Amie came up beside me, balancing her tray on her hip. “What’d they tip you? Fifty cents?”
“Twenty.”
She groaned. “We should chase them down and talk to their parents.”
“We should chase them down and beat ‘em up for their lunch money.”
“You both should get back to work and stop fantasizing about robbing our young patrons.” Marcus lightly squeezed both of our shoulders and then nudged us away.
I spared one last glance back at the empty office and blew out a breath. Please, Lord, let them be okay.
2
Beast
Seventy-five years and I still missed the old world. The swamps of southern Louisiana’s delta basin were fine, but they weren’t the same. I’d done my best to build my castle in this human world, but something about the place wasn’t home. I missed the massive towering castles where I used to perch as a youngling on the centuries old stone turrets and breathe fire at anyone who dared approach.
I listened to the two males creep closer. Still about a mile out, I heard them as they crossed over my property line. I couldn’t suppress the grin. Fortunately, I still got to have a bit of fun once in a while. By the way they were navigating the marsh, they were traveling with a purpose. It wasn’t the first time humans had come nosing around to see what was lurking deep in the interior of the swampland, although, due to the stories and rumors, it was a rare occurrence.
Some said, usually in whispers, that a voodoo priestess had cursed the area and all who ventured far enough into the swamps were damned. Others spoke of the rougarou, Cajun werewolves, frequenting the area. Luckily, superstitions were rampant in this part of the deep south and tales of sinister happenings deep in the bayou were handed down from mothers to babes. Once a body entered, they said, he might never return.
The stories and rumors were all started by yours truly, of course. I wasn’t a fan of trespassers. Besides, if they knew the real truth, they’d run for their weak, puny, little lives. The way my enemies of old once had.
My nostalgic reminiscing of the old world was expressed in a long, low sigh and I sank into the cushioned chair that the human interior designer had sworn I would love. Surprisingly, I did. That was one thing the old world didn’t have, these chairs. What had the squeaky human male called it? Ah, yes, an ergonomic exterior patio lounger and recliner. Strange name for a chair. I kicked my feet up on the stool that accompanied it and gazed out at my swamp. A napping alligator lounged nearby, not a care in the world. He liked to remain close when I was outdoors and I figured he was better to have around than one of those yapping little furry creatures that humans seemed to love.
I breathed in the thick air. It was warm and heavy and caused my clothes to cling to my body and beads of sweat to pearl across my forehead. That, at least, was a familiar feeling. The heat in the new world wasn’t all that different than the heat from fire breathing.
The two human males were getting closer. They were both quiet, probably assuming they were approaching undetected. The smile of joyous anticipation that spread across my face arose from my deepest internal depths, a smile from the beast that I harbored—the beast that I was. The males had no clue what manner of terror they were about to encounter.
Suddenly, Cezar’s annoying voice sounded in my head reminding me that we didn’t eat humans. Fuck. I kicked the stool away angrily. What fun was life without being able to flame and devour those who thought they could sneak up and catch you off-guard?
Cezar and, well, all the dragons had adjusted to this place better than I had. They weren’t like me. They were babied, coddled, little fire breathing lumps. They’d learned and followed human rules and customs and didn’t seem to mind that we’d had to flee our own world, that we were forced to chill here, as Blaise always put it. I minded. I’d owned and presided over a vast territory in the old world. I’d ruled with such great power and might that—
My thoughts were interrupted. The males, mere younglings from the scent, were edging closer still. I’d have plenty of time to finish my mental rant later. Right then, I had trespassers that needed to be dealt with.
As if sensing the overwhelming predatory response in me, the alligator swung his tail and snapped his teeth before sliding effortlessly back into the water.
I stood from my chair. Too bad. It was so comfortable I hated to leave it. Another reality of the human world. It encouraged laziness.
I slipped into the swamp behind the alligator and positioned myself so I could see the young males when they got closer. They’d been wordless up until that point. For some reason, they waited until they were almost right on top of my home to break their silence. Hunters, they were not.
“Sky is going to kill us, Casey.”
“No, she won’t. She’ll have a shit fit and then she’ll get over it, like she always does. She won’t stay mad forever. She’ll cool off eventually.”
“One of these days, she is going to stay mad. And then what? What do we do then?”
“Then, we figure something else out.”
“Something else?” The older male raised his voice. “You’re an idiot, you know that? There is no something else. She’s it. She’s all we got.”
“Just shut up. We’re almost there. Josh said that this is it, right up here, around the last bend.”
“What’s the point of this, anyway?”
“To see the swamp monster, duh.”
“This is why I shouldn’t let you talk me into things. You sneak out and get us into trouble doing stupid childish shit like trying to see a monster in a swamp. Does it look anything like the Creature from the Black Lagoon? How old are you, anyway? Fourteen going on five?”
“Oh, eat shit.”
“You eat shit.”
They were right in front of me at that point. I stepped silently in front of their boat, shielded by the cover of nightfall and dense vegetation. “You both can eat shit.”
Both boys screamed as I lifted the boat out of the water like it weighed nothing. Then, I turned it over and dumped them out of the boat and into the dark, murky water. When they came up, they were still screaming. I tossed their boat towards the dock before picking them both up by the backs of their necks.
