Special Attraction (The Coursodon Dimension Book 3)

by M. L. Ryan

  Sensing my lack of certitude, he leaned closer and said confidently, “Soon, no one will doubt. In the meantime, I will probably pass the time by dispatching a few more humans in some grisly manner.”

  I frowned. “You said you killed the hikers to attract the Xyzok’s attention. Believe me, they are fully engaged. You don’t have to kill anyone else.”

  “Perhaps not, but I discovered that I rather enjoy it.”

  I pushed back into the chair to put as much distance as possible between us but, frankly, the additional inch of space didn’t exactly make me feel any safer. Hopefully, he intended to let me go because my options seemed pretty limited. I might be able to zap him, but the last time I tried that, the wacko exploded and set my house on fire. There wasn’t much that seemed flammable—just the chairs, really. But since there didn’t seem to be any obvious way out of here, I didn’t want to risk it. And my only other magical talent, transforming into a hawk, was equally unlikely to help me escape, given the paucity of exits. Besides, he thought I was a human-Courso half-breed, and thus would have no arcane abilities. I didn’t want to divulge all my secrets if I didn’t have to.

  Maybe he’s just delusional, and I should placate him as much as possible, I reasoned. “I will be happy to pass on that information as soon as I get back. And speaking of which, if that’s all you want me to convey, I’d appreciate it if you could send me back. People are probably wondering where I am. It’s daytime, so I must have been unconscious for a while.”

  He stood and again offered his hand, which I accepted. “I understand your desire to return home. And you shall. Inter-dimensional travel can be quite… disconcerting for those who are not accustomed to it.”

  We began to walk toward the area in which I had awakened. “This didn’t feel like any of the other times I’ve gone to or from Coursodon,” I countered. The asstard probably knocked me out or something.

  He arched one eyebrow and said, “That’s because you aren’t in Coursodon.”

  Not in Courso? Now I was completely confused. “Then where are we?”

  A sly grin spread across his face. “We are in the third dimension.”

  I wasn’t really sure why I was surprised. After everything I’d encountered recently, you’d think nothing could shock me anymore. Another dimension? Sure, why not? If there’s one parallel universe, why not two? What’s next, fairies and leprechauns?

  The disclosure literally stopped me in my tracks. He had walked ahead of me a few steps and when he realized I was just standing there, mouth agape, he turned and placed his hands on his hips.

  “Don’t tell me no one told you there was another dimension.”

  “It must have slipped their minds,” I quipped once I was able to form coherent words. I glanced around, hoping there might be a window that I’d overlooked before. There wasn’t, which was disappointing. As long as I was here, I wanted a peek at this dimension.

  He guided me to the rug, and instructed me to sit in the center. “Thank you for your cooperation,” he said, bowing slightly. “I shall be in touch.”

  The uncomfortable sensation I’d experienced prior to being snatched returned, except this time, instead of feeling like a heavy blanket was thrown over me, it was more like something thick and charged was being sucked out. Like being reverse-tased. For an instant, I could still see Doc Martens. I think he might have even waved. Then, there was only darkness and more crushing pain.

  7

  I knew I was back before I was completely awake. The scent of the desert—creosote and clean, crisp air—wafted over me, blessedly replacing the oppressive aroma of baked hair. And for about a second, I was content. That was how long it took to become aware of the excruciating throbbing in my head. This was worse, in fact, than the first time I had been forcibly shoved through dimensions. Now, along with a cranium that felt like it was being stabbed with a red-hot poker dipped in acid, I had the dry heaves. I didn’t want to, but I opened my eyes. Thankfully, for my head’s sake, it was dark. Afraid to move too much for fear of making the agony worse, I managed to roll over onto my side until at least the nausea subsided. My head still hurt like a bitch, but I needed to sit up and try to determine where the hell I was.

  To my dismay, merely rising to a semi-upright position wasn’t as helpful as I’d imagined. I’d hoped to see the city lights, but the surrounding trees prevented finding any such point of reference.

  “Shit,” I whimpered, and the intensified brain pain made me instantly regret I’d spoken aloud. It took another ten minutes for the suffering to recede from fucking horrible to merely horrible.

