by Calinda B
“Could you see their faces?”
Daniel’s face grew pasty white making her wonder if it had been a mistake to say anything. “Not really. Well, sort of. I don’t really know what El Demonio looks like, but the other head looked like…” She cast her gaze out the window.
“Tell me, dulzura,” Daniel said softly.
She turned to face him, tears in her eyes. “Well, it looked like your face. I’m not a killer, really! I’m the kind of girl who likes to save spiders from the bathtub drain. And I don’t know why I would want your…your…your head! I love you!” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “It’s like when I was kissing you in the yard that night we did the protection spell. My body became infused with electricity, and I wanted to devour you. I wanted to eat you alive.” Her face contorted into a horrible grimace before her head fell back on the headrest. “I don’t know what’s happening to me!”
“Don’t worry, cariño.” He powered up the road, skidding and sliding as he pulled onto the asphalt. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. This makes no sense. But I believe your powers are far, far greater than any of us even imagined.”
“I’m nobody. I’m someone who needs to be soul bound without consultation,” she muttered. “For my own protection.”
“No, cariño, that’s not true. You’re most definitely somebody. Wait until we get to Tom’s. I’ll let him deal with it.”
They arrived at Tom’s a few seconds later. The car came to a skidding stop in the dirt driveway. The rain had stopped and dark gloomy clouds enfolded the sopping landscape, shrouding the hills and trees like a smothering blanket. Daniel leapt out of the car and raced to the other side to open Marissa’s door.
As she stepped out, the clear voice of Tom pierced the air.
“Yip, yip, yip! Get down here, you big beastie.”
“Go!” Daniel stabbed the air with his finger.
“What about you?”
“He’s just going to send me away on the pretense of errands. Just go!”
“Woo, woo, yip, yip, yip, yip, yip. Come on now, come on.”
Marissa shuffled around the corner to see Tom, wearing the same red and gray coat and goofy hunter’s hat, twirling the lure. Buster raced around in circles, darting and zipping through the field.
“About time you arrived. Old Beelzebub up there is getting impatient.”
“Didn’t Daniel tell you about…?”
Ignoring her, Tom kept calling the bird. “Yip, yip, yip, yip, yip! She’s here, Beelzebub. Now get to work.”
A large eagle soared through the sky. “Wow, he’s huge!” Marissa exclaimed.
“He’s a Golden. Wing span of seven feet, Ms. Marissa. He’s a real beauty. Now run over there and pull that lever.” He pointed to a metal pole poking out of the grass.
“What’s that going to do?”
“Do it, and you’ll find out.”
She stood for a moment, and stared at Tom.
“Do it!” Tom snapped.
She hurried over to the lever, noting the dead, soggy grasses all around it.
“Grab it and pull! Beelzebub’s about to take down Buster, he’s so hungry. Go!”
Marissa seized the cold, wet metal and froze.
“Pull!” Tom yelled. “Just do it! Pull hard!”
She yanked on the pole and a rabbit hurtled out of the ground through the grasses, propelled by a small wooden stand attached to a hinge. A trap door! Marissa’s stomach sank as the frightened hare bounded through the field.
The eagle, alert, spied his supper. He turned and swooped through the air, tracking the small bunny.
“Yeah, Beelzebub! Do your thing! Ms. Marissa, get over here and take notes.”
Marissa trudged next to him, her feet wooden. “I don’t have any paper.”
Tom flashed a steely-eyed gaze in her direction. “You have a mind, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Use it.” He folded his arms loosely over his chest and watched the hunt. “Now look at that rabbit. “He’s using his mind to try and outfox Beelzebub.”
“Will he win?” Marissa asked hopefully.
“Maybe. Maybe not. Don’t forget what I told you about the prey and the predator making agreements.” He tapped his head. “Old Beelzebub up there, he can’t afford an injury in the wild. Here, I can take care of him, but he doesn’t know that. He acts just like he would in the wild. Ooh!” Tom excitedly pointed at the rabbit. “Little sucker just stopped. Beelzebub can’t make a sudden turn or he might hurt himself. Score one for Bugs. Remember that.” He tap, tap, tapped the side of his head again. “If you’re prey, use your head and freeze if the situation warrants it.”
If I’m prey. Marissa shuddered and hugged her chest.
