by Susan Lain
Eliot took his hand, still wound around Eliot's deflating dick, and linked their fingers. "It's okay. It happens. I'm sure you're clean."
Alek pressed his cheek over Eliot's nape, the hairs there damp and the skin hot. He should have known Eliot wouldn't hold an accident against him. Alek hugged Eliot tight, never wanting to let go. He hummed with happiness, listening to Eliot's breathy chuckles.
*~*~*
"Next time you feel the need to spank me, fuck me, and then force me to ride a motorcycle for half an hour immediately after, I'll kick your ass." Eliot grimaced and grunted as he dismounted the bike at the Arrington estate courtyard.
Alek's cheeks heated. "Sorry."
Eliot glanced at him, eyes wide. Then he burst into laughter. "God, don't apologize, idiot."
Immediately, Alek felt vindicated. Tension left his shoulders. "Okay." Then he turned and faced the house. "Let's get this over with. I'm not sure what Crimson wants with Shiloh, but we'll find out soon enough I think."
"I have a hunch," Eliot murmured out of the blue, his gaze grim, as he stepped alongside Alek toward the mansion. Alek gave him a curious glance but didn't ask him to elaborate.
Before they got to the stairs leading up to the front door, however, they heard a commotion behind them. The gates of the estate were open, and several cars drove into the pebbly yard.
Alek cursed and shifted to stand in front of Eliot. "Be prepared to run."
"I still have the tranq gun," Eliot countered and moved to stand beside Alek who beamed with pride. Hot damn, the little customer service specialist had become a badass.
The driver side door of the closest car opened and closed with a bang as the driver exited.
Eliot blew out a breath. "Berry Bomb? What are you doing here?"
The punk rocker, his head wound bandaged, gestured around him. "Found this lot hanging about."
"Why'd you bring them here?" Alek asked as he moved closer, his stern face resembling a storm cloud. "We're in danger."
Berry Bomb stood astride, hands on his hips, a determined look in his eyes. "No offense, dude, but you're gonna wanna hear them out."
The young man who'd traveled with Berry Bomb inched toward them, a baffled expression over his dark-skinned face with high cheekbones and hair the color of black steel. He appeared to be South American in origin or heritage.
"Hi?" His voice held a note of hesitation.
Eliot inched toward him, waving a greeting. "Hi. I'm Eliot Tate with CEPA. Who're you?"
"I'm Juan Vela, a barista at Starbucks by Dupont Circle." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I, uh, I know this is going to sound crazy but, uh…oil hellions told me to come here."
A young woman, perhaps Japanese, approached Juan from another car. She had short black hair, short stature, and porcelain skin. Her face depicted similar bewilderment. "I'm Anna Ueda, a hospitality hostess at the Holiday Inn near Scott Circle. Photon faeries prompted me to hurry here right away."
Other people from the other vehicles joined them, everyone speaking of specific species of mythkin that had advised them to rush over to the Arrington estate. Soon everyone was talking at once.
Berry Bomb smiled conspiratorially and closed the gap between him, Alek, and Eliot. "Just FYI, rainomalies sent me here. I've heard their dual chords since I was a kid. I fathomed what they were after Loreblast and the first rainstorm. Working at the MERF labs confirmed it."
"They all have the sixth sense, and they can each communicate with a different species of mythkin," Eliot muttered, sounding as stunned as Alek felt. All his life Alek had assumed he was the only one. Eliot touched Berry Bomb's shoulder. "Wait. Did you say the rainomalies talked to you?"
A frown marred Berry Bomb's forehead. "No. Not exactly. I heard the music they create, and I…I just knew." He shrugged. Apparently he didn't question the mythkin at all, not enough to stay away. Alek was impressed. He'd not believed the thin-as-a-reed young rocker had it in him.
Eliot shook his head in amazement, his gaze flicking between the group gathered there. "I think the mythkin might be telepathic. They're all trying to break free from Crimson's influence."
Alek raised his hands and voice. "Can I have your attention please?" Everyone stopped and met Alek's gaze with curiosity as the agent raised his badge for everyone to see. "I'm Agent Alek Saroyan with MERF. We have a serious situation, but I urge you all to remain calm. The mythkin are trying to help, though I'm not sure bringing you here was the best course of action."