  I knew to get my bearings that I needed to stand up. I tried, I really did. However, between the migraine and an overwhelming sense of soul-crushing fatigue, I was toast. Slumping back into the sandy soil, I patted my pockets, searching for my phone. It wasn’t there, and I couldn’t remember if I took it on the run or if it was lost in the abduction. Not that it really mattered, either way I couldn’t call for rescue. If I changed into a hawk, I’d likely be able to figure out where I was, but I knew I was too wonky to form-bend.

  To make matters worse, I was cold. All I had on was my running gear: shorts, a tee shirt, and a light, hooded sweatshirt, and that wasn’t going to cut it on a fall night in the desert. I did my best to drag myself toward a small stand of mesquite trees and laid down, hoping they might provide at least some shelter from the breeze. With the temperature in the mid-fifties, I wondered if it was possible to die of hypothermia under these conditions. I hoped not. After all the crap I’d been through lately, it would suck to succumb to exposure. Chuckling at the irony, I imagined my remains discovered only a few yards from some house because I was unable to move any further.

  I dozed for a while, roused by my chattering teeth. Just as the shivering became almost uncontrollable, there was a soft rustling in the bushes to my left. Between the darkness and my position, I couldn’t see a damn thing, but I could hear something moving towards me. Something big. Something with four legs.

  The good news was I had reached the point of not caring what might be sneaking up. The bad news was now I could see a pair of really huge, tawny paws planted about two feet from my face. The wind shifted, and I was bombarded with the pungent smell of cat urine. As the feline moved with slow, precise steps ever closer, I squeezed my eyes shut and repeated over and over, I hope it’s not hungry. I hope it’s not hungry.

  An enormous, whiskered muzzle jammed against my shoulder. I could hear it inhaling my scent. It raised its head, made a soft chucking sound deep in its throat, then turned around and curled up against me.

  The cat’s body was blissfully warm. I let out the breath that I had been holding and relaxed into the rough fur. “Thanks,” I said softly, then drifted off to sleep, serenaded by its deep, rumbling purr.

  I dreamt I was being born. I was in a dark, warm place. Comfortable. Protected. I glanced at the translucent walls that surrounded me and could vaguely make out graffiti-like scribbling that read, “This is my womb, KEEP OUT!” I knew it had been written by my sister Teresa, who was just one year older than I was and had always had issues with sharing. My mother’s melodic heartbeat was soothing, and I began to tap my tiny foot to its rhythm.

  Without warning, the steady thumps changed into the drum solo from the Surfari’s oldie-but-goodie classic, Wipeout, and I was unceremoniously flipped upside down and squeezed headfirst through a long tunnel. I could see a bright glow at the end of the passageway, and heard another sister, Sarah, shriek out, “Stay away from the light. Don’t go near the light.”

  Much as I wanted to heed her warning, I could not prevent myself from being hurled forward. Someone tried to stick feathers on my arms and was annoyed when I didn’t want to eat the regurgitated bratwurst they offered straight from their mouth to mine. Instead of a hearty smack on the butt, a doctor scrubbed my cheek with some abrasive cloth, like a loofa that smelled like rotten fish.

  I awoke to discover the loofa was, in fact, the s
andpaper tongue of my feline hot-water bottle. “Whoa, that’s some nasty morning breath you got there, my friend,” I sputtered as I tried to tuck my head out of lick range.

  The mountain lion was unfazed by my protestations, and flopped a heavy paw across my shoulders to prevent me from avoiding the bath. And I wasn’t about to make too big of a deal about it, seeing as my throat was a mere inches from the business end of some very long, sharp claws.

  My savior finished my grooming, stood up, stretched his sinewy body, and trotted a few yards away. He peed, scraped some dirt over the wet spot, and returned to curl up next to me. Thankfully, he concentrated his cleaning efforts on himself this time, and began to lick his legs and paws with much the same care as he had given my face.

