by Lyn Brittan
“Mercy killing. When he dispenses justice among his own people…let’s just say that death at his hands tends to take a while. He’s sick and I don’t intend to let him enjoy extending my death.”
Amber swallowed, hoping to push down the bile that threatened to erupt. She couldn’t figure out what was worse, remembering Crispin’s promise of ‘us time,’ or the thought of Seljuk being tortured at the bastard’s hands.
“Get that look off your face,” Seljuk said, pulling her back from the edge. He held out his hand and nodded towards the bathroom. “I smell of sex and a Merlid woman. Not a bad scent, but I reckon it’ll be distracting for another full day of driving.”
****
After breakfast, they drove the next ten hours in relative silence. During her turns at the wheel, she found herself living out various ‘what if’ scenarios. Tomorrow was the day. What would the ramifications be for all the sea peoples if Crispin won? Or for the humans, for that matter? But also, what kind of life could she make out for herself if she and Seljuk were successful? She couldn’t imagine things going back the way they were before. She marveled at how every time concern would bubble up, Seljuk would rise and kiss her cheek or give her hand a squeeze. There was a connection there, she knew, and not one she wanted to see severed in any way.
The hotel they found that night was worse than the one of the first night. Population centers were getting scarce again and who knew how many miles they’d have to travel before finding another one.
“How can they expect to stay in business,” she asked, eying cobwebs in each corner of the registration area. She fought the urge to write, ‘clean me,’ in the layer of dust that decorated the counter. There was enough to make a sand village.
Seljuk held off answering until he’d been handed the key and they were near their room. She saw that the number tab was largely illegible given the thick layer of what she only hoped was grease. “Look outside. They’ve got a lock on the market. You’d only stop here if you couldn’t go on any farther.”
“I think I’d rather sleep in the car.”
The door opened to a room that was dark and damp. To their credit, there were sprinklers, though the areas around them popped and bubbled. They’d clearly gone off more than a few times. The towels seemed to be the cleanest things in the room, so they lined the bed with them and, completely exhausted, fell asleep in each other’s arms.
Halfway through the night, she woke up to find herself alone and the air thick with rage.
“Seljuk?”
He didn’t answer, but she knew he was close by. She could smell the iron and powder that she’d quickly learned to associate with a gun.
“What’s wrong?”
“He’s found us.”
“Ibra! He’s outside?” Amber jumped up to look, but the parking lot was disturbed only by the rising orange sun. “There’s nothing.”
“We need to leave. Now.” He held up something in hand and smashed it against the wall. She drew close to find him stomping the pieces of a cellphone and stuffing them into a plastic bag pulled from the rubbish bin. “This used to be a secure line that my brother’s been using to contact me. He’s picked up Crispin heading northeast.”
“That phone’s compromised?”
“Not by itself. Not for sure.” He looked up at her from his now kneeling position. She could see a few emotions frittering across his face. Some more pissed than others. “Did you, by chance, make a phone call after I told you not to?”
“You told me not to use my phone.”
“Semantics, Amber! There’s a woman you call fairly often. A friend, I presume. One whose phone patterns mattered enough that Crispin thought to trace her and not just you.”
“Oh, no! Fergie. Is she okay?”
“For now. Oristad is heading over there.”
“He’s like you, then? He’ll keep her safe?”
Some of those questionable emotions evaporated from his face and that foolish little endearing wink of his appeared. “Kinda scrawny, not so pretty. Hates humans. But he’ll kill anyone who tries to touch your friend. Worry less about them and more about us. Our own lives are in far more immediate danger.”
