Fire and Fantasy: a Limited Edition Collection of Epic and Urban Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  They sat in the car in silence, not turning on the ignition despite the chilliness. The cold and quiet helped ease Cassie’s mind, until the headache faded. They’d been friends for five years, long enough for Zoey to have witnessed the purple energy and the paralyzing headaches. But, it had never been so extreme before, and never both at the same time.

  “What was it?” Zoey asked finally, flicking a hand to the window. “That was the weirdest shit I’ve ever seen.”

  Cassie shook her head, not knowing what to say. After some deep breaths, she said, “I don’t know, Zo, I really don’t.” She drew an X on the fogged up windshield, then banged her fist on the dashboard. “Aura my ass, this has to be something else. It’s getting worse and I need to find help. Real help.” When the silence lingered too long, she scrunched her brows and added in a lighter tone, “Did the psychic call me the Devil?”

  Zoey snickered. “Technically, it was ‘El Diablo’.”

  “Wow, how’s that for a stereotype?” Cassie scratched her head.

  “Seriously, walking cliché.” The tension broke as Zoey started the car, then turned on the heat. Leaning back against the headrest, she added, “We need a drink or two...or ten.”

  “Yeah, for sure. But, I’ve got work tomorrow and I need sleep before dealing with Mr. Turpis.” Cassie laughed, forcing the burden on her heart to lift a bit. “Besides, I’m a lightweight.”

  “The best kind, a cheap date, right?” Zoey raised her finger in the air. “No. Don’t answer.”

  “Wasn’t gonna.” Cassie smiled, but the happiness disintegrated. Am I ever going to be okay? She didn’t have the heart to voice the concern to her friend, so she kept the smile plastered on her face. The wind blew cold through the open side window. What the hell else could happen?

  Two

  Cassie was determined to spend the next day basking in the bliss of positive energy where nothing could touch her. Sure. And pigs would start flying any moment now. A gloomy chuckle as she hurried along the narrow semi-industrial road toward her job. Yesterday’s little episode and the intense headache had wiped her out and she barely dragged herself out of bed.

  “Late, as usual. Damn! Damn! Damn!”

  No wonder the little hostess job at the diner was about the only job she could keep, despite a college degree burning holes in her finances. The thought made her laugh out loud. She picked up the pace, forcing her exhausted body to get into a rhythm and her mind to keep up. A slice of sun cut through the overcast sky as if lending brief assistance.

  The dark blue sign of Chez Hudson came into view a few minutes later, its large glass windows following her with accusation as she crossed the road. She stuck her tongue out at them--and at the annoying man of a boss inside, who was probably yelling at some poor soul in the kitchen, before he would switch gears and scream at her for being late. Cassie sighed, her heart beating a double staccato, as she ducked down and walked in almost a crouch under the windows to get to the back of the low square building. Maybe if Mr. Turpis didn’t see her entering late, it’d be easier to make up an excuse.

  She almost made it to the back entrance when her hand scraped on a nail sticking out of the wall. Blood welled up, but it wasn’t the pain that made Cassie swear. A dark purple cloud swirled above the small wound. The skin around it tightened and grew hot. As she watched in horror, the wound stitched itself together.

  “Holy shit!” Her voice sounded taut and desperate to her own ears. “I can’t deal with this today. I seriously can’t.”

  Before she could utter another curse, the metal door swung open and Zoey’s concerned face appeared out of the gloom of the kitchen.

  “It’s about time you showed up,” the other woman exclaimed in a loud whisper. Cassie would have laughed at the absurdity of that but humor was fast escaping her this morning. “I was about to call you,” Zoey continued. “Are you okay? I mean, after yesterday and all…” She trailed off.

  Cassie forced a smile for her friend’s benefit and gave her a quick hug.

  “I’m fine, Zo,” she said, brushing past to enter the building. A lonely chef with a baby face was cooking at the large stove. He exchanged a quick nod with Cassie before turning back to his pans.

  “Mr. Turpis is in rare form today.” Zoey said, catching up and placing a hand on her shoulder.

  “Crap. I can’t lose this job.”