He knew he sounded gruff and cold. The presence of civilians complicated things.
Thankfully Eliot stepped up to the plate. "I'm Eliot Tate with CEPA. Here's what's going on. This estate is owned by Shiloh Arrington. She's being controlled by a powerful tar titan called Crimson. Loreblast awakened him and he's not too happy about humans. We're trying to stop him. Since you're here, the other mythkin seem to want the same thing."
"What the heck is a tar titan?" Berry Bomb murmured, hands crossed over his chest as he shifted weight from one foot to the other restlessly.
"Hang on." Juan raised a hand, like an obedient pupil at school. "Are you saying that this woman and the tar titan want to, what…destroy mankind? Is this an apocalypse sort of scenario?"
People murmured in low, concerned voices. Alek couldn't blame them.
"Hopefully not," Alek declared steadfastly above the din. "We will do whatever it takes to stop Crimson."
"But we'll try to reach Shiloh first," Eliot cut in, sharing a look with Alek, one that advised him to keep his mouth shut. Then Alek understood why. "If the other mythkin can break free from Crimson's hold, we think Shiloh can too. If we can reason with her, the situation might defuse itself without any harm befalling anyone."
Shame flooded Alek. When had he stopped being a protector of the people? When had he started seeing Shiloh as an enemy only, one that had to be eliminated? Eliot was right. If they could end this peacefully, that should be their first task and main goal.
With that in mind, Alek decided to take a chance. "Like all of you, I too hear the mythkin. Gas gremlins, to be exact. Shiloh is special. She sees and hears them all. Crimson has been a constant presence in her life since her childhood. But that doesn't mean she's lost to us. And I think all of us working together can help convince her to side with us. Will you join me?"
A silence befell the courtyard, but meaningful glances were shared by the group gathered. The cat was out of the bag now, Alek thought. Surprisingly, he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He'd been carrying the baggage of eccentric loneliness his whole life. At long last he was delivered from the burden.
Finally Berry Bomb stated, "I don't know about the others, but I'll tag along. Who knows? There might a hit record in here somewhere." His wink could have been misconstrued as cocky, but Alek knew he was attempting to alleviate the somber, desperate mood with humor. He appreciated the selfless effort.
Juan nodded too. "If things go awry and I could've stopped it, I'd never forgive myself."
Anna smiled. "Neither would I. I'm in."
One by one, the others chimed in. Alek had been a part of many groups in his life—army, police, government—but for the first time he felt like he was at last among his own kind and where he belonged. He could make a difference.
Alek locked gazes with Eliot who smiled encouragingly and nodded. Alek's heart filled to the brim with pride and joy. He wasn't alone, even here, at the end of the road. Together they could hopefully save humanity, mythkin and the world. Alek took Eliot's hand in his and headed inside with a determined stride, the rest in tow.
*~*~*
The mansion was quiet and dark. The front door was ajar. Fall leaves had blown in to the foyer and littered the floor. The cold air seeped into Alek's bones, but he remained strong. Losing his shit now would only increase the odds of their demise.
"Should we separate?" Eliot whispered at his side, having relinquished Alek's hand, now holding the tranquilizer gun, just like Ale
k was holding his own service weapon.
"No. This time we stay together." Alek had learned his lesson. They might cover more ground by splitting up but, one by one, they would be easy pickings.
Eliot pointed toward a dark hallway. "That probably goes through the house. I think Shiloh is outside." When Alek gave him a curious look, Eliot smiled bashfully. "She does land art. I saw it on her website. I think it's why Crimson chose her, at least in part."
Flummoxed, Alek stared at Eliot. "What do you mean?"
"Do you remember what Gabrielle told us? Shiloh has been crafting her land art since she was a child, all over the country." Eliot touched Alek's arm, as if to get his full attention which he already had. "I fear it's the same as with D.C.'s avenues and traffic circles."
Shocked, Alek drew in a sharp breath as realization hit him like an oncoming train. "Shiloh is making new ley lines." Then the rest of the puzzle pieces fell into place. "What if it goes beyond communication? What if the energy lines allow for…transportation too?"
Eliot nodded, glum, his eyes cast in shadows. "I think Shiloh is trying to activate the ley lines and bring Crimson here from the Loreblast site." He gazed down the dark corridor, gulping. "That's why I think she's outside. Finishing touches, if you will."
