“Oh great.” She wrinkled her nose. “You know about the Star Phase thing.”
Chapter Twenty
“If she be other than a bubble of the elements," exclaimed Copley, "I must look upon her face again.”
Nathaniel Hawthorne-“Drowne's Wooden Image”
Sullivan Pryce didn’t like holidays.
On New Years, drunken assholes hosted loud parties and he was called into to quiet them.
On Easter, he was guaranteed to spend hours looking for children who’d wandered away from the annual egg hunt in the park
On the Fourth of July, morons set off fireworks and caught palm trees on fire all over town.
On Thanksgiving, drivers dealt with nightmarish traffic by ignoring all laws of the road and then bitching at him when he wrote them massive tickets.
On Christmas, he was expected to be jolly to everyone and, since he was generally a miserable bastard, he got whined at by every cheery do-gooder in town for his lack of good will towards men.
But worst of all was Halloween. All the other holidays, he could at least go home from work and be left alone. On Halloween, people came right to his front door.
He wasn’t so far gone into his antisocial apathy that he’d refuse to give kids candy, but he was far gone enough to walk home pretty damn slowly so as to miss the rush of little princesses and ghosts and children dressed like Iron Man. Not that there was anything wrong with Iron Man, except the movie had missed some of the deeper metaphors of the comic book, but Sullivan just didn’t do well with people. He’d rather be left alone.
Especially today.
Seeing that woman had messed with his head. Even after she left with that nimrod Alder, Sullivan had been thinking of her. Being attracted to one of the Cult nuts was just a sad indication that he needed to meet someone who wasn’t a lunatic. But, he couldn’t help it. Whoever she was, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Sullivan had honest to Christ just gaped at her for the entire fifteen seconds she’d been in his office.
For her part, the woman had barely even glanced his way after she caught sight of his face. She’d overpaid for Alder’s bail and then went sweeping out again as fast as possible. Obviously. Sullivan wasn’t an idiot. No one who looked like an even more gorgeous Sophia Loren was going to be interested in him. The girl was apparently dating Alder, so her taste must run towards obnoxious, steroid riddled, asshole Cult members… without disfiguring facial scars.
But, as the woman walked away, Sullivan had had the almost overpowering urge to run after her. To careen across his desk in a mad rush for the door and somehow stop her from vanishing from his life, again.
He’d somehow stayed perfectly still, even as his brain had gone into meltdown about losing her. Of course, he’d also stopped threatening Gion with the Home Depot DVD. All of a sudden, Sullivan hadn’t been quite so desperate to get the Cult out of town. Instead, he’d just told Gion and Ty to go away and to behave for once.
Ty had looked eager to fill him in on all kinds of facts about the mysterious woman, but Sullivan didn’t want to hear them. He wasn’t a masochist. Learning more about her would just be more salt in his wound. Besides, he wasn’t giving the Cult more ammunition to use against him by showing them he was suddenly crazy-obsessed with the girl.
But, shit… He really wanted to know her name.
There was nothing on her in any of his research on the Cult. Either she was new in town or she was good at staying hidden. Sullivan kept files on every Cult member he met, grouping them according to their hair colors. That wasn’t the easiest thing to do, being colorblind, but he was working on a theory that those colors at their temples all meant something.
The different shades seemed to appear on people with different personality types. The turquoise ones were harmless and friendly… The orange ones were jackasses… The yellow ones were even bigger jackasses… The chartreuse ones liked to talk about their wacked-out religion… In all, Sullivan had over a dozen different categories containing fifty-seven various Cult members. But, the red and the periwinkle were both new colors. Why were they suddenly showing up in his town? Why were any of them? What where they up to?
Analyzing various sinister motives, Sullivan cut across the park towards his house. He lived alone in one of Mayport Beach’s arts and craft style bungalows. It was situated about two blocks from the ocean and had been entirely furnished with the stuff left over from the previous owners’ yard sale. All he wanted to do was get home, lock himself into the solitude, and brood.
