Days of Innocence

by C. L. Quinn

  “Rough, but it will do.” Jessie looked around the big space with metal walls and a concrete floor.

  “Beats the rain forest floor for a mattress,” Sally responded as she looked up at the man who’d intercepted them and brought them into the nearly hidden warehouse.

  “You aren’t wrong.” Jackson left his pack on a bench near the doorway. “Thanks, Paul. Is my uncle coming to greet us?”

  “Shortly, I’m sure. For now, are you hungry? Thirsty?”

  Jackson looked at his small crew. Everyone was whipped. “We’ve been flying all day. Yeah, that sounds good. Where can we put our stuff?”

  “Follow me, please. The accommodations are basic. A cot, a roof, that’s it. I think we have a few blankets.”

  “Spiffy!”

  “Jess, we’re not here to sleep. Put a pin in it. But we are here for beer. You got some, right?” Taylor coughed dramatically when Paul looked up, startled, at Jackson, then answered Taylor’s query.

  “We don’t keep alcohol at camp. It messes up way too many guys. Plus, Jackson, you remember your uncle has a problem with it.”

  Taylor dropped his pack and crossed his arms. “Wait, what? Dude, you knew about this?”

  Jackson shrugged. “We’re gonna be working, anyway, bro’. Stay with me, you’ll get through this. I’ll buy you a year’s supply when we get stateside.”

  With a great sigh, Taylor bent to pick his pack up.

  “Wicked mean buddy. False pretenses. But I’m holdin’ ya to that mega supply.”

  “Good. Okay, Paul, where do we bunk?”

  Fifteen minutes later, Paul led them to a bare bones lunch room. It held two refrigerators and three round metal tables circled by flimsy-looking chairs.

  “There are sodas and sandwich meats, condiments, and some basics in the fridge. Bread and cereals on the counter. Plenty of fresh water. Help yourselves.”

  “Thanks, Paul.” Jackson was the first to open the refrigerator door and look inside.

  “So, what are all you young folks doing here in the ass end of nowhere?”

  “Mission.” Jackson selected some ham slices and provolone cheese. The others moved in to do the same.

  As he placed the meat and cheese on a slice of bread, he found a packet of mayonnaise. “Sweet.” Looking up at Paul, he took a bite of the sandwich and selected a can of cola. “We’re on a mission to find a local folklore. Shapeshifters.”

  Paul crossed his arms, now very interested in what Jackson had to say. “Shapeshifters? You’re looking for fictional movie characters?”

  “We hope not.”

  “Jackson thinks that they’re real. He thinks that if we stick around and keep an eye out, we’ll learn the truth. Do you have any onions or jalapenos?” Sally spread some mustard on her sandwich.

  Without looking at her, Paul shook his head. “No. So, Jackson, where do you plan to look for these ghosts?”

  “I have documentation on three local villages where residents have claimed to have known some of these creatures. First, we’re going to interview them. I just have a weird vibe, Paul. I’m going to find these mythical supernatural people.”

  Hmm, thought Paul. Like uncle, like nephew. A whole lot of crazy ran in that Hollinger family. “Interesting. Does your uncle know of your mission?”

  “No. He’s not interested in my nutty ramblings, although he’ll be the first one to pat me on the back if I find them.”

  “We. If we find them.” Jessie lifted her head long enough to stake her claim. “The rest of us didn’t come down here so that you get all the glory. It’s a team effort.”

  Someone clearing his throat filled the awkward silence. Paul waved at them as he headed to the door.

  “So, I’ll let you all get back to it. Have a good lunch. I’m sure Isiah will check in with you soon.”

  Once past the lunch room, he cursed. “Fuck! So Isiah’s nephew is searching for the very thing that we think we have trapped in those godawful cages! Like this doesn’t have the makings of the biggest FUBAR in history!”

  Lifting his cell phone from his pocket, he punched in Isiah.

  “Yeah?” came from the other end, impatient as usual.

