Special Attraction (The Coursodon Dimension Book 3)

by M. L. Ryan

  “Wow. I’m, I don’t know what to say. I overreacted. That’s really nice, Sebastian. I’m sorry I was suspicious that you might do something improper.”

  “My dear, I would never do such a thing. Unless, of course,” he said with a sly grin, “she wanted me to.”

  4

  Karttyx arrived in the late afternoon, and Sebastian, Alex, and I greeted her at the driveway. She was traveling light this time. She had only two bodyguards and, instead of a limo, they drove up in one of the ubiquitous Xyzok SUV-type vehicles. Granted, it was a shiny new Cadillac Escalade and not a mud-spattered Jeep, but in theory, it could go off road if necessary.

  One of her minions came around the car, opened the door, and Karttyx emerged from the backseat. “I’m so pleased to see you,” she said enthusiastically as she gave Alex and me a warm embrace. Glancing over my shoulder at Sebastian, who was a few feet away leaning against the front doorjamb, Karttyx added a dry, “Oh, hello.”

  Sebastian smirked and offered an exaggerated bow. “Welcome to my home. I trust your journey was uneventful?”

  “Quite.” They glared at each other for a moment before Karttyx strode past Sebastian into the house. There was no love lost between them; Karttyx tolerated Sebastian because he was very good at what he did, and Sebastian was vaguely polite because he knew Karttyx could kick his ass. Maybe not literally—Karttyx was significantly older than he was—but she was his superior and had the power to make sure his next post was Courso Siberia if she so desired. Sebastian often lamented that the year spent in Camden, New Jersey as punishment for a previous run-in with Karttyx had curbed his more open expressions of belligerence.

  Sebastian, Alex, and I followed her inside and her security detail darted past us, trying to enter before Karttyx. They managed only to catch up to her in the entryway; one of them—an over-muscled behemoth with a mohawk—skated across the Saltillo-tiled floor in his haste to protect his charge. Actually, for such a big guy, he was fairly graceful. He sort of spun out of the skid as if the maneuver was choreographed. If it had been me, I’d have slid into the wall or landed on my ass.

  Karttyx shot him a bemused grin and said something in Courso. My vocabulary being limited to a few swear words and a smattering of useful nouns, I couldn’t understand what she said. However, the slight tightening of his jaw convinced me it wasn’t entirely flattering. She turned to me and sighed.

  “They are both new. Enthusiastic, but not particularly bright.” I glanced over at them, feeling uncomfortable that they were in earshot. Karttyx noticed my discomfort, waved a dismissive hand, and stated, “Don’t worry, neither speaks any English.”

  We escorted Karttyx to the living room, leaving the bodyguards to take up positions on either side of the oversized, rough wooden columns that separated the entry area from the sitting area. I asked if she’d like a drink, and her eyes lit up when I described the new selection of alcoholic beverages.

  “I’ll start with the Scorpion and move on from there.”

  Sebastian asked for a Balvenie Doublewood scotch, and Alex followed me toward the bar at the far side of the room to help. For a group that never seemed to get drunk, they sure were aficionados of distilled spirits. No cheap crap for them—not even mid-range brand names—only the expensive stuff would do. We gathered the libations, along with some other kind of pricey scotch for Alex. I was drinking iced tea; there was no way for a mere human to keep up with these inter-dimensional guzzlers. When everyone was served, Karttyx took a long sip of her Mezcal.

  “Excellent choice, Hailey. It is delicious.” She tossed down the remainder of the amber liquid and heaved a contented sigh. Winking, she handed me the empty glass and said, “Bring the bottle this time. I can’t wait to finish it so I can sample the prize.”

  “I can’t say I’m looking forward to watching you munch on an arthropod,” I commented as I refilled the glass, “but as long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

  “You should have a taste—it is delicious—and I’m sure the scorpion is no different than eating a soft-shelled crab.”

  I presented Karttyx with the replenished drink and the bottle. “I think I’ll pass. I like my alcohol vermin-free, and I’ve never eaten a soft-shelled crab.” The idea of crunching through some crustacean’s outer skeleton always seemed kind of gross. “Plus, as a woman I should limit my alcohol intake. Too much can effect calcium uptake and lead to osteoporosis.” I added the last part as an afterthought. What’s the point of getting a Master’s degree if you can’t spice up the conversation once in a while with an obscure physiologic tidbit.

