by Jasmine Walt
I go into deep breathing, meditative mode. No use in telling her to watch her mouth, or that she’s a little pint-sized ingrate… Nah, that’s counterproductive. After my last deep breath, I say, “I’m serious, Sadie. Your mother would want you here, and she’d want you to be safe.”
Sadie turns her gaze on me, and I raise an eyebrow. Yeah, I played the dead mom card. She’ll probably play the mom killer card, but I’m ready.
“I see you’re doing it again.” She purses her lips. “And I haven’t seen any dying or elderly around this place… So, is this the old you?”
I just stare.
She leans toward me. “Good. You should just kill them all. Why don’t you? You’re stronger. Why are you working with them instead of just getting them out of the way and taking the cure by yourself?
I continue to stare. I haven’t really thought about it. Now that I do, I suppose I could. Could make Juliet tell me what it is; I already know the where it is. I could sing every Council member into death or submission. Sure, there’s the thing in my neck…keeping track of me and probably threatening my life in some way, but it’s not like I couldn’t figure it out.
The biggest reason is the threat to Sadie. But, if I killed all of them…
No, I have a reason to play it their way, I’m just not sure it’s a good one.
“Listen,” I say, scratching my eyebrow with my pinky nail. “I’m working with them, because it’s right. Not that I have to explain myself to you.” I put on my hard face. “Now, stay out of grown folks business, and promise me.”
For several moments neither of us speak.
Finally, I sigh and say, “I want that promise before you leave.” I stand and put the bracelet back on the table beside her. “You have two days.”
I manage a few hours of sleep before it’s time to start the next day. After breakfast, we gather outside and run more drills, more target practice, more learning about end of the world threats. I listen, do as I’m told, and get through it on autopilot.
After lunch, I think it’s going to be more of the same. I tune out Juliet’s rambling. Then, she holds up a trident in front of me.
I blink several times, then glance over at her. “What’s this for?”
She smiles. “It’s for you.”
I slide my gaze up and down the weapon. It’s badass for sure, jet-black, with a dark blue polish. It looks half ancient, half modern. The prongs are old school. The buttons along the shaft are clearly modern.
I shrug. “What I’m supposed to do with it?”
From where he is, on the other side of Kiwi, Tripp chortles.
“I was just saying that your abilities won’t always help you against some of the more powerful displaced descendants out there. Guns won’t do the job either. As such, we’ve managed to secure a few magic weapons that should be effective.”
I glance sidelong at my teammates. Tripp isn’t holding shit, but he turns into a huge monster, so I guess that’s his weapon. Kiwi is strapping a pair of copper colored, steam punk looking goggles over her eyes.
I turn my gaze back to Juliet. “That’s one of Poseidon’s. I am not a mermaid.” I wave her off. “I’ll make due with guns and guitars.”
She sighs and reaches for my hand. I start to tell her to back off, but she’s quick in placing my hand on the shaft of the weapon. It cools under my touch. I turn to stare at it. It sparks electric blue and spits something out of the middle spear.
I jump back, so that Juliet is left holding it. Tripp laughs hard, and Kiwi just sucks on her teeth.
“Come on, siren. Let’s just get this over with.”
I glance over at her rolling her eyes, then stumble forward and take the trident.
“Where did you even get this?” I turn it over in my hands, trying not to display how surprised I am by its feel. It takes me back to the first time I held my guitar. Feels like I know how to use this thing. Like it belongs to me.
“We have Scouters. They recovered a lot of weapons such as these.”
I stare back at the weapon. She asks if there are any more questions and I shake my head. She claps, and we start more drills.
I don’t get how this weapon is suited for me, but I like using it. Each button I press unlocks a new function. Lightening dances from the tips when I hold down the silver button. Rushes of water that I can command come with the press of the blue button. I feel like an old school gladiator. You know, if they let brothas into the arena like that.
