Feisty Heroines Romance Collection of Shorts
Page 67
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Wait, he called me Louise? How did he--
* * *
PM to CountDracula82 from B&RTechFUBAR:
Don’t freak out on us now, Louise. You aren’t the only one with a demon boss. Just answer the door and let your adventure begin.
* * *
Her blood froze as she reached out with a trembling hand to shut off the computer. Not that it would matter. This stranger knew her real name, and he probably knew where she lived. Oh, God, had he been in her apartment? Was he lurking there now? Three sentences, seven words, then nine, then nine…
“Stop it!” she shouted at the computer, at the deranged individual tormenting her through cyberspace, and at herself for reacting to the fear trigger.
The doorbell rang, sending a fresh jolt of terror down her spine. She leapt off the couch. God, someone had gotten past the doorman? Mr. Gunderson never, ever let anyone in without first checking with the tenants. No way was she going to answer the door.
The ping from her computer signaled another incoming message.
* * *
PM to CountDracula82 from B&RTechFUBAR:
Aw, come on, please? Pretty please? Just open the door. No one’s going to hurt you.
We’ll get in trouble if you don’t.
Serafina sends her regards.
* * *
Serafina? The only Serafina she knew had worked in her office for a couple of years. They’d become fast friends, and not just because they were the resident introverts. Like Sera, Louise had a secret. They were both hybrids—part human and part elemental guardian with supernatural powers tied to their connection with earth’s natural elements. Louise had minimal elemental powers. As a hybrid with only trace amounts of earth elemental blood, she could draw a small amount of energy from trees and soil, but that was about it.
Why would Sera be contacting her now? And why use third party weirdos? Last she heard, Sera had gotten married and was expecting her first child.
Then again, if this was elemental guardian business, it explained how the guys on the message boards knew so much about her. She was still on high alert, but some of her fear faded.
The bell rang again, this time accompanied by a muffled male voice, “UPS delivery for Ms. Erin. Anyone home?” Nice voice, friendly. Deeper, and maybe older, than the guy from the elevator, the paternal tone soothed. Her heart rate slowed, but she remained on guard as she stared at the door and weighed her options.
“Look, I don’t need a signature,” said the probably supernatural delivery man after a minute. “I’ll just slide it under your door. Give me until the count of thirty, and I’ll be long gone.”
She flinched at the reference to her peculiar coping mechanism, but he didn’t seem to be mocking or threatening.
“Okay,” she said, glad her voice didn’t shake.
“Good deal,” he replied.
The soft whisper of something small sliding under wood and across carpet broke the brief moment of silence. Just when her pulse slowed to some semblance of normal and she’d geared up for the count to thirty, his voice came again. “By the way, tell the boys to fix your microwave before you open the package. They never do anything useful unless you’ve got them by the… um, that is, unless you’ve got leverage.”
* * *
PM to CountDracula82 from B&RTechFUBAR:
Don’t listen to Dan the UPS man, a.k.a. Ungrateful Bastard. We already fixed your microwave. Go grab your popcorn, why don’t you, and open your package already?!?
* * *
Sit and eat popcorn? Yeah, right, not when some unknown elemental guardians seem to be trying to involve me in shenanigans!
* * *
PM to CountDracula82 from B&RTechFUBAR:
Seriously not shenanigans, lady—not right now, anyway. And just to show good faith, we’ll throw in free access to Netflix and an Amazon gift card.
* * *
She barely had time to count the commas before the gift card arrived in her Inbox, as did a notification that her Netflix streaming queue was full of some interesting new titles. God, could this trip down the rabbit hole get any weirder? As far as she knew, most elemental guardians weren’t interested in low-level hybrids like her. She had so little elemental heritage, she was practically human. And while she’d certainly trusted Sera, she couldn’t be sure about these guys.
Her microwave dinged just as another message appeared on screen.
