by Ramy Vance
So that was it. He couldn’t care less about the issues between Justin and me. He was worried about something else entirely.
I grabbed Seth’s hand. It was coarse, like a thin filament of sand on leather, and being this close to him, I could smell the earth. And I don’t mean the ground that I stood on. That was covered in snow, its scent hidden from noses as powerful as Egya’s. What I mean is, from Seth I could smell the earth as if it was a cool spring day in some lush forest.
An apu’s natural scent.
“Seth—I thought we were friends. What’s going on—?”
“Attraction.” He said that word like it explained everything.
It didn’t.
“Attraction?” I tried to color my voice with all shades of confusion. Most of the time Others didn’t clue into those verbal cues.
But Seth was a bit more adept at human nuances than most Others.
Seth smiled, revealing teeth the color of pearls. “Yes. Attraction.” He chuckled, his expression softer, like he was remembering that we were friends. “As in, you are one who attracts.”
“Hey, I know I’m cute, but—”
He waved a dismissive hand. “You hide behind your humor. But hiding now will only get you and those you love killed.”
“OK,” I said, shaking away the joke I had. Too bad—it was a doozy. “I think I understand. You think that my presence is somehow going to bring out the big nasties from the woodworks.”
“No. Those monsters are already here. I think you are going to bring them to us.” He leaned in close, pulling me toward him, and whispered in my ear, “They are changing. And with that change, they will bring destruction to the world. And your presence can only mean bad luck.”
I pulled away to look at him. I mean, really look at him. His eyes were a stormy gray now, any hint of blue gone.
For most humans, bad luck wasn’t real. Sure, crossing paths with black cats or walking under ladders often elicits the thought of Did I just give myself some bad luck? But that was a thought that most would quickly dismiss and forget.
Others are a suspicious bunch—but then again, wouldn’t you be if you actually knew that magic, curses and hexes were real? And if that kind of stuff was real, then it stands to reason that bad luck is real, too.
But to Others, it was more than just a real concept. Accidently imbuing themselves with bad luck usually meant purification rituals and hiding until the timeframe of that bad luck passed.
So if he was going full superstitious Other on me, then the only thing I could do was go full Other on him. “Apu, cave entity and protector of the O3 clan,” I said, “if bad luck comes this way, tell me so I can do whatever is necessary to alter its course.”
The apu shook his head. “The course is set. But you, Katrina, act like a pull, drawing it closer than it would otherwise come. You must leave.”
He was serious. He really wanted me to go. As in, away. Leave this frat house, leave the campus, leave Montreal. “I cannot do that.”
Seth nodded, pursing his lips with a solemn resolve. “Then prepare to lose much.”
“Seth, please—tell me what’s going on. Please.”
“I can’t, Kat. I was made to take an oath.”
“By who?”
“Who do you think?” he said, gesturing behind him.
Shit, Others and their oaths. They took those kinds of things very seriously, and little could make them break it. Torture, threatening loved ones, even death would not move an Other to break an oath.
But the flip side to that was Others did not make an oath unless they didn’t believe it absolutely necessary. This apu—this protector—took his oath because he believed keeping whatever secret he held would do more good than harm.
“OK,” I said. “I will not ask you again. But I cannot go. Not until I know for sure that my presence is truly bad luck that will bring ruin here. Once I know that for sure, I will either do what I must to help, or I will leave.”
“By then it will be too late.”
“Perhaps,” I said. “Bad luck and fate rarely end in carnivals and parties.”
Seth smirked. “Indeed. The gods were sadistic when creating such concepts. Very well, but know that should things progress, I will do whatever I must to protect my brothers.”
A threat? Absolutely. He had chosen this frat house and its members as his to protect. That meant he would go to the farthest extremes to shield them from danger.
Even if it meant killing someone he considered a friend.
“I understand.”
“Good.” He nodded behind me. “It seems you have attracted some of that bad luck already. He will be home soon. I can sense him.”
And with that, the apu went inside to leave me alone, waiting for Justin. Given that he just told me I had attracted more bad luck, I could only assume that when Justin did turn up, he wouldn’t be alone.
I waited for about an hour, alone and cold, until I saw Justin. He was holding the hand of the beautiful redhead, and she too looked surprised.
As soon as they saw me, his mouth opened wide in shock and surprise.
So did hers, only her surprise carried with it a hint of sadness, too.
“Hi Justin,” I said, my eyes fixated on their clasped hands. “I see you’ve been busy.”
KEEP READING
9 - THE HEAVIEST OF BURDENS
A BEGINNING OF SORTS
Our timing needed to be perfect.
Not only did we need to get everyone out before the security alarms started ringing, but we had to do it without being noticed. Which meant that we had just under three minutes to hack into the systems and shut it off.
If we got noticed, then we were dead.
If it took longer than three minutes, then we were dead.
When the gods left, it was calculated that the Others had less than a minute to pack up their shit and get out. Most of them got out in time.
Most.
And we had three whole minutes. Plenty of time, right?
Then again, they didn’t need to deal with Memnock Securities and double authentication passwords.
