by Jaye Shields
Sparrow curled over and hurled.
“First time in Ljubljana’s Den?” A husky, heavily accented English addressed Sparrow as she closed her eyes to guard against the splash of vomit against the stone floor.
Gee, how did he guess?
“Go back, Chaemer. You smell so fucking bad she’s getting my new boots dirty.”
Large, warm hands wrapped around her stomach. Not a good idea buddy. From the pressure on her abdomen, Sparrow heaved once more, various grunts and howls of laughter echoing around her. Even her vomit smelled better than the demon standing still too close for comfort.
Her stomach finally emptied, she stood weakly. Turning toward the arms still wrapped around her, she wiped the palm of her hand across her mouth. Remnants of puke juice streaked against her skin as she glared at the dude that caused her second heave.
He was tall, but no silver hair and opaque, mesmerizing gaze. Okay, not a Knight of the Fog. And definitely not in the same league of handsomeness as jerkface Rowen.
“Like what you see, woman?”
“I think my eyes are overwhelmed by my sense of smell right now. Where’s the bathroom?” She tried to ignore the gaze the man had riveted on her. He definitely had mentally removed every piece of clothing on her. He probably knew about the freckle right above her belly button.
“I’ll escort you there.” A subtle smile played at his lips, and his dark, coals of eyes held nothing more than malicious intent. He wasn’t Rowen, he wasn’t being a gentleman, and he obviously had every intention of sexing her up in the bathroom.
“Just point the way, Casanova. I don’t know about your realm, but in mine, vomit isn’t exactly a turn-on.”
A storm passed over his gaze, and she noticed the way his jaw ticked. Obviously Casanova wasn’t used to rejection. But luckily, he pointed in the direction of a sign that she could only imagine meant restroom. As she neared the darkened corner, she realized that the dimly lit cavern of a washroom was definitely coed — or poly-ed, because from what she was seeing, there was no such thing as duality.
A cow-sized creature squatted above a dark pool in the ground. The creature’s belly housed five gigantic vaginas doing … oh, God, she couldn’t look. Her curious nature got the better of her though, and a quick peek revealed the creature had five gigantic penises accompanying each vagina.
A loud voice barked at her in a language she didn’t understand. Heat crowded her cheeks as the creature caught her gawking at its assortment of sex organs.
“Sorry. Just admiring your, um, plethora of toys there.”
Quickly nixing the plan to wash her hands, she backed out of the washroom once more. Departing the room in a rush, she ran smack dab into Casanova, who stood blocking the doorway. He grabbed her arms and shook her, her head snapping back and forth like a ragdoll under his strength.
“Witch!” The muscular giant may have been handsome if not for the yellow teeth and psychotic gaze. He slammed her against the wall while he fumbled with her jeans. Sparrow narrowed her own gaze back at him.
“Gee, how did you know?”
With that, she flashed into her bird form, a tiny hummingbird to disappear from his grasp and fly behind him. She drove her needle-like beak into the back of the douche bag’s head before zooming across the dungeon-esque pub to the bar. She flashed back into her womanly form, exhilarated from her small victory. She couldn’t help but smile at the bartender.
She wiped her sweaty palms on her pant legs, shaking off her experience with the vile otherworlder.
“Do you guys have Pepsi? I’m on a mission, so I’m trying to avoid alcohol.”
She was met with silence. Even the folks around her didn’t seem to be too interested. Apparently girls turning into birds was pretty normal in this realm.
“Okay, fine. I’ll have a merlot then.”
More silence. The leather-skinned demon stood on two feet as he used three hands to wash and stack glasses.
“Have you seen anyone come through here with a blond who kinda looks like me, only twenty-three years older?” She assessed the bartender across from her. His six eyes showed no hint of acknowledgment. Clearly her mother had not been here.
“He doesn’t speak English.” The hooded creature sitting next to her at the bar spoke softly from beside her. She inhaled the subtle scent of smoke and frankincense from his close proximity. “Bartenders in the worlds speak many languages including human tongue, but not usually English.”
Blue hands fingered the hood of the cloak, and pulled it back to reveal a familiar face. A face that she had seen mostly in her dreams.
Pyrrhus.
His smooth blue skin and cat-like yellow eyes nearly caused her to stumble off her chair. Her hands quickly grasped the bar. She peeked over at him. Dark, shaggy locks framed his calm, peaceful gaze, and she realized he looked a great deal wiser in person than he did in her dreams. But that’s probably just because in my dreams he’s too busy talking dirty.
“It is good to see you have fully recovered.”
“Thanks.” She studied his form briefly. Like other beings, he wore little clothing, only a tattered cloak that hid a ripped blue torso. His body was gorgeous, but she still felt a pang of sadness that Rowen didn’t belong to her. She wanted to worship at Rowen’s body like she’d done in Hy-Breasal.
Looking down to avoid eye contact, Sparrow realized that his feet were bare, and obviously had been for quick some time. Guess Converse isn’t a big deal over here.
“Has there been more trouble since I last saw you?” The low tone escaping the dragon demon reminded her of how lethal he had been that night at the Alcatraz Portal.