  “You’re not losing anything” She gave Cassie’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Not today, and not on my watch.”

  “Zoey. What are you doing back there?” Mr. Turpis bellowed from the hall. “Hiding in the kitchen is not what I’m paying you to do!”

  “Just a minute,” sang back Zoey in her sweetest voice. “Cassie’s jacket button broke and I’m just helping her fix it up.”

  “Cassie?” Their pudgy boss appeared in the kitchen, his round sweaty face warped in a sneer. “Where’ve you been?”

  All hope of keeping her job faded into oblivion. Cassie stared open-mouthed at her boss. His baldhead gleamed in the kitchen’s fluorescent lights. Stubby hands balled into fists and rested on his flabby waist.

  After a moment of silence, Mr. Turpis repeated louder, “I asked, where’ve you been?”

  “I didn’t want to upset you,” Cassie said. She lowered her eyes to the floor trying to look repentant. “I thought it would be better to rush to the back and fix my outfit first, since the way we present ourselves to the customers is so important here.” The lie came without restraint, but a pain pressed down on her heart with each word. She hated lying and was not any good at it. Her mother had once caught her in a lie when she tried to blame missing cookies on a neighbor’s dog. She was only six at the time. Two days later, on her seventh birthday, both of her parents died in a car accident. Cassie had a hard time lying about anything after that day.

  “Well, I suppose it is better,” Mr. Turpis said as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pleated slacks. “Just hurry it up. The busboy is out today, and I’ll need you to help set up and clear tables.” He shook a finger in Cassie’s general direction and stomped out of the kitchen. The cabbage soup and fried pork scent followed him out.

  Cassie’s breath whooshed out. Working in a diner as she headed into her late twenties wasn’t exactly her dream career path, but she needed this job to pay the bills. “I thought he was gonna fire me.” She gave Zoey a half-hearted smile, the best she could manage as she fought for composure. “Thanks for the save.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Zoey waved her hand in a dismissing gesture. “It’s not a big deal.” With a shrug, she continued, “Not so shocked you’re late this morning anyway. In fact, I’m wondering why you’re here at all. You should be resting.” She fidgeted with her sleeve. “Are you really okay?”

  Cassie hesitated. The image of the weird shadow after her...incident...still remained fresh in her mind. Not to mention, the old woman’s cryptic words, the psychic’s freak out, the vision of that naked man, the unrelenting purple aura...aw hell. What do I tell her?

  “Cassie, sweetie, it’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.” Zoey nodded weakly.

  The show of support made her decision easy. Not a damn thing. She’s been scared enough. Attempting another smile, she said, “I promise, I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

  “Uh-huh. I’ll let it go for now.” A smile shot across her friend’s face. “Only because I have a great idea!” Zoey burst into the main room and glanced at the tables. No one around. Grinning like a kid, she leaned against the hostess’ stand and motioned for Cassie to take up residence.

  “I’m afraid,” Cassie said laughing. “An empty diner gives you way too much time.”

  She stood behind the stand and set the menus in order. Shifting the wrapped utensils in the wicker basket below occupied her for another few seconds.

  “Ready now?” Zoey tapped her foot to a silent, yet upbeat tune. When Cassie didn’t answer, she continued, “Good. Now, I’m thinking dancing, or better yet, a date.”

  Cassie slamme
d the menus against the wooden stand. “Zo.”

  “No. Don’t start, Cas. You’re not getting out of this. You never date anyone. You never hit the clubs with me.” She pouted her lips and rubbed the tip of the counter. “Is it fair I should be partying without my best friend? And you are too young to be a hermit!”

  “I’m not a hermit, Zo. I’m just not in a very social mood. Plus do I have to remind you of the last time you dragged me out to a party?” Cassie’s nose twitched as she recalled the unhappy event.

  “What? A cute guy was trying to get you to go home with him? Oh, horror.” Zoey grabbed her cheeks with both hands and formed an O with her mouth.

  “He called me for the next two weeks. Every day. Even though I told him three times, I was busy. I didn’t pick up the rest of the time. You’d think he’d get a hint.”