  The sun had just risen, but it was still chilly, and I appreciated the continued warmth. When I realized my head pain had improved overnight, I decided to risk sitting up. Using my hands to slide myself up, I was pleased that the torturous throbbing didn’t resume. My relief, however, was interrupted by sounds of movement in the distance. The cat rose quickly and positioned himself between the approaching intruder and me, back arched and ears pressed close to his lowered head as the rustling sound grew closer.

  Out of the nearby brush barreled Rufus. As soon as he saw the cougar, his eyes grew wide and he skidded to an abrupt stop. It might have been funny, but the cat was now crouching and ready to pounce on my poor, terrified dog. Without really thinking, I grasped Mr. Kitty’s now swishing tail in an unlikely-to-be-successful effort to prevent him from attacking. He turned his head and glared at me, but somehow understood my meaning and relinquished his predatory stance.

  Seconds later, Alex crashed through the scrubby vegetation and mimicked Rufus’ screeching halt. He started to retrieve his gun from the back of his waistband when the cat, clearly unsettled by our expanding encounter group, simply turned and ran off. I watched as the mountain lion disappeared into the desert and lamented to myself, Just like a male. After all we’ve been through, not even a kiss goodbye.

  Alex replaced the weapon and ran over, fell to his knees, and hugged me as if he hadn’t expected to ever see me alive again. “You’re okay,” he repeated while rocking me back and forth in his exuberant embrace.

  Even though his reaction to finding me seemed a little over the top, considering I’d only been missing overnight, I was soaking up the affectionate reunion. Maybe he was just upset because I’d gone AWOL after we’d had a fight—our first, actually—and deeply regretted the argument. Whatever the explanation, I was happy to be in his arms and no longer the focus of his wrath.

  From the safety of Alex’s warm chest, I heard more footsteps and raised my head to see who else was part of the search party. Sebastian ran into the clearing and let out an audible sigh of relief when he saw me.

  “Thank whatever nonexistent deity humans worship these days. I was beginning to think we might never find you.” Sebastian yanked a cell phone from his pocket, punched a button, and barked, “Aiden, we have her. I’m sending you the coordinates now. Bring the jeep as close as you can. Tell Cortez and the others to stand down and inform Karttyx.”

  He ended the call, then texted what I assumed were the latitude and longitude of our location. That task completed, he replaced the phone and stood watching Alex and me, still wrapped together on the ground. Sebastian offered me a drink of water from his canteen, and the cool liquid trickling down my parched throat was just what I needed. I greedily downed the entire contents without taking a breath or worrying about the amount of water spilling onto my sweatshirt.

  When I finished reveling in rehydration, I met Sebastian’s intense gaze. “Thanks. I guess I was thirstier than I thought.”

  Sebastian took a step away from me and shielded his face with his hand. “I do not in any way wish to convey that I am unhappy to see you, my dear, but why do you smell like a very filthy litter box?”

  I briefly explained how the cougar acted as a live heating pad. Spending the night snuggling next to Mr. Big Kitty must have done a number on my sniffer because I didn’t smell the pungent scent of urine anymore. I had to hand it to Alex—he was way closer to me than Sebastian, and he didn’t seem the least bit put off by my stench.

  I took a deep breath, content to be safe. “Sorry I stink, but I’m really, really happy to see you guys,” I said finally. Rufus, who had been standing guard off to the side, wagged his long tail and plopped down next to me in the dirt. “I’m happy to see you too,” I chuckled, ruffling the brown curls on his pointy ears.

  Alex smiled and patted Rufus’ broad withers. “If it weren’t for him, we might not have found you this morning. Last night, he started going crazy—barking and scratching frantically at the door. When I let him out, he took off. I thought he might be chasing some animal, but he came back a few minutes later and wouldn’t stop howling until I followed him. He led us here, to you.”

  Hugging the dog’s neck, I praised his heroic efforts. “Good job, buddy. I knew there was a reason we found you. You’re like my knight in furry armor.”

  “He was quite useful,” Sebastian remarked. “So much so, I can overlook the damage he perpetrated while you were… away.”

  “Come on, how much could he destroy in one night?” I slowly stood up, and was pleased to discover I was less wobbly than I expected.

