Special Rewards (The Coursodon Dimension Book 2)

by M. L. Ryan

  All I could say was, "Whoa."

  Alex turned and followed my wide-eyed gape beyond the wall.

  "Fascinating," he whispered. "Unbelievably fascinating."

  Neither of us dared move; we both just stared, awestruck, at the odd congregation before us. I noticed a Harris's hawk perched on a high branch in a mesquite tree, and wondered if it was the one from the night before. Soon, another hawk flew in and landed on another part of the same tree.

  It was like a scene from a low-budget horror movie. Animals, pissed about some ecological faux pas perpetrated by humans, mustered around an isolated cabin rented for the weekend by a group of scantily clad, slightly inebriated sorority girls and their horny, completely wasted jock boyfriends. One stupid loser, deciding to take a leak outside rather than use the perfectly good bathroom facilities provided in the cabin by the evil real estate company whose actions inspired the animal’s grudge, is eaten alive by the angry hoard. In the morning, his friends find only his skeletal remains, still being nibbled upon by a few indolent chipmunks.

  Except that in this case, the critters didn't seem agitated at all. Far from it. I glanced at Alex and shrugged.

  "What should we do?" I said softly.

  "Hell if I know. I've never seen anything like this."

  "What do you think they want?"

  Alex shook his head. "No idea."

  One of the hawks squawked out a long, hoarse “kaaw,” and both flew off to the north. And then the rest of the animals scurried off in various directions.

  "That was so weird," I blurted when the last had made its departure.

  "Indeed."

  Obviously deep in thought, Alex eyed me intently, hand curled around his chin and one finger methodically tapping his cheek. While he contemplated the meaning of our strange encounter, I peeked over the wall to scan the area. Maybe something got into the garbage and the animals were attracted by the smelly goodies that had been strewn about the yard. But except for a prodigious amount of scat — Who is going to clean that up? — the area looked clean.

  I walked back to where Alex still pondered the day's events and asked, "Do you think it has something to do with Sebastian's magic? I was never the Pied Piper before."

  "Possibly, but animals aren't particularly drawn to him, as you saw with Vinnie's uncharacteristically hostile reaction. If anything, I would think anything associated with him would be repellent."

  "I can believe that," I remarked as I went inside.

  ~9~

  Despite the post-mindful circus, something was accomplished during Alex's "experiment." I broke my previous personal-best, height-of-elevating cups record by at least a foot. And if I ignored the fact that I also broke it, that was a definite step forward.

  Much as I hated to admit it, the relaxation/focusing trick was helpful. After a few more rounds of practice, I could raise any relatively small object and return it to terra firma with aplomb. Unfortunately, anything heavier than a half-pound was still beyond me. I was just going to have to accept that, much as I longed to take possession of the magic, I might never be able to advance much further.

  Although there was no repeat of the mass assemblage of wildlife that occurred after my first foray into new age woo-woo, every time I ventured outdoors, there seemed to be a larger than normal assortment of critters. Previously, it wasn't unusual to glimpse a variety of fauna in the desert surrounding my humble abode, but generally they were just passing through. Now, however, the wildlife seemed to be perfectly content to loiter about before moving along. And while I was sort of getting used to the slew of visitors, I'd be a lot happier if we knew what the hell was going on.

  In an effort to regain some semblance of normality, Rachel and I organized an overdue get-together for dinner. Originally, we had planned a couples thing, but she said Harrison couldn't make it. When Alex heard he would be the lone male, he also begged off, opting instead to catch up on some Xyzok paperwork he'd been putting off completing. I looked forward to a girl's only night. Rachel and I used to do them all the time, but since Harrison and Alex came into our lives, we hardly ever had a chance to be alone together.

  We met at our usual hang-out, O'Reilly's, a bar that also served some tasty chow. I waved at Wyatt, the mega-tatted, red haired, dreadlocked bartender as we grabbed a table. We'd been patronizing the place so long that he knew our orders by heart; shortly after we sat down, the waitress brought over a margarita for me and a glass of chardonnay for Rachel. We ordered some food and got down to catching up.

  "So, Hails, I gotta say I'm happy you and Alex are still going strong. Surprised, but thrilled."