A pack of miniature pirates and witches dashed by him laughing. It occurred to Sullivan that he never remembered being that happy. For so long, he’d felt weary and out of step with the…
Sullivan paused, suddenly knowing that he was being watched. He could feel eyes on him. Turning to scan around the darkened park, he spotted a figure standing about fifteen feet away, in the shadows.
It was the woman.
The one he’d been thinking about nonstop since yesterday. She was dressed in that same letterman’s style sweater, her dark hair a mass of curls, and Sullivan forgot everything he’d ever known. Every logical, rational, semi-civilized thought vanished from his mind, replaced with a rush of need and desire. Deep inside of him, something woke up and focused on her like she was the only thing in the world.
He automatically took a step closer to her.
She took a step back.
Of course she did.
Sullivan stopped and blew out a long breath.
“Teja.” She said like she expected him to know what the hell that meant.
He didn’t.
“Teja?” Sullivan repeated blankly. It was a miracle he could respond, at all. His instincts were screaming at him to close the distance between them before she disappeared, again. It took everything in him to stay still and not scare her away. The woman already looked like she’d rather be sitting in the electric chair than talking to him.
“My name is Teja.”
“Oh.” He’d never heard of that name before. It was beautiful. Damn it. “I’m Sullivan Pryce.”
“I know exactly who you are.” And she didn’t seem pleased about it. “Look it’s not a good idea for us to be… interacting.”
“Then why are you following me?”
She frowned at him like he was somehow to blame. “I’m watching out for you. What choice do I have? Do you walk home alone every night?”
“Yeah.” He allowed slowly, looking for some hidden threat in that question.
She didn’t like that answer. “Has it occurred to you that that’s a pretty stupid thing to do, given how valuable you are?”
“Valuable?”
“Yeah. You must have noticed all the determined and sometimes insane people trying to claim you. What if they get tired of you playing hard-to-get and just jump you someplace until you give in?”
“You mean the stalkers?” Women from the Cult sometimes followed him, but he doubted any of them were rapists. “I don’t think they’re going to jump me. And even if they did, I’m a police officer. I can handle myself.”
“See, that’s another bad idea.”
“Being a cop?” The woman was so stunning he would’ve talked to her about anything, but it was hard to keep up. She wasn’t coming even one stop closer to him than she had to in order to be heard, but he swore he could feel an almost magnetic draw to her.
Teja crossed her arms over her chest. “Why are you a law keeper? Law keepers can be hurt at any time. Why can’t you do something safer? You could be a kindergarten teacher or a ballet dancer or a cowboy…”
“A cowboy?” Sullivan repeated, mystified by the list of career options she laid out and picturing himself teaching kids in a ten gallon hat and tutu.
“Just pick some other human job. Or don’t pick any job and just go quietly live somewhere far away. Somewhere with very low crime rates. I looked it up and Yemen has barely any murders at all.”
“Where the hell is Yemen?”
<
br /> “Does it matter? It would be so much safer for you. Living in this town is just asking for trouble.”
“Yeah… Interesting points, but I don’t think it’s such a great idea for me to become a Yemenite cowboy.” It was kind of pitiful how entertaining he found this conversation, though. “How much would that even pay?”
She made a frustrated sound like he was just being difficult. “I swear to Gaia, it’s as if you want to die. Do you really not see how fragile human life is?”
“Are you –like-- warning me that I’m in danger here?”
“Yes!” Teja nodded like he was finally getting you. “You’re in very grave danger every day you behave so recklessly.”
“Is the Cult targeting me?” That was actually good news. It showed that he was getting somewhere in his investigation. Maybe that DVD had really spooked them.
“What Cult?”
Sullivan gestured to the unbelievably attractive periwinkle streak in her hair. “Your Cult. The Cult of time traveling mutants, according to your friends.”
