by CK Dawn
“One second, Wash. I need a moment to prepare.”
She put her fingers around her astéri. The small carved figurine draped over the front intertwined with the silver like ropes. She almost reached out to hold Wash’s hand… but she caught herself at the last second, casting him an apologetic glance. Whatever was wrong with him would disrupt her spell, and she needed this.
The power of her home called to her from within the astéri. She opened the flow on her end like a faucet, just enough to fill her body with energy. The arcane power flooded through her instantly, warming her from head to her toes. She shut it off before too much leaked out. She held the energy in her for a moment while she cast her senses about for a spirit.
The neighborhood hadn’t seen better days since before she was born. The only spirit near her wasn’t one she wanted to use. She frowned. A hundred years of violence and lost innocence blocked her from calling out to anything in the sky or the ground.
As the energy seeped into her, she could see the auras of everything around her. The dimming sunlight wasn’t a problem for her eyes, the way it seemed to be for humans, but the auras were bright and overwhelming. She turned to tell Wash what she was doing when froze with the words forming on her lips.
Brilliant blue light shone from within him, swirling about like a storm with bolts of energy like miniature lightning traveling up and down his skin. Caitlin had never seen anything like it. Certainly not in a human.
“Poseidon, you’re beautiful,” she whispered before she could stop herself.
“What?”
She closed her eyes. Stupid. Don’t scare him off. “Sorry, when I have arcana inside me I can see auras and yours… caught me off guard.”
She still had her eyes closed, trying to figure out what to do with the arcane energy. She heard Wash shuffle his feet before saying anything.
“Am I okay? Like, is it broken or something?”
“What?” She let out a little snort, “No, not broken, just… pretty.” She smiled. “You’re fine, Wash.”
Now what to do with the power? It was easier for her to feed it to a spirit and have them do her bidding, but she could shape it into a spell all the same. As she searched for a spirit, an idea formed in her mind.
“Okay, ready?”
“Not sure what for, exactly, but I’ve got your back.”
With a deep breath, she pushed through the double doors that led into the lounge. Her link notified her of the entrance charge, and she ignored it.
“Don’t worry about money. Your account has enough,” she said to Wash.
“My account?” Wash asked, but she didn’t have time to answer.
The club met her every expectation. The large open central room featured a scuffed catwalk-shaped stage in the middle. A handful of dingy private rooms were on the far side, the bar was to her left, and the dressing room doors were next to the stage.
The smell of watered down whiskey, human sweat, and a few other things she didn’t want to think about, practically made her choke.
The tables were more than half full. Twenty to thirty men, and a couple of women crowded around the stage.
Dated rock music boomed through buzzing, blown-out speakers as a line of surgically ‘enhanced’ young women gyrated on the stage.
Sporadic lighting, interlaced with lasers and strobes left the place with deep shadows and bright spots. A strobe lit up right next to her, just as her eyes were adjusting to the darkest part of the room. She cursed and threw a hand up to protect them, but it was too late.
“You okay?”
“Strobe lights completely screw up my eyesight.” That was all right. They wouldn’t be around for long.
Marching up to the stage, Caitlin pushed aside all the patrons staring up at the women until she could climb onto the stage.
“Hey, no amateurs, this is my set,” the stripper yelled.
Caitlin ignored the woman, shunting a tiny bit of power to amplify her voice as she spoke. “I’m only going to say this once.” Her voice boomed from the rafters, drowning out the music and forcing the audience to cover their ears. “Everybody out!”
The world of the spirits slipped into view allowing her to see the magic that made up the spaces in between.
There were three spirits she could call, but the one she wanted was far and away the largest. The spirit ran through every inch of the buildings wire, every speaker, every light.
Caitlin decided the spirit was female, even though they really didn’t have a gender. She called to her.
Yes, the spirit replied. The words sounded like buzzing bees in Caitlin’s ears.
A couple of people had started to drift toward the door but stopped when they realized no one else was going. The rest of them had started shouting at her, complete with a good round of wolf-whistles and at least one take it off, baby! The stripper screamed for the bouncer.
“Burn out everything,” Caitlin whispered to the spirit.
Thunder, quiet but deep, rolled through the building, silencing everyone.
Caitlin threw her arms out as the spirit flowed through her and into every wire, every electronic, every light. The only four things the spirit of lightning didn’t enter was her link, Wash’s, and two emergency exit lights.
One-point-one gigawatts of electricity leaped out from her. The bank of TVs exploded. Light bulbs flared then shattered, sprinkling fine powder like freshly fallen snow.
More screams now, but these were fear and panic as people ran for the exits. Electricity ripped through the last of the wires in the building, burning out every fuse, every junction, leaving nothing usable. The stench of dead electronics like plastic left in the microwave filled the room.
After a few moments, the building was empty.
Almost.
She’d clocked his AR when she walked in. Milo Farnsworth, the man she’d dated once upon a decade, and now her devoted stalker, was in the VIP room hiding from her.
Caitlin motioned for Wash as she leaped down from the stage. With all the power out, even the emergency lights, anyone without special equipment or elven eyesight would be blind.