“Just what the fuck are you doing in my swamp?”
“Don’t kill us! We just wanted to come and see the swamp mon—uh—” The smaller male smelled like fear and urine, so I dunked him back into the water.
“We’re sorry, m-mister. We’re sooo sorry. We’ll go. We’ll go right now and we won’t tell a soul! Not one single, solitary soul.” The bigger one was frightened, but he also scented of determination. He was the protector, although, from the sound of it, he’d allowed the smaller one to lure him into trouble.
“Why did you come to my swamp?”
The little one shivered. “My friend said that he saw a…a swamp monster.”
I grinned, knowing my smile could in no way be interpreted as light and friendly. “You want to see a monster? You’ve come to the right place. I’ll show you a monster.”
They both shook their heads, or tried to. With me holding their necks, the movement looked more like a spasm. The small one’s eyes filled with tears. “No, please. Let us go. Don’t kill us. Our Aunt Sky will come looking for us!”
“And what do you think your Aunt Sky is going to find when she comes looking for you? Nothing but your bare bones picked clean after I’ve roasted you over an open flame, slathered with my favorite Cajun hot sauce. I’ll devour every tender morsel of your flesh.”
They both started struggling harder to get away, but their efforts were in vain. They were helpless against my superior strength. When they tired themselves sufficiently, I dropped them back into the water. Then, I pondered what to do with them. Cezar’s voice filtered into my head again, demanding I send them home to their adult.
“No! They are intruders and must be dealt with. I shall—”
“They’re babies.”
“Hah! The ruffia
ns have broached my territory.”
“Let. Them. Go. Release them to their adult.”
He annoyed me sometimes. Nevertheless, I grabbed their shirtfronts and dragged them through the water. “Come on. We must summon your adult to come and retrieve you.”
“We can just take our boat back home, sir.”
I pulled them faster. “No. We must call.” Damn Cezar.
“It’s late. If we call our Aunt Sky, she’s going to be majorly pissed at us. And, we took her boat while she was at work. She won’t even be able to get here.”
“Too bad.”
I dragged them to my house where I dug around in a kitchen drawer until I found the phone that Cezar had demanded I take. I tossed it to the older male and nodded at it. “Call.”
“But—”
I grabbed the little one and sniffed him. “I think I’ll start with his arms.”
“Fine!” He screamed. “I’m calling! I’m calling!”
3
Sky
I jerked upright when my phone rang. I’d fallen asleep at the kitchen table while worrying and waiting for the boys to come home. I grabbed my phone and snapped it open.
“Nick? Casey?”
Nick’s voice was quiet as it came over the line. “Um…Aunt Sky?”
I stood up and clutched at my chest. “What is it? What’s wrong? Are you at the police station? The emergency room? Oh god, where’s Casey? Is he with you? Please tell me he’s with you.”
There was more hesitation. “We’re okay. I think.”
“Where are you, Nick?” I was already grabbing the keys to my beat up Ford pickup. “Just tell me where you are and we’ll figure the rest out later.”
“We’re out on the swamp. Past Bulcon Bay.”
I stopped and dropped my car keys. “Nick, you took the boat? How am I supposed to get to you?”
“I don’t know, Sky, but please come and get us before this guy eats us!”
“Where past Bulcon Bay? How far?”
“I…I don’t know.” He spoke to someone in the background and then muttered out more directions.
I got the idea, at least enough to find the general area. I’d been raised in the bayou and knew parts of it like the back of my hand. I could navigate the swamps well enough to get me close to the place Nick described. Along with my familiarity of the swampland came an awareness and respect for it that the boys obviously didn’t possess. It was idiotic to tempt mother nature by venturing deep into the bayou at night. The swamps weren’t safe. They were chock full of gators and other creatures waiting under the surface of the water to strike out at whoever was stupid enough to disrespect its inherent danger.
Me, apparently. At that moment, I was stupid enough. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
The clock on the wall was not my friend and I swore when I realized that it was almost midnight. No one would be awake to loan me a boat. My neighbor, Jude, would be pissed at me, but I’d just have to take his and apologize later. Extreme situations called for extreme measures and all that, and this was an emergency.
I raced out of the house, the screen door flapping closed behind me, and crept back behind Jude’s house. His boat was moored to the little dock in his back yard, welcoming me. I knew he kept the key in the shed by his back porch, so I crept over and opened the door as quietly as I could, feeling around for the hook. I snatched the key and took off running out to the boat just as I heard Jude’s back door open.
“What the hell are you doing?!” The angry voice of my nearest neighbor bellowed through the night.
“I’m sorry, Jude! It’s an emergency. I have to go get the boys. They’ve got my boat and they’re in trouble!” I untied it and started the motor almost in one fluid motion and gunned it away from the dock.
“When are they not in trouble? Come on, Sky. This is theft.”
“I’m bringing it back, Jude. That’s not theft; it’s borrowing. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
He stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at me—a look so fuming I could see it in the pale light cast by the sliver of a moon. I debated offering a friendly wave as I turned a corner on the little waterway behind our houses, venturing farther into the swamp. Naw, that would only piss him off. An apology and a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies would probably be a better way to restore our neighborly harmony. I’d worry about it tomorrow.