Alek cursed. "Everyone, pick up the pace. Stay behind me."
No one questioned his command.
A silent, somber procession skulked through the mansion abandoned to the elements. All doors and windows were open, letting afternoon sunshine and the autumn wind blow in. No lights were lit, and shadows dwelled in the corners. Yet no one stopped, their advance swift.
The French double doors to the backyard were open, the breeze smacking them against the wall with low thumps. The high-pitch howl of the gales sent shivers up Alek's spine. The place would have made for an excellent location for horror movies, Alek thought with mild amusement.
A non-functional fountain of a marble maiden in a stola, holding a vase from where water should have flowed, dominated the round courtyard paved with stone slabs cracked by grass. From this patio, steps led down to a large back garden surrounded by trees. It was hard to remember they were in a city house, not a country estate. The sun had dipped behind a veil of dark autumn clouds, the air crisp and growing dim as the afternoon waned. They couldn't see much beyond the first row of neatly trimmed bushes.
What they could see, however, was shaman Viho Gazing Mustang lying on the ground, his back to the rim of the fountain. His head had lolled to the side. His chest was heaving but he seemed to be out of it.
Eliot rushed over and knelt next to the shaman, testing his jugular for a pulse. He released a long breath. "Thank God he's alive." Eliot lifted the shaman's chin and saw a blood-stained bruise on the side of his head, his silvery hair glued to his sticky scalp.
Dark eyelids fluttered open, a frown of pain and confusion trailing the awakening. "Eliot?"
"Yes." Eliot pressed his palm against the gash on Viho's head. "What happened to you?"
"Shiloh hit me." Viho shuddered, his eyes closing for a long sigh. When he opened them, he met Alek's gaze. "Did you learn how to save us?"
Alek opened and closed his mouth but not a peep emerged. In the background, he heard the others shuffling about in blatant discomfort and shushing each other to hear the exchange better. He felt Eliot's sympathy as clearly as if the guy had hugged him. Perhaps it was because of how badly Alek wanted to solve the situation they were all stuck in, and Eliot felt for him.
"Where's Shiloh?" Eliot asked then, Alek being pleased that Eliot had given him a break.
"In the garden with her last work. She's not done yet but soon." Viho took a hold of Eliot's arm, a desperate urgency to his strength. "I'm sorry. This is my fault."
Alek resisted the compulsion to roll his eyes. He'd heard the same self-recriminations from Gabrielle. Of course, she'd been partially right. Nobody was blaming Shiloh.
"What do you mean?" he asked, trying to curb his irritation, mostly for Eliot's sake.
Viho slumped in resignation, closing his eyes to reminisce, his expression a mix of sadness and happiness. "When I met Shiloh, she was just a girl, just thirteen years old. She showed me the way she interpreted nature, creating eccentric, mystical art on sacred mounds. She asked my help to decorate her work to give it spiritual significance, so I donated her a few ceremonial artifacts from my collection."
Alek frowned, a thought teasing his brains, a revelation on the tip of his tongue.
Yet it was Eliot who murmured, "She's put ceremonial items on her land art…Why?" His pensive tone suggested he was on to something. Alek couldn't wait to hear what it was. "That's part of what makes her land art work as ley lines, isn't it?" Eliot continued. Viho nodded, his gestures weary. Then Eliot really surprised Alek. "Would I be correct in assuming that you've a backup plan buried in there somewhere?"
Viho nodded, clearly admiring Eliot's ingenuity. Alek was impressed as well. Viho said, "I ensured that, if even a single artifact from her land art is misaligned with the other effigy mounds, their spiritual effect is reduced to nothing."
While Alek had his doubts about the spiritual power of symbolic objects, in the end it did not matter. If Viho was correct, then changing Shiloh's art in a single place—like the back garden here—perhaps the ley lines wouldn't activate and Crimson wouldn't be able to emerge in this phase at all, the dimensional barrier unbroken.
Finally they had hope, a window of opportunity and a rough plan.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Fall leaves created a colorful canvas of the trees lining the garden. The grass was still fresh and green but covered in damp, browning leaves. Thick bushes obscured much of the view into the heart of the field.
