Regrets—Sabrina Has Had a Few
Jackson looked dumbfounded.
“Okay, so maybe telling you now wasn’t a great idea,” she said with a frown.
“I’m naked.”
“But the good news is, so am I. I mean that should help take your mind off you being naked some, right?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Sure, it does, but—”
“You just finished fucking the hottest girl you know and right afterward she opened her mouth and told you…surprise you’re a daddy?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, when Sabrina London drops bombs, she drops the biggest.”
Sabrina closed her eyes after she said it. What the hell were you thinking? You’re acting like the spoiled little princess bitch you were, not the queen you are.
Jackson didn’t say a word. He just stood there. Hands over his privates, looking like he was about to be hazed by a fraternity.
“How is this even possible? It’s only been six—seven months?”
“I’m Fairy-kind, we don’t carry our babies very long. We’re only pregnant a few months.”
“Oh.”
There was his dumbfounded look again.
“I’m sorry, Jackson.”
“For what?”
Sabrina had to think before responding—she had a lot of be sorry for. “For spoiling the moment?”
“Yeah, there’s that.”
“For lying.”
“That too.”
“For not telling you the moment I realized I was pregnant with your child.”
“Yeah…”
“For not—”
“I would’ve liked to have been there, you know. At the birth,” Jackson said, his voice full of sadness. “I would’ve liked to be there for you and the baby.”
Sabrina felt her armor crumble right off her. Now she felt naked both physically and emotionally. She folded her wings forward to wrap around herself, drew a deep breath, and tried to fight off the onset of tears.
“I-I…” But the tears won the battle.
As Sabrina began to sob, Jackson stepped up and wrapped his arms around her and her wings. Sabrina knew they burned him; she could smell the charred hair. But he didn’t show an ounce of pain, only compassion.
After withdrawing her wings, she allowed herself to melt into his arms. His warmth, his muscles, the touch of his skin, the beat of his heart—she had never felt so loved before in her life.
“Jackson, I love you.”
When he did not reply, her heart tore.
“This is all so much right now. I—”
“No, I get it. I do.”
Jackson unwrapped his arms and looked down at her as she looked up at him. “I don’t know how to feel. I’m kinda numb.”
“You’re numb?” she giggled as she cupped herself. “I’m throbbing from the beating I just took.”
She heard Jackson chuckle lightly as he stepped away. I’ve hurt him too much. Too often. But he still cares. That’s the kinda man he is.
“Where is she?”
“She’s safe. She’s back at the Water Kingdom palace, where no one can hurt her. She’s surrounded by hundreds of Water Spirit guards…and the Tainted, they can’t cross salt water, remember?”
“Can I meet her?”
Sabrina smiled. “Of course.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Jackson, did you think I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to know? I didn’t want the Tainted to know. I had to protect her.”
“I understand.”
“Listen, if my plan works, that’s all going to be in the past. Skipper is tough, and I trust her. She should be completing her final task soon. And once she’s done…well, either you can come back to the Water Kingdom with me, or I can come back here to L.A. with you.”
Jackson stared.
It was not quite the reaction Sabrina expected. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just a lot to take in.”
Sabrina reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “I know, and I’m sorry.”
“You already said that.”
“Well, like I said earlier, I owe you at least two apology fucks—I mean two more rounds of make-up sex.” Sabrina grumbled to herself and then continued. “Sorry. My language. It must be Los Angeles because I had this under control back on the island.”
“It’s okay. Your language is as much a part of you as your…”
“Tits?” Sabrina said with a laugh.
“I was gonna say long, blond hair, but that’s gone.”
“Oh. Yeah. Don’t worry. It’ll grow back.”
Jackson ran his fingers through the ends near her jawline. “I kinda like it.”
“Better than the blond?”
“Ummm…no. But it’s a nice change. You get to be someone else for a while.”
“I do.”
“It must be nice.”
“Kinda is, not gonna lie.” Sabrina smiled. “So…”
“So, what do we do next?”
“Clothes would be nice. Hey, I wonder if there’s a Walmart nearby,” she joked.
“Yeah. I’d send Weston in, but he’s gone. Left after the fire. I actually thought the two of you left together.”
Sabrina hadn’t meant to bring that up—and she knew more than Jackson did. Skipper had killed Weston—she would have killed Jackson too, if she’d had to. Just thinking about it made Sabrina feel sick to her stomach, but she reminded herself it was all almost over.
Sabrina sighed. “I’ll fly up there, see what’s going on. I’m sure it’s still a mess, total panic. We were only down here having sex for what…two, three minutes?”
“Three minutes?” Jackson looked shocked. “Fuck that—at least fifteen.”
Sabrina laughed. She felt better knowing he still had his sense of humor.
“Give me your keys. I’ll go get the clothes.”
“My keys fell over there, along with my wallet and what’s left of the clothes you burned off me.”
“Did I burn your clothes off?” she said, playing coy. “I did, didn’t I? I mean, technically, I only burned the front of your clothes off you; the back just kinda fell off.” Sabrina picked up the keys, turned around, and spread her wings.
“Damn.”
