by M. L. Ryan
I wasn’t about to inform him that even if his magic couldn’t be detected, the Rural Metro Fire and Pima County Sheriff’s Departments’ arson investigators tend to be quite vigilant when there’s a body found in the rubble of a charred building. They would probably figure out the blaze didn’t start naturally, either. Not that they’d be able to find him when he fled to his own dimension, but at least Alex would know my demise was no accident. As I contemplated being burned alive, Vinnie stepped into the room and eyed Lyjwix with suspicion.
“Oh, you have a cat,” he said as he leaned down to coax Vinnie to him. Ever the excellent judge of character, my feline companion trotted right over to Lyjwix and happily jammed his head against the proffered hand. Traitor. It was likely, however, that having witnessed whatever Rachel and Cortez had been up to recently, Vinnie didn’t perceive my current predicament as anything out of the ordinary. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, beautiful,” Lyjwix cooed as he scratched Vinnie’s chin.
He picked up the cat, and walked over to the front door. Opening it, he placed Vinnie on the doorstep. “Now you wait out here and when I’m finished, I’ll get you a nice bowl of milk and find you a nice, warm place to stay.”
The cat wasn’t thrilled with being shoved out into the rain, and tried unsuccessfully to scoot back inside before Lyjwix unceremoniously closed the door. I could hear his frantic meowing, and it nearly broke my heart, but even with the assorted predators that might be lurking about, he had a better chance of survival outside than he did in here with me.
Lyjwix returned to his seat on the sofa. “I must admit, I have never killed anyone before. You have no idea how difficult this is for me,” he noted, staring at me like he was trying to peer into my soul. “What normal woman stays with a man when people are trying to kill him?” The veins in his forehead began to bulge and his face flushed. “You should have given him up,” he snarled. This is all your fault!”
His ability to go from zero to crazy in less than 10 seconds was astounding. Almost as mind boggling as trying to blame me for his insanity. It was bad enough that I was in this situation, now I was supposed to feel bad for him because he decided I needed to die to satisfy some deranged familial obligation? You want my sympathy now? You’re discussing murdering me, you crazy fuck. Now, I was getting angry. I’m not going out like some wimp, asshole.
“Look, dickhead,” I spat. “No one’s making you do this. It’s all on you and you alone. And by the way, that story you told about how you had no idea Alex was dating that chick when you started seeing her, that’s a load of crap. We couldn’t walk down the street for one minute without people staring at us. Whoever he was in a relationship with had to be common knowledge. Did it make you feel manly to be cheating with the prince’s girlfriend?”
His eyes narrowed. “Not nearly as manly as killing his current one. Frankly, I am probably doing Alexander a favor. You are not worthy of being his lover. While you are moderately attractive, you are human.” Surveying my tiny house, he said with contempt, “You are obviously not wealthy. The prince should thank me for what I am about to do.”
That was really the last straw. I’d worked damn hard to overcome my issues with low self-esteem and there was no way my final moments were going to be marred by this scumbag putting me down. Through clenched teeth, I hissed, “I may not be rich, and I may not be the most beautiful woman in the world, but there’s nothing second-class about me. Who the hell are you to tell me I’m not worthy of anyone? I’m a kick-ass human, you god-damned, fucking son-of-a-bitch.”
Lyjwix laughed at my show of pique, which made me even more furious. As my rage intensified, I felt that tell-tale tingling in my hands. Maybe Lyjwix’s magical block only applies to preventing me from form-bending. I’d never zapped anything on purpose — or a living, breathing person under any circumstances — but I focused all my anger and fear and channeled it into my fingers. Quickly, the tingle became stinging pain and my arms — which were sort of pinned to my sides — and they strained against the bindings of their own accord. My fingertips splayed upward and away from my body, to point directly at Lyjwix.
He stopped laughing and seemed mesmerized by my now glowing digits. If his wide eyes and gaping mouth were any indication, the realization that things might not be going exactly as he had planned dawned just before the surge hit. His perfectly pressed oxford shirt smoldered for just an instant, and then Lyjwix exploded.