“My mom has disappeared. It’s got to be Eris, since she has it out for my best friend, Tera. And that’s why we had to fight all those demons that night.”
Pyrrhus nodded, but she still got the feeling that he didn’t quite take her concerns seriously, although his face betrayed no particular emotion.
“How is it you know English?” Almost immediately, she wished she could take the question back. Pyrrhus’ regal golden gaze had turned pained, and shifted away from her. Now he simply looked off into the crowded establishment.
“It’s not a subject that is easily addressed.” With that, he turned to the bartender, and began speaking in a language that she could only describe as complete jibberish. The words were slow, and all seemed to be connected in a low-pitched song of syllables. The bartender responded in the same language, but didn’t seem to be fluent.
Pyrrhus handed her a goblet of red liquid. She tried not to meet his gaze, for when she did, she recalled the many meetings they had within her dreams. “This is Dionysus wine. The closest you’ll get to merlot here.”
Eyeing the crimson liquid, she wondered if she should trust the Quetzalem. Sure he’d helped save her life, but damn if she wasn’t suspicious in a room full of demons. Besides, she had to stay sharp. But the scent of spices like cardamom and cinnamon mixing with the smoky scent of the wine was too much to resist. She’d just take a sip.
All the while, the Quetzalem’s gaze was a searing brand on her. Finally, he returned his attention to the bartender, and spoke once more in jibberish. She sipped her wine until finally, he translated.
“Your mother has not been through here, and no one has heard talks of a goddess traveling through the realms.”
She couldn’t hide her disappointment, and she took a long, slow chug of the Dionysus wine to console herself.
“I am sorry, Sparrow. If there were a goddess who passed through the Portal Realm or tried to recruit any minions, it would be the talk of every realm. Are you sure your mother would have been taken out of the human realm?”
“Well, it seemed like the only logical explanation. My mom doesn’t exactly party. She had me when she was really young, and my dad was completely abs
ent. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure he’s non-existent. Like, maybe my grandma spelled for a granddaughter or something.” She smiled weakly as she considered the idea. It was often she told herself that to explain her mother’s sadness. Because of course, the only other consideration was that her mother had been in love, then abandoned.
“Your grandmother sounds very powerful.”
“Yeah, she has to wear a mandatory bracelet that suppresses powers once they’ve been misused too many times. The conservative covens passed that law a long time ago, and now it’s pretty strictly enforced. When my grandma made sure she won the lotto to secure our Victorian dream house after my mom got pregnant, she was branded by the bracelet ever since. Now she can just do moderate enchantments.”
“Well, if you have been born by an enchantment, I am not surprised.” Pyrrhus looked at her, a sensual fire lighting up his yellow gaze. She couldn’t help but blush in response to the beautiful specimen. And he was a man. She had noticed that since he was relaxed, there was no trace of the hard scales that she had once seen, and no wings protruding from his back. His smooth blue skin wouldn’t have flown in the good old US of A, but in this realm, he looked surprising normal. In a devastatingly handsome sort of way. She supposed it had something to do with the way he looked royal, like a man who was both a king and a gentleman.
“You’re staring.”
Oops.
He laughed. “In a room where you’re surrounded by various demons of the horned and Cyclops kind, I am flattered that I keep your attention.”
She downed her wine. “I’ll have another of these.” Although the bartender supposedly didn’t speak English, he fetched her another goblet of the warm liquid. She chugged, each gulp letting the confusion of her mother’s disappearance fade. Maybe she was fine after all.
“Careful, I’m not sure how beverages here compare to the human realm.” Pyrrhus smiled affectionately.
“Oh believe me, I’ve already found that out the hard way. I’m gonna be plastered.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and leaned into Pyrrhus, feeling increasingly more lovable as she became more buzzed. “So, tell me about these crazy sex dreams I’m having.”
“I hope they haven’t been too bothersome.” The look he gave her was innocent enough.
“You don’t control them, do you?”
“No. I have no idea what’s going on in your head. I just know that for females, the dreams tend to be of lust, not violence.”
“Thank God.”
A subtle smile parted his dark blue lips. “I am glad it pleases you.”
“Not like that. I mean, no happy endings. Yet.” Heat crept into her cheeks, and at that moment, she really wished she had blue skin, too. Damn pale skin giving her emotions away!
“Of course not, milady, I was only remarking that it pleases me that you are not unhappy that I took the liberties to administer the blood to you despite the consequences.”
“Oh,” she nodded. “Definitely happy to be alive. Thank you again for that. And thanks for helping me find out about my mom. I wouldn’t have known where to start.”
“It is no problem. I am happy to have your company, and was very pleased to see you alive.” He took a slow chug of his brew and she took note of his thick, muscular neck as it swallowed the nectar. Then he turned to her, and his golden eyes mesmerized her. “The last I saw you, you were like a ray of light spilled onto a dark void. You looked too innocent to be lying broken, surrounded by the bodies of so many demons.”
“Well, thanks, but I’m definitely not an innocent little girl.” The bitter outburst left her to rethink the potency of the wine. “I mean, I did some damage up there, didn’t I?”
“You did. I flew right past you to aid with the dragon. You’re quite agile in flight.”
