by C. M. Owens
The shattering of glass barely registers as a sound in my overwhelmed and nearly deafened state.
More energy streaks shoot across the land and the shrieks halt when the figures begin flashing away in retreat. I squeal out my pain as arms collect me from the ground.
"It's me," a voice echoes through my drowning ears as it tries to comfort my screams.
I look into the icy blue eyes I just left, and I gasp as see Jace carrying me in a blur.
He's one of us.
"You're imm-"
A screech erupts almost too close behind us, and energy surges from Jace to the pale-faced attacker. I screech as more begin to surround us, and an eruption of energy surges toward them to send their once weaponized screams into piercing screams of pain instead.
I groan in pain as he places me in the jeep when my ribs contract and remind me of their wounds. He flashes to the driver's seat and floors the gas pedal, slinging dirt and grass up behind us.
I grunt and cry out each time we hit a bump, and the death-defying pace only quickens.
"I'm sorry, Adisia. I know you're hurting, but we have to get away from here. I'm sure you're scared, and I know you have a lot of questions. I promise I'll answer them as soon as I find a safe place to leave you," he announces over the rumbling engine.
I cringe a little as I grip the aching side, and murmur through the pain, "The only question I have is why are there immortals in the vortex, and what in the hell were those things?"
His eyes widen, and I'm flogged by unruly bushes jumping into the jeep when he runs off the road. I yell at him as one of the branches breaks the skin on my face.
"Damn it! Do you know how to fucking drive?"
"Sorry," he yelps as he jerks it back onto the road. "Are you-"
"I'm mortal," I interrupt. "Obviously," I add while motioning to my tattered body.
"Then how do you-"
"It's a long, long story, and right now it hurts to try and speak. So you do the talking. Who were they?" I assert.
"Sirens," he murmurs with a slightly fearful tone etching his voice.
"That didn't look like a bunch of mermaids singing to lure sailors to their death on the jagged rocks," I murmur through the pain of the jostling ride.
"Apparently you're not as educated as I just thought," he sighs.
"I never claimed to be educated. I just know the basics. Explain the details please."
"Sirens are monsters. They don't have the ability to produce offspring thankfully, but they're hard as hell to kill. They're like carnivorous children with a vampiric desire to drain someone of everything in them.
"They're savage, brutal, and merciless. Their screams are deadly, and that's what led me to you. I knew the vortex had been compromised when I was able to cross the line. Sirens are only created in times of excess immortal energy radiating around for too long. Something big has apparently happened, but I don't know what," he says distractedly as his mind races for answers.
Something big - like a month long rewind. Crap!
The ground beneath us starts quaking, and I turn around to watch in gaping disbelief as the hill where we just were sinks into the earth. Dust storms emerge in swirls as the land turns inside out, and the house is wiped away like a forgotten blemish.
"What the-?" I squeal.
"I don't know," he mumbles as he gasses the jeep more.
I rip my phone from my purse, but the screen is cracked into almost nothing. The stubborn thing still won't turn back on either. Devin will be horrified if this comes on the news, considering he's keeping tabs on the local station's updates.
"Why won't my phone work?" I growl.
"The sirens were created in the vortex. Anything alive was killed during spawning. Anything subjected to their sound waves in the initial birth phase is also killed. It's amazing you're still alive," he breathes nervously.
"So they were created in the vortex?" I ask to deter the conversation of yet another near death experience.
"Yes, but I don't know why. It's happened once before. The Bermuda Triangle was once the vortex several centuries ago. I don't think I have to explain to you what it is now," he says chillingly.
"Oh. Is that going to happen here?" I gasp.
"I don't know. It's not like there's a set standard. Like I said, it's only ever happened once."
He abruptly jerks the car to the right, making my body tense and my sides contract. I scream out slightly from the rude and painful interference, and his hand rests on my leg to offer comfort.
