by Martha Carr
“He is Batfuck… You could have stopped him.”
“He can take care of himself. You should have seen him fight today. He is a badass super hero.”
“I’ll be here when you get back… unless the Fixer alarm goes off.”
“This is a much weirder life than I was anticipating a year ago.”
“We’re just getting started… Go get what you can and get home.”
Leira hung up the phone before she realized she hadn’t told Correk everything. Tess is alive and living under Paris. She shook her head. “Information overload.” Her brain was already swimming from all the information. “There’s time to tell him everything. I need a shower, a nap and a breakfast taco. I’m not sure in what order. And I’m talking to myself. Fuck me.” She stretched her back and took one last look up at the moon. “I can do this… we can do this.”
Yumfuck Tiberius Troll stood on the curb on the East side of Austin in the dim light of a street lamp wearing his blue cape and mask, slightly worse for wear from the fight at the vineyard. At the last moment he had remembered to gather them up on their way back to the portal. The cape had a rip from a claw, trampled by the shifters as they ran, and the mask was covered in dirt stains. The troll didn’t care. “I am Batfuck.”
He puffed out his chest and put his hands on his hips, turning in a circle looking for trouble. He jumped onto a nearby parked car and scrambled over the top, landing on the hood to get a better view.
Nothing.
A silver Honda Accord was sliding to a stop next to him and he saw his chance, leaping onto the roof and hanging ten over the edge of the front window, his arms out like he was riding a wave, his cape flying behind him.
The car turned a corner as they passed a Ford Explorer and a sleepy child raised his head in the backseat. “Hey, it’s Mighty Mouse! He’s real!” The boy pressed his nose up against the glass, turning in his seat as the Honda pulled away from them. The troll spotted the boy and waved, flexing his muscles. “I am Batfuck,” he chirped.
“Go back to sleep Joey, you’re dreaming.”
The Honda drove toward the frontage road to the interstate and Yumfuck leapt onto a passing red truck just in time. He wanted to stay in the neighborhood streets. Better chance of finding a crime to stop. The truck stopped at a convenience store and the troll overheard the driver calling his wife and telling her he’d be home in a few minutes with the diapers.
No action here.
The troll climbed up to the roof of the cab and held on as the truck finally got going again, pulling out of the parking lot. He saw his chance and jumped to a BMW, hooking his claws under the seam of the convertible’s roof, making it possible for him to stand up even as the car picked up speed.
But before he could do anything about it, the car easily pulled onto the highway headed north.
“Uh oh…” The troll’s cheeks flapped in the wind from the rush of air as he watched the signs fly by. Pflugerville, Round Rock, Georgetown… A semi hauling furniture pulled up behind the BMW, its lights shining directly on Yumfuck who turned and pumped his little arm, startling the tired driver who obliged and pulled the air horn right before he got off at the next exit to sleep for the night. “I am more tired than I thought. My hallucinations are waving at me.”
By the time the sun rose, Yumfuck was in Waco at a cattle ranch listening to the lowing of a herd of longhorns. “Damn, wrong outfit. Should have worn my boots. Next time. Aloha motherfuckers!” He waved to the cattle who looked up for a moment and quietly went back to chewing the grass. “Few hiccups but a pretty good start. Rescued a cat, went on an adventure. Check and check.”
Chapter Nineteen
Charlie Monaghan sat behind his desk in his home office stewing. No one was taking his calls anymore. His eyes were sunken and his skin was ashen from a lack of sleep and he was wearing the same shirt from a few days ago. Everything he had so meticulously built was falling apart. The board had held a meeting to make him emeritus and remove all daily duties, stripping him of power. They expected a fight, but the blackouts were becoming more frequent and there wasn’t much fight left in him. What there was left of his old voracious ambition was focused on holding the bits and pieces of his sanity together.
That wasn’t working either, and he knew it.
