by Kim Schubert
“Anna, she has the same demanding authority that gets obeyed or people get killed.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Certainly Olivia pissed you off at first?” Hudson asked.
Logan thought back.
“She’s always been a handful,” he admitted.
Logan would never forget Olivia, half dead on his couch, ready to take down the Puppet Master when Steven had been foolish enough to challenge Logan in his home.
She had already give up so much to find him and end his killings. Blake had drained her within inches of her life. But even that didn’t stop the predator inside of her from rising to the challenge of killing the bastard.
His lion appreciated that and pressed dangerously close to the surface. He commanded Olivia to run and she did taking Lorraine and hiding in his room.
It was a terrible decision for her. In his territory with her scent lingering on the air, it only pushed his lion closer to the surface, his fiancée forgotten for the warrior with sorrow in her eyes.
He stalked closer to her, needing to touch her, needing to claim her. He doubted Olivia knew how lucky she was that Lorraine picked the moment when he dropped his mouth to her neck in inhale deeply, to fling open the bathroom door and run to him.
“Boss, you hear me?” Tommy’s voice broke through Logan’s memory, coming over the speaker system of the Jeep.
“How did you—wait, no, actually I don’t want to know,” Logan amended. “No, I didn’t hear you.”
“I said there has still been no activity at the site Hudson is driving to. Hopefully, they left a clue behind of where they went,” Tommy informed him.
“Tommy, did you meet Anna?” Logan asked.
Tommy went silent. “Yeah,” he answered cautiously.
“What did you think about her?”
Tommy sighed. “She’s smart, cunning, and expects to be obeyed. Where Olie granted us slack, she demands perfection. It’s going to be a rough time until Olie wakes up.”
“Did you hear Anna’s theory on it?” Logan asked.
“Yeah.”
“You don’t believe it?”
“I have a hard time accepting intel from a person I just met on a subject as important as Olie.”
Hudson whistled. “How old are you again, little man?”
“Old enough to know your porn collection is disturbing,” Tommy retorted.
“What the fuck?” Hudson hissed, before turning to Logan. “He didn’t really?”
Logan laughed, surprising himself. “Oh yeah, he really did. There are no secrets to be kept digitally from Tommy.”
…
The bottom of the jungle was thick black mud; not brown, but soul-sucking black, absorbing the light and warmth. My father continued to glide along, while Doyle and I were pulled into the sticky mess.
I gripped the side of a tree at one particularly deep trench that was threatening to take my shoe with it. I ripped it free with a grunt.
“Oh look, the sun is setting,” I observed, pulling myself up on a low hanging branch to breathe. My feet were heavily laden with the disgusting fucking mud.
Doyle rested against another tree, snorting, “You’ve said that before.”
I groaned, “Seriously, it really is setting.” I pointed as the yellow light shifted into an auburn glow.
“Indeed it is,” The Magician stated. He clapped his hands and the oncoming night exploded with color in brilliant hues.
“Whoa,” I muttered, looking down at the mud. Yeah, it was still black. The tree I was sitting on was veined, neon yellow and green running under its surface. I looked over to Doyle as pink and purple orbs glided around his head. He huffed out a breath, stirring the orbs.
My gaze shifted to my father and I had to blink several times. Small blue pinpoints of light surrounded him, lifting him off his feet and wrapping around his body.
“That’s cool,” I whispered.
“You have no magic,” Doyle commented, looking inquisitively at me.
“That’s what we are seeing?” I asked, looking down at my own orb-less body.
Doyle nodded, looking over to my father. “She needs her magic.”
“I know,” my father agreed. “But until we get her back to her body, that can’t happen.”
Doyle grunted. I had a feeling this wasn’t the first time they’d had this disagreement.
“So now that we can see the glowing orbs, what next?” I asked.
“Now we should be able to see the shadow lark,” The Magician stated, turning around, or rather floating as his blue orbs turned him.
I huffed out a breath, looking across at the stream. “Wow,” escaped my lips. The movement of the water, combined with the multitude of shades of blue, was peaceful, calm and refreshing. Painfully unlike the red desert above and the black shit mud below.
“In its simplest form, magic is just energy; magic users have the ability to manipulate said energy,” my father instructed.
I nodded, “Good to know.”
“The shadow lark is pure energy, which is why it can only be been seen at sunset with magic present. But I don’t see it.”
“It appears it has found us,” Doyle commented, pointing toward the stream.
I turned and saw that from the midst of the blue orbs dancing above the water, a perfectly white light had appeared. It transformed in front of my eyes into a lily. Whether it happened because that was what I expected to see or because that was the form it actually existed in, I wasn’t sure.
“Wonderful,” my father breathed. He used his magic to glide over to the lily, leaving the water perfectly unblemished. He reached down, hesitating once before reaching to pluck the plant.
His hand passed through the flower. “What in Hades?” he whispered before trying again. Again, the plant disappeared, the intensity of the white petals dimming each time. I held my breath.
“Stop,” Doyle commanded. “Only the worthy can pluck it.”
The Magician stood. “Be my guest.” With that, he glided back to the shore.
