Deacon zapped the biker from behind with his stun gun. Zzzt!
“Get off them,” Rashad yelled.
That’s why Rashad was his ace. Rashad was taking out the other biker with a bat in his hand. Glad he had that in his backseat from the company baseball game!
The biker whipped around. Did he have fangs? What the hell?
Deacon’s eyes grew wide when the big white man grabbed him by the throat.
Zzzt! Deacon zapped him again.
Damn! This dude is on drugs.
Deacon’s feet dangled from the ground, but he swung his legs, kicking the man, using his weight to knock the creature off balance.
Deacon gulped a deep breath once his neck was released.
He rammed the titan into the car. Crash!
Meanwhile, the brother in the suit kept whaling on the car. He cracked the woman’s window more. She screamed.
Deacon couldn’t let these jokers win.
The big white man was a rabid dog. Deacon realized he was going to have to take the man down—hard.
Rashad shouted at him. “D, take this.”
Rashad threw him a baseball bat. Deacon caught it and swung twice like he was in the batting cage.
Thwack! Thunk!
The man trudged forward, unfazed. Shit!
Deacon wished for a second bat or maybe a sword would be better. An image of a Viking sword blazed inside his mind, but he kept fighting with the bat.
Thunk! He hit the giant in the stomach.
The beast advanced like a Terminator, slinging Deacon across the pavement.
Dude’s mouth drooled down the front of his spiked vest, but Deacon kept swinging the bat from the ground.
Thwack!
Things got nastier. Thunk! Thunk! Thwack!
The zombie wrenched the bat away and tossed it across the yard.
Deacon rolled over, losing his footing, but finally skidding across the asphalt as the biker tried to stomp him. Deacon bent backward, limber as a black-belt fighter. He punched, kicked with bad intentions, hitting all the pressure points until the biker went down, crumbling like a defeated titan.
Zzt! Zzt! Zzt!
Deacon zapped him again and again and again until the dude stopped moving. Deacon wiped blood from his lips and raced toward to the car. He hadn’t realized how far he’d gone.
The brother in the suit yelled, “Payback, bitch!”
The window crackled, shattering. The dog bit the man’s arm.
But that wasn’t enough.
“Corbin will kill you!” The man reached into the SUV, trying to get to the woman inside.
Brother-man was nuts, but when he noticed Rashad finishing up with the one biker and Deacon had taken down the other one, he took off running in the other direction toward his Lexus.
Deacon picked up the discarded bat and raced toward the Lexus, ready to do damage, but the brother got away.
From his open window he screamed, lifting his bloodied arm, “I can’t get what you owe me, but Corbin will get you back, bitch. Just you wait!”
Deacon memorized the license plate. He turned toward the broken and battered SUV. His heart hammered. He took short steps, glass crunching beneath his boots. His shoulders tensed. His nerves raw. He had to know who was in there. He had to know if it was Shania.
As the door swung open, he lost his voice. Her beautiful brown eyes filled with tears. The world stopped. He stepped forward. In one motion she was in his arms, the warmth becoming an unbearable tenderness. His hands explored the hollows of her back as he breathed in her scent. Gently rocking her back and forth, he felt her bury her face against the muscles in his chest. He kissed the side of her forehead as they relaxed into the long-lost hug.
He whispered into her hair, “Don’t ever leave me again!”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Shania
Shania pushed the door open and was about to say “thank you” until she realized it was Deacon. She fell into his arms. Her entire body collapsed inside of his. He was warm, soft, and comfortable. Home.
The world stopped around them under tender caresses. She had been weak and frail. She couldn’t believe she had survived the death of her beloved grandmother and having to flee from Detroit. Her mind somersaulted. It didn’t make sense for Deacon to be here, in the podunk town on the outskirts of Georgia.
How did he get here? How did he find her? So many odd events the last few days she let it go. Shania refused to use words. She used feelings. Her emotions would let this man know how much she missed being in his presence…in his care…in his safety. Soul mate.
