“You remember everything properly, jerk.”
Kellan ignored her and continued, “Oh yes, I’ve got it, ‘We had injured Marines and Daugherty here is tough as Woodpecker Lips.’ Come on, Meghan, don’t bullshit a bullshitter. Somewhere deep down you like having every seriously bad ass Marine in the area calling you ‘Woody,’ cause they consider you even more bad ass than themselves.”
Kellan stared at Meghan’s profile and saw her mouth twitch up ever so slightly. He smiled to himself as he drained the rest of his beer.
Not for the first time, Kellan’s libido reminded him that Meghan Daugherty was an amazing physical specimen, even as she sat wearing an old extra-large t-shirt emblazoned with a stylized “Coca-Cola” logo and, what looked to be men’s boxer shorts. Her short, dark brown hair was cut in a way that always reminded Kellan of a young Demi Moore in Ghost, and she smelled slightly of what he knew to be Ivory soap. Despite his perfect memory, Kellan never tired of taking in the sights and scents of his reluctant hostess.
She smiled at him, “You know what, I think I want one of those beers too.”
Kellan heard the pop, hiss, click as two bottles were opened and their respective caps were captured by the magnet. Meghan handed him another Innis & Gunn, and he watched the muscles ripple along her arm as she slowly twirled the neck of the beer bottle between her fingers again sitting down on her stool.
“We’ve known each other a long time, right?” began Kellan. “I mean you were my first kiss and all.”
“Yes, a long time, and I remember. We were 14 and you kissed like a dying trout.” She grinned.
“Wow, a full-on Meghan Daugherty smile, I haven’t see that in a long time. Perhaps we should discuss my sexual deficiencies more often.”
Meghan wasn’t tall by any means, perhaps around 5’6”, but she bore the frame with a stature that clearly bespoke both former military and present cross-fit enthusiast. She smiled at him wolfishly, brown eyes twinkling and Kellan suddenly felt flushed.
“This a booty call, Kel?”
“Huh, no, Meg, no, nothing like that. I just have—”
“Aw, too bad,” she replied using what Kellan immediately recognized as her ‘come hither,’ voice that had left men wrecked across 15 states and the District of Columbia, which he reminded himself absently, wasn’t actually a state. She then yawned, and stretched, causing the t-shirt to ride up revealing, what Kellan believed was the most perfect stomach in human history even as the t-shirt also pulled taught against her breasts. “You, surrrree?” she said accentuating the final letters into dangerous purr.
Suddenly, Kellan was anything but sure.
Meghan walked up between Kellan’s spread legs as he sat on the stool, wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in, giving him a long, and passionate kiss that went on for years.
Finally, she broke the kiss, pulling back and giving his shoulders and arms an affectionate squeeze. “Ooh, someone has been working out too. Those arms are like iron. Come on book-boy, let’s relieve some stress.” Kellan felt himself being pulled gently but insistently off his stool and toward the bedroom. He was half off his stool when his frontal lobe finally engaged and got the better of his rather insistent reptilian core.
Kellan pulled his hand free from hers, “Meghan Chesterson Daugherty, I am not going in there with you.”
“Sure you are,” she replied with a grin even more predatory than before. “You totally want to.” She glanced down. “I can tell.”
Kellan followed her gaze, inwardly cursing that reptilian core, and waved in a general downward direction, “Mike down there has no say in the matter. I am in charge here an you are backsliding, mister.”
She stared at him silently for a moment, appraising him, then he saw her eyes go hard, all seduction evaporating.
“Fuck you, Kel. Get out.”
He sighed, “That’s my girl.”
She didn’t smile. “I’m serious, get out. If you aren’t going to give me what I need, then,” she paused, “I’ll use small words for you. Get. The fuck out. Before I shoot you—in the face.”
“I’m not going anywhere, and you have some explaining to do. When was the last time you went to a meeting? Have you even been talking to your sponsor?”
