Pulled to the Dark (The Siriena Series)

by Julia P. Lynde

  "Oh my," she said. "What did you two do last night after you got home?"

  I blew on my fingernails and buffed them. She laughed. Then I pointed to the coffee. She poured a mug. "Cream?"

  I held up a finger, popped to the kitchen, grabbed the cream, and popped back, handing it to her.

  "Thank you." She poured the cream in and looked for a spoon. I shrugged at her, singing the entire time. She drank some of her coffee and asked, "What are we doing today."

  I took a shooting stance and pointed my finger like a gun. I looked at her.

  "You want to go shooting?"

  I nodded and made the universal "call me" gesture.

  "Once Erika wakes up," she said, "We'll clean up and come over."

  I hugged her.

  We hadn't taught her how to open doors yet. We hadn't even wasted time showing them to her. I walked to the wall, then did a "watch me" gesture, pointed to the wall, and made a door.

  I'd gotten better, but mine still weren't as good as Petra's or Andrea's.

  "Whoa!" said Sally. She walked over and looked at it. "It's a door."

  I nodded.

  "I can do that?"

  I nodded.

  I pulled her out of the opening and closed the door. Then I used big gestures to show how I thought about it. I turned my hands back to back, pointing at the wall, and spread them side, as if I were trying to open a closed elevator.

  I opened and closed the wall a few times, then pointed at her.

  I watched her struggle with it. She didn't get anywhere. I hadn't expected her to. None of us had gotten it to work until we'd raised the stakes. Beth, Erika and Karen had all needed to be embedded helplessly in the wall. Erika was the only one who hadn't need the lemon juice in the squirt gun trick.

  She turned to me. "It's not working."

  I walked over to the wall and opened a door, then stood in it and closed it around me. I had misjudged my location and discovered I'd encased myself entirely except for the fingers of my right hand. I wriggled them at her, then pushed the rock back.

  "Felicia!" she was yelling. "Oh my god! I thought you had buried yourself in the rock."

  I closed the wall, this time more careful to keep my face out. I kept my right arm free and my face free, but the rest of me was completely encased. She walked over and looked at me. I was still humming and singing, holding her anchored properly in Siriena.

  "Does that hurt?" I shook my finger back and forth to mean "no". "I'd be terrified."

  I opened the door and stepped back into the room, then I began to position her in the doorway.

  "Oh no!" she said.

  I nodded, hugged her briefly, and pushed her gently towards the opening.

  I closed the opening a little bit at a time, adjusting her as I did so. When it closed around her arms, she began to freak a little. I closed the rest, her head last. I had to push her head backwards slightly as she was struggling to lean forward.

  "Oh god! Oh god!" she said.

  I leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

  I popped back to my bathroom and grabbed some bright pink nail polish. I immediately popped back to the tower. Sally was still encased in the rock.

  I showed her what I had. "What are you going to do with that?"

  I lowered myself to the floor in front of her feet would be if they weren't in the wall. I made a small window, found a leg, and made the window a little bigger, eventually finding her toes. She looked down at me and I grinned up at her.

  "You are not painting my toenails pink!"

  I opened the bottle and began applying polish to her big toe. She almost bowled me over when she exploded from the wall.

  I laughed, then went back to singing. She was standing about ten feet away from me, looking at her offended toe.

  "I can't believe you did that!" she said. "Did you bring any remover?"

  I shook my head.

  "I don't even have any," she said. "Damn it, Felicia."

  I smiled and pointed at the wall. She had left a dent, much like the first time I had. I capped the polish, stood up and walked to her.

  "Oh no," she said. "I'm not going back in the wall."

  I nodded. Yes, she was.

  She played a game of keep away from me. I finally stopped in the center of the room with my hands on my hips, glaring at her.

  "Promise you won't paint my toes."

  I pointed to the wall again.

  "Promise."

  I walked over to her. She let me catch her that time. I pushed her into the wall and closed it. I stood back and crossed my arms.

  She struggled, but she couldn't free herself. I began tapping my fingernails against my arm.

