Mystic Ink

by Casey Wyatt

  He took the phone. Doris began speaking the moment it touched his ear. He never got in a word edgewise as the female Goddess spoke firmly and plainly to him. None of the flighty behavior she liked to project to her daughters was evident. Her words were succinct and specific.

  Nix danced from foot to foot until he handed the phone back to her. “Well?”

  “We’re taking a trip to Manhattan.”

  “When?” Nix said, eyeing him suspiciously.

  “Right now.” No time like the present. No point in delaying the inevitable showdown between Nix and her mother.

  “Fuck you. I’m not at my mother’s beck and call.” When Nix ground her heels in, she was as stubborn as a rock.

  “Trust me. For this, you’ll want to go.” Cal sat on the bike and waited for comprehension to dawn on Nix’s face.

  “My father.” Nix didn’t wait for Cal to answer. She donned her helmet and took her place behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  The engine roared to life. Cal shifted into gear.

  Nix demanded, “We’re taking a car. No way am I driving to NYC on this bike.”

  Cal chuckled as they roared down the road. Some things never changed. If Nix could take a conveyance that didn’t involve straddling something, she would do it. And he would let her. It was the least he could do considering what awaited her in Manhattan.

  Chapter 10

  Nix tried her hardest not to fume all the way down Interstate 95. It wasn’t Cal’s fault he couldn’t assume water form and swim there. It would have been much faster, not to mention less stressful than sitting in late afternoon traffic.

  The delays gave her plenty of time to ponder the Harpies. They were foul creatures. Almost no one in the God world liked to associate with them. They were shrill, uncouth, and they stank to high heaven in their natural form. And the seal. What was up with that?

  Her hand clutched the pendant hanging from the chain around her neck. Before she left, she stowed Rocky’s teardrop-shaped soul into a large locket for safekeeping. With all the commotion, she hadn’t had time to properly carry out his last wish. Soon, she promised. The soul warmed under her fingers through the material of her T-shirt.

  “You’re awfully quiet.” Cal’s eyes never strayed from the road, yet Nix could still feel his scrutiny as sure as if he were facing her.

  “Just pondering events.” Nix smiled. “And before you say it’s a dangerous pastime, I know what you’re thinking. How deep can a Nymph’s thoughts really be?”

  Cal’s shoulders stiffened at the remark. “Nix, I don’t think that at all.” He seemed . . . angry. “I’ve never bought into that stereotype. It’s like believing all blondes are dumb and all jocks are meatheads. Or that all Satyrs are crazed sex maniacs.”

  Why did he have to go there? “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Nix, you’re wrong. I do know.” Cal’s lips spread into a grim line. “You forget that I have access to information. I can’t divulge the hows or whys, but I was briefed before this assignment.”

  So she was just an assignment to him. For some reason, that stung. Nothing about their situation felt like a mission. It felt so . . . personal. After taking a few slow, deep breaths, Nix spoke with a calm she really didn’t feel. “Then you know why I don’t trust Satyrs.” Maybe he would tell her something useful. Or at least give her a hint about what had happened.

  Cal’s voice softened as the car slowed for another construction delay. “I do, but I can’t discuss specifics. Hypothetically, if a Satyr had been caught abusing the fairer sex, then he would be dealt with. Harshly. Hypothetically speaking. You understand.”

  Nix twisted in her seat to face Cal. His face betrayed nothing. No emotion at all. Only the battle-hardened face of a warrior who had seen too much suffering, too much death. “Thank you.” Even though he hadn’t told her anything specific, it still made her feel better. He had confirmed, that, possibly, she or one of her sisters had been abused by a Satyr. If that was the case, then of course she would hate the monster that did it.

  Curse Nereus. If he would leave their memories alone, she wouldn’t be stuck with all these emotions she didn’t understand. At least Cal seemed to understand. Maybe he believed her father needed to change his policies. Cal at least seemed sympathetic. Or at the very least, open to thinking outside the box.

  Nix cleared her throat, drew out Rocky’s pendant, and untangled it from the locket she always wore. Again, the locket’s origin was another casualty of memory wipes. Deep in her heart, she knew the battered gold heart was important, yet she had no idea why.

