by V. L. Holt
The Marine sank to his knees. “So many years,” His voice breathed.
Nothing about the Marine’s demeanor suggested he knew why they wanted to know about Eliza K. Burrows. Zeko felt the slightest twinge of relief. Maybe he could still salvage this little tête-à-tête.
“Years? How many years? Perhaps there has been some sort of mistake. Perhaps you could see the light of day within 24 hours. This could end up very well for you, Marine. I’ll just go get Zarastrid right now,” He smiled at the man. That one snapped out of his reverie.
“What do you want, Zeko? Let’s leave Zarastrid out of this. You don’t want him to know, do you? That you told me what you’re after? I don’t trust him. At least with you, I know what I’m getting into.”
Zeko didn’t know if he should be offended or not. It was the longest speech the Marine had ever uttered in his presence. He was a little disgusted with himself. How did some prisoner read him so well? Zeko acknowledged to himself that he was getting lazy. He could work with this, though.
“I don’t know what Zarastrid is up to. You know as well as I do that his modus operandi is unequivocal torture. Surely you haven’t forgotten what happened last year? Why dress you now? Give you a comfortable place to sleep? I’m just as in the dark on this change. He hasn’t consulted with me,” Zeko stared at the Marine. They could form an alliance of sorts.
“Zarastrid, powerful though he may be, is deluded. He believes in a certain myth of our people,” Zeko tried to ascertain just how much to divulge.
“Your people?” The Marine asked.
Zeko let out a little laugh. “You really don’t know anything, do you?” He was amused. “What did you think? That we were some Italian mafia organization? Trying to take over your silly United States government?” Zeko started laughing.
“Russian,” The Marine said. He cracked the smallest smile. Zeko’s mercurial disposition lightened.
“You have a knack, soldier, for making me chuckle. I’ll tell you what we are. We’re wizards. Warlochs. The most powerful race of superhumans the Earth has ever known. Call us, Magi Sapiens, if you will. And Zarastrid has this notion that one of us created a Wizard-Human offspring. It’s not supposed to be possible. It isn’t possible,” Zeko flinched a little, but was otherwise calm.
“Then why is he convinced? And what does this have to do with my wife?” The Marine asked.
Zeko waved his hand airily. “Some prophecy. You know how zealots can be when they’re reading religious texts. It’s nothing.”
The Marine looked at him. “Then why are you sweating so much?”
Zeko’s anger flashed anew. He backhanded the Marine with his ring hand. He would have a purple welt on his cheekbone tomorrow. “Do you want to avoid Zarastrid’s wrath or not?”
The Marine said nothing. Zeko felt appeased. “Zarastrid has been trying to track down Jahanna Zeestros for forty years,” He watched the Marine’s face relax and deflate like a balloon. His guard had gone down. “Around twenty years ago, all records of her existence disappeared. And then Zarastrid found an obscure military reference.”
The Marine’s expression hardened then.
Finally. Zeko had discovered that when his wife was mentioned, the Marine’s usually inscrutable face was as overt as a pornographic magazine. “Yes, your hasty marriage had the Marines record department scrambling. Turns out Jahanna changed her name when she was eighteen. Wanted a fresh start after being raised in the state’s foster system. Clever girl. She had no idea she was evading some of the keenest hunters mankind has ever known,” Zeko preened a little at the self-aggrandizement.
The Marine snorted, in spite of the bruise forming on his skin.
Zeko jerked at the noise. He narrowed his eyes, daring the soldier to speak.
“Keenest hunters,” He said with derision. “How do you explain me, then?” The Marine grinned, but without humor.
“An aberration. Human error, of course. Many assistants lost their lives after your escape,” There, that sobered him up. He actually wasn’t sure how the Marine had managed, but knowing that the memory spell had been invoked was a clear indication that more than just he and Zarastrid were involved.
Zeko watched the play of remorse cross the Marine’s face. He was beginning to get him. He could be emotionless with regard to himself, but as soon as others were brought up, his façade cracked. He would remember this for further interviews. “What do you think Zarastrid will do with her once he finds her, do you suppose?”