  "I'm trying," she said.

  The tips of her fingers of her right hand were sticking out of the wall. I walked over and pointedly opened the bottle of polish. As soon as I reached for her hand she broke free of the wall.

  I clapped.

  I closed the polish and set it on the dresser then walked to the wall and gestured her to walk over with me. She did skittishly. I pushed on the rock, pushing it back, evening out the opening a little, then gestured for her.

  It took her some time, but she finally got the hang of it. I was just about to make her extend the opening all the way through the wall when she disappeared.

  I grabbed the coffee pot and popped home.

  * * *

  Petra was in the shower and my phone was ringing when I got home.

  "You bitch!" she said, but she was laughing. "I can't believe you painted my nails pink."

  "I have remover here," I told her. "And I'll tell you what Petra did to me. I think you got the better end of the deal."

  "Erika is complaining about being hungry," she said.

  "For you or for food?"

  She laughed and muffled the phone for a second. "For food," she said after a moment.

  "I'll make breakfast."

  "Were you serious about going shooting?"

  "Can we? Is there somewhere we can go? If you and Erika had plans...."

  "No, she wants to go too. We'll be there in a half hour."

  Petra was still in the shower. I stripped out of my clothes and joined her.

  "Hey, Lover," I told her. She turned to face me and pulled me into a deep hug. She held me there for a while. "Are you all right?" I asked.

  "Yes," she said. "Just feeling a little needy."

  "Welcome to my world," I told her. "Everyone is coming over though, so we have a time limit."

  I washed her back and her hair. She wanted to wash me, but I batted her hands away.

  "Petra," I said.

  "Yes, Felicia?"

  "I want dates. We don't go on dates. I want us to dress up for each other and spend the entire evening building some sexual tension. At least weekly, and not on a schedule. Not in whatever we wore for work, or when anything like that. Real dates."

  She smiled. "I'd like that, too."

  "We have a long time together, and it would be easy to get complacent."

  Then we stepped out of the shower and I let her dry me off. I texted Beth and Karen to come on up. I got dressed again and started pulling breakfast together. Petra came in and said, "Where's the coffee pot?"

  "Good question. I set it down. Maybe the bedroom?"

  She stepped back out and returned in a minute with the pot. She eyed the contents dubiously and poured herself a cup. "Blech," she said. "You make the worst coffee."

  She dumped it and started a fresh pot.

  "I make perfectly fine coffee," I said. "And I can't believe you would hurt my feelings like that after everything I did to you last night."

  She looked over to see if I was serious. I attempted to get my lower lip to tremble. I used to practice in a mirror. "You are so full of it," she said.

  "I don't know what you do differently from what I do," I said. "I kiss every coffee bean individually before I grind it and tell it, 'I love you little coffee bean'."

  "Maybe it's the spit then
. I don't spit on my coffee beans."

  I sighed. "Seriously. What was wrong with my coffee?"

  "It was cold. And I hate rewarmed coffee."

  There was a knock at the door. Petra returned with Karen and Beth in tow. "Erika didn't come home last night," Beth said. "Do you suppose we should call the cop?"

  I laughed. "The cop is on the way with the Erika."

  I finished the preparations for breakfast. I decided to make my decadent special: bacon and crepes with lots of fun stuff to roll up inside them. We had several types of jam, maple syrup, butter, sugar, and brown sugar. People could go to town on them.

  As soon as the doorbell rang, I began pouring batter into the crepe pan and put the bacon on. Beth got the door. I asked Petra and Karen to set the table.

  Petra entered the kitchen with Erika and Sally. I demanded a hug and a kiss from Erika. "Did you have a nice night?" I asked her.

  She glanced at Sally. "Best. Orgasm. Ever."

  Sally actually blushed.

  "Funny," said Petra. "I could say the same thing."

  I grinned at her. "I wasn't sure last night," I told her.

  "Oh pah-lease," she said. "I couldn't move for ten minutes afterwards."

