by G A Chase
The boat cornered so hard that water flowed in over the gunwale. “This is your chance, Jennifer. Slip over the side.”
Are you crazy? There are snakes and alligators in the swamp. I’d rather get shot than eaten.
“Damn it, woman, do what I tell you. Do it now before he straightens out the boat!”
But before Jennifer could whine a counterargument, something hit the side of the boat with such force that she rolled out into the river. The shock caused her to gulp in a mouthful of the putrid water. She tried to swim, but this wasn’t the nice clear water of the pool at the gym. She figured out which way was up only to find herself staring at the bottom of a boat roaring over her head. I’m going to die.
“No, you’re fucking not! Roll over and look at the bottom of the river.”
Even without being directly connected to the woman’s soul, Sere could tell that if Jennifer wasn’t already drowning, she’d have sucked in another lungful of water. As far as the woman could see were overlapping two-inch-wide reptile scales.
Lefty! Good boy! Nice tail wag to dump the boat.
Sere hoped her enthusiasm would seep through into Jennifer’s fears. “Grab hold. He’s our friend. What do you have to lose?”
Jennifer reached down and grasped Lefty’s massive shoulders. Like an underwater personal watercraft, the gigantic gator jetted away from the boats. When he surfaced, he nosedived into the riverbank, causing Jennifer to tumble over his head. She landed hard on her back, the impact driving the water from her lungs. She lay gasping on the sandbar while staring right into the open coffin-sized jaws of the monster.
Sere really wanted to reach out and pat him on the head. “Don’t worry. That’s his way of smiling. He’s just happy you’re okay.”
“He’s got a fucking terrifying way of showing it!” Jennifer screamed.
A loud blast echoed in from the swamp. “One demon down,” she told Jennifer. “Only my four-barrel shotgun makes that much noise. Bart wouldn’t waist those shells unless he was certain he had his prey in his sights.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jennifer started crying again. “I’m really losing my mind this time, aren’t I?”
Damn it. I knew better, Sere thought.
“You’re fine, just in shock. Don’t worry. This will all be over before you know it. Focus on Henry and Bobby. They’re going to be so relieved to see you. Stay strong for them.”
27
Chapter 15
The bump that should have deposited Sere’s soul back into her doppelgänger body yanked hard at her stomach but failed to break the connection. “It’s time for me to go.”
“No!” Jennifer screamed. “I won’t let you. For the first time in my life, I’ve been brave. I’m not letting that go.”
The technological pull continued to rip at Sere’s soul, but Jennifer was holding on like a kid who’d just caught a Mardi Gras coconut from the Zulu King himself. Do I tell her I’m not a part of her and see her lose her mind, or let her think bravery is some magical force that just shows up and leaves when it wants?
Bart swung the small high-speed boat up to the shore. Fortunately, Jennifer refrained from making an outward statement about the half-naked muscular hero. But her wide unblinking eyes and watering mouth were enough for Sere to know the housewife would gladly agree to any sexually deviant idea that might pass through the Navy SEAL’s head.
That man should be posing for the covers of romance novels. I’d read every one, Jennifer said.
“Don’t give him any ideas. And don’t get any yourself.”
Bart jumped out of the boat like a navy commando, surveyed the area to make sure they were safe, then bent down next to Jennifer. “Can you stand?”
Jennifer’s comical attempt at sitting up shouldn’t have fooled anyone. “I don’t think so,” she told Bart.
“Bullshit,” Sere said. “You are so fucking transparent.”
You’re right about the fucking part. Jennifer held her arms out limply, hoping to be picked up.
Bart’s sinewy forearms closed in around her like boa constrictors. One hand snuck under the remains of her silk blouse and grasped her below the side of her breast.
Why did I wear a bra? Stupid. But then, no one told me I’d be saved by Adonis.
Bart’s other hand grasped her far leg. With one clean jerk, he had her off the ground and held tight against his sweaty rock-hard chest.