  “I doubt you will have to worry about such things,” she remarked as she downed her second double shot. “Yterixa have the enviable quality of rejuvenation with every form-bend. I can’t imagine that you would not also have this ability. Sebastian, have you investigated if Hailey can heal herself?”

  “I haven’t done any intensive assessments, but I have noted that any lacerations or contusions she had prior to a transformation are healed when she returns to human form. Alex, have you noticed that as well? I am sure your view of her is much more comprehensive than mine.”

  “Wait, what?” I sputtered. Completely confused, I examined the skin on my arms. Come to think of it, I did have a nasty scratch from a run-in with a cactus a few days before. It was nothing too serious, but it was a couple of inches long. Now, however, the flesh was smooth and there was no sign of any injury. I narrowed my eyes at Sebastian. “What the hell are you talking about, and why have you been keeping track of my cuts and bruises?”

  “First, stop looking at me as if I was stalking you, my dear. It was merely an observation. And second, your use of expletives does nothing but reveal a deficient vocabulary. You should not rely on conversational crutches.”

  My first instinct was to bark back “asshole,” but as that would do nothing but prove Sebastian’s assertion, I kept the profanity to myself this time. Alex moved closer and scrutinized my upper leg which, as a result of my choice of shorts for the evening, was readily visible.

  “You are correct, Sebastian. She had a bruise on her inner thigh. In the time frame between when she developed it and now, there should be at least some residual discoloration, but there isn’t even the slightest yellowing.”

  Yes, the bruise I got when Alex hoisted me over his head to lavish me with some exuberant oral gratification. I wasn’t sure what was more uncomfortable, having everyone staring way too close to my crotch or recalling how I got the bruise in the first place while everyone was staring near my crotch. But I had transformed afterward.

  “Does that apply only to minor stuff?” I wondered aloud.

  “Well,” Sebastian began, “in general, Yterixa can heal almost any injury, short of decapitation of course, if they can successfully bend. It is unclear if you have that ability.”

  He took a sip of his scotch, but didn’t explain further. Sebastian must have sensed my need for more information—my frown and the impatient foot tapping probably gave it away—because he smiled and added, “We could shoot you and see if you recovered after transforming, but that seems a tad extreme to know for certain.”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary,” Alex answered, placing a protective arm around my shoulder. “You seem surprised by this, carisa. Didn’t Hewlyxnathin go over this with you?”

  “Actually, no. He didn’t.” I thought for a moment. “Or maybe he did. I’ve had so much information thrown at me recently that it’s hard to keep it all straight.” I noticed Sebastian seemed annoyed that I wasn’t completely up to snuff on Yterixa lore. “Hey, it’s not like he provided a textbook I can reference.” Dripping sarcasm, I added, “Maybe there’s a phone app available to categorize my newly acquired abilities.”

  Sebastian chuckled. “You never know, there are applications that appeal to a very select number of people. I could probably write one just for you. We can call it ‘Angry Birds’. Oh, wait, someone beat me to it.”

  “Sebastian, you just
made a joke,” I teased. “That may be a first.”

  “I can be quite jocular when the mood strikes, my dear.”

  “Anyone who uses the word ‘jocular’ probably isn’t,” I pointed out.

  Sebastian started to reply, but Alex interrupted. He was probably trying to prevent another one of our spirited squabbles in front of company. “So, Karttyx, I suppose you aren’t here just for the hospitality?”

  “Quite right. This business with the murders in North Carolina has the Glyzimutitch Zolmere in an uproar. Justifiably, of course, but they are pressuring us to solve the problem sooner rather than later.”