  "That was shock," I told her. "At how forward I was."

  I flipped my crepe and fiddled with the bacon.

  "What's with all the cases?" Petra asked Sally. "Moving in? Erika's apartment is two floors down."

  "I brought some of my guns," she said. "For later."

  "Oh, yeah," I said. "Sally is taking us shooting. Anyone who wants to go is invited. I'm sorry, Petra, I should have asked."

  "No," she said. "That sounds fun. Am I invited?"

  "Of course," said Sally. "Everyone who wants to go. I brought the guns up so we could go over them here where it's quiet."

  "How many did you bring?" I asked. I slid the crepe onto a plate and poured another one.

  "Eight. I think." she said.

  "Eight? You have eight guns?"

  "Oh no," said Erika. "Way more than eight. She only brought some of them, and none of the rifles or antiques."

  "Hey," she said. "I like guns. Guns and cars. A gay female cop who likes guns and cars. I'm a walking cliché."

  * * *

  Everyone seemed to enjoy my crepes. I didn't make enough bacon, but it was what we had. Afterwards, we verified everyone wanted to go shooting.

  Sally transported her guns in bright silver cases, generally one gun per case. She grabbed one of the cases from the rolling cart and set it on the table. She opened it up and began explaining about handguns. She talked about safety first and demonstrated the safety features of the gun she had.

  She showed us a small gun and a big one. She verified they were empty and let us each hold them. I picked up the little one and wasn't at all sure I liked it. I didn't like the big one at all.

  She noticed my expression. "You sure you want to do this?"

  "Yes," I said. I paused. "I may decide I like my swords better though."

  Then she grabbed her purse and pulled out a gun. She opened it and dropped a bunch of bullets on the table before setting it down.

  "This is a small revolver," she said. "It's too small for police work but excellent for the purse."

  She talked about the gun range. Then she said, "I brought three small guns, two medium ones, and two very large ones. We'll buy ammunition there. The small guns aren't that expensive to fire. The large ones run about a buck a round. No one fires a big gun without first demonstrating some competence with a smaller one."

  She answered questions then said, "Is everyone still going?" We were.

  "I didn't ask this. Who has fired a hand gun before?"

  At first no one said anything, then Petra said, "I have." She went into the bedroom and came out with a silver case similar to Sally's cases.

  "I already know what you have in there," Sally said. "It's a piece of crap."

  I looked at her. "You have a gun?"

  She nodded then opened the case. "Holy shit!" I said. "That's a cannon."

  Sally reached over then waited for Petra to nod. She picked it up. "Desert Eagle 50. I bet you hate it."

  Petra nodded.

  "Way too big," Sally said. "Too heavy to carry, too hard to lift, horrible recoil. It's a well-built gun, but completely ridiculous. Sell that thing and buy something you can hold. I would rather you not bring that today."

  We packed everything up. Petra brought her gun.

  "Petra," said Sally. "I really don't want that gun along today. Please put it away."

  "The gun range we're going to is at a dealer? One that might buy it?"

  * * *

  We arrived at the gun shop and range, traveling in two cars. We got out. Everyone grabbed a gun case or two. "The owner is an old friend," Sally said.

  "Former lover?" I asked.

  Sally laughed. "No. Friend of my dad's."

  We stepped into the gun store. There were a few customers milling about, all men. Six women walking in carrying gun cases earned us some attention.

  "Hey, Bud," Sally said to the man behind the counter.

  "Sally," he said. "You brought some friends to flirt with an old man?"

  "They're more likely to flirt with your wife," she said. "How is Mary?"

  "Mary is good," he said, laughing.

  Sally did a round of introductions. "Bud," said Sally. "We need three lanes, if you have them, and some ammo. Plus my friend Petra here has something she wants to get rid of."

  Petra set her case on the counter and rotated it to Bud. He sighed even before opening it. "I received some bad advice," Petra said.

  Bud opened the case and pulled out the gun. He looked it over. He turned to her. "You'll get more if you sell it yourself."