Not only do I like using it, I’m pretty frickin’ good at it. I train with it, going up against Kiwi and practicing on the wooden mannequins in our training space, until my muscles shake. Until sweat streams into my eyes, blinding me. Until I feel like the only thing I can do next is fall over.
Smoke from the crackling fire spirals upward toward the false sky. At first, our farewell party doesn’t look like much. Then, Tripp reaches into his bag of party tricks and convinces a Spirit to conjure up some wine, and everyone livens up. The Enforcers allow this. I guess even they can look the other way for the people saving their asses.
It’s good to know.
Once people start getting their drink on, they stop standing around looking at each other. A good amount of people showed, human and descendant alike. I sit back with my rationed water and take everything in.
Still nothing from Sadie. I’d say what that makes her, but she’s only a kid. I stare into the fire, thinking back to the first time I saw her land a triple axel. I can almost see her, landing on those hollow blades and the smile that lit up her face, dancing in the flames. It makes me grin. Then, booming laughter snags my attention. I cut my gaze to the left and spot Tripp and the wine making Spirit wrapped in each other’s arms. The wine maker is barking out laughter.
With a chuckle, I take a swig of water. I lift my arm to wave at them when a shadow casts itself on the ground in front of me. I glance up to find who created it.
“Hi.” A sexy little blonde thing flips her hair. “I’m Amber.”
Of course you are.
I smile and point at myself. “Pike.” This is the fourth one that’s approached me in ten minutes.
“Hi, Pike.” She rolls her tongue over her shimmery lips.
I try to smile again, but I’m just not feeling her. Or anyone else at this party.
“What’s up.” I glance everywhere but at her. Then, I point over her head at nothing. “Ah, shit. I see…” I jump up and sidestep the fire, disappearing into the crowd at the other side. When I turn, Amber is standing by herself, pouting in my general direction. I would feel bad, but I’m in no mood to chat up some girl tonight.
There is a tap on my shoulder. I spin around, dribbling water down the front of myself.
“Oops, be careful there, Pike.”
It’s Tripp. Now he’s got some beefy mixed looking dude hanging from his neck. They’re both cheesing hard enough to break a camera lens.
I pat at the water with my free hand. “Yeah, that’s my bad.” There is an edge of sarcasm in my tone. With a smile, I ask, “What’s up wit cha?”
“Not much.” Tripp lifts his arms, and the guy around his neck stumbles into his side. “I just wanted to give you one more chance with this ass, you know…” He smiles and gestures at drunk dude. “Before it becomes his.”
I laugh and reach out to clap drunk dude on the shoulder. He almost topples over when I do. Tripp and I steady him, and I go to cup his face.
“Fine piece of ass you landed, man.” I let him go and place my hands several inches apart. “I heard it’s like, this big.” I whistle, then turn on the balls of my feet and walk away. As I do, I call, “Don’t be up all night,” over my shoulder at Tripp.
His inebriated laughter echoes in the air as I finish making my way through the crowd. Turning around slightly to glance back over my shoulder, I take a final look at the party before climbing the stairs to duck inside.
Once inside, I lean against the back of the front door and let my eyes slide close. I stand t
here, trying to still the swarm of buzzing thoughts in my skull, when a low female voice rolls through my ears. My eyes pop open, then narrow.
What sounds like low arguing is coming from the living room around the corner. I take a step forward. There is a hissing noise, like a snake. Then there is a shh.
I’m on my tiptoes as I round the corner. I grip the side of the wall and peek my head into the living room, expecting to see at least two people.
All I find is Kiwi sitting on the couch with her eyes squeezed shut, a worn novel in her hands.
“I know.” She hisses. “Just back off.”
My eyes widen. Looks like Kiwi is cray-cray. I clear my throat, and she jumps.
“Mother truck stop!” Her eyes pop open to large white orbs, and she slams her book with a loud smack. “You scared me!”
A laugh stops the obvious question from passing my lips. “Mother what?” I round the corner and raise an eyebrow.
Her eyes squint so hard they almost disappear. “You scared me.”
