Magic and Mayhem: A Collection of 21 Fantasy Novels

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Magic and Mayhem: A Collection of 21 Fantasy Novels Page 359

by Jasmine Walt


  I can't get up! JoAnn pushed.

  I tried to help my mother; we danced toward one of the seats like a whore and a drunk doing a tango.

  "Jeni, this was your idea! Do something!" Mom screamed, pulled away from me, landing by JoAnn and grabbing her ankles as they both scrambled for the seat.

  I hit the deck, landing against the transom.

  Fist pumping circles in the air, Zaire let out four masculine grunts.

  "I'm going to shit myself," my mother yelled, still wrapped around JoAnn's legs.

  Resi high-fived Zaire.

  Mom, let go of my legs! Damn you, you little demon! JoAnn slapped at Mom's hands and both of them rolled back into the transom with me.

  Jeni tried to grab the steering wheel but fell backwards, arms flailing as she hit the floor of the boat next to my mother in an ass cracking smack. Her head fell in my lap.

  I looked down at her.

  "I think it would be a good idea if we all just stayed down here for a minute," I said, the four of us in a heap like fish dumped from a net.

  I turned back to the dock and Marcus shook his head, a big grin on his face. Dorius, dripping wet, looked livid. The other two men, apparently waiting for instructions, glanced from us to the two brothers.

  "This is about all I can take!" Jeni was not in a happy place.

  My mom wasn't either. "Zaire! Goddamned idiot! Straighten out this frigging boat and get us the hell out of here!"

  As all of this was going on, I could hear the continuing saga of JoAnn's sarcastic voice. I glanced at her. She had a crazy-eyed look that would put Jack Nicholson in 'The Shining' to shame. I hate snakes! I hate gators! I hate getting wet, and I am not going to swim all the way to shore!

  I tried to stand up but my Mother took the opportunity to grab me by my hair. She yanked me inches from her cute little nose and with spittle flying from her mouth, she spat, "Susan, I am not gonna drown tonight!" Her eyes gleamed gold fire, her white hair blew in cute little curls around her face.

  Everyone in this boat is in my personal space! JoAnn looked at me with wrestling eyebrows as I tried to free my mother's hand from my hair.

  Zaire, looking a bit put out, yanked the throttle into neutral and ambled over to the starboard seat behind JoAnn.

  Resi slid in beside her.

  The boat rocked in the water.

  Mom got up, plopped down in the seat behind the driver's seat, and tucked a big white bumper under her butt.

  "And you have a bumper up your ass, why?" I asked, rubbing my head as I got to my feet.

  "It floats, doesn't it?"

  Jeni crawled over to the driver's seat and wiggled into it. She firmly gripped the throttle and asked, "Everyone ready?"

  Deep bellowing laughter ricocheted between my ears. My head shot toward the boat dock. Susan my dear, I am very much looking forward to meeting you, a deep throaty voice announced.

  I broke out in goose bumps and frowned at the only immortal with a smile on his face, as Jeni eased the throttle forward and the boat headed toward the other side of the lake. "Did anyone else hear that hot looking immortal talking in their head?"

  "You're so full of shit," JoAnn barked.

  "Hot! I'd like to flame up their immortal asses, alright," Zaire huffed.

  "Tomorrow's another day, sweetie," Resi giggled.

  "So, how are all you dead-chicks doing?" Jeni quipped.

  I shook my head in confusion as I watched the men on the dock fade into the distance.

  "Well, we sure as hell showed them, didn't we?" Mom said, cozying up to the bumper.

  21

  "What the hell was that all about, Dorius?" Warren paced on the edge of the dock as the other three immortals watched the lights from the boat wink out in the distance. "Without the trolls help, that damn gator would probably be halfway across the lake by now, with you still in its mouth."

  Mort plucked the head of the gator out of the water, turning it in front of his face. "I think… I know… look… this is straaange." Mort slowly waded over, pointing at two extra-long fangs protruding from the reptile's jaw.

  Dorius, dripping wet, tried to dry his hair on Camillio's shirt. Camillio pulled his shirt free, muttering to himself as he walked over to Marcus who was on his haunches examining the reptile fangs.