"Sorry. We just need to get the bloody hell away from here. Sirens can track very vigorously, and they'll be coming after their prey that escaped," he explains.
"Does your phone work?" I whimper.
"No. The screams crumbled it," he says with a frown.
"I don't suppose you have a whole box full of extras?" I mumble sardonically.
He looks over at me curiously. "Why would I-"
"Never mind," I interrupt.
He shifts gears as he turns sharply down another narrow road, and once again I scream out. He flinches at my pronouncement of pain.
"You need a phone?" he asks worriedly. "You need to go to the hospital?"
"No hospitals. I need to call my fiancé," I mumble.
"You really are engaged?" he asks curiously.
"You thought I was lying?"
"I thought you were giving me a gentle brush off considering there's no ring," he sighs disappointedly. "You probably don't want him getting involved in all of this," he cautions.
You have no idea about all the crap he's involved in.
Devin will squash those vicious monsters for what they've done to me. I have to get a hold of him before he sees all this.
"It's important I talk to him," I whimper.
"I'll find you a phone the moment we get far enough away from all of this," he promises in a gruff, irritated tone. "I still don't think it's a good idea."
I just recline the seat back and close my eyes to drown out the horrific reality. My aching ribs continue to be jarred around in the rough ride that needs new shocks, and the taste of blood still stings in my mouth.
I'm almost terrified to see what I look like.
"Adisia, wake up. We're here," Jace's calming voice says.
I open my eyes just as he scoops me up and grimace in pain when he touches me just wrong. He pulls me into his chest as he heads into a large apartment building.
"Where are we?" I mumble.
"My flat in Dublin. We'll be safe here. It's overcrowded, and it's drenched in mortal pheromones," he assures.
"Do you think the sirens will come here?"
"No. The lights will be too bright. Sirens need the dark, and Dublin stays very well lit just like most large cities. It'll be daylight soon, and I'll start tracking them down. If they get in the sun, they disintegrate."
"Like vampires?" I exclaim.
"Oh don't tell me you believe in vampires. That's not what you think I am, is it?" he scoffs.
"No. I know there aren't any vampires, or at least I don't think so. I don't know what I know these days. I was just pointing out the similarity," I grumble.
"Something like that, vampires I mean. They don't suck blood, have hypnotic power, or have any romanticism about them though," he says to mock me a little.
"You said they drain the life out of you," I remind.
"Yeah. Their screams subdue you, and they draw out your energy to feed themselves once your vessel is void of life. Now please tell me how you know about my world," he prompts.
I start to answer his question, but our ascent is very short. The elevator stops on a floor that isn't the top, and we walk down a hallway of doors.
This is different. I've become a little snooty in assuming all immortals lived as ostentatiously as Devin.
He tilts me back as he jingles the keys to open his door.
I smile a little at the bachelor pad revealed when he flips on the light. There's not a stitch of real art.
&n
bsp; Hockey sticks decorate one wall. Rugby equipment decorates another. Several flagrant posters of women in provocative poses decorate the rest. Beer cans have accumulated and clutter every surface of the house while dirty clothes mixed with clean ones carpet the floors. There are at least ten layers of dust on everything except for the massive flat screen mounted on the far wall and the leather couch which has unruly splits and cracks to reveal the softer material inside.
"Sorry," he murmurs. "I wasn't expecting company."
My eyes widen when I catch a glimpse of the leaning tower of dishes protruding from the kitchen sink like a shattering safety hazard.
"I can see that," I snicker, and then I grab my side from the accidental jolt.
"I'll find some medicine," he murmurs gently as he swats away clothes from the couch with his foot before laying me on it.
"You have some?" I ask curiously.
"No, but I'm sure one of my neighbors will. I'll be right back," he promises.
I continue to gauge the small space in disbelief. The dreadful yellow dims the room with its obnoxious hue. He's the complete opposite of Devin. He has so many things littering his tabletops, and there's no organization for the chaos. I've almost been spoiled by my neat freak.