  The Glyzimutitch Zolmere was the ruling body of the government of Alenquai, the Courso kingdom that encompassed what we call North and Central America. There were seven other kingdoms, all with equally difficult-to-pronounce names. Alex’s parents were the king and queen of Alenquai, and much like the royalty in Europe, they were more like glorified figureheads than rulers. Alex wasn’t heir to the throne—that honor belonged to his older brother, Kynkyzalyxch—but he chafed at all the unearned deference that went with his position and joined the Xyzok to get away from all the brown-nosing. I hadn’t known I was dating a prince until I travelled to Coursodon, but the cat was pretty much out of the bag when random people practically soiled themselves at the joy of being near a member of the royal family.

  I listened as the three compared notes and bounced ideas off one another. It was kind of fascinating being privy to the inner workings of a criminal investigation. Unlike my only other experience with such conversations—what was depicted on television—the dynamics did not include pinning index cards or photographs of suspects to a board. Instead, they utilized some computer program that Alex helped develop to try to discover patterns or clues that might be otherwise missed. Not a particularly magical technique, but we were in the human dimension. Their conclusion was, with the little information available, neither newfangled software, nor more traditional brainpower, was much help at this point.

  “Unfortunately, I fear we must wait until he surfaces again,” Karttyx complained. “I am concerned that he seems to have dropped off the face of the Earth as it were. Any ideas regarding how that happened?”

  Alex and Sebastian glanced at each other and shook their heads. “It is perplexing,” Sebastian replied. “And disturbing, I agree. I have no theories on how that is possible. Even someone with powerful magic who could mask themselves should still leave a ripple as they pass from one dimension to another.”

  “What if they didn’t leave, but are still masking themselves?” I offered.

  Alex smiled at me. “That’s a reasonable conclusion, but hiding ones magical signature is one of the most difficult and taxing endeavors. No one is capable of maintaining concealment over that long a period.”

  Karttyx nodded enthusiastically. “Indeed. That is why you are such an asset, Hailey. As long as you are in your Yterixa form, you cannot be detected. And you can remain a bird for much, much longer than someone could cloak their essence.”

  Me, having no magical signature while in bird form, made the perfect scout. At least in theory. So far, all I’d accomplished was seeing the gruesome carnage and reporting back. The Xyzok had me on retainer, and I appreciated the work and the salary, but I had my doubts that their money was well spent. “I never manage to get anywhere before the body parts start accumulating. I’m not sure how much help I am.”

  Karttyx took my hands in hers. “Hailey, I am convinced that you will one day become one of our most powerful weapons.”

  5

  Alex’s jaw clenched. I could tell he was trying to maintain a blank expression, but it was abundantly clear that he was not pleased by Karttyx’s proclamation. Karttyx didn’t make eye contact with him, but must have anticipated Alex’s angst, because she immediately added, “You know it is the truth, Alexander.”

  He blew out a long breath. “She isn’t trained for this kind of work. So far, Hailey hasn’t been placed in any truly dangerous situations, but to ask her to do any more than surveillance is ill-advised.”

  “I think it is up to Hailey,” Karttyx chided. She released my hands, but her piercing gaze held mine in much the same firm way. “You do not need to decide now, of course. But know that I believe that you were meant for this type of work. And I do not make such pronouncements often.”

  I was both intrigued and a little freaked out. In the short amount of time I had been doing my part for the Courso enforcers, I’d never been so engaged in any job. Sure, milking chinchilla for an artisanal cheese company had its moments, and working in a laboratory was satisfying on occasion. Even a short stint as a fortune cookie fortune composer was moderately interesting, until I had a disagreement with my boss and decided to “inadvertently” print and distribute a few thousand “Your meal is free!” fortunes. But the whole Xyzok routine challenged me mentally and physically. I finally felt useful. I got to help people. They didn’t know I was helping them, but you couldn’t have everything.

  At the same time, I was painfully aware of how much I didn’t know. Not just the myriad of Courso lore about which I was ignorant, but general protocols for undercover ops. I had no clue how to protect myself, other than utilizing my somewhat unpredictable power to destroy. Sebastian had taught me to control it, but I wasn’t exactly an arcane sharpshooter. And when I was a bird, I wasn’t able to zap anything. Frankly, while my beak and talons might be a dandy weapon for dispatching a rabbit, I had my doubts about how effective that would be against a person.

  “What did you have in mind?” I asked, tamping down my misgivings.