Amber couldn’t find fault with that logic. In the most basic of terms, the situation had made the grand leap from a game of hide and seek to a foot race. But…no, that didn’t make much sense either. She grabbed his wrist and pulled back. “We’re not thinking this through. Seljuk. He knows where we are, true. But he doesn’t know exactly where we’re going. He can’t.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“I paid for it all in advance. No credit cards. Cash, money orders only. But, well, damn. I flew. I always flew there. You don’t think…”
But she could tell from his face that yes, he did think. If Prince Crispin were thorough enough to go through her phone records, then surely he’d have the good sense to check her travel history. Ever since she’d inherited this duty from her grandmother, she’d made sure to protect the scrolls — but from weather or disaster, not the direct evil intent of others. And now that she’d practically gifted the bastard with a general map of the direction he was going, he’d have immediately put two and two together.
Amber didn’t have to ask and Seljuk didn’t have to say. It didn’t matter how they got there, car, road or on the back of a rhinoceros. Crispin would be there waiting. Hell, he might even be there already.
Though Seljuk was closer to the door, Amber’s hand reached the knob first. As she turned it, she heard the banging of knuckles on wood. She tried to move, but couldn’t, her legs were so frozen with fear. Seljuk racked the slide of his gun. The metal scratched and almost howled as it hiccupped back into place. Half of her felt reassured by the sound. The other sank deeper into the invisible pile of cement at her feet.
“Housekeeping! Well, at least, front desk, anyway,” said the voice on the other side of the door. Masculine and, from what she could tell, very human. Waves of concern were radiating off of Seljuk, but she tried to concentrate on the voice. It started speaking again.
“Hello? You guys still here? There’s a package here. Says, ‘To Keeper,’ whatever that means.” The last was mumbled, but the owner of the voice cleared its throat and soldiered on. “Says it’s from Or-read-stran. No, ‘stan.’ Yeah, Or-read-stan.”
Amber shivered and gathered her clothes more tightly around herself.
“Thanks. Just leave it at the door,” Seljuk said in an almost level tone.
There was an audible, ‘whatever,’ but with the sound of retreating footsteps, she could feel the blood begin to course though her body. The pins and needles reminded her that she was still alive. She reached for the door, but Seljuk’s hand grabbed hers, kissed it, then slid under her body as he maneuvered to pick her up and carry her back to the bed they’d shared just a few minutes ago.
“I’d like to believe that whatever that is came from my brother, but just in case, how about we sit and enjoy the rising sun?”
She was in his lap, half turned to him, her shoulder on his chest, her head, nestled under his. Despite the fact that he clearly thought some incendiary device just outside the door, she felt safe here, with him. Safe in a room with one exit that may or may have a bomb alongside it. Safer even than she’d felt before this whole mess started. And if she was meant to die today, then she was determined to die with the kiss of a beautiful man on her lips.
At thirty-two, she’d never quite figured out why people in horror films found time to make love. It’d seemed silly up until this very moment. Adrenaline? Fear? Or the hope that if she had to go, she wouldn’t go alone? Perhaps a mixture of all three? She didn’t know. But she needed him. Needed to feel him. Needed to know he was there.
Amber rotated in his lap until her legs were on either side of his torso. She opened her mouth to say - to ask - but his came upon hers like a wave upon a most welcoming and parched shore. He tasted so very different than the human men she’d spent the last few years kissing
.
Her hands slid up his arms. The muscles quivered beneath her touch, but didn’t break their hold on her. He grew, hardening and lengthening against her stomach. And the smell! Ibra! The scent of him grew until it burned her eyes. Could a smell cut? Could it sting? Theirs combined was so sharp that it was a wonder they weren’t shredding the air that swirled around them.
His hands were on her bottom, kneading and pressing her into him. He inhaled deeply against her throat and caught her skin between his teeth. Seljuk bowed his head further and she arched up, giving him better access to her breasts. While one of his hands tightened its grip, the other came forward to undo the buttons on her shirt. He didn’t bother unfastening her bra, instead reaching in to lift her left breast from the flimsy silk covering. In the next moments, teeth, tongue and lips were all she felt.
“Please?” Had that come from her? Had he reduced her to begging?
“Please.” The word had come again, and yes, it had come from her lips.
“Okay, baby.”
