Obfuscate

by Killion Slade

  Blaize gestured for her to come. He took the hand of his sister as soon as her tentative fingers reached him. He looked up at his father, Draconis, and a sour taste stained his lips. It had been five years since he’d last spoken to his sister, and much longer with his father. Blaize’s body shook, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip as he suffered through the pain.

  He mind-messaged them both with such lackluster, they could barely decipher his words.

  Kalina, Father—do not address me as Blaize in front of these people. They only know me as Tony Briggs. This is a different identity I wear around them.

  Kalina nodded and spoke back to him with her mind. I will honor your request. What can I do for you, my brother? You have been injured in a mortal form?

  Blaize’s back arched and then convulsed back into a cradling position. Yes. Someone put a hit out on me. Somebody set a trap for us. They used weapons to try and kill us all.

  Blaize’s father pressed his lips tightly together. Well, what do you expect from dzee line of thug work you’ve created? He tilted his chin down at his son and frowned.

  Kalina waved a hand at her father in dismissal. Someone put a hit on you? Where have you been?

  Draconis held up a handkerchief to his nose to quiet the qualm of disinfectant and decomposing flesh. Son, what have you been doing? What do you mean there was a trap? Who did this to you?

  Briggs messaged again. We went to an island, North Sentinel—east of the Andamans. The Rakshasa were holding my girlfriend prisoner there. Amicula Darkrose, the niece to the Vampyre Queen Civetateo, stole my Dakota. His mind message voice broke into a sob even though his face merely showed a single tear falling down his cheek. I went to rescue her, and they … and they blew her up.

  Both Kalina and Draconis returned concerned furrowed brows toward Blaize. Kalina slicked back her baby brother’s hair.

  Draconis turned to his daughter and sent a private mind-message chat only to her. Did you know about this? Why wasn’t I told? How in the hell did your brother get caught up in this mess? How in the world was he dating one of the O’Cuinn sisters?

  Kalina responded to her father in the private chat message between them. How the hell am I supposed to know? Last I heard, just before Thanksgiving, Blaize was in New Orleans putting the screws to some ghoulies who were stealing dead bodies out of the morgue. That’s nowhere near where Ludovic had the breeding den in Orlando.

  Draconis laid a gentle hand on his son’s head. Blaize, are you saying this is the work of Vampyre? Who is this Dakota? Why didn’t you ask for my help? I could have provided you with the protection needed, and you never would have endangered you or your friends.

  Briggs looked up at his father. Color drained from his face with each thought. It’s not like I left on the best of terms, but I’ve been sliced open with a dragon scythe. The blade has drained my adrenaline and I cannot shift. I fear this wound will kill me in this mortal form. And I need to live. I need to find the bastard who stole my Dakota and kill him with his own blade!

  Draconis restlessly bunched the handkerchief in a wad and then released it again. Kalina turned to look at the group of people in the room and made eye contact with a woman and a couple of men. A woman with wavy, black hair greeted them.

  “Hi, I’m Cheyenne O’Cuinn, a friend of Briggs.” Cheyenne gestured toward the others in the room. “This is Torchy, Khaldon, Harris, and Tiffany.”

  Both Draconis and Kalina stiffened and instantly recognized Cheyenne as Dakota’s older sister. They nodded in a curtly fashion. Draconis’ attention was drawn to the man sitting beside her. Khaldon Seters. They stared at one another with an intense, heated radiation. Khaldon did not break eye contact.

  Blaize cried out as he tried to adjust his position. Draconis turned his attention back to his son without acknowledging anyone else in the room.

  Draconis spoke out loud. “No need to worry, my son. I ’ave spoken with Dr. Rattanokosin and we both feel dzee best course of action is dzee transfer of adrenaline. We’ll take you ’ome to recover and you can tell us everything dzen. You need to rest now.”

  Across the room, Kalina and Draconis could hear a young girl talk. “There wasn’t anyone else in the cave with us, but as they took that other girl away, I heard talking about them doing blood experiments on people. Something about making them into an army, but I could never hear what kind of army or what they were for.”