  Paul appeared around the side of the house, strutting across the cement patio onto the dock, butt-ass naked with a wriggling fox in his hands. "I've got another one here. It tried to take a chunk out of my ass." He turned, showing the four men and the troll two long gashes across his derrière.

  Marcus grabbed the fox by the scruff of its neck, its eyes blazing red. It squirmed and hissed with large fangs extended. "Dorius, how could this be possible? They both have blood-sucking fangs."

  Dorius squeegeed his wet hair between dirty fingers, pulling out bits of green slime. "How the hell do I know?"

  "Do you think… this gator… turned the women?" The troll set the reptile's head on the edge of the dock, then sank back into the water. The top of his head inched up from the lake until his eyes peeked out.

  "Great, there goes the species," Warren muttered.

  "Better… yours… than mine." Mort's brow-less forehead wiggled, bubbles boiled around his slate gray lips and water escaped between his toothy, algae-coated smile.

  "Where the hell were you, mutt? Didn't you hear me whistle?" Dorius flung his hair over wet shoulders with a moss-covered hand, his leather pants squeaking as he sloshed toward Paul.

  "Sorry. I had a fox attached to my ass." Paul ran a hand over his butt, checking for blood. He turned and smiled at Dorius, wiggling his fingers in front of his face. "At least it's started healing. Gibbie's in the boat. I should hear from him as soon as they settle somewhere. I'll have them back before sunrise, Dorius."

  "I will be joining you and the fairy, but first I'm going inside to shower and change." Dorius scowled at Paul, making shoulder contact as he forced his way by. "Get dressed. I'm not going to watch you swagger around with your cock swinging."

  "If you need dry clothes, I suggest Zaire's. She's about your size and has a lust for leather." Paul grinned, watching Dorius leave a trail of water and slime as he headed for the house.

  "Easy wolf, I'm in an unpleasant mood," Dorius growled back.

  "I want to know how this fox became immortal." Marcus twisted the animal's neck and severed its head in one quick movement.

  "Do you think those women are capable of turning animals into immortals?" Camillio pointed at the bloody mess with a scowl.

  "Let's not jump to conclusions, Camillio," Paul said. "Just because we've never run across any immortal animals, doesn't mean it can't be done."

  "It can't be done. We've tried it in the lab," Camillio rebutted. "No one, not even our Seraphs, the cream of our crop, have been able to turn animals."

  Warren growled, "I'll tell you one thing, I think we need to call in reinforcements if these women did this. The black one could be some voodoo princess or something."

  A rumbling laugh fell from the troll's mouth.

  "Did any of you stop to think that maybe the animals turned the women?" Paul glared at both immortals.

  "I believe… I asked… that question." The troll leaned his crusty chin on the edge of the dock with a green toothy smirk for all of them.

  "Whoever turned this fox and that gator is much more than a mere immortal. There's demon-blood in the one capable of this," Marcus said. "I don't believe it's possible without it. Moreover, since we know that all Seraph immortals have unusual powers, it makes sense that whoever did this is a very special immortal. There are only ten Seraphs in the world that we know of, and Dorius and I are still testing their capabilities."

  Marcus tossed both pieces of the fox into the lake, kicking the gator in after it. He leaned down, dunking his bloody hands in the water, shaking them dry as he watched the carnage float around the troll.

  Dorius' baritone voice wafted out of a screened window, under the balcony by the back po
rch, in a cloud of steam. I can't get no-o…da-da…naa…na… Sat-is-fac-tion… no-no-noo-oo…

  Everyone looked toward the window.

  Paul turned to Marcus. "Walk with me a minute."

  The oldest immortal and the wolf strolled off the dock toward the woods. As soon as they were out of site, Paul stopped, turning to Marcus.

  "I don't think we need a lynch mob, boss. Let me go after them myself. I've talked to these women and I don't think they killed that woman in the restroom. Dorius seems to be taking this too personally. He's out for some kind of revenge."

  "I don't know how long I can hold him, but I agree," Marcus said. "These immortals are too new. The little show on the boat tells me they have no idea what they're capable of. If one of them turned these animals by mistake, and I believe that's exactly what happened, we will certainly want to get them back to BAMVC and test their blood. They could be Seraphs with unusual powers. Just think what that would mean to our clan if we can harness that power." Marcus had a faraway look in his eyes.

