Speedo Down

by Winnie Winkle

  Aphrodite gave Ballard the gift of communication, giving him a major leg up in a changing world. He understood the Vapor language and a fair amount of magical thinking. His skills upgrade has been an immense help. Plus, he’s been diving into my library like a fiend, borderline Chelsea level. Ballard was a cop. Well, a former one, he’s on a leave of absence for now. But his attention to detail is amazing and not limited to the library. If happiness was sushi, I’m on my fifth roll. Fat and digging it.

  “Yeah, but I know it could be temporary. Poseidon was explicit on that point. What I read, and everything in my journal, is mine. A daily learning curve.”

  “The situation scares me,” I said, squaring off and challenging him. Ballard is my safe space. “I’ve read dragon lore, and Babe, they’re top of the food chain thinkers. Your basic ‘I can eat that, I will kill this’ approach. Not a fuck-ton of nuance.”

  “If you had few options, which conversations would you pick?”

  Ballard gets me.

  “Loboli, Apollo, Campe.”

  “Trust your gut.”

  “Mayor.”

  Loboli opened the door and waved a hand to enter. The former mayor of Daytona, he and I forged an understanding of sorts. I helped, in my role of Keeper, to carve out forested places for shifters alone. It’s not a done deal, but for now, we’re allies. I followed his magnificent ass out to the terrace and sat as he poured a glass of water for each of us, then settled across from me with a toothy grin as my skin skritched.

  “Keeper, I expected to see you, but I’m interested you choose to pick my brain first.”

  “Y’all gave me the tip. I’m here to learn.”

  “The pack member who visited you at The Boogey was a relation.” Loboli gestured to the tray of steak tartare surrounded by delectable berries. “Please. I’d be insulted if you refused.”

  Threat or promise?

  “Thank you. Gorgeous food.”

  I filled a small plate and listened for the moment he’d tackle the matter. But it arrived, to my surprise, without fanfare. Unusual, because Loboli gets a jolt from pushing my fear buttons.

  “There’s a problem.”

  “Yes, and to be straight with you, I don’t have a solution, yet. I need honesty. In return, once I know more, I vow to keep you abreast.”

  “Your track record of keeping your vows, so far, is unblemished; I’m listening.”

  “Mayor, how could a shifter create a blend? Nothing I’ve learned leads me to believe in the possibility, let alone the actualization.”

  “And you’re correct. The nature of our magic is more than specific. It’s divine.”

  “Divine?” I wasn’t familiar with this term with respect to magicals.

  “A level of magical law that is sacrosanct. So old it’s considered immovable.”

  “So this occurrence is unusual.”

  “To your average magical, it lies beyond the realm of reality and an aberration to our law.”

  Oh, crap.

  “Mayor, if I’m understanding, you’re saying magicals would, what… fight this entity?”

  Loboli crossed arms over a heavy, muscled chest.

  “Shifters thrive in the Americas and Canada because we hold the dragons on European soil under magical law. Be aware, Keeper, that law making is a deliberate task for the magical world. Dragons crave blood and are unrepentant; they alone caused their fates.”

  Similar to the Vapors? I need to dig deeper into the record. I’ve heard this tone of sanctimonious bull and know how that ended.

  “Mayor, this blend should be fifty percent shifter. I realize it’s speculation, but what does that mean to you in terms of the power of his magic?”

  Loboli leaned forward and my steak tartare flipped in my gut. Not the greatest sensation. I tried, but I felt the blood leave my face. He smiled at the effort.

  “If he’s an adult male, he could manifest a shift, or a semblance of one. One or more key traits are likely. It is pure speculation, but based on my cousin’s encounter, I suspect no impetus has presented. Yet.”

  “Impetus? Forgive me, but I’m not familiar with your true culture. Most material in my library has bias. Fright will do that.”

  Loboli leaned back; a long finger dotted with dark hair tapped his lower lip. I let him decide, giving my tummy a strawberry to play with while he chose what to share. Whatever it was, it was going into the book. Shifters hold their lore close.

