Charge: A Motorcycle Club, Shifter, Romance (Shifting Steel Book 2)

by Stephanie West

  “Don’t remove the plug mija.” Abuela warned as the gravel crunched beneath her feet. “The two you are holding contain Frost and Drought. The ones I have are Rain and Disease.”

  Abuela was completely serious as she said this. Marisol looked at the odd markings on the pottery. The designs reminded her of what she’d seen on the old Aztec ruins. Both jars held pictures of different gods incised in the clay.

  “I never told you much about our ancestors. You know this mountain is named after the God of Rain, Tlaloc.” Marisol nodded to her Abuela. “Well he is also our ancestor.”

  Marisol had a feeling that Abuela meant this more literally than the collective belief that many of the native people held.

  “Why do you think you are the way you are. You mija have the gift of harnessing lightning.”

  Marisol stood dumbfounded in the path.

  “You mean it don’t you!” She asked incredulously.

  “Of course come on child.”

  Her grandmother was in good shape as they hiked the steep path, no doubt coming up to the summit often. They broke through the tree line and continued up towards the ruin in the distance. Marisol had only been allowed to come here a few times before.

  Marisol stood up straight taking a deep breath of the crisp air as she looked around. There were wispy clouds hovering over the valley and mountain peaks but besides that the sky was clear and blue despite the recent storm.

  She and her grandmother continued walking till they reached the remnants of a stone wall and steps. The area was devoid of anyone or anything modern. Abuela mounted the ruin steps and Marisol followed her up to a dilapidated courtyard. Abuela set her two jars down and then Marisol’s, arranging them in the four cardinal directions. The old woman then bid her to sit down, but Marisol helped her grandmother down to the ground first. They sat for a bit staring east into the serene vista.

  “The vessel with Rain goes in the East and so on.” Abuela pointed to the jars. ” I usually pray to our grandfather facing East, facing the benevolent rain, although today I considered praying to the West, so grandfather Tlaloc would know I bring unhappy news.” But nevertheless they faced East.

  Marisol understood Abuela was upset like she was. Yet her grandmother was trying to put on a good face for Marisol’s benefit. There was merit in it. Bad things had happened and her father had passed but Marisol had also met Trip. Perhaps her life had come to a new and more promising chapter. That in and of itself was worth looking towards the dawn.

  “Grandfather” Abuela’s voice rose up. “Your grandson, my son has been killed. I’m sure that you have found his spirit already and hold him close.” Abuela closed her eyes in prayer. “Son, your mother and daughter love and miss you.”

  Marisol bowed her head in a moment of silence and spoke to her father. This was the only funeral that her papa would receive since his body had been consumed in flames, desecrated by the cartel.

  “The same group of men took your granddaughter, my granddaughter. They abused her. But your gift saved her. Thank you father.”

  Marisol watched as tears spilled over her Abuela’s cheeks. It was a rare occurrence to see and it became too overwhelming to hold her own emotions in check.

  “A warrior, a black jaguar, one of Xbalanque’s children saved her. But now he may be in need, so we ask for your assistance against these murderers.” Her grandmother’s voice rang out strong to the heavens.

  The wind picked up its pace seemingly in response to her Abuela’s plea. Marisol and her grandmother sat quietly watching as dark storm clouds moved in. Sheets of rain fell on the mountain side yet amazingly none landed on them.

  Abuela reached out and picked up the first jar to the South, Disease. Abuela pulled the cork and drank deeply then handed it to Marisol.

  “Drink the rest. Do not spill a drop.” Her grandmother commanded with a serious countenance.

  Marisol carefully tipped the vessel back and drained it of its contents. It did not taste like stale water, it was clean but had a mildly acrid taste.

  “Should a drop fall a plague would attack the crops and man.” Abuela said as Marisol handed it back to her.

  Marisol’s hand suddenly faltered as she handed it off. She let out a rough sigh when her grandmother held the jar glad that she hadn’t spilled any. Everything she had experienced thus far told her that her Abuela very likely spoke the truth. Her grandmother’s assertion that she was the caretaker of Tlaloc wasn’t so hard to believe anymore.