I need to find a phone, but I'll wait until I get something on my face, side, arms… damn, I'm cut up everywhere.
I slowly climb up, and I grimace as I hobble on my apparently sprained ankle as I search for a bathroom.
I gasp as I open the door to a bedroom and see a pitiful, messy bed layered with mismatched sheets, pillow cases, and a tired comforter. The scratched furniture looks like it's been around for centuries - which is completely possible - and the windows are draped with old sheets with duct tape holding them in place over the top.
It looks like a fifteen-year-old lives here rather than a centuries old immortal.
I feel a little grossed out by the oversized mirror that goes up the backside of the bed and continues to the ceiling over the bed even though I wouldn't mind embarking on such an exhibition with Devin.
Obviously most immortal men are playboys.
But as my eyes fall back down and settle straight ahead, I gasp as I see the horrific image of me completely ravaged.
My hair is tousled as though I've just walked through a hurricane, my dress is ripped and tattered, dirt is covering most of my body, and there are large cuts all over me. My face has suffered several brutal blows, and bruises have already formed purplish patterns.
Bloody trails slither down my body as gravity drags them. I cringe as I see my knees completely bloody and devastatingly battered, and then I finally see the ankle that is making me want to cry.
It's swollen, completely black in discoloration. I might have done more than sprain the aching thing.
I see a light creeping out from the bottom of a crack, and I push the door open to a cramped bathroom. I decide I need a shower more than I need medicine after seeing that red-stained girl in the mirror.
I adjust the rickety spout, and the water surges free from the groaning pipes.
It takes a minute to decide which towels are clean and which ones aren't since he apparently doesn't fold, but I finally take my chances and lay one out.
I shut the door, and the water streams down with its red stain pooling at the drain as it washes away the clumps of blood that have gathered. Gravel and other small fragments that were imbedded into my knees and elbows wash away as well, but they leave their printed indentions behind to remind me of what I endured.
I grimace as I try to wash my hair because my cracked ribs sting when I lift my arms too high.
"Adisia?" Jace eases out, his voice far too close.
"Yeah," I yell from the shower.
I hear the door slowly opening, and I almost hold my breath. What am I thinking? I barely know him, and I just jumped into his shower?
That's just begging for trouble, and I wouldn't be any sort of struggle to him and his super strength.
You look like death's bitch, so he's not trying to fuck you.
"I'll find you something to wear. Do you need anything else?" he asks with genuine concern.
I breathe out in relief. He saved my life, and he's shown me nothing but kindness. I don't know why I'm so worried.
I pull back the shower curtain enough to poke my head out so I can see him.
"If you have something to eat that would be great. I've barely had anything today, and I'm starving."
"I'll order us something. If I have anything here, it's probably growing fur. I don't generally have company."
I laugh a little, and again my side throbs in pain.
"Judging by your very elaborate mirror, I'd say that was a falsehood," I tease.
He blushes a little and shrugs. "I don't normally have company for very long, I guess I should say," he chuckles out nervously.
I roll my eyes as I climb back under the water.
"Any chance of finding a phone?" I ask hopefully.
"Not tonight. It was like pulling teeth to get my neighbors to let me buy their medicinal supplies. I doubt they'll loan me a phone no matter what the price, and the only stores open right now wouldn't be selling phones."
I smirk a little. Devin would have three phones on hand as backups in case something happened to his stash. He always plans ahead so he's never unprepared. Now I have to wait until morning to call my most likely terrified fiancé.
"Devin's going to be so worried," I grumble to myself.
"You're lover's name is Devin?" Jace pipes up.
I wasn't aware he was still in the bathroom.
"Yeah," I answer vaguely. "Apparently your open book statement was also a fallacy. Is it impolite of me to asking what embodiment you descend from?"
I don't know him well enough to divulge too much, and he hasn't told me anything about himself.
"That's a very polite and proper way of asking," he teases.
