At the very top of the scrap, and partially obscured by a tear in the paper, was part of a word circled in blood. All that was legible was “rcalegon,” followed by something written in an odd format with Greek and Arabic letters, dots, and funky symbols I didn’t understand at all. Athena had sworn she’d have her people check into it, but it still bugged me. I’d seen something like it before, but I couldn’t recall where. It might have been meaningless, but I didn’t want to think about Sarah, so it was all I had until the phone rang.
Mercifully, the caller was a client upset with my sudden cancellation of a fishing trip. After making amends, I spent another hour calling other clients and apologizing for standing them up, as well. I promised free makeup trips to all of them, and I expected Ned to help make sure they’d be good ones.
Once I’d finished my calls, and to further avoid thinking about Sarah, I began the mindless task of scraping bird crap off the cap rail. I was mumbling to myself about the diet of a sea bird when the repeated wooden creaking along the dock behind me drew my attention.
It was Sarah. She was wearing jeans and a light jacket and had her hair pulled back. There were bruises on one cheek and cuts on her hands and neck, and I knew they covered her arms and legs, too. I could feel my stomach flutter and my pulse quicken the second I saw her. Despite my confusion about what to do with our relationship, and my attempts not to think about it, I was actually happy to see her.
“Nice boat,” she said. “Not much room to sit down, though.”
“It’s a fishing boat. I had her custom built to keep the deck clear of obstructions. Seats and chairs just hang up fly lines and get in the way.”
She pursed her lips in assent. I knew she hadn’t come down there to see the boat. She climbed on board and sat on the bench seat under the T-top.
I threw my brush and rag into a bucket of soapy water. “You doing okay?” I asked, afraid to bring up the subject I knew she wanted to discuss.
She nodded.
“I’m really sorry about the whole raskovnik thing. I should have told you—”
“It’s okay,” she said, holding up her hand to stop me. “Well, not really, but I’ll get over it. I understand that we needed it and that it was the best way to get it. Duma didn’t have to be so happy about it, though.” She shook her head. “Look—”
“I know,” I said, keeping my eyes on a stain on the cap rail, scraping absentmindedly at it with my thumb. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
Athena was right. I hadn’t had a real, serious relationship in hundreds of years. It just wasn’t fair to anyone, not even me. I wanted to think it was for some romantic reason, like not being able to grow old together, but the truth was it was simply too dangerous—for both of us. Caring for Sarah was a weakness—one every one of my enemies would gleefully exploit.
I liked her a lot, and I could even tell she liked me, but we both knew a relationship between us had disaster written all over it. How effective could I be if I was constantly worried about her well-being? Sarah looked out at the boats docked in the basin as we sat there in silence for a few long minutes, both wanting to say something but afraid to speak.
“There’s something else, too,” she finally said with conviction after breathing a heavy sigh. “Now that I know what you are and what you do, I can’t just turn my back on it. On you. I can be an asset, and I can help. Frigate and Geek, too. You don’t have to do this alone. It’s us you’re protecting, so let us help you. And frankly, I thought we did pretty well back there.”
She was right. She was an adult and could make up her own mind. It didn’t hurt that she was highly trained, as were Geek and Frigate. If they wanted to help, I of all people knew I could use it from time to time. I just inclined my head a little.
I saw Ned heading down the dock to us with a bag of chips in one hand and a beer in the other. His shirt was a combination of metallic blues and yellows in a pattern that took serious concentration to identify. Of course, concentrating on it would probably cause a seizure.
“Hey, Ned,” I called out.
Sarah pivoted in the seat, shielding her eyes to get a better look.
“What the hell is that shirt made of? It looks like an oil slick.”
“Nice to see you too, dude. I’m payin’ homage to the Chargers, man,” he said holding up his beer in a mock toast. “But enough about my shirt. Tell me who this is.”
“Sarah, this is Ned. Ned, this is Agent Sarah Wright of the Department of Homeland Security.”
“Aw, shit, dude. The Sarah?” Ned asked, giving me a sideways grin.
“One and the same,” I said, suddenly embarrassed.
“Happy to meet you, pretty lady.”
She laughed.
“Did our friend here tell you anything about me?” he asked, pointing at me with his beer.
“No, not really, sorry,” she said, smiling broadly while she watched him.
I shrugged. Ned was hard to explain. “Ned is actually a Protogenoi in self-exile. He was once a Sea Titan known as Nereus.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened.
I liked that. I would have thought nothing would surprise her anymore.
“That’s me, pretty lady,” he said with a grin. “’Course, now I just surf a little and tell him where to fish. In exchange for beer and chips. Speakin’ of which, dude, there’s a big school of ’cudas off Imperial Beach here to get busy with each other, and them damned greedy white sea bass are plannin’ on crashing their party, man. I say we go teach ’em a lesson.”
“I’m all over it. You want to learn how to fly fish?” I said to Sarah, waggling my eyebrows, only half flirting.
“Sure, but bring a regular rod just in case.” She grinned.
“I’m surrounded by heathens.” I laughed and shook my head as I ran back up to my truck to get some rods.
Still, she had potential.
Dear Reader,
We hope you enjoyed Havoc Rising, by Brian S. Leon. Please consider leaving a review on your favorite book site.
Visit our website to sign up for the Red Adept Publishing Newsletter to be notified of future releases.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Brian S. Leon is truly a jack-of-all-trades and a master of none. He began writing in order to do something with all the useless degrees, knowledge, and skills–most of which have no practical application in civilized society–he accumulated over the years.His varied interests include, most notably, mythology of all kinds and fishing, and he has spent time in jungles and museums all over the world, studying and oceans and seas across the globe chasing fish, sometimes even catching them. He has also spent time in various locations around the world doing other things that may or may not have ever happened. Inspired by stories of classical masters like Homer and Jules Verne, as well as modern writers like J.R.R. Tolkien, David Morrell, and Jim Butcher, combined with an inordinate amount of free time, Mr. Leon finally decided to come up with tales of his own.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Several people made this book possible, and without their constant help and support, it would have remained little more than an idea. I have to thank Teri for her encouragement and willingness to allow me to pursue this nutty endeavor. Without her, nothing would have ever been written. This book is because of and for her. I also have to thank Kathe and Glen Goddard for their willingness to be my beta readers when no one else would.
Many thanks to Meghan Pinson at My Two Cents Editing. Her invaluable input, editing, professionalism, and enthusiasm for this book helped me actually get it out.
Lastly, I have to thank Alyssa Hall, my editor at Red Adept Publishing. Her coaching, comments, and suggestions really helped me improve the story in so many ways I cannot enumerate them. Her constructive guidance taught me more about writing than any class I ever took. And she made the ed
iting process enjoyable.
Havoc Rising Page 37