Tom looked askance at her. “This is a fair fight, Ms. Marissa. It’s anybody’s game. That bunny’s got tricks up his sleeve. Wait and see.” He pulled one of the tall grasses loose from the ground and stuck it in his mouth. “Eagles hunt for hours. They soar and scan, soar and scan. See him up there just watching?”
Marissa nodded.
“I didn’t hear your answer.”
“Yes.” Marissa sounded like a small girl.
Tom chuckled. “Pull up your big girl britches, Ms. Marissa. This is just a slice of life.” He folded his arms again, chewing on the stem of grass.
Buster ran through the grass, head down, trying to catch the scent of the rabbit and flush it out.
“There he goes. Bugs has just made a run for it. He’s running downhill which is good for Beelzebub. He can snatch him right up.”
The eagle swooped lower, tracking the rabbit’s progress. Buster raced behind him, trying to keep up.
Turn, bunny, turn, Marissa silently urged the small hare.
Tom let out a whoop. “See that!” He swung his arm in the rabbit’s direction. “Mr. Bugs has veered uphill, running at up to 40 miles an hour. Score two for Mr. Bugs. See, Beelzebub’s worried about air turbulence catching his wings. The air tumbling down the hill could snag him and cause him to hurt himself. He don’t want that, no sir.” He shook his head, grinning. “What did I tell you, Ms. Marissa? Fair fight!” He put his hand over his eyes, scanning the field. “I think the bunny has frozen again. Beelzebub just made a turn, and I don’t see Bugs. Now Beelzebub, his eyesight is eight times better than ours. He can spot his supper from two miles away. He’ll keep an eye out for old Bugs, there, casting his sharp eyes over the field for signs of movement. Buster will do his part, too.”
Buster zipped through the grass, head down, tongue lolling.
Marissa clutched her tummy. Please don’t make me watch your death, bunny. You can do it. You can outfox Beelzebub. Her breath came in shallow spurts.
Buster’s pace increased, having sniffed out the hare. The rabbit shot out from hiding.
Tom began shouting. “That’s what I’m talking about. Symbiosis in action! Here it comes, Ms. Marissa, I think Beelzebub’s about to snag him a protein-packed fur bag of dinner. Boom!”
Marissa jerked. “Boom,” she said weakly.
The dog sped after the rabbit and the eagle plummeted from the sky, making a swift, last minute turn. In minutes, the chase ended, the eagle voicing his victory, spreading his wings across the limp bunny.
“That’s 150 miles per hour of speed and an experienced bird’s maneuver. See how he just flipped around and caught that poor bunny? Remember that.” He tapped his temple. “When you’re the predator, use your smarts. Don’t make a beginner’s move like moving toward the prey in a straight line.” Tom reached down to retrieve the lure.
When I’m the predator? Marissa tugged on one of her tresses, twirling it around and around her finger.
Tom took off at a trot toward the grisly scene. “Come on, girl, let’s go fetch us some supper.”
Marissa followed along, tears pricking her eyes. “I don’t like this, don’t like this, don’t like this,” she lamented, blinking to see through the stinging tears blinding impairing her vision.
Tom approached the bird and the dog, clucking and cooing. The eagle pulled downy tufts of fur from the rabbit pelt. “That’s it. Easy, Buster. Get away. Here now, Beelzebub. I got you some food. Here now.” He extended his leather bound wrist, and the eagle released his prey and climbed aboard. Tom grabbed the rabbit’s ears with the other hand and hefted it in the air.
It reminded her of her vision of dangling heads in her hands. She regarded the big bird thoughtfully as he pulled and shredded the bloody treat in Tom’s fist. She shuffled up next to him, tears trickling down her cheeks. “Shouldn’t we pray for the rabbit’s soul or something? Send him to the light?”
Tom regarded her with something like tenderness, making her leaky eyes leak even more. “Ms. Marissa…” He shook his head side to side. “You can’t be a wimp and learn to be a sorceress or Light Rebel at the same time, girl. It don’t work that way. You’ve got to be strong. You’ve got to be fearless. You got it in you, I know you do. Daniel told me about your visions.”
“When he and I were…?” Her face flamed brilliant red and the flush spread to her neck and chest.
“Were what?” Tom said, his eyes twinkling. “Fornicating? No, he didn’t mention that.” He chuckled. “Good for Daniel. Good for you, too, I hope.”