  I gave her a playful smack in the arm, but she did have a valid point. Before Alex, I hadn't had even a date in a long, long time.

  "Hey, it's not that surprising. I was just biding time until someone fantastic came along."

  Rachel sipped her wine. "He does seem great," she said with a faraway look. "And I haven't seen you look this happy in forever." She put down her glass and ran her finger around the edge. "You know," she continued quietly, "I envy you. I miss that early-relationship, can't-get-enough-of-him feeling."

  I perused her beautiful, but now sullen face. Now that I thought about it, Rachel hadn't really mentioned her boyfriend much recently. And conversations with her used to be very Harrison-centric.

  "Is there a problem with you and Harrison? He seems to be unavailable a lot lately."

  She sighed. "I think we're growing apart. We just don't seem to want the same things anymore."

  While until recently, my relationship pattern was to not have one, Rachel's m.o. was to fall head-over-heels for a guy, and within a year start to lose interest. They would break up, and almost immediately, she would be besotted with someone else. She and Harrison had made it past the 18-month mark and I was hopeful that meant they had a longer future in store.

  "Sweetie," I said as I placed a comforting hand over hers, "is this about Harrison's wearing women's underwear?"

  She had confided that tidbit one evening a few months back. Rachel didn't seem that weirded out about it then, she was just annoyed because a significant proportion of her panties were too stretched out for her to wear.

  "I bought him some of his own. Nice one's too. Victoria's Secret. But he still insists on slipping into mine. He says it makes him feel closer to me. Can't he compromise? I'm tired of going into my drawers and not finding any that I can wear." She shook her head dolefully. "But that's not really the problem." Chugging down the remainder of her drink, she waved at Wyatt and pointed to the now empty glass to signal that she needed another.

  "Then what is the problem?"

  "I don't know," she muttered while aimlessly twirling a lock of flaxen hair in her fingers. "Everything he does seems to annoy me now."

  "This is what always happens with the men in your life. First, they can do no wrong, then they can do no right."

  Rachel looked thoughtfully at me before she spoke. "Maybe that's true, but I can't help how I feel. He's just not 'the one,' I guess."

  Or maybe you're so picky no one could ever make the cut. Not wanting to make her feel any worse than she already did, I opted for a clichéd, "There's someone out there that's perfect for you. You just haven't met him yet." Of course, I'd bet that when the right guy did come along, she wouldn't be interested. She always went for the same kind of man — sexy, handsome and somewhat vacuous. Not unintelligent, exactly, but definitely not intellectual. I was convinced that her eventual disenchantment in all of them rose from the lack of mental stimulation. I had made that argument before and it always fell on deaf ears.

  The waitress delivered Rachel's wine and our burgers. The interruption allowed the conversation to morph into less sorrowful topics, and we spent the remainder of the evening gossiping and making off-color comments about my newfound sex life. Just a typical girl's night out.

  I was home before midnight, and Alex was still awake. He was sitting on the sofa reading, with a 20-pound fur ball sleep in his
lap. As I dropped my purse on the kitchen counter, his face lit up with one of his spectacular smiles. It was nice coming home to someone that looked genuinely happy to see me.

  Vinnie raised his head and yawned when I plopped down next to Alex, but there was no way he was moving from his favorite spot. I've heard that some cats get all bent out of shape when they are forced to share their person. But in this case — much to my chagrin, I might add — I think Vinnie preferred Alex to me. At least that meant I didn't have to worry about Alex finding cat pee on his pillow.

  Still smiling, Alex closed his book and asked, "How was your evening?"

  I proceeded to give him an abridged version of Rachel's Harrison woes. "She needs to find someone who will arouse not just her body, but her mind."

  "What about Sebastian? I know he would be more than willing to undertake both tasks."

  "I'm sure he would. He practically hyperventilates every time he's around her. But I don't think he's Rachel's type."

  "Probably not. He is rather self-centered and is not known for his willingness to commit."

  "Who's talking about commitment? Sebastian told me once that he had never spent an entire night with any woman. When he stayed with us, he went out almost every night to ‘satisfy his masculine needs’ and was always back before dawn, alone. I think Rachel wants a man who will still be there the next morning for breakfast."