Come here often, sailor? Jennifer peered into his heroic dark-brown eyes.
Sere was more than a little disgusted and fervently wished she could return to her own body. “At least you have the good sense not to make an actual pass at him. Let me inform you that you’re married and have a son, in case your hormones have caused temporary amnesia.”
Maybe I could use that as an excuse, Jennifer thought.
Bart stepped over the boat railing and set her in the passenger’s chair. “I’ll have you home in no time.”
Do you have to?
Sere focused on only the necessary vocal muscles. “Bart.”
He stood stone-still and stared into her eyes. “Sere? What the hell are you still doing in there? We had an agreement.”
She focused all her attention on making each word count. “Won’t let me leave.”
“Damn it!” He gunned the engine and raced toward the other boat that was idling out in the swamp. Alligators that were finishing up their meal of freshly sliced doppelgänger dove for the river bottom.
Standing in the middle of the johnboat, Fisher raised Sere’s single-barrel blaster. “What is it? Do we have more company?”
Joe at the controls swung the boat parallel to his fiberglass skiff and peered past Bart to Jennifer. “Is she okay?”
You two should know better than to ask Bart more than one question at a time, Sere thought.
Big, beautiful, heroic, and dumb. God, I love that man, Jennifer thought.
“Sere’s still connected,” Bart said. “Something must have gone wrong at the cache.”
With more agility than Sere suspected, Fisher jumped into the boat. “I’ll go with you. I know a little something about being possessed. I can keep her calm.”
Joe took off first with Bart right behind him. Smarts before speed, Sere thought.
Fisher leaned down next to the chair. “How are you feeling, darlin’?”
Look, old man, could you please just move over a foot or two so I can admire that hunk of man meat at the controls? Out loud, Jennifer managed to control her lust. “I’ve been kidnapped, dragged through the swamp, shot at, and fallen overboard into a river full of alligators. I’ve had better nights.”
Bart throttled back to avoid overtaking Joe and yelled over his shoulder to Fisher, “Sere’s not the one holding on. It’s Jennifer who needs to let go.”
Fisher sat on the back engine housing and nodded. “It’s like magically being given all the attributes you always wanted, isn’t it? Bravery, strength, self-confidence, a conviction that life is yours for the taking—they’re all now a part of you. Who wouldn’t hold onto that with all they’ve got?”
Jennifer blinked as if it was physically painful to shift her gaze from Bart’s half-naked body to the gentleman next to her. “How did you know?”
“I’m possessed by a similar affliction. Though in my case, I’d happily be rid of it. Here’s what I can tell you: what you’re experiencing is nothing more than your personal conviction. Believe you’re brave, and you will be. Stick to your beliefs, and you will be strong. Accept that you’ve made it this far in life by charting your own path, and you’ll lose the self-doubt that doesn’t serve any purpose. You don’t need any magical spell to give you what you already have.”
“But why should I give up something that works?” Sere could feel Jennifer’s grip on her soul intensify. She was like a child not willing to give up her doll. What she didn’t realize was this one had teeth.
“Aren’t you missing that luscious ass?” Sere softly asked, hoping Jennifer wo
uld think the idea was her own.
Jennifer twisted away from the old man while pretending the movement was due to muscle fatigue. Once she was no longer facing the back of the boat, Sere continued flexing the muscles already in action to complete the body’s three-quarter turn. When Jennifer faced the water, Sere made her flex her leg and back muscles so hard that she fell over the side.
Above the river’s surface, both motorboats cut their throttles. Joe was the first to close in on the splash. The instant he had the motor shut down, he dove in.
Panic froze Jennifer sufficiently for Sere to perform her emergency water procedure. The first step was to get out of the confining blouse and dress that floated around her like ghosts trying to drag her to the underworld. With the shoes kicked off, dress shimmied out of, and back buttons of the blouse yanked open, Sere kicked hard toward the surface.
As soon as her head broke out of the river, she locked eyes with Joe, who was treading water three feet away. “Fight me.”
