Exile: Sídhí Summer Camp #3

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Exile: Sídhí Summer Camp #3 Page 13

by Jodie B. Cooper


  Two hours later, after a bit more trouble between Mitch and Beth, they were on jet skis racing through the cool water.

  A mountain peak loomed in the distance. On the distant shore, a mixture of colorful trees covered the west and northwestern shoreline. Zooming around the edge of the lake, it took longer to cross the large body of water than Sarah had first guessed it would.

  As the midday sun beat down, she was glad for the extra sunscreen Nick had insisted she use, not that she needed any of the coconut-scented lotion on her front-side right then.

  She shifted forward, curling her body around Nick as he drove the ski.

  “You keep that up and I won’t be able to walk once we reach shore,” he said with a groan.

  Chuckling softly, she rubbed her hand across his stomach muscles, and totally understood why people called them washboard abs. “Got a problem?” she asked sweetly, kissing the golden skin inches from her face.

  Glancing backward, he snorted at her. “Don’t give me that innocent look, not when you’re trying to drive me insane.”

  Chuckling, she tightened her hold on him as he swerved through the water, throwing sprays of water into the air.

  Approaching the shoreline, they searched for the small cove listed on the map as Bitter Blood Bay. Circling a sandy peninsula, the towering pine and furble trees gave way to weeping bitters, a high elevation Sídhí-Earth hybrid. The willow-like tree covered the area. Fifty to eighty feet tall, the beet-red trees fluttered in the wind. A few dark blue dwarf trees sprouted among the red giants, but not many.

  Jared whistled to get everyone’s attention, before motioning toward a sign nearly hidden by the feathery foliage of a weeping bitter tree. The large sign, made of polished red, bitter wood, announced the entrance to Bitter Blood Bay and the various activities.

  The creek looked like the starting scene of a swamp movie with red weeping willow branches crowding along both banks instead of green ones. A red drip hit Nick’s shoulder and rolled down his arm.

  She rubbed the slick bitter tree juice off his skin, knowing they were going to be splattered from head-to-foot before they moved from under the trees.

  It didn’t take long to reach their destination, but within that time, the water had changed from murky blue to dark red.

  A group of laughing teens, riding jet skis, zipped past them.

  The trees parted, and they entered an oval-shaped cove where the water truly looked blood red.

  A handful of boats and several dozen jet skis were tied to large, wooden docks that circled the cove. Laughter and the occasional scream of fear drifted from several directions.

  Directly in front of them loomed a thirty-foot wall made of huge black blocks of stone. The dragons had chiseled, THE MAZE, above the double archway. A black, metal gate barred the canal leading into the entertainment area.

  To the left of the hulking wall stood a small building made of weathered wood and gray wooden shingles. The swinging sign said, The Snack Shack.

  Pulling up to one of the specially made docks, Nick climbed off first and tied the jet ski to the sturdy dock.

  The hand he offered her was speckled with slimy, red sap.

  Glancing down, she didn’t think her outfit looked too bad after the trip under the leaking trees, but from Nick’s hiss of exasperation, her hair had turned colors.

  Eyes twinkling over his show of anger on her behalf, she accepted his hand up.

  “Wretched dragons,” he said with snarl, wiping a drip off her face. “Your hair looks like you dyed pink strands through it.”

  Laying a hand on his chest, she smiled at him. “Perhaps I always wanted pink hair?” she asked innocently.

  He snorted. “Right, sure you did. Same as I always wanted to have my fangs removed.”

  She chuckled softly, and they followed the teens toward the building. His hand curled around hers, tightening the warm band around her chest. Looking up at him, she saw the same emotion reflected in his midnight eyes.

  The day looked brighter and the fresh mountain air took on a new meaning. The constant symphony of whistles, croaks, buzzing, and chirps from all the birds, frogs, and morags made her want to forget herself and dance to the wild tune.

  Dancing to the sound of a frog belch? She snorted to herself, very glad no one could hear her wild thoughts. Ugh, she had it so bad.