  Draconis tried to maintain a modicum of calm and spoke again on the private mind-messaging channel with his daughter. You need to kill the girl—Tiffany. She knows too much. She will blow dzee cover on dze blood trials. She will expose who kidnapped ’er and reveal dzee entire operation. You must kill dzis girl tonight. Cheyenne is well aware of the breeder dens. We cannot afford for anything more to go wrong.

  Kalina answered him back. But, Baba-ji, kill the girl? She is still useful. I can arrange to have her extrication this evening. Her transformation is not far off. We can take her and not waste any more time for the queen.

  Draconis glared at her for arguing his request. If you don’t kill her, she will recognize you from dzee blood orchard and your brother will learn dzee truth.

  Tiffany asked another question. Both Draconis and Kalina turned toward one another to listen covertly to the answer. “Are you going back for the others?”

  Draconis stepped away from his son’s bed and pulled his daughter to the side. He mind-messaged her privately once again. I will leave and make dzee arrangements for Blaize’s recovery. You need to kill Tiffany tonight! We can ’arvest more ’umans another day.”

  Draconis re-approached his son and gingerly touched his head, speaking in a kind, fatherly tone. “Je suis désolé de ce qui vous est arrivé. Je vais trouver le démon qui vous a fait du mal. Je dois préparer un endroit sûr pour vous de récupérer. Je t'aime, mon fils. (I'm sorry this has happened to you. I will find the fiend who has hurt you. I must prepare a safe place for you to recover. I love you, my son.)” He bent and kissed his son’s forehead.

  Blaize’s pale and sickly face turned to look up at his father. His heart was thankful, but his mind dreaded the payback he would have to render for his father’s assistance if the transfer of adrenaline was a success. He watched as his father lovingly hugged his daughter goodbye. It was then he noticed his father staring toward Khaldon.

  Draconis intently studied Khaldon as though he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to speak to the man or not. Khaldon shook his head, and Draconis nodded and then walked away.

  Chapter Eight

  Phuket Hospital - Thailand

  Cheyenne O’Cuinn

  “What’s going on between you and Briggs’ father?” I whispered to Khaldon. “Do you know him from somewhere?”

  Khaldon pressed his lips together tight and pulled me close to his face. I noticed he placed my body between himself and Briggs. “Let’s just say I now understand why Briggs is so connected. If Draconis is his father, then—”

  The EKG machine strapped onto Briggs’ chest alarmed and a missed beat.

  Dr. Rattanakosin said, “He isn’t long for this world.”

  Without another thought, Torchy ripped off his shirt and lay on the bed next to Briggs. I held my arms tightly around myself, acknowledging the sacrifice Torchy was making for a man, a fellow dragon, whom he barely knew. I prayed no one else died tonight because of this failed rescue mission.

  Khaldon reached for my hand, and warmth caressed my nerves.

  “Mr. Gravenor, we’re ready to take the adrenaline now,” Dr. Rattanakosin said. “This won’t hurt much, but if you tense up your abdomen muscles, it will burn as though you are being branded. Hold as still as you can. Try to relax.”

  “Easier said than done, knowing that yer gettin’ ready to jam that needle into me gullet.”

  The doctor smiled down at Torchy and acknowledged the sentiment.

  “I understand. I’ll tell you exactly what I’m doing the entire time. I’m going to press just below your liver to gain ac
cess into your energy vortex.”

  Briggs reached out toward Torchy and touched his arm. His eyes weeped thankfulness with a glint of a prayer.

  Torchy gave him a wry half-smile. “I sure as hell pray my essence doesn’t make you go crazy.”

  “Oui. Can’t get any crazier than I already am, my man.” Briggs gave Torchy a gentle fist bump and then turned his head. He took a deep breath and tried to relax. “Bonne santé, Doc.”

  Dr. Rattanakosin picked up a needle the size of Alaska.

  Briggs’ eyes opened wide and he swallowed hard. He looked at Torchy once again, and whispered a merci to Torchy as the needle inserted deep into his belly.

  I prayed both of them would be all right.