“Fuck meetings and fuck my sponsor; she’s a stupid army bitch and has no idea what I’m about. Now, I’m serious. I like you and we had some amazing nights together, but I will hurt you if you don’t get out.”
“Night, Meghan. It was one night and I still feel guilty about that.”
“Whatever, that’s yours to deal with, I enjoyed myself thoroughly.”
“This is not you Meghan. This is your—your illness talking.”
She hurled her beer bottle at him and Kellan deftly caught it an inch from his nose, gently setting it down on the counter.
“I don’t have an illness, you pretentious prick.”
“You do and clearly it’s gotten out of hand.”
“PTSD is bullshit. Sexual transference of trauma is bullshit. I’m a Marine god dammit. Marines don’t get PTSD; they give the other poor bastards PTSD.”
“It’s not bullshit. You are a Marine. I’ve no doubt you’ve left permanent psychological scars to enemies across the entire middle east, but that has nothing to do with anything. What I came to talk with you about has everything to do with your condition and I think I can help.”
“Ok, that’s it, I’ve had it with you tonight,” and she stalked towards him pulling both hands back, bracing herself, and smashing them, open palmed, against his chest pushing him towards the door.
Kellan absorbed the blows barely rocking backwards.
She looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and anger and he saw her countenance darken further.
“Uh oh,” thought Kellan as he reached inward for just a trickle of power, not enough to be seen, just enough to give him what he needed.
Meghan raised a knee to kick towards his stomach but Kellan pivoted ever so slightly at the last moment so felt only air. She turned to deliver a kick, but found he had leaned back scant inches past her reach. Yelling now, she delivered a flurry of perfectly executed mixed martial arts attacks, any one of which would have debilitated Kellan the bookstore owner. Each came within scant inches of connecting, but none did.
Meghan stopped, breathing heavily despite her obviously impeccable conditioning. She stared into Kellan’s eyes uncomprehendingly, and then he saw them well with tears.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” she cried, crumpling to the ground. She wrapped her arms around her chest and began rocking. “Oh god, I’m really losing it.” She looked up at him. “I had to have hit you. I had to have. Are you even here, or are you just another delusion like they where?”
Kellan was already on the floor beside her, holding her as the hot tears streamed down her cheeks; he felt her tremble. He leaned her down so her head was in his lap and he stroked her hair.
“I’m here, Meg,” Kellan said softly. I’m really here and I’m not a delusion.”
He felt her nod several times against his lap as he continued to rub her hair, “Ok, ok, ok, not a delusion.”
“Now Meghan, I have something to tell you. Something that will be difficult for you to believe immediately, but I want you to stay with me and trust me, ok?
Kellan felt her nod.
“First, I need to ask you probably the worst question I could ask at this moment and I want you to know that it’s because things are going to get better for you. Not just soon. Tonight, Meg. Things are going to get better for you tonight. You trust me, right?”
Another nod.
“Ok, here it is. I’ve never asked you to go into it. I’ve left it for others to poke, prod, or shrink you as the case warranted, but now I’m asking you to tell me what happened. What really happened in Samangan Province.”
Kellan felt her stiffen and watched as she pulled her knees up to her chest curling.
“No, Kellan, no!”
“Now,
wait, I told you not to freak out and give me a chance to explain.”
She was trembling again, “I can’t believe you are doing this. You! Of all people, I thought I could count on you to leave this alone and just be with me when we were together. To treat me as a person, not as some subject to be understood, or some broken thing to be repaired. Get out Kel.” But the heat had left her voice.
Kellan didn’t move. “Meg, I’m not going anywhere. I need you and, more importantly, you need me. You really do.”
He paused and she said nothing. “Ok, Meghan, I can see this isn’t going to work, so I’ll go first. I know what happened there. I know what you say you saw. I know what you say they did to those Marines and I know that everyone told you it was PTSD generated delusions, but I know better.”
Megan twisted so she was lying on her back, head in Kellan’s lap looking up at him, “What? How do you know all that and what are you saying?” She started to sit up, but Kellan stroked he hair back from her forehead and whispered for her to please relax and just be still.