“Fire Phases don’t have friends.” She said the word like it meant lice. “You mean Ty? Wait, Ty told you we were time traveling mutants?” Teja shook her head in aggravation. “Fucking Water House.”
“It wasn’t just her. Your boyfriend was there, too, and he wasn’t exactly denying that he was secretly Professor X.”
She regarded him blankly.
“Your boyfriend? Alder? Dark hair. Swears a lot. Just waiting to be cast on a reality show about ex-convicts from Jersey.”
“Alder’s not my boyfriend. He’s my nephew. My cousin’s son.”
Sullivan squinted. Alder had to be in his late twenties, just like Teja. How did that work? “Your cousin is older than you, then?”
“By about three weeks.” Teja ran a hand through her hair. “Alright, let’s just concentrate on security issues. I don’t want you getting yourself killed, while I figure this out.”
“You think the Cult is going to try and kill me? Are you willing to testify to some threats they’ve made?”
“None of us are going to kill you. I told you, you’re too valuable. But all kinds of shit could happen to your frail human body. Disease, drive-by shootings, wolves…”
“Wolves?”
“Wolves kill humans all the time.”
“Not in Florida they don’t.”
“The point is, I need to decide what I’m going to do about you. I’m hoping that something will happen and this will just go away.” She waved a hand between them and Sullivan had the brief, impossible thought that she felt the inexplicable connection, too. “But in the meantime, I have a responsibility to keep you safe.”
“Well, I appreciate that.” It was sad how deeply she was trapped in the Cult’s lunacy. It was even sadder how much he wanted her anyway. “Tell me, would you be willing to submit to a drug test?”
She glowered at him. “I know a hell of a lot about defensive measures and this is pretty standard stuff: You should not be a law keeper. You should have a guard walking you home at night. You should be away from this town and all the freaks that show up here from various realms.”
Sullivan shook his head as she ticked off the suggestions on her fingers. So beautiful and so crazy. It broke his heart. “Teja, there’s so much more you could be doing with your life than hallucinogenics. I can get you help someplace that’ll let you break free of the Cult’s deluded fantasy world.”
“I’m not high! Those are all perfectly reasonable precautions. I know more about this than you do, so you should just listen to me and move to Yemen. If you…”
A sudden surge of power interrupted whatever she planned to say next.
The street lights surrounding the park flickered and the closest ones blew-out in showers of sparks. The hair on Sullivan’s arms stood up, partly from the electrical charge in the air and partly from the eerie feeling that they suddenly weren’t alone anymore.
He spared Teja a quick glance, checking to ensure she was safe, even as he pulled his gun free. “Something weird is happening. You should get out of here…”
He never got the rest of the words out. A Cult member, dressed in military fatigues and no shirt, was just suddenly there. Just suddenly right there in front of him.
He just… appeared.
Even after that video of the Home Depot Sullivan had never actually believed that something like that was possible. He wasn’t a man who believed in mystical powers, or God, or anything supernatural. He was a cop. Not just by vocation, it was part of his very DNA. He would have been a cop, even if he’d never worn a policeman’s uniform a day in his life. Sullivan believed real, solid evidence that he could see --live and in person-- with his own two eyes. In fact, even viewing this madness firsthand, he actually couldn’t process it.
What the fuck was going on?
Teja was astonished, too, but for a different reason. “Lycus?” She looked him up and down. “Aren’t you supposed to dead?”
“Many times over.” Lycus glanced at Sullivan, his eyes flicking to the gun, and then back to Teja. There looked to be a giant hand-shaped bruise around his neck. “This human is your Match?”
“No. Well, probably not. It’s probably just a mix-up with our energy.” She sighed. “What are you doing here?”
“Searching you out. We must discuss Hope.”
“You know where she is?”
“Yes. She’s been kidnapped by a monster.”
Teja rolled her eyes. “Is that all? Shit, I was actually getting worried about her, too.” She shook her head. “Alright. Let’s go find the rest of my idiot family and you can tell us the whole story. Sullivan,” she pointed a finger at him, “go home, for now. But you and I aren’t done discussing this.”