  Paul watched him intently. "Why are you here Marcus?"

  "Let's just say I have a desire to see who these women are. I'm going to the house to do some snooping around. You take off and see if you can find the fairy," Marcus said, turning on his heal.

  "Dorius is not going to be happy about our decision," Paul said.

  "Dorius won't be a problem. Just make sure you call him as soon as you find them. I wouldn't want a band of Rogue Hunters arriving at the doorstep before we have the little scamps in custody." Marcus smiled, one eyebrow cocked, his eyes sparkling with little bits of silver spinning around the blue irises.

  Joe's Marina is a bar/restaurant/fish-camp with cabins. They mostly rent out to locals who want to get away from the wife and kids, go on a weekend binge and drive boats around the lake, fishing poles forgotten in a drunken stupor. On the weekends, you really needed to motor around the area with care, so as not to get involved in their aquatic rendition of bumper cars.

  "I know the owner, Carl," Jeni said, batting her eyes. "He's a peach. I sang at his piano bar last week. He loves me."

  "They have a piano in there?" I asked, looking at the rundown wooden building.

  "Yes, and it's lovely. A black baby grand." Jeni climbed out of the boat.

  "No shit," Zaire remarked as she joined her. "This, I gotta see."

  "I'd be a bit low-keyed if I were you guys." I frowned at Resi's T-shirt with 'I had a crush on Pippi Longstockings' clearly emblazoned across her chest.

  "Screw that," Zaire spat, pulling Resi out of the boat. "I'm gay. She's mine and I'm damn proud of it."

  Mom tugged on my shirt. "Can we get something to eat before we hole up for the night? You can't war on an empty stomach, Susan." She had the bumper in a death grip.

  I glared at her. "No biting! What the hell are we doing here, Jennifer? I'm in no mood to fight a bunch of homophobic rednecks." I pulled my mother and her bumper out of the boat.

  "Carl has a cabin on the Dora Canal and he's offered to let us use it." Jeni gently took the bumper from Mom, tossing it back in the boat. "We just need to go in, have a quick drink, make nice and get the key. Now let's pull the boat around behind the dock so it can't be seen from the lake."

  "Jennifer, unless those immortals have a boat and know the chain of lakes, it will be hours before they find us. Shit, there are miles of shoreline on Lake Harris alone, never mind the interconnected waterways."

  "Better to be safe than sorry, Mother Dearest." Jeni was once again being her pain in the ass logical self.

  "Come on Zaire, let's hide the frigging boat." I ended the argument.

  Mom sniffed the air, "It smells good in there. You think they got pizza?"

  Gibbie, wedged in the side compartment of the boat with the fishing poles, listened to the women's conversation as they walked away, then carefully tried to squirm around the fishhooks and monofilament, but snagged his wing on the burr of a hook.

  He twisted around until he could grab it, gently pulling it free. "Great, just great. This will take weeks to mend," he grumbled as he leered at a small hole.

  Fluttering his wings in a high-pitched buzz, he flew toward the bar. He hovered around a large oak as the women walked into the back door of the bar. "I better get time and a half for that little trip. Paul's going to hear about this, I tell you." He buzzed off toward the lake.

  The minute I entered the bar, I put my hand over my nose. The place smelled like a hooker trying to cover up crotch rot. A flowery aerosol bathroom spray tangoed with the smell of frying fish, cigarette smoke and way too many body odors.

  JoAnn just kept walking right toward a door with a restroom sign above it, while the rest of us sat at a table in the corner with mix-matched chairs.

  Almost everyone in the room was crowded around the piano, shoved into a corner. An older man tickled the keys as an assortment of off-tune singers' chucked fried food into their mouths between choruses.

  The server walked up looking like she needed an introduction to a bar of soap. Her hair - teased into a style that reminded me of our rose bushes - smelled of cigarette smoke and stale beer. Her nails were bitten down to half colored lavender nubs. Dark plum lipstick filled in the cracks above and beside lips that were pencil enhanced in a garish pout. "Hi-ya-all, I'm Stella. Whaddya’all want from the bar?" she asked, pencil poised.

  I definitely felt out of place.

