The earth suffers. As barriers between the worlds fade, this suffering ricochets and crescendos through the magicals, bound by nature to logic and learning. Their concept of time’s passage differs from the human’s, driven by an escalating sense of declining time. Inside that framework, contingencies formed, willing to wait for a true Triune to materialize, but a growing number draw away. They fear, and we believe they are correct, that teaching humans the reality of the world and its complex balance will take longer than the planet has, based on this rate of abuse. The earth survives, changed, but the balance lies in a new place. Humans refuse to adjust. This is the crux. The deaths of the humans on the boats are a warning to you, Keeper. Heed it.
The writing faded, and the mist wafted out the open French doors. Vapors were intelligent, non-corporeal, and peacekeepers. Nothing in this interaction spoke of an agenda.
They came to warn me. Ballard or no, heart shredded and soul wiped, it was time to get moving. I needed a better plan.
Chapter 4
The current Mayor of Daytona was a total dickwad, but the former Mayor, Lincoln Loboli, was a werewolf. His mayorship imploded during the unfortunate collision of a Bike Week with a full moon. What I needed was an ally, so my Beetle curved up the drive of the palatial beach home and parked. Easing out, I caught the glance of a security person, another unshifted wolf, and swallowed with a click. Brown eyes, gold glinting in the irises, stared back, unblinking.
Humans are hardwired to fear this magic. It took sphincter power to keep my shit together and pretend to be a normal person walking toward the front entrance. The security wolf shook his hair, a soft growl reverberating from the depths of his throat. Not helpful.
Mayor Loboli opened the door with a toothy grin. I kept my face blank and nodded. Holy crap. I’m entering the den and had the creepy-crawling skin to prove it.
“Patra, your call surprised me, but I’m intrigued. Let’s talk.”
“Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mayor.”
Loboli gestured to a seat on the open back patio at a table arranged with a pitcher of water, glasses, and a snack of steak tartare, facing the rolling sea. I plopped opposite and exhaled, meeting his eyes with a frank look.
“I’ve got a situation, as I am sure you’re aware.”
“Oh, yeah, Keeper. We’re all watching.”
“With Bike Week looming, and rioting mer, I first need to discover whether the shifters are aligning with them?”
His head shook once in the negative. Whew. Okay.
“In that case, can I persuade you to help me clue in the present Mayor?”
“What do you intend to do?”
“Tell him what his true world order is, and make him understand what he’s dealing with, to start.”
“Herzog’s obtuse. He will never believe you.”
“That’s your piece. Are you willing to join me, add punctuation to the meeting, and let me trade on your shock value? It’s a big ask, I know. You’ve curated your privacy over the centuries, and I’m aware that this falls in the realm of a public display.”
Over time, wolves carved out a wealthy, isolated existence amongst humans. They must shift with the moon, an excellent night to stay the fuck out of the Ocala National Forest, but lore aside, they could shift whenever they wished. The unshifted wolf was a choice, not a requirement. If Loboli agreed to change in Herzog’s presence, that’s the perfect exclamation point on my little, ‘hey, humans share the world with magicals, and your town is next to ground zero. Right now, our truce is failing. How about helping?’ speech.
Plus, I needed the help. A co-lead on mitigating the mayhem Bike Week unleashed? I was one thousand percent down with avoiding more death.
Loboli leaned forward and raised an eyebrow as the color drained from my face. “That, dear Patra, might be fun, but I don’t see what’s in it for me other than potential unmasking and ongoing interference.”
He’s not wrong. Think.
“What is your opinion on the Triune?”
“That it’s fluid, undeveloped, and ripe to fail.”
“As human acceptance and learning about the magical world unfolds, do you stand to gain?”
“Possibly. Or they’ll attempt to corral or control. My emphasis is on attempt. The result won’t match the envisioned outcome.”
“Does having a seat at the table change your mind?”
He leaned back, and my skin settled from terror to a faint scream. While he mulled, I took a sip of water from the chilled glass, and waited.
“Terr-i-tor-y,” he said, each syllable landing between us as a manicured nail tapped the glass top. “We want protected woodland, national forests that are magical safe havens. We have our own culture, customs, and unlike your Native Americans, the ability to enforce a treaty.”
Eyes locked, the seconds ticked.
“Mayor, that idea rocks. More than you might know. Last October, this demand for forced adaptation was one of my beefs.”
“I was there. I heard you.”
“Thanks for not killing me before I got the truth out.”
“Thank Witch Glenna. I was down for a snack; she had other ideas.” A long forefinger traced a faint line of scarring along his cheek.
Head shot. Ouch.
Loboli pulled out his cell and tapped a number.
“Herzog? An issue came to my attention and we need to talk. A merchant, Cleopatra O’Keefe, will join us. Today, if possible. 2:30? Done.”
He swiped the call closed, grinning, canines dropping past his upper lip. A weak sauce smile spilled across my face and I rose, praying not to pee my damn pants.
“Impressive, Keeper. You’re not a full human, by any stretch. I’ll meet you downtown at 2:15.”
“Thank you, Mayor. Let’s move the needle and craft a better solution.”
Traffic was light, with a few early arrival Harleys blatting on A1A. The Beetle swooped over the new Silver Beach Bridge and rolled toward City Hall. I was on time and parked as a huge, matte-black Harley CVO slid into the slot next to mine. Loboli kicked the stand and swung a long, well muscled leg over the bike. An eyebrow went up as he busted me scoping the jeans.
“Keeper,” he grinned as my skin did that annoying prickle and attempt to slide off my body thing again.
“Sorry. That was unintended.”
“You would not survive it.”
He turned and strode, me double timing to keep on his heels. On the steps, several magicals nodded at him, and a few at me. Surprising, but welcomed. If Daytona Beach knew how many magical entities were part of their government, it’d blow the collective mind.
At the reception desk, the witch hanging up the phone grinned at Loboli. “Herzog’s expecting you. Let me make sure he’s alone.” Her body appeared to pause, but this was a frozen image as she popped herself into his office and back again. The figure in front of us reanimated, and she inclined her head.
“No interruptions,” Loboli said, and received a wink in reply.
Herzog rose as I closed the door. He leaned forward to shake Loboli’s hand, blenching, then reached for mine, squeezing my fingers harder than necessary. An annoying habit, used to remind you of his power.
Boy, do I have news for you, pal.
“What’s going on?” Herzog’s tone was no nonsense; he wanted this over and Loboli out of his office.
“Mayor, your city is undergoing a tremendous change and could use your help.” I was winging this, but whatever. “I suppose blunt is best. You preside over an unseen intersection of human and magical entities.”
Herzog snorted with laughter. Eyebrow raised, I waited.
“Oh, don’t laugh, Mayor. I know what killed those yacht owners and guests. If you want to stop these murders, I can help you.”
Herzog wiped his eyes. “Help me catch magic criminals?” His shoulders shook. “Why the fuck are you wasting my time, Loboli? We’re done here.”
Loboli leaned in, face sprouting a snout with serious teeth, then grinned. Herz
og whitened, hands shaking.
“Watch your tone with me,” Loboli’s voice, guttural with growl, hung between them as the odor of urine permeated the room.
I cleared my throat. “Mayor, the blending of the worlds is real and you’re fixing to have a titan worthy clash heaving across your city. The mer, a water dwelling race, attacked the boats. They are furious over the needless deaths under the surface caused by plastic and garbage. Magicals of all stripes, in every part of our world, wait to craft a harmonious solution, but you have to help humanity get on board.”
I wasn’t sure how much of this was getting past the Loboli shock. With a crash, I pounded my hand on his desk.
“Listen! We cohabitate this earth, and humans regard it as a planet sized garbage dump. Your administration started the anti-plastic policy. Implement your piece, to get this mindset of conserving, preventing pollution into the sea, and cleaning up prioritized and happening. The mer are pissed, but that’s mine to handle. Get your face in front of a bunch of cameras. Present a concrete agenda and then enforce the living crap out of the program.”
Fingers gripping my knees, I leaned back. “People will die, hell, they are dying already. One person alone can’t shift human perception. I need open minds in powerful places to help. The Canadian PM is on board.”
Herzog’s eyes widened.
“I’m asking you, since Daytona lies near the line between the worlds, to be the key player in saving everybody. Take the lead in the U.S., Herzog. You’ll be president someday.”
Okay, that’s a stretch, but I know how politicians think.
Herzog’s mouth snapped shut, but the rest of him remained frozen in shock.
Loboli, human face restored, leaned in. “This opportunity won’t come again, Mayor. If you decline, magicals will lay the ensuing dumpster fire at your feet. If we require a news story changed? A witch snaps and we have what we need. If you attack us in force, we can vanish at will. If we want money, we have it. If we decide you don’t need money or donors, that’s another snap. We are superior in all facets. Lucky for your longevity, the Keeper paved the opening for the Triune, creating a three-way path of co-existing.”
“Keeper?”
I waggled my fingers at him.
“Wait! Three? There’s something more?”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to worry. They are waiting for you to wake up and act. Action matters.” Loboli filled the room with a hackle raising snarl.
“What? How?” Herzog shook in his seat.
“Remember, you ran on a ‘clean up the beach’ initiative. Implement and enforce it, demand a moratorium on plastic on the beaches and boats, and levy hefty fines. That’s step one.” I pushed a paper across the desk that outlined his tasks. “Do these things and follow my timeline. My task involves working with the mer to accept the human efforts and stop the slicing. What happens going forward is up to you, Mayor. Take the credit, use what pans out to your advantage, but trickery won’t work. Magicals wrote that book, and you will not enjoy the results.”
“Because,” I continued, rising, “they punish. Lots of pain.”
“And blood,” Loboli scratched a single claw into the wooden desktop.
“The information you need is right here, Mayor,” I tapped the document, “and I’ll help with anything I can, but don’t ignore, sweep under the rug, or try to strong-arm our request into silence. If you plan to avoid your part of the effort, count on the retribution to be public, messy, and career ending.”
Loboli rose, leaning over the desk as he shifted, and snapped his jaws against Herzog’s ear, drawing a thin line of blood. “Pay attention.”
To the scent of crapped pants, we left.
Chapter 5
“You’re out of your element, Poseidon, although it’s always nice to see you, Asclepius. What brings you to my forest?” Gaia’s smile, beneath the bouncing curls, did not reach her eyes.
“I seek understanding, Gigi. This incitement of the mer feels strategic, but not focused. What purpose drives it?” Clep sat a sculpted butt on a fallen tree and held her gaze.
“My Earth is sick. I’m cutting out the poison.”
“We share the Earth. Why start a war that will scar and rend the creation?” Clep wagged a finger.
“You have a different agenda,” Poseidon’s tone was even, but his eyes narrowed.
“Do not start, Sea Pup, I am Primordial and you are a fuck-happy beach bum wasting my time while the world burns. If I choose to reset this planet, stay out of my way.”
“If,” Clep repeated. “You are undecided.”
“For now. I met your Keeper; she’s surprising. I doubt she can pull this off, but if she does, well, we shall see.” Gaia contracted, becoming a dragonfly and rising into the sunlight before vanishing.
Exasperation filled the clearing as Asclepius shrugged
“Clep,” Poseidon glanced at the towering god of healing, “that diatribe was 50% bullshit.”
“Gaia’s accelerated the timeline, that’s a certainty. Why, I’m unclear.”
“I will speak with the mer.” Poseidon shimmered and vanished.
From within the dense surrounding trees, Loboli padded into the clearing and sat on his haunches, eying Clep.
“Keep the forest magicals out of it, other than to aid the Keeper’s efforts. Not sure why Gaia struck out on her own, but she is powerful and a forced showdown begets questionable outcomes.”
“Agreed,” Loboli rose, setting his front paws and dropping his shoulders towards the ground. “After the full moon, we’ll talk again.” With a luxurious stretch, he shook out his coat and slipped into the trees.
I stared at the mirror in shock. My hair, long and sandy blond, was now black and curled in tight ringlets. Pulling one straight, it stretched to my waist.
Dammit, Waldo!
I looked at the vial of serum, still in a state of disbelief. How could he? Is it permanent? The police appreciation event happens in five days, my chance to create a spark with Ballard. And although cool and sexy, ebony curls are not my beach look. If I knew which tree that little wizard shit was hiding under, I’d kick gator tail and drag him forth myself.
Chelsea! Maybe she’ll help. Feet pounding in a Hades-bent scramble through the condo, I palmed the hidden space where the journal lived and pulled out a bell, ringing it three times.
Pop
“Hahahahaha!”
“Are you recovered? Can you fix it?”
“This? A wizard potion you chose to apply?” Chelsea’s eyes, blue with merriment, crinkled at the corners. “No.”
“What! Oh the gods, Chelsea, please help!”
“Impossible. It requires an antidote supplied by the wizard who concocted it. While I suspect Waldo intends to bring it in two weeks when he returns, you’re stuck until then.”
“I can’t wait that long! Ballard will be at the appreciation event and I need my hair!”
Chelsea eyed me, gears turning. “I’ve got an idea.” As her hand closed on my curls, she snapped.
I dropped to my knees in the muck and ralphed, registering the knobby eyes rising out the water ten feet from my hands.
I’m swamped with vertigo in a swamp with a swamp-monster! Holy crap.
“Why didn’t you let me grab my anti-vertigo potion,” I heaved, palms making sucking noises as I struggled to de-squelch from the goo. “You know humans can’t handle magical movement in space or time. And that gator is not leaving!”
“Pish,” Chelsea replied, selecting a stone and throwing it at a tree with a cracking sound. A section of the bark shimmered, and a tiny doorway appeared.
Chelsea made a complicated hand wave, and the door grew larger. No, wait, that wasn’t it. We shrunk. The gator moved with a fast flick of his tail. Chelsea grabbed me by the hair, yanked me toward the opening, and we entered as the beast’s belly slid up the bank, covering my hand prints.
“Darlings! I never get visitors, how lovely to look at you both.” Waldo’s eyes took in my unexpe
cted hairdo and his tiny body shook with laughter. “Ah, it’s becoming clearer. Wine?”
“I’d love a glass,” Chelsea responded. “Half glass for the Keeper, or I’ll have to carry her home.”
Magical wine was not human friendly, with effects akin to slugging a fat glass of moonshine. Chelsea got no argument from me. I had a bar to run tonight, plus managing the human side.
“Half is perfect, Waldo. Thank you.” The receding vertigo left my voice sounding closer to normal. Small favors.
“How goes forest life?”
Chelsea’s tone was amiable, but I shot her a side-eye.
“Oh, it’s quiet here, although I’ve seen Gaia twice. Unusual,” Waldo answered, sipping. “She doesn’t remain in one place long. She mentioned she’s planning to hang around for a while.”
“Oh?” Chelsea sipped as my eyes darted from face to face, getting an inkling.
“Guru might know,” I ventured, and Chelsea returned the side-eye favor.
“Could be an interesting conversation. Waldo, we can’t stay. Is there an antidote for her predicament?”
It was possible he’d not prepared the antidote, in which case I was screwed. But Waldo giggled and reached into his waist sack.
“Here, dear. Three drops, anywhere on your hair, will do it.”
I gripped the vial and tucked it into my shorts pocket with care.
“Thank you, Waldo.”
Chelsea rose, heading to the door, as Waldo leaned in toward me, his voice low.
“Don’t toss that serum away, dearest. It may come in handy. Just a hunch.”
His earnest expression surprised me, and I nodded. “Okay, Waldo, I’ll hang onto it.”
“It’s progressive, you see. Every three drops initiates. If you don’t need it, you’re fine, and if you do, I hope it serves you well.”
Wait, what?
His tiny hand patted my arm as Chelsea reached for me and snapped.
On hands and knees, rocking, I flopped onto my side on the balcony floor and stared at her.
Salt Shaken Page 3