A guard came around the corner just as expected. I kicked him in the chin before putting him in a sleeper hold. Anyone who’s ever done one of those would tell you they are an absolute waste of time. It takes minutes for someone to go under, and even then, they wind up waking up in a minute or two.
Good thing the hold was only mean to hold. Egya came up behind me and injected the poor guy with something a little bit more permanent. “He’ll wake up in about three days with one hell of headache,” Egya said as he plunged the syringe into the guard’s neck.
Egya wasn’t wearing a shirt, and coarse tufts of brown-and-black fur lined his chest like armor. About six months ago, Egya was reminded how to shift back to his hyena form without magic, but he couldn’t quite make the full transformation, settling on this hybrid—boy-slash-hyena form.
I was OK seeing my friend with an elongated nose and claw-like hands. But the chest hair … yu-uk.
“What?” Egya said as he called over a dwarf who grabbed the limp guard and dragged him over.
“You sure these guys are solid?”
“Yes,” Egya said. “I vetted each one of them. They’ll take the unconscious guards to the quarry near the docks. They’re even leaving behind bottled water and a snack for these guys when they wake up. Oh, and a map.”
“A map?”
“They’re taking them way out. They’ll need it to get home.”
“Oh, OK.” I nodded, not able to take my eyes off his hairy chest.
“Again, what?”
“I know you’re relishing these new transformation powers of yours, but can’t you wear a shirt?”
He ran his hands through the bristled fur. “What? You no likey?”
“I no likey,” I said, and leaned in to give him a big fat kiss on his canine-elongated mouth. “But me toleratey because, overall, the package isn’t bad.”
Egya pulled m
e in close for another kiss, but I put a hand up to stop him. “If we survive this—and I’m not sure either of us will—then …” I said, presenting myself in a Vanna White-style presentation. “But for now, let’s keep our heads and hormones in the game. How many guards are left?”
“None.”
“Time?”
Egya checked his watch. “Two minutes and change, then the alarms go all klaxon-style on us.”
I looked down the hall with frustration. “So where the hell is she?”
“She’ll be here,” Egya said.
“And you’re so sure because she’s reliable. You know, in that faithful kind of way?”
Egya rolled his eyes. “She an encantado. Stealing boyfriends is a socially acceptable pastime.”
“I know,” I said, groaning. It had been a week since I saw her kissing my boyfriend … my ex-boyfriend, and it still stung even though I was over him. I had a new man.
A good one, too, I thought, looking at my grossly hairy new boyfriend. When he’s all man and not half whatever that was.
“Darling, I’m all man all the time.” He smirked.
“Thinking out loud again,” I muttered.
Egya nodded.
“One day I’ll get a handle on my quirk. One day. Until then—” I cut my own words off when I heard footsteps, as a figure rounded the corner.
In the darkness, I couldn’t see if it was her, but Egya’s hyena-like eyes were adept at seeing in the dark. Hunting in the dark. “It’s her,” he said, before narrowing his eyes. “Actually, it’s you.”
As the figure got closer, I saw a woman that was my age, height, hair color, wearing the same tartan I typically wore on one of my vigilante nights out.
She was pretty. Gorgeous, actually. And I’m not saying that because she looked exactly like me.
I’m one hot enchilada, and I know it.
But she wasn’t me. She was the encantado shapeshifter who had taken my form … and I’d never been so relieved to see, well, myself.
BOYFRIENDS, BRAZILIANS AND KAT FIGHTS
Y ou know how when you’ve had a long day, all you want to do is snuggle up under your blankets with a good book, a bucket of chocolate, a bottle of wine and your boyfriend?
Well, I’ve had six months of long days that ended with an even longer stint in the hospital. So when I finally managed to return to Montreal, I figured I’d find Justin and snuggle.
The last thing I wanted was to see him battling a flock of souped-up birds while macking on another woman.
I stared in disbelief as Justin shot arrow after arrow like he was William Friggin’ Tell. He was awesome. Too awesome.
I rubbed my eyes in disbelief. I had been gone for a few weeks and maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t witnessing what I was witnessing. It could be an illusion, or my concussion being more serious than what the Paradise Lot doctors told me.
I mean, here I was in Montreal, watching my normally helpless boyfriend take down birds with a bow and arrows. A bow and arrows! And not just taking them down. He was making shots I couldn’t have made (and I grew up in an era when bow hunting was a thing).
He was as graceful as Aldie, and his hunting prowess would have made Egya—a born hunter—green with envy.
Justin was seriously badass.
I’d have been more impressed if I wasn’t fixated on the other person with him: a young woman with curly red hair and pale skin. I guess you could say she was cute, if you were into that sort of thing.
OK Kat, get a hold of yourself. Your boyfriend—
I looked over at Justin as he took down another bird with a shot that would have made Robin Hood give him a high-five.
But as good as he is, those are a lot of birds. He needs help, I thought.
Another shot, then a third.
OK, maybe not. When did Justin get all Terminator-meets-Predator-like?
I shook my head. I could mull over such thoughts when I got to him. Right now, some birds needed felling. (Is that the term for taking down a flock of killer birds of prey?) Not sure … I’d figure out appropriate vocab later. Now he needed me.