  Paul stripped off his clothes and tossed them in his Corvette. He pulled his car keys off the dash and plucked his fanny-pack out of the backseat. He pointed his remote at the center console and the door locks clicked. He tossed his keys, cell phone and wallet in the fanny-pack, zipped it closed, clipped the strap shut and hung it over a limb near the car.

  Paul lay down on the damp grass. His body began to vibrate. With popping noises, grunts and groans, he transformed into the large black wolf.

  The wolf got up and shook its massive body. He pushed his muzzle under the strap of the fanny pack and it slid around his neck as he trotted toward the lake.

  Paul threw back his head and howled. He pranced in front of the lake, his eyes trained on the horizon.

  Panting, he padded in the shallow water with his tail at attention, butt swaying, and ears straight up. He sniffed the air as he trotted along whimpering. He tossed his head in the air and howled again.

  "For the love of Jiminy Cricket, I hear you. Can you stop with the whining?"

  The wolf turned to the buzzing fairy and growled.

  "Glad you phased. It's a long trot to the fish camp. Let's get going before they high tail it out of there." In a flutter of wings, the fairy took off following the shoreline.

  The wolf leapt over cypress knees along the water's edge, following in hot pursuit.

  My mother lay sprawled across the top of the piano, her ass hanging out for the whole group of toothless rednecks to ogle.

  "Saint Lo-o-oouey women, with a yearn for men, went to bed with her…," Mom crooned, rolling on her stomach, her feet crossed at the ankle, pumped toward the curve of her butt cheeks peeking out from under her short skirt.

  "This is a frigging nightmare," I said, grinding off a few layers of tooth enamel with equal parts of nausea, horror, and embarrassment.

  "…fou-n-tain pen… The pen was broken, fell…"

  "Someone hide me." JoAnn's look matched mine.

  "Can we hurry Stella along with the check?" Resi asked, looking around the bar.

  "Nanna's showing some ass, girl," Zaire said, grinning at Resi.

  "Jennifer, I feel now would be a good time to get those keys from Carl," I suggested.

  "Now… Saint lou-uuy women… got a bro-o-o-ken heart." Mom finished, rolled over and swung her legs over the piano. She pulled a dirty baseball cap covered with fishing lures off the man between her legs. He smiled up at her through a mouthful of pink gums. She put the cap on her head backwards and leaned in to give him a kiss.

  I gagged, thinking I needed to make sure she brushed her teet
h as soon as we got to wherever we were staying tonight.

  Mom jumped from the piano in a flourish of red t-back, smiled and waved at a crowd of men, cat calling and booing at having been abandoned. She wiggled over to our table, bent over, her half-naked ass in my face, and shook her bulbous breasts at the men still yelling obscene descriptions of desire at her from the piano.

  "Swell, so much for being inconspicuous," I whispered.

  We were on our third round of drinks when Carl walked over to Jeni. He handed her a key attached to a green tag with the number four on it.

  "There you go girly-girl. I got the electric turned on yesterday, aired the place out all day, and then closed it up this morning. It's nice and cool, and the icebox is full. I also left the back door light on so you can see it from the canal. Enjoy." He winked at Jeni.

  "Thanks Carl." Jeni smiled up at him.

  "You wanna use my van? The waterways are awful dark this time of night," Carl asked, shaking the car keys.

  "No, we'll be fine. We have running lights and a good spot light. I think we can manage. It's the park off 441, right? The one in the Dora Canal, past the dock on Lake Eustis?"

  "Yep, at the end of the canal. Only cabin out there, probably nobody around for miles, so it's very private. I don't think your sister's boyfriend will find you tonight. You can stick around until the police pick him up." Carl turned a smile of sympathy in JoAnn's direction as he walked away.

  "All righty then," Zaire said, looking at JoAnn with a big smile.

  The rest of us turned to Jeni.

  "Don't ask. I had to come up with something. Sorry Aunt JoAnn," Jeni said, her shoulders reaching for her ears.

  "Couldn't you have used your mother as an excuse? Now I'll never be able to face that man again. I bet he thinks I'm trailer park trash." JoAnn pouted.

  "Look around you. I think this crowd does ass-hole control on a daily basis," I remarked with a saucy grin.

  "Let's just get out of here. I'm so embarrassed." JoAnn sidled toward the back door, her hands in front of her face.

 

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