  “Impetus occurs when the full moon of the twenty-first year of life begins. It is the sexual actualization of a wolf. You’ve seen young looking wolves, Keeper, but if they shift, they’ve achieved twenty-one years. From that point forward, they seek their bonded mate. Post impetus, wolves are dangerous and unpredictable. Once mated, it’s feasible to interact in the human world with greater success.”

  “I’ve had un-mated wolves in The Boogey and witnessed the behavior.”

  Loboli nodded. “As they age, more control occurs. Our lifespan is two hundred years, but lives of two hundred forty are possible. Every shifter breed is unique, Patra. What is normal for us is different for bears, for example.” He tapped the table. “Impetus releases a distinct life force. A wolf becomes a pair of separate entities, dwelling in a symbiont relationship. The rise of a second entity is true for shifters as a whole.”

  “The dragon lore I’ve read gives their lifespan as unmeasured, but suspected in the thousands of years. Is it possible this human could die before the dragon’s equivalent of impetus occurs?”

  “Is that your plan?” Loboli snorted.

  “No, I’m trying to understand where this blend is within his timeline.”

  “Fair enough. An educated guess is, if in his forties, he’s awakening. But I’d not be surprised if he lives far longer than the normal human lifespan, perhaps a hundred and fifty years. This problem of yours, Keeper, isn’t going away.”

  My problem. Why was it that when everything’s gravy we’re in this together, but when the shit hits, I was a one woman wonder?

  Chapter Five

  Drago stood outside his hotel room door, holding Daisy’s leash as the firefighters finished up with the ‘all clear’.

  “You’ll be paying for these damages,” the ratted out blond manager assured him.

  “Not a problem.” Drago peeled eight hundreds off his fold of bills. “Are we good?”

  Two fingers raised, and he made it a grand, watching them disappear into her bra.

  “Mama’s twenty percent?”

  The room was toast — mattress, pillows, and bedding blackened with soot and sodden with the water sprayed on them. The fire only affected the bed, and a firefighter moved toward Drago, shaking his head.

  “It’s bizarre you aren’t burned,” he said, peering at Drago’s face, neck, and hair.

  “Guess I woke up in time,” Drago replied.

  “Smoking in bed will kill you.”

  “Noted.”

  But he hadn’t. Cigarettes and Dargo never mixed; how his mattress caught fire was a mystery. A fact, he believed, best kept to himself. Keep life explainable, that’s as good a motto as any.

  Plus, the dream was weirder than normal, and from way back as a kid he’d experienced some damned odd dreams, ones brimming with fire, blood, and killing. But they never scared him; he woke up feeling happy, sometimes full, but always rooted in a deep sense of power.

  This time, he felt primal, horny as hell, and different somehow. Like he wasn’t in his body. He put Daisy in the back of the pickup for safekeeping and hauled out his tote, suitcase, and a backpack he’d bought to hold his new clothes. Everything smelled of smoke, and Drago sucked in air, liking the acrid scent. He pulled his beer from the fridge and stuffed it beside his gear in the truck bed before lifting Dairy out and setting her in the passenger seat. She licked the soot off his nose and panted with a goofy expression.

  “If you could talk, old girl, you could tell me how that barbeque went down.” Drago rubbed between her ears and grinned. “We gotta f
ind another place, more private.”

  The pickup rolled out, passing a long line of mom and pop motels. Drago took the International Speedway Bridge over the Intracoastal Waterway and drove onto Daytona Beach. Backed into a spot, he gazed at the crashing ocean, then pulled out his phone.

  “Let’s see what we can find to rent, Daisy-girl. Pet friendly, and no nosy landlords.” His finger tapped a couple listings before he found one that looked promising and made the call.

  “Available? Can I come by today? No, no renting history. Sold my home and need a rental while I buy another. One dog, medium-sized. First, last, and deposit is no problem. 11:30? See you there.”

  “Okay, girl, I’m grabbing a few hours of sleep. You bark if anybody or thing shows.”

  Daisy’s tail thumped as he slept, slumping against the window frame, a faint trail of smoke wafting along the sand.

  “Clep, how would you suggest I approach getting an audience with Apollo? I’ve only met him once, and it’s not an understatement to say he was unimpressed.”

  “Keeper, I might petition for you, but I’m curious. Why Dad?”