The Marine went pale. He said nothing, though.
“I’ll tell you what I think he will do with her. I think he will,” Zeko pretended to search out the right word. “Interview her. Ask her a question or two. And if he doesn’t like the answers…” He gave the Marine a pointed look.
“What do you want, Zeko? I already asked you once,” The Marine’s fists clenched at his sides. Zeko realized he’d placed himself in a precarious situation, but refrained from stepping back.
“Just tell me what she knows about her parentage. Tell me if she has any…talents, if you will. That’s not too difficult, is it?” Zeko finished.
“You already know where she is, don’t you?” The Marine said softly.
Zeko suppressed a smile. “You are a bright boy, for a, what do you call it? Jarhead?” He gave a low chuckle. He pretended to check his watch. “Oh, look at the time. It is wasting.”
“She doesn’t know anything. You have to believe me. You can tell I didn’t know anything, can’t you? She’s completely innocent. She just works and,” The Marine looked pinched. “At least, she used to work. I was only with her for a short time,” The Marine backed up and leaned against a wall. The life seemed to go out of him. “Why can’t I remember…?” His voice trailed off, and consternation etched his face.
Zeko stared at his captive. “I’ll see if I can’t get Zarastrid off her scent,” He left without another word, ignoring the abject relief flowing off the Marine’s skin. See? Almost every time he left someone’s presence.
40
I could feel the heat from my skin radiating off of me like a tsunami. And I didn’t care. I couldn’t look at William driving, or I might implode from happiness. It felt like we were finally on the same page, and it was the last page, the page where it says ‘happily ever after’. I grinned so hard my face hurt, but I still couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want him to be an illusion.
He finally spoke, and I swear I could hear the smile in his voice. “You okay over there?”
I glanced at him shyly. “I’m good,” I kept on smiling and he kept on driving.
When we turned onto our street, we both started at the scene before us. Dozens of cars lined the street, and it looked like every room in William’s house was lit up. I was confused, and looked to William for an answer. He looked grim.
“They’re here,” Was all he said. He let me off at my house, actually opening the door for me and walking me to my door. He stopped there and looked at me earnestly. “I have to go. Thank you for this afternoon,” He leaned down to kiss me, and my mom, who I adore more than life itself, who gave me my life, and makes me soup when I’m sick, opened the door right at that moment. I simmered inside, and William pulled back. He gave my mom a smile. “Mrs. Burrows. Have a good night,” He squeezed my hand. “I’ll text you,” I frowned at him, and watched curiously as he drove slowly between the cars and parked in the spot left in his driveway.
“Well?” My mom asked me, letting the end of the word curve up like a smile.
The blush I was sure had started about an hour ago never had left, so there was no point in pretending. “We came to an understanding,” I smiled at her, real big, and went to my room. How did he have my phone number? Did he even have a phone? When was he going to text me? And while he and his Warrior friends were busy fighting off demons, would he even have time for me?
I had a hard time focusing on homework, but it got done. Mick also called me to let me know he was feeling great, and was smoke-free
for three days. I congratulated him, and listened to him go on about a volunteer at the hospital, willing William not to text me yet, so I could give him my full attention when he did. No sooner than I hung up from Mick’s call then Crady called me.
“So…what happened?” She asked me anxiously.
“He took me to a field outside town and we talked. It was very nice. I’m not mad at him anymore,” I told her.
“Right. Jane, you are so full of it. You’re making it sound like you had a business lunch. As if! What I want to know is, how great of a kisser is he?” She demanded.
She always knew what was up, I had to give her that. “He was so good, you are going to wish he had a brother,” I teased her. She sighed on the other end and hung up, just like that.
