing a military uniform. He sat behind the desk and opened the file that Godfrey had handed him.
“A kill order?” He glanced up at Godfrey with disbelief in his green eyes.
“The target has shown herself to be unstable, and she has direct control over one of our operatives.” He pointed to the picture of Parklon Eldemf.
“Hmm.” The General appeared to consider the information.
“Has she been implicated with Rhecknaw or Trell?”
“No information on that yet, sir,” Godfrey replied. “But it’s probable, given who her father is.”
The General frowned at the files.
Oh come on, you old fart. Godfrey was impatient to have this order approved.
“Has she shown any signs of criminal activity against Derobmi?”
“Not yet,” Godfrey said.
“Then what is the basis for this order?” The General flashed an impatient look at Godfrey.
“She attacked an agent, she is from Rhecknaw, and she has become close to one of our agents. So close, in fact, that she is sleeping in his apartment, right now. Given her abilities, she could disrupt our entire operation,” Godfrey said with as much persuasion as he could muster.
“But her past activities show her to be a supporter of Derobmi,” the General countered.
“Intelligence shows that her loyalty to Derobmi has changed, assuming she ever was our friend.”
“Explain yourself, Hanns.”
“She attacked a member of the Derobmi House of Lords in the past, sir, and was deemed a hero for it.”
“Foamy was a traitor!”
“I was referring to his son, sir. Krellin was an innocent victim and is now a member of the House of Lords. Given her past and now her move to Zoola during our campaign, I suspect her actions are strategic and a direct assault on Derobmi.”
“Hmm.” The General considered the report again. “She does turn up where the troubles are. How dangerous is she? You were the agent she attacked, correct?”
“Yes, sir.” Godfrey had been waiting for this moment. “I discovered her stealing documentation at the Scientific Institute in Derobmi and confronted her.” He lied smoothly. “She attacked me with the full force of her powers, but I managed to divert her and escape before she could finish the job. There are photographs of the carnage she caused.” Godfrey pointed to the file.
The General flipped through to the crime scene photographs of a destroyed laboratory. “Good lord! We didn’t know she had this much power.” The General appeared to be shocked by the scene.
Yeah, she didn’t. I burned it when she’d gone, Godfrey thought, but instead he said; “Yes, she appears to have attained more than one Rhecknaw power. The fireballs from her hands were a new discovery. That is why I feel a kill order is the only way fo
rward. We don’t want her developing any more powers and being our enemy.”
The General nodded solemnly. He signed the kill order and stamped the file with the words ‘Extremely Dangerous’. “I’ll put one of our best agents on it. It’s a shame. She would have made a good ally.”
“One more thing, sir, might I suggest we keep agent four-five-nine in the dark about this? His emotional involvement might cause complications.”
“Agreed, Mr. Hanns, the last thing I need is an agent going rogue with this girl.”
He stared at the image of Carla Mainston and sighed. “She’s marked for immediate termination.”
Godfrey found it hard to keep his smile under control.
“Do you need my skills in this matter?”
“No, I’ll send in a cleaner for this one. You’d be better staying here right now. We need more people working on the data four-five-nine brought back.”
Staying in the safety of the main intelligence office, perfect!
“Yes, sir.” Godfrey waited for the General to leave, and then her let himself smile broadly.
That’ll teach that freak to mess with me.
“Come on!” Bex pleaded. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”
Carla shook her head. “I can’t. I get too messed up when I drink.”
“One time, you flip out! It happens to everyone. I promise I’ll have your back. It won’t happen again.”
Carla considered her options. I can drink and be merry or stay here on my own feeling miserable.
“Come on.” Bex grinned at her. “You’re too young to be an old maid with a cat.”
“Can she bloody see me too?” Gobbert piped up. “Cat, pah!”
Carla knew Bex couldn’t see or hear Gobbert. “A mangy cat,” she mumbled.
“Exactly!” Bex agreed, completely oblivious when Gobbert made a rather rude response to Carla’s comment.
“Okay,” Carla agreed. “But no purple drinks.”
“Yay!” Bex squealed and hugged her. “Now go get dressed up!”
Then she wrinkled her nose when one of Gobbert’s uncomftabubbles popped on her.
“What’s with the God-awful smell in here?”
Carla had chosen a little black dress, which showed off her legs and waist really well. Unfortunately, it was now hanging off her shoulder and was drenched by a spilt glass of beer. But in her head, she still looked great because alcohol made everything pretty.
Bex ran over and grabbed her in a drunken embrace, spilling a little more beer down her back in the process, but Carla didn’t care. She loved Bex and she loved dancing so much right now.
“Meet Max!” Bex shoved her into the chest of a big, strong blue guy.
“Hello,” Carla said to his chest, and then she giggled.
“Hi,” Max whispered in her ear.
She stepped back to check him out. He was hazy and seemed a bit rough around the edges, but he was attractive. She was pretty sure he was anyway.
Bex hugged them both together. “Let’s have some fun!”
“I thought we were!” Carla laughed.
“No, like real fun,” Bex said. “Something baaaad!” She squealed in both their ears.
“It’d have to be something special to keep me interested.” Max grinned and glanced at Carla. “Can you do anything special, little girl?”
Carla heard his mocking tone as a challenge. “I can do amazing things. Things that will alter your reality,” she boasted.
“Oh yeah, like what?” He rubbed the stubble on his jaw while eyeing her up.
She noticed a scar across his cheek and ran her finger over it out of curiosity. “Oh, you know. Stuff!”