* * *
PM to CountDracula82 from B&RTechFUBAR:
You drive a hard bargain, lady! Look, how about this? Go get your popcorn, another beer (you need it), and then check out the perfectly harmless envelope that holds instructions for unlocking a better life—
* * *
*Disregard the last bit of self-help bullshit. My bro Boice is such a friggin’ new age hippy. That envelope actually has instructions to help you get some—
* * *
I told you to let me do the typing, dumbass! Hi there, Louise, Roice here. You’ll have to forgive my brother. He spends way too much time working the Internet porn sites. What’s really in the envelope is—
* * *
She slammed the laptop shut. Cursing under her breath, she picked up the phone, punched in Sera’s number, hit send, and waited.
No ringing. No dial tone. Nothing.
“Quit messing with my stuff, you little psychos!”
It was probably an exercise in futility, not to mention a freak-out in the making, but she stumbled across the room to grab her cell phone. A text message from B&RTechFUBAR blinked on the screen. How in the world were these super hackers doing this to her? Were they some variant of earth elementals who used their affinity for metals to disrupt electronics? But why target her? Sera had some explaining to do.
* * *
opN d pkg n well let U B, K?
* * *
What? A new text blipped across her screen.
* * *
Open the package, and we’ll leave you be, okay?
* * *
“All right, all right, already,” she muttered, counting the steps to her front door and grabbing the envelope. It wasn’t ticking and didn’t have the telltale marks of a suspicious package. According to human resources at her firm, these included shoddy packaging, protruding wires, strange odors, and spelling errors. No, the sleek, ebony envelope was neat, lacked protrusions or smoke, with a bright red embossed letter ‘E’ in a swirling, elegant font.
She ripped it open and pulled out the heavy card-stock within. A cloying floral perfume wafted from the cream page, which was emblazoned with the same red font as the envelope. What the hell? It looks like a Goth wedding invitation. Elementals were so freakin’ dramatic.
Nope, not a wedding invitation, but it was an invitation, nonetheless. Oh, dear God. Instead of an address, the directions consisted of steps, precisely enumerated, leading from her apartment to some location that, by her calculations, was around four blocks from her home and near midtown.
“Is this some kind of sick joke?” she yelled. When no answer was forthcoming, she posed the same question to her new dumb little buddies via text.
* * *
No jk. Jst go w it. Bt serioSly, e@ dat popcorn 1st. Ur microwave wz a btch 2 fiix.
* * *
“What are you, twelve?” Still, she may be going crazy, but she didn’t have to be hungry while doing it. She marched over to the microwave and pulled out her popcorn bag, enjoying the wafting steam and aroma of rich buttery goodness when she opened it.
“Oh, wowzers, this is so good,” she said after the first bite. “Hey, do you think you could fix the overhead light in my bathroom? It flickers all the time and is crazy annoying.”
She shoveled in two more mouthfuls of fluffy goodness before walking to the bathroom and testing out the light—bright and nary a flicker.
“Thanks, fellas!”
After finishing her beer and popcorn, she went to her closet and contemplated what might be suitable to wear on h
er impromptu trip to Bizarro-ville. Because she was going. That was no longer in question. She’d bring mace and her taser, but if she didn’t leave the house, she figured the little jerks would spam her until her computer and phone crashed. Good grief, they might even fry the electrical system in her whole freakin’ building. She hoped their connection to Sera was real and that these shenanigans—for they were absolutely shenanigans—were benign.
She picked out some comfortable knit leggings and a dressy black sweater to go with it, figuring it would be her best bet to blend into an upscale venue, hole in the wall, or anything in between. Carrying her clothes to the bathroom, she stopped and yelled, “Okay, guys, no peeking!”
Her phone pinged with an incoming text.
* * *
Wheres d truts??
* * *
She flicked off the light switch before closing the door and changing.
She arrived at her destination, nervous but unscathed. Well, it wasn’t quite what she’d expected, but it was kind of…nice.