Marissa wanted to go run and hide in the field, like the rabbit. “Ether meeting?” she asked, staring at her feet.
“Nope, he just communicated with me mind to mind, the way we do.”
The way you trained sorcerers do, Marissa grumbled silently. “Well, he raced over here after I told him like we were going to put out a burning building. You seem rather nonchalant.”
“Not in the least. This is serious business. I just wanted you to see this. It’s all part of the training. We’re going to consume this rabbit for supper, and you and me – we’re going to have a little chat.”
“We have to eat the bunny?” Marissa’s lip curled back.
“You bet we do. You don’t think I do this for play, do you? We kill, we eat. No waste.”
“Yeah, but…”
“No buts about it. We live the life of the hunter, lest we become the hunted.”
A weird shiver rolled through her gut.
“Now old Beelzebub here, he’s an efficient killer.”
There’s that efficient word again. Marissa clamped her arms around her torso. “Efficient. Uh huh.”
“These claws here can apply 950 pounds per inch of pressure.” He clutched his hand into a tight fist until it trembled. “Bugs was dead the minute Beelzebub struck. Boom!” He jabbed the air with his free hand.
Marissa jerked again. She wondered if she’d ever get used to that exclamation. “Boom.”
“We’re going to get you started with the lure tomorrow.”
“I have to work.”
“We’ll do it after work, then. You have to start training, Ms. Marissa, you have to get this.” Tom gently hefted the bird up and down. “A good ten pounds here, Beelzebub is. We’ll start you off with a falcon. They’re smaller. When you’re ready you’ll get your own predator.”
A smile appeared on Marissa’s face then quickly disappeared as she examined the blood dripping off of the hare.
“Something you have to know about Beelzebub here. Eagles bond with people. I’ll never let you hold Beelzebub. It’s for your own good. Falcons – they’re hunters, but they’re not so bad to handle. Old Beelzebub is like a bad-tempered attack dog. He’s got a bad-ass attitude. I have to show him that I’m the boss. I’m the bigger dog.”
The sharp, golden eyes took in everything as the eagle shredded and swallowed the remains of his supper. He did, in fact, look quite powerful.
Tom’s ease with the bird impressed her. Overcome by curiosity, she asked, “How do you do that?”
Tom’s eyebrows lifted slightly and he smiled. “I’ll show you after supper. But right now we need to put Beelzebub’s hood on and tuck him into bed.”
They walked amiably toward the house, with the bunny in tow, Buster trotting by Tom’s side. “You’re going to prep this rabbit.”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“Daniel can show you. He’s a fine cook. Matter of fact, he’s probably in the kitchen right now, preparing the base for the bunny.”
“The base?” She wrinkled up her nose.
“You know, the soup stock. You got to have the right base to cook your kill in.” He took a few more steps before adding, “It’s a simple process to prep game. You have to cut off the paws and the head – boom!”
Marissa jumped once again.
“Once you do that, he’s no longer Bugs. Now he’s supper. You take off the head and you remove the personality. He becomes a pile of meat.”
Once more Marissa pictured holding dangling heads in her hands.
“You pull back the skin at the neck and pull the skin off the leg, just like you’re taking off your socks.”
“Except that my legs don’t bleed when I take off my socks.”
Tom glanced over at Marissa and smirked. “Was that a joke, Ms. Marissa? Did you manage to find a little bit of humor out in the field?”
“Kind of.” A wan smile appeared and then vanished.
“The part that might cause you to lose your cookies is the intestines. We have to slice down the belly and get all them guts out. We have to be really delicate with the little green gland in the liver. That’s where all the bile is stored. If that gets cut, the meat is tainted and there goes all Beelzebub’s hard work. You don’t want him to feel like he’s not doing his job properly, do you?”
Marissa cocked her head up at Tom. “No, we wouldn’t want that.” She imagined herself pulling out bunny guts, her hands all bloody – just like holding a man’s head in her hands.
“You’re a mite possessed about men’s heads, Ms. Marissa.”
Her head whirled toward Tom. “How do you know?”
Tom smiled and did not answer. “After that, we chop the meat up, cook the shit out it – excuse my French – and dinner is served. We’ll have to dispose of the remains properly. Don’t want Buster here to get no worms.”
“Ew. No, we don’t want that.”