  "I don't want the responsibility," she said. "I'll take whatever you feel is fair."

  He put the gun back in the case and closed it. He offered a sum. "Or if you have an active buyer's permit, we can talk trade for something more appropriate for you."

  "Why don't you hang onto it for now, Bud," Petra said. "And I'll see how I feel after we shoot some of Sally's guns."

  He nodded and put the gun case behind the counter.

  * * *

  We spent a couple of hours at the range. Except for Petra, all of us did poorly at first, but then we each got the hang of it.

  In the end, I was glad we had come, but I decided I had other options. Guns weren't my cup of tea. Petra decided the same thing, as she sold her gun to Bud without discussing a trade. We talked with him for a little while before leaving. He was a nice guy.

  We got to the cars and helped Sally load her guns. "You guys didn't like it," she said.

  "I'm glad we came," I told her. "Thank you. Ever since the break in, I've thought about it. Now I know. I have other options that I feel a lot better with." I paused. "I may ask to go shooting again, but I don't want to buy one."

  Netted

  "Maybe they left," Karen said.

  "I don't believe Vincent has ceded the area to me," Renea said. "His grudge is too deep." She looked around the room. "But perhaps he has become intimidated by the forces. I don't believe he will have had the same success recruiting as we have had." She looked at Sally. "Thank you for joining us."

  Sally nodded. She'd learned to travel to Siriena in record time. All of us were gathered in Andrea's tower.

  We'd been sending scouting expeditions out, staying within an hour's walk of the castle. We hadn't seen anyone. We'd gathered to discuss our options.

  The conversation went around and around.

  I sighed. "Perhaps we need to draw him out."

  "We've tried," Petra said.

  "Maybe we've been using the wrong bait." I looked at Renea. Petra followed my gaze.

  "No," she said. "We couldn't get her away from danger."

  "If Vincent's grudge is with Renea, then it's time he thinks Renea has grown complacent. I believe Renea needs to be seen heading to town." I looked at Pet
ra. "You're about the same size. A wig and the right makeup might do the trick." I looked at Kelly. "And I could pass for Kelly. I'm a little too short, but I bet they wouldn't realize that, especially if I wear boots with a heel."

  * * *

  Three days later, Petra disguised to look as much like Renea as we could make her, and me looking at least passably like Kelly, we left the castle. And stepped onto the trail south to the town. We had discussed taking the horses, but neither of us was a good horsewoman, and we didn't want to abandon the horses if we flushed our quarry and had to evacuate. We expected the twenty-mile walk to take until early afternoon, but at least we wouldn't have to walk back.

  Three hours later I said quietly to Petra. "Bingo."

  "Yes," she said. "I believe you're right.

  There was a tree down across the trail. It looked like the perfect spot for an ambush. The woods on either side were thick, and working our way around the tree was going to be a pain.

  We stopped about twenty yards from the tree. I scanned the brush on either side of the trail but didn't see signs of anyone. "It looks easier on that side," I said pointing right. "I think the tree goes a long way towards the left."

  "Game path," Petra said. I nodded, and we exited the trail to the right, following the game path. We had gone twenty yards off the path when there was noise to our right. We both were startled but turned to face it. Twenty yards away were four men descending from a tree by hanging onto a rope. We didn't realize why until it was too late.

  The ground around us reached up to swallow us. By the time the men reached the ground, Petra and I were dangling in a net ten feet above the ground. The rope the men had come down went up into a tree, through a pair of pulleys, and then down to our net.

  "You have got to be kidding," I said, struggling with the net.

  "Get out of here," she said quietly.

  "If you order, I'll go," I said. "But I think we should wait and see what happens."

  The men tied off their end of the rope. I guess they intended to keep us here for a while. They were chortling and speaking a language I didn't know.

  "Henchmen," Petra said. "I can throw you at them, they would never know what hit them."

  "I think we should save that trick," I said. "There is no one here worth killing, and we can leave whenever we want." I pulled my knife and tried sawing at the net, but soon realized it was made of steel, not rope.