I tried not to wait impatiently for a text or call, but I can’t lie. I was impatient and going crazy. I rearranged my drawers, alphabetized my bookshelf, hung up my clean clothes and cleaned out my back pack. Then I tried reading my English assignment, but that was pointless. I tried to look out my window to see down the street, but the angle was all wrong. I could, however, see the cars. The rest of our street probably thought the new neighbors were having a wild party, but I knew better. Or thought I did.
When my room was as clean as it had ever been, I lay on my bed and held my phone to my chest. I thought about the past few days; the whole time was an unbelievable blur. Probably the most unbelievable part was the Lochspawn. Even though I had practically seen it with my own eyes, if it wasn’t for Mick’s description and injuries, I would have a hard time believing it.
My phone started singing, and I caught my breath. But it wasn’t William; it was Crady again.
“Hey,” I said, confused. “You all right?” I asked her.
“I’m sorry. I feel like a total witch, but I found something out and I just can’t keep it to myself, not when it could mean your safety,” Crady sounded serious, which almost never happened.
“What? What is it?” I asked her, completely confused and edgy.
“You know how you said I would wish William had a brother?” She asked.
“Yeah,”
“I went online. I Googled McLeod and Toledo, Ohio. I thought maybe I could find relatives or something. It was supposed to be a joke, Jane. I’m sorry!” She said.
“Just say it, Crady,” I told her. She wasn’t making any sense.
“The McLeod’s are wanted for questioning in a grisly murder investigation,” Her voice cracked at ‘investigation’ and I noticed my vision getting blurry. “I had to tell you, Jane. I just had to tell you,” She was crying over the phone, and I wanted to console her and tell her she got it all wrong, but the puzzle pieces were kind of falling into place. I think I told her good bye and hung up, but I can’t be sure. My face was wet, and I stared at my hands, trying to figure out why they were wet too.
William refused to talk about Toledo. He said it was bad. I never really saw the Lochspawn because it was so dark and Mick had been fainting from loss of blood when I showed up. What if he’d hallucinated? And William telling me he could see some trail of light behind me? He could totally be making it up and I would never know the difference!
I thought of him showing up all silent and stealthy in my kitchen. My stomach twisted and I tasted bile.
Just stop! I told myself. I had to see for my own eyes. I went online with my smartphone, and did a search for William and Jacob McLeod in Toledo, Ohio. A news story was the first hit, since it contained all of the search terms. I scanned the article, each buzz word hitting me in the chest as it popped up: grisly murder, shallow grave, missing persons, dropped wallet and so on.
My phone buzzed, alerting me to a text. I wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans and opened the window.
You okay? He texted.
How did he do that? How did he know to ask me that? I felt all torn up inside. Basically, I was battling two realities in my head. The reality that William and his dad were wanted for “questioning” in a murder investigation and the reality that someone I didn’t know very well admitted to a startling attraction to me. From what I knew of him, which was more believable? All of the things he’d told me were unreal.
I texted him.
I don’t know
He responded: ?
I’ll get back to you, I said and turned off my phone.
I went over the facts: he and his dad showed up in the middle of the night on Friday. He immediately singled me out, and performed his Misrillet later that day. I recalled the conversation Crady and I had that night. That man could administer death! I got chills up and down my spine.
I tried to remember the details from Mick’s attack. I remember distinctly thinking I would have been suspicious if I hadn’t seen the two figures myself. But maybe it was Mick I had seen. No! Mick had told me exactly what he’d seen, and that William had saved his life.
This afternoon had been so amazing. He had kissed me so tenderly, and told me such sweet and meaningful things. I loved the way I felt when I was with him. He couldn’t possibly be responsible for killing innocent people. I needed to clear my head.
I wasn’t going to be one of those dumb chicks in stories that immediately assume the worst of someone. My life wasn’t some sort of Gothic mystery. I had to trust myself and my instincts. And the bottom line was, I trusted William.
This other stuff was bad, though. No question. I put on running pants and my sneakers. I knew it was dark; I knew my mom wasn’t going to be cool with me going out, and that if William found out, he would be royally ticked off too. But I couldn’t think sitting still here in my room. And besides, if everything that William told me was true, then there was a whole house full of Warriors who could defend me if they had to. I just wouldn’t wander far. It would require me to tell a lie to my mom, though. I cringed. Maybe I could compromise.
