Freya's Inferno (Winging It Book 1)

by Sonja Bair

  With coffee in hand and a lighter step, I returned to David. “Shall we wander over to a park?” I offered.

  “I suppose we shall,” he returned. He got up stiffly and meticulously brushed imaginary crumbs off his pants. This was one tightly wound werewolf. I made a bet with myself that I could get him to smile sometime in the next hour. It was going to be hard, but not impossible.

  Judging from his silence, it was up to me to start any small talk. “One thing that I love about San Luis is the street musicians—the troubadours, one might say. Of course, most of them are looking for some cash, but still, they are trying to earn their money. Now, that particular gentleman I was talking to, I have heard play before. Let’s say the New York Philharmonic will not be calling anytime soon.”

  I paused, but David wasn’t biting. Bad choice of words; let me rephrase. David wasn’t doing his part in the conversation. So I continued. “And he may not make the most sense. In fact, he keeps calling me Petunia and complementing me on my handwriting. Do I look like a petunia? Do I smell like a petunia? And I’m not sure where he would have seen my handwriting, but to be frank, paper cringes in fear when I approach. Still, it’s the thought that counts.”

  No reply from David. I let us walk about a block before I couldn’t take it anymore. I’m all for compatible silence between friends, but we were neither compatible nor friends. Out of desperation, I went for the big guns. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, reached into my large Elin-designed fabric purse, pulled out the bag with the lentil soup, and tried to hand it to David.

  “This is for you,” I said. David looked at the bag like it contained a ticking time bomb. “Take it. It won’t explode, I promise.”

  David slowly took the bag but didn’t open it. Someone must have done a number on him, I thought. I am one of the least-scary-looking supernaturals around and yet he was acting like I was going to rip out his throat at any second. He was a foot taller than me and covered with muscle, but by his body language, I could tell he was very much on edge.

  With much hesitation, he looked into bag, his forehead creased in confusion, and he reached in carefully. I was tempted to let off one of those “gotcha” shrieks that Hollywood uses when the monster attacks, but I didn’t think he’d appreciate the humor.

  Instead, I said in a carefully calculated, light tone, “It’s a container of Lentil and Spinach Stew. I figured it was the least I could do since I stole the last bag of lentils.”

  David looked perplexed, but then a small smile crept up his face. Bet won, and we weren’t even to the park. “See, it isn’t that hard to smile,” I said with a grin.

  “I reserve the right to determine how scary the soup is until I eat it. It, however, cannot be as good as my lentil chili,” David replied, one eyebrow cocked up and his mouth twitched in an almost-smile.

  Was he joking with me? Did he, in fact, just flirt with me?

  “Hmmm, it sounds like you signed yourself up to a lentil cook-off. It’s a plan.” Wow, this was not going as planned.

  David must have realized the same thing as me because the scary, unemotional face promptly returned.

  We walked in silence to the small pocket park on the corner of two main streets in San Luis. The park was unusual looking in that it was created by a Chinese professor on exchange at Cal Poly. There were stone dragons guarding the entrance and a small pagoda in the center. Luckily, it was empty. David and I took a seat on a stone bench.

  David sat up straight, cleared his throat, and spoke in a steady and firm voice.

  “I did some research on you, Freya Holm, and it was fairly interesting. You grew up in Chicago. Your father is a professor of Scandinavian Studies and your mother is a part-time professor of International Relations, both at the University of Chicago. You attended Northwestern and graduated with a degree in biology. You then seem to drop off the map for a few years, only to return when getting your teaching credentials. You previously taught in the Chicago Public School District for four years, but have recently taken a job at the SLO School of the Arts, teaching science. You have played cello in several folk bands and have volunteered for many years with troubled youth.”

  I knew that he would be researching me much like I researched him, but it was still disconcerting to hear my life laid out fact by fact from a complete stranger. On the other hand, all that information could have been gleaned off the Internet, so he hadn’t discovered any secrets.

  David continued. “But that is information you could get from the Internet. I was more interested in the secrets that are not so easily discovered.”

  Crap, that doesn’t sound good, I immediately thought.

  “I have sources, and those sources told a more interesting story. You are from a long line of high-ranking Alva. Your mom was the first to move to America, although now several of her siblings have part-time residences in Chicago as well. She has been one of the major forces in trying to unite supernaturals for protection against each other, protection from the naturals, and to protect the naturals themselves. You were drawn into the USN workings at any early age and after college worked there full-time. You were promoted to Intelligence Officer for Associate Members. One of your first assignments was with a witch coven in Florida. Unknown to the USN, the coven had turned from white magic to black magic. They captured you and your team and used blood sacrifices and body scarring to increase their power. You and the rest of your team escaped by, what my sources tell me, was some impressive work from you in particular. You quit your USN job and became a teacher.”

  I could either be angry or intimidated by the fact that he knew so much of my background. I decided to be angry. “Very nice work. Congratulations. Do you want to see the scars? Did your sources tell you that the scars from black magic don’t fade, even with my supernatural healing? They are very fascinating and quite extensive. And now that you have discovered some of my personal skeletons in the closet, how is that going to affect this particular situation?”