“You wanna try picking the flower?” I asked Doyle, my gaze riveted to the spot that held a piece of my freedom.
“It appears as a flower to you?” Doyle asked.
“A lily.”
“Then no, I think you are the one it wants,” Doyle answered.
I sighed, slipping off my branch. While it wasn’t comfortable, it did keep me out of the black mud of hell. I crashed down and sunk to my ankles, not bothering to lift my feet out as I slowly slurked toward the river. At the bank, I left behind the mud, the sand shifting under my feet and darkening from my muddy contribution.
I kept pushing forward, wading until the sand dropped off, swimming the rest of the distance in the crystal clear waters.
The icy touch of the water was bone cold; such a great time to go corporeal. I felt it pulling at my energy as my head dipped under the surface, sending a chill to my core.
“Beautiful,” I heard beneath the water. I pulled back up, gasping a breath.
“Be careful!” My father screamed.
I raised a hand to them behind me, hoping to convey that I was indeed alright. Then I reached forward with the hand to touch the large, trumpet-looking flower.
“Not so fast, my pretty,” a voice whispered next to me.
“No! Leave her be!” my father screamed. The panic in his voice had me groaning before I was pulled under.
I looked down at the arms wrapped in scales, holding me securely around my middle, drawing me down into the icy depths.
“You can breathe,” she whispered, her voice echoing in the water.
I grunted, not being the trusting kind. She laughed, pulling me down farther, orbs of colors flying by my head. My lungs were at capacity. I struggled against her, seeing a gold tail under my feet. Eventually, my body gave in to the raw need to breathe. I expected the water to choke me, but I inhaled sweet air. My body relaxed and the arms disappeared from around me.
I
turned, testing out my underwater swimming skills. “Mermaid?” I asked, smiling like a fool.
She nodded her purple locks, her hair flowing around her heart-shaped head perfectly. Golden scales trailed along her temple and down her throat.
“This is so cool!! The kids at home are going to be so pissed I got to meet a mermaid and they didn’t.”
She raised an eyebrow at me and I shrugged. “So what’s up?” I asked.
“You are not scared,” she commented.
I shrugged, “I got a lot going on right now. Being terrified of you seems like too much work.”
“You are unique.”
I huffed, “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
“I mean that as a compliment.”
“Thanks.”
She blinked blue eyes that matched the ever-changing blue of the river.
“You may have the power of the shadow lark on one condition: you free us as well.”
“Free you as in transport you to Earth?” I asked.
“Correct.”
“Do you feed on humans?”
“Disgusting, no.”
“Do you lure them to their deaths for fun?”
She shrugged, “Sirens do that.”
“They’re reformed. Now they seduce over beer.”
The mermaid blinked at me. “But we need men to mate with.”
“Do you kill them after you mate with them?”
“No.”
“So, trust me when I say you will have no problems finding men to mate with. In fact, we can even build you a swim up bar, although I guess the whole breathing thing is going to be an issue,” I mused.
“We can breathe air above water just as we do below.”
“Oh good, that’s easy. Wait, The Magician said when the portal opened I’d be taken to my body, and how did you know that’s what I was after, anyways?” Seriously, delayed suspicion just because she had a cool tail.
The mermaid smiled. “What else would you need the power of the shadow lark for?”
“I have no idea.”
“Neither do I.”
“Okay, so back to our original issue, my body is probably in a hospital and not near a body of water.
“The magician can open a portal again,” the mermaid confided.
“Shit, really?”
“Yes, really. Once you have our swim up bar built he can summon us through.”
“Alright, I agree, but I have conditions of my own.”
“Name them.”
“In my world, you follow my rules and if you start killing, maiming or fucking with the humans I will hunt you down and kill you. Trust me, I’m very good at my job,” I smiled.
“You are a peacekeeper between the races?” Geez, everyone was out to make me sound like a hero.
“No, I am an Executioner.”
The mermaid shrugged, “I agree.”
“How do I—“ My jaw was wired shut as pure energy or I guess magic infused every square inch of my body. I vibrated with power, my eyes rolling back in my head.
When my eyes were working again, I was lying face down in the fucking mud.
“I’d rather be tased,” I wheezed, pushing myself up.
“Here she is!” Doyle yelled. I was pulled into his hairy embrace. Too tired to fight it, my head flopped on his shoulder.
“Daughter, daughter?” My father’s panicked voice reached me.
“I’malive,” I slurred, using my muddy hands to wipe at my muddy face.
Hands moved quickly over me, checking for ailments. I heard my father’s relieved exhale.
“I thought you’d drowned, my magic couldn’t reach you.”
“Turns out, the mermaids want out, too. I agreed to open a portal for them after we get back and I build them a swim up bar.” My eyes were staying closed.
“Swim up bar?” my father questioned.
“Later, I need to sleep,” I groaned, finding my eyes not cooperating.
“At least she successfully obtained the shadow lark,” Doyle observed.
“I never dreamed she would be able to hold such raw force,” my father’s voice drifted to me.
I’d like to note that he didn’t take issue with opening the portal again.
I awoke sometime later on a dry bed of leaves to a mouthful of mud and a small fire crackling. I groaned, spitting dirt out.
