Paldimori Gods Rising Box Set

by T. L. Callahan

  Welcome to the Paldimori Games, Jillian Davies.

  6

  Sitting at my bay window in my condo the next day, I watched the waves lap on the shore beyond my backyard. It was mid-morning and I was still in my pj’s. There wasn’t any point in opening the gallery. I would drive myself crazy looking for things to do to kill the time. Besides, I needed a break from being stared at like I was a circus act.

  Last night had been my first night of restful sleep in a while. Telling off Brice really was therapeutic. And maybe having a plan, even if was in the form of this mysterious game, made me feel more in control. Unfortunately, sitting around at home left too much time to think. Hugging my knees to my chest, I absently toyed with the hem of my pajama pants. Had I made the right decision to enter the game?

  My internal debate was interrupted by a thump followed by a sque-e-e-e-ak sound from outside the front of my condo. Rushing to the front window, I stared in puzzlement at a large solid circle of pink surrounded by three rings of orange that someone had painted on it. The center circle had a happy face drawn on it in yellow, and what appeared to be glitter sparkled in the sunlight. Movement in the flowerbed caught my eye. Dia waved, then hefted my garden gnome onto her shoulder.

  My head cocked to the side. What is she doing?

  Dia squinted one eye while holding her thumb up in front of her face. She nodded to herself then spread her legs wide before she gripped the gnome with both hands. Her lips form the words “three.” Then “two.”

  Oh shit!

  I scrambled to the front door, my fingers clumsy in my haste to unlock it. “Dia, don’t you dare!”

  Finally managing to unlock the door, I tripped down the steps of the concrete landing, windmilling my arms as I tried to keep my balance while barreling forward. “What a Wonderful World” blasted from the pink phone lying next to Dia on the ground. Waving my arms like an air traffic controller, I tried to halt the unscheduled garden gnome flight she was lining up to pitch through my window. My neighbors were likely crafting new rumors to spread about my hostage negotiations with someone who looked like Rainbow Bright.

  “Dia! Put the nice gnome down. He hasn’t scheduled a flight plan. I don’t need the FAA knocking on my door,” I pleaded.

  “The FAA only care about drones, not gnomes. I checked. Besides, I’m only a concerned citizen doing my duty to check up on a missing person. Did you know that the police don’t consider someone who won’t answer their phone as missing? Who isn’t glued to their phone these days? I told them I also haven’t seen this supposed friend of mine in about a month.” She glared at me in accusation. “Although I’ve dropped in on her work and her home about a million times. It’s almost as if my friend is avoiding me, but I know that can’t be right.”

  Avoiding anyone? Who, me?

  I would have some major making up to do. With Dia, that usually involved shopping. “I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t right to disappear on you again. I just didn’t want to bring you down with me.”

  “Sweetheart, you think you’re keeping the bad things away from me, but you haven’t figured out yet that bad things happen to everyone.” Sympathy softened her glare. “I would rather experience everything life has to offer than live in a bubble. You keep trying to put me in that bubble by running as far away as possible like you’re going to self-destruct and wipe me out if I’m anywhere near you. I don’t need protecting.”

  How could I not try to protect her? She was all I had left. Dia was like a vibrant rose blossoming in a field of thistles. She was kind and so full of life. There was too much in this world that could snuff that out. I had seen it happen.

  “What happened in your past was horrible. No one should ever have to go through that. You grew up with the perfect life, and then it all changed. Anyone would have been devastated. But when you disappeared, I spent every day wondering when I would get the call telling me you were dead too.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “That was worse than anything that could have happened if you had stayed so we could work through it together. They may not have been my parents, but I felt their loss. Then I lost you too. What you’re going through now sucks. I’m only asking that you try—for both of us—to let me be there for you. Ok?”

  It finally dawned on me how upset she was, how scared. Her bottom lip trembled. Her fingers were white-knuckled where she gripped the gnome. There was a cautious hope in her teary eyes that I had never seen before. Guilt punched me right in the chest. This was all on me. I had taught the innocent girl she had been all those years ago to mistrust. I had caused her the very pain I was trying to protect her from. Swallowing down the splinters of guilt, I vowed that I would earn back that trust and erase the pain.

