by Autumn Dawn
Her heart melted. If he meant that… “Maybe we should get out of here,” she said huskily.
He smiled slowly, his gaze heated. “My pleasure.”
Cara felt distinctly overheated as they exited the restaurant. She slid a glance at Tremor and the answering heat in his eyes excited her. She wanted to touch him, was eager to be alone.
So of course her mother called.
Cara flinched at her mother’s ring tone. She’d been avoiding her, finding excuses to keep their calls short. It was childish, and she needed to deal with it. “Hi, Mom,” she said, shooting an apologetic glance at Tremor.
He tilted his head, indicating understanding, and inhaled deeply while studying the surroundings.
Strangely, his patience only made her hotter. Clearing her throat, she said, “Uh, yes, I’m feeling better. Much better,” she said, shooting a look at her handsome companion. “Dinner? Well, I’m free…” She raised her brows at Tremor, who nodded decisively. “He can come too. Yes, it would. I’m sorry. I know.” She shut up and let her mother chastise her. “I know you do. I love you, too. I’ll see you soon.” She stared at her phone glumly. “I should bring her a gift.”
“Jewelry or flowers?” he asked astutely.
She blew out a breath. “With Mom, it’s flowers every time. Also, it would be smart to pick up some of her favorite cupcakes. We’ll make it a dozen. She’ll complain that we’re ruining her diet, but she’ll fight Dad for the last one.”
“I’ll send someone,” he offered, then took her hand. “You’ll be busy for the next few hours.” A portal opened and the next thing she knew, they were in what she assumed was his bedroom.
His kiss was electric, erasing thoughts of everything but him. She gasped as he quickly shifted their forms to dust, sending pulses through the cloud that make her body glow like dust in a sunbeam, filling her with incredible pleasure. She shuddered, attempting to resume her form and was shocked by a climax. Her erogenous zones were everywhere; he was woven tightly into her molecules, a hard binding that made her explode again and again. He increased the friction of their particles, making her shudder with pleasure that was almost pain. It went on and on, a joining that left her blind and weak, and when he finally allowed her to resume her human form, she collapsed on the bed. Naked and utterly limp, she shivered as he snuggled under the sheets with her, his body hard against her back.
It was a long time before she could speak. “What…was that?”
He caressed her stomach. “Elemental lovemaking. I apologize; I was aggressive. Are you hurt?”
Hurt? Stunned, definitely. “I didn’t…I never expected…”
His arm tightened and he turned her to face him. “It was your first time. I should have gone slower. You’re shocked.”
“I think I am,” she said softly, flinching a little at his touch. “Humans can’t…we don’t have the parts to do that. I didn’t know you could.” She shivered, a little afraid of how good it had been.
He looked at her closely. “Was it pleasurable?”
She looked away shyly. “Yes.” After a moment, she worked up the courage to ask, “Is that how you normally make love?”
He trailed his lips over her neck. “When I’ve been incarcerated for 800 years,” he murmured. “But in that form, generally…” He gently changed their forms and showed her, coaxing her to trust him, teasing her to relax as his particles slowly mixed with hers. He taught her to crave him, to want the tight friction he gave her. The orgasms were just as blinding, but this time she wasn’t frightened.
Completely spent, she assumed her human form on her own power and lay panting on the bed. He materialized and pulled her over to rest on his chest. “Mm?” he asked.
She huffed in response. “Is that how all elemental men make love?” She was satisfied, exhausted, yet it was difficult to equate what they’d done with sex.
“You’ll never know,” he said sternly, but it was ruined by his satisfied stretch. “Rest, little one.”
She would have said something about his bossiness, except she fell asleep.
Cara clutched her flowers nervously as Tremor opened a portal to her parents’ house. Her mom paled when she saw them step through, and her hand went to her throat in a protective gesture. Cara would have said something about that, but the priest standing next to her mom caught her attention.
“Cara, honey, hi. This is Father Diaz, the new priest at the mission. He’s a dinner guest,” her mom said nervously, breaking the awkward silence.