And since she’d spent the long walk focused on following her unconventional directions and not running into people or lampposts along the way, she didn’t feel the urge to count tables, chairs, or martini glasses after entering the cozy jazz bar. What was she supposed to do next? Neither the hackers nor the cryptic invitation told her what to expect when she actually reached her destination.
“Darling, so glad you could make it.”
The voice emerged from the dim recesses behind the host’s stand, smoky, sensual, and female. The voice’s bearer appeared from the shadows, resplendent in a black sheath dress and a patterned scarf draped around her shoulders. She was petite, with jet black hair, stylish in its neat pixie cut, and a cruel smile. She gave off an aura of menace, but something in her eyes softened the expression.
Shit. She was an elemental, and probably powerful. And she definitely wasn’t Sera.
“Welcome, welcome. My name is Mauler. Come with me, and I’ll introduce you to my brother.”
“Hello,” Louise said, accepting the woman’s extended hand and marveling at the strength of her grip. “I’m Louise. Before we sit, though, would you mind telling me exactly how you managed to, well, do everything you did to get me here? Are you…a friend of Sera’s?”
Maurelle laughed, high and breathy. The laugh was all wrong for this woman. “So direct! How refreshing. And courageous to come this far on good faith, especially considering my brother’s messengers.” The corners of her mouth turned down in apparent distaste. “Things were so much easier before the advent of your ridiculous contraptions like telephones, computers, and the like. In the old days, we would simply have sent a courier to fetch you. My sister-in-law, Sera, wouldn’t allow it.”
Louise shuddered. Being fetched by this lady’s courier would be far less pleasant than anything Boice and Roice could manage. Maurelle smiled broadly and said, “Don’t underestimate the twins’ capacity for mischief. They may be young, but I assure you they are pros when it comes to wickedness.”
Maurelle turned on one high heel and waltzed toward the main seating area, clearly taking for granted that Louise would follow, which she did, counting all seventeen steps to one of the central tables where a man sat, presumably Maurelle’s brother. The pair couldn’t be more different. Though seated, he appeared to be quite tall. He was also well muscled and might have been scary were it not for his relaxed manner and easy smile. His blond hair—almost white—hung past his shoulders. Not conventionally handsome, his chiseled features and hooked nose made him striking, and his eyes were…strange. They appeared to be a shade between gold and yellow, like an eagle’s.
Another powerful elemental guardian. She was pretty sure Maurelle and her brother were Sylphs, air elementals. Not the kind of elementals who associated with low-level Dryad hybrids like her. And with their Sylph senses, they could read her emotions. She’d have to be careful around these two.
“Thanks for coming,” the man said, standing and offering his hand. “Glad you found the place.”
Louise shook his hand. He inhaled deeply, no doubt scenting her emotions, and a fine tremor ran through his body. He let go before it became uncomfortable—well, more uncomfortable. Good. She wasn’t sure how much more discomfort and weirdness she could handle.
“Louise, this is Bruce, my brother.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she said, not sure if she meant it. But then it occurred to her that if this was Maurelle’s brother, and Sera was her sister-in-law, Bruce must be married to Sera.
Bruce must’ve read the realization in her face, or maybe her emotions, because he smiled and said, “I’m Sera’s mate. She sent me to check on you.”
Interesting. More of her anxiety faded, replaced by curiosity, and to her surprise, excitement.
After introductions, Maurelle led them to yet another table in a quiet, secluded corner. Once they were seated, the woman pulled three boxes out of her purse, the kind in which one might expect to find jewelry, and lined them up on the table.
“Okay, let’s get down to business. Not my normal business, mind you,” she added, leaning closer and dropping her voice to a whisper. “I’m doing a favor for big brother.”
“What exactly is your business?” Louise asked, eyeing the boxes with a mixture of suspicion and morbid curiosity.