  Cal’s eyes flashed sideways, taking in the activity with his peripheral vision.

  “Since you shared with me, I’ll share this with you.” Nix fumbled with the chains, still stubbornly entwined.

  “The locket?” Cal’s throat sounded constricted.

  “Oh, I’ve had this for the last hundred years. I don’t remember who gave it to me. Guess it was during a mission.” And she had never been able to part with it. Anytime she considered it, her heart sped up, her instincts buzzing that it was too important to lose. “Maybe someday, I’ll find out.”

  “So you were saying . . .” Cal tightened his grip on the steering wheel, the car speeding up now that they were past construction. When Nix insisted on taking a car, she had no idea Cal would switch the Harley out for a vintage Mercedes. While, it wasn’t as sweet as her Challenger, it was still a great car. Smooth ride, fully appointed interior . . .

  “Nix?”

  “Sorry, got lost in my head there for a second.” Not that she would admit she was admiring his car. “I have a friend who died recently.”

  “I’m sorry, Nix,” he said, his voice sympathetic.

  She wondered how sympathetic he’d still feel when he learned she grieved over an animal. A lump formed in her throat. She thought about Rocky’s big soulful gaze, his gentle spirit . . . his fishy breath. She missed him so much.

  “Rocky was a longtime friend. I rescued him as a seal pup from a shark.” Nix waited for a snide comment. A snicker. When no ridicule materialized, she continued. “He died at the aquarium in my arms. His final wish was that I release his soul back to the waters of his birth.” Another quick glance. Was Cal misty-eyed?

  “Oh, Nix.” Cal’s voice was thick with emotion. He seemed about to say more, but then he clammed up. “I would be honored to escort you on your errand.”

  Wow. Not what she’d expected from Calder Quinne, Son of Ares. Nix furiously brushed away the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She looked out the window and watched the Welcome to New York sign pass by while wrangling her emotions into place. She tucked her sadness back into its mental box, along with her nagging idea that she had something to do with Cal’s missing soul. “Thank you. If we’re successful, it’s a date.”

  The car slowed again as traffic stopped for another delay. “Now what?” Cal groused. A state trooper directed traffic, diverting cars into separate lanes, either to left or right of another construction site. “We’ll be lucky to make it there before nightfall at this rate.”

  Cal steered toward the right, taking the detour posted on orange road signs. After traveling for about a mile through a suburban area, they emerged onto a hilly country road.

  “Don’t you think this is weird?” A warning bell rang in Nix’s head. “There’s no other traffic. Where are all the other cars?”

  “Shit. You’re right—”

  Cal slammed on the brakes, narrowly missing a large hulking shape standing in the center of the road. Nix thanked the Gods they wore seatbelts, otherwise they would have kissed the dashboard hard enough to lose teeth. “You okay?” Cal said, throwing the car in park.

  “Who the hell is that guy?” Nix rubbed her neck, trying to massage away near whiplash.

  The man, sporting a scuffed leather jacket and jeans with torn out knees, stood a few feet from the hood of the car. A blue paisley bandanna covered his forehead, stopping s
lightly above two tufted eyebrows. Pale eyes, almost milky white, stared back at them.

  Nix wondered if he was blind, except his gaze fixed onto her face and narrowed, as if he suspected the thought. Long, gray hair flowed down around his shoulders. He looked like a deranged, old nutcase—the kind of person who spoke in gibberish and smelled like he hadn’t bathed in weeks. A weirdo that you’d cross the street to avoid.

  “Let’s find out what he wants, shall we?” Cal unhooked his seatbelt and left the car before Nix could protest. The old coot continued to stare at her like she was lunch. She didn’t like it.

  “Ah, hell.” She left the car, circling around the trunk end to join Cal. Pungent odor, like dead skunk drifted, reaching her nose. Gods, he stank like road kill.

  “Do you need some help?” Cal asked, his shoulders bunched, body poised to react. Looked like Cal didn’t trust the man either. The faint scent of wood smoke scented the air.

  The man shuffled forward. His steps were misaligned for the size of his body, like he wore shoes too small for his feet. “The girl has what I want.” A sickly pink tongue darted out of his mouth, circling his thick, cracked lips.