Picturesque was definitely an apt term, a befitting stage for a grand artist like Shiloh.
Eliot wondered if either Shiloh or Crimson would be swayed by the beauty in the world. They had to try to reach them, to reason with them and negotiate peace, if possible.
Alek snuck ahead of them, gun in hand, scanning his surroundings like an experienced soldier. Eliot tried to assume they were on the same page, but he still needed to speak up. "Alek? I know you're ready for anything, but you can't kill Shiloh. She's our only means of communication with Crimson. Leverage, remember? Plus, if she dies, Crimson might get pissed. We should probably avoid that at all cost."
Glancing at Eliot over his shoulder, Alek frowned, obviously disagreeing. Then he nodded curtly and continued to stalk the darkening garden. It was too early for nightfall, but the evening had begun, the somber clouds colored at the edges by an orange-toned sunset advancing at a slow pace.
Eliot could only hope that Alek wouldn't jump off the deep end. They still had a chance.
"There you are. Oh, an audience for my oeuvre."
Everyone stopped dead in their tracks at the sound of Shiloh's voice. Like a vision of old, she stepped out of the shadows. Despite the frosty clime, she wore a simple flowing summer dress of red, like a crimson sunset, mud and dirt and crushed leaves clinging to the thin fabric. Her rust-hued hair cascaded down her slender shoulders and her huge eyes twinkled in the increasing dusk as dark pools of moonlight.
Shiloh waved at the group gathered there, a small gardening shovel in the other hand. "It's so wonderful to meet you all. Have you come to observe my greatest artistic achievement? I assure you, it'll be amazing."
Like a graceful dancer, she spun on her heels and hurried deeper into the garden—where a raised mound could be seen. They would have to reach a higher vantage point to be able to discern what the mound represented.
"That's the enemy of mankind?" Anna's quiet voice was understandably disbelieving.
"She's seems like a lovely hippy lady," Juan remarked, shrugging.
"Appearances can be deceiving," Berry Bomb said with a huff. "Trust me. I'm in showbiz. No one knows better how easily one's semblance can be altered with minute details on looks."
"Are you coming?" Shiloh hollered fr
om up ahead.
"What do you think?" Alek asked Eliot with a whisper as he leaned in. His spicy cologne wafted into Eliot's nose. Eliot tried not to be distracted by it.
"Listen." Eliot paused to get his thoughts into order. "Shiloh has never really had a positive or permanent father figure. Duke gave her freedom to be herself, but also locked her up for apparently being insane. I think Crimson is somehow filling that role for her. She trusts him." Eliot touched Alek's arm, a shot of warmth arcing between them. "You and she and everyone else here are alike. You all have the sixth sense. But you're still human too. That is the side of her you must reach. I know you know how to do that."
Eliot watched understanding dawn on Alek, how his blue eyes glinted hard and his lips formed a thin white line. Yet the agent said nothing, merely turned and followed Shiloh. Biting his bottom lip, Eliot prayed Alek would see that their choices had been reduced to just three—inaction, lethal force, or negotiation—and two of those would end badly.
"What does this piece represent?" Alek asked with a louder voice as he climbed the mound after Shiloh, the others all trailing behind him. No one spoke anymore; everyone was too focused on listening.
Shiloh chuckled. "The last mythkin." She spread her arms wide and twirled in a pirouette, a dreamy sigh escaping past her lips. "Crimson."
Eliot had ascended the grass-covered knoll too but even when looking down he couldn't make out the shape of the earthwork. It was as massive as Native American effigy mounds, though, like the Serpent Mound, spanning wide, yet rising only about three feet high. Eliot squinted to see better but only faint traces of separate "droplets" were visible. Since Crimson was composed of tar sands oil, he probably wasn't completely solid; the image reflected that impression. Eliot shivered.
Apparently Shiloh's other land art pieces all depicted the various species of mythkin; her words confirmed as much. Why were they all necessary? Eliot might never know.
"You love him," Alek remarked then, speaking to Shiloh. Eliot saw Alek lowering his gun.
Shiloh stood in place, blinking. Then she smiled ruefully. "Yes, I suppose I do. Whenever I had nightmares as a child about my visions of the other world, he sang me to sleep, soothed me and told me everything was going to be alright. I never had to be afraid around him."