  I needed to exercise caution on revealing the entry written in blood. The magical world remained unaware of that particular back door shenanigan. But the other one, discussing Salem, was public. I leaned against the bar.

  “During the witch trials, a Keeper noted the extreme imbalance between the human and magical worlds, and wanted to petition Apollo to intervene.”

  “Ah.” Clep tapped his glass, and I built him another twelfth tide, letting the pause stretch. The drink, with its clockwise and counterclockwise layers spinning, slid to him and I cocked an eyebrow.

  “You’ve been connecting interesting dots, Keeper. You think Poseidon is missing much in the way Apollo was centuries ago.”

  “Yes. I’m curious to learn why different gods vanish. Care to enlighten me?” This was risky, but Clep seemed amiable, so I pushed. If I was wrong, I’d know in a minute after his aura blast blew my butt across the bar.

  “It’s balance related, but you knew that.” He sipped the second layer, and I relaxed.

  I was spitballing, but what the hell. “So if the imbalance was tied to the witches, Apollo was the key? And Poseidon is the counterbalance to…”

  Solutions clipping through my brain, I drifted, thinking hard. “He’s water, so maybe it’s… oh, CRAP.”

  “Yes, crap.” Clep’s gorgeous dark brown eyes twinkled. “The forewarning presented, and now you have your confirmation. Level the balance, and the seas will normalize.”

  “The forests too, I imagine.”

  “Oh, this fight is coming to you, Keeper. Alpha to alpha.”

  Alpha. Shit, I’ve got no magic, no real abilities, just a decent library, a couple of friends, and love. I’m sure any dragon blend saw that as an insurmountable task, flying to Europe post haste. I rolled my eyes.

  “The thing is, Patra, only one wins. If it’s not you, the balance shifts and those changes are unalterable. You’ll die, which happens at some point regardless, but your death in this confrontation places humanity and magicals on the cusp of great suffering. While your track record for seat of your pants thinking is good, going strategic might prove useful.”

  A green feeler popped out of his palm and tapped me on the forehead, and a layer peeled from my mind. A gift? Clearer study? Whatever, I’d take it.

  “Thank you, Asclepius.”

  “Do your best, Keeper. To me, this challenge is your biggest fight because of the enormity of the stakes and outcome.”

  Hoo boy, my last two were doozies. Crud.

  “Then what?” Chelsea sat by the window, staring at the Halifax River as the sun inched toward the Intercoastal Waterway to the west. The Boogey, except for us, was empty.

  “Clep gave me a gift.”

  Chelsea snorted. “When are you due?”

  “Not that kind of gift! Good grief. I’ve got plenty on my plate as it is. He tapped my head and opened a layer of clarity. I suspect he helped me either absorb new information or think more critically.”

  “Nice! That’s a serious upgrade.”

  “No idea how long I get it, but I’m cracking the books and hard.”

  “Shoo. Go! I’ll run The Boogey. Read while you can and prepare. The unknown could stroll in tomorrow for all we know. Don’t waste a moment.”

  I stared, then nodded. “You’re right, and thank you.” I leaned in to hug her. “See you later, Chels.”

  “Oh! I almost forgot.” Chelsea reached into her waist sack and pulled out a tiny dragon charm and set it on the bar. “These are for you. A loan. They are not suitable for Aegeus. Yet.”

  She tapped the charm twice, and it grew into a stack of books, sliding into a messy pile of a dozen tomes. “These are from my personal library on dragon lore. I placed a spell on each one so the runes appear as English words. The blend won’t behave this way because he doesn’t understand his lore and law, but some behaviors and instincts must be innate.”

  “Wow, I’m stunned. What an incredible trust. Thank you, my friend. I realize how closely magicals guard their knowledge.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Chelsea stacked the volumes with care, touching the spines, then passed them to me. Her eyes, meeting mine, shaded green.

  “Keeper, you’ve got a fight on your hands. Get ready.”

  “What time is it?” Ballard rubbed his eyelids and shivered. “Did you read this one yet?”

  My gaze slid across the book in his hand. “Farming Humans for Dragons? Yeah, I did. Cheery stuff.”

  “Forty a day? A DAY? Jesus, Patra.”