He gave a single nod and dove under her. Sere only had partial control of Jennifer’s body, and those muscles hadn’t seen so much action since her wedding night. Jennifer kicked at the hands grabbing her ankles, but without Sere’s help, her fighting and evasion skills were no match for Joe’s Special Forces training. Like an alligator performing his death roll, Joe had her under the surface and twirling in all directions. As she flailed, trying to figure out which way was up, she exhaled the precious air and refilled her lungs with water.
Even in the dimly lit murky gray-green water, Sere saw the telltale red hue of her demonic side taking hold. With a double-fisted hammer blow to Joe’s head, she broke free of his grasp.
The panic in Jennifer turned to horror. Instead of swimming for freedom, Sere straightened out Jennifer’s body and shot at Joe like a torpedo. “I’ll bash him in the gut, driving the wind out of him, then drag him to the bottom.”
I fucking have to breathe! Jennifer’s thoughts reminded Sere of her first training session with Joe so many years ago.
“No, you don’t. Not for at least another minute,” Sere said.
But the woman’s body was again no match for Joe. He arched his back and landed his knee right into Jennifer’s temple. As her momentum dissipated, he grabbed her by the hair.
Let me go! Jennifer pleaded.
“I’m not the one holding you,” Sere said. “I’m not stealing your life, and you’re not taking mine. Accept that you’re a wife and mother and not some badass warrior. Let go of me, and you can return to those you love.”
Sere came to, gasping for air, on the floor of Joe’s hidden cache.
“Easy. Just focus on your breathing. You’re going to be fine.” Polly had her hand at Sere’s back like someone who’d just performed the Heimlich maneuver.
“What happened?” Sere felt as if she’d been hit by the bus when it sank into the swamp and had been trapped under it ever since.
“You were a damn fool—that’s what happened,” Kendell yelled from her lookout position.
“Now dear,” Myles said next to her, “we’ve all been reckless a time or two and usually under your guidance.”
“He’s got a point.” Polly unwound the bandage from Sere’s head. “But it wasn’t entirely Sere’s fault this time.”
“Stop discussing my actions as if you had a say in any of it. I’m not running a democracy.” Sere struggled to sit upright. “Tell me what happened to Jennifer out in the swamp. Is she okay?”
Polly repacked the med kit. “They’re taking her to Joe’s cabin to give her a once-over—physically and spiritually. She sucked down a lot of swamp water and is in shock, but Joe and Bart agree she’ll survive. Bart also wanted you to know they got all three doppelgängers, and Lefty’s alligator contingent disposed of the evidence. Once Jennifer is settled in with Joe and Fisher, Bart said he’d ride your motorcycle down here.”
“One more apocalypse averted.” Sere’s head and body hurt, which wasn’t typical even after a fight with Joe. She nodded at Polly’s gear. “Got any demon-strength aspirin in that thing?”
Polly glanced at Myles and Kendell, who were still focused on the swamp. “Later. We need to talk about that blood transfusion,” she whispered as if that were some sort of solution to Sere’s headache.
Like I had a choice about that. Sere kept that thought to herself. Clearly, Polly didn’t want the others to hear about the transfusion.
28
Chapter 16
Even by Sere’s standards, it had been a long couple of days fighting demons—not that anyone outside of a select few would ever know about the latest averted apocalypse. Even those who were aware of her actions weren’t likely to give her credit. If the ungrateful Northshore dudes did find out about the destruction of the murderers, they’d find some way to make it sound as if they were the ones responsible for the heroic effort.
As for Kendell, Polly, and the New Orleans contingent, the week was just another battle in a war without end. Only Bart had expressed his approval, giving Sere a good pat on the butt for her efforts, but that felt more like one teammate congratulating another than something more intimate. Given the choice, she’d have rather patted his luscious ass than the other way around.