  He had the grace to look a little ashamed, but he continued, unabashed. “I also learned that you have plenty of allies and resources. Your mom, of course, along with other members of USN. The tribes of the people you saved in Florida have officially adopted you into their ranks. And the Alva Flock is one of the strongest supernatural powers in Europe. You have resources, places to go, people who will lovingly welcome you into their homes and cities. I, as I’m sure you have figured out, do not. San Luis Obispo is my territory. I will not give it up just because someone moved here on a whim. I am appealing to your sense of fairness to leave the city and go join some of your other friends. If fairness alone doesn’t appeal to you, I am prepared to pay a substantial amount to sweeten the deal.”

  David paused and stared off into the distance, the tips of his elbows resting on his knees. I was tempted to reply with some scathing comment, but I had learned the negative consequences of that mistake many times in the past. I, too, stared off in the distance and made a mental list of what I knew and could guess.

  1. I wasn’t moving.

  2. He wasn’t moving.

  3. David had had a really bad time with his pack to put him on edge so much.

  4. He immediately played on my sense of fairness to get me to leave. He didn’t threaten or move straight to violence.

  5. Of course, he did know that I had plenty of backup that would pounce if he harmed me.

  6. Although he claimed not to have any allies, he clearly did since he discovered all that information.

  7. He had never lived in a territory with more than one supernatural species.

  8. The world was only getting smaller and territories were eventually going to have to be shared.

  9. The poor guy should learn #8 as soon as possible.

  10. I’m a fairly harmless person to help with #9.

  11. I kind of have enjoyed pushing David’s buttons and making him smile.

  12. The world needs more smiles.

  13.For the good of the world, I will stay
here and help David become a more easygoing person.

  I smiled and sat up straight. “Alright, David. I see that you need some convincing that you and I can live gracefully in the same area. So in that vein, I accept your offer of making me dinner. But truth be told, I’ve had enough lentils for awhile, so I would request some other dish. I have a feeling you are a good cook, so you can surprise me. How about this Sunday night?”

  The blank mask fell and David looked surprised and more than a touch angry. “No. You will leave town.”

  “David,” I said patiently, “I am not going to leave town. I’m here for good. There are many places in the world where many different kinds of supernaturals live together without any problem. Take Chicago, headquarters of the USN. That place is full of the strange and unusual, and there hasn’t been one major problem yet. I came here today thinking that I would offer to stay out of your hair if you did the same, but I changed my mind. I’m a teacher through and through, and I am going to help you learn that we can co-exist without problems. So, Sunday at seven at your house? I’ll bring wine and dessert and we can share horror stories about growing up supernatural in a natural world.” I smiled, gathered my bag, and started to walk away. If I retreated fast enough, he wouldn’t have a chance to find a way out of my trap.

  “Wait,” David yelled at my back. “You don’t even know where I live.”

  “You’re not the only one who has their sources,” I replied with a smirk.

  ***

  Sunday morning, the supernaturals who were to stay in Elin’s guest house arrived at the airport. I offered to pick them up and drop them at the house. When I offered my services, I could see my mother’s shoulders tighten up and her face wince in pain, even though we were on the phone. She was another one who did not see the charm in the Eagle. Unbelievable.

  “What’s the big deal about these supernaturals anyway, since you are willing to risk Elin’s wrath to give them a place to stay?” I had asked earlier in the week. My mother’s mind works continually, and there is always a bigger purpose lurking around the corner.

  “Be fair to your sister. Elin was very sweet and understanding when I talked to her.” That was because Elin asked for an outrageous amount of rent for the week and my mother accepted without a protest, which made me even more curious. “The USN is trying to get buy-in from the supernatural group they lead. It would be the first group we have gotten from their area and is possibly a way to start having an influence in Southeastern China.”

  “So what species are they? I didn’t recognize the name when Elin mentioned it.”

  “Roughly translated, they are the Sun/Moon species. They are a fascinating people. They don’t have any extra powers, per se, no super strength or shapeshifting ability. Rather, there is a link between two people, and between them flows the balance of all extremes in life. Strength and weakness, knowledge and intuition, feeling and thinking, even male and female characteristics can flow between them. “

  “Yin and Yang, right?” I asked.

  “Basically. And most of the time, the partners maintain a fairly even balance between the two extremes. But let’s say one needs to move a fridge. Most of the strength will flow from one to the other, letting the one person easily handle it by themselves. Of course, the other partner will be weak for the time being, until their strength is returned by the partner.”

  “Couldn’t they move the fridge together?”

  My mom sighed. “An example, Freya, an example. Qiang and Jia are wonderful people, and they are looking for a quiet retreat after Jia’s conference in Oregon. Please respect them.” Mom took a deep breath and continued, “In other news from your part of the world, Alrik is down in Los Angeles working with a new client.”

  “That’s nice.” My reply might have been a tad chilly.

  “You could invite him up for an afternoon. I’m sure he could make time,” she said.

  “And I’m sure he’s busy. Besides, L.A. is four hours away, not right next door.”