The moment of reconnection slowed but didn’t stop the clock. Once the deep hug ended, Shania found her conscious mind back in control. Waiting to make everything rational. She fidgeted, fixing her hair and clothes. In her peripheral vision, Deacon remained close after the Georgia sheriff disconnected them.
A tall black FBI agent introduced himself as Moss.
Shania allowed the worry to show on her face. The FBI?
Agent Moss seemed to intuit her question. “Sometimes in cases such as yours, the sheriff’s department calls the local FBI to help support them—to get to the bottom of what has occurred.” He radiated a powerful silver aura. Agent Moss gently motioned her to the side.
He studied her in a patient way. Her shoulders relaxed. He appeared nice enough. She swallowed and nodded. He certainly seemed concerned, but Moss hit her with a barrage of questions.
What was she doing in Georgia? What time did she pull in? Did she know the three assailants?
Question after question bombarded her and Lydia. Painfully, she weathered all the questions, but as she told her truthful tale, she folded Lydia in her arms. She only became unnerved when the technicians examined her battered SUV. She released Lydia. Still keeping the girl near. She didn’t want them touching her things. She didn’t want them anywhere near her stuff, especially her grandmother’s box. The technician pulled the box from the SUV and tried to carry it away.
Shania made a panicked whimper. “Please, that’s a family heirloom. Don’t take it.”
Time crawled as the investigating officer went to her side. “Ma’am, we’ve got to examine the scene.”
“I’m sorry.” Tears streamed. “My grandmother recently passed and that was her parting gift to me.”
The box called to her.
Her conscious mind said, “Not now, don’t come now.”
But her body responded, turning her vision green.
Danger! a woman’s voice cried.
A gold light streamed around the seams of the box, and the lock rattled in warning.
Shania studied the people around her. No one could see it except Lydia.
“I see it too, Mama,” she whispered.
A flooding sensation drowned her mind. The box tried to connect with her, but she needed to touch it. She needed something. She focused on Deacon. His face showed concern.
“Can she keep the box?” he asked gently.
Shania’s psyche transported to another time and place with Deacon. His face came into full view. He kissed her lovingly. He caressed her, and she focused on the key around his neck. Get the key!
Her attention refocused on this time and place. She examined his neck. No necklace. She breathed disappointment.
Drums beat wildly. Green and gold lit up the area. The little Adinkra symbols danced on everything in the gas station except where people were bathed in black and red. They glowed differently.
The box thumped.
Shania’s heart beat. She needed to hold the box in her arms, but if she touched it, would she pass out? Would the dreams take her into another realm?
The box seemed to allow Shania to see things that other’s could not. Shania regarded Agent Mossꞌs aura in more detail now. Different than everyone else. Silver, gold, and indigo. She sensed he worked on the side of good, but there was a thin black line of separation. Agent Moss had a split psyche. Shania noted his demeanor. He did take pity on her.
He signaled the tech to bring the box over.
The wood glistened in broad daylight. Shania lost what to do or say. Once the box touched her skin, it calmed. Nothing creepy happened, but she felt odd.
“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Her voice was almost a whisper. The wave of anxiety passed. She could think again. She clutched her box in one arm and pulled Lydia closer toward her in the other while she regarded Deacon.
The three of them…together…priceless.
“Ma’am, we need to take you down to the station for questioning.”
Shania didn’t want to go with them. Plus. this officer, a black woman, had a shadowy charcoal aura with red edges. The woman wore fishnet stockings and high heels. What kind of uniform was that?
Wrong! Shania’s memories sloshed around. She couldn’t put her finger on it. The woman smiled, but Shania wasn’t buying it. This sister smelled of old incense used to cover up death. Animal sacrifice, maybe?
Thor snarled.
“Whoa, boy.” The woman tried to touch Thor, but he moved back, baring his teeth. He growled and paced between her and Lydia as a protector.
“Calm down.” Lydia’s tiny voice seemed frightened, but she stroked Thor’s mane in comfort.