Ah. Cara took in her father’s annoyed face, noting that his disapproval seemed directed toward his wife. She glanced at Tremor, but the priest stepped forward, hand extended. She juggled the huge bouquet of lilies and roses awkwardly, unprepared.
Tremor set the cupcakes on the kitchen counter and smoothly shook the man’s hand, his body protectively shielding her. “Mr. Diaz,” he began, and cursed as the man tossed holy water in his face. Caught by surprise, he crushed the man’s hand in reflex.
“Fiend!” the man howled, cursing a blue streak. He reached into his jacket and pulled a gun; Tremor caught his arm and deliberately crushed the bone.
The priest screamed and dropped to his knees, cursing. “The Oracle will destroy you,” he sobbed, shaking with pain. “She will avenge me.”
“Will she?” Tremor asked softly, and crushed his skull.
Cara’s mom screamed and scrabbled around the counter to Paulo. Cara realized she was still holding the flowers and set them on the first flat surface, the couch. Torn between helping her parents and Tremor, she cringed as half a dozen people dressed in Sunday best burst out of her room and charged Tremor, guns blazing.
Tremor threw up a hand, opening a portal under their feet. Screams echoed as the people dropped out of sight, the hole closing after them. Turning, he did the same for the bloody body, nodding at the dust clouds that shifted into the room from the vents. “The situation is contained,” he said as the dust became earth elementals. “Clean the room, leave no evidence.” He turned to her parents and regarded them silently.
Cara took a step forward, prepared to defend them, but stopped at Tremor’s raised hand.
He looked at her. “How would you prefer we handle this?” His tone was icy, but it mattered that he asked. “You could have been killed.”
Her expression softened. “Thank you.” For letting her have a say in this. For caring about her feelings in such an extreme moment.
She looked at her parents.
“Cara, I’m sorry,” her mom said, clearly shaken. “We didn’t know. I didn’t know,” she said, glancing guiltily at Cara’s father. “He was there at confession, and he listened so well, seemed so nice…” She glanced at the now perfectly clean carpet and gulped. “I thought he could help you.”
Cara’s heart hardened. “He tried to kill my husband; this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been prejudiced against him,” she said angrily. “You’ve got a lot to think about before I can handle talking to you again.” She sent a wounded glance at her father. He might not have wanted this, but he hadn’t stopped it. “This new body, this new me, is forever. I don’t have the option to change, but you do.”
Tremor staggered, and she reached for him, concerned. “What’s wrong? Were you hit?”
He waved her off, gripping a chair back to steady himself. “Stay back. I think the water was poisoned,” he said hoarsely. “We have to go.” He opened a portal, which wavered alarmingly. He glared, and it steadied. He waved her through. “Hurry.”
Cara glanced behind to make sure he followed, sparing a glare for her parents. She hurried through, her hands hovering impotently with the urge to grab Tremor as he stumbled through. Instead, she called for Rosestone to fetch the doctor.
Controlled chaos ensued. Tremor was transported to a hospital and put into a detox shower, then subjected to tests that confirmed poisoning. Unfortunately, it wasn’t treatable.
“What?” Cara rose from her chair beside Tremor’s bed to
stare at the doctor. “What did you say?”
“I’m sorry, my lady. There’s nothing we can do,” the doctor said regretfully. “The poison is a rare earth, very toxic. The best we can do is make him comfortable for the next few days.”
Cara looked from Lord Sarsen’s stoic face to Tremor lying on the bed, barely conscious. She took a moment to collect herself. “There is no way the Fates put me through hell just to change me and then let him die,” she growled. She was angry and she was going to stay that way, because the alternative was grief. She paced the small room, thinking furiously. A thought hit her and she froze. “Mushrooms,” she whispered. “Mushrooms can detoxify contaminated earth.”
“I don’t follow,” the doctor said, frowning. “Mushrooms are an infection, not a medical treatment.”
Cara fixed him with a hard stare. “Humans use mushrooms to detoxify toxic dirt. Fungus can break down almost anything.”
“With respect, I’m a doctor, not a gardener or a mud bogger hedge witch.”
Cara seized on his comment. “Mud boggers use mushrooms?” She looked at Lord Sarsen for confirmation.
