by Diana Graves
I swallowed hard and started back down the road to the hotel, tears running down my face. I had it all: two amazing children and three wonderful men, a family who loved me. If there was a better cause to die for, I couldn’t think of it. In truth I was planning on fighting for my life. I’d give those men hell and survive if I could, but I was a realist. The odds were in their favor, not mine. I wasn’t suicidal, but this was a suicide mission.
The cold October air grew warm and electric and suddenly there was a demon in my path. Raphael.
“What are you doing here? I know you aren’t here to talk me out of leaving,” I said as I walked past him.
“No, I’m not going to talk you out of it,” he said with his hands in his pockets. Again he was dressed in a geek chic sort of way with worn jeans and a tweed jacket. He jogged lightly to catch up to me. “Are you planning on driving?” he asked.
“I can’t think of a better way to get off a mountain,” I said.
“You’re going to drive past the wedding party, are you? Undetected by your friends and family, to say nothing of the law enforcement?”
I stopped walking and looked at him. “What are you getting at?”
“I can get you where you want to go faster, undetected. Poof,” he said.
I bit my lip and thought about what he said. He was right. There was no way I’d get through this town without drawing attention to myself. I nodded, “Alright. Poof me,” I said.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked with a smirk.
“Home, take me home,” I said. They’d find me faster there I supposed and I wanted to get this over with.
“I knew you’d say that,” he said with all sorts of devious inflection in his voice. My brows pinched in thought before he grabbed my arm tight, so tight that it hurt.
MY TRAP
MY ENTIRE BODY was clenched, a rigid thing, hot electric vibrations rung through my bones. My muscles felt pulled in every which direction, as though they were being ripped from me. I felt I was moving, yet I wasn’t, or was I? Searing wind rushed around me, through me, until it all stopped, just stopped. Finally the world stood still and I fought to find my bearings. My insides were boiling and aching as the electric tearing sensation began to fade. Little by little I could focus on things outside of the pain and the first thing I noted was the cold hard wood under my hands. My body was still so hot that I feared opening my eyes for a moment longer. I took in a shaking breath of air and I could smell a man’s cologne. It was something smothering and cheap, and I’d smelt it before but I couldn’t place where or on whom. Beyond the cologne I smelled books and wood and dust and I could hear a man breathing. When I trusted my eyes not to sting when I opened them, I lifted my head and looked around the dark room.
I was in my library, my home office. Everything was in its proper place, but the carpet was gone It’s been ripped up to reveal dark wood flooring. I was kneeling on my hands and knees in the middle of a large circle carved into the wood just in front of my desk, and I couldn’t move! My hands and knees were stuck where they were. Panic began to take over as I fought to move. Little white flowers fell to the floor as I thrashed myself in a fevered frenzy. I heard a man laugh and I looked up, blowing the loose strands of hair out of my face.
“Who’s there?!” I shouted.
Henry leaned forward in my chair and over my desk to look down at me. I didn’t bother to hide my shock.
“You?” I asked.
“Me,” he said. “But I don’t think I am who you think I am, if you’re thinking I am who I think you think I am.” He paused for a moment to consider his words, looking up and mouthing the phrase again. I was confused. He visibly gave up and waved the words away with a hand. “I’m not Orestes, if that’s who you think I am.”
“You work with him?” I asked.
He laughed again. “No, I’m just Henry, a lowly bounty hunter like yourself—well, not like you.” He pushed back from the desk in my swivel chair and wheeled himself out from behind it and over to the edge of the circle.
“What are you doing here?”
“My job,” he said as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the front pocket of his grey shirt. He took a long red cigarette from the pack and lit it with a decorative metal lighter. Beyond the flame I looked into his squinting eyes. He stuffed the pack back into his pocket before continuing. “You trusted the wrong person.” He excelled the smoke from his nose. “I’ve been hunting you for months, keeping close, waiting for the go ahead from the boss.”
“Boss?”