  “No one can touch this water but us.” Abuela said. “The jar is now empty so have no fear of it. It is only a pretty jar now.”

  The solemn process continued. The jar from the West, Drought, was again clean water, but it was dry, like really hard water often tasted. The two woman washed it down with the jug from the North, Frost, which was unusually cold considering the near hot temperature outside. It made Marisol shiver, more from the strange implication than actual chill. Finally refreshing Rain from the East was emptied.

  “Now mija we are the vessels. The four directions equally matched brought together as one.” The old woman explained.

  No sooner had they finished the odd ritual than Marisol felt overcome with an intense electric surge.

  Lightning struck on the mountain not far from where they sat charging the air. Thunder boomed deafening and the jars shattered around them.

  Marisol sat wide eyed but Abuela was calm as the natural landscape around them came alive. Abuela gripped Marisol’s hand to comfort her as the invigorating charge enveloped them making Marisol’s hair stand on end. Marisol could feel the galvanizing sensation in every cell of her being from the tip of her toes to the top of her head.

  Marisol looked over at her grandmother in amazement and a new found respect. All this went way beyond traditional religion and myth. It somehow went beyond even her strange gift which up to now had seemed like a mutation rather than a trait handed down by the old gods. Marisol suddenly felt disappointed that her parents had sheltered her from this, her birthright.

  “Now child show Tlaloc what his granddaughter can do.” Abuela commanded.

  Marisol turned uncertain eyes from the sight of nature unrestrained to her grandmother.

  “What do you mean?”

  Marisol felt her gift pushing at her urging to break free, but there was nothing around them to act upon, no technology to destroy or make chirp and sing in demonstration.

  “I have always been good at calling the rain. But you, you are good with lightening.”

  Abuela pointed to the sky where the storm cloud had rolled in. She waived it in and amazingly the cloud along with its curtain of falling water followed Abuela’s gesture. The tempest pelted the mountain summit but halted its approach a hundred yards off as Abuela held out her palm to stop it.

  “Now mija use the gift granted to you by Tlaloc.”

  Her grandmother wanted her to call the electricity. Marisol looked inward. The part of herself that felt and played with her gift was strumming and alive. It crackled with excitement begging to be unleashed.

  Was it possible that she could reach out and command the lightning?

  Marisol looked to a spot at the edge of the clearing on the mountain peak. She stretched her hand out and willed the lightning to do her bidding.

  When a powerful arc split the sky, the earth shook. Runners of electricity sparked across the ground where the bolt struck. Their bright white spidery tendrils danced before fading.

  The wind whipped up her hair and Marisol grinned into the storm. She pointed her finger and watched the lightning skitter across the horizon illuminating the darkened sky. She was giddy and amazed as she looked to Abuela to see her smiling back.

  “Very good.” Abuela said with a toothy grin. “Now call it to you.”

  Marisol’s eyes widened. It was one thing to make the lightening dance but another to call it to you. She was no fool, she knew what being struck by such a powerful force did to a person.

  “Like this mija
.” Abuela smiled encouragingly as held out her palm.

  A powerful bolt parted the clouds and zeroed in on her grandmother. It struck the center of her elderly palm then concentrated folding in on itself to form a bright white sparking orb.

  Marisol gasped as her grandmother rolled the balled lighting around and over her fingers. Watching the old woman toy with it Marisol overcame her trepidation and found herself reaching out for charged sphere.

  The lightning immediately jumped to her hand like it was coming home. The feeling of it on her skin was unlike anything she had ever known, surpassing even her gift as she’d known it.

  Marisol willed the ball to shrink and then grow as she became comfortable with it. She let it flow up her arm and then down the other before tossing it back to her other hand. Soon she was tossing the lightning in the air giggling as she played the odd game of catch.

  “If you are done playing we should get back mija.” Abuela grinned.