“Caitlin…” Wash asked behind her. “I can’t see anything.”
Right. She placed her hand on her necklace resuming the connection to her home and channeling the power into the necklace itself. A soft blue light glowed from the silver casting a pale around her.
“Better?”
She heard him move as he caught up to her.
“That was pretty amazing,” he said as he walked next to her.
“I’m glad it worked. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure I could channel what the spirit wanted. I don’t think I could do it again without a good night of sleep.”
She guided Wash back to the VIP lounge where Milo hid. He was perfectly visible to her. He darted out, but tripped over something, letting out a string of curses. A young woman slipped out after him, hands in front of her, groping in the darkness. For one brief second, Caitlin thought it was Daphne.
“Milo you sick bastard. It isn’t enough to stalk me, you pay hookers to dress up like me?”
“Hey, I’m not a hooker!” the girl yelled.
“Caitlin, is that you?” Milo squirmed on the floor, squinting as he tried to see her.
“You don’t recognize me? You sure have enough pictures.” With a wave of her hand, she flared her necklace to spread the light out a half-dozen meters.
The young woman’s black hair and bronze skin were a perfect match for Caitlin’s own. As the woman shifted to hide behind Milo’s fallen form, Caitlin could even see her ears ended in delicate points.
She even wore a fake astéri.
“Why, Milo? Was stalking me getting boring? Did you decide to up the game? I swear to the old gods, if you hurt her, I will pull your entrails out through your nose and ride your damnable soul to hades below! Now. Where. Is. She?”
Her voice boomed, shaking the walls. Milo leaped to his feet. He’d seen better days, that was for sure. O
nce upon a time, when he was young, he’d been handsome and dashing—and she could still see a shadow of that rugged charm on his face, though it was mostly obscured by age and many years of hard living.
“Harmed who? Her?” He glanced at the hooker. “This is Cathy, my girlfriend. She helps me work out my issues in between her sets. I would never hurt her.”
Caitlin shook her head, fingers shaking from so much anger she had to make fists and squeeze them until her nails bit skin.
“My sister, Milo. Daphne! What have you done with her?”
He stared at her. “Your sister? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Wash stood next to her, but thankfully not touching. She could sense something in him, a force she hadn’t noticed before. She itched to reach out and touch him, but right now she needed to focus. Milo’s eyes went wide when he saw him, then narrowed.
“So it was your drone?” she accused him.
“Yeah, was, being the operative word. So this is your new toy, huh?”
“Leave Wash out of this. Tell me where my sister is!”
He made a frustrated noise, running his fingers through his hair. “Look—I have no idea who you’re your sister, but it wasn’t me. Maybe ten years ago I would have tried something like that, but now…” His hand slipped down to Cathy’s and held it tight. “I’m over you.”
“Then why are you still taking pictures?” Caitlin asked.
“Money.” He shrugged.
That couldn’t be right. Milo was loaded. When they dated, he’d flown them around in his private jet.
“Gone.” He shrugged, “Well, most of it. Now I take pictures of a lot of different celebrities, not just you, Princess.”
“Yeah, he’s a pretty famous papar… papa…”
“Paparazzi, babe,” he finished for her.
Caitlin snorted. She shook her head. Despite his complete lack of anything resembling an honest nature, she didn’t think he was lying right now.
But if he didn’t have Daphne, who did?
Milo sniffed, looking at Wash. “So, Wash is it? Has she told you yet?”
Wash glanced at Caitlin before casting his eyes on Milo. “Told me what?”
Milo chuckled.
“Milo… be very careful of your next words.” Caitlin’s heart raced. Milo knew a lot about Caitlin, probably more than any of the other guys she’d known, but the one thing she didn’t want Wash to know—at least not yet—wasn’t really a secret.
“What are you going to do, break my heart again?” Milo shook his head. “I loved you, Caitlin. With every fiber of my being, I loved you. I would have died for you.”
“I know you think I played you for a fool, Milo,” Caitlin said, “but you spent years making me feel like everything was my fault. Like I deserved the hell you unleashed on me. I was young! I didn’t know a damn thing, and you knew that. You were counting on it.”
“It was all your fault!” Milo shouted.
“Maybe at first,” Caitlin said. “I had no idea what I was doing. We’d just come back, and the world was new to me, and I was reckless. But you made me pay, and pay, and pay.”
It had all started with her. There were so many nights she regretted the things she’d done and said after Atlantis returned. The world was new and exciting, and all these powerful, handsome men paid attention to her. She hadn’t realized where it all would lead, and what was at stake—not just for her, but for them.
But he’d made vengeance into an art form before she knew how to cut loose. Before she realized she could.
Milo sneered, and then looked at Wash. “Take my advice kid, run from her, screaming if necessary. Before she breaks your heart.”
Wash shook his head. “We’re not dating.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s not the story my pictures told.”
Wash shrugged. “Is that the real story? Or is it the one she knew you’d want?”
Milo went very still, eyes narrowing.
