Surviving Today

by Mande Chambers

  The dark hair guy sat next to D during fourth period philosophy class. Since the guy looked vaguely familiar, but he didn’t recognize the guy from school, he assumed that this was the new junior transfer student the whole school was buzzing about.

  D leaned back in his desk, studying the new guy out of the corner of his eye. The kid was about his height, had dark brown hair, brown eyes, and carried the broad shoulders of a football player.

  Deciding that the only way he was going to figure out how he knew the kid was to talk to him, he turned in the small desk and said, “Denton Tiern.”

  The kid raised an eyebrow. “I figured as much when I saw you talking to Shanna before class. Patrick Lanthani.”

  Ah, that was how he knew him. The puzzle pieces were finally fitting together. “You’re Zeke’s friend. The one that she claims is the spawn of Satan.”

  Patrick smirked and raised his other eyebrow. “Yep. That would be me. Interesting description she used.”

  Before D could interrogate him any further, the bell rang and class started.

  After school, Shanna walked into the small open library, looking for D. She was ready to go home and crash. It had been a late night and an early morning.

  More like she was ready to go home and plot, but sleep sounded less evil. She needed to come up with a way to get rid of Patrick. Or, at the very least, control him. D just happened to be her ride today, so she wasn’t going to get to plot her evil plan or crash in her own bed without him.

  She found him sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs, deep in conversation with someone. She crossed the small open space and swore under her breath.

  Damn it.

  He was deep in conversation with Patrick.

  Seriously? This couldn’t be good and come on. This so wasn’t cool.

  She cleared her throat, holding her hand out for the keys. “Sorry to interrupt, uh, whatever this is. I’ll just be waiting for you in the car.”

  D arched an eyebrow. “You’ve been testy, leaning towards bitchy, all day Corelsand, but that was just downright rude.”

  In her peripheral vision, she watched Patrick quirk and eyebrow, the beginning of a grin toying with the corners of his mouth. She fought the strong urge to wipe that grin off his face. Instead, she ignored him and kept her attention focused on D.

  She wiggled her fingers impatiently, waiting for the keys to appear in the palm of her hand.

  “Since my girlfriend insists on being rude,” D said pointedly, dangling the keys just out of her reach, “I’ll make sure to get to the bottom of why she hates you so much. And why she refers to you as the spawn of Satan.”

  Really? He needed to let this go, like now.

  And she didn’t think he was the spawn of Satan. She knew he was.

  “Good to see you again, Lanthani. Let’s not do this again any time soon. Now, give me the damn keys, Tiern.” She still hadn’t looked in Patrick’s direction. She felt his curious eyes boring into the back of her head.

  “D, give the poor girl the keys before her head starts spinning around and she plays out that scene from The Exorcist. I really don’t take offense to her standoffish behavior. I’m used to it.”

  D tossed her the keys. “I’ll be down when I’m finished here.” The look he shot her said that he wasn’t happy with her behavior.

  In all honesty, she really didn’t care if he approved. She wanted out of the building as fast as inhumanly possible.

  “Don’t even think about trying anything.”

  “Bite me, Tiern,” was her response as she turned on her heel and exited the library.

  Later that night, Shanna slipped into a pair of black running shorts, a black T-shirt, and black socks and running shoes. Yes, there was a theme to her wardrobe. Slipping out the basement door, she walked the few blocks to the park.

  Ignoring the memories that it brought on, she cut through the park and almost ran to the running trail that made its way through the woods surrounding the park.

  A figure, dressed similar to her in all black, leaned against an oak tree, looking at their watch. She approached the figure slowly. She was deciding whether or not she wanted to kill him or go along with their nightly run.

  She was still royally pissed off about the ambush at school. She knew she was being bitchy and it wasn’t that big of a deal, but things had just gotten back to somewhat normal between her and D. She wasn’t ready to test that yet.

  Patrick saw her approach and slowly began to jog down the dirt path. She easily caught up to him and they worked their way into a full run, letting a blessed mindless oblivion come on.

  Spring 2000

  It had been in early April, right after her first run-in with Kai, but before the attack in the park. Shanna had been at a party—surprise, surprise—and he had come up to her, whispering in her ear, “Meet me…” and he’d given her the spot.

  He wasn’t happy. He looked pissed and downright lethal.

  She looked up into his deep brown eyes and replied, “Do I look like I was born yesterday, Lanthani? I’m not stupid enough to be caught in a secluded place, completely at your mercy, in the dark.”

  Patrick smiled. “Afraid you couldn’t take me? Afraid that you would be tempted over to the dark side?” His smile turned evil. “Afraid that I’ll find out your deepest, darkest secret? Well, newsflash Corelsand, that particular hybrid is out of the bag. Trust me when I say, it’s in your best interest to meet me.”

  Shanna winced as the tattoo on her forearm suddenly heated up to nearly volcanic proportions. No way. There was no freaking way.

  “When?” she demanded.

  “One hour.”

  So, needless to say, Shanna had met him in the woods an hour later. That is, after having to fake yet another migraine to her brothers and D. After assuring them all that she was a big girl who could walk three blocks home by herself, she had derailed her route and headed for the park.