  “Isiah, do you know what your nephew and his little search party are looking for?”

  “I don’t know. A good fuck?”

  “More than that. How about a good South American legend?”

  “Like what?”

  “I’m going to give you a moment on that one.”

  Silence filled the next minute before Paul smiled when he heard Isiah’s next words.”

  “Ah, fuck.”

  “Bingo. You might want to see to that.”

  After killing several sandwiches, Dean kept the same distance he’d kept since this whole weird-ass trip began. He had stayed busy on the plane so that no one would engage him in petty conversation. He knew how to get along with people, but it wasn’t something he liked and it wasn’t something he did well. As soon as he had the business up and running, he’d look for an intelligent, sunny-dispositioned woman to run his office.

  Through the flight, and now in this nasty little hastily-fashioned dining room, he found his eyes moving to the effervescent Sally. Like that, he thought. Someone like her.

  But not her, he corrected quickly. A nice young woman who wouldn’t tempt him. Sex for him was quick, aggressive, and a singular event with any woman. Even with his healthy libido, he didn’t have any interest in a committed relationship. His father had always had a revolving door of women, and of late, so had he. For now, that suited him. God knows he was emotionally equipped just for that type of intimacy.

  A good fuck and a quick goodbye summed up his romantic relationships. He wondered if Facebook had a status button for that.

  But the pretty, capable, obviously brilliant Sally, she wasn’t for him. So hands off.

  “Jax, you don’t need me right now, do you?”

  “Nah. I’m going to look for my uncle.”

  “Good. I’m hitting my bunk. Need the sleep. Wake me when you’re ready to go.”

  Jackson watched Dean disappear through the door, then turned his attention on the others. “Sorry, guys, I know I sounded arrogant. I do understand that we’re a team, and I promise you that if we find anything, all of us stand up and take credit. And if we find what we’re looking for, we can write our own tickets for the future. Dean’s got the right idea, though, for now. Why don’t you get some rest and I’ll wake you when we’re ready to move out.”

  Taylor stood. “Might as well, since this is a dry warehouse.” He was still pissed. And thirsty.

  Jessie took his hand. “Come on, let’s see what O’Connor is up to. Sally, you coming?”

  “Sure. Jackson, you need to join us. We’ll likely start out at first light once we have a better idea of the landscape. From what I can see on my phone, the first village is about a day’s hike.”

  “Yeah, I will, give me a few minutes.”

  Standing, Sally followed Jessie and Taylor around the corner.

  Hesitating as he looked around the room, Jackson grabbed an orange soda and left the room, turning away from the rest of his group. He was pissed. Uncle Isiah should have been there to greet them. So much for close family ties. What was so important he couldn’t take a few moments to greet his only nephew?

  He was going to find out.

  FIVE

  It had been ridiculously easy for Rodney and his men to catch up with the too-slow, too-loud, group of ten young human men and women, and three Totems. He’d been trying to decide whether to hang back and remain the unseen protector as he always had or let them know that he was here and join their group.

  The decision was taken from his hands about an hour into the trek when the group stopped so abruptly, the three Totems taking up the rear bumped into each other. The group parted into an irregular line as everyone turned to stare behind.

  “You might as well join us, Rodney,” Cairine called out. “We all know that you are here
.”

  This he should have known. Motioning for Ben to follow him, he stepped forward past the Totems and moved up to face the first blood children.

  “My grandfather couldn’t stand it, could he?”

  “No, Cari, he couldn’t. And I agree with him. You are all special and powerful, but this is your first trip away from secure and familiar homes. It’s just better that I and my men are here in case you need me. Us.”

  He felt Shani’s gaze on him, and as hard as he tried, his own moved briefly to hers. Swaddled in a strange little jacket, an oversized pack on her small back, he thought she looked beautiful. And that was not his assessment to make. Moving his eyes from her, he was drawn to a stunningly lovely girl with dark eyes and pale brown hair drawn back into a long ponytail. He did not know her, but he did know that she wasn’t Totem, and that he felt the same power wrapped around her that he did with these ten children he’d watched for decades. There was only one person she could be. He stepped up to her and bowed.