~29~
Previously, when I wanted to stop myself from utilizing my destructive magical abilities, I’d imagine the grossest thing possible. From now on, I wouldn’t have to conjure up anything other than recalling being covered with bits of Lyjwix. There wasn’t anything big enough to identify, but I, as well as the walls, floor and ceiling, dripped with blood and gore.
My shock at what I had just done was short lived, however. The immediate problem of Lyjwix murdering me had been eliminated, but the destructive barrage didn’t just blow apart my attacker. It had also set the room on fire, and I was still tied to the chair. And whatever it was that shot out of my fingers created an almost instant inferno; the entire side of the living room behind where Lyjwix had stood was ablaze, and the flames were advancing at a terrifying rate.
Shit. After all that, I’m going to be burned alive anyway. I attempted to create distance between myself and the fire by scooting/hopping the chair toward the bedroom, but there was no way I was going to out-bounce either the blaze or the thick, billowing clouds of smoke that now filled the small space. It was getting more and more difficult to breathe, and the heat was becoming unbearable. Fear engulfed me, but I knew I had to keep myself from panicking if there was any chance of survival. Suddenly, I had an epiphany of sorts, or at least I hoped it was. Maybe now that Lyjwix is dead, whatever he was doing to stop me from form-bending is no longer operable.
Almost as soon as I finished the thought, I transformed. The bindings that had held me slid off my significantly smaller frame and I flew to the top of the refrigerator just as the flames began to lick against the legs of the chair. Unfortunately, the smoke was worse up high, and I was forced back onto the floor where the air was a bit clearer. I had to find a way out, but I couldn’t figure out a way to accomplish that as a bird. All the windows and doors were closed, and my current lack of opposable thumbs was a distinct disadvantage when it came to turning knobs or flipping latches.
Figuring it was the area least likely to burn because of all the pipes and porcelain fixtures, I hopped into the bathroom, pushed the door shut and got into the tub. I had never gone from human to bird and back again this quickly, but I knew I had to change now or I’d be trapped. I also knew that the key to transforming into Hailey required a clear and serene mind, and at the moment, I was anything but. Placing my head under one of my wings to shield the smoke as much as possible, I pictured sitting in a field of desert wildflowers, surrounded by the dazzling array of colors and scents, with puffy white clouds floating in a sky almost as blue as Alex’s amazing eyes.
Almost immediately, my human head was tucked under my arm and I was coughing so much, it felt like my ribs might break. I was seriously sick to my stomach, but I stood and swept the collection of seldom-used shampoos and conditioners off the sill, unlatched the small window and shimmied up. The rain had let up some, and as I shoved my head outside, I took a couple of lungs-full of the damp, ozone-filled air before dropping to the ground, head-first. I managed to maneuver my hands in front of me to break my fall and avoid a total face-plant, but that was only a partial victory. Landing in a cholla cactus that grew underneath the window, its spiny pods impaled my flesh and stuck to me as I rolled away. They hurt like hell, but all things considered, I wasn’t complaining.
Moving to a safer distance from the burning structure, I was vaguely aware of sirens in the distance. Oh good, maybe someone saw the fire and called the fire department. I also realized I was kind of cold; which made sense considering it was drizzling and I was naked. Wrapping my arms a
round myself in a mostly unsuccessful attempt to keep warm, I cursed myself for not grabbing the shower curtain before I made my escape. I awaited the arrival of help - shivering, nauseated, coughing and with cactus needles stuck to various parts of my body – still not fully processing what had just transpired. Too bad Harrison moved away, it would be nice to see a friendly face right now.
The smoke had completely screwed up my eyes, but through the intense irritation, I noticed movement to my left. A scruffy coyote emerged from under a creosote bush, holding Vinnie in his mouth. The poor cat was obviously terrified; even in the dark I could tell his pupils were completely dilated and his fur, while wet, was puffed out. I had no idea what to do. If I yelled, the coyote might drop Vinnie, or it might high-tail it back into the desert without leaving its prize. Before I could formulate some sort of a plan, the canid trotted toward me. When it got about four feet away, the coyote stopped, gave me a look like it was asking, “Is this yours?” and gently placed Vinnie on the ground. Immediately upon landing on terra firma, the frightened feline disappeared in a calico blur, scaling a large mesquite tree behind me.