“It isn’t important,” Wash said, “but you know what? I saw that drone in the gaggle of photographers earlier when we came back from the beach. I’m betting that’s how you knew I’d be in her room, right?”
Milo shifted uneasily. “Yeah, what of it?”
“You’ve been taking pics of her all weekend.”
“What of it?”
“I want them. All of them.” Wash held out his hand.
Milo’s face paled, and then he shook his head. “I’ve linked ‘em up already. They’re gone, kid. In the wind. You can’t get anything back once it’s out there.”
Wash shook his head. “I don’t think so. You keep ‘em local, just to make sure no one else gets their hands on them before you cash them in.” He tipped his head to the side. “Or were you ever even planning on cashing them in? Maybe you like that those pictures of her are yours, and only yours.”
Milo set his jaw. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I don’t,” Wash said. “And honestly, I don’t care.” He stepped forward, looming over the once powerful man. Something else, though, a surge of power flashed through the room. It crackled around him.
“All of them. Now,” Wash said again, his voice low and dangerous.
Milo’s eyes widened. He could sense it, too. “No need to freak out big man. I’ll open a transfer…” Milo’s hands flew through the air as he interacted with an augmented reality only he could see. Wash did the same and in seconds he nodded.
“File’s complete. Even if he had nothing to do with it—”
“I’m telling you, I didn’t!”
Wash jabbed a finger at him. “If you made a single damn copy—if I see a single one of these images out there—I’ll make sure her folks know you were the spotter for the kidnappers.”
Milo’s eyes widened. “Not one. I swear it to you!”
Wash nodded and looked at Caitlin. “There might be something useful in the images. Maybe it’ll lead us to your sister.”
Caitlin sighed. It wasn’t much to go on, and they’d wasted a lot of time here. She reached over to take his hand and leave when she remembered, snatching her fingers back at the last second. He still needed the light.
“I see the way she looks at you,” Milo said to Wash. “I know how this ends for you.”
“Milo, I don’t care,” Wash growled back. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the other man. He fell into step beside Caitlin as they retraced their path to the exit.
Five
Wash was silent as they walked back to the Aston, not wanting to be the first one to talk. The Aston was where they left it, no one had messed with the sleek sports car.
His curiosity nagged at him, but only a little. Whatever Milo wanted to tell him, clearly Caitlin didn’t. After they left the club, she’d laced her fingers through his. He thought about it for a minute and decided he’d told Milo the truth.
He didn’t care. Glancing over at Caitlin, he gave her hand a quick squeeze.
There was nothing to this. Whether she just wanted some momentary comfort after that showdown, or just wanted him to walk a little slower… he was okay with it.
“Where to?” he asked, once they were in the car and driving.
“Isabella Beach. I have a photo shoot to do there and if we don’t hurry, I’ll be late.” She didn’t look at him when she spoke, only stared out the window.
He programmed in the route. With the exception of a half mile here and when they arrived, most of the journey was on auto drive.
When she didn’t say anything about what happened in the club, Wash decided to let her be. His link contained all the photos and videos Milo had taken over the last three days. It was a lot to go through and the computer said the drive would be about an hour.
While Puerto Rico had plenty of gorgeous and breathtaking vistas to gawk at, with the sun almost completely down he decided on a better use of his time.
He glanced at Caitlin. Whatever she was thinking, the window was her only confidant, so he pulled up his
AR. The link tied into his nervous system allowing him—if he wished—to see, hear, and feel things as if they were real.
At the level he wanted, he set it to overlay the photos on the real world. He could dive into them like a catalog and see nothing else, but he wanted to be aware of Caitlin if she ended up wanting to talk, so he settled for an overlay.
The ubiquitous device handled everything for him. All he needed to do was sit back and wave his hand through the air to move images or change directions. He didn’t read the gossip pages or follow the entertainment news, at least not purposefully, but to him, the photos looked like pretty standard stuff.
Whatever Milo’s other flaws, he handled a camera with a skill few paparazzi could match. At least, when he snapped pics of Caitlin. For everyone else, it seemed average. Something nagged at him as he perused the photos of her. Some candid, like her laying on the beach, or drinking coffee.
And did he have a lot of pictures of her. Tens of thousands, if the numbers were to be believed. Most were near duplicates, as he snapped hundreds of pictures a second. This led to a lot of photos that were only slightly different than the one before them. It boggled Wash’s mind how he could take all these.
“Anything interesting?”
With a gesture, he slid all the photos to one side and compacted them to see her clearly. While in autopilot mode, the two-seats of the car offered more room than he’d gotten in his truck back home. He’d managed to turn completely to face her with one leg crossed underneath him. If the car were wider he could lay down horizontally across the front seats and almost imagine being comfortable.
“Lots of really good pictures of you, and so-so images of everyone else.”
When she didn’t say anything, he remained silent as well. The last rays of the day vanished, and darkness shrouded the car, creating a bubble of light around them. The interior of the car and its headlights were the only world he saw.
“You haven’t asked,” she said after a few minutes.
“Nope.”
He opened the file back up and flipped through a few dozen more photos.
“Why not?”