“Mud boggers do many odd things,” Sarsen said slowly. “I could look into it.”
“My lord, I can’t be a part of experimenting on my patients,” the doctor warned.
“Of course.” Sarsen left the room, the doctor at his heels, pressing his point.
Cara’s phone rang. She thought about ignoring her mother, but finally answered. “Mom,” she said with barely suppressed rage. “I’m in the hospital right now.”
“How is he?” her mother asked, her voice strained.
“Why? Curious if your assassination attempt worked?” Cara couldn’t believe that came out of her mouth, but she was furious. How could her mother do that to her? To them?
“Cara!” her mother protested, shocked. “We were going to talk about a wedding. I thought he was a priest!”
“I saw your face when we arrived. You weren’t against a bit of exorcism,” Cara accused.
Her mom sputtered. “I didn’t…I never…we don’t even know what he is!”
“He’s not a demon! He’s an elemental. He’s not out casting spells and sacrificing babies! He’s magic because they’re all like that. It’s natural for his kind.”
Her mom took a ragged breath. “I’m just very confused right now, baby. I want to believe you, but he never leaves you alone and you’re…”
“I’m an elemental, but I’m still me. I’m your daughter! This wasn’t my idea, but there’s no going back. I can’t undo this.”
“Maybe if we pray,” her mom suggested, distraught.
Argh! “Maybe this was God’s plan for me, Mom. It’s not as if God’s surprised, right? Do you know everything about how He works? Because I don’t. I didn’t do anything to deserve this, but maybe it’s not a punishment.” She fought to keep her voice even. “Look, Tremor’s really sick. I have to go.”
Her mom was crying. “Okay. I understand. I…I’ll be praying for your man to get better. And baby…I love you. I’m sorry.”
“Okay,” Cara rasped. She fought with her anger and managed, “I love you. I’ll call you later.” She hung up, conflicted. She wanted to hurt her mother for the pain she’d caused, but she’d regret it later. They would have to resolve this, but not now.
Now she needed to pray.
“Are you sure he’s home?” Cara looked around the twilight cypress swamp doubtfully. Mushrooms and moss glowed as the sun set, casting the swamp in otherworldly light. They stood on a rise, the path leading to a large house that reminded her of a whimsical English cottage with a green, Spanish tile roof. There was a garden around the house, but she wasn’t familiar with the plants. She wasn’t sure some of them were plants; one coral-like bush had prickly pear shaped crystals on the tips.
A woman came outside and stood on the front steps with her arms crossed. She was dressed in khaki canvas cargo pants, a black t-shirt and black boots. Her black hair was pulled back in twin French braids and she had flawless brown skin.
She didn’t look thrilled to see them.
“Good evening,” Sarsen said politely. He was dressed in serviceable clothes that still managed to look elegant. Maybe it was because they were new, or maybe it was the way he carried himself; like royalty inspecting the troops. He didn’t appear to be armed, but an elemental of his power was a weapon. “We’re looking for a guide to the Mushroom King. I was told Jaft Eker was the best.”
“Jaft Eker is dead,” the woman said. “I’m his daughter, Lizba. I’m the guide now.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sarsen said politely.
The woman nodded. “What do you want with the Mushroom King?” She looked at them appraisingly. “I don’t do drug runs.”
“Good. We need a medical consultation for a poison victim.”
She tilted her head. “Now I’ve heard everything. At least it’s creative. Just a minute; I have to lock up.”
Sarsen nodded and moved away to admire the garden. When they were out of earshot, Cara murmured, “What’s the deal with mud boggers, anyway? Everyone seems to look down on them.”
“There’s a stereotype for a reason,” Sarsen said softly. “There are more drug dealers, pimps and prostitutes among their kind than any other. Those who don’t deal directly in illegal trade supply fertilizer to feed the drug fields, food for the drug lords, etc. They are a vicious, unprincipled race.”
“All of them?” Cara probed, having a hard time believing it.
“There may be exceptions,” Sarsen admitted, but he looked doubtful.