“I know because your parents told me. They wanted me to confront you and tell you what everyone else told you, that you didn’t see what you thought you saw and that you needed to admit that as the first step to getting better.”
“But, but you didn’t,” she said softly.
“No, I didn’t, because I didn’t want to be that guy. I didn’t want to be that one more person to called into question your experiences there. Hell, Meghan, you are braver than me just for having been there. Who was I to step into your nightmares. But, all that said, I agreed with your parents, and your doctors, and the chaplains. I agreed with all of them.”
“Of course you did,” she sighed, barely above a whisper.
Kellan shook her softly and she looked back at him, “I agreed with them, and I was dead wrong, Meghan. Dead. Wrong.”
“What? What do you mean? Why are you saying that?”
“Because I know better now. I know Meghan. I know werwolves are as real as those scars on your back. I know they made the scars and they killed your Marines.”
She stared up at him, eyes starting to become wild again, “You know Kellan? How do you know?”
He bent down placing, a kiss on her forehead, “Well, Woody, that brings me to the big favor I have to ask of you.”
Kellan smiled in somewhat bemused surprise at the rapid transformation in his friend. Gone were the furtive glances, false seductions, and uncertainties. As Megan paced back and forth, bare feet slapping against the aged hardwoods, he saw the Marine who served two and half tours and garnered the respect of all who met her.
She looked over at him, “Do it again.”
“Which?”
“All of it.”
He laughed, “Ok, Woody, but just for you.”
Kellan reached out his hands and Meghan inhaled softly as she saw his eyes begin to glow with their supernaturally green light. Moments later, tongues of fire danced across the finger tips of his right hand, even as frosty mists of ice crystals performed similarly on his left. Making two fists, he softly lobbed the now flaming orb into the air followed by the ice. The two burst together in a hiss releasing a cloud of steam, which quickly wafted away.
“That’s just crazy.”
“Yeah, I know, right?”
“And, when I tried to pummel you earlier, you are not actually super fast, it’s just that you made me slow? I still don’t quite get that.”
Kellan shook his head, “Not so much making you slow, more like making time around me flow slowly. Everything is slower except me.”
Meghan sat on the sofa, folding her legs beneath her, “But couldn’t you just do the opposite too. I mean make time flow faster around you?”
Kellan paused thinking, “I suppose so, but what would be the purpose of that? I mean that would just give some baddy a virtually unlimited amount of time to kick my ass.”
“No, idiot, you wouldn’t use it like that. I mean, take for example a 3 min egg. You put a speed bubble around all that and, poof, egg done.”
“I’m pretty sure that expediting my culinary activities isn’t the best use of these abilities.”
Now Meghan was openly shaking her head, “So literal. No, Kellan, I was just using that as an illustration. You could use it for lots of things, like surveillance. Hang out, speed up time in your bubble, and everything looks like one of those time lapse movies. That has to be useful for something.”
Kellan pondered a moment, “Hmmm, that is good point. Not sure how much surveillance I may be doing, but still—figuring out how all this works is task #1.”
“So, back to the main point. Let’s be clear, you haven’t actually seen any supernatural bad boys, Vampires, Werwolves, One Direction?” She smiled at the last and Kellan’s heart warmed at the joke.
“No, however, that last one has me the most worried. Clearly they are destroying the musical tastes of an entire generation.”
They laughed and Kellan continued, “So, no to Vampires, and Werwolves, but yes to blade wielding skin-walkers that turn into Jell-O and Archangels”
“Alleged Archangels,” she replied holding up a hand.
“Dude, I saw them; you didn’t. They were the real deal. Angels are like porn; you may not be able completely describe it, but you know it when you see it.”
“Ha! Only you would juxtapose recognition of porn with that of Angels; I really wonder at the celestial judgment of tapping you for this post.”
“Trust me, I did tell them that anyone who would pick me for this isn’t qualified to pick anyone, especially me. But, apparently, I’m just what’s needed at this point in time.”