“Snoopy! Where’s my Snoopy-Whoopy?” I sang in my silly voice. My mom poked her head out of her office.
“Whatcha doin’?” She asked.
“I’m going to take Snoopy out for a little walk. Get some fresh air,” I told her. There, it was all true.
“Um, okay. Gonna catch up with William too?” She asked me with a wink.
I smiled at her, and blinked back a tear. “They’ve got people over, actually,” I said, then made kissing noises at my dog. Snoopy chuffed at me and got up awkwardly from his spot under the table. He shuffled over to me and we went out the door. I kissed the air a couple more times. “Come on, boy. Come on!” He did what I knew he would do, upon sniffing the cool September air. He plopped down on the front stoop and panted happily. “Who’s my lazy-waisy puppy?” I cooed in his ear, and petted his cheeks. I loved that old dog. I stretched a little, looking down the street curiously, and then decided to run the other direction. I was not going to be some crazy stalker. I felt at peace with my decision to trust William too. In for a penny, in for a pound. Bam! A great one to add to the list.
41
Zarastrid smoothed the after-shave lotion on his face. The driver was long gone. She’d been a pleasant diversion, but he had work to do. He was going to begin his campaign to get under the Marine’s skin. As he’d reviewed the man’s military career, he’d learned something. The more he pushed, the less the Marine would cave. He’d actually managed to escape from a coven of very experienced Warlochs last year, and evade capture for that amount of time. The man had suffered unbearable pain, and still not given her up. Clearly a different tack was needed. He just finished his toilette when a knock came on the door. His senses flared, and he realized Zeko was here.
He made the small motions that released the binding spell from the door and said, “Enter.”
Zeko walked in, didn’t look around, but rather, stared at Zarastrid. “You’re going out?” He asked. He shifted from one foot to the other. Why was Zeko always nervous around him? Probably hiding something, he decided.
“For a while. How can I help you?” He asked.
Zeko ignored the question. “How
do you like your apartment?”
Zarastrid raised his eyebrows. He decided to play Zeko’s game. He crossed the carpet to the sitting area. “Sit down. Would you like a drink?” Centuries of life taught the Warlochs one thing; civility never went out of style.
Zeko relaxed. “That would be lovely,” He took a seat.
Zarastrid poured a neat whiskey in a crystal tumbler, but refrained from pouring his own. He pressed it into Zeko’s hand, and then sat. “The driver was a pleasant diversion,” He said. He was practically immortal. He knew the value of patience.
Zeko nodded. “I seemed to recall your preference for redheads. And freckles,” He sipped his drink, and then licked his lips. It was a cheap shot, but it was the only kind he could afford.
Zarastrid gritted his teeth, but ignored it. “Yes, thank you again,” He crossed one Amosu pant leg over another. The barb wasn’t lost on him. But there was more than one way to skin a Warloch. He watched Zeko gird his loins.
Zeko’s courage rose to the sticking point. “We need to drop the whole Warloch descendant thing. The Marine doesn’t know anything. It’s only a myth,” He watched Zarastrid’s face. Zarastrid remained calm.
“What brings this little tantrum about?” Zarastrid asked his colleague.
Zeko forced a laugh. “Hardly a tantrum, Zarastrid. It’s more about focusing our energies efficiently,” He nodded, agreeing with himself.
Zarastrid stroked his chin while forcing himself not to smile. “Zeko,” He looked at him full on. “Zeko, to hear you talk about efficiency is a bit of a joke. When is the last time you ‘ran numbers’ on one of our front corporations, hm?” He stood up and stretched. “Why are you so convinced the myth isn’t truth?” He narrowed his eyes at Zeko, and then understood something so profound, so wonderful, that he had a hard time concealing it. He concealed it from himself almost as soon as the thought came to him, in order to lie successfully to his colleague.