  “We can sort out the details as we go. I want you to do what you feel comfortable doing, but I’d like you to work with us full time.” Karttyx smiled in a grandmotherly sort of way. Or maybe great-great-great grandmotherly. She was way older than Sebastian, and he was over two hundred and fifty. At least, I assumed she was older. She was the oldest-looking Courso I’d ever seen, with silvery hair and a few wrinkles here and there. A human would be pleased to have her skin when they were forty. She looked like she was sixty but was probably pushing four hundred. She must have remembered to use moisturizer when she was younger, I thought absent-mindedly. She inclined her head toward Alex and added, “And I’m sure Alexander will have an opinion or two.”

  “Well, I think it is a splendid idea,” Sebastian said, beaming. My exploits, at least the positive ones, were a source of pride for him. I was sort of like the child he never had. If I thought my own parents had messed me up, I could only imagine what being an actual child of Sebastian’s would have done to me. It was the best of both worlds for him—he got to feel parental without any of the hard stuff that usually comes with parenting, like the terrible twos and adolescent female hormone fluxes.

  Alex crossed his arms and frowned at his mentor. “Don’t encourage her; there is much to discuss before she can make a considered decision.”

  “What is there to discuss? She is capable and obviously willing. Just look at her.” Sebastian gestured toward me and everyone, even the bodyguards, gave me the once-over.

  I wasn’t sure what I had been conveying, but I tried my best to appear neutral. “I admit, it’s intriguing, but I haven’t made up my mind.” Alex still had a pained expression, like he’d eaten a lot of greasy food and had hellacious heartburn. I laced my fingers in his and reassured him by whispering, “Your input is important to me. Let’s talk about this later.” I’m not sure if that helped any, but at least he didn’t look like he needed an antacid.

  Karttyx slapped her hands on her knees. “Enough of this, I’m famished. Let us go find some local culinary delights.” She nodded toward her guards, and one silently exited the house. “We’ll take my vehicle,” she announced as she stood. “If they have to follow us while we drive in yours, they will have a fit. A quiet one, but a fit nonetheless.”

  We piled into the Escalade and stopped at one of my favorite spots for Mexican fare. We feasted on chimichangas and g
reen corn tamales. For dessert, Karttyx was introduced to one of the greatest meal-enders ever created—the sopapilla.

  A large triangle of warm, fried, puffed dough, made even more perfect when one tip was removed and honey was dripped into the hollow inside. In New Mexico, they were often served with the meal, like bread, which seems quite smart and cultured to me. Karttyx practically inhaled an entire basketful herself, and then ordered another to take back to Sebastian’s. By the time we pulled into the driveway, Karttyx had polished off those as well. I wasn’t watching when the restaurant manager agreed to let her take the little pitcher of honey, but I assumed she used some kind of magical persuasion. Hopefully, there was a magical means to get rid of the sticky mess she left in the back seat, because honey was a bitch to clean up, particularly off fancy leather.

  It wasn’t until we got back that I remembered Rufus. Crap. I hope he didn’t bark the whole time we were gone. I consoled myself with the knowledge that, with the nearest neighbors acres away, even if he had howled for hours, it was unlikely he bothered anyone. Still, I crossed my fingers that if he did have any separation anxiety, he took it out on the various items purchased for just that kind of a scenario. I snuck away to check on his—and the patio’s—well-being. No sense alerting Sebastian to a possibility his stuff had been ripped to shreds by a despondent dog.

  My worries were, happily, unfounded. Rufus was asleep on the new bed, his head resting on the bolster that made up the arms of the fake sofa I’d purchased for his lounging enjoyment. He looked peaceful and content. Disaster averted.

  The remainder of the evening was spent rehashing everything we knew—which turned out to be not much—about the hikers’ killer. There are a number of ways the Courso could commit crimes against a human using their supernatural abilities. They could get someone to give them all their money and not remember who they gave it too. Hell, they could make them forget they had money to begin with. Even the wimpiest Courso was stronger and faster than a human, so some resorted to more physical means of predation. That was less likely because it was much easier to use magical obfuscation to get what you wanted. Unfortunately, there were always a few whack-jobs who just enjoyed hurting people.