  Alex was about to respond when his phone rang. He grabbed it off the end table and I could see from the number displayed on the screen that it was Aiden. I figured there must be some Coursodon miscreant that needed rounding up or some other Xyzok business to discuss. Alex thought it was rude to speak Courso around me, because I couldn't understand it. But I knew whatever Aiden wanted, it would be easier for both of them to use their native tongue, so I excused myself and went to get ready for bed.

  They were still talking when I slipped under the covers. I turned off the light and listened to the deep, melodic quality of Alex's voice as he spoke this most-foreign of languages. Not only were the words themselves unfamiliar, but the cadence was unlike anything I had ever heard before. I meant to stay awake, but the almost song-like sounds lulled me to sleep.

  I dreamt that I was an undergraduate and it the end of the semester. For some reason, I had registered for, but never attended, an upper-level chemistry class. It was way too late to drop, and there was no way I could make up the work I missed, much less pass the final. I was frantic. I was screwed. Suddenly, the scene shifted and I was receiving my master’s degree. I beamed as I walked across the stage and as I was about to be handed my diploma, armed men, curiously dressed like storm troopers from the Star Wars movies but without the helmets, rushed in.

  As they leveled their weapons at me, a small, wizened man wearing a neon-pink cap and gown, wove his way slowly through the Imperial Guards. It took forever, and when he finally stood in front of me, he pointed a bony finger and shouted, "This one failed to complete all the required courses as a sophomore. She does not deserve this degree!" Everyone gasped and began to throw eggplant at me, which seemed particularly odd because generally people do not bring produce to graduation ceremonies. Tortillas, yes; eggplant, not so much. The president of the university picked me up and flung me off the stage. Instead of landing on my ass, however, I levitated and exited by floating through an open window near the ceiling.

  I woke up and stared up at the dark ceiling. That was bizarre. The dream was so ridiculous, that as I replayed the details in my head, I laughed out loud. Alex had come to bed, because he rolled over and without opening his eyes said sleepily, "What's so funny?"

  Shifting my position so we were now facing each other, I recounted my nocturnal soap opera and wondered aloud, "What the hell was that about?"

  Lids still closed, he hugged his pillow and murmured, "Perhaps it symbolizes your fears about the changes in your life or that you are conflicted about your future."

  Wow. For a guy who was asleep mere moments before, he sure was able to form a cogent hypothesis.

  "Is one of your many talents the ability to interpret dreams?"

  "No, I read that in a fortune cookie once."

  When I let out a muffled, "Geez," he blinked his eyes open. He probably also caught the tail-end of my eye roll. Alex offered a gentle smile and reached over to touch my hand.

  "Kidding aside, don't you think that dream seems fairly obvious? You are concerned that you may not master your magic to the extent which you desire." When I didn't answer, he continued. "You'll get better at it. No one is born an expert; it takes children years to figure out what you have already accomplished in a few weeks. You are doing great."

  He was right. I was probably setting my expectations too high. Lacing my fingers in his, I grinned back. "Thanks. I'll try to chill out."

  Alex yawned and closed his eyes again. "Look at this as progress. As your dreams go, this one was relatively tame. At least no one died."

  ~10~

  The rest of the night should have passed without too much additional strangeness, except I was awakened around four a.m. by something flopping around against my bare arm. In my somnambulant haze, I didn't realize that Vinnie had deposited a gecko's tail on the bed. I'm ashamed to admit, I screamed like a little girl, which made Alex leap up and crouch on the bed, fighting hands at the ready, in response to the perceived danger. Where the rest of the creature had gone was unclear; I could only hope that the disembodied part was a result of the lizard’s ability to self-amputate and the poor thing had managed to escape. Regardless of the gecko's fate, its tail moved around on its own for a good five minutes before it finally stilled. Why cats feel the need to show affection by offering up live toys, or parts thereof, is a mystery to me.