  “Ok.”

  She smiled brightly. “You know what this means, right?”

  “Let the torture begin.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Yay, shopping!” She squealed in delight as she rushed me. The gnome tumbled off her shoulder and made a sad crunch when it hit the ground. I winced. There went another phone. At least the music had stopped. Dia was too busy hugging me and rambling on about cute summer styles to notice. It was going to be a long day.

  * * *

  My arms ached from the mountain of jeans, tops, underwear, and whatever else Dia had managed to sneak into the pile. All clothing that I apparently could not live without. Sighing for the hundredth time since being dragged on this shopping trip, I tottered along precariously while she flitted from rack to rack like a manic butterfly. Why anyone needed anything other than well-worn jeans and comfy tees, I would never know.

  Secretly, I enjoyed how excited Dia got when doing her fairy godmother routine. She would dress me up, and we would spend an evening out on the town. Generally, that meant driving to one of the larger cities since the nightlife in Port Lawson was pretty nonexistent. Then we would go back to my place for my version of fun, which involved comfy pj’s, chocolate, and movie marathons. Dan-the-Downer usually called way too early the next morning whining about Dia coming home. The lectures would start before she even made it out the door about us being two grown women who shouldn’t still be having sleepovers. That man seriously needed a stick-ectomy.

  Today Dia had dragged me to a trendy shop in the downtown district of the large city just down the coast from us. The store, Starlets on Main, was classier than the regular ones she picked. The theme was red-carpet inspired. Mannequins dressed in chic summer dresses, halter-tops, and swimsuits posed amongst the clothes racks. The air smelled like lemon drops, and pop music was playing over the speakers. It made me want to run right back out the door.

  “I’m so proud of you for doing this, Lia.” Dia bounced around me.

  I grumbled under my breath, shifting my bundle to navigate around a mannequin that looked like Marilyn Monroe.

  “Oh, look at this swimsuit! This would look awesome with your skin tone.” Dia squealed as she tossed scraps of fabric on top of the giant pile in my arms.

  I nudged the swimsuit aside with my chin and worked my tongue to remove the stray thread that had managed to make it into my mouth. “Dia, I don’t need a new swimsuit. I don’t need twenty pair of lacy underwear. I definitely don’t need the push-up bra that’s going make me the first female to ever suffocate in her own cleavage. And I’m pretty sure the saleslady will be calling the news stations claiming she had a sighting of a walking mountain of clothes. Or, with the way she’s been eyeballing me, it’ll be the cops. Can we please go home?”

  Dia finally noticed my struggle and sighed. “Fine, fine. Spoil my fun.” Then she tugged a few items from the pile—like that would reduce my burden. “Will you at least try on that burgundy romper? Please. For me?”

  I huffed. “Ok, geez. I’ll try it on, if only to set this stuff down and get the blood flowing back into my arms.”

  We made our way to the fitting rooms. Half of the room was a sitting area with a cluster of fainting couches in red brocade. The other side consisted of dressing rooms. I dumped the load of cl
othes onto one of the couches and started massaging the prickling sensation out of my arms. A streak of burgundy suddenly smacked me upside the head. I glared at Dia, grabbing the garment before it hit the floor.

  “I thought you were in a hurry to get home, Lia.” She smiled innocently. “What’s taking so long?”

  Dia’s laughter followed me as I grumbled my way over to a dressing room. My friend may have been a hippie-wannabe about most things, but she was a tyrant when it came to her makeover missions. That pile of clothes was going to grow while I was in here trying on this torture device disguised as fashion. At least she wasn’t making me try on everything.

  The dressing room was larger than expected with a padded red bench and three mirrored sides. Setting the romper on the bench, I quickly stripped down to my plain beige underwear. Then I pulled the silky material up my body. It felt super soft against my skin. Huh, not as clingy as expected.