His wife had left their home along River Road in Richmond and gone to stay with her sister in the Hamptons for a while until Charlie could get his shit together. He roamed the house at night, staring at old photographs taken at political rallies and fundraisers where he was one of the stars.
All gone.
He wandered out of his office and headed for the kitchen, toasting a photo hanging in the hallway of himself and the governor, raising a Waterford glass of two fingers worth of Ragged Branch bourbon. “How the hell did I get here?” He took a healthy swallow and set the glass down on a tall, skinny mahogany table set by the stairs. “Somebody has to still owe me something. I know too much! That has to still be a card I could play. What if I started talking about all the Oriceran food getting ground into people’s cornflakes. I can crawl my way back if I have to.”
He wrapped his hands around his head and squeezed tight, shutting his eyes. “No, can’t let in any distractions. Doctors said there’s nothing wrong with me that a vacation couldn’t fix.” He wiped his sweaty face on the sleeve of his pale blue cotton button down shirt and shook his head, hard. “I’ll take a vacation when someone takes my goddamn phone calls!” His shouts echoed in the empty house.
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Senator Thatcher’s office, standing up straighter to get into character. “I can do this. Just like a million other times.”
“Senator Thatcher’s office.”
“Hey, Wendy, it’s Charlie Monaghan. Can you put me through?”
There was a slight pause, something new. “The Senator is in with constituents, but I can let him know you called. Was there a message?”
Same kind of bullshit message I tell my secretary to tell people. It wasn’t helping his mood. “You can tell the sumabitch I have a long fucking memory and to put me back on the list of acceptable callers.” He hung up before Wendy could answer him in what he knew would be the same even, light tone.
He picked up the glass and threw back the rest of the bourbon and headed back to his office.
The spinning relic still sat on his desk, mocking him. “You! You were the start of my problems. I blame you. Had to go playing with magic.”
He rested his fingertips lightly on the edge of the metal, surprised it wasn’t sparking or burning his skin. He gave the artifact a gentle spin, listening to the low-pitched moan it gave off as he poured himself more bourbon.
I can make them fear you.
“What?” Charlie looked up, feeling the edge of the darkness coming over him.
It happened a lot lately just before a blackout. He was finding himself in strange places more and more. Standing on a train platform at 126th in New York City during the morning commute or walking down 6th Street in Austin or even standing in the backyard of Senator Allan Kacy’s home in Hanover County, staring up at an old oak tree in the middle of the night. The howl of distant wolves startled him out of his stupor that time sending a chill down his spine. Wolves in Richmond… really?
You want them to fear you? I can do that for you. Open yourself to me. You can still have it all. No need to settle.
The voice was female, low and soothing, familiar. She had been whispering to him for weeks.
“My only fucking friend is a porn star in my head. Perfect.” He swished the bourbon around in his mouth and swallowed.
Open yourself to me, take back what’s rightfully yours. Make them fear you.
Charlie looked out the window at his lawn, still perfect, carefully tended to by the service that came like clockwork. He blinked his eyes, trying to remember what time of day it was and looked down at his wrist, startled to find his favorite watch wasn’t resting there. Somehow, that unmoored him most of all.
; He looked up at the ceiling. “Yeah, okay, why not? It’s been Freaky Friday for some time now. Portals to different worlds. Pointy eared men who can throw a mean fireball. Why not an invisible helper. Sure… go for it. I’m all yours.” Charlie distractedly drank down more bourbon, waving his arm. “I mean, what else can I lose at this point?”
The dark mist seeped in from every corner sliding toward Charlie, but it took a moment for him to notice and another for it to register with him that something was wrong. It was the unusual smell that he noticed first. Unpleasant but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
His eyes turned completely black as the mist crept closer.
“What the fuck?”
He dropped the glass, the crystal banging with a thud and a slight bounce against the thick Persian carpet, rolling onto the wood floor. Charlie’s body shook as he sunk to his knees, his eyes wide with fear, the darkness creeping up through his veins.
