Sunny with a Chance of Monsters: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (Sunny Day, Paranormal Badass)

by Marlow, Shaye

  Khaz held out his hand a little bit longer, then dropped it to his side with a sigh. “I was thinking we could discuss it over sandwiches.”

  “I don’t like sandwiches.”

  “Oh, you’re looking for something more breakfasty? Bacon and eggs, then.”

  “I don’t like those either.”

  Khaz raised an eyebrow at her. “Salad?”

  “No, fuck that.”

  Khaz gave her a really long look. “You want to have breakfast with me.”

  She did, actually. Really badly. She was so fucking hungry. So. Hungry. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. She squinted at him warily. “Okay.”

  He really did have a charming grin. Standing, he snatched up his briefcase. “Come on. There’s a really nice pub right down the road.”

  “Yeah…okay.” Sunny didn’t usually try to make friends with strangers, but she supposed she could make an exception for someone who could remember her. Apparently the only person who could remember her. That, and she really wanted to have breakfast with him. She was so hungry…

  He took her to a little place called Captain Cook Pub and Grill and led her inside to the smell of baking pastries, beer, and bacon. After the waitress led them to a booth, he set the briefcase on the bench beside him, ordered a coffee, and relaxed. Sunny took a moment to look at the menu, saw that the entrées started at $49, and set it aside, face flushing.

  “Well, that was a lot easier than I was expecting.” Khaz cocked his head at her. “I expected you to run.”

  “Why?” Sunny asked, on edge all over again.

  After searching her eyes, Khaz clasped his fingers together on the table and leaned over them to get closer. “Tell me. How long has your presence gone unnoticed in the Domes?”

  “You mean how long since people stopped remembering who I am or why I’m there?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You know what I—”

  As if on cue, the waitress returned with coffee and a water for Khaz and frowned at Sunny. “Who’s your friend?”

  “Why don’t you take it down for lunch, eh? Make things easier on us?”

  “Take what down?” Sunny asked, puzzled.

  Khaz gave her a flat look, then said, “What do you want to eat?”

  Thinking of the prices, Sunny said, “I’m not hungry.”

  “My treat.”

  Well, in that case… “Omelet, hashbrowns, and all the bacon she can put on a plate.”

  “And to drink?”

  “Just water.” It had been years since she’d been able to afford her six-bucks-a-day caffeine habit, and she was pretty sure if she chugged down an expensive coffee right now like she wanted to, it would play havoc on her system and she’d end up on the toilet for the rest of the afternoon.

  Khaz read the menu, then politely told the waitress, “I’ll have the Kodiak blueberry pancakes and a McKinley omelet with three orders of bacon.”

  “That’s a lot of food,” the waitress warned him, her back once again to Sunny. “You got a friend coming?”

  Khaz looked at Sunny past the waitress. “You could say that.”

  The waitress shrugged and walked off, not even bothering to ask Sunny what she wanted.

  “Why do you leave it up all the time?” Khaz asked, once the waitress was gone. “I can see hiding from Vandyke and Marlyn, but why your waitress?” He pushed his water across the table at her.

  “Huh?”

  Khaz gestured at the air around her. “Your Forgettability field.”

  Sunny got cold tingles. She leaned forward across the table excitedly. “You know what it is?”

  It was the wrong thing to say, because he immediately got sly. “I’ve seen similar.” He ripped the tops off a couple sugar packets, poured them into his coffee, stirred it, then gave her a sharp look. “How long have you gone unnoticed in this realm?”

  The look in his eyes said she wouldn’t get anything else out of him unless she answered. “It was three years this January,” Sunny muttered, peering at her water.

  Khaz, who had discarded the empty sugar packets and had been reaching for the creamer, froze. “Three years ?” Like she’d told him Edward Banks had two dicks. He looked her over, and it made her hackles raise again. “How’d you manage to stay here for three years without Vandyke or Marlyn finding you?”

  “What the hell does that mean?” she demanded.

  “Tell me how you did it and I’ll overlook your existence here,” Khaz said. He sounded almost desperate.

  Sunny squinted. “Did…what?”