  Cautiously, I peeked at the mirror directly in front of me. Deep brown eyes looked back at me in widened surprise. The high cheekbones of my round face were flushed a light pink from my war with the clothes pile and were even more pronounced from the severe bun I had piled my hair into. The deep V-cut of the garment showed off my plain bra and a shocking amount of my generous cleavage. My eyes wandered down to the flare at the waist that thankfully concealed my stomach. The loose shorts bottom looked more like a skirt and showed off smooth alabaster legs to mid-thigh.

  “I know you’re so quiet in there because you’re in awe, right?” Dia asked from the other side of the door.

  I would never admit it, but at that moment, I really was.

  “What can I say, it’s a superpower. I think I might need a cape. Do you think Shopping Genius or Fashion Defender would be a better name?”

  Wow, I look pretty good.

  Dia knocked on the door. “Lia, are you ok in there?”

  I snapped guiltily to attention like I hadn’t been staring at my ass in the mirror, and started removing the romper. “Ok, so maybe you do know a little about dressing me. But if you get a super-heroine name like Fashion Defender, then I get to call myself Obi-Wan Lia-nobi.”

  I smiled as she muttered something about my stupid movie fetish. My efforts to convert her into a fan hadn’t worked in all these years, so I was probably safe from having to go cape shopping for now.

  “Uh, thanks, Dia,” I mumbled quietly.

  “Aw, you finally appreciate my superpowers!” Dia chuckled and started pairing clothes into outfits. “So, you’re leaving me in a week?”

  “Yep. A car is picking me up next Sunday afternoon to take me to a private airstrip. Then it’s a plane ride to wherever the Games are being held. I’ve been assigned a guide or something, who I’ll meet when I get there. The e-mail was pretty vague on the details; just lots of ‘you shall not’ stuff.” I finished dressing and stepped out of the fitting room. “Thanks for taking care of Whimsy while I’m gone.”

  “Anything for my bestie,” Dia smiled over her shoulder. “It’ll be interesting to do something besides teach.”

  Nerves and doubts started creeping in again. “Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

  “Lia, you can’t back out now!” Dia turned and grabbed my hands. “So what if you don’t win the money. This is an adventure. Go snorkeling. Meet some hot guys and have sweaty forget-your-name sex. Spend the day laying on the beach.” She hugged me. “Whatever you do, forget about everything happening here and have fun. You need this. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  7

  The sight of the black Lexus pulling into my driveway Sunday afternoon halted my nervous pacing. It was a struggle to fight down the urge to hide in my room and pretend I didn’t hear the knock at the door. Time had been my enemy as I watched the minutes tick by all night, unable to fall asleep. Every time I had drifted off my eyes would pop right back open seconds later as a new worry sprang to mind. Counting sheep hadn’t worked. They had all turned suicidal and jumped off a cliff. Meditation started out ok until my mind kept conjuring up scenarios on how this could all go wrong. Like being sold into the sex trade to a sweaty old guy who called me Mama. My breath had started billowing in and out so quickly I sounded more like I was practicing Lamaze. I almost coughed up a lung from choking.

  My hand hesitated on the doorknob. Was it too late to change my name and leave the country?

  No, I was going to do it. This was to save my gallery and to fulfill the promise I had made last night to Dia. To give this thing a chance. Knowing her, she was probably hiding in the neighbor’s bushes to make sure I got in that car.

  Here we go. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door.

  Standing on my front step was a slender young woman in a black pantsuit. Her white-blonde hair was styled in a choppy pixie cut tipped in navy blue to frame her oval face. Her eyes were a smoky blue-gray that seemed to swirl with mysteries as she gave me a quick head-to-toe glance. Her mouth stretched into a mischievous smile as she held her hand out.

  “Hi, I’m Molly West. Chauffeur and your personal guide for the Games. Love the outfit.”

  She gripped my hand in a surprisingly firm handshake as nerves swirled in my stomach. “Oh uh, hi. Thanks. Nice to meet you, Ms. West. I’m Jillian Davies. Um, I thought I wasn’t going to meet my guide until I got to the island?”

  She shook her head. “Call me Molly. Nope, that would be your Kyrion. You’ll meet him there.”

  “Kyrion?”

  “Think of him like a manager, only way cuter.” She laughed.