  Torchy stayed stoic as a rock and didn’t flinch. He held his breath as we watched a golden, almost white, fluid being sucked into the needle’s syringe. The nurse prepared the gash on Briggs’ abdomen and exposed the dismal brown, sickly light dying within him.

  Dr. Rattanakosin changed the needle head on the syringe and moved over to Briggs. He inserted the golden adrenaline deep into the abdomen of the man who had tried, in vain, to rescue my sister.

  I strained my neck to observe the procedure as Briggs gasped out loud and passed out.

  His EKG blipped and flat-lined. The room fell silent like in the suspended moments before a wine glass shatters into a million shards against a marble floor.

  I held my breath to listen closer. Not another heartbeat returned.

  I cried out, “No! Please, no. Hang on, Briggs!”

  Kalina ran to her brother with tears streaming. She whispered into his ear in a language I’d never heard before. She wiped the tears from her face, looked me dead in the eyes and then centered herself. She pulled her hands together in front of her face and then over her heart, chanting her incantation.

  Kalina held her hands over Briggs’ bleeding wound and spoke aloud. The tattoos on her arms moved like they’d come alive. She continued to chant in her native tongue. I couldn’t understand any of it except for one word.

  Was she calling on the blood goddess of birth and death, Kali, for help?

  This can’t be good.

  Kalina’s chanting escalated into a harsh, full-throated bleating as an indigo geometric shape emerged from Kalina’s hands and formed a container vessel. I watched as she seemingly sucked the death out of Briggs and contained it.

  Most everyone gave her space, moving several feet away, but I wanted to know what she was doing. The golden light from within Briggs amplified and shot out in a spectrum of healing light from inside his abdomen.

  The EKG monitor fluttered back to life.

  A stable, rhythmic beat pulsed green in steady pings, echoing his heart rate.

  The flesh within his belly pinked up again.

  For the first time throughout the tense procedure, I grew conscious of my breathing once again. Had I been holding my breath the entire time?

  Dr. Rattanakosin said, “Okay, I think that will be good for the first dose.”

  “First dose?” Khaldon asked. “How many will he need? Is that going to happen every time?”

  The doctor responded, “Oh no. Now that we have his heart started once again, thanks to his half-sister, we can proceed without any further snarls.”

  Khaldon and I looked at one another, both seemingly to have the same questions run through our minds.

  Half-sister? Snarls?

  I placed my fists on my hips. “You think Briggs losing his heartbeat was a “snarl” to your procedure?”

  Dr. Rattanakosin adjusted his glasses and tugged down on his white doctor’s coat. “Yes, it was a deviation from standard textbook procedures, but it will most likely take a series of at least three of these adrenaline donations to jump-start his energy vortex.”

  I stared at the little beads of sweat forming at his hairline. “You’ve never done this before have you? Textbook procedures?” My cheeks reddened as heat plumed up out of my shirt. A nurse stood by with a syringe and stared hard at me, almost waiting for an excuse to put me back down into a drug-induced haze.

  Khaldon touched me lightly on the shoulder. I knew I needed to stand down or I might get strapped to a bed again. I would be of no use to anyone then.

  “How long will this take?” Harris stood up, his lips still swollen from the wolfsbane reaction. “How will this affect Torchy?”

  Dr. Rattanakosin cleared his throat, seemingly tired of all the questions. “The first couple of shots are needed just for Mr. Briggs to heal his human form. The third one will help him with the strength he’ll need to transform into a dragon once again. He can then complete the healing and be fine in due time, but neither one of them will be more than a shadow of their former selves for a while.” The doctor shot me a sideways glance. “If everything goes well and there are no more complications, we can expect to see significant improvements for Mr. Briggs within a few hours.”

  Kalina now seemed quite tired herself and took a stance behind Tiffany’s chair. Tiffany tensed up as Kalina sat behind her. Even though I was thankful Kalina most likely just saved Briggs’ life, I was still unsure of what she was or how she was able to conjure up the juju. Nobody lightly called down the goddess Kali like that.

  Kalina. Kali. Could she be a descendant?

  I walked over and stood close to Torchy’s head. “Won’t Torchy be able to shift into dragon form and heal himself just like Briggs? Why does it take so long for him to recover?”

