The Sorcerer King and the Fire Queen

by Ana Lee Kennedy

  “Yes, we are, my friend.”

  Her words rocketed me back in time. I found myself reclining on a cushioned bench with curled ends as back rests with stags and boars carved into the wood. Next to me, Maureen sat dressed in a long, heavy tunic dress. Even in the vision she was green-eyed and blonde.

  “He loves you,” she said to me.

  “I know this,” I replied, “but I put his life in danger as well as yours.”

  “Those who look down upon a harlot are not without sin themselves.” She leaned over and placed a kiss upon my cheek. “I am not worried about my safety. You and the White King are my only concern. Flee with him, my friend. The Sons of God won’t stop until they possess you and murder him.”

  “Ruby?” A warm hand shook my arm. “Ruby!”

  Jolted out of the vision, I found myself poolside again, the wind rustling the surrounding palm and fern fronds. My gaze snapped up to meet Maureen’s.

  “What just happened?” she asked.

  “A vision.”

  She smiled. “I mean what was it about?”

  “How did—?”

  “You forget I hear snippets of what goes on in a person’s mind.”

  I shivered and tried to shake the feeling of doom. The Sons of God? Why did that seem so familiar? Hadn’t I compared Solomon to them a few nights ago?

  “Ruby?” Maureen urged.

  Quickly, I relayed the vision to her and told her about some of the others I’d had over the past few weeks and especially the last few days.

  “And when Solomon and his sister were assaulted by those hunters, he said they called him ‘White King’ too,” I finished, wishing for once that the intense Florida heat would chase the chill from my body. “Do you know what the Sons of God are?

  “No, I don’t. What do you think it all means?”

  “I don’t know, but I do know that the trip, the bikers—everything’s tied together somehow.”

  “I think you’re right,” she said. “History repeats itself.”

  I frowned curiously.

  “History has a way of starting all over again.” Maureen stretched out on the chaise and set her now-empty glass on the patio tile between us. “Historians say history runs in cycles, that only the people, names, and places change. It’s like fashion. Look at all the clothing styles from thirty and forty years ago that are back on the market now. And the world shares a collective consciousness, so it’s only natural history would repeat itself.”

  What an incredible concept. Could Maureen be right? And wouldn’t that mean the three of us had been reincarnated?

  “Yes,” said Maureen, “reincarnation.”

  I quirked a brow at her for hearing my thoughts. “I don’t believe in reincarnation, and even if it’s true, it doesn’t explain why we’re back together again.”

  “Unless you’re an atheist, every religion believes in a soul or spirit for each person.” She gestured toward the night sky. “Christians believe our souls are pieces of God because we’re made in His image. Maybe there’s only so many pieces of Him to go around, so He has to recycle a few souls every now and then, especially if the jobs those souls were meant to do go unfinished.”

  Incredulous, I stared hard at Maureen. What had happened to my ditzy Marilyn Monroe look-a-like? Was her naivety and childlike charm a façade?

  “No,” she answered my unspoken question. “I told you Aunt Lula educated me well. Plus, I love to read.”

  The thunderous sound of motorcycles assaulted the night. I gasped, stiffening in my chair. Maureen’s hand sought mine again, and we sat there waiting, our attention riveted on the motel office and its entranceway.

  The bikes slowed, their riders gearing them down. To my dismay, the roar of the steel horses turned into the entrance. One bike after another filed into the parking lot, the sound of their motors vibrating my bones. They all shut down by the office. The big man, who the others had called Azazel, motioned at the psycho redhead. Her boyfriend helped her off the Harley, and she walked inside, ducking slightly as she stepped through the door. Even from the poolside, I could still see the stunned expression on the night clerk’s face.

  “RUBY! HE WILL SENSE YOU. PROTECT YOURSELF!”

  Without hesitation, I called upon the power nestled deep within me and let the invisible force flow out of my hands and over Maureen and I where we sat. She glanced over at me, somehow knowing what I’d just done. Next, I reinforced the ward already in place around the suite where Solomon sat watching television.