She looked over her shoulder at Jackson and smirked. “What? My wings or my ass?”
“Your ass.”
“Been doing squats. Nice, right?”
“The best.”
“Well, enjoy the view as I fly off to get your clothes.”
“Hey, if that ass abandons me again, I’ll never speak to it. Ever.”
“I think that might make it very sad, and no one likes a sad ass.”
Sabrina flapped her wings and took to a lower hover. The sparkle of the sun off the distant waves caught her eye. She had a good view of the ocean now; it must have been almost half a mile out.
“What? Something wrong?” Jackson called from below.
“Nothing, just looking at the waves, the water.”
“Do you miss it? Do you miss your new home?”
Sabrina looked at Jackson as she mulled over his question. What she really missed was her life with Mira, almost two years ago.
“Not as much as I…” She considered her next words carefully. “Not as much as I missed you, Stonewall.”
With that, she floated toward the cliffside where there was a powerful updraft, and allowed it to lift her up and away.
Not as much as I missed this…my freedom.
That L.A. Smog is Killer
Jackson gathered his wallet, pocket knife, and loose change from his ruined pants and then sat down on a flat rock underneath the cliff. He looked around, nervous someone would stroll up and find him naked. He tried to cover himself, but there was no use—he was naked. Very naked.
He’d felt less naked when Sabrina was there. She was naked, he told himself. If anyone suddenly walked up on us, they’d stare at her not me. Especially if her wings were
out. Fuck, she’s hot. Those tits…that ass…those eyes…that smile…
Jackson looked up to the top of the cliff. “I thought I was over you.”
His heart had not slowed since he’d laid eyes on her twenty minutes ago. He was counting the seconds she was gone. Each that passed made him more and more impatient. He could not wait for her to return—and it was not just because she would return with his clothes.
Maybe we should fuck again when she gets back. The thought made him hard. Maybe after that, we go get something to eat…maybe even talk.
“Come on, Sabrina, where are you?” he said and then looked out at the ocean. “If Weston were still here, I’d send him up to look for you. Damn it. Weston, you out there? Where the hell did you go?”
Jackson stood up, paced a bit, and then called to the air spirit again.
“Weston? Weston? You hear me out there?”
Nothing. Not a sound. Not a hint of the air spirit. Not until there was a gust of some of the most foul-smelling wind, Jackson had experienced.
Oh, I thought we were far enough out of town… He fanned his face and almost wretched. Smells like someone has been burning sewage and old sneakers.
“God, that’s terrible.”
His view of the distant beach became suddenly hazy. He squinted, rubbing his eyes. “Making my eyes go blurry. I can almost taste it…”
“Who are you?” a weak voice called out; it sounded like it was in front and behind him at the same time.
“Weston?”
“Who are you, human? How did you summon me here?”
Jackson looked about. “Is that you, Weston? Doesn’t smell like you.”
“Answer me.” The weak voice grew more tense. “I was miles away when suddenly yanked here. Now, I’m close…too close to the ocean.”
“Who are you? Where are you?”
The haze that surrounded him took the shape of a slender man about eight feet tall. His body, mostly grey, was as translucent as smoke.
“My name is unimportant to you, human. You wouldn’t care to learn it anyway. You humans care only about yourselves.”
“Air spirit.”
“Wrong. I am smog.”
“Smog? Living smog?”
“Just know that your blatant destruction of the environment gave birth to my kind. And know that you will die today, killed by one of the many—one of the Tainted.”
“I know what you are. I’ve seen Pollution.”
The being of smog choked out a laugh. “And you live to tell the tale? There will be a reward for your death.”
“Not today.”
Jackson saw his shadow move in front of him, like a bright light was at his back. With the cliff there, he knew it could be only one thing.
“A fairy? Here?” The smog spirit seemed very interested. “Who is she? Tell me and I will choke the life from you faster than I originally planned.”
“No one,” Jackson said. “No one at all.”
As Sabrina floated down, she called out, “Hey, Jacks, here are your clothes. All clear up there. Hope I didn’t take too long. I was able to get dressed in your backseat. No one saw me.”
“I see you, fairy!” the smog spirit shouted.
Before she landed, Sabrina dropped Jackson’s gym bag. “Oh shit.”
“Sabrina!” Jackson shouted before he thought about it. “Nuke this guy!”
“Sabrina?” the smog spirit said as he floated past Jackson. “Sabrina London? Here? But you’re supposed to be there…”
“I’m not here.”
The smog spirit coughed. “Ah, yes you are.”
“Jackson, we gotta go.”
“Once I pass this information on, I will be rich with rewards and you will be able to go nowhere…Water Queen.”
“Fuck! Jackson, I’m dead. I’m as good as dead,” Sabrina cried.
Jackson couldn’t stand to hear her say so. It boiled his blood and made him want to lash out at not just the smog being but her too. I don’t need this. I don’t need any of this.
As the living smog creature turned and began to float up and away, Jackson raised his hands and clenched them into fists. He turned them over, as if he meant to break a stick held between them, and when he did, the smog spirit was torn in two, right down the middle.