“Listen to him, Gecko,” Lizba said lazily as she strolled past them, carrying a pack. “Nice girls don’t survive the swamp.” She nodded to a small grassy hill with a single stone marker. “We buried my father’s dust last month and wrote his name on the marker. He was one of a long line of drug smugglers and con men. Universally hated, universally feared.”
“You hated him?” Cara asked, hurrying to keep up with Lizba’s long strides.
“Universal,” Lizba retorted, and fell silent.
Okay, then. If Cara had any romantic fantasies that Lizba would turn out to be the smuggler with a heart of gold who would steal Sarsen’s affections and overcome the mud bogger stigma, she was sadly disappointed. Lizba might not do drug runs, but she was matter of fact about her slaver ex-boyfriend, her uncle’s drug deals and her cousin’s escort service. She had a special love for making Cara grimace.
Cara learned to ignore her. The beautiful swamp helped. Cara had visited Louisiana once and expected mud-encrusted trees and lots of dirt from the coastal storms. In the elemental world, she found a luminescent swamp worthy of a fairy queen. Moss and flowers glowed, fireflies frolicked and the alligators had no interest in eating a rock. Best of all, the mosquitos ignored her. If it hadn’t been for the nefarious inhabitants, she’d happily vacation there.
Soon ferns and mushrooms dominated the underbrush. Brilliant red caps with white polka dots grew next to delicate fairy bells and slender, pastel mushrooms. The land grew firmer, the trees closer together until they ended in dark cave.
Lizba looked at her and smirked. “Scared?”
Cara shook her head. “The last time I entered a cave I set three elementals free and ended up with a whole body makeover. I’m not fond of them.”
Sarsen squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “That ended well. This will, too. Come on.”
After a few yards, the cave grew lighter, glowing with pastel lights. The tunnel widened into a larger cavern with an opening large enough to drive a bus through at the far wall. It was guarded by tree-tall mushrooms and two toads the size of Volkswagens. Their squat bodies were dark green fading to burgundy on the spines, and they seemed half-asleep.
“Don’t be fooled,” Lizba warned. “Their tongues are lighting quick and have glue that will hold you, even in dust form. Keep your mouth shut and don’t stomp the mushrooms.” She strode across the mossy meadow, ignoring the gi
ant iridescent black beetles, careful not to crush the little mushrooms. No doubt the mushroom people would find it disrespectful.
She put her palms together and bowed before the entrance, then carefully took off her pack and removed two bundles, which she placed before each toad. She stepped back and the toad’s tongues snatched the snacks, quick as a cobra. She bowed again and gestured to the others to follow her.
This tunnel opened into a mossy cavern of human-sized mushrooms, gathered in little groups. As they crossed the slightly damp ground, Cara noticed with surprise that the mushrooms were people. The people had tiny feet barely visible under the stalk, and their caps looked like wide human hats. A mushroom in a dress and sunbonnet stood next to a male in a tunic and wide brimmed hat. They focused on the small mushroom at their feet shaped like a schoolboy. Their plump ‘shroom faces glanced at them with mild curiosity. Next to them a plump ‘shroom matron guarded a sprouting mycelium that had a distinctly phallic appearance. They walked the path, moving around the rooted inhabits. There were a few mushroom shaped buildings, but the ‘shrooms didn’t seem to need shelter…or possessions.
“What are those buildings for?” Car asked, feeling creeped out. She’d never encountered anything like the ‘shrooms, and she had the vague feeling of being in a horror movie. Any minute the slow moving ‘shrooms could sprout giant maws and deep-water teeth and charge.
“Manure storage. Other than offspring, it’s the one thing they value.”
“So they eat…” Cara didn’t know how to say it politely.
Lizba raised her brows in challenge, then smirked. “Oh, yeah. The more exotic, the better. Eagle droppings are the equivalent of exotic wine, and a ton of okapi manure will buy you anything you want.”
Cara glanced anxiously at Sarsen. “Do you know where to find an okapi?” She knew it was a rare, giraffe-like animal with zebra stripes, and thought vaguely there were some in zoos. But how to collect the crap?
“I’ll take care of it,” Sarsen assured her. He laughed at the face she made. “Not personally! These things can be purchased, you know.”