“Fucking mud,” I grunted.
“How are you feeling?” my father asked.
“Like I got kicked by a horse,” I admitted, rubbing my chest with gritty hands.
“That is to be expected.”
I nodded. “You didn’t tell me that once you left here you would be able to open portals back here.” Did I need to be worried about him bringing others to my world behind my back?
“I can open many portals. It just depends on the proper ingredients. I will honor the deal you made with the mermaids.”
My eyes closed, the pressure in my head mounting, I groaned, “Thank you. Do you have somewhere I can dump this energy?”
“You can do that?” My father asked, surprised.
“Yeah, I can push pretty well.”
“Here,” a glass orb was slid into my hands. Behind my closed lids, I saw the brilliant, clean, white power. Slowly untangling it from my own energy, which I was guessing was my life force, I pushed it into the glass circle.
It creaked, filling to capacity as the tiny orbs bunched together tightly.
The pressure in my head instantly cleared. “Much better.” I blinked a few times, my vision adjusting to the dark night.
“Food?” Doyle asked.
“Food,” I agreed. I’d never been so depressed about my food options before, as he put cheese and bread into my hands yet again.
“Let me tell you both about pizza,” I began.
…
Logan got out of the jeep cautiously, filling his lungs with the clean scent of the Idaho woods. Undertones ruined its perfect allure—oil, fire, and blood.
Hudson came around the front of the vehicle.
“Split up?” he asked.
“No, we stay together. We don’t know what we are walking into.” He couldn’t believe he was going over survival basics.
Hudson nodded, following Logan’s path. He was headed toward the blood; it called to his lion and he knew the worst of this place would be there. Logan rolled his neck, cracking his knuckles. His lion was present, pushing against the seams of his clothing and heightening his senses.
Hudson matched his pace. Logan could sense Hudson’s beast pushing against his control as well.
Up a hill they marched, fueled by their superior genetics, neither slowing down nor increasing their breathing. They passed shacks with greasy sheets flapping in the breeze as doors, the waft of stale food and body odor overwhelming.
Cresting the top of the hill, Logan looked down to the pit of blood below.
“Fuck,” Hudson hissed.
Logan ground his jaw together, staring down on the hundreds of animal carcasses.
“Please tell me you didn’t allow your entire territory to hunt like this,” Logan growled.
“No — holy — fucking NO!” Hudson stuttered. “Sure, we hunt, but we use everything. We eat all we can, and we’ve got craftsmen who take the hides and bones.” Hudson turned back to the fly-infested flesh before them. “This is, this is wastefulness.”
“It’s undisciplined.” Logan turned back to the huts, inhaling. “They’ve created shifters here.”
Hudson jerked around. “What? How do you know?”
“Newly made shifters love to hunt, need to hunt to balance their beast. We train our minds and hone our mastery of that instinct from the beginning, to ensure a higher level of control. They indulged the hunger.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Kill them, kill them all,” Logan rumbled.
He went into the first hut, ripping the soiled sheet from the makeshift doorway, the wood creaking under his assault. His eyes took just a breath to
adjust to the dim light.
“Gah, what is that smell?” Hudson asked behind him, stumbling back out.
“Feces,” Logan stated, moving deeper into the shelter.
He pushed over the handmade cot and it fell apart. He bent down, tossing the ripped fabric around.
Nothing.
Logan went back out, inhaling the fresh air. “Check the rest of the cabins, there has to be a hint here as to where they went.”
Hudson nodded, moving to check the shack on the other side of the makeshift road. Logan didn’t break his stride, storming into the next foul smelling lean-to.
Hours later, Hudson called out, “Here, I found something!”
Logan tore out of the shack he was searching, running to Hudson. He was behind the line of huts in an actual house. Logan’s step paused as he took in the glass windows, the chimney, and the hose bib in front of the house for running water.
Hudson stood in the doorway, the doorframe broken in.
“What did you find?” Logan asked, resuming his quick pace.
Hudson handed over an open ledger. “They’ve been buying property.”
Logan ran his hand over the aging pages. “Let’s get back to the car and call Tommy.”
…
Something had woken me up, my eyes snapping open. Holding the breath in my chest, I listened intently.
Nothing.
The fire had dimmed substantially and the night air felt cold against my cheeks. I was loath to toss off the warmth of my blankets, but something was there.
Moving my right hand, I checked the blades across my chest, finding their familiar touch reassuring.
“Not yet,” Doyle muttered on the opposite side of the dying fire.
My gaze flicked to him. I kept my mouth shut and my body still. I didn’t want to alert whatever was out there that we were keen to its attack. At least the throbbing in my head had diminished with a few hours of rest.
“Keep the girl alive for the Queen,” a voice instructed, before I was kicked from behind.
“Ouch.” A little warning would have been wonderful. I didn’t waste time trying to untangle myself from the thick blankets, rolling to my side and freeing an arm to throw a knife blindly. It landed in a thigh.
“She stabbed me!” the offended party yelled.
I stood, throwing off my blankets. “You didn’t think kidnapping me and killing my friends would end well, did you?”