  “You could’ve given him a chance. Is it so bad guys find you attractive? Oh, come on, just come party with me. Have a good time for a change.”

  “Partying leads to men. And I just don’t have the best of luck with them.” She grimaced recalling her own and only sweetheart, a college love…and a cheating bastard.

  “Sweetie, you won’t have better luck if you don’t put yourself out there.” Zoey leaned in closer. “Next time, you’re coming. Promise?”

  Cassie started to respond, but the bell over the front door halted the conversation. Over the next hour the diner picked up six tables. Cassie did her best to place them all in the same area. Not only did their busboy call in sick, but the diner’s other waitress, quit last night. Mr. Turpis was kind enough to wait until midmorning to inform Cassie and Zoey. Greedy pig. As Cassie let her thoughts wander over a fitting revenge plot, the purple energy flared up again.

  “Oh my God! This can’t be happening. Not now!” She shoved her hands in her jacket pocket, gunning for the bathroom. Locking the door behind her, she ran the cold water and soaked her hands under the icy current. “Go away, damn it! Go away!”

  Ten minutes later, the energy still hadn’t disappeared and Mr. Turpis pounded on the door. “Cassie. Get out here now or you’re fired!”

  “Just a minute!” Panic tightened inside her chest. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

  As the freezing water washed over her hands, she let the numbness calm her. With aching slowness, the energy pulled back into her palms and dissipated. The tingling sensation remained behind. She shut off the water and ran her hands under the dryer to warm them. “Shit that hurts.”

  “Cassie. This is the last warning.”

  “Coming!” She pulled her hands away from the soothing air and went out to face the boss.

  “What were you doing? Don’t you see the circus out here?”

  “Sorry, Mr. Turpis.” She tried to hide a grin as she thought of the perfect excuse. “Woman troubles.”

  He groaned. “Just get back to work.”

  The brute clunked back to his office. She headed back to her post to find Zoey looking wiped.

  “Hey, would you mind grabbing the water pitcher from our resident gossips?” Zoey said, motioning to the old ladies’ table in the corner. Her hand went to her chest as she tried to catch her breath. “They’ve already gone and the table needs to be wiped down. But, I’ve got to run to the ladies’ room.”

  “No problem.” Cassie gave a quick glance down the aisle to make sure the resident gossips, Mrs. Finney and Mrs. Dunblar, were really gone. She hadn’t seen them leave and didn’t want to be roped into long and boring small talk. When she was sure the booth was empty, she headed down to retrieve the water pitcher. It was the sole item Zoey couldn’t manage after clearing away all of the other plates and cups.

  Fate sometimes has a strange way of intervening, Cassie thought as the shock hit her. If Debbie hadn’t quit the previous evening, if the busboy hadn’t called in sick, if Zoey hadn’t gone to the bathroom, if their gossiping customers had tried another diner for once, if the water pitcher never made it to the table, then Cassie would have never been at the booth at the exact moment when he appeared. She wouldn’t have turned with the water pitcher in hand and stared out the diner’s large front window. She wouldn’t have seen his piercing eyes and the man staring back at her would have stayed in her dream.

  The sound of the water pitcher shattering on the floor echoed off the diner’s brick walls.

  Gabe watched the dark haired woman through narrowed eyes. His gaze never left her as he moved to the front door and stepped inside. The vibrations from the broken water pitcher rang in his ears mixing with the doorbell overhead and a man’s high-pitched shriek.

  “What was that?” A red-faced man appeared from behind a door marked Office. He scanned the diner and zeroed in on the broken pitcher. The man’s gaze moved to the dark haired woman and he shook a stubby finger in her direction. A violent chord rumbled through his voice. “It’s coming out of your paycheck.” Lucky for the man he ducked back into his office or Gabe might have hauled him off his feet and chucked him into the nearest wall--head first.

  Whoa. Where the hell did that come from? The innate protectiveness over the woman didn’t bode well for his solitary nature, but it did point him in the right direction. A quick, and irritating, reminder of why he was here. He clamped down on his emotions, a cold mask of pure control settling over his features.