  He must have heard the racket caused by the bikes. He peeped around the edge of the doorway. I motioned for him to go back inside. If he stepped out now, they’d see him.

  He offered me a helpless look, and I again motioned that he stay put. Slowly, he drew back and partially shut the door so that a narrow line of light spilled across the sidewalk.

  The red-haired chick exited the office and tossed keys to a few of the others. The thirteen motorcycles roared to life again. They passed us to park two-by-two in the middle parking spaces lining the motel. The choppers shifted from machine to half beast, their snarls, growls, and shrieks one with the thrum of the engines.

  Maureen hissed in surprise. “What are they riding?”

  “You see them too?” I asked. “Demonic animal heads in place of the handlebars and gas tanks?”

  “Yes, but how is that possible?” she whispered.

  The bikers dismounted, tossing the beasts’ silver reins over the seats. They grabbed some of their gear from saddlebags and paired off in twos, threes, and fours into the center section of rooms. The doors shut behind them, and my gaze returned to the beast bikes as they transformed into suicide machines once more.

  “Ruby, I’m scared,” Maureen said softly.

  “So am I.”

  “What about Solomon?”

  “I’ve cast a protection ward over us and reinforced the one around our suite. Solomon will be fine as long as he doesn’t come outside.” I stood and pulled her to her feet too. “Just in case, we’ll skirt the privacy wall around the parking lot, slip behind the dumpster, and then run to our room from there.”

  We walked to the pool gate where I halted and looked at her. “Not a word or sound.”

  She nodded.

  Holding hands, we stayed close to the pool’s chain-link fence and turned right around its corner to hug the high privacy wall surrounding the motel’s lot. Thank God we were both barefoot. With less worry of making noise, we traversed the length of the fence, but I still expected one of those demonic things to let out a piercing scream, alerting the others to our presence.

  We reached the back corner and began to creep along the shorter wall until we arrive at the dumpster. There, we stooped, peeking around the back of it, the stench of rotting vegetation and other trash almost unbearable. From our vantage point, I detected movement through the crack in our suite’s door, so I knew Solomon watched and waited.

  “USE YOUR POWER. POP THE SECURITY LIGHT, THEN CROSS TO THE DOOR IN THE DARKNESS.”

  “Did you hear that?” Maureen whispered.

  “What?”

  “That voice.”

  I looked at her. “That was in my head. You heard it?”

  She nodded, her eyes huge.

  This just gets weirder and weirder.

  Maureen frowned at me.

  “Stop listening to what’s going on in my head!”

  “I can’t. It’s like a radio station that filters in and out.” She pressed closer, trembles passing through her body.

  “It seems your ability is growing stronger,” I mused.

  “No, it’s the fact we’re friends now,” she replied, “so I can tune into your thoughts easier.” She glanced at me. “Whose voice is it?”

  “I have no clue. It’s been with me since the morning I left to go south.” Sighing, I gathered strength from deep inside me. “Okay, I’m going to zap the light, so be ready to move.”

  Kneeling, I faced the wall and stared up at the sec
urity lamp bathing the last two motel rooms in false daylight. This time, the power rose without me really calling upon it, as if it had been waiting for me to summon it. Although surprised, I also realized that the glow and odd hair and nail color didn’t occur if I was in control of my power. The awful sting coursed down my arms, into my palms, and exited out my extended hands. One short, sparkly white burst hit the lamp, and it popped, its innards dying. Darkness shrouded the last two doors and the dumpster.

  “Well?” Maureen said.

  I waited, my gaze stuck to the choppers lined up in the spaces. They remained inanimate.

  “Nothing’s happening,” I said. “The bikes are just sitting there.” I crouched, poised to sprint to the door. “Okay, let’s go.”

  She took my hand, and together, we rushed to our suite. Once there, I shoved the door open, and we stumbled through. Our feet tangled, and Solomon caught us before we landed on top of one another. With my foot, I nudged the door shut.