“Not like this…” It was his last words dropping off into a low moan as the dark mist enveloped him completely sucking him into the world in between, leaving behind a damp smell of bourbon on the rug but no other sign of whatever happened to Charlie Monaghan.
Lucius rolled his head to the side, stretching his neck. He was in human form, dressed in the clothes he stole from a house near the Napa estate. He could feel the mist gathering strength from more volunteers who played too long in dark magic and gave in to the call. “A human. Will have to do.”
He had gotten used to the draw of energy and was good at telling when the body that was claimed was magical or not.
He smiled, craving a shift into the beast but resisting the urge. The connection to the other side of the veil was strong but there was the mission, still. Hunt down Rhazdon. He could feel her presence in the world.
The dark mist had other plans and was trying to turn his head and get him to search for more energy. Go after Leira Berens. He was happy to oblige but that was second on his agenda. His muscles ached and his skin rippled along his back as he stopped just on the edge of shifting into the animal. “Not right now. Time to do some recon. You’ll get what you want, soon enough.”
The darkness was like a bad marriage for Lucius that he couldn’t quite shake and instead had to make compromises where everyone at least got their piece of hell.
Chapter Twenty
The troll rolled into the guest house after breakfast looking for food, still wearing his cape and mask.
“Whoa there…” Leira picked him and held him out in front of her. “What is that smell? Why do you smell like…” She held him just a little closer to her face. “Is that cow manure? Tell me you weren’t tipping cows. That’s not nice, you know.”
“You can tip a cow?” squeaked the troll, giving her a wink.
“Not exactly an answer.” She carried Yumfuck to the kitchen and pulled out an old plastic bucket from under the sink, filling it with a few inches of warm water and squirting dish soap in it. “Think of this as a bathtub with bubbles. Go for it. There’s bacon in it for you afterwards.”
“You had me at bacon.” The troll dropped the dirty mask and cape, draping them over the sides and dove headfirst into the water, doing the backstroke around the edge.
“Estelle’s making breakfast for me. The woman has some weird radar. She can always tell when I need comfort food. Try scrubbing off some of that while I’m gone. I’ll even see if I can wrangle a pancake for you. It’s like a flat doughnut…”
Leira went outside and found Correk sitting by himself sipping coffee. Estelle was behind the bar standing on her step stool drying glasses, occasionally glancing backward toward the kitchen.
Estelle came over with another mug and a fresh pot of coffee, setting both down in front of Leira. “Chow will be out in a few. You two take a load off.” A cigarette bobbled between her lips as she spoke. She blew a perfect stream of smoke just as the wind picked up, blowing it back around her head. She closed one eye and breathed in deeper, blowing out more smoke as she headed back inside the bar.
“Sure she’s not magical?”
“I check all the time,” said Correk, pouring coffee into Leira’s mug and pushing it toward her. “One hundred percent Texan. Hell, maybe that’s its own kind of hellacious magic.”
“Mom would agree with that.” Leira crossed her legs, trying to figure out how to start. Not a good way. “You okay? Look, I’m not good at checking on others. Not a lot of practice. Hagan will tell you I kind of suck at it. I mean if you’re in trouble I know how to run in and do my best but…”
“This is the most you’ve babbled the entire time I’ve known you.”
Leira gave him a crooked smile. “Yeah, I think we’ve entered the awkward phase.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“Yeah? Plenty of past elven conquests? Smooth, and you’re an effin liar. You didn’t answer me. You doing okay knowing Rhazdon is just across town living in really nice digs with your fearless mentor?”
Correk clenched his jaw but tried to hide it by drinking from his mug but Leira saw it. “I’m making peace with it. It’s not the first time I’ve had to let go of revenge. Probably not the last. The world got more complicated since we fought her on Lavender Rock and the stakes got higher. I can do something foolish and finally kill the bitch and lose the chance to put down the dark wizarding families before things escalate. Maybe even give away Lucius’ chance at getting back his old life…” He fell silent as Leira reached across the table and took his hand, lacing her fingers with his.