I switched on the spotlight at the front of Jude’s boat and shivered as the illumination immediately caught the eyes of a big gator. The night was as thick, hot, and as damp as I’d ever felt it and I navigated the tall grass, cattails, and murky water with the skill of someone who’d been doing it all her life. My worn T-shirt quickly soaked through and stuck to my body. The song of chirping crickets and croaking bullfrogs was accompanied by occasional howls and grunts, the night melody of the bayou. It would have been peaceful if not for the deadly predators that awaited those foolish enough to be out at after dark.
The swamp was beautiful at times, with its thick cypress trees and hanging moss, it’s lush presence that took you back to another time. No matter how many Walmarts and Applebees sprung up in other parts of the world, out in the bayou, you felt like you’d been transported back to prehistoric times.
My daddy had been lost in a swamp not far from the one I was navigating. A drunk and a hapless fool, he’d gone out in a drunken stupor to kill a gator. In his brilliant, inebriated state, he’d decided that a pair of gator skin boots would bring him the good luck that always seemed just beyond his grasp. His boat had been found a few days later, nothing in it but some crushed beer cans and enough blood to convince the sheriff, and everyone else, that he’d been the meal of the very gator he’d been trying to turn into footwear. How’s that for luck?
I shivered again as I steered the boat around a fallen log. Creepy-ass nighttime swamp. The more I thought about the boys being out there, the angrier I got. Maybe I needed to be stricter with them. That might curb these crazy stunts they pulled. Maybe I was too strict. Maybe they felt that the reins I held on them were too tight and they were rebelling. It’s not like there was a guidebook on how to raise boys for an aunt who was barely old enough to be their mother but fought tooth and nail to pull them out of the foster care system and give them a permanent home. Regardless, if they were alive and well, I was going to kill them.
From the snippets of information I’d gotten on the phone, I gathered they’d run into someone who didn’t like whatever they’d been doing. Nick had sounded blatantly scared. There was no telling who they’d run into that deep out. I knew the rumors. I’d heard the superstitious tales of rougarou and curses of voodoo queens. I didn’t believe one lick of any of those crazy superstitions, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t think there was something dangerous out in those parts. Although, my guess was it was probably something human. Like backwoods folk who preferred to stay secluded and keep to themselves. People best left alone. Maybe they were even inbred, or like those guys in the movie, Deliverance. Yeah, that was my guess.
My worry made it feel like a lifetime to get past Bulcon Bay and then another lifetime to continue on as far as Nick had told me to go. Rustling of leaves and branches overhead in the canopy of trees jangled my already thinly stretched nerves. Then there was the worst—the abrupt plunk and splash. Something that was nearby, something unseen, had just entered the water. Probably a gator. Maybe a turtle or a snake, but probably a gator.
I’d never been this far. No one came out this far. A turn through an arch made by the root system of a very old, very dead tree marked my last leg of the trip.
The light on Jude’s boat cut a path through a narrow channel, surrounded on both sides by looming cypresses. Massive roots jutted out, mute warnings of what peril lay ahead. Then, abruptly, the path opened to the mouth of a small lake.
Up ahead through the mist, I could just make out a large silhouette taking up the night sky like some sort of—was that a castle? The closer I got to the immense
structure, the more I was half certain it was a castle. Some sort of modern castle, with sleek stone walls and lots of glass that didn’t offer a view of the inside of the place. Okay, so maybe these weren’t backwoods inbred folk.
My boat was there, tied to a small dock at the head of the expanse of swamp. I steered up next to it and tied Jude’s boat next to mine then climbed onto the dock. A stone path led to what looked like a patio. A castle with a patio? For some reason, maybe my jangled nerves, that seemed funny to me and I let out a little snort.
My humor was short lived. On the patio, an ottoman was knocked over on its side, reminding me of how scared Nick had sounded. Whoever had them might even have roughed them up for trespassing. I pounded on the large metal door. Hard. Well, it was huge and the size, along with the fact that it was made of galvanized steel, seemed to warrant a hard pounding. Plus, my boys were in there somewhere, possibly hurt, certainly scared. I knocked harder. My knuckles ached, but I kept knocking.
Finally, the door opened and on the other side loomed the largest, most muscular, well-built, handsomest man I’d ever seen. Oh, lordy, he was not inbred. Not at all. No, siree, not at all. In some freakish turn of events, my body reacted to him, heating instantly, and I practically drooled as I gaped at him. Every delicious inch of him.
I forced myself to pull it together. I had no excuse for wasting time gawking at the sexy stranger. The man had my nephews somewhere in the place. I pushed past him. The light brush of my bare forearm against his sucked the breath right out of my body. Shivers. Delicious shivers. What the holy hell was wrong with me?
“Nick! Casey!” My voice shook, quivering with emotion. I bit my lip and looked around. The immense house felt even larger on the inside because of all the open space. The ceilings were at least three stories high. More smooth stone and modern design. The windows were one-way glass and offered what must have been, in the daylight, an amazing view of the surrounding wetland.
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