“A sarcastic, irreverent, nerd with an eidetic memory and a love for pop culture?”
“Exactly!”
They both laughed for what seemed like an eternity, slowly settling in to a comfortable silence.
“Let’s go back and save them,” Meghan said.
“Huh?”
“My Marines. Let’s go back, frag those bastard werewolves and save my Marines.”
Kellan frowned and held up his hands. “Easy Meghan, I’ve still got my training wheels on and don’t even have any idea how to rip open holes in time.”
“So, we learn, together.”
He ignored her. “And I don’t have any idea about the ramifications of altering timelines, or even if they can be altered. I could create a paradox. Or I could do something that causes a worse tragedy to occur.”
“Worse than an entire squad of dead Marines?” she said evenly.
“Yes, Meghan, as horrible as that was, yes it could be worse. I don’t know how it could be worse, but that’s the point isn’t it? Screwing around with time is not something I am going to do willy nilly. Again, even if such screwage is even possible. God set up all these physical and temporal laws and didn’t leave me a manual.”
“Well, then, God’s a dick and you can tell Him that for me.”
Kellan sighed, “Noted, but weren’t you listening to me? I’m completely blocked off from Him. No cards, no letters, no e-mails, no prayers. I’m persona non grata to the big guy, by design.”
“Then you’re a dick too. I want these monsters dead.”
“Now that,” Kellan began, pointing a finger at Meghan, “is a different matter entirely.”
She perked up. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean, my fine one woman wrecking crew, is that I do know how to rip space and we do know where these furry bastards were last hanging out. What’s to think that they aren’t still roaming around the same general area?”
“What’s to think they are?”
“Plenty. Micah told me that these critters tend to take on some aspects of their more bestial selves and one of those aspects is…”
“Territorial.” she responded.
Kellan touched his nose, “Ding ding ding.”
Meghan got up without another word and walked into her bedroom.
“Hey,” Kellan yelled after
her, “What are you doing?”
Minutes later she walked back into the room, already wearing desert camouflaged military pants and then peeled off her Coca-Cola shirt.
“Whoa!” shouted Kellan, almost, but not quite, turning away.
Meghan stood staring at him for a long minute, then smiled, “First, nothing you haven’t seen before and second, I’m no longer the slightest bit interested in,” she glanced down towards the floor, “Mike. But while I do appreciate your gallantry earlier tonight I also wanted to remind you of what you missed out on, so there.” With that she quickly pulled on her military tee and returned to the bedroom.
Kellan grumbled mostly to himself, “Trust me. I remember everything.”
From the bedroom he heard a lilting, “Oh, I know you do.”
Kellan sighed, “Frack me.”
Meghan returned to the living room holding a massive footlocker and dropped it on the coffee table, “Not a chance of fracking now, we have some monsters to kill,” and she flipped open the lid to reveal nearly every manner of firearm and knife. Time to gear up.”
“You gear up, Rambette, I’m good.”
She eyed him. “You are far from good. You need body armor, appropriate clothes, and weapons, unless you just plan to throw fire, ice, and lightning everywhere. Just let me give you a few things that will…” She trailed off as Kellan’s eyes sparked to life and his image shimmered, first revealing what appeared to her as gleaming silver mail covering him from neck to toe and then faded to be replaced by clothing that very much resembled her own.
Meghan closed her mouth, “Okaayy, Lancelot, I’m assuming that the shiny stuff you are wearing is better than ballistic Kevlar.”
Kellan just smiled in return.
“And weapons?”
Kellan held out his right hand and a brilliant longsword formed in it from mist that had coalesced there.
“Kinda big,” said Meghan nonplussed.
Kellan raised an eyebrow and the sword shrank in size with ornate carvings forming on the blade.
“Oh, you did not just do that, you juvenile geek.”
“What?” asked Kellan innocently.
“You know very well, ‘what’. That is totally Bilbo’s sword.”
Sentinels of Creation: A Power Renewed Page 14