  Abuela tucked an arm around Marisol and they headed back down the mountain, the worst of the storm parting as they passed. Marisol felt closer to her grandmother in a way that she had always dreamt of.

  When they reached the tiny community Abuela kept on walking past her house.

  “Abuela where are you going?”

  “Your Jaguar has not come so we go to find him.”

  Marisol thought to protest bringing her elderly grandmother into such danger, but it died on her lips. The two of them were a force to be reckoned with and she felt all the more confident with her Abuela at her side. Marisol gave her grandmother a grim smile.

  “So we’re off to rescue Trip.”

  Wolf

  “There’s Trip’s truck.” Wolf pointed through the SUV’s window. This wasn’t the location outside of Mexico City Cain had directed them to, but its where the tracker in Trip’s truck had led them after coming back online.

  “Who’s the broad and grandma?” MD voiced out loud.

  “You think they stole his truck?” Swain questioned.

  “Doubtful. Cain said Trip hooked up with a woman while he was here.” Wolf grinned.

  “Follow them and see if we can’t find our wayward sheep.” MD said even though Wolf was doing just that.

  They had been lucky to track the vehicle coming down out of the mountains before it made it onto the highway. Hopefully it would lead them to Trip. The three men followed the old Dodge at a decent distance. Eventually they reached the town to the East of Mexico City Trip had reported was the cartel’s home base.

  “Are those women seriously driving into the belly of the beast.” MD, the Reapers’ medic, asked incredulously.

  “You don’t think they’re part of Los Zetas do you?” Swain asked as the truck in front of them turned onto a long road leading to the private compound they suspected belonged to the cartel.

  “No I don’t think so. Cain said Trip rescued the woman.” Wolf said from the driver’s seat.

  “Well he’s not with them, so something’s happened.” MD replied.

  The trio put on their game faces as they drove past the road leading to the compound. They watched the truck brakes light up as the two woman parked the Dodge not far from the cartel’s main gate.

  Wolf, Swain and MD ditched their SUV further up the road and circled around on foot in time to see the young and old woman approach the barbwire gate of the large hacienda.

  “Those woman are going to get themselves killed.” MD groused. He hadn’t planned on patching up this many people.

  Wolf looked out at the landscape. The sun was starting to set throwing brilliant reds and oranges across the sky. The weather here was amazing. First the magnificent storm of earlier and now this.

  Unfortunately he wasn’t here to sight see, there was a brother that needed a helping hand. Wolf sniffed the air catching a hint of Trip’s scent coming from two directions. He assumed Trip was somewhere in the cartel’s compound. But a hint of Trip’s scent drifted from the young female nearing the compound gate.

  Wolf grinned. Trip had been doing a little more than recon while he was here. Trip was going to be pissed if his new little friend got herself killed.

  Before they could reach the two woman there was a flurry of activity at the gate. Wolf watched what happened next in awe.

  7 Retribution

  Marisol

  “I have come for the man you are holding.” Marisol yelled as she approached the opening gate guarded by armed men.

  She sent out a pulse of power that killed their phones and radios. The men knew who she was and started to raise their weapons.

  “Watch and learn mija.” Her grandmother said.

  Out of nowhere a storm whipped up pelting the men with a whirlwind of sand devils and stinging rain. Their cries of shock and dismay were drowned out by the thunderous noise.

  Marisol almost giggled with maniacal glee. She held out her hand and sent a crash of lightning that landed at the guards feet.

  “I can’t let you have all the fun!” She shouted to her Abuela.

  The old woman nodded.

  The men took off at a run and Marisol sent electric runners along the ground to assure they kept going till they were long gone. It appeared that the men weren’t quite so loyal to the cartel when faced with the wrath of the gods

  Trip

  The fist struck Trip’s jaw again throwing his head to the left. Trip tasted blood in his mouth but it was nothing new. They’d been at this game off and on for the last hour at least.