I've been around Devin too long apparently.
"I just don't know the rules of what you are and are not allowed to do in your world," I offer.
I still haven't told him I'm destined to be an immortal, but I might.
"Well, I'm a son of Zeus on my father's side. He was a direct son. On my mother's, I'm a descendent of Hestia. She was quite the jokester, but she was also very wise and carried the gift of visions. Are you freaked out yet?"
"No. I assumed you were from some electric embodiment, given your power," I add.
"Wow. You know a little more than I've accredited you for now. How is it you know so much and so little?" he murmurs in astonishment. "Are you going to be immortal?"
"Why do you ask that?" I quickly ask in order to sidestep his question.
"Because you know about us. Usually one who is to be one of us knows about sirens though. It's a general lesson. I'm a little confused by you," he admits.
I turn the water off, and the knobs squeak as they return to their resting place. I pull the towel over the shower rod, and clasp it around me before stepping out.
His eyes widen, and he looks away shyly.
"It's just a towel. My dress covered less," I mumble sardonically.
My hair drips the water in small, spread out streams as I wipe my feet on the bath rug.
"Your dry body in your dress didn't look as enticing as your wet one in my towel," he seduces with a rattled tone.
"I'm engaged," I quickly remind.
"I know," he huffs. "I'm sure it's going to be odd seeing him now that you've had to endure all of this, even though you don't seem so shaken."
"I'm shaken, but I'm also able to cope with such things. I've seen worse, I've felt worse pain, and I've suffered a worse fate," I growl.
"That's how you know. You were attacked, and no one wiped your memories. How is that possible?" he asks with intrigue.
"No one felt it necessary to wipe my memories," I say casually. "Where are those clothes you promised?"
"Oh, right," he says as he flashes out of the room. He r
eturns within a breath and hands me a tee-shirt and a pair of boxers. "Sorry. Slim pickings."
"It's fine. It's better than Raggedy Ann's dress," I grumble as my eyes point to the tattered remnants of my dress.
"True," he says with a shrug. "I'll give you some privacy, and then I'll doctor your wounds."
"Thanks," I say with a smile as he shuts the door behind him.
I drop the towel, and stare at the large bruise discoloring my side where my cracked ribs lay hidden. I continue to assess the unfathomable amount of damage just a few blows did by things that had just formed.
Their childish curiosity was so piqued because they essentially were children - brutal, morbid, and psychopathic children.
I grunt while pulling on the shirt and sigh at the incredibly loose boxers I have to roll up several times to somewhat secure them in place. I can't find a brush or comb, so I'm forced to finger comb my wet hair into place after I dry it with the towel the best I can.
He has absolutely nothing a girl needs to get ready. Apparently his guests are never overnight stays.
I walk out - or limp out rather - and he's flopped on the couch while flipping through the Irish channels. There's a wild assortment of various medicinal supplies, and I laugh a little at their bizarre order.
"So what do you really do for a living?" I muse.
"I'm a bounty hunter. I was telling the truth about that. I'm excellent at tracking down people, and it's easy to bring in a mortal," he says with a shrug before motioning for me to join him on the couch.
I hobble over, my ankle starting to hurt worse and forcing me to hop a little. He quickly flashes over to scoop me up in an effort to keep me from hurting myself worse.
His scent engulfs me, masking the dirty sock stench of the apartment he calls home.
This is how I assumed bachelors lived.
"Why were you so close to the vortex?"
He puts me down gently before sifting through his assortment of first aid. He pours a dab of alcohol on a cotton swab, and I flinch as he touches it to my marred cheek. He tightens his lips, and then repeats the motion much gentler.
"It's been a while since I had to do this. Bear with me," he says gently. I nod and he continues. "I’ve been tracking a group of immortals. They're chasing after someone I need, and I lost them close to the vortex. I'm not sure where they went after they got there. Most likely they caught my scent, and then they started covering their trail."