The being did not scream—it only released a gasp followed by a loud hiss. Jackson did not know how, but he had destroyed the thing with a simple, outraged thought.
“What the fuck? What the fuck, Jackson?” Sabrina stumbled backward, her wings stretching out defensively. “W-what did you do? What the fuck did you just do?”
“I-I imagined killing him, tearing him in two and then…”
“You did.” Sabrina stepped farther away. “That is some Alexander Kintner bullshit right there. How the hell—”
“I don’t know.” Jackson’s voice grew louder and faster. “Somehow-somehow my run-in with the man, it left me with this. He—I-I think I can control air spirits. At times, even the wind. I mean, sometimes. I’m not sure. I thought it was all in my head, but then Weston…Weston did whatever I said. He acted as if he had no control over my…commands. Weston got me starting to think it was something. Powers, maybe. But once Weston was gone, I had nothing. No powers at all. Sabrina, I—”
“Are you kidding me right now?” She crossed her arms over her chest, wrinkling the sweatshirt she was borrowing.
“No.”
“You did this? You killed him?” Sabrina pointed to where the smog spirit was last seen. “Is he really dead? Dead dead? “
“He’s dead.”
Sabrina withdrew her wings and stared blankly through him a moment.
“Sabrina?”
“Good,” she answered. “Okay. Good. It’s dead.”
“We need to talk.”
“You need to get dressed,” she said as she pointed at his junk. “And fuck! Fuck, I gotta go.”
“He’s dead. You’re safe.”
“You don’t understand.”
Sabrina turned to walk away, and when she did, Jackson looked down at his gym bag and then up at Sabrina; his decision was easy.
“Wait,” he said as he reached out and grabbed her by the elbow. “Wait.”
“Let go of me.” She tried to pull herself free. “I have to go. I have to run. I have to hide.”
“Stay with me.”
“I can’t.” She pulled harder, and this time she slipped out of his hand. “I gotta get away from here. Now.”
“Sabrina…”
She walked away, her pace unsteady on the uneven sand. Jackson watched her for a bit—only a few steps—before he picked up his bag and retrieved some shorts. Once on, he was able to think more clearly.
“Don’t leave me,” Jackson said firmly. “Don’t abandon me again, Sabrina.”
She stopped, cast her arms down to her sides and stomped her feet like a spoiled child. She turned around and shouted back, “You don’t understand! You can’t understand! I have to stay hidden until this is over. I have to stay hidden or this whole thing—”
“Don’t.”
“I have to!”
She turned and began to jog off. Jackson’s mind spun out of control. Sabrina had done it again. She had filled him with hope and then left.
No. You can’t do this to me again.
He looked around a moment before he realized exactly what he was looking for: a weapon.
I’ll kill you.
He imagined a baseball bat, saw it gripped tightly in his hand as he ran across the sand and up behind Sabrina. He knew what he wanted—he wanted to strike her down with it. He could see himself lifting the weapon over her head before he swung it down into her crown.
That’s right, he thought, as he imagined a look of shock on her face. I’m going to fucking kill you.
The fear in her eyes; he could see it like it was really happening. She would try and speak, use her seductive words to stop him, but it would be too late. The bat in his hand, it had transformed into a l
ong sword, one he would happily drive straight through her belly.
Fucking die, Sabrina!
“Jackson! Jackson!”
Her shout woke him from his delusion. He looked up from the sand and spotted her—she was so far away he could barely make out her face. She waved at him and shouted again.
“I’ll text you! Okay!”
His eyes blurred over. He raised his hand to wave back at her and forced a smile—at least, he thought it was a smile.
She turned away and continued to run off until he could no longer see her. He drew a deep breath and turned on his phone. There were no messages.
“Tell me,” he said into the phone. “Where the hell are the closest stairs up to the street?”
The phone beeped and then began to speak. “The closest stairs from the beach where you are located to street level are 1.2 miles south. Please turn and begin—”
“Thank you, Siri. At least you don’t abandon me.”
“You are welcome.”
City of Trash
It might have been midday in the middle of the week, but this corner of town was dead like it was 7:00 p.m. on a Sunday.
Amber stood across the street statue still. She had not moved for some time. She simply stared. This place had high walls that stretched for several city blocks.
It looked like an old human prison, but she could not tell if its purpose was to lock people in or out. She reminded herself, not all prisons have high walls. Amber had long felt like a prisoner of her birthright. Born fourth, with three older sisters, she felt extraneous. Her oldest sister, Carnelian—Carns for short—was everything her father wanted in an heir. She was tough, bold, smart, and driven. Carns would have been the first female ruler of an elemental kingdom, if it wasn’t for Sabrina’s ascension.
Amber could not deny it—Carns would make a good ruler one day. Her other sisters, Topaz and Agate, were no more than fluff. Amber hated them. They were pretty and charming, and all the men in the fire kingdom wanted them. In many ways, they reminded her of Sabrina. She would have considered them worthless if her father had not promised them both to princes born of the air and earth kingdoms. He was wise. He knew the limits of their worth and used them as such.
We’d be ruined if one of them ever became queen… I’d never let that happen—not if I survive the day.
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