  Today, the temperature was forecast to hit the 100-degree mark for the first time this year. Locals refer to that annual milestone as the day the ice breaks on the Rillito River. This is doubly ironic as the "waterway" rarely contains any water. People placed bets on when it would happen, as if it is something to look forward to. Let's face it, even with low humidity, anything over 100 degrees is damn uncomfortable. We enjoyed the morning's respite from the coming bake by having breakfast on the back patio. That's the other nice thing about low humidity, no matter how hot it gets during the day, it always cools down nicely overnight.

  I had just started my second cup of coffee when the doorbell rang. While Alex got up to see who it was, I indulged in a freshly baked cinnamon roll that he whipped up earlier. The blend of perfectly raised dough, butter, sugar, spices and pecans was sublime. Almost as delectable as his raspberry jam-stuffed corn muffins. Seriously, the guy was a master with baked goods. If Alex ever tired of chasing down bad guys, he should consider opening a bakery.

  He returned carrying another coffee mug, with Aiden in tow. Opie’s fiery hair looked even redder in the morning sun, almost like it was dyed, although I knew it was natural. The intense color of his hair contrasted with his pale, freckled skin and I was fairly certain that no matter how old he got, with that complexion he would always look like a gangly teen.

  Aiden greeted me with his usual, "Hi there, heroic human," and snagged a still warm sticky bun from the plate on the table. Biting into the gooey pastry, his gaze wandered to the area outside the patio wall where the usual, odd assortment of animals was situated. Aiden's eyes grew wide and despite a full mouth, he managed to blurt out an only modestly garbled, "What the fuck is that?"

  "Oh, they’re my groupies," I said blithely. Truly, I had grown so used to them, I hardly noticed them hanging around anymore. Today's troop consisted of about 20 critters ranging from a large, coiled Diamondback rattler to a white-tailed deer. "For some reason, wild animals are attracted to me. They gather when I'm outside."

  "Wicked. Any ideas why?"

  "Not really," Alex answered. He poured Aiden a cup of French Roast and handed over the aromatic brew.

  "But the gang seems to grow in numbers when I use magic."

  Alex narrowed his eye
s when Aiden’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Oh, shit. I forgot we were trying to keep that a secret. He filled Aiden in on my borrowed talents, but prefaced it with a stern warning not to divulge the information to anyone.

  Throughout the explanation, Aiden couldn’t stop shaking his head. He finished his pastry, and seemed deep in thought as he sipped his coffee. Turning to Alex, he asked, “You think she's an Oblinquitan?"

  "Oblinquitan?" I echoed. "What's that?"

  "Literally, it translates as 'magnet'," Alex replied. "But it means someone with the ability to summon living things, usually animals." He turned to Aiden and added, "I considered that initially, but Hailey's not calling to them, they just show up. There must be some other explanation."

  "Well, whatever the reason, I think it's awesome.” Aiden looked out at the assortment of critters. “What's that racoony-looking thing on the mesquite tree, the one with all the tortoises underneath it?" Aiden gestured toward a big, sprawling branch upon which an animal with a long, slender nose, brownish fur and a skinny, ringed tail sat motionless. And sure enough, below the branch were four desert tortoises lounging in the shade.

  "That's a coatimundi," I said. "You don't see them very often."

  "And are those Harris's Hawks on top of the tree?"

  "Yep. They are here every morning. I think they're a couple; I call them Maris and Ferris."

  As I spoke, the smaller of the pair let loose with a deep, harsh call. "Good morning to you too, Ferris," I called out.

  "And they just sit there?"

  "Pretty much. The party usually breaks up around nine or so. But if I sit outside at night, after about a half-hour, a lot of bats make an appearance. Sometimes an owl or two."

  Aiden again shook his head. "There's always something strange going on around you, isn't there?"

  He was spot-on about that. All my life, if something out of the ordinary was going to happen, it sure as shit would happen to me. A few years back, I went to the DMV to get a new driver’s license when my purse was stolen. I ended up being detained by the FBI because my name was flagged as a member of a Vietnamese child pornography ring. It was doubly bizarre given that I don’t look Vietnamese, and Hailey Parrish is not a name generally associated with that ethnic group. After being interrogated for close to five hours in a small room at the federal building downtown, someone realized that I was not Peng Hui Li, the person they were looking for, who in fact was Chinese and male.