“Lately, you and others like you have been my business,” Maurelle said, waving a dismissive hand. “And since you’ve been so frank with me, let me return the favor. These three boxes represent your past, your present, and a possible future.”
Louise stared, dumbfounded. Wow, talk about your letdowns. She’d expected something…more, especially from such powerful elementals. While the extraordinary experiences of the evening could be explained, something about them, while frightening, had seemed surreal and almost magical. Had she come this far only to find out she was the target of a new-age elemental guardian psychobabble scam? Or worse, the butt of a very bad joke?
“I’m sorry,” she said, unable to mask the dry disappointment in her tone. “You’ve got the wrong girl, lady. I’m not your entertainment.”
Louise pushed back her chair and started to rise, but Maurelle’s firm grip on her forearm stopped her. Meeting that dark, almost black gaze, Louise stilled, compelled by the power behind those eyes as much as the strong grasp.
“Oh, honey,” the creature said, “you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
Maurelle thrust the first box into Louise’s hand and flipped the lid open.
All of a sudden, Louise was no longer in the bar. Instead of quiet conversations and the sounds of drums and saxophone in the background, she was surrounded by an eerie silence. After a moment, the clink of dishes triggered a memory that nearly brought her to tears. She could see it as clearly as if it was happening now instead of years ago—the cramped but tidy kitchen with its faded yellow linoleum floor and battered cabinets, a bright blue valance over the sink, a welcome bit of vibrance in the otherwise dreary room, and the woman at the sink washing dishes. The woman held her shoulders stiff and worked efficiently, her dress and hair as drab as the kitchen.
Familiar anxiety stabbed at Louise’s heart, and she counted the seconds until the small girl at the table spoke. She wanted to take the girl by the hand and lead her away, to someplace quiet and safe, but she was only a spectator. This was her memory, the child was her, and there was nothing she could do but watch and weep.
“Mama, when’s Papa coming home?”
Mama dried another dish and took a sip from the glass of special water, the kind Louise wasn’t supposed to drink. She’d tried it once. It burned her tongue and throat and made her eyes water when she swallowed. Mama didn’t even flinch.
“Mama?”
She would only ask one more time. Asking again and again made Mama sad or mad. Then Mama would yell, maybe, or start throwing dishes. She didn’t like cleaning up broken dishes. The shards made yucky sounds when she swept them across the hard tile floor, and sometimes she�
��d get cut.
Mama would drink more of the burning water tonight.
“I don’t know,” Mama said, her voice thick with weariness. “He’s working late again. Did you finish your homework?”
“Yeah, but my takeaways are hard.”
“You can do it. It’s just a matter of counting, Louise. You are a good girl, a smart girl. You do the counting, do good in school, and you will have a better life.”
“Yes, Mama.”
Louise came back to herself after the memory faded to grey. Her eyes stung and her face burned, but she wouldn’t cry, not for the cruel woman sitting across from her, the one who’d opened the wounds of her past. Whoever or whatever Maurelle was, Louise wouldn’t feed her with tears. No, she’d burn the monster with anger.
“Ah, that’s my girl,” Maurelle whispered, before she smiled to reveal small, white teeth. Maurelle inhaled, no doubt tasting her emotions. The effect of Maurelle’s energy wasn’t quite like Bruce’s. Bruce exuded happiness and light. Maurelle’s energy was dark, but the darkness seemed to draw on the darkness in Louise’s heart and mind in the wake of the disturbing trip down memory lane.
Then, oddly enough, Louise actually felt better.
Better, but still angry. Angry at the intrusion into her life, and angry at Sera, someone she considered her friend, for putting her through something like this. And Bruce, her friend’s mate, just sat there with a stupid look on his face instead of calling his sister off. What was that all about?
“I don’t think you need box number two. You’ve been stuck in your rut so long I doubt it would even faze you. Which leaves…” She paused to stroke the last box, its red glossy finish a stark contrast to the white tablecloth. “This one.”