  “Miss Crezia, it is wonderful to finally meet you. You’ve been a missing piece of our puzzle for too long.”

  Surprised, she looked around at the others, then back to this impressive man that defied description. He was human, and yet he was not. She was nothing, though, if not polite, so she cleared her throat and spoke. “Uh, yeah, hi, nice to meet you too.” After a pause, she followed up with a question. “And you are…”

  “Our protector, Zia,” Shani answered for him. “This is Rodney, and he, along with his soldiers, have been there for us since we were children. Cairine’s grandfather sent them to make sure we don’t get into trouble. Right, Rodney?”

  Granting Shani the same courtesy, Rodney bowed to her as well. “You are very right, Miss Shani.”

  Brigitte pushed up against Ben and brushed a hand along a hard bicep. “Soldiers. Real soldiers, trained in combat and the use of weapons meant for defense.” She grinned up into his stoic face, handsome but unresponsive.

  “This one is mine,” she teased. Ben did not move.

  “What we are here to do is support you. You must seek your task and pay no attention to my small band. If problems occur, or danger presents, we will step in. Otherwise, we are ghosts. I will take point up front along with Ben, and the others will protect our rear. Please, continue.”

  Eras raised both arms. “You heard the man, we’re hoofing it again.”

  They fell into an easy cadence for the next two hours, a steady advance with Ife and Talib guiding their direction. The light had fallen quickly, and just moments before it was gone, Dhole called up to the front of the line.

  “We must make camp for the night. It is too dark to continue.”

  Rodney, pissing Eras off, took charge of setting up camp, scouted for a cleared section of ground, had his men arrange for firewood, and instructed everyone in how to inflate their sleeping tubes.

  Standing to the side, Eras felt cheated. This was to be his journey, a chance for him to show how well he could manage things outside of their small protected world in Africa. This huge human was stepping on his victory.

  He was stewing quietly when Brigitte came up behind him and threw an arm over his shoulder. “Sorry, my brother, but the man is much older than we are and he knows precisely what to do. Your time will come.”

  “What? I don’t care what he does. Fuck, he can lead this entire train, rescue the brats, and go home the big hero.”

  “Ooh, you are really pissed, aren’t you? Who are you trying to impress?” Like she didn’t know…

  “Bridge, you got it wrong. I was just trying to help. With big guard dog there and his buds, I might as well go home. He’ll zip in there and take control, just like he has here.”

  “We need you, Eras, we always will. Get your tube inflated. Do you need help with it?”

  No, of course he didn’t. But after Brigitte joined the others who had placed their tubes side by side, he looked over at Bryson and Caedmon, already sitting on theirs.

  “Hey, guys, how the hell does this thing work?”

  Caedmon smiled and reached around Eras to pull a small cord near the top of the hard cylinder only 12 inches long and six inches in diameter. The gelatinous material bloomed into a puffed out tube that would protect him from the cold, wet ground and put a layer of soft fabric around him for warmth.

  Dhole walked to the center of the lounging group and handed out little squares in various colors. “These are protein cubes for anyone who is hungry tonight. This bag I carry has vials of Tassel. It will hydrate you until we can find a good water source, which my companions and I will seek at first light. Please, everyone, take as much as you like.”

  Eras grabbed a handful for himself, Caedmon, and Bryson, while Brigitte served them to the ladies on the other side of a fire built by Rodney’s men and lit by Cairine and Caedmon using their magic.

  Conversation and an impromptu song entertained them for a while, but then fatigue overcame them and, containing the fire to its bed using their talents, everyone said goodnight and scooted down into their cozy tubes.

  On the perimeter of the camp, Rodney had spread his five men and himself evenly in a circle around the travelers. Sitting on the edge of his tube, he scrolled down a map of the area he’d preloaded onto his cell. Earlier, he’d had Eras and Talib show him where they were heading, so he wanted to be fully prepared for their remaining path.