I hold up my hands. “My bad.” I glance around the room, and back at her. “Was someone just here? Or…”
She hisses. “Yes, he just got here. And he should go away.”
Inching a few steps toward her, I ask, “Were you talking to yourself?”
She scoffs and tucks her bang behind her ear. Her arms fold across her chest and she fixes her gaze off to the side of the room.
“Of course not.”
Then she mumbles a stream of something I can’t make out and makes faces like a five-year-old.
I whistle.
Bitches be crazy.
Her eyes snap back to me.
And scary. I gulp.
“You still here?”
I ease farther into the room, like one of the white guys on the shows Sadie used to watch on her laptop approaching a wild beast. The ones that are always British, or British adjacent.
I throw an arm in front of me, defensively. “You a’ight?”
She points a blood red polished finger behind me. “Out.” Then she holds her book back in front of my face.
I squint against the yellowish light of the lantern beside her as I inch closer. “Jane Eyre,” I say after seeing the title. I grin a little. “Ah shit, girl. That’s my jam.” I cross the room and plop down beside her. “Have you made it to the first tense scene between Jane and Rochester?” With a wink, I hold my arms at my sides and thrust my hips. “Dude wants to tap it.”
She shuts the book again and squeezes her eyes shut. Fury rolls off her in waves, pun intended. I stop thrusting and stare as she rubs the skin above her nose and breathes in and out.
I lean away. I don’t want her to flip out and try and make me kill myself again.
“My bad,” I say lightly, trying to dissolve her tension. “I should have said spoiler alert.”
Her head jerks at me and the thick bang falls back over her eye. A spark of red flashes deep from the dark of her eyes, then flickers out, like a dot from a laser pointer shutting off. I clamp down on my lower lip.
“Why are you doing this?”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Trying to be my friend. Do you sense anything…” She shakes her head slightly, like she’s trying to rattle the rest of her question to her lips. “Do you sense anything friendly in me when you’re around?”
I grin. Kiwi has claws.
“No, not really.”
“Then why bother?”
I can’t tell from her etched from stone expression if she’s being serious. She sounds less harsh. Curious. I don’t risk dipping into her for a taste because last time I felt her I almost clawed my face off. Clearing my throat, I half shrug.
“Last night before we leave this place to face death.” I shrug my shoulders up further. “Our lives will be in each other’s hands… figured it might increase survival odds if you like me.”
Her expression settles into something a fraction livelier than still water. A low fraction.
“I don’t need to like you to have your back.” She starts to open her book again. When I don’t respond, she lets her gaze drift back to her novel. As she does she mutters, “Don’t have a voice.”
I lean toward her slightly.
Don’t have a voice. A choice?
“What was that?” I say, trying to keep the frustration out of my tone.
She just rolls her shoulders and makes a low air running out of a tire noise. Not a hiss. Just a low whistle of exasperation. My frustration mounts with each second she ignores me.
Finally I clap and ask, “Wanna bang?”
Her head turns slowly with a kind of I know-he-didn’t reflex. “I don’t. Like you. Why would I want to…” She flicks her tongue across her lips. “Bang?” Her nose scrunches at the end of her question, and I smile.
Can’t help it.
That’s the difference between female things and male things. We don’t have to like you to fuck you. Not at all. I don’t bother explaining this to Kiwi.
“You sure? Might be our last shot.”
“I’d rather get fisted by a grogan.”
What the actual deuce you drop after a late night of Taco Bell kind of crap is that to say? For some reason, I have to stop the smile that starts to curl my lips. Shaking my head, I stand and wave as a farewell gesture.
I don’t get a reaction of acknowledgment, so I scoff and trudge out of the room.
I consider going back outside to reel in one of the females that were nipping at me earlier. But I don’t want to. I’m not really a womanizer; I’ve just had a lot of relations. Side effect of being a siren.