Bex cackled. “She can redecorate a bathroom with throw up. It changed my reality.”
“No. I can do other stuff!” Carla protested. “Stuff other people can’t do.”
“Sure you can.” Max patted her on the arm, and then he laughed.
“I bloody can!” She began to get annoyed.
“Go on then, show us your stuff.” Bex cracked up laughing at her own words.
“Fine, I will!” Carla glanced up at the ceiling. Hundreds of balloons were netted to the ceiling, ready to be released at the end of the night. She grinned. “See those balloons.”
Bex and Max both looked up.
“I’m going to make them come down now,” she said.
“Okay.” Max folded his arms, unconvinced. “Do it then.”
She narrowed her eyes and concentrated on the net, sending her anger flowing toward it. It wobbled a bit. She frowned, getting angrier at it and feeling her power welling up inside her.
After a moment of pooling up the power, she released it full force. The net ripped in half with a loud bang! All the balloons popped consecutively as if something hard had hit them. Balloon guts fell from the ceiling and flopped onto people’s heads.
Bex pulled a piece of ripped rubber out of her glass and then burst out laughing. “Well, they came down.”
“Oops,” Carla said.
“That was fantastic! Do it again.” An excited glint lit up Max’s eyes.
“I can’t. No more balloons,” Carla picked some balloon guts out of her hair.
“What else can you do?” he asked.
“I dunno, weird shit,” she said, enjoying the look of awe on his face.
“Do some more weird shit,” Bex said. “That was so funny.”
She burst out laughing again when an older gentleman on the dance floor pulled a piece of rubber out of his hair, and his toupee came off with it.
Carla scanned the room. Everyone was looking at the ceiling, surprised. She grinned. What harm can having a bit of fun do?
Isabella watched the young boys ask a man in a suit for some money. They were begging in the city center of Kaens. She needed money too. She couldn’t get to Maklaw without supplies and something to cover her skin. She was also running low on water and food now, having only stolen enough from the bounty hunters for one day.
She could go to a bank and gain access to her own money, but she didn’t feel safe doing that here. Whoever was looking for her would be watching her bank account. It was too risky, so she watched the young beggars to try to learn a new way to get money.
Four young boys stood in front of the man with their hands out while appearing innocent. A fifth stood behind him, unseen by the man.
The man finally gave in and took out his wallet. He handed the boys a few small notes each, and then he replaced the wallet in his back pocket. The four boys scattered while the fifth boy bumped into the man before following them.
The man shook his head and continued on his way, completely unaware that the fifth boy had lifted the wallet out of his back pocket when he bumped into him.
Isabella sighed. This is going to be difficult.
She turned and glanced at her reflection in the window of an art gallery. Her face peered out from under a grimy, hooded cloak. It was a scary sight. Cracked mud caked her face with hollowed-out green lines showing beneath the mud.
She wouldn’t get close to anyone looking like this, but stealing did seem to be her only option here. How am I going to charm money from someone? All I can do is make people run away.
She turned and wandered into one of the back streets to get out of the public eye. The light was beginning to fade from the sky, and she’d achieved nothing today.
She wandered across a badly-lit parking lot and barely noticed the young man getting out of his vehicle. She was so angry with herself. How is it that I can get out of ropes in the desert, but not out of Kaens on public transport?
The man was locking his car door as she passed him. He made a tutting noise at the sight of her when she walked by. That was the final straw.
“Arrgh!” she screamed at him. She was frustrated and angry at the situation, and if she was completely honest, a part of her wanted to scare the shit out of him.
He yelped, dropped his keys, and ran out of the parking lot. She chased him for a few yards, st
ill screaming and then stopped at the edge of the parking lot, laughing.
He ran as if a demon was chasing him. Maybe one was. She laughed, but she felt like crying. She turned to leave, but then she noticed a set of keys on the ground, next to the open door of a brand-new car.
I’ll never get away with it, she told herself. Screw it. I’ve got nothing left to lose.
She scooped up the keys and climbed into the car. She started the engine, and it purred like a dream. The gas tank was full, and there was a wallet on the passenger seat. She smiled as she drove out of the city and onto the Kalamar highway on her way to freedom.
Isabella parked in a motel parking lot. She’d driven over a hundred miles away from the city of Kaens, and was finally beginning to feel safe. The car had more gifts to offer than a free ride. The wallet was stuffed with cash and a few credit cards. She decided against using the cards, they’d be traceable, but the cash would pay for a bed, a bath and some food.
She’d used some wet wipes, which she’d found on the shelf in the car door, to clean most of the mud off her face.
When she walked into the motel reception office, she looked a bit less scary. The guy behind the desk was young. He had frizzy red hair and matching stubble with pock-marked skin on his face and a tribal tattoo on both of his arms.
She approached the desk, hoping he couldn’t smell how badly she reeked right now. “A single room, please,” she said.
He pushed a registration form toward her. “Fill in the form.”
She filled in the form and pulled out some cash for the deposit. She pushed it toward him. He dropped a room key on the counter.
“Room twenty-three. Just follow the road to it.” He waved vaguely left of the office. “Café opens at nine,” he added.
“Thanks.” She grabbed the key and walked back to the car. She drove down the road to her room and parked outside.
She got out and went to the back of the car. She didn’t have luggage, it was all for show in case anyone was watching. Okay, I’m officially paranoid.
She popped the trunk, trying to look like a casual traveler, regardless of how insane it seemed. Until she got out of Kalamar, she wasn’t taking anything for granted.
Science Fiction and Fantasy Box Set 1: The Squishies Series Page 28