  Alex wrapped his arm around my waist. “Carisa, you weren’t gone for one night. You were missing for three days.”

  At first, I scoffed, “Yeah, right. And javelina are about to fly out my ass.” But one look at his furrowed brow told me he wasn’t joking. I checked out Sebastian, and he, too, wore an expression of concern. Gawking alternately at Alex, and then Sebastian, I whispered, “Three days? I was gone three days? It only seemed like a few hours, max.” Suddenly, being upright didn’t seem like such a great idea. “I think I need to sit down,” I warned as I leaned into Alex for support.

  Instead of guiding me to the ground, he dipped down, swept up my legs with his free arm, and carried me in the direction from which he, Sebastian, and Rufus had emerged. From this elevated perspective, I was able to take in my surroundings. Judging from the sloping terrain, we seemed to be in the foothills, and the view of the city let me know we were considerably west of my jogging route. I suppose, given the vastness of the universe, it was probably too much to expect Doc Martens to deposit me exactly where he’d snagged me.

  Alex carted me down the hills with Sebastian and Rufus following close behind. The sun had just popped up over the mountains, and its warm rays took away any residual chill from the night before. I almost fell asleep, but Alex’s voice roused me from my weariness.

  “What happened? I doubt you went on an unscheduled camping trip with no provisions or equipment.”

  Now cradled against Alex’s chest, I realized with all the worry about potentially succumbing to the elements coupled with the excitement of being rescued, I forgot to mention the whole kidnapped-and-taken-to-another-dimension thing.

  I let out a sigh. “It’s kind of complicated, and I’d rather tell it just once. Assuming Karttyx will be at the house, would you mind if we waited until we get back there?”

  Alex’s jaw tightened ever so slightly. It was obvious he had a bunch of questions to which he deserved answers, but except for a quiet “Of course,” in response to my plea for a short reprieve from story time, he stayed silent.

  It took about twenty minutes to hike to a dirt road where Aiden and the jeep were waiting. With four people and Rufus, it was a tight fit, but we actually weren’t that far from Sebastian’s, perhaps a couple miles tops, so the trip was brief. When we arrived, I insisted on walking inside. Not that I minded being nestled in Alex’s strong arms, but I figured it was the twenty-first century and no matter what the circumstances, a woman should only play the damsel in distress for a very short time.

  Karttyx had prepared some food for my return and the platter of fruit, cheese, cold chicken, and crusty French bread hit the spot. Dropping
down on one of the living room sofas, I savored every morsel. I was hungry for sure, but my appetite wasn’t what I’d expect for having not eaten in three days. Maybe I was without food for a much shorter period of time, but I’ve never been able to keep the time-space continuum stuff straight. It seemed that I had lost a few days, but contemplating whether my metabolic needs followed suit was too much to consider.

  Finally refreshed, it was time to tell the tale. Everyone listened with rapt attention—and similar narrow-eyed scowls—as I began to describe the abduction. I’d barely gotten past the part when I awakened before Alex interrupted.

  “Wait. Someone transported you to Coursodon a half mile from here?” He turned to Sebastian and Karttyx. “How is that possible? There is no inter-dimensional portal in the area, and even if someone risked not using a portal, we’d have detected the magic when they traveled to Courso.”

  The three Xyzok commenced a rather lively debate on the logistical improbability of my story, the details of which were mostly beyond my comprehension. “Hey!” I shouted over their heated discussion. “I never said I was in Courso.”

  “Then where were you, carisa?” Alex asked, scowling more than before.

  “He said it was the third dimension.”

  “Dekankara?” Karttyx gasped.

  Sebastian and Alex stared at me, and then looked at each other.

  “Fuck,” they both spat simultaneously.

  8

  The immature part of me wanted to reprimand Sebastian for resorting to a “conversational crutch” but seeing all the color drain from his face made me hold my tongue. Everyone started speaking at once and, eventually, Karttyx made the group shut up so they could pepper me with questions one at a time instead of continuing the free for all. I explained the encounter with Doc Martens: how he admitted to killing the hikers, the message of doom he wanted me to deliver to Courso, and his newfound penchant for murder.