  Following the other teens up the groaning steps of the old porch she paused as the breeze whipped strands of silken hair around her face. The brisk breeze also carried a fleeting hint of spoiled food.

  “Sarah?” Nick questioned, stopping beside her.

  “Do you smell rotten eggs?” she said quietly, keeping one eye on the group of teens and one on the surrounding trees.

  “No,” Nick said, growling the word. “But if you did, there’s no way we’re staying here.”

  “It was such a brief scent, I’m not sure what I smelled,” she said, glancing toward Brianna as the girl snarled at Emily. She hadn’t forgotten the confrontation she’d had with the girl. Perhaps it was time to have a private conversation, one that ended in Phoenix Valley.

  “You could have told us we couldn’t just go in, that there were sign-up boards,” Brianna said huffily, glaring at Emily.

  “What makes you think I knew?” Emily demanded aggressively. Extending her fangs, she shoved her face into the blond girl’s personal space. “I’ve never been here.”

  Sarah watched Nick’s frown turn dark. “Vampire or not, she never snaps at people,” he said, half to himself.

  Obviously, he didn’t say it soft enough.

  “I’m not snappish!” Emily denied heatedly. Her lip curled back in a snarl.

  “Not much,” Brianna said sarcastically.

  Emily glared at her for a full second, before turning her back on the girl. “Does anyone want our cabin put on one of the lists or not?” she asked, snapping the cap off a black marker. “I couldn’t care less.”

  Two white-boards hung on the outer wall of the Snack Shack. Scrawled across the top of each board, in bold letters, were the two entertainment destinations: The Maze and The King Estate. Each board had a seven-day time line with three lines under each day.

  “So much for The Maze not being open,” Katie said, pointing to the nearly full schedule. “The first opening for The Maze is a week away.”

  After a moment of discussion, they agreed to take the single open slot for the Maze.

  “Do we want the day after tomorrow or something else?” Katie asked, turning their attention to the King Estate.

  “The day after sounds good,” Beth said, glancing at Mitch who had grown quiet.

  Decision made, they made a quick tour of The Snack Shack. It didn’t take long.

  She decided the place needed restocked and cleaned. Dust layered the entire place. The shelves were empty of everything except a few oddball candy bars and a bag of pork rinds that appeared nearly green if you looked at them too long.

  “The map shows a couple of picnic areas just north of here, why don’t we head that way?” Brianna asked, pointing to a large map on one wall.

  “They’re right next to the water. A swim would be great,” Beth added.

  From across the store, Mitch snorted. “You might want red skin, Mutt, but I don’t.”

  The girl’s eyes narrowed and she uttered a soft, nearly silent growl. “I am a khatt shifter, not a wolf.”

  Katie sighed loudly. “Mitch, if you’d look at the map with us, you’d see the picnic area is a few miles away. It’s on the lake.”

  “We might get wet eating on a lake,” her twin said with a grin, laughing at his not-so-funny joke.

  An hour later, they arrived at the second picnic area. The first one had been overflowing with shouting teens as they played a game of tag football, and Sídhí tag football was a bit more hands-on than the mundane game. The blood and roars of anger and pain were testament to that.

  Pulling up to the shore, Sarah was pleased to see a thick layer of sand, not rocks
, covered the gently sloping ground. The trees surrounding the area were furble and pine trees, not a red-leaking bitter tree in sight. The two features made the area perfect.

  Deciding to park the machines on the south side of the small beach, they dragged the jet skis onto firmer ground, not hard when a touch of Sídhí strength was put into play. The silver bracelets might restrict the teens, but they were still several times stronger than the average mundane teenager was.

  “Since we’re here, how about we build a fire and roast our wieners?” Beth asked. Before Mitch had time to snap at the shifter, she spoke directly to him, “I saw you add a big bag of marshmallows and I brought a box of graham crackers and a bag of snack-sized chocolate bars.”

  Snapping his mouth shut, Mitch looked at Beth as if she was an alien species. He couldn’t seem to figure the shifter out.

  “Great idea,” Katie said, poking her brother in the arm. “Isn’t it?”