Well, he needed monster-killing Kat.
And if I was going to be of use, I needed a weapon. Something that would be useful against these diving monsters.
But just as I was about to enter the fray, it ended. The birds started falling from the sky, and not just because of Justin’s arrows. Something had happened, and the fracas came to a screeching, feathery halt.
Seems he didn’t need monster killing Kat, after all.
I watched as the redhead ran to Justin and decided that the post-battle wrap-up perhaps wasn’t the best time for me to re-enter his life. Besides, there was that girl, and—
Argh! Kat, stop acting like a thirteen-year-old, jealous biddy.
I shook my head and made my way to his frat house. I’d wait for him there and we’d figure out whatever we needed figuring out.
Biddy. Humph, now that’s a word I knew no one used anymore.
↔
WAITING on the stoop of O3’s frat house was less fun than you’d think. First off, you’re on a stoop, in February, in Montreal. It was damn cold … and I wasn’t just talking about the weather.
Justin’s fellow fraters were more fidgety than any ice storm, giving me the stink eye as they walked in. I knew most of these guys. The GoneGods know I’d spend enough nights sleeping in this very house with them partying in the halls.
We had always engaged in friendly banter, a wee bit of harmless flirting and tons of trash talking when I took them down at ping pong.
But instead of the usual, “Hey girl!” and, “What’s ups,” the guys ignored me. All of them except the apu, Seth.
A while back Seth and I … well, let’s just say we took care of a murderous problem that was threatening the campus. Seth was an Aztec cave apu, a guardian spirit whose sole purpose for existence was to protect those who lived in his territory. He and I had formed a kinship when protecting the campus together.
Two kindred spirits doing what we needed to do.
So when Seth showed up, I expected a smile. Instead, he looked at me with his sky-blue eyes that slowly grew gray with worry and said, “You shouldn’t have returned.”
“Well, hello to you, too.”
Seth shook his head and repeated, “You shouldn’t have returned. Not here. Not now. Not ever.”
Now that was a bit cheeky of him. I mean, Justin and I had fights, and yeah, we broke up after I failed to protect him from a dybbuk demon that possessed him for a couple weeks—but still. Seth’s reaction to seeing me hurt.
“Look, what’s between Justin and me is none of your—”
The apu shook his brown, rock-like head. “No, you misunderstand. This place—it is possessed. It is …”—he paused as he searched for the word—“evolving into something that is cruel and unkind. But we have found an uneasy balance. Your presence will destroy that balance. Destroy the peace.”
So that was it. He couldn’t care less about the issues between Justin and me. He was worried about something else entirely.
I grabbed Seth’s hand. It was coarse, like a thin filament of sand on leather, and being this close to him, I could smell the earth. And I don’t mean the ground that I stood on. That was covered in snow, its scent hidden from noses as powerful as Egya’s. What I mean is, from Seth I could smell the earth as if it was a cool spring day in some lush forest.
An apu’s natural scent.
“Seth—I thought we were friends. What’s going on—?”
“Attraction.” He said that word like it explained everything.
It didn’t.
“Attraction?” I tried to color my voice with all shades of confusion. Most of the time Others didn’t clue into those verbal cues.
But Seth was a bit more adept at human nuances than most Others.
Seth smiled, revealing teeth the color of pearls. “Yes. Attraction.” He chuckled, his expression softer, like he was remembering that we were
friends. “As in, you are one who attracts.”
“Hey, I know I’m cute, but—”
He waved a dismissive hand. “You hide behind your humor. But hiding now will only get you and those you love killed.”
“OK,” I said, shaking away the joke I had. Too bad—it was a doozy. “I think I understand. You think that my presence is somehow going to bring out the big nasties from the woodworks.”
“No. Those monsters are already here. I think you are going to bring them to us.” He leaned in close, pulling me toward him, and whispered in my ear, “They are changing. And with that change, they will bring destruction to the world. And your presence can only mean bad luck.”
I pulled away to look at him. I mean, really look at him. His eyes were a stormy gray now, any hint of blue gone.
For most humans, bad luck wasn’t real. Sure, crossing paths with black cats or walking under ladders often elicits the thought of Did I just give myself some bad luck? But that was a thought that most would quickly dismiss and forget.
Others are a suspicious bunch—but then again, wouldn’t you be if you actually knew that magic, curses and hexes were real? And if that kind of stuff was real, then it stands to reason that bad luck is real, too.
But to Others, it was more than just a real concept. Accidently imbuing themselves with bad luck usually meant purification rituals and hiding until the timeframe of that bad luck passed.
So if he was going full superstitious Other on me, then the only thing I could do was go full Other on him. “Apu, cave entity and protector of the O3 clan,” I said, “if bad luck comes this way, tell me so I can do whatever is necessary to alter its course.”
The apu shook his head. “The course is set. But you, Katrina, act like a pull, drawing it closer than it would otherwise come. You must leave.”
He was serious. He really wanted me to go. As in, away. Leave this frat house, leave the campus, leave Montreal. “I cannot do that.”