“Can we answer questions here?” Shania blurted. “I’m exhausted and was on my way to Atlanta to...” She searched for Deacon. “Meet with my girlfriend. She’s probably worried sick about us.”
“Yes, ma’am, I understand, but we have a few more questions to ask. It’ll only take a minute.”
Shania took short cleansing breaths and rubbed her tense neck. She glanced at Deacon—she was safe now. No reason to be fearful. She didn’t understand why, but she didn’t like it as the woman led her to her sheriff’s car.
Shania studied the woman. The female sheriff seemed kind, but her stomach churned. Didn’t feel right. She turned, and Deacon smiled, reassuring. He mouthed not to worry. He seemed comfortable at the scene, like he belonged, like a cop.
Shania bent down and got into the front seat. Lydia and Thor sat in the back. The female sheriff got in and started the car. Thor barked like crazy, but he couldn’t get close to the woman because of the partition between them. Shania’s box warmed on her lap. It burned.
Call forth your war swords! the woman warrior cried.
The female sheriff drove. Shania examined her closer, peering at the woman’s wrist. A red and black tattoo.
This woman is not right! The female sheriff cackled. Like a witch?
They turned down country roads. Nothing but red dirt and trees. The car rolled to a slow stop.
“Why are we stopping?” Shania blurted.
The woman didn’t answer.
Shania’s vision turned green, and the Adinkra symbols assaulted the inside of the car.
“No,” she stammered. “We don’t want to go. We’ll answer your questions back at the gas station. Take us back!”
Shania tried to open the car door, but the doors locked internally. She couldn’t get out.
“Get out, Lydia!” Shania turned, screaming.
Little Lydia’s eyes clouded, but her daughter was exhausted.
The woman smiled grimly, blowing white powder from her hands, filling the entire vehicle.
“You’ll go where I tell you!” she cackled again.
Thor bashed the metal partition between them. Lydia tried to get out but was trapped too. White powder settled within the vehicle. Shania wanted to take the box and bash the woman in her face, but it was too late. The box sent her another lost memory of fetish priestesses who served a God named Eshu. It was their goal to destroy the priestesses of Mawu and usher chaos.
Shania yelled for Lydia and Thor to run. Her world went dark.
Shania’s body twitched. The box hummed. Her stomach tossed and turned along with the psychedelic images in front of her eyes. The world became elongated. The woman’s lips moved, and her body did what the woman told her.
Shania shook uncontrollably, and her mind blanked again.
The warrior cried, “Rise up! Become who you were meant to be!”
A single Adinkra symbol, Fawohudie, bobbed in front of her eyes. Two letter “C’s” facing opposite of one another. How did she recognize that symbol?
Freedom, liberty. Words rolled in her mind over and over.
In her heightened drugged state, she shakily traced the symbol in the air with her fingers.
Whoosh!
Air returned to her lungs. She bent over, gulping as if she had survived drowning.
Shania’s chest burned. She scanned the inside of the police vehicle. The female sheriff was gone. She caught her breath. Lydia was passed out in the back. She fixated on the road outside the car.
They’d killed Thor!
His broken body lay on the side of the road as if he were roadkill.
Shania choked… gasping... trembling.... holding tears. She sagged against the door, hyperventilating. The anger welled in the pit of her belly. She flung away tears. She heard muffled voices and noticed the woman talking to a man. She tried to listen, but the windows were closed. The woman stepped back.
Oh my God! Road-rage brother!
Shania’s pulse sped. Her adrenaline kicked in. She refused to allow them to take her and Lydia. In that moment, she knew if she wanted her and her daughter to survive, then she had to become a warrior and fight. No matter how weak and frail she felt. Somehow she must dig deep within herself to be what she’d never been. To become strong.
Shania whipped around, searching the vehicle for a weapon. What could she use to fight? The box rattled, calming upon her touch. Darkness reared its head within her belly, slithering and winding, choking away her courage. She squeaked, then directed her attention to her child; she would do what it took to save her baby girl. She continued to search. The heavy flashlight rolled from underneath the seat. Shania gripped it in her strong hand.