“That’s right, I did see you. Sorry, it’s all kind of a blur when I try to remember that night.” She did remember vividly now. He had shown up with Sabin and the Knights of the Fog. The strength in the lean muscles she saw now had been put to good use. He had been a lethal, yet merciful killer. She remembered noticing his hesitation before he finished the dragon.
“You don’t like to kill, do you?” she asked.
“Should I?” Flicks of amber danced in his yellow gaze and he took another drink, his bicep flexing as he lifted the mug to his lips.
“Some people enjoy feeling like a hero. My friend Tera and her man Sabin seem to enjoy the feeling.”
“This I understand, but I know that some of those creatures on the island that night did not make the choice to be there themselves. The vampires and many of the demons, sure. They enjoy violence. But the dragons that had been lured through the portal, I know they were simply pawns. Dragons and my own breed, the Quetzalem have been hunted for years. Peace was denied us.”
She thought his words were the beginning to a long story, but instead, he took another drink, and followed it only with silence. Her curiosity was peaked, but she was still sober enough to realize he was done with the conversation. “So, how do you know Sabin?”
“The same way I know Chaos.” Around them, the band began to play. The instruments were unique, but the sounds were somewhat familiar. The lead vocalist was a gorgeous, albeit strange looking female. She was around six feet tall, with skin that shimmered as if painted in gold leafing. Her eyes were the color of caramel, and her hair black as night as it cascaded down, covering her nude body. Her voice sounded like a flute as she hummed an ethereal tune into the microphone. “That’s a siren.” Apparently, Pyrrhus had noticed her checking out the demon band.
“So, how do you know Chaos?” Even Sparrow hadn’t seen the vicious goddess.
“The Knights of the Fog have a prison for those who break inter-world laws. I was there in a cell with a couple other Quetzalem. Strangely enough, a few of the Knights ended up in the cell next to ours.” He laughed gruffly and shook his head. “A couple of them had been quite worked up at the idea of being locked away in their own prison. It wasn’t long after that they were visited by the Goddess of Chaos. She had asked them to aid her in her malicious endeavors, but they denied her. So moved then to our cell and tried to recruit me. Perhaps had I known she would have done such harm to an innocent human, I would have followed if only to stop her.”
“Again with the innocent?”
He smiled in response and continued with the story. “She was able to recruit a copper-skinned Quetzalem. He was in a bad way, but most of the Quetzalem are. I hope his absence from the island in your realm means that he left Chaos to do her own bidding.”
“What were you doing in a prison anyway?”
“I was caught exiting a realm where Quetzalem are not allowed entrance.”
Once again, she noticed his gaze gave away a hint of buried emotion. His strong hands clenched tighter on the mug he handled. “What caused you to go there?”
“I was hunting a hunter.” He took another drink and again did not continue to explain. “Should we go now, and continue to question the whereabouts of your mother?”
“We can have another drink.” She had to admit, she was curious about the man next to her. She watched him signal the large worm-looking bartender for another drink. His skin was pallid and wrinkly, with only a few wiry hairs jutting out here and there. His numerous eyes were large black voids. “So, hunting a hunter … ”
“My kind, the Quetzalem, over the course of centuries have been hunted for our blood. The healing properties make mortals feel invincible. Before the Knights of the Fog were in place, travelers, mostly mortal men from other realms, came to hunt us. They began stealing our children and then females, and taking them to their own realms to keep as blood slaves. They could make a fortune by having a Quetzalem at their disposal.
“Eventually, the men brought large forces and waged wars with our land for hundreds of years, until finall
y, they had conquered us. Some of us went into hiding; I was born from those who had been able to escape initially. To this day, the realm where my kind are from is overrun by mortal men keeping us as blood slaves to avoid death. The only peace I have now is knowing that every time they drink, they are haunted by nightmares of the violence we would so readily inflict on them.”
Their drinks arrived. “Wow.” She watched him take a steady drag of his brew. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“I saw the mortal with the concealed weaponry of a quetzal hunter and I followed him. When he entered into a realm forbidden to me, I didn’t care. I followed him. When I caught him, I tied his hands and forced some of my blood down his throat. When he passed out, I relished the nightmares that I knew were coming to him. I watched him thrash in his sleep. And when he woke, relieved the nightmares were done, I brought the same visions to him in reality. I told you that I do not enjoy killing. But I do enjoy the thought of ensuring that there is one less man who will hurt my people.”
She was both disturbed and touched by Pyrrhus’s story. The man was such a gentleman in how he spoke to her and how he carried himself. Even during the battle on Alcatraz, he had seemed both sane and gentle. Imagining him as a ruthless defender was new. He was a man with a cause. Just like her.
“Do you think my mom is okay? Was it crazy for me to just take off like that?”
“I do think your mom is okay, and I think she must be an incredible woman to raise so brave and determined a daughter.” The admiration in his smile nearly brought her to her knees. Or maybe it was the demon wine “Humans rarely travel out of the earthly realm, and so I think if one did, there would be much talk of it. And since you know a knight, I am sure he would have informed you.”
“He’s on honeymoon.”