  He looked like she had insulted him. “You’re just thrilled to see someone pull one over on the devaputra, aren’t you? That some conceited ape managed to chain me to this coil. That must be hilarious .”

  “I don’t know what you—”

  “Whatever.” He threw his napkin down and stood as if the meal—which hadn’t even started yet—were over. “Like it or not, until I figure out a way to outwit that pusmaggot Vandyke, I have to do his bidding, and if he figures out you’re here, he’ll do the same to you. Time for you to head home.”

  That seemed…odd. “But you just invited me to lunch.”

  With an outraged look, he snapped, “You know what I—” Catching himself, Khaz glanced to the side. All around them, men and women in sleek advocates’ garb were discussing court cases over breakfast, definitely making Sunny and her dirty work clothes stand out. He sat back down and leaned across the table to her. More quietly, he said, “You know what I mean. You stand out like an elephant in a sea of water buffalo. I have to take you back, otherwise the simian bag of dicks will get you, too.”

  “Huh? If you didn’t want me here, why’d you invite me?” That really pissed her off. Was this some game rich people played, better known as Humiliate The Broke Girl? Already, she could feel the eyes of strangers watching her, wondering why a dusty-knuckled blockker nobody was having breakfast at one of the Dome’s most high-dollar restaurants with a guy in weird-ass near-luminescent baggy silk pants and long embroidered vest.

  “Tell me how you’re doing it and I’ll let you stay,” he commanded. “Hell, I’ll help you stay.”

  “I can stay if I want to,” Sunny growled. Granted, she couldn’t pay for it afterwards, but it was a free country…

  “You’ll find you’ll have trouble without my help.”

  What a dick . “I’m not leaving,” she said, gripping the table. “I have just as much right to be here as you do.”

  “It’s not that easy. There are those who don’t appreciate your presence, and others who would wish to harness it.” Irritably, he brushed something off that weird, opalescent robe.

  Because she knew Daphne would love it, Sunny blurted, “Where do you even buy a silk robe like that? The imports store?”

  Khaz stopped shaking out his robe and blinked at her. Then he blinked down at his attire. Then he blinked at her again as if she were crazy. “I’m wearing a suit.”

  Sunny laughed. “If that’s what you call it. Looks like someone dragged you out of a Bangladeshi wedding.” She was hoping to distract him long enough to get some grub and stick him with the bill.

  Khaz’s eyes were wide. “How can you…” He cocked his head at her, looking both curious and wary. “Vandyke’s got me glamoured.”

  “You call that glamor?” She snorted. “Let me guess. You just left Daddy’s basement and this is the first time you got to dress yourself.” She knew it wasn’t kind, but she hated people pointing out she looked like shit, especially people who threatened her and pointed out that she looked like shit in the middle of a high-class restaurant she couldn’t afford.

  He held out a wrist, showing her a deeply-embroidered silk sleeve. The cloth shimmered and looked like it belonged in the sky. “What color do you see?”

  Sunny squinted at him, thinking that was weird. “I dunno…blue-white?”

  His eyes went wide. He yanked the sleeve up, revealing a thick brass bracelet around his wrist. It was inscrib
ed with pretty engravings in what looked like Hindi. “And now?”

  “You pulled your sleeve up.”

  “Yes,” he said quickly. “What about what’s under the sleeve?”

  “A brass bracelet?” She squinted at it. “Shit, how did you even get that on ? It looks like it was molded to your wrist —”

  He hastily yanked his sleeve back in place and glanced around as if to make sure nobody else had seen. He leaned forward and whispered, “We need to talk.”

  Sunny was pretty sure that’s what they were doing. She said so.

  “No. I need to set up a distraction for Vandyke, make it safe. I’ll just be in the bathroom a moment, preparing. Stay here—it’s very important for your safety.”

  He’s schizophrenic, she realized. That’s why he remembers me. Sunny had long ago noticed that kids and the insane seemed to be able to see through whatever curse she was under, like their brains just didn’t have whatever it was that kept most people from registering her presence. “Sure, tinkerbelle.” Sunny gestured. “Be sure to powder your slippers.”

  Looking down at his opalescent slippers, Khaz jerked to stare at her again, then departed hastily. A few steps from the table, he hesitated and turned back. “Stay seated until I get back.”