Her head moved from side to side, her nose taking in him and the bed. The disgusting, pre-stained, unrelentingly horrid, bed. Someone may as well have dumped them into the waters of the Arctic. Her arousal dropped to immeasurable levels.
And from the scents emanating from him, she wasn’t alone. She looked up and locked eyes with him. Once ablaze with raw lust, the need there now lay reduced in smoldering embers.
He cleared his throat against her temple. “A rain check, perhaps? Someplace a little less of a petri dish?”
“Sure,” she said, never considering an attempt to stop the laughter that bubbled out of her. “You know, if I had to face the end of an era, I’m glad it’s with you.”
“It won’t come to that. Hush, now,” he said, making his way to the door. “I want you go into the bathroom. Disgusting or not, I’d prefer another wall between you and whatever is outside this door.”
“I’m not moving.”
“That wasn’t an interrogative statement.”
“That thing’s for me.” She held up a halting hand. “Yeah, I know it might be a trap, but I’m dead anyway, if whatever’s in there takes you out. Besides, not sure how you expect me to live with your death on my shoulders.”
“I expect you to live. Period. Go!”
She folded her arms and raised her eyebrows in response.
“You realize there’s a less than good chance my brother is the one who sent what’s out there.”
“We either open this door together, or not at all.” She put her hand atop Seljuk’s and together they pulled.
There were no explosions.
No bombs.
No fires.
No great tools of death.
Just flowers. Absolutely beautiful flowers. Roses of yellow, orange and pink in a clear and unassuming vase. “Oh, but they’re lovely.” She bent to pick them up, swatting Seljuk’s hand away. She loved roses. Always had and always ordered them for herself on the 12th day of each month. Her own little way of celebrating her birthday. Just as it occurred to her that this information couldn’t have been known to Seljuk’s brother, the world went very crazy. And slow. And elongated. And so very heavy. Even her head. It took everything she had to force her head towards Seljuk. And, oh, he looked so very sad.
Chapter Four
He caught her just before she collapsed to the floor. With her over his left shoulder, he grabbed all their belongings and rushed outside. Seljuk threw his nose towards the wind, but smelled no other sea peoples nearby. “Cowardly bastard.”
Carefully he placed Amber into the car, strapped her in and locked the door. He drove inches away from the motel door and hopped out to investigate.
The roses had no effect on him. He’d smelled them the same time Amber had. Certainly not as deeply, but there had been no similar assaults to his system. The human who’d delivered them appeared to have done so without distress either.
He picked up a single rose and took in a lung-filling breath. Nothing. The realization of what that meant rocked him like a punch to the gut. Only the outside wall of the motel kept him upright. There was one thing he knew of that was harmless to humans and Ionians, but potentially lethal to Merlids, a bacteria from the sea louse Caligidae. Tiny, nearly invisible … and deadly.
He kicked the vase into a million glass crystals as he ran back to the car. Once inside though, he leaned against the steering wheel. How the hell could he save her? He knew the tiny beings had natural predators in the north - Scotland and Ireland. The Selkies had a hell of a trade in that business, but a lot of no good to Amber here and now.
There must be something else. Had to be! He wasn’t a chemist or microbiologist, but wasn’t stupid either. The seas were full of small organisms. Those things ran the gamut from helpful to deadly, but generally speaking…
Seljuk felt the first bits of hope begin to take root. They had various names all around the seas, but at the end of the day, it was basic bacteria — at least in its early stages. And the very bottom of everything, no matter what any entity transformed into, their cores remained the same. Was he any less of a shark in this human form? Hell, no. What hurt him at sea also hurt him here. Why would bacteria be any different?
“Dihydrogen oxide,” he said aloud. Occurring naturally the world over, humans…oh, those wonderful and clever things…had made good use of it too. They’d packaged it, labeled it, over and undercharged it for it decades.
The back of his car fishtailed as he pealed out of the parking lot. Help was so close. “Hang on baby. Your humans have come though again.”