“Thanks,” I mumbled. My vision was blurry and there was only the light of the burning building to illuminate the area, but I could swear Wily nodded before turning and disappearing into the darkness. Hearing the rumble of a fire truck coming up the driveway, I was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. My legs no longer able to support me, I sat down under the mesquite and leaned my weary head against the trunk.
When the first truck pulled up, a bunch of firemen jumped out and immediately went to work trying to extinguish the blaze. I called out, and one of them ran over. To his credit, he seemed completely unfazed by both my state of undress and the cactus pods all over me, and called to a colleague to bring a blanket. They draped it gently over my shoulders, trying to provide me with some warmth and covering while doing their best to not jam the cholla spines in any deeper. Then, they walked me slowly to the back of a newly-arrived paramedic’s vehicle, where the EMTs slapped an oxygen-mask on my face and got to work removing the cactus. It was painful, but at least they got out most of the barbs.
As I was being attended to, a sheriff’s deputy came over to ask me questions. I recognized her as the same one that came when the tree was burned, the one that frowned a lot and seemed to find everything I said suspicious. Before she had the chance to speak, I pulled down the mask and made her promise that someone would get Vinnie. True to her word, she tasked her partner with luring the freaked-out feline from a branch about eight-feet up. I wasn’t as difficult as one would have thought. All that was required were some reassuring words and a bit of the tuna sandwich the deputy had in the squad car for a midnight snack.
Only then was I able to assess the status of my home. The entire house was afire, even my RAV4 in the attached carport was burning. It was disheartening watching everything I owned go up in flames, but I was alive and Vinnie was alive; that was really all that mattered. The deputy, who reminded me her name was Deputy Cunningham — emphasis on the deputy — asked me what happened. I told her I wasn’t completely sure, which wasn’t completely false. I knew I couldn’t tell her the truth, but I didn’t want any lies to come back and bite me in the ass later. I decided to keep it simple, and feign trauma-induced shock to explain my lack of detail. At least until I could talk to Alex and find out what was a reasonable explanation for the evening’s events.
I outlined how I was getting ready for bed and went to take a shower. I got everything ready, but the lightning seemed close and reconsidered the safety of standing under the flow of water during an electrical storm. There was a flash of light and a loud sound, like an explosion, and when I opened the bathroom door, the other half of the house was already full of flames and smoke. That, at least, explained my nakedness and suggested that a lightning bolt may have been the culprit.
“And you were the only person in the house at the time?” she inquired, not looking up from her little spiral notebook as she scribbled notes.
I responded with an emphatic yes. Technically that was true; if you didn’t consider a Courso as a person. Besides, even before the conflagration, there was so little left of Lyjwix, I figured there wouldn’t be any evidence of anyone else left in the rubble. At least I hoped that was the case. I sure as hell didn’t want to get into what actually happened, and I was defending myself. No harm, no foul, I reasoned. At least as far as the human authorities should be concerned.
The paramedics suggested I go to the hospital to get checked out, but they didn’t insist, so I decided against a trip to the ER. Amazingly, Cunningham seemed satisfied with my answers and told me she had enough information. She asked if I wanted to call someone to come get me so I’d have someplace to spend the night. Huh. Deputy You-Must-Be-Guilty-Of-Something is being almost nice this time. She let me use her cell phone and I called Rachel. Like the true friend that she was, Rachel hurried over with some clothes for me and a box to transport Vinnie, who was still being held in the comforting arms of the guy who lured him with his tuna salad. She also brought Cortez, who, regardless of the circumstances upon which I last saw him, was a sight for – literally – sore eyes.