  Torchy reached for my hand. “It’s all right, lassie. I’ll be at home with Sheridan and the bairns soon. I willna have a need to shift for a long time. It takes years to build dragon adrenaline, ya ken? What I’m giving Briggs will only be the seed of what he’ll need to rebuild in his own system. Neither of us willna be flying for a few weeks. I’m afraid it’s going to be airplanes for a while.”

  Dr. Rattanakosin prepared a new syringe and drew another dose of the golden adrenaline from Torchy, then injected it into Briggs.

  Torchy’s face grew weary and his mouth relaxed. Even though I was worried, I managed to conjure a confident smile. I stroked my fingers through his coppery spikes. “You’re not alone Torch. We’re here with you. Nothing is going to keep us away, you hear me?”

  He smiled a weakened half-smile. “Oh, aye.” He fell off to what seemed to be a peaceful sleep.

  The nurse shooed me out of the way so she could insert an IV into his arm. She said, “We don’t know how long he’ll be out, but we’ll need to keep fluids in him.”

  I nodded and stepped farther out of the way. Khaldon leaned on the side of Briggs’ bed and reached for a chair to sit. Both dragons were out cold. We watched as Dr. Rattanakosin took one last dosage from Torchy and gave it to Briggs. Finally, despite our injuries, it seemed we were all going to live.

  I decided to take a moment to sit and relax, to finally catch my breath, maybe even find a cool shower and some clean clothes, when Tiffany cried out.

  I stared at several purplish colors swimming inside of Tiffany’s IV bottle and tube line. In an instant, the color swirls escaped down the tube, through the needle, and squirmed into her arm.

  Tiffany cried out again and slapped her forearm. “Ouch! It hurts! Get it out of me!” She pulled the IV needle out of her arm.

  As fast as she stood up, she lost her balance and fell over on top of me. I tried to help her stand, but within seconds, Tiffany bubbled purple mucus from her mouth and nose. She held her hands up to her throat to indicate she couldn’t breathe.

  “Doctor, she’s choking!” Harris grabbed her from my arms. He tried to perform what looked like the Heimlich maneuver on her. He squeezed his hands so tight around her waist that his own IV and blood line were wrenched from his arms. His hands burst open from his swollen injuries, squirting yellow pus and goo.

  Tiffany gasped for breath while she slid out of his arms and down to the floor. She opened her mouth mimicking a fish pulled out of the water desperately trying to breathe, her eyes wildly v
acant as she thrashed at her neck, struggling to take in oxygen.

  She’s drowning!

  “I saw something purple flow into her arm from the IV. What was it?” I cried out to everyone.

  Additional hospital personnel ran into our emergency area, picked Tiffany up, and took her to the bed beside Torchy.

  Kalina stood back over by Briggs’ bed and observed with perceived nonchalance about the whole situation. She picked at her fingernails.

  Khaldon stood back with me as we watched the hospital staff suck the suffocating mess out of Tiffany’s throat and nasal passages.

  Nothing was working.

  Dr. Rattanakosin ordered, “Get me a trach kit, stat!”

  Within moments, Tiffany was breathing through a tube in her throat while they continued to draw out the purplish gray ooze.

  The doctor murmured, “What the—”

  I retched into my mouth as the slimy mucus thickened and puddled out of her—not only from her nostrils—but her ears and eyes as well. Her skull warped and contorted like a baby were struggling to get out. Within moments, Tiffany’s eyes dissolved and her head imploded in on itself. No amount of oxygen through the trach tube was going to save her life.

  In an instant, she was dead.

  Chapter Nine

  "You killed her!” Helpless to keep my hand from shaking, I pointed toward Kalina. “There was a purple snake or something in Tiffany’s IV tube. You poisoned her—I know you murdered her! You took that poison out of Briggs and gave it to Tiffany.”

  Kalina stared at me as if I had just spat on her mother.

  Khaldon touched my shoulder and turned me to look at him. His lips were hard. His forehead creased and eyes narrowed. “Blimey, Cheyenne, I understand you’re upset, but you can’t accuse her like that. There’s no telling what parasite Tiffany may have picked up in that place.”