  “What the hell are you two doing?” Solomon asked as he steadied me on my feet. “I heard those choppers and couldn’t think of anything except how to reach you.” He pulled me against him and kissed me.

  Allowing myself a moment to enjoy the security he offered, I absorbed the comfort and attention. Finally, I stepped back and filled Solomon in on what was going on, and then told him and Maureen about seeing the bikers at St. Augustine’s campground.

  “We should leave,” said Maureen. “We’ll wait until about two or three in the morning, when most everyone will be asleep, then quietly check out.”

  He shook his head. “I think we should stay. Wait them out.”

  Across the room, the dog emitted a big sigh.

  “Don’t you think they’ll recognize the SUV when they see it in the daytime?” I asked.

  “Not unless they took down my plate numbers. There are hundreds of black Excursions driving around,” he said. “Look, if we sit tight and let them leave first, they’ll be ahead of us instead of following us.”

  “How’s that going to help our situation?” Pacing, I gestured as I spoke to vent stress and frustration. “I don’t know where I’m being drawn to, but it seems they’re traveling to the same destination. I think it would be a big mistake to let them get there first.”

  “Ruby’s right,” Maureen stated.

  Running one hand through his hair, Solomon closed his eyes and stood quietly for a moment. “Okay, we’ll pack up and then check out about three. That will put us in Key West around six a.m., depending on the morning work traffic.”

  A knock at the door nearly sent me shooting straight through the ceiling. Maureen and I grabbed one another.

  “What do we do?” she whispered.

  Solomon strode to the door and peeped through the spy hole. “Whoever he is, he doesn’t look like one of the bikers.” He turned and placed his index finger over his lips. “Who is it?” he called through the door.

  “Anthony.”

  The name shot through me like a spear.

  “Does that name mean anything to either of you?” asked Solomon.

  “Let him in,” I said, both elated and horrified at Anthony’s presence. “It’s my son.”

  “Please,” Anthony’s voice sliced through the door. “Ruby’s in danger. All of you are.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Son?” Solomon said.

  If it wasn’t for the severity of our situation, I would’ve cracked up laughing at his comical expression.

  “Yes. The person I went to see in St. Augustine.”

  Realization passed over Solomon’s face.

  Maureen nudged me and smiled, an understanding expression in her eyes. I smiled back.

  Opening the door, Solomon let Anthony inside.

  Close up, I realized how much Anthony looked like me. I saw Cole Vandercourt in him, too, but Anthony looked more like me right down to the high forehead, the widow’s peak, and dark green hazel eyes.

  Questions raced through my head. Should I hug him? Did he want to hug me? How did he know we were in danger? I began with the most obvious.

  “What are you doing here, Anthony? Does Katherine—your mom—know you’re here?”

  “No. Yes. Well, she knows I went looking for you but that’s all.”

  “You need to go back,” I said firmly. “You’re putting your life in danger coming here.”

  “I had to warn you, Ruby. I see...” He gulped and looked away. “I see things chasing you. I have dreams, see visions. They’re people, but not people.” When he finally met my gaze again fear shone in my son’s eyes. “And they ride motorcycles that aren’t really motorcycles—they’re demonic beasts. The bikers need you for something, and that’s the part I can’t see. It scares the hell out of me.”

  “You don’t know anything about me—”

  “These dreams and visions have been coming to me for the last several weeks, but they’ve grown worse the past few days.” He paced by the door. “I knew I had to find you, but when I told Mom about what was happening to me, she changed, started treating me differently like I frightened her.” Pausing, he stared at the door for a moment as if he might bolt from the room. “Somehow, I knew you were my real mom.” Anthony turned. “I remembered you at the Castillos and had felt and unbelievably pull from you. When I asked Mom if you were my real mother, she said yes and admitted I’d been adopted. She told me that my real mom was strange too.”

  Something shifted inside me, as if someone had suddenly yanked the bottom out of my stomach. Strange? Had she actually called him that? When she’d found out he was having visions, had she been eager to let him go?

