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

by CK Dawn

  “What happened to her?” The elf demanded. “What was that light? What are you?”

  Frustration made his skin crawl, “I don’t know. Please, let me focus.”

  She was breathing, at least. The soft rise and fall of her chest eased the ache in his. He rubbed his face, his mind racing. She was alive, but what the hell had just happened?

  All he remembered was the pain, and the light.

  Her skin was cold. She was still in the swim top and board shorts she’d grabbed from the swim shop. Going to her luggage, he rummaged around until he found a long, thick cardigan sweater.

  Carefully, he threaded her arms through it and wrapped it around her waist.

  “Poseidon,” Agathon swore, from where he was leaning against the balcony railing.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know what you are Wash,” Agathon glanced up at him, “but whatever you have going on, you’ve attracted the wrong kind of attention.”

  Wash sighed. “That seems to be my story lately. Who is it now?”

  “Two Osiris vans… looks like his high-priestess is here.”

  “I literally have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. Turning back to Caitlin he tried to coax her awake again. He picked up her hand and rubbed it between his own.

  “Humans,” Agathon muttered. “If she doesn’t wake up I’m handing you over to them.”

  Wash snorted. “Because you’re the one in complete control of this situation, right?”

  The elf shot him a dark look, teeth bared, but Wash had already blocked him out.

  Caitlin, wake up, he willed her.

  Her eyes opened. “Wash?”

  Wash let out a heavy sigh of relief. “Cait, are you okay?”

  “I think so… I’m just so tired. Did Agathon say Osiris?”

  Wash glanced at her husband for confirmation. Confusion was his normal state today, and trying to figure out what was going on seemed pointless.

  “What did you see, Caitlin?” Agathon asked.

  She shook her head. “Wash, strawberries, please.” Her voice shook and she had to clear it several times even to speak.

  He leaped up, leaving her side to look for the cart they’d eaten from the day before.

  Of course, housekeeping had taken it away when they came to make up the bed and tidy up, but they had left a dome-covered platter on the table.

  Strawberries.

  Thank you, Alfredo, he thought fervently.

  “Caitlin, have you lost your mind? Hetepheres will be here any moment and Osiris doesn’t send his high-priestess for social gatherings. Is this human worth it? Let’s just hand him over.”

  High priestess? Osiris? Wash couldn’t even process the head of the world’s largest tech company and a former god of Egypt having any interest in him. He grabbed a handful of strawberries and returned to Caitlin’s side.

  “What the hell does she want with me?” Wash asked, dropping three of the strawberries into Caitlin’s hand.

  “I’ll explain later.” She grasped her astéri with one hand. “Bob?”

  Agathon threw his hands up and marched to the door muttering. “This is madness. What are you doing now?”

  Wash knew the spirit of the Marriott liked strawberries and it seemed to like Caitlin. She squeezed the fruit to a pulp which flowed out between her fingers.

  What can I do?

  The disembodied voice chilled Wash’s spine. He didn’t jump this time but it still freaked him out.

  “There is a powerful woman coming here. Can you slow her down? Maybe make the lift stop working?”

  It is she. The voice rumbled with distaste. I will aid you, with pleasure.

  A cold wind rustled past him and through the now open door. Agathon waited with one hand on the frame.

  “Wash, I need you to carry me, I’m too weak.”

  He shot a glance at her husband, but the elf didn’t seem to feel any particular responsibility to his wife—whatever weird elf dynamic they had going on—so Wash complied.

  “Stairs,” she whispered as he scooped her into his arms. Every line of her face was etched with exhaustion as if each word took monumental effort.

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this for a human,” Agathon muttered.

  Wash lost his temper. “Shut up or step up,” he snapped at the elf. “Are you going to help your wife, or are you going to just stand there sneering at her?” He looked down at Caitlin. “Is this how elves do things? ‘Cause it sucks.”

  Agathon froze, his jewel-like eyes flashing darkly at Wash. Maybe yesterday Wash would have regretted his words, but right now he was past caring.

  “Hades,” Agathon muttered. “Fine. Follow me.” He ducked out into the hallway.

  Wash ducked through sideways, careful not to bump Caitlin’s head against the door frame. The lithe elf with the bizarre, armless suit was already down the hall at the head of the stairs. Forty feet and the man had covered it like it was ten.

  Agathon looked back, waving at them impatiently, and Wash picked up the pace. The elf threw the stairwell door open, and then immediately leaped backward.

  Two dark, burly men burst through the doorway. Each of them wore black uniforms with stylized golden ‘O’s embroidered on the front.

