by M. D. Massey
“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered, covering my eyes with my hand. I peeked out between my fingers. “Please tell me you two haven’t done it yet.”
“Why not?” they asked in unison.
“Depending on the spell or ritual they’re having you perform, you could be pledging your souls to their evil clown god, or indenturing yourselves to him in eternal service, or agreeing to be sacrificed at some future date… I mean, there’s no telling what they’re having you do.”
The boys looked at each other, then Kenny held his thumb and forefinger apart. “What if I told you we did, but only just a little?”
“Fuck my life,” I mumbled.
Bells was waiting for me in the parking lot of the junkyard when I pulled up, sitting on the metal barrier that protected the fence from our patrons’ cars.
“How’d you know I was coming?” I asked as I got out of Crowley’s car.
“Eh, the Circle called off their manhunt for you, so I assumed they got what they wanted. And whenever things go sideways you always retreat here. This place is like your fortress of solitude.”
“It hasn’t really afforded me much seclusion lately, but it is the only place I call home. Plus, working on cars helps me think.”
“I know,” she said, looking off in the distance. An awkward silence followed.
“Bells, just to be clear, I’m totally myself again. Anything I said or did over the past few weeks, it probably wasn’t me, and I am deeply sorry for it.”
She looked at me, her eyes soft but sad. “I knew that the moment you stepped out of Crowley’s deathtrap of a car. There’s not much I don’t know about you, druid boy. Just like I know you have unresolved feelings for the dryad living in your backyard.”
I glanced at the druid tree’s upper reaches, towering over the junkyard. Or, perhaps, protecting it.
“Belladonna, I honestly never expected this to happen.”
She closed her eyes, just for a moment, and when she opened them they were wet with tears. “Damn it, I didn’t want to cry.”
“Are you…” I paused for a moment, not wanting to say it. “Are you breaking up with me?”
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. I wanted to offer her a tissue or something, but all I had on me was lint and regret.
“Colin, from the day I met you I knew we were going to be close. But I also knew from the start that you were still in love with Jesse. I accepted that, and when I did, I made a decision that if we could only be friends, then that would have to be enough.”
“Bells—”
“Uh-uh, let me finish. Right now, I think you need some space to sort your feelings out, both about us and that thing in your backyard. Personally, I think she’s wrong for you, but then again she’d probably say the same thing about me—she might just be right.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re one of the most beautiful, caring, passionate people I know. I mean that.”
“Colin, just stop. You’re making this harder than it has to be.”
I stepped in and grabbed her hands. “I don’t want to lose you, Belladonna Becerra.”
“You can’t lose me, tonto. I already told you I’ll stick around, no matter what—and I’ll still be here after you hash your feelings out.”
“That’s hardly fair to you, Bells.”
She squeezed my hands and released them before taking a step back. “Regardless, until you decide how you feel about her, I think it’s best if we stayed away from each other. Now, I’m going to go before I completely lose it.”
“Bells, don’t leave. Please.” I stepped forward to embrace her, and as I did the irises and whites of her eyes flashed from their normal brown and white to an iridescent gold. Her pupils changed shape as well, becoming vertical slits in an instant.
Belladonna pushed me away with the kind of strength and explosiveness only ’thropes and vamps could muster. As I flew through the air, everything seemed to be going in slow motion. She looked at me with those golden snake eyes, tears brimming despite their strangeness. Her skin broke out in scales that flashed brightly in the sun, like diamonds catching the light. Then, she hissed, at me or perhaps out of reflex, displaying a forked tongue and a rather large set of fangs.
I thought back to the night raven’s augury.
The truth revealed in serpent’s eyes.
Time sped up again as I concluded my brief flight, crashing into Crowley’s windshield. I landed with such force that my body folded, sending me through the glass and into the front seat. By the time I extricated myself from the car, Belladonna was gone, the exhaust notes from her bike fading in the distance.
I was about to hop in the car to follow her, when a pleasant tenor voice spoke up behind me in a familiar, peculiar brogue.
“If I were you, I’d let her cool off a tad. Serpenthrope venom packs quite a wallop, plus it’ll eat holes in yer wardrobe.” He coughed softly. “Though, in this case, it’d likely be an improvement.”
I turned around, leaning my butt against the door to shut it as I crossed my arms. The fae before me looked like a teen from the fifties in his cuffed pants, polished black shoes, white t-shirt, and James Dean haircut. Yet I knew he was anything but the harmless youth he appeared.
“Click, your timing is impeccable,” I said, my voice oozing with sarcasm.
“Be that as it may—I am a chronomancer, after all—there’s a lot more at stake here than ye might be realizing. What with that stone fallin’ into the wrong hands, all fecking bets are off.”
“You’re a time mage. Can’t you just roll things back a day or so and let me fix this?” I figured it was worth a shot to ask.
Click shook his head, causing the lock of hair that fell down his forehead to swing back and forth like a windshield wiper. “Doesn’t work that way! Bah, there’s no time ta’ explain—best if I show you by taking you a wee bit down the Twisted Paths.”
The youthful-looking magician leapt forward, grabbing me by the lapels. Then, he took a step back, pulling me through what looked like a magical portal—except when we stepped through, it felt like the whole earth had moved, not us.
I blinked several times, because the landscape had utterly and completely changed. The skies were dark with soot and smoke, and the air carried the scent of cooked turkey legs, pine trees, and blood. From what I could tell, we stood in the middle of what looked to be a Renaissance Festival gone mad. There were colorful tents all around, mushroom clouds in the distance, and people dressed in medieval costumes were screaming and running to and fro in panic.
And all around us, I saw zombies. Lots and lots of zombies.
“Click, what the f—?”
He shoved me away. “I’m goin’ ta leave you here for a time, just so you can fully absorb the direness of the situation. Have fun!”
The chronomancer vanished, leaving me standing dumbfounded in a scene straight out of a Romero flick.
Fuck. My. Life.
This concludes Book 6 in the Colin McCool Paranormal Suspense Series, but the story will continue in Book 7, Druid Vengeance…
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Psst! Want to know what happens to Colin in the alternate future where Click stranded him? That story is revealed in Book 3 of my THEM post-apocalyptic series, Counteraction.