“Nanabaa, I need your strength!” she pleaded. “Help me!”
The female sheriff returned to the car. Shania closed her eyes and pretended she was drugged.
The woman got in, slamming the door. “Still sleeping. No matter, Corbin has plans for you, and Papa has a plan for your daughter. Eshu must return.”
The female sheriff cranked the car, and Shania lifted the flashlight, bashing the woman on the side of her face, but the blow didn’t cause much damage, as if the woman were protected by magic.
The woman laughed. “Oh, you wanna fight? How cute...”
“We’re not going anywhere with you,” she shrieked.
The female sheriff lunged. Perfectly manicured fingernails swung, attempting to slap Shania’s face. Shania blocked her blows. Shania shifted and turned, lifting her legs and kicking as hard as she could.
“You can’t have my daughter!” Shania’s vision turned green as she hit the woman with strength she didn’t know she had, breaking through the woman’s magical protection.
The woman stopped moving, but before Shania could push the woman out of the way, the car door swung open and road-rage brother dragged her out, spilling her box and flashlight onto the road. Rocks, rubble, and debris scraped underneath her body. Shania lie face up with her back on the ground.
Road-rage brother’s body morphed. His hands turned to claws as he bent down, grabbing her by the throat, choking her. Shania punched and kicked. Her hands burned. She needed the hilt of a sword. She struggled, but kept fighting. He squeezed and squeezed. Gasping for air, splotchy stars filled her eyes as she almost passed out. The female sheriff reappeared, disheveled, dosing her with another shot of white powder.
Shania refused to go down. Her hands burst with green. She punched the hellish man in his face.
Wham!
His grip loosened, releasing her. Shania rolled, reclaiming the flashlight and stood, balancing her weight. Zombie brother reached, grabbing her shoulders. Shania made a quick move, breaking his hold, freeing her strong hand.
Whack!
She landed a blow to hi
s jaw.
She raised the flashlight to bash him again, but when she stepped back to rebalance, she tripped over Thor’s body, sliding, losing her footing. She tumbled down a small ravine, unable to move.
Sirens blared in the background. Were they coming to help?
Before losing consciousness, she heard, Forget her. Papa Amin needs the girl for the twin soul. Corbin can pick up his bitch later.
Shania awoke in the sheriff’s vehicle with a splitting headache, her forehead bandaged. Deacon cradled her. Everything ached. Her head, her eyes, her body. Sore. The female sheriff was gone with Lydia. Thor was dead. Her heart was crushed.
They’d killed her dog and taken her child. Her mind numbed. She couldn’t stop them. She seized, wailing.
Deacon consoled her. “I’m so sorry.”
Before she knew it, the door swung open, and she was assaulted with questions from Agent Moss.
Where had she been? What happened to Lydia?
Shania didn’t know what to say or do. This couldn’t be happening. How had they taken her child? How had they gotten her precious baby away from her? She was beyond words.
A technician whispered to Moss. “Sir, the Amber Alert is in effect.”
All of the cell phones chimed “Amber Alert.”
Shania threw up.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Mawu and Iniko
Sounds rushed around Mawu as if she were walking in a wind tunnel at an unreachable speed. Shimmering lights and giant stars glowed, but she was well past fascination with the colorful energy flow of the astral plane; the cosmic veil connecting the three universes. Mawu became restless. Events unfolded the way she’d seen in her dream, but outcomes were different. Her decision to leave her body and remain in the dreamscape proved to be in error.
Her heart sickened and saddened.
“Iniko will be our demise,” Nana Buluku said softly. She rarely showed her form to Mawu lately. The Great Mother’s strength waned. Nana Buluku exacted positive waves and was the caretaker of this cluster of parallel universes, maintaining balance. But once two of the three universes turned negative, Nana Buluku entered sparingly. Now the Guhruhi was close to controlling the last universe, and collision with the others was inevitable.
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