“Maybe Knight was right. He thought you’d be an easy kill. He wanted to cut off your pretty head as soon as the baby came out, but we made him wait. Wait until you were good and alone. You keep some impressive friends. I thought that made you tough shit, but you aren’t, are you?”
“You were waiting for Isobel to be born? But, The Hunt. I don’t understand!”
“I know,” he said as he relaxed back in my chair and took another long drag of his cigarette. “Won’t be long now. We’re just waiting on my boys. Then it will all be over.” And he exhaled the smoke out the corner of his mouth.
“You can’t just off me yourself?” Not that I wanted him to…
He laughed, “I wouldn’t deprive my men of a kill. Not when they’ve been such good sports. They played by the rules, same as me. So we’ll share in the reward.”
“Rules?”
“The boss’s rules.”
I had to stifle a frustrated laugh. I’d been duped. There were no super powerful fucking hunters; just these shit for brain, ass hates. Damon would kill all four of them without breaking a sweat. Mato would tear them apart! Alistair would roast them alive! But they couldn’t anything for me, because they weren’t here. Because I believed that I needed to sacrifice myself. Because I believed…Raphael.
Henry sat back with a smug smile on his wide face. “The boss…” he began.
“Raphael,” I interrupted.
Henry’s smile widened and he slapped his leg. “You see! Very good. I knew you weren’t as thick as they said you were.”
I shook my head. “Raphael hired you to kill me. Why?” I asked.
He shrugged but said, “Because you’re some kind of weapon or something.”
“Weapon?” How am I a weapon? “What the hell does that mean? Why couldn’t he just kill me himself if he wants me dead? Why play this game? Why create this lie about The Hunt?”
“No, the hunt was real. At first. Raphael was happy that the Gods would do the job for him, but then you dodged it. Well done, by the way. Afterward he just used it as a way to get you alone. Did you ever notice how you’re almost never alone? That’s weird, right? I mean, I don’t think you know about all the vampires and shit lurking outside your house and following you around all the time, but damn. I think we’d have an easier time trying to assassinate the god damn president of the United States.” I was being followed? You’d think I’d notice that shit.
“Why get me pregnant at all? Why put Adia’s soul in my unborn baby?”
“I don’t know anything about any soul. Maybe he explained it to me, but shit if I understand that angel sometimes. He said you were a weapon and had to die. Period. He told us what to say and do to keep you unfocussed, too emotional to think straight. The family in the river; that was us.”
“You’re fucking monsters!” I yelled at him.
“Hey! Orders are orders. You should just be thankful that our orders were to kill you only after the baby was born.” There was a loud beeping sound coming from his front pants pocket. “Hot Damn. They’re here.” He took his cell phone out and looked at it. “What took them so damn long? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad we had this time to just chat, you and I. IN HERE!” he yelled past me.
The door slammed open and the other three hunters strode in. They were carrying long thick swords.
“’Bout fucking time,” growled Ass. He looked down at me. “Told you I’d see you again; I just couldn’t play pretend anymore
.”
“Wait! I don’t understand,” I yelled.
Knight lifted his sword, ready to swing it down on me. “What don’t you get? We’re killing you!”
“No!” I screamed and I pushed out all the fire I could muster. White flames burst from me, creating a deafening roar that incinerated my clothes and what flowers remained in my hair. I pushed the fire up and out to destroy them all! I let it burn good and long, until I had nothing left. When I finally let the fire die the first thing I heard was laughter. I looked up at them and they were just standing there, laughing at me.
“Raphael drew this circle himself. You can’t send anything out of it, no fire and no Obi Wan Kenobi shit,” said Ass.
“I’m sorry, Raina Annabella Kirkland,” said Henry before he inclined his head to the other men and their long swords came down on me.
“No!” I screamed and I tried to melt the swords with fire before they hit my skin, but I couldn’t get the fire hot enough fast enough and sharp metal sliced through my legs, back and shoulders. They chopped at me and my body crumbled to the floor under the weight of their piercing blows, a bloody, torn ruin. But still they brought their swords down on me again and again. Only seconds, that was how long I was conscious in pieces on the hardwood floor before the world went dark.