  It was an unusually warm night for April. The stars shone bright in the clear night sky, providing a nice backdrop to the quarter moon. Shanna leaned back against the massive trunk of the nearest tree, wondering how long she had before the guys realized she wasn’t home in bed nursing the mother of all headaches. She really hated lying to D, but this was a part of her life he didn’t even know existed.

  The consequences could be dealt with later.

  Her forearm heated up again. She caught the blade of the knife between the palms of her hands, the tip just inches from the skin between her eyebrows. She adjusted her grip on the knife and threw it at Patrick’s head as he stepped out from behind the tree across from her.

  He stepped calmly to the side, allowing the blade to embed itself into the trunk of the tree.

  “What the hell, Phoenix?”

  He pulled the knife from the tree, studying her with interest. “Oh, come on, Riya. The righteous indignation act isn’t a good look on you. I gave you plenty of warning. Your Hunter tattoo heated up, didn’t it?”

  Was he serious?

  “That’s not the point! And I haven’t gone by Riya since the mid 1700’s.”

  He stroked the blade of the hunting knife. “Yes, it is. It’s not like it would have actually killed you had you not caught it in time.”

  Shanna narrowed her eyes, making a small motion with her hands.

  Patrick swore and dropped the knife as the heated blade burnt his hand.

  “I would really prefer not to spend the rest of this life cycle as a fourteen-year-old girl, thank you very much,” she explained. “And how did you know I was a Regulator with the cloaking spell on my tattoos?”

  Patrick smirked. “Does Mexico and a certain Villa ring any bells?”

  Holy shit.

  Patrick had been at the villa last month. She hadn’t bothered with any smoke and mirrors during that op because she was dealing with psychotic science experiments, ones that made even the most dangerous natural born paranormal hybrids look like teacup Chihuahuas.

  “I don’t know wh
at you’re talking about, Phoenix.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Really? You do realize that you are calling me Phoenix, not Patrick, right? So, I guess we’re going to have to do this the hard way then.”

  Her eyes widened as his hand heated up and a solid ball of fire was suddenly headed straight for her.

  She stood her ground, showing no fear. The fireball bounced off her chest, disappearing before it hit the ground. She gawked at him incredulously. “Did you just throw a fireball at me?”

  “Once again, wasn’t going to hurt you. I know you know what I am, who I am. After all, you did call me by my birth name.”

  He held his hands, palms up, at his sides, his eyes going blacker than the night sky without the light of the moon or stars.

  Oh, this really couldn’t be good. He was absolutely, one hundred percent correct when he stated that she knew what he was.

  He was her worst nightmare come to life.

  The one creature who could see through all her glamour. The only supernatural who could cloak themselves from her built in magical paranormal detector. He was one of a handful of his kind that didn’t fear her, that could control her kind if it came down to it.

  She watched helplessly as the Greater Demon in front of her began to chant.

  "Hoc facite in tenebris continebantur.

  Chlamis ex nobis Mortalibus huius regni.

  Aufero ullus magicas potestates ex ambobus.

  Ab homine usque ad Nos est."

  Oh, fuck me.

  Shanna reached down, never letting him out of her sight, and pulled the dagger she carried in her boot out of its sheath as the wind whipped around them, carrying out the demonic orders it was given. She stood up straight, dagger in hand as Patrick lowered his hands and his eyes faded back to their human color of brown.

  Well, when he said they were going to do things the hard way, he hadn’t been exaggerating. Not only had he masked them from the mortal realm, he had also removed any and all of their abilities. They were both essentially human for the time being.

  Shanna waited for him to make his move. He pulled his own dagger out of his waistband, his eyes twinkling with mischief as the wind around them kicked up.

  Son of a…

  Shanna jumped back, the first swipe of his blade narrowly missing her stomach. She blocked his incoming punch with her forearm, catching him in the stomach with her knee.

  He stumbled back, recovering quickly. He spun around, catching her foot an inch from his face. He smiled, lifting her up and twisting her leg. She swore, flying through the air as she hit the nearest tree trunk with a loud exhale of breath.

  Damn, even human he was exceptionally strong.

  Her dagger slipped from her hand on impact. She groaned, sliding down the length of the trunk, slouching at the base of it as she cradled her right arm. Her arm had broken in three places with the force of the impact.

  Were those little blue birds flying around her head as the world tilted on in axis like the Tilt-A-Wheel ride at the local fair?

  The hurricane like winds died down.

  Patrick slowly sauntered up to her, like a lion playing with his meal, knowing he had her dead to rights. When he was directly in front of her, both versions of him grabbed her arm. He pulled her up, leaning her back against the tree.

  Okay, she had no problem holding the massive tree up.

  He grinned, pulling her sweater over her head. He then spun her around, holding the back of her neck, so that her face was against the rough bark of the tree. He traced the tattoo on her right shoulder blade.

  It was a triple helix, with the Chinese symbol for power drawn into it.

  “Just as I suspected,” he murmured in her ear. “Cristian found out about you and, to hide who you really were from the rest of the world, he threw the tattoo of Helix Corp onto your shoulder to assert power and control over your unique abilities.”