  Yeah, that seemed like a pretty good idea, considering she didn’t want to get caught trying to leave and be forced to foot the bill. “Whatever, sparkly.”

  Khaz flushed, but rushed off to the bathroom anyway.

  As soon as he was gone, Sunny reached across the table and pulled his briefcase over to her side. She opened it and lifted out a folder, looking for the one that had her face.

  Instead, the folder belonged to one pale, slightly-pedophilic-looking Gabriel Dortez. He looked dorky in a ridiculous plaid sweater that hung off a bony, awkward frame. He was maybe forty or forty-five, and she would have bet money he was still a virgin. She was just starting to grin at that when she realized that directly under his headshot were the words: $100,000 BOUNTY, DEAD OR ALIVE. EXTREMELY HIGH-RISK. EXPERTS ONLY.

  Sunny froze, cold tingles rushing over her. She hastily rummaged in the briefcase, found the other folder labeled Jane Doe, and yanked it open.

  There she was, in a picture that had obviously been taken by a stranger at her worksite, when she didn’t know she was being surveilled. She was covered in rock dust, sweaty, and her face was contorted from shoving a granite block into position, but it was unmistakably her.

  Under her photo were the bone-chilling words:

  BOUNTY TO BE DETERMINED. SUBJECT NEEDED FOR QUESTIONING. TO BE CONSIDERED HIGHLY DANGEROUS AND HIGH-RISK. EXPERTS ONLY.

  Well, fuck.

  Sunny stared at her picture for a full twenty seconds, then numbly shut the folder, collected the briefcase, got up, and walked out of the pub as casually as she could, omelet forgotten.

  She was crossing the sidewalk outside when she looked through the window, saw Khaz leaving the bathroom in a suit , and his eyes flickered toward the empty booth. He saw that the briefcase was missing, then jerked to search for her. When he glanced at the window, their eyes met. He gave her a shell-shocked stare, one of total, mind-boggled confusion. Eyes on her, he began jogging towards the door.

  Sunny dropped the briefcase and bolted, the two folders still under her arm. She turned right into an alley. Behind her, on the street, she heard his slippers on the pavement. Or thought she did. She couldn’t be sure—they didn’t seem to be making a lot of sound.

  “Wait!”

  Yeah, bullshit on that, Mr. I Carry Pictures of Strangers… She ran faster, turned a corner, and ducked into a parking lot, weaving between the trucks.

  “I said wait ! Please!” Tinkerbelle’s desperate voice was farther away.

  Sunny kept going, running all the way back to the outdomer parking garage and Bertha. She dove into Bertha’s cab and yanked the door shut. Panting, she stayed low on the seat.

  A few minutes later, she saw Khaz once again in that billowing, shimmery silk, walking through the parking garage, looking for her.

  No. She saw two silk-clad Khazes looking for her. A third one was weaving through the old beaters on the far end, peering into windows. Only the last one was in a suit. Sunny dropped back to the seat, heart hammering out of control.

  What the fuck is going on?

  She heard one of the Khazes pass by her truck’s door, his slippered feet making only a whisper on the concrete.

  She waited until he moved to the far side of the garage, then slid her key into the ignition, flinching at the metallic click it made as it contacted the steering column. Then, in a moment when all three Khazes were looking the opposite direction, Sunny sat up, twisted the ignition, and for once, Blue Bertha roared to life.

  Kicking the truck into gear, Sunny peeled out of the parking lot, making the three Khazes behind her turn. She saw the suited one wave his arms in desperation before she took a hard left onto the highway out of the Dome.

  Chapter 3: To Poach or Not to Poach…

  They didn’t have a lot on her. A few very basic details. How tall she was. Her gender. Hair color. Eye color. That she worked as a manual laborer for the Seawall Project, West Bank. That people who turned their attention from her forgot her immediately.

  There were other things, however, that turned the chill in her bones into bona fide liquid nitrogen.

  SUGGESTED METHOD OF CAPTURE: FOOD.

  SUBJECT PREFERS BURGERS, SANDWICHES, AND OTHER MOBILE MEALS. COULD BE LACED WITH A SEDATIVE AND REMAIN UNDETECTED.