“And we don’t want us to get no worms, neither. That’s why we cook the bejeezus out of the bunny.”
Marissa’s stomach turned.
They reached the house, and Tom extended the dead bunny to Marissa. “Here, take this into the kitchen. It’s right through that door there. I gotta go tuck in Mr. Beelzebub here and then I’ll be right in. Ask Daniel where the gloves are. He’ll also get you an apron to wear. You’ll make a fine kitchen wench.” He winked at her.
Marissa regarded the rabbit like it was radioactive. She took a small step backward.
Tom’s face grew cold. “This ain’t no game we’re playing here, Marissa. Take the dang rabbit and go inside. Maybe when we take the rabbit’s guts out, we’ll shove them into you. You don’t seem to have any.”
“I do, too!”
“I haven’t seen them.”
“They’re right here, standing in front of you, safe inside my belly. And they’re going to stay safe.” Marissa’s belly surged with heat as she said this.
Tom’s eyes glinted with fire. “Nothing about you is safe right now, Ms. Em. Nothing! You’re in the middle of a mess of trouble and you’re not prepared. If you hadn’t met Daniel, you’d be dead as this rabbit in a matter of days.” He shook the limp bunny in her face. “I’ll bet you’re just wah, wah, wahing inside about ‘why did this happen to me, what am I going to do, wah, wah, wah.’ What you’re going to do, girl, is pull up your britches and get to work. Fun time is over. Play time – gone – boom! You got to find your power and wield it! Now take the dang rabbit!”
Marissa scrubbed her palms up and down her thighs. Her stomach had bunched like Tom’s hand squeezed her guts, demonstrating the torque of an eagle’s talons. Her breath came in shallow pants as her hand reached out for the hare. She curled her fingers around the ears and brushed Tom�
��s hand in the process. Electricity sparked from her hand.
“Feel that?” Tom roared. “That’s coming from you! Own it!”
“I’m trying,” she wailed.
“Not hard enough. You’re nothing but a big sissy. My grandbaby’s braver than you are.”
Ouch. She took another step back, holding the rabbit away from her like it might bite her.
“The dang rabbit’s dead. Hold it like you mean to hold it. Hold it like you’re proud of what this bird here just did for you.” He raised the hooded eagle high, causing the plumes at the top of the leather hood to bob and sway and the eagle’s wings to flap. “Your Daniel is a patient man. I’m not. My little bit of patience with you is shot. You’re not in kindergarten anymore. You’re in the big leagues now.” He lowered the bird and cooed to it. “Easy, Beelzebub, easy. I’m not mad at you.”
Furious, Marissa squared her shoulders and dropped her arm, clutching the deceased hare. She took a deep breath and glared at Tom. “Is this better?”
“It’ll have to do until you can find better.”
“What got your panties in a twist, old man?” Marissa said defiantly.
Tom’s eyes widened briefly. “Okay, so there might be hope for you – might.” He turned and stomped off, muttering to himself, the bird, or the dog.
Shaking like the bunny must have an hour ago, Marissa turned and clomped into the kitchen, holding the bunny in her trembling hand like a quivering prize.
Chapter 22
“I skinned a bunny rabbit,” Marissa told Sober as she was preparing for bed. “It was weird, but I did it. Then I chopped it to bits with a cleaver and ate it.” She mimicked whacking the meat, shouting “Hiya!” Then, she closed her hand, blew on her fingernails, and rubbed her nails on her shoulder. “Are you proud of me? I’m a bloody carnivore. Grrr.” She balled her hands into fists and crouched down, baring her teeth at the dog. He wagged his tail and licked her face.
Daniel had dropped her off at her home about an hour earlier at her insistence. She needed time to think, time to feed the dog, and time to ponder this so-called trip she was going on. “And I’m going somewhere tomorrow – haven’t a clue where – but you’ll supposedly be well taken care of – by Daniel.” Sober thumped his tail against the wall. “Don’t go taking sides. You’re my dog even though I’m soul bound to another.” Just saying the words invoked the tendrils of connection. They seemed to cast about, seeking and finding their way to Daniel at the merest thought of him. They’d snake from her loins to his and find their way from heart to heart. All kinds of pleasurable sensations would stir inside of her, like some great kettle of passionate stew being prepared inside of her, slowly simmering, bubbling and boiling as circumstances allow.