  Rebounding off the wall, Agathon kicked the first one in the throat before dropping to the ground to sweep the others legs out from under the other one. They both fell backward through the doorway.

  Agathon sprang through after them, and Wash heard something heavy tumbling down the stairs amidst a chorus of groans.

  Wash hadn’t moved more than three feet, and both men were down.

  “Come on!” the elf hissed at him.

  Wash held Caitlin more tightly to his chest and ran. He took the steps two at a time, trying not to bump her head.

  He cleared the first landing, stepping over the downed men. Agathon was leaping from railing to railing, using them like a ladder to descend down the center shaft of the stairwell. Moments later, he was on the bottom.

  Wash stared after him, boggled at the amount of skill and agility he had just seen.

  “Pompous ass, but he’s the best Atlantis has,” Caitlin said, her voice breaking into a cough.

  Wash took the stairs four at a time, not daring to go more quickly for fear that he might trip and injure Caitlin. His thighs burned as he descended. By the time he hit the fifth floor, his whole body ached. He shifted Caitlin slightly to give his arms some relief, but there was no relief for his legs.

  After an eternity, he reached the ground floor, and could barely walk through the stairwell door.

  The crowded lobby paid no mind to him as he burst in. Glancing around for Agathon, he spotted the elf by the entrance to the parking garage. The only problem was the twenty meters of open lobby between him and there. Surely carrying a limp Caitlin through that space would raise some concern.

  There was nothing else to do. Pretending that he carried beautiful women through hotel lobby’s every day, Wash turned sideways to fit through the door and made for the exit. He cradled her next to him thinking small thoughts.

  “That’s him,” he heard a man say. The next sound sent a shiver down his spine. As a navy man, he hadn’t spent a lot of time with weapons training. However, as a Virginian, he knew exactly what the sound a pistol made when the slide was yanked back. He broke off into a run.

  Ahead, Agathon swore as he saw Wash coming, and stepped aside to make room for him.

  The elf raised his right hand, and a burning blue light sprang from it to form a line in the air. When the light vanished, Agathon was holding a glowing silver sword in one hand.

  He strode past Wash, swishing the blade through the air.

  Wash had just processed the sword when the click/bang of gunfire exploded behind him.

  “Pathetic human,” Agathon hissed. Wash turned sideways to get Caitlin through the door to the garage. His heart pounded as he fumbled with the handle, unable to believe they’d missed at suc
h short range.

  The door opened and he burst through. Another bang, followed by three more. He ducked around the cinder block wall and started for the stairs to the garage.

  Agathon backed through the door. There was another bang, and his sword flashed. Kicking the door shut, he ran the blade along the edge where the metal door and frame met. Sparks showered outward.

  “What was that?” Wash asked as he made the garage level.

  Agathon passed him to open the door. “Spot welded the door shut. Did you think my blushing bride had all the tricks?”

  “Agathon, damn it, I am not your bride—blushing or otherwise,” Caitlin snapped.

  “I was first attracted to her demure personality, you know,” Agathon said conversationally.

  As weirded out as Wash was by the whole thing, a sharp laugh escaped him anyway.

  “Really?” Caitlin said, shooting him a look.

  “Sorry,” he said, and then to Agathon, “her Aston only seats two.” He hadn’t thought beyond the garage. Agathon couldn’t ride with them. But… they would know what vehicle Caitlin drove.

  Wash spun back around to the door as if he expected Osiris himself to burst through. Maybe he could find a place to stash Caitlin, and then lead them off—

  The twin beeps of a car alarm sounded immediately followed by the roar of a gasoline engine starting.

  “Lucky for you, the flashy sports car thing really isn’t my style,” Agathon drawled. “Put her in back, I’ll drive.”

  Agathon’s ride might not have been a sports car, but it was definitely ostentatious. The huge SUV had six wheels and Wash had slide Caitlin in first, and then haul himself up into the back seat with her.

  The exterior of the SUV was a creamy pearlescent color, accented by an almost ridiculously immense chrome grill. Wash had seen diamond rings with less sparkle. The interior, of course, was all-leather and mahogany. Mahogany.

  “Atlanteans,” Wash muttered under his breath while he buckled Caitlin in. The four-way safety system pulled her tight against the seat.

  “Americans,” Agathon sneered back at him in the rear-view mirror.

  “Children…” Caitlin said with a sigh.

  Agathon threw the vehicle into drive and the big gas guzzling engine roared to life followed by the squeal of boulder sized tires. With remarkable finesse, Agathon guided his Atlantean Tank out of the garage without a single paint scratch. He gunned it as they hit the road, jerking the vehicle hard to the right and sending smoke behind them as he burned fresh rubber on the pavement.