  “I don’t think so, mister,” Cal growled. “Go back the way you came and there won’t be any trouble.”

  The stench grew stronger and more familiar. He bounded forward, the pavement cracking under his feet. Only a body of significant mass could chew up the road like that. Nix backpedaled, senses wildly seeking a source of water.

  “Girlie, give me the seal.” The air shimmered. The illusion of the old man wavered. A large hulking shadow winked in, then out.

  “Cal . . . Cyclops.” Nix’s heart beat out of control. She loathed the whine in her voice. Cyclopes loved Nymphs. As in loved to death. Her sister Galatea narrowly escaped with her life after Polyphemus’ ill-fated fixation.

  The brute laughed at her fear. He slowly unwound the bandana until he uncovered his true, single eye. “Sweet Sea Nymph. Leave this puny Demigod and come with me. I promise to satisfy you and then some.” A thick unibrow, the size of a snake, wagged up and down.

  Nix’s fear evaporated, replaced by disgust. “Males are all alike. Thinking Nymphs are sex maniacs.” She found water underneath her feet. A rich flow from the storm drains, ready to be tapped at a moment’s notice. “What is this seal that you want?”

  The Cyclops shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know. I was asked to find it and take it by any means necessary.” For such a large creature, he moved fast. He swatted Cal across the road with a loud thwack.

  There was nothing between her and the monster now. Good. Nix drove up a ten foot wall of water straight through the pavement. Her arms shook under the water’s tremendous weight. Her eardrums popped against the strain of holding so much power. With a roar, she unleashed it against the Cyclops, blasting him several yards in a violent cascade wave.

  Nix raced back to the spot where Cal fell, but he was gone. Before she could search further, large chunks of asphalt rained down. She dodged debris that narrowly missed her head. Bursts of white hot fire erupted. It sailed across the sky and intercepted the rock deluge, vaporizing the chunks into dust. Cal strode down the road. His fists pumped out fiery artillery as efficiently as a cannon blast.

  The Cyclops dropped all pretense of humanity and assumed its natural form. Twelve feet high, he easily closed the distance in two long strides. Deep fault lines cracked the road. His mouth gaped in an ugly frown. “I will eat you, Son of Ares. Raw. First, I’ll tear off your arms. And then your legs—”

  Two orange fireballs landed in the Cyclops’ open mouth. He howled in pain, clawing at his throat. “That should shut him up.” Cal aimed another shot at its eye. The Cyclops hunched forward, deftly avoided the attack, then resumed its forward motion.

  “I have an idea,” Nix shouted. They would never be able to beat the thing on sheer strength alone. And they couldn’t let it destroy the car. Nix pulled more ground water, pooling it into the cracked pavement. “Try and maneuver him toward the broken road.”

  Without waiting for Cal to agree, Nix ran toward the Cyclops, taunting it. “Hey, I thought you were interested in me?”

  Garbled moans roared out of his injured throat. Its large eye tracked Nix as she circled and danced under the Cyclops’ feet. Every time he got too close, Nix would shoot needles of water into his eye. Furious, the Cyclops stomped the road, deepening the cracks, churning the surface underneath into a muddy pit.

  Nix was confident that Cal would figure out what she had planned. She just knew it. Later, when she wasn’t about to be ground into dust, she could examine why she felt that way.

  Undaunted, the Cyclops continued to swipe at Nix and miss. Whenever the Cyclops pounded down, she funneled water under the ground’s surface until quicksand formed. “Come on, Blinky. If you want a piece of me, you’re going to have to work for it.”

  Nix watched Cal out of the corner of her eye. He dodged blows, avoiding the Cyclops’ fists and feet alike until Cal was at the edge of the quicksand. Nix marveled at his agility. His movements were economical and precise. A warrior well honed and battle hardened. And her instincts were correct. He was on the same page, maneuvering the creature into her trap. Cal placed his palms on the hardtop and unleashed scorching hot heat. Moments later, the road melted into a liquid rock and pooled with the quicksand, creating a soupy mortar.