  Solomon and Maureen moved into the kitchen. Anthony watched them go then focused on me again.

  “This has happened so fast, but I knew I had to find you, warn you, and go with you wherever you’re going.”

  An ear-splitting silence descended on the room.

  I sat at the table and indicated that he join me. “I asked your mother about you. She said you weren’t like me. Why would she lie?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know, but what I do know is that you’re in danger. You have to go south. I’ve been hearing this voice in my head all day and it tells me to go south with you.”

  “A voice?” A sinking sensation plagued my heart.

  “Yeah,” he tapped his index finger against one temple, “right here inside my brain.”

  Cupping the sides of my head, I propped my elbows on the tabletop and closed my eyes, willing everything to go away. I didn’t want my son placed in harm’s way, and if he traveled with us, he would definitely land in trouble. Why would Katherine lie to me, though? Granted, she hadn’t learned about his unique talent until a few weeks ago, so maybe she hadn’t processed it yet. Maybe she felt if she ignored it then the baby she’d raised would remain normal.

  I ignored my powers for a long time, but it never made them go away.

  “What do you want to do, Ruby?” Solomon said from the kitchen. “He’s obviously in danger too.”

  Solomon was right. If my son was being urged south by the same voice, then it meant he was facing the same thing I was.

  “We,” Maureen said. “You’re not facing these bikers alone.”

  Glancing at her, I realized she’d picked up on my thoughts again.

  “I think he should go with us,” she said.

  I sighed, the sound soulful, worn. Straightening my shoulders, I sat back and looked my son in the eye. “You’re twenty years old, Anthony. An adult. You do what you feel is right. Do what your inner voice whispers to you to do.”

  He offered me a sober expression. Finally, he nodded, and a thick lock of mahogany hair fell over his forehead. “I’m going with you,” he said. “I have to shut this voice up. It’s driving me crazy.” He shrugged. “Besides, I’ve always felt I was cut from a different cloth, that there was something out there for me besides a college education, a career, and the proverbial house with the white picket fence.”

&n
bsp; I glanced at the clock on the table: 10:50 p.m.

  “I have to call Loretta Detzer and let her know we’ll be in Key West tomorrow morning.” I picked up my purse to find the number stashed with the money. “Will you two tell Anthony about the bikers while I make the call?”

  “Come on, Solomon,” my hitchhiker stated, crossing the room.

  He joined Maureen and Anthony at the table. Solomon and handed me his iPhone. “Here.”

  I punched in the numbers. The line began to ring. At first, I thought Loretta picked up, but an answering machine message began to play. “This is Loretta Detzer’s residence. I’m not home right now, so please leave your name…”

  I let the message play out and left one of my own, stating where we were and when we thought we’d reach Key West. I hung up.

  “No answer?” Solomon asked.

  “Nope. No one answered the last time I checked in with her either.” At the table, I sat and accepted a plastic flute of Lambrusco from Maureen, who had retrieved the wine from the kitchen. “I wonder why she gave us her number if no one ever answers it?” A bad feeling began eating its way into my belly and it wasn’t the pork chops I’d cooked earlier.

  “Let’s hope the woman is legitimate.” Solomon sipped his wine.

  “Yeah, like anything about our trip has been normal,” I said, meeting Anthony’s worried gaze. I just couldn’t shake the weird sensation there was more to Loretta’s proposition than merely picking up a document and raking in one hundred grand. However, hadn’t I already known that? I would be lying to myself if I thought the idea had never entered my mind. I’d allowed myself to be seduced by dollar signs, but what would really be the price?

  ****

  I reinforced the protection ward around our room and extended it to encompass our vehicles. An hour later, we all decided to retire so we could get a few hours of shuteye before we hit the road at three a.m. I shared Maureen’s bed, and Anthony slept in mine. Occasionally, I heard Solomon moving in his room. Against my better judgment, I threw the covers back and padded to his bedroom off the kitchen.