He turned into the first pharmacy he came across, nearly plowing down two construction workers in the process. Seljuk paid them little attention. The only things that mattered were the doors separating him from the precious medication that could save Amber. He grabbed a cart and filled with it every bottle in every brand they had.
Seljuk jerked as a slack-jawed, spot ridden teenage clerk tapped him on the shoulder. “What?”
“You okay, man? I mean, that’s a lot of peroxide. You like, one of them preppers or something?”
He had no idea what a ‘prepper’ was and didn’t get a chance to ask.
“Me too,” the boy said, nodding to himself and looking expectantly from side to side. “We got a whole case loaded in the back. How many boxes? I got you, man.”
Ten minutes later he was checking out with the still yakking kid. Seljuk moved his head affirmatively each time the clerk stopped to catch his breath. Twelve boxes, with twelve bottles in each box.
“163.74. Cheapest lifesaver ever.”
Seljuk handed him a wad of cash. “You have no idea.”
“Oh yeah, I do. Whatever it is, it’s starting now.” As he handed Seljuk his change, he leaned over conspiratorially. “I mean, those construction workers outside, right? Driving up and down the road, swinging in for something from the diner, then driving this same stretch of highway. Makes no sense. When I was a kid, this place was booming. Like a mini Silicon Valley or something. But that all went bust. Everybody sold out. Now all of sudden these two, only two, construction workers show up. Three days they’ve been here. Just sitting. Like they’re waiting for something. Real creepers, you know what I mean? I think…”
But Seljuk had stopped listening. His mind worked backwards to the men he nearly ran over pulling into the parking lot. He hadn’t scented them, but his every thought had been directed towards getting Amber what she needed.
He pushed the cart towards the door, keeping his steps easy and light. The doors opened. A light breeze kissed his face just as the squeal of tires turning much too fast, assaulted his ears. The black car in front of him was empty. His Amber was gone.
Chapter Five
Seljuk’s ears throbbed with the sound of his heart cracking. The wheels of the cart cried in protest, but he couldn’t risk leaving the bounty behind, and started hurling the boxes into the backseat. With each turn away from the cart, he watched the pickup truck pull f
urther and further away, until it was just a dot on the horizon. After what seemed like eons, he was able to pick up the chase.
The two-lane highway was devoid of any other traffic. The speeding dot ahead was still in view and not changing in size.
Only by feel, because he didn’t dare take his eyes off the horizon, Seljuk released the nitro booster, kicking up his speed to three times the factory levels. The world around him traveled in streaks of brown and tan, but the only thing holding his focus was the incrementally enlarging spot ahead of him.
Five miles later, he was able to make out the outline of a pickup truck.
Ten miles beyond that, he could make out two figures in the cab. No sign of Amber. If they’d thrown her in the back like a pile of trash, their deaths would be especially slow. There was the even worse possibility that she wasn’t in there at all. That this was just a diversion and Amber was already dead, but being hauled off in the opposite direction.
The engine screamed at the weight of his foot, but he couldn’t let up. More than just the future of his people was at stake. His soul, it seemed, also stood on the block.
Seljuk flinched, but didn’t duck as shots rang out from the car in front of him. Damned if he didn’t smile a little. He couldn’t be sure if the bastards realized that his car was bulletproof, but took their shots as signals of desperation.
He pulled his gun from the small of his back and racked the slide against the door paneling before rolling down the window and aiming for a tire.
He didn’t miss.
Seljuk then brought his car to a squealing stop while giving the wheel a hard turn. It left him perpendicular to the car in front of him. It also gave him a clear shot of the opposite rear tire. Another direct hit.
He righted the car and continued the pursuit. The pickup floundered, going this way and that, like an eel slithering for its miserable life. One of the bastards jumped out of the car and made a run for the open desert. He didn’t have a chance.
Seljuk lowered the passenger window and got off three rounds. At least one was true. He saw the man falter though his rearview window. Seljuk wasn’t sure if it was a mortal wound in and of itself, but out here, nature had its own way of reclaiming the dying.