  “Nymph . . .” the Cyclops ground out, his voice rough and raw, “Give me the seal.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Nix screamed back. She liquefied the sediment, making it more absorbent. The creature didn’t notice it had sunk up to its ankles. “I don’t understand. How can I give you what I don’t have?”

  “Don’t care, little bitch.” Panic bloomed on his face. He finally noticed he was sinking. When he tried to lift his legs, ground sucked in around his knees, wedging his body further in the molten pool. “What have you done? Why am I so hot?”

  “You’ll live,” Nix said. “We don’t have time to mess with you right now.” The Cyclops had sunk to his shoulders. She cut off the water and nodded at Cal to lay off the heat.

  “A League retrieval squad will be coming to collect your sorry ass.” Cal punched buttons on his cell phone. “They’ll probably have to concoct a story about a localized earthquake to explain this mess.”

  The area was a total wreck. Buckled pavement, chunks of road, and globs of mud. Oh yeah, a mini-earthquake would do the trick. The Cyclops wriggled and squirmed, but he was thoroughly trapped. “You can’t leave me here.”

  “Yes, we can.” Cal bent down next to the Cyclops’ ear and whispered. Whatever he said caused the Cyclops to blanch. “We clear?”

  “Yes, Sir.” The air shimmered around the giant’s eye. The image blurred then reformed. His true form disappeared, morphing into a boulder.

  “Well, that was an interesting detour,” Nix said as the car sped down the road leaving the Cyclops behind. The highway entrance, straight ahead, showed no signs of any construction. The whole detour had been a set-up, a ruse designed to get them alone. But by which God or Goddess?

  “I guess that’s one way of looking at it.” Cal’s jaw clenched and unclenched. Dried blood had crusted along his hairline. “Bastard knocked me good. It’s been a long time since someone got the jump on me. I must be getting old.”

  Nix remained silent. So the male ego had just taken a hit. It must have hurt Cal’s James Bond persona to have been fooled by such a dumb hit man. “I don’t get it.”

  “What?”

  “Why send such an imbecile after us? Cyclopes are not known for their brains.” Nix sighed as the exit for Manhattan approached. Her gut knotted. Visits to her mother always inevitably ended the same way—with a giant headache.

  Cal’s phone buzzed on the seat between them. “Nix, you mind reading the text?”

  “Gods damn it.” She read the short message again. “He got away. This must be the world’s smartest Cyclops. He tricked the retrieval team.�
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  “Seriously? Or the world’s dumbest retrieval squad.” Cal shook his head in disbelief.

  “Apparently he created a secondary boulder, so when the team starting reforming the road, they freed him instead.” Nix stared out the window for a long moment. Each city block passed brought her closer to her mother. And another likely confrontation. “Cal, what did you say back there to the Cyclops?”

  Cal shrugged. “Just man to man stuff.”

  “Come on, don’t hold out on me. Whatever you said had him quaking.”

  “I told him if he even thought about laying a finger on you, I would roast his nuts over an open fire. While he watched.” The last part was delivered with a growl.

  “Wow. Thanks.” For some reason Cal’s defense of her honor thrilled her. She could take care of herself, but it was nice that he cared. She froze. She was doing it again. Mooning over Cal. Why? Why? Why?

  “We’re here.” Cal stopped in front her mother’s exclusive luxury building. A valet rushed over, ready to park the car. Cal cradled Nix’s elbow and steered her toward the door. “I know it’s hard. But try not to let your mother’s comments get to you.”

  “Cal. You have no idea how overbearing my mother is.” Nix nodded to the doorman as he held the door for them.

  “I know your mother loves you,” Cal said, his tone regretful.

  Nix instantly felt bad. Cal’s human mother had probably been dead for hundreds of years and here she was whining. “Okay. I’ll try.”

  The elevator whisked them to the foyer of her mother’s floor. Yes, the woman had the entire twenty-eighth floor to herself. Nix could never fathom why one person needed so much space. Sure, her father had a room, but he traveled so much, he was hardly there.

  The door clicked open. “Darling, you’re here. And you’re filthy.”

  Nix suppressed a growl. “Yes, Mother. Being attacked by a Cyclops tends to get one dirty.”

  Cal stuck out his hand. “Hello.”