With obvious concern, Cortez looked me over. “I’m okay,” I assured him. I needed to tell him what had happened, but I couldn’t risk doing so with everyone around. I asked Rachel if she could get Vinnie and put him in her car, and when she went off to secure him, I pulled the Xyzok away from the deputies and the paramedics that remained. “Get in touch with Alex,” I whispered. “Lyjwix tried to kill me, but I got him first.”
In his typical “man-of-few-words” manner, Cortez didn’t respond much to my revelation. He blinked once or twice and then pulled out his phone. After a brief conversation, he stuffed the phone back in his pocket and informed me that Aiden would get word to Alex and Sebastian.
Rachel returned from cramming Vinnie into the box and placing him in her car, and she, Cortez and I watched in silence as the firemen battled the blaze. They didn’t seem to be making much progress, and I even heard one of them comment that whatever the house was made of, it was sure burning fast. I knew it had nothing to do with the home’s construction materials. Apparently magically produced fire is different than the regular kind. After a while, I couldn’t watch anymore. All I wanted to do was take the shower I claimed I wanted to take before and then sleep for a long, long time. I made sure Cunningham had no more questions, and told her I was going to Rachel’s. She reminded me to contact my insurance agent first thing in the morning and told me I was free to go.
Just before I got into the car, I looked back at the burning shell that had been my house. The fire fighters seemed to have given up saving it. Instead, all their attention turned to making certain the big house on the property didn’t catch fire as well. With tears welling in my already red eyes, I got into the back seat and gave a final glance at the place I’d called home for the last three years. I had really liked my tiny abode. It was the perfect set-up, no one around but the desert inhabitants, cheap rent and a fantastic location. There was no way I’d ever be able to find another rental property like it, I feared. As we drove away, I tried to look on the bright side. At least I won’t have to worry about what to do with Rachel’s S & M chair now.
~30~
As the sun rose the next morning, I lay on Rachel’s couch and watched as the light of a new day crept around the slats of the shutters that covered the living room windows. The two things I wanted most last night – to wash off the soot and remnants of Lyjwix and fall into a blissfully amnesiac sleep – had only come to partial fruition. I must have spent 30 minutes letting the hot water sluice over my dirty, punctured flesh and it took three wash, rinse, repeats before my hair didn’t smell like smoke. But even after I forced myself to eat something to soothe the transformation-induced churning in my stomach, I tossed and turned all night. Every time I closed my eyes, I relived every gory detail of ending Lyjwix’s life.
Vinnie was curled
up near my shoulder, conked out the way I hoped I’d be. He hadn’t left my side since we got to the apartment. He even sat in the bathroom while I lingered in the shower. I had to admire his ability to sleep so soundly after the events of the night before. I guess cats don’t let anything interfere with their requisite 22-hours per day of shut-eye.
At six-thirty, convinced continued efforts at slumber were useless, I got up and made some coffee. Rachel had one of those fancy, French-press brewers, so after measuring out what I hoped was the proper amount of java into the glass part, I had to wait for the water to boil on the stove. As I was adding the water to the press, Cortez came into the kitchen. He watched as I stirred the mixture and plunged the grounds to the bottom, then he grabbed two cups from the cabinet.
He poured us each a cup, added some milk to his, and leaned on the counter. “Rachel’s still asleep,” he said quietly. “What the hell happened last night?”
I plunked myself down at the table and gave him a quick run-down of the salient points. When I finished, he downed the rest of his coffee and remarked, “Bad night.”
“Yep, that pretty much sums it up.” Somehow, Cortez’s knack for distilling the horrifying episode into those two words made me feel better. Well, maybe not better exactly, but it kind of put things in perspective. At least I was here to tell the tale.
When Rachel got up, we had some breakfast and I called my insurance guy, Frank something. He was annoyingly perky, but promised to be out to assess the damage within the hour and call me later. I gave him Rachel’s number, as my cell phone was somewhere in the rubble.
I glanced down at the borrowed outfit Rachel brought me yesterday. “I should probably go out and buy some clothes, but my Visa and ATM card are probably a melted mass of plastic in the charred remains of my purse right now.” I cradled my head in my hands and moaned, “There’s so much shit to do. I don’t know where to start.”