PLANET HELL
I COULD SMELL grass and soil and all the musky scents of the outdoors on a warm day. I opened my eyes and found myself lying on my stomach in the midst of a dewy meadow. My body was whole and nude and I sat up and looked around. The sounds of the wilderness were beautiful: birds, frogs and all sorts of critters. White glowing fireflies burned bright all around me. Looking up I found the sky an odd shade of green with fast moving rolling clouds of purest white.
I was surprised that my voice worked at all when I asked out loud, “Where am I?”
I didn’t expect an answer but I got one. “That depends on who you ask,” said a lovely voice, a woman’s voice, but there was no body to go along with that voice, none that I could find. I stood and looked deeper into the wilderness. “Some call this place Hell, others call it the Underworld, or Tartarus. I call it home.”
Hell? So, I was dead and this was my afterlife. Had I earned eternal hell? Maybe. I’d killed a lot of people, bad people, but people all the same. However, Hell didn’t look all that bad. Laughter erupted around me.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I’m your godmother, Raina.” And, suddenly she was there. Melpomene stood in the grass, a tall nude woman with dark hair and burning red eyes. “We don’t have a lot of time. I must warn you that there is a war coming, a war that we’ve been fighting for millions of years, between Gods who regret the creation of humankind and want to eradicate you all and those who want to keep you safe, safe but in chains. You, Raina, must find a way to stop either side from winning.”
A chill ran through my body. “How?”
“Leaders of both sides will seek you out. Cut off the head and the body will flounder. Kill Apollo; kill Trivia and all their pawns. You can do it. I’ve put that power inside you.” Her words were so full of command that they raised the hairs on my arms. “I wish I could help you, but this place is my prison, as it is the prison of all angels and Gods who would see humankind live free. Fight for it, Raina; fight mass genocide, fight slavery.”
I would have asked how and why and a million other questions I had congesting my mind and making me dumb, but a razor sharp pain shot through me. I couldn’t see or hear or feel anything but mind numbing pain, but I could taste. I could taste blood. I wanted to scream. I wanted to move but all I could do was taste the blood and scream my thoughts, my confusion. One moment I was in a beautiful meadow with my godmother and the next I was in a silent dark nightmare, nothing but blood and pain. Was this Hell?
No, I could smell cinnamon. I could smell coffee and cinnamon and yes, beyond that I could smell blood and raw meat. I heard cursing; someone was cursing. It was a man…Nick! He was cursing softly.
I felt the sharp stabbing pain again and again and I tried to scream. I put all my will behind it and eventually something close to a cry came out. I heard it and Nick did too!
“Raina, calm down, don’t move. I’m almost done,” I heard him say. “Fucking Raphael! Goddess damn that motherfucker!”
I tried to force my eyes open, but I could only move one eye lid. I was in a dark room, lying on a bed or something and Nick was stitching me up. I watched him with clenched teeth reach deep into a white bucket and pull out a tiny piece of meat.
“That’s the baby toe,” I heard an old woman say from some place out of view. I recognized that voice! She was Kamaria, a sweet old woman who owned a café near my mom’s house. She’d always treated us kids like family, never accepting our money and always looking out for us. Why was she with Nick stitching me together after Raphael’s men butchered me? What happened after I died?! How long had I been dead?!
I watched Nick hold the meat on my foot and stab me with a needle and thread and I screamed.
“Bite down on this,” said Kamaria, coming into view. She placed a piece of wood in my mouth. She was wearing a blue summer dress with all her white hair up in curlers. “That’s the last bit, dearie.”
Nick came into view, inches from my face. He took the piece of wood out of my mouth. “What’s happened, Nick? Where am I? What’s going on?” I said slowly with much difficulty through stubborn, oddly shaped half numb lips.