By the time she returned to the city persona that she was still crafting, the late-afternoon sun was beating down on the Quarter. She had every right to be hungry and tired even though food and sleep weren’t life necessities she required. As she walked down Decatur Street, the smells of cheese, pepperoni, and olives wrapped around her nose, making her mouth water. Never before had she wanted to take a bite out of something so badly, with the possible exception of Bart’s perfectly toned bottom.
She reached deep into the pocket of the bloodstained bustier and pulled out a twenty wrapped around a business card. Damn, Kendell. I guess if the tip didn’t land in the jar, you forgot all about it. She turned the card over and read the hastily scrawled note. “I’d love to get lunch sometime and discuss the beautiful music we could make together.” Blech. No wonder you left the twenty in the costume pocket.
She figured one person’s rejection was another’s pizza. “I suppose I deserve a little reward for stopping another demon horde.”
Beneath the heavenly aroma of melted cheese over baked crust, the brightly lit pizzeria smelled of cleaning solvents. From the way her boots stuck to the tile floor, Sere wondered when the place had last changed the water bucket. Turntables under heat lamps kept the pizzas warm in their countertop displays.
“I’d like a pepperoni and olive.”
The woman behind the counter looked up from her romance novel, glowering. She was probably in the middle of a particularly steamy chapter. “How many slices?”
Sere slid the twenty across the counter. “The whole pie.”
“Fine.” The cashier finally set the book down and grabbed a box. Then she slid the pizza off the tray and into the generic brown cardboard. The crust had all of the structural stability of a twelve-inch uncooked flounder.
Sere grabbed a slice before the woman had a chance to fold the top down. She curled it nearly in half lengthwise and took a bite. “This must be the absolute best pizza in the world.” She took another bite and savored the burning-hot cheese as it scorched the roof of her mouth.
The young woman leaned across the counter. “Lady, I work here, but that doesn’t mean I have to endure your sarcasm. We stay in business exclusively due to hungover partiers looking for something salty and greasy to get them right for another night.”
Sere decided her hunger had to be a remnant of her connection to Jennifer. That poor woman probably hadn’t eaten at all before her abduction. If she had, she’d have been yakking all over the boat. “Rough night,” she said, playing along with the hungover act.
The cashier leaned back as if justified in her assessment. “We get that a lot.”
With the knowledge that even a college student would likely turn up her nose at the pizza, Sere devoured the slice on her way ou
t the door. She only made it a block before the oily cheese, processed meat, and soggy crust made her stomach gurgle like it was filled with swamp gas.
A familiar army-boot-covered foot projected from the corner doorway. She balanced the pizza box on one hand like a fancy Italian waiter. “Your order is ready, sir.”
The homeless dude edged his back up along the doorframe into the seated position. “You’re back, and with food.” His eyes fixed on the cardboard box. “I’m glad to see you’re none the worse for your adventure.”
“Just wanted to return the lunch favor.” She took her spot on the lower step and opened the box.
He peered over his nose at the pizza then looked her in the eyes. “I need to get you a list of proper restaurants.”
“Like you’ve got any room to talk. What was that fish, anyway? Gulf crapper?”
He wiped his perpetually dirty hand on his equally disgusting jacket then reached in for a slice. “Free food is free food. You wouldn’t happen to have any mustard, would ya?”
“On pizza? No. I didn’t think to pick any up,” she said sarcastically.
He shrugged and began devouring the slice. “To what do I owe the honor?”
“Can’t a girl just want to share a meal with a friend?”
He looked at her with glazed eyes. “Nope. Not in your case. You treat people the way a kid would treat her dolls—pretending we’re real but not actually believing it. We’ve been watching over you since Kendell told us of your existence. In all that time, I’ve never heard of you spending time with someone simply for the conversation.”
I didn’t have toys, only doppelgängers. “That’s not true,” she said. But she thought back over her interactions independent of killing demons. “I dance at the club every chance I get.”
He nearly spit out a mouthful of pizza as he laughed. “Dancing isn’t conversation.”
“It is if it’s done right,” she countered seductively.