  Justice padded past the sectional, halted in front of the door, and mewed one time. Ballard’s eyes narrowed, and he rose, walking in silence toward the entry, bending to peer through the peephole. He crooked a finger at me. I trotted over, bare feet noiseless on the tile, and stared at the hallway on the other side.

  A man, smoking from both nose and mouth, stood before our door. I inhaled, holding the air in fright.

  Ballard eased me aside, took another look, then whispered into my ear. “He’s out of it, but I don’t get the smoke.”

  “Yes, you do,” I murmured, close, his short sideburn ticking my nose. “Check out the doorknob.”

  The handle glowed red hot, then faded. Justice mewed once more and turned back to Aegeus’ bedroom. Ballard, avoiding the glowing knob, bent forward and glanced out of the peephole.

  “Gone. I’m guessing he’s your boy.”

  I stared at him. “He knows where we live! If he’s starting the dragon version of impetus and manifesting the capability of fire, how can I protect us? I assumed he’d come to The Boogey, Ballard, but now I’m risking you both!”

  Ballard wrapped his arms around me and several hot tears soaked his shirt, a luxury of sorts. Before the showdown with Gaia, I didn’t waste time crying. What’s the point? If I was going down, red eyes and a swollen nose weren’t my best afterlife look. Now my entire heart lives in this condo, and that half-dragon fire fountain of unpredictable mayhem just let me know they’re on his menu.

  We rounded the corner of the living room, stopped by ten feet of fluffy tail snaking out of Aegeus’ bedroom, switching with intent.

  “You aren’t the only one protecting us, Babe. Justice appears available to prevail.”

  I glanced up toward the ceiling at the enormous tilted head, a yellow eye peeking from Aegeus’ door, accompanied by a rumbling purr.

  “Good kitty. I hope you’re hungry.”

  Chapter Six

  The weight of the mojo, unmistakable, pressed across my chest.

  Gods, more than one.

  I cut a side eye in Chelsea’s direction; she shrugged and touched her pinky to her forehead. A gap-toothed grin accompanied Glenna’s faint pop as she landed in the seat next to Chelsea.

  “Wine?” I asked as heavy steps rounded the corner.

  “For now.” Glenna eyed the arrivals. “Lord Apollo, it’s been many decades since ou
r paths crossed.”

  “Witch Glenna, I am glad you still dwell among the living. It is good to see you.”

  Glenna met my gaze and grinned as I turned to the amber-eyed god. “Lord Apollo, welcome. What is your pleasure?”

  “A honey mead, Keeper.”

  “Twelfth tide for me,” Asclepius added.

  After building the cocktail, I left it to rest and pulled a gorgeous crystal cask from below the bar. Wrapped in strands of gold, it sparkled of its own volition. Selecting a solid golden goblet, I tapped the mead and placed it before Apollo with my best smile before passing Clep his swirling buzz fest.

  Always serve in the power order. It prevents punishment.

  Apollo sipped, chatting low with Clep, and I moved to the witches and raised an eyebrow.

  “We met in Greece and had a good time,” Glenna murmured. “Turned into a memorable month.”

  My eyes flicked to Chelsea’s, a grin struggling to stay hidden. “That mojo is hard to resist. Have I met your little sister?”

  “You mean father,” Chelsea tapped her wine for a refill.

  The hell?

  “What the… I-I didn’t know.”

  All pretense of mirth drained from my face. Chelsea, a powerful, skilled magical, was the chosen High Priestess of the Coven; or several, I wasn’t privy. We shared a friendship, close as human and magical could be, with both parties determined to forge our bond. After the battles we’ve experienced, now I find out she’s a demigod? Lineage of that nature is a considerable detail to forget to mention.

  Later tonight, I’ll add that tidbit into the record, but right now, I had a petition to plead. I stuck my tongue out at Chelsea, then turned back to the mojo fest. Gods are so powerful they wipe out human strength, and when they show up in multiples, the effect intensifies. I yanked up my gumption and moved closer.

  Apollo treated the air between us as a wall of sorts, continuing to engage with Clep while sipping his drink. I backed up and waited. Clep drained his twelfth layer and tapped the bar. I built the cocktail, eyeing Apollo’s half full mead, and delivered it before lifting the cask.