  He’d been biding his time for the right moment but one too many men armed with guns were present. Trip was good but a well placed bullet would stop even him. Eventually the guards would slip up or tire of this. When they did it would be over for these foolish bastards. Trip eyed the men gathered round him debating who would die first and how. He would make quick work of them then seek out El Patron. That bastard wouldn’t see dawn.

  The storm was raging again outside. The lightning that lit up the dim sky looked close. The rush of blood roared in Trip’s ears louder than the thunder outside as he was struck again. He’d been knocked in his head more than he cared and it pounded annoyingly. The lights flickered in the room then went out, but Trip could still see with his heightened sight.

  The warehouse door swung open exposing a swath of the flashing stormy sky. There stood the silhouette of an angel. A ball of lightning crackled in her palm. Marisol tossed the sparking orb between her hands deadly intent alight in her eyes.

  “Holy shit!”

  Marisol was super charged and she was super pissed. Trip was concerned and impressed all in the same breath. What had happened to her, and how had she discovered this new skill?

  “I have returned and I’m not pleased.” Marisol snarled at the five guards who stood in shock.

  “Hot damn she’s sexy.” Trip grinned

  An old woman stepped up beside her. That must be her grandmother. Trip noted the resemblance.

  “Let me show you our other gifts mija.”

  The old woman cast her hand out at the three guards before they had chance to recover their wits and raise their guns. Trip watched stunned as before his very eyes the guards dropped to their knees.

  One man’s skin became taught, his cheeks sinking inward as he dried to an emaciated husk. Another sprouted blotches that erupted as giant sores while he writhed in pain. The third’s mouth froze on a scream, his skin frosting over.

  Marisol tossed the orb of lightning at another man that came running up, searing the flesh from his bones. The disturbing smell of barbecue and a blood curdling scream filled the warehouse as the man collapsed.

  The final guard spun around behind Trip holding a knife to his neck.

  “Well if this is my rescue party who am I to wait to be invited to join in the fun.” Trip decided.

  In the blink of an eye Trip tore his ropes, reached up with one clawed hand and severed the tendons in the arm of the man holding him hostage.

  The man screamed as he dropped the knife
from his limp useless hand. Trip spun from the chair and tore his neck out, jumping away to avoid the spray of blood.

  An instant later Marisol threw herself into Trip’s arms and kissed his swollen lips till he groaned in pleasure and pain.

  “Oh I’m sorry.” She pulled back gently cupping his cheeks to examine his bruised face.

  “It will pass.” He grimaced instead of the smile he intended.

  “Hello Jaguar.” The old woman, Marisol’s grandmother said.

  Trip nodded hello then frowned as he realized he was partially covered in blood.

  Three men ran through the warehouse door, and both woman spun with their hands positioned to do battle.

  “Wait!” Trip hollered as he recognized his brothers from the club, Swain, MD and Wolf. “Those are my friends.”

  The two woman relaxed and Trip breathed a sigh of relief. The women were hell on wheels and more than a bit frightening.

  His brothers backed up a bit seeing what had become of the other men and realizing they narrowly missed being next.

  “Looks like we’re too late for the party.” Swain commented as MD knelt down to examine the dead guards.

  “Don’t touch them son.” Marisol’s grandma told MD.

  He immediately pulled back his hand.

  “Their bodies must be burned.” The old woman informed them.

  Trip nodded as he pulled Marisol to his side. The women must wield some major mojo if the bodies had to be incinerated. Regardless Trip was content to hold Marisol. She didn’t frighten him.

  “Hey who let you off your leash.” Trip smacked Wolf on his back.

  “I heard there was a little pussy that needed rescuing.” Wolf grinned back.

  “Wolf, Swain, MD this is Marisol.” Trip introduced her.

  Marisol held out her hand in greeting.

  His brothers looked hesitant but shook it. Trip understood their reservation, his sweet Marisol had just lit some mother fuckers up! If she weren’t on his side he’d probably have hesitated too.

  “This is my Abuela.” Marisol introduced the old woman who nodded at them in greeting.