  The halfling grumbled a comment so low that Sarah couldn’t hear him.

  “What?” Katie prodded him. “You love s’mores.”

  “Yeah, but how’d she know that?” Mitch said, glaring distrustfully at the petite shifter.

  “Who doesn’t like chocolate?” Beth asked innocently. Turning her back on him, she dropped her fairy bag next to the empty fire pit. “I’ll start gathering wood.”

  Nick chuckled at Mitch’s look of disgruntlement. “He doesn’t stand a chance against her,” Nick said in Sarah’s mind.

  “I just hope he gets his head straight and realizes she’s his mate, before she loses her temper and takes a swipe at him,” Sarah said thoughtfully.

  “They’re mates?” he questioned in surprise.

  Glancing into his eyes, she smiled at the curiosity she saw in them. “Katie told me,” she said.

  “He is so going to pay later on,” he said knowingly.

  “She told me in confidence. I probably shouldn’t have said anything,” she said, suddenly uneasy. She didn’t have an abundance of friends, but she took care of the ones she had.

  “Mia Cara, I won’t let on I know,” he said gently. “I’m glad you and Katie have hit it off so well.”

  “Yes, me too,” she said. Walking toward the trees, she added out-loud, “Want to help gather some wood?”

  “Anything for you and s’mores,” he said with a wink.

  They helped gather wood and before long, a fire was going in the small pit.

  From the amount of food everyone pulled out of fairy bags - bags created by fairies to keep things refrigerator cold for weeks - they would have enough for two meals.

  Sarah was on her second hot dog when Katie suggested a round of storytelling.

  “It’s not dark,” Mitch said dismissively, skewering another wiener on a sharp stick. Sticking the end of the stick above the flames, he grinned at his sister. “You can’t use scary stories as an excuse to snuggle with Jared. Scary stories just don’t work in the middle of the day.”

  “She doesn’t need an excuse to snuggle,” Jared said, wrapping an arm around his mate.

  “You were born and raised on Earth. I bet any one of us could tell a story that would have you looking over your shoulders for days,” Brianna said nastily.

  “Bree,” Beth said warningly, tapping the girl on her shoulder, “behave.”

  “Oh, no, she started it,” Mitch said with an eager light in his green, elfin eyes.

  “If you’re finished, would you like to go for a walk with me?” Nick asked into Sarah’s mind.

  “And miss the all the fun?” Sarah asked innocently, laughing at his look of disbelief. “I’d love a walk through the woods.”

  They slipped away from the group. The trees closed around them, giving her the privacy she’d been hungry for without realizing it.

  “Better?” Nick said with large, superior smile.

  “Think you know everything, huh?” she asked quietly, enjoying teasing the big vampire that was hers.

  He chuckled. Touching the smooth skin of her cheek, he said, “Maybe not everything, but I plan on enjoying every minute learning more.”

  Giving her a gentle kiss, he tugged her forward, but she held her ground.

  Leaning toward him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I am so not finished with this discussion,” she said, kissing him full on the lips.

  His groan of pleasure melted her from the inside out. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close and deepened the kiss.

  Days could have passed. She had no clue as his lips made her mind cease functioning.

  The sharp breaking of a branch brought her head up at the same time Nick broke off the kiss. His harsh growl mingled with hers.

  The screaming laughter of a troll shattered the air, releasing the smell of rotten eggs. The hulking brute stood ten feet away. The pitch-black skin of the troll rippled with contained strength. The dirt troll, aptly named for the mole-like burrows it created, shrieked another challenge, long, black claws slashed the air.

  Sarah stepped forward.

  Behind her, Nick growled. His hand clamped on her shoulder.

  Extending her bear-like claws, she raised her hands and crouched in a defensive position. “I’m better equipped to handle him.”

  His harsh growl made his words difficult to understand. “I know that, but that doesn’t mean I like you fighting that thing,” he said snappishly, leaving the remaining part of his statement, about vampires always defending their mates, unspoken.