  A section of the landscape looked particularly difficult about an hour into the hike tomorrow. The grid showed a patch of nettle trees, known for sharp barbs that made it almost impossible to pass through them. Considering a detour, a snapping twig behind him drew him around, his hand on his pistol. Other than the light from his phone, it was pitch black in the forest at night.

  Her scent overtook him immediately, making his head swim, his body harden. What the hell was she doing?

  “Shani, why are you out of your tube?”

  Dropping beside him onto his tube, she clicked off the light from her own phone that she’d used to find her way.

  “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to talk to you.”

  “Talk? Why, what is it you need to express?”

  She was silent, the blackness a barrier because they couldn’t see each other at all. Her hand slid forward and landed on his knee. “Uh, I guess it’s not really words. I don’t know, Rodney, I just needed to be near you for a moment. I’m glad you’ve come.”

  That fucking word again. Rodney’s body responded even stronger, and the fact that her fingers were still on his knee and now caressing it was a very, very bad idea. He put his hand over hers to lift it, but instead curled his own fingers around hers. “You should not be here like this with me. I told you, it is inappropriate.”

  “I understand you think so.”

  “It’s just the truth. Turn that light on and get back to your sleeping tube, young woman.”

  Shani smiled, knew he couldn’t see her face beneath the total darkness of dense trees. He thought he was discouraging her, but it only made him more enticing. She couldn’t see him either but his striking image came to her in the dark, stronger than ever. His jaw, hard, square, extremely masculine. She just wanted to bite it. Those thick arms highlighted by the shirtless vest he always wore. That heavy braid? She thought that the long black hair would look amazing spread over her legs.

  God, where did that idea come from? His touch heated her body like liquid fire, moisture between her legs surprised her. He was probably right that she should just go.

  Shani slid closer, her hand searching in the darkness for his. It landed again on his leg, this time on his thigh, and she moved it higher until she felt his fingers grab hers again, this time rougher, the big fingers squeezing.

  “Stop,” he growled, low, graveled, insistent, desperate.

  She knew her fingers were inches from that area between his legs where she’d seen an enticing bulge, her need to investigate almost beyond her control.

  “You smell like…” she whispered.

/>   Suddenly he released her fingers, and without delay, she pushed them forward until they rested against the bulge. Now his hands wrapped around her face.

  “No. This isn’t happening.”

  “Rodney…”

  “Please, Shani. I’m telling you no. You have to go.”

  “I…”

  “We’ll talk at a later time. If you don’t go back to your tube, I’ll carry you there.”

  Her fingers splayed against him, pressed into the bulge and she felt it swell even more. The thought of being in his arms overwhelmed her. “Yes, I wish you would.”

  Rodney’s groan was low. “Please.” He stopped speaking, while his fingers slid along her cheekline and she felt his forehead against hers. “Go,” he whispered.

  While she knew this was torturous for him, it was equally torturous for her. He was right.

  “Okay. But this isn’t over.” Moving so close, her lips touched his cheek as she spoke again. “I know you want me. I’m empathic, remember?”

  She lifted off his bedding, gone into the darkness.

  Rodney sighed, a soul deep release of breath, thankful that they hadn’t been alone. He let his body drop onto the soft pallet. That beautiful girl needed to go home to Africa soon, or he wasn’t certain what might happen. Actually, he thought he might be, and nothing good could come of it.

  AT THE WAREHOUSE

  “Isiah, now that you know why they’re here, shouldn’t you do something?”

  Distracted, searching video footage of the children from earlier in the day, Isiah glanced up at Paul.

  “What? They’re just playing around. Must be done with classes for the season.”

  “Nope. Stop that, you need to hear me.”

  With a moan, Isiah turned to face Paul. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, frustration barely concealed.

  Paul walked right up into his face, determined to make his point. “They’re here to search for a local legend. Shapeshifting people. Sound familiar?”