  My mom wisely dropped the subject and moved on to less touchy areas. Alrik had been part of my life for as long as I could remember. His family had lived in Sweden but were frequent international travelers and often visited my parents in Illinois. When I got older, I was sent to “How to be an Alva Summer Camp” in Sweden—my phrasing, not an official title. I first had tried to hang out with him, since we had gotten along so well when he was visiting the States, but I got the icy shoulder. Then, over the years I was teased relentlessly by him and his buddies. I wasn’t Alva enough, I was a stupid American, I was a spotted freak. A lot of tears were shed because of his teasing. One of the last summers back in Sweden, he seemed to have changed. He was nice to me and even tried to apologize for his behavior. But I had learned my lesson and while always friendly back, I kept him at an emotional distance.

  The problem was that his job brought him to the US a lot, and his official Flock position kept him in frequent contact with my mother. For some reason, Mom had taken his side and decided we should be friends. And then after my little escapade down in Florida, he was sent on clean-up duty by both the flock and—unofficially—the USN to destroy the coven. And so, in my brain, he had become associated with more of my pain. I was better off without him.

  Chapter 4

  Qiang and Jia were easy to spot at San Luis’ flyspeck airport. Both stood stiffly at the far end of the passenger loading zone with small suitcases in hand. They appeared to be in their early-thirties, well dressed, but a little beleaguered and overwhelmed from the travel and culture shock, judging from the distant look in their eyes. Although both were very polite and their English was excellent, the conversation started haltingly. From my experience working with international groups at the USN, I have discovered that food is one of the best common denominators across all people. Almost everyone likes to talk about food, especially to complain about other cultures’ weird appetites, so I encouraged them to dish on how horrible American food was. Much to my surprise, Qiang loved American food, even fast food. Less surprising was Jia’s dislike of greasy burgers and fries. When I asked her what her favorite food was, she paused a moment, spoke a Chinese phrase, then immediately translated it to English. Lentil and Rice Soup. I burst out laughing. What was the chance of lentils, lentils, coming up in conversation with two different supernaturals in the same week? Both Qiang and Jia looked baffled and understandably hurt by my reaction so I stopped, caught my breath and reassured them repeatedly that I laughed only because I had a favorite recipe featuring lentils as well. Jia unclenched her hands and allowed herself a tentative smile—perhaps the ice could be broken. Anxious to use the connection we discovered, I prompted her to tell me more about her favorite dish. She leaned forward slightly and broadened her smile. Fresh ginger, she told me, was the key ingredient. And then she was off and running, telling me all about her cooking experiments using lentils. The discussion became easy, as we passed recipe tips back and forth. We moved from cooking onto other weightier topics, finding during the forty minute drive that we had much in common. The only time there was a pause was when we arrived at Elin’s guest house.

  As Jia stepped out of the car, she hesitated, turned, and placed her hand on top of mine. Her softly spoken parting words were innocent enough at the time, but haunted me in the months to come. “You and I must have been meant to meet. I think I found an American kindred spirit.” Her words were flattering and at some other time, I might have stuck around the guest house and continued our conversation, but my thoughts were already starting to move to dinner with David that night. I agreed, wished them well, and headed back to town and a meeting with a grumpy werewolf.

  Based on our interaction on Friday, my plan was to break through David’s crusty exterior and find out how to best help him learn to relax around other supernaturals. In preparation, I picked up my favorite bottle of local Chardonnay and a freshly baked apple pie to bring to his house. He rented a house up in the base of a foothill not too far from town. It was a sma
ll Arts and Crafts house, but meticulously kept. Personally, I would plant a few more flowers, but David didn’t seem to be the type who would care much for them. I parked the Eagle on the street, walked up to his door, ignored the doorbell, and used the fancy decorative knocker. Why put a knocker on a door if it isn’t meant to be used?

  David answered the door looking much more casual than our last meeting. The light green shirt he was wearing did an exceptional job of bringing out his beautiful emerald eyes and long eyelashes. Why do guys always get the long eyelashes?

  David cast a glance out to the street and asked, “AMC Eagle station wagon, maybe an ’87?” Be still, my heart; I was in love. “I know teachers don’t get paid much, but you must be scraping the bottom of the pay scale to drive that.” I was promptly out of love.

  “I’m waiting for people to realize the obvious charm of the vehicle, but it appears I’m too far ahead of the curve,” I said with a sniff. Rather than waiting for his witty comeback, I brushed past him and into the house. The smell of something wonderful grilling permeated the air. I realized that I was mistaken about flowers. David owned at least six different orchids of different sizes and colors. The delicacy of the plants seemed to be at odds with David’s personality—perhaps that was his point.

  “Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. Can I open the wine for you?”

  I nodded and then realized our little conversation sounded very much like a couple on a date. I hadn’t planned on this being a date. Or did I? What game was I playing here?

  From the kitchen, David answered my unspoken question. “This may seem like a friendly dinner, Freya, but please do not be mistaken. I do not like your presence in town. I will actively work to get you out of San Luis by any means necessary.”