“When you put it that way, doesn’t seem fair to steal that from him. Despite what he’s become, none of this was his idea. You’re a good man, Correk.”
The gate swung open and Leira quickly pulled her hand back. Not ready to broadcast to the world. She felt her face warm as Correk smiled, arching an eyebrow. “Too much PDA?” he whispered.
“Not enough practice.” Still better at battling dark forces than just holding your hand. Not embarrassing at all. “Like I’m back in eighth grade but I can carry a gun and shoot off fireballs.”
“Ah, you do know how to talk dirty.”
“This is a surprising side of you. Like finding the good prize in your Crackerjacks. It’s a classic snack that came with a prize.”
“So much goodness yet to discover.”
“I can tell our trash talk is going to consist mostly of trashy food.”
“We’ll see.” Correk held up his hands and quickly made a small ball of light with a storm inside of it, handing it over to Leira.
“Okay… Elven gifts. Better than flowers but why the storm theme.”
“Patience…”
Leira held the small orb in the palm of her hand and watched as the storm passed and the Northern Lights shone inside. “Yeah, better than flowers.” The ball was slowly pulled apart by the wind still blowing across the patio, the blue and green lights still trailing behind it.
Hagan came through the opening, striding over to the table carrying a familiar pink box. “I figured you could use some of the good stuff after yesterday.” He set the box down on the table and looked around for a clean mug. “You think Estelle has any behind the bar? Hang on.” He ran behind the bar and was bent over digging around on a shelf when Estelle came out swatting him with a bar towel. Hagan stood up, backing up with his hands out. “Okay, okay. I invaded your territory. Just looking for a mug.”
Estelle gave out a disgruntled harrumph and handed him a mug, one hand on her hip as she looked over at Correk and Leira.
“What?” Hagan looked in the same direction but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. “I brought doughnuts. Do I smell bacon? Can I get in on some of that?” He thought for sure he heard Estelle mumble, ‘some detective’ as she went back into the bar.
“Thanks for sending Lois yesterday.” Leira looked inside the box and pulled out a chocolate cake doughnut.
“Wish I could have done more. Not used to being back up. Felt kind of weird. Rose says I’ll get used to it.�
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Estelle brought over a large tray that dwarfed her small figure, easily balancing it as she set down three plates, still giving side eye to Hagan. She went back inside without another word.
“Did I do something to her?”
I can be this kind of brave. Leira took Correk’s hand and held on, giving Hagan a crooked smile.
Hagan was still rustling around in the box and he looked up with a cruller in his hands, his mouth wide open. “Oh. Ooooh. Huh, well, I’ll be. You are still full of surprises, Berens. I suppose this means I lose the bet with Rose and Yumfuck. I swore you’d have to retire first before you’d really notice men. Rose picked a couple years from now. Gotta give it to the small furry one. He said this spring. Ironically, I got to shell out twenty bucks to him… again. Don’t ask.” Hagan bit down on half the cruller, pleased with himself as Leira gave him a dead fish look.
“There you go. That’s the Leira I know. A little hand holding, a menacing look… I get why the red-headed fire cracker is not too happy with my timing. Figures. It’s about my usual. Hey, does anyone know how Yumfuck got my number at home? He left Rose a message. I had to explain to her who was making that high-pitched cackle on our answering machine and what a troll is… Something about a new cape and a mask.”
Leira smiled watching her old partner finish chewing one doughnut while he searched for another one.
“Where is Yumfuck anyway? Don’t get up, I’ll take some of this to him. Pay off my debt.” Hagan carried his plate, piling on a couple more doughnuts as he walked away, whistling.
“Most graceful exit ever.” Leira had never heard him whistle, even standing in front of the food trucks.
“Pretty bold move on your part, taking my hand like that.”
“Meant what I said, Correk. I’ll walk this with you. We don’t have to fight the world alone anymore.”
Chapter Twenty-One