I’m not feeling it tonight. I drop my feet heavily on the stairs as I head to my room. The footsteps echo rhythmically, letting my mind tunnel, then expand like a firecracker. By the time I reach my room, I find a female I didn’t even realize I needed to see.
Not in the actual room but in the space inside my head. The slot that the submitted slide into.
Juliet’s icy eyes regard me as they always do. There is no wiping away that poker face. I can feel her changed, though only slightly. I don’t know if it’s because I yanked her out and found shallow waters, or if it’s because I allowed her more autonomy than my last submissive.
For the mission’s sake.
Now I need something. Something I’ve been avoiding.
“Sadie still hasn’t come by.” I avert my gaze. Am I ashamed? Annoyed? Unable to look the psycho that tortured me as easily as some people paint by number, in the eyes yet? Not without ripping the life out of her and delighting in that monster piece of myself instead of steering it away?
Doesn’t matter. She nods.
“I will make sure she’s there at breakfast in the morning.”
My mouth gapes and the words thank you flit through my head. I beat them away. I clap one hand on top of a closed fist and nod, glancing back up. “Good. That’ll do it.”
Her mouth starts to part, and I shut my mind to the size of a pinpoint before I hear what she was going to say. Can’t deal with Juliet too much. Not tonight.
I have some shit to face. Something I should have manned up about a long time ago. I lay in bed and string words together in my head. Words that need saying. Words that might be the difference in who, or what, I wind up being.
12
Something digs into my shoulder and rips me from the pit hole of a nightmare. My eyes snap open, and I struggle to a half seated and sweaty position.
“Pike?” Something whispers my name. Low. Terse.
My gaze darts around the room until it lands on a form slightly lighter than the pitch-black room.
“It’s me, Kiwi.”
A switch clicks. Darkness is washed away, replaced by dim, yellow light.
I close my eyes and grab my chest. “What. The fuck?”
“Didn’t mean to scare you.”
I let my lids rise slowly, giving my eyes time to adjust. My heart time to stop punching my insides. Whatever I was going to say hangs from my lower ja
w when I see that she’s wrapped loosely in a bed sheet.
And that’s it.
Her plump mouth is pressed together, making her lips swell. Her expression is cautious. Maybe. I have to guess what’s happening because she doesn’t say anything.
I throw an arm over my knee and lean over it. “Okay…” I start to ask the obvious when she lets the blanket fall to the floor.
I hear a typical R&B song about fine asses and thighs, then my mind blanks. She steps closer, blocking the flickering lantern light, and perches one knee up on the bed.
I’m surprised my mouth doesn’t water.
She sighs and gives me an almost resigned look. “Look, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve…” Her eyebrows lift toward her hairline and I nod. She presses her lips together like that’s enough.
She inches for me like she’s testing pool water. Like she’s deciding if she can just jump in or not. I can’t do anything but stare like I’ve never seen a naked female.
Which is a huge ass compliment to her and every tempting inch of skin I can’t pry my gaze from. She has that kind of body that makes you do things you know you shouldn’t.
I struggle to maintain eye contact. It’s almost doable. The red smudges around her jet almond eyes glint like they could burn into you at any second.
Which in her case, is not a clever Muse metaphor.
Her breath hitches right before she touches me. Her head tilts against her shoulder. “So, you in?”
I extend a hand to her. “EWB.”
The flirt of a grin touches her lips. “What?”
I almost wink but my head swims. “Enemies with benefits, girl.” My voice comes out just above a whisper.
She nods, then pushes me back onto the bed and straddles my chest. My muscles tighten with electricity. Unlike her temperament, she’s soft, a west wind. My hands go for her waist. I dig my fingers into her flesh, not rough, but not gentle.
She stifles a gasp. “What do you want, Pike?” She raises one eyebrow, and I feel a rise of excitement. I swallow and try to get some of my smooth back.
“I want,” I say, tightening my grip, “to make you come,” I breathe the rest out. Her eyes glaze over. Legs tighten at my sides. I hit on something she likes.