  It was just a few lines, but combined with her photo, it left Sunny with a soul-deep coldness that would not go away no matter how many hot showers she took.

  The second folder, the one belonging to Gabriel Dortez, was much more in-depth. It said where Gabriel liked to hang out, where he worked—all four different places, apparently—and who he liked to talk to. It listed twenty-four ‘progeny’, each supposedly with numbered files of their own, which Sunny found odd.

  Gabriel had the classic look of a geek, so Sunny wasn’t surprised in the least when she found that he was an accountant, a math teacher, and an employee with the Republic of Alyeska Postal Service, though the psychiatrist threw her for a loop. He apparently changed jobs every month or so.

  Over and over again in Gabriel’s file, Sunny found the words, EXTREMELY DANGEROUS, DO NOT APPROACH WITHOUT BACKUP. ESCAPE ARTIST. HIGHLY INTELLIGENT. STRONG POISON.

  And then, as if the all-caps hadn’t been enough, someone had written in bold red sharpie, “THIS FUCKER IS SMARTER THAN YOU.”

  At the bottom was a final summary with these words:

  RECOMMENDATION: LEAVE HIM ALONE.

  Under that, someone had written in a beautiful, flourishing script, “Too many casualties. Will take care of it personally.”

  Sunny spent two days chewing on those words. So they thought this dude was dangerous? Was it an enemy-of-my-enemy situation? She had his work addresses. Maybe she could get more information on what was going on with the strange silk-wearing freak if she stopped by and had a chat?

  Then again, maybe it was just as simple as that. Maybe they were hunting people like Sunny, people who had the weird way to disappear under people’s noses.

  If so, why was her face stamped with the words EXTREMELY DANGEROUS? That seemed…odd. Sunny didn’t know martial arts, didn’t carry a gun—hell, didn’t even have the money to buy mace. She had a very mild criminal history and hadn’t even punched anyone in months. She didn’t even have a traffic citation to her name—though that was probably more due to the fact the last Trooper had mysteriously forgotten what he was doing, mid-ticket, than the fact she hadn’t been caught speeding on the Edwards Banks Bridge.

  Sunny looked again at the letterhead.

  Bureau of Public Investigations

  Office of the Secretary, Room 1400

  825 W 4 th Ave, Anchorage, AK 99501

  So. The BPI was offering a reward for Mr. Gabriel Dortez. A hundred. Thousand. Dollar. Rewar
d.

  Immediately, Sunny had to fight a surge of greed. That was well over three years’ worth of hard work as a blockker with the Dome Commission.

  By extrapolation, that also meant that the BPI was now offering a reward for her , but she was pretty sure she could skirt that particular problem with a few well-placed squirrels. The bigger question was what, exactly, kind of criminal Gabriel was, and whether or not Sunny would incur a Karmic shitstorm for bringing him in.

  For instance, was he actually a criminal, or was he just an unfortunate nobody like her, someone who had somehow invoked the ire of the Republic through no fault of his own?

  Sunny glanced again at the address of his math teaching gig with New Republic High. 34th Avenue. He supposedly had been hired on as a full-time teacher…while at the same time holding a job as an accountant and a desk clerk at the post office. Oh, and seeing patients at a little place called Knik Counseling on 5th Avenue.

  Anyone who held so many jobs had to be at least slightly crazy. Her eyes drifted down to the fine print along the bottom of the Rewards sheet.

  The Above Bounty Must Be Submitted For Approval at:

  D.P.S.

  5243 E. 42 nd Ave., Anchorage, AK

  Office of Accounting

  Room 6, 1 st floor

  Bounty may be claimed by presentation of the individual or entity to the address noted above. Individual or entity must be alive unless otherwise stated. Potential claimants must have a physical residence and an account with the Bank of Alyeska to receive funds due. The BPI does not assume any responsibility for personal injury or death resulting from attempted legal collection of bounties. Bounty claims are not limited to current employees of the BPI or its subsidiaries and may be redeemed by any legal resident of the Republic of Alyeska who is over 18 or has a signed waiver of consent from a parent or legal guardian. Questions or concerns? Please contact the D.P.S. administrator at 907-555-9942.