  “Don’t think he did it to protect me,” she mumbled in response to both Patrick’s.

  “Oh, I don’t.”

  He let her go quickly, stepping back. She attempted to turn around without emptying the contents of her stomach onto his four pairs of shoes. She glared at him, fumbling to pull her sweater back on.

  His chocolate colored eyes met hers. He waved his hand, instantly healing all the damage he had inflicted onto her body. He then reached behind his neck, pulling his own sweater over his head.

  He turned his back to her.

  Her jaw dropped as she saw the exact replica of her tattoo on the back of his right shoulder.

  He turned back to face her, pulling his sweater back on. He leaned against the tree behind him, folding his arms over his chest.

  Shanna recovered quickly. She leaned back against her own tree, mimicking his stance as she studied him. He stood just shy of six foot. He had shaggy hair a shade or two lighter than black, inquisitive chocolate colored eyes, and light brown skin. He wore a brown cotton sweater, black jeans, and black boots. She had never noticed how cute he was over the years. She’d always been put off by the strange feeling she got every time he was around her.

  She now understood that feeling of uneasiness a lot better.

  He was literally a spawn of Satan. One of the Four Princes of Hell. Or The Four as they were called.

  One of the four Greater Demons that could control her. Make her serve her master Lucifer against her will.

  “Shanna, let’s count our blessings that Christoph and Cristian haven’t realized that I hold the power to control you. That together the two of us are unstoppable, capable of great chaos and destruction. Or figured out that I am literally the Phoenix. The bird that rises from the ashes.”

  Shanna nodded. “Thank God for small favors.” She cleared her throat. “So when did you stop going by Phoenix?”

  Patrick laughed. “When I stopped making Balam look like Gandhi during the Victorian era.”

  Shanna groaned. “Wait. You’re telling me you were at one time worse than your older brother?”

  “And, moving on. And I’m your chosen handler. Can we just stick with I’m human and my name is Patrick Lanthani and leave it at that?”

  August 2000

  Shanna brought herself out of the trip down the demonic version of the yellow brick road as the run came to a close. They did their cool down stretches in silence. It seemed the more she wanted to keep her past and her secrets hidden, the more they wanted to surface and bite her in the ass.

  Karmichael knew the truth about her.

  Patrick knew it all and was a part of both worlds.

  This wasn’t going to end well, but she was powerless to stop it.

  CHAPTER 31

  August 2015

  Montana

  “We need to talk.”

  “No. We really don’t.” Megan opened her eyes, a look of pure hatred in those emerald greens. “Is nothing sacred to you, Scott? For the love of God, I am asleep in bed next to your best friend.”

  Scott propped a shoulder against the shimmering wall. “And? Is that supposed to bother me? Stop being so self-righteous, Megs. It’s not like I haven’t been in here before—this is the second time tonight alone—or spent more time than either one of us would really like to admit out loud in a bedroom setting with you.”

  Megan glared at him. “Care to explain your penchant for having parties in my subconscious as of late?”

  “Move over woman. For such a small creature, you sure do take up a lot of room.”

  “For all intents and purposes, this is my bed,” she shot back.

  Scott watched in amusement as Julian ignored her and pushed her over like she weighed nothing, almost tossing her off the other side of the double bed in the process. He made himself comfortable in the bed beside her.

  Julian fluffed the pillows and propped them up against the headboard. He leaned back, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “Much better. Now, what’s this about you and Megs and bedrooms?”

  Megan balanced herself on the edge of the b
ed, rolling her eyes. “One track mind. Juveniles. Every single one of you,” she grumbled. With a very exasperated sigh, she scooted closer to him and sat up. “You know, Julian, you were one of my favorites.”

  “I’m still your favorite, baby girl,” he informed her, clasping his hands behind his head.

  “Hey! I thought I was your favorite!” Corbin protested.

  “I said one of my favorites.” She leaned back against the headboard, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs.

  Julian shrugged. “Meh. Semantics.”

  Scott took this rare moment to study her. Julian had successfully distracted her from ripping him a new one, so he drank her in. Since they were back in her subconscious, she was wearing a sleeveless white flowing dress that contrasted well with her tan skin. Her black hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, a few wayward tendrils framing her always stunning emerald green eyes.

  “Make room for me!” Corbin exclaimed as he did a cannonball onto the bed. He landed at the foot of it and swore as he over calculated, almost ass planting on the floor on the other side of the bed. Righting himself, he leaned back against the footboard, stretching his long legs out so that they rested between Julian and Megan.

  “I give the landing a five,” Max said, pulling a chair up to Megan’s side of the bed.

  Kelly scoffed from his spot against the wall on Julian’s side of the bed. “That was a two pointer at best, man.”

  “I give it a three,” Scott chimed in.

  Megan threw her hands up in the air. “Children. You are all children.” She blew out a breath. “Whose brilliant idea was it to throw a party in my bed?”

  Corbin whistled, studying his hands.

  Julian coughed into his hands, but not before Scott caught sight of the grin threatening to overtake his face.

  Max studied the moving floor at his feet, rubbing the back of his neck.

  Kelly studied the shimmering ceiling, the corners of his mouth twitching.