  She glanced at my suitcase, her brows pulling together. “That the only bag you’re taking? For a four-week trip?”

  “Yes, this is it. I figured why pack the house when I’ll probably be forced to eat bugs and make my own clothes out of palm leaves or something.”

  Molly found that hysterical. Her laugh was infectious and the tension eased from my shoulders. “Palm leaves . . . that’s great. I like you already. We’re gonna get along just fine. Come on, let’s get a move on. Can’t keep Captain Quickdraw waiting.”

  Molly walked me to the rear door of the car and ushered me inside. I could hear her talking on the phone as she placed my luggage in the trunk. My clammy hands pressed into the supple leather seat, readying myself to jump from the car depending on what happened next. Hopefully my guide wasn’t about to turn into an evil henchman, because I wasn’t dressed for ass-kicking.

  Blame it on Dia. Somehow she had talked me into “making a statement” my first time meeting a bunch of strangers. Not really sure what statement she was going for, but even I could admit that I looked good. My hair was pulled back and styled into big loose curls. Lush red lips and smoky eyes had me doing a double-take every time I caught my reflection. The girls were showcased in an off-the-shoulder white top and the asphyxiation-inducing bra. Coupled with a burgundy tulle skirt, my waist had never looked smaller. The matching lace-up flats made my legs appear miles long. If it was Dia’s intention to make me look like a pin-up girl, she’d hit a bull’s-eye.

  Molly slid behind the wheel and backed out of the driveway. Glancing out the window at my condo as we drove away, I was struck by the fact that my life was at a precipice. I would come home with the money to save Whimsy or I would come back to close the doors. Either way, a new chapter of my life was starting. It was all up to me now.

  “So, Jillian Davies, tell me about yourself,” Molly prompted, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

  “Please call me Lia.”

  We chatted all the way to the airport. Molly was entertaining company. By the time we pulled up to a security booth outside a tall iron gate, most of my nerves had disappeared. Molly talked briefly with the security guard, then pulled through the gate. We drove beside the high stone wall and stopped in front of one of several airplane hangars. Molly grabbed my suitcase, and I followed her over to a small white airplane. There was a small black symbol on the tail of the plane that I couldn’t quite make out, but no other identifying marks.

  A tal
l man dressed all in black descended the airplane steps as we approached. He removed his sunglasses as he came to a stop in front of me and tucked them into the collar of his button-up shirt. His smile was friendly and welcoming as he nodded to me but slipped from his face as he greeted my guide. “Ms. West.”

  “Captain, this is Ms. Davies,” Molly stated, suddenly sounding much more formal. “This is Captain Jack Matthews. He will be your pilot for this trip.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Davies,” the captain said, bringing my hand to his lips. He smiled up at me as his soft lips brushed my knuckles, and two sexy dimples appeared on his scrubby cheeks. When he straightened, he held onto my hand as his hazel eyes took me in from head to toe. Was this guy for real? This was the most blatant eyeing-up I’d ever seen.

  When his eyes reconnected with my entertained ones, the dimples came back out to play. Even someone with my limited experience could tell that this one was an unrepentant flirt. I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing when I remembered Molly’s nickname for him—Captain Quickdraw. If that was a reference to his flirting, he was certainly armed and quick on the draw. Finally dropping my hand, he said, “We have clear skies all the way and have been cleared for takeoff as soon as you’re settled. Let me help you to your seat.”

  “Thank—”

  “Ms. Davies doesn’t need help to her seat. I doubt she’s going to get lost making her way up the steps to the only entrance,” Molly snapped at him with a glare. Then she turned to me. “Pick any of the four seats and get comfortable. I’ll go put your luggage away.” She spun on her heel and stomped her way up the steps of the plane.

  Captain Matthews jerked as if she had elbowed him in the stomach. His thunderous gaze followed her retreating form. A little too closely. There was definitely some ogling going on. When he finally dragged his eyes back to me, I gave him a knowing look. He ducked his head and ran his fingers through his shoulder-length light brown hair. “Uh, right. I better go check . . . stuff. See ya around.” Then he fled toward the hangar.