  Wash turned in the seat to watch out the back window, searching for any sign they were being followed. A soft hand rested on his forearm sending warm fuzzies right to the back of his neck.

  “Thank you,” Caitlin whispered.

  Wash couldn’t bring himself to look down at her. His face burned with his feelings, so he settled for placing his hand on hers.

  “Oh, you’re welcome, I love coming to a foreign country to save my wife from an angry god,” Agathon shot over his shoulder without looking back.

  Right. Married. Maybe.

  Whatever.

  Wash took his hand off of hers to face front and buckle himself in.

  Caitlin reached over to pat his arm. “I’ll explain, I promise, I just—”

  All of his feelings roiled up inside him—all of his longing and frustration and confusion and...

  “Caitlin,” Wash said quietly. “I know I’m human and inferior, and unable to comprehend your elven ways…” He stared resolutely out the windshield, feeling the words just shuddering out of him. “But I am a living creature with actual feelings. This trail of breadcrumbs and promises that if I’m a very good boy…” He stopped, forcing himself to look at her. “I am grateful to you, more than I can say, for saving my life. But I am not a stray dog for you to rescue.”

  Caitlin’s emerald eyes were wide, and they suddenly welled up with tears. Agony tore through him, and he had to look away, gripping the leather headrest in front of him to keep himself from taking it all back. Every word.

  There had been a strength in his words that he truly did not feel. He knew he didn’t deserve anything she’d granted him, much less better than that.

  But he needed better.

  “You tell her,” Agathon said from the front.

  “Shut up!” Wash and Caitlin both snapped at the same time.

  Agathon only made a sound of disgust, spinning the wheel hard to the right as he took another turn.

  “I’m sorry,” Caitlin whispered, her voice almost too quiet for him to hear. Her fingers grazed his hand with hesitation.

  Wash took a deep breath and then squeezed her hand briefly in return.

  He shook his head. He would find a way through this. He had to.

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “I know a place where we can lay low for a few hours… it’s out of the way, but the person who lives there owes my family a favor. No time like the present to collect.”

  A large bump sent her yanking against her restraints jostling her awake. She shot up with a sudden alertness only fear could bring.

  “It’s okay, we’re safe.” Wash’s voice was like a warm blanket, calming her. Then a wave of sadness rolled over her.

  He was right. All the regret she had expressed over the ignorance and recklessness in her youth… was she any different now?

  She’d plucked him out of his life, and dropped him into her own, because… she wanted to. Because she was curious. Because she felt alone. And she’d done it without any thought to what it would do to him. Without any thought to how it would leave him when she was gone. And she knew she would be, eventually.

  From the very beginning, she knew. But he didn’t.

  She’d kissed him, and then told him they couldn’t be together. Then she’d fallen asleep against him, taken comfort from him, only to dash his heart again when Agathon arrived.

  It wasn’t Agathon’s fault, or Wash’s. It was hers, and only hers.

  Caitlin stared out the window, fists clenched as she willed herself not to cry.

  This isn’t about you, idiot, she told herself furiously. Stop feeling so damned sorry for yourself.

  Agathon drove his monster vehicle down a dirt road filled with rocks and potholes. She couldn’t see the ocean, and the sun was off to her right as they skirted a thickly forested area.

  Sometime during her nap the sun had passed the zenith above and started its slow march toward the sea. Without a link, she had no idea what time it was. In Puerto Rico, the sun could be that high anywhere from three to nine.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “Somewhere safe,” Agathon replied. Safe? She doubted that. There wasn’t anywhere in Puerto Rico safe from Osiris and his pet witch.

  “You feeling better?” Wash looked down at her. When she could bring herself to meet his eyes, she saw both warmth and sadness there.

  Here he was, offering her kindness, after how heartless she’d been.

  “Yes, thank you. The sleep really helped,” she said, and then took a deep breath. “Wash, I need to explain about Agathon.”

  “You really don’t—”

  “Yeah, Caitlin,” Agathon cut in. “Explain about me. It would be nice for once if you acknowledged—”

  She kicked the back of his seat. “One more word out of you and I swear you’ll spend the rest of your life with a rain cloud over your head—and I don’t mean figuratively.”

  She narrowed her eyes at his reflection in the rear view, channeling her venom into it. His eyes widened in response, and he twisted round in his seat, opening his mouth to make some kind of angry retort. She raised her finger to him.

  “One. More