He smiled down at me with tears clinging to his eye lashes. “You’re back.”
♦
SAMPLE BOOK 4!
DEADLY ENCOUNTERS: CHAPTER ONE
“HELLO?” I CALLED out as loud as I could, which wasn’t all that loud. In fact, it was a downright whisper. I gave myself a mental slap. Let’s try that again, and this time with more earnest efforts. “Hello?” I called out. For goddess’ sake, how many times did a girl have to die to get some attention around here?
I heard footsteps coming closer, but I couldn’t turn my head to see who it was. I was lying in the dark, hurt, unable to move, hardly able to speak at all. I didn’t like being so vulnerable, so you could imagine the wash of relief I felt when an old friend peered down at me. Kamaria’s hair was white with age and up in curlers. Her floral summer dress was soaked with sweat and blood; my blood, her sweat. She looked older than last I saw her; a few more wrinkles, thinner skin, nothing more.
“Raina, you’re safe. You’re in my dining room in the back of the cafe. How do you feel?” she asked.
How did I feel? My entire body was in stitches. Every inch of it was sewn in place, bloated and stinking of rot.
“I hurt,” I mumbled between swollen, stitched lips. I could taste the bitter-sweetness of my wounds. Running my tongue over the roof of my mouth, I could feel the stitches holding me together. Bits of flesh hung here and there. I tried not to think too hard about it. I knew if I let myself dwell on it that I’d break down. I didn’t want to break down. I wanted to know what the hell was going on!
“You’re healing. I can see it,” she said. Her words were kind but her eyes looked anxious. I could only imagine what my face must look like; puffy, half rotten, stretched and sewn. Goddess!
My muscles felt stiff, the ones I could feel anyway. They felt ridged. “Where did my brother go?” I asked quietly, because my vocal cords and lungs were still healing. I needed to see Nicholas. He had to have some answers. He brought me to the café. He put me back together again, like humpty-fucking-dumpty. It was his face I first woke to, his smell, his words. I swallowed. Damn, it hurt! “I’m thirsty. Where’d Nick go?”
“Nil is bringing you some food,” she said.
“Why did he bring me here?”
“He needed a safe place to—,” She let out a heavy sigh, “Goddess, I didn’t think it would work, just sewing you up like he did, but by the gods, Raina, you’re back!”
“Ta-da,” I said. Even in my revolting, delicate state, I couldn’t keep my sarcasm to my damn self.
“Yes,” Kamaria said thoughtfully. “Very impressive, dearie.”
I was healing as fast as any vampire, but still. In many places only thin thread was keeping me together. I felt like Frankenstein’s monster. When I tried to sit up the thread ripped through my flesh and I cried out. “Damn!”
Kamaria helped me lay back down carefully. “Take it easy.”
“Shit,” I breathed past the pain. “Is my daughter okay? Where is Isobel?”
“She’s fine,” she said. “Both of your children are just fine.”
I nodded, taking in shallow breaths. “I want to see them,” I said.
I heard a heavy door open and a few moments later Nick came up and looked down at me. His wild red hair and big, almost black eyes stood out drastically against his vampire gray skin. Hurriedly, he took off his heavy coat to reveal a red shirt that clung to his skinny frame.
“Raina,” he said with awe in his voice.
“Hi, Nicholas.”
He stared at me for a moment before shaking his head. “I didn’t know what you’d want to eat,” Nick said. “As a vampire, I was sure you’d want blood, but then again you’re a demigod also, so you may crave ambrosia.”
“The food of the gods?” I asked.
He set down a velvet bag and pulled out two large jars. The first had dark red blood filled to the rim, while the other was filled with a glossy, pink substance. “Yes, but we don’t know which nourishment your body needs. Whatever part of you that was human is dead. So, do you now have the internal workings of a vampire or a god?”
I was giving the jar of pink shit some seriously apprehensive looks. I wasn’t too keen toward anything god-like in that moment. I certainly didn’t need another reminder of the bit of god I had inside me.