  The woman turned away from him to pick up the pieces of the pitcher and wipe the spilled water with a towel. He motioned toward her, hand outstretched to help her to her feet when she finished, but caught himself and snatched his hand back. Easy. Settle. You don’t know anything yet. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against the wooden stand in front and waited for her.

  Rising to her feet once more, she walked toward him with eyes lowered. He could tell he made her uneasy, the feeling apparent through her spicy scent.

  “Welcome to Chez Hudson,” she mumbled, eyes still on the ground. “Table for one?”

  “For the present,” he said in a rich baritone, the sound unfamiliar to his ears. Even his voice was different in this place.

  Her gaze drew up his body, taking him in. His adrenaline spiked. When their eyes met, she gasped. A light pink stained her cheeks. The air between them charged with energy, a lightening he could almost feel on his skin. Silent moments passed between them, before she tore away and studied the floor again.

  “Your waitress will be right with you,” she said, voice small and timid uttering the rehearsed phrase.

  “You’re not my waitress?” He raised an eyebrow, suspecting she wanted to avoid his presence.

  “No, Sir. I’m the hostess.” Spinning on her heel, she gave a discreet nod to the waitress in the corner. The tall blonde practically skipped to the hostess’ stand as Gabe took his seat at a window booth. “Here’s a menu. I hope you enjoy your meal.”

  “Thanks.” He wanted to smile to put her more at ease, but the simple human gesture eluded him. His mood was just too damn dark to indulge in such annoying and unnecessary things. Yeah, well, you better get with the program if you ever want to get out of this hellhole, he thought as he watched her walk back to her stand.

  The blonde squeezed the dark haired woman’s arm and whispered the second she was within striking distance. Gabe’s ears perked up while he glanced over the menu and eavesdropped on the conversation.

  “Cas, did you talk with that fine male specimen?” The blonde said as she peeked over the stand in his direction.

  “Lower your voice, Zoey,” Cassie said, pulling her friend further behind the stand. Under her breath, she mumbled, “First party talk, now her man alert’s gone off. Great!”

  This time, Gabe couldn’t help but smile.

  “Oh, come on, Cassie, even you can appreciate that…”

  The one called Zoey sauntered over, hips swaying with each step. She was gorgeous but his instinct told him she wasn’t it. No, it had to be the other one, the dark haired woman, Cassie. He was almost certain.

  Zoey went over the breakfast specials with a sultry flare. G
abe raised an eyebrow. His human form seemed to be as impressive to women as his original one. Without glancing at the menu, he picked the Big Breakfast Special, then turned his attention back to watching Cassie. Focus. Don’t waste time, just get it done. He stared at her hard. His eyes narrowed. Little currents of energy buzzed at his fingertips. He had to touch her to be sure.

  Gabe rose, waiting for her to finish with the customer, then strode toward her with confident steps. She didn’t see him coming and shuddered the moment he laid his hand on her shoulder. A strong electric current ran through him, making his heart thump and little beads of sweat slide down his back. He had his confirmation.

  Cassie stared at him like a frightened deer, her hazel eyes wide. Her breath hitched. The sound ignited his blood like an erotic caress.

  “Where’s the men’s room, please?” Gabe asked after his senses relaxed. Something inside him made him wonder at the lost look in her eyes. So fragile. He trampled the thought and firmed his resolve. He didn’t give a damn.

  “In the back, to the right,” Cassie pointed the direction, and he slowly walked away.

  In the bathroom he made sure he was alone before slamming his fist into the wall, leaving a small dent behind. How could this happen? He was a warrior, meant to always be one. If he only followed the rules, he wouldn’t be here, trying to figure out what human he had to baby-sit and why.

  He stared at his reflection in the mirror. But he was here. And he had a mission. He needed to pull himself together and approach it like he would approach any other operation. Do it fast. Do it efficiently. And get the hell out.

  By the time Gabe got back to his seat, Zoey reappeared and covered every part of the table with his meal. The spread smelled and looked like heaven. Scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes, a tall glass of orange juice and a cup of steaming black coffee beckoned him with magical aroma`. A little bottle filled with amber-colored syrup and a small plate with butter completed the picture. Gabe felt the rumbling in his stomach grow forceful.