  “Consider it a lesson in technique,” she said with a soft chuckle. Darting forward, she dipped under the trolls long arms and slashed the creature’s side, leaving four deep grooves.

  Dancing backward, the troll followed her through the trees. Slash. Duck. Kick. The fight was over before she worked up a sweat.

  That’s when five more trolls dropped to the ground, surrounding her.

  ____________

  Nick bunched his hand into a fist. He knew, honestly knew, that Sarah could kill the troll. It didn’t stop him from needing to protect her.

  Something dropped around his neck and jerked him off his feet. He clawed at the thick rope encircling his neck. The three-inch coil tightened around his throat and shook him. Another length wrapped around his shoulders then slid quickly around his waist and legs.

  That was no rope.

  The fork-tip of a scaled tail, copper with black rings, dangled in front of his eyes. A man’s face appeared in front of him. His triangular face bulged and the lower half dropped open as the lamia hissed at him, baring long, dripping fangs. The snake-man tightened its coils, pushing the air from Nick’s lungs, cracking his ribs.

  At the sound of running footsteps, the lamia whipped its head toward the sound. Nick struggled, but it didn’t hinder the snake-man as the creature pulled his dangling body up into the thick foliage of the furble tree.

  Jared and Mitch, closely followed by girls, raced below the snake’s hiding spot, running toward what sounded like a dozen trollish screams of high-pitched laughter.

  As soon as the girls disappeared from view, a woman stepped into the clearing below him. “Get him down,” she said in a quiet hiss of words. “Hurry! Bruxcilla said the trolls wouldn’t last long!”

  The coils loosened and he dropped to the ground with a bone-jarring grunt of pain. Two pair of hands, one on each side of him, jerked him to his feet. He hissed. Gritting his teeth against any additional show of pain as his abused ribs groaned in protest to the rough treatment.

  The woman turned and hurried toward the beach, but not before Nick caught a good look at her copper-colored skin and slit-pupil eyes, another lamia, a Sídhí with the ability to morph the lower half of their body into that of a snake.

  He fought against them, but with the silver binding his strength, he didn’t stand a chance against two adult Sídhí.

  The roar of a khatt echoed through the trees.

  He breathed a sigh of relief that Sarah had help. The shifter might not like Sarah, but if Mitch fought the tr
olls then Beth would be in the middle of the fight as well. His exile might be deadly, but no one, not even Sarah, could fight a troop of wild trolls and win.

  He shifted in their tight grasp and managed to shove his foot between one of his capture’s legs.

  Cursing, the man stumbled.

  “Stop playing around,” the woman said, glaring at her companions. “I’ll not be punished by the masters for your inability to control a single vampire.”

  As they crossed the tree line, Nick knew he’d better come up with something and fast. The woman had already reached the jet skis and was pushing them into the water.

  Lengthening his fangs, he chomped the nearest bit of coppery flesh.

  As Nick shoved venom into the fleshy part of the lamia’s arm, the man shouted, cursing Nick and all his brethren.

  A lamia’s fangs were dangerous in an attack, but held no venom. It had been a sore spot of contention between the two races for eons.

  The man’s grasp lessened as the venom attacked his nervous system, causing extreme pain. His cursing turned frantic, as he desperately tried to get Nick off his arm.

  Sarah ported onto the beach. She glanced at the woman then turned her attention on the two men.

  Striking outward with a swift kick, she smashed her foot into the chest of the uninjured lamia.

  The man flew backward.

  Nick jerked his teeth out of the bitter-tasting flesh and struggled to break the man’s hold. His release came too easily.

  Using Sarah’s attack on his comrade as a distraction, the injured snake-man lunged at Sarah.

  Nick smashed his fist into the man’s jaw just as Sarah slashed her claws across the snake-man’s exposed neck.

  The lamia dropped to the ground, spurting blood from a severed artery.

  “Are you okay,” Nick demanding, glancing down her slender length looking for damage.

  She snorted, literally snorted, before she said, “I’m not the one the lamias decided to kidnap.”

  Shrill screams erupted from the bushes.

 

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