Then she vanished.
Just… disappeared into nothing right in front of him.
Lycus met Sullivan’s stunned eyes. “You have my sympathies, human. A woman like that will be difficult to claim.”
And with that he was gone, too. Leaving Sullivan standing in the park, surrounded by broken glass from the street lights and the distant voices of trick-or-treaters singing Monster Mash. For one small moment, Sullivan was eleven years old, again. Reading Marvel comics with a flashlight under his family’s mobile home, hiding from his father and wishing magic was real.
“Holy shit.”
The Cult members were mutants. How could it possibly be possible?
And what the hell was he going to do about it?
Chapter Twenty-One
Man is a microcosm, or a little world, because he is an extract from all
the stars and planets of the whole firmament, from the earth and the
elements
Philipus Aureolus Paracelsus
Kingu’s jaw dropped. “You know you’re from the Star House?”
“Well, I know my mother was probably a Star Phase.” Hope settled deeper into his lap. “How could I miss it? I’ve collapsed buildings just by walking past them.”
Kingu looked stunned. “But, you never said anything…”
“Well, I told you I was adopted. I didn’t really think about mentioning the Star Phase thing.” Hope hesitated. “My family’s kind of kept that hidden. Some people might want to quest after me or something, thinking I’m especially special, so we never tell anyone. Obviously, I would’ve told you, if I’d thought of it, though. Sorry.”
She was keeping way more important things from him, but now probably wasn’t the best time to bring up that her adopted House consistently made the realm’s most wanted list.
“Hope, you are especially special. The books say that seemingly bad luck is a sign of a Star Phase of great power. No one seems to have worse luck than you, so it’s possible you are one of the most powerful members of that House.”
“That really doesn’t make me any less jinxed in my day-to-day life.” Hope made a face. Why was he so stuck on this? She hated dwelling on the fact that she wasn’t a biological Fire Phase. “Besides, I�
��ve never been able to do anything with my powers. They create chaos all around me, but I can’t –like-- harness them to win the lottery or anything. I know. I’ve tried. My energy is useless unless you want to see pipes burst or have wasps attack you in the shower.”
Kingu looked strangely amused by her grumbling. “I often have similar thoughts about my own powers.”
“You?” Hope scoffed.
“Me. I can’t do anything except manifest simple three-dimensional objects and the occasional unicorn. Even then it requires too much energy. It will take time for me to regain all my strength.”
Hope blinked at that. Not at the fact that even his amazing powers had limits, but that he’d shared the limits with her. Warriors didn’t discuss their weaknesses unless they had a massive amount of trust in the person they were sharing with.
It was humbling. Had this man ever trusted anyone before? She kind of doubted it.
“You’re still young.” Kingu brushed a hesitant hand over her hair, his mouth curving when she didn’t pull away. “Your powers will fully manifest, too. Then, you’ll see how extraordinary you are. How rare.”
She leaned into his touch. “You think I’m extraordinary and rare because I’m a Star Phase?”
“No. Because you are Hope.”
Her heart melted. “Good. Because, I’m not really a Star Phase. It’s not who I was raised to be and I don’t feel any connection to that House. I have a real family and they’re who I am.”
Kingu didn’t look convinced. “There’s more, you know. Sometimes a Star Phase is sent as a blessing for a man who’s endured much to deserve her.”
Hope’s eyebrows soared. “And it didn’t even occur to you that you are that man? Monster, you spent thousands of years as a slave. Isn’t that suffering?”
“Not enough suffering to deserve you.” He said simply.
…And Hope was lost.
She stared up at him in helpless love. Every last bit of her belonged to this man. How did he not see that? How could he not understand they were destiny? It wasn’t that he was ignoring her assurances. It was like he wasn’t hearing them all, at all. Like he was incapable of processing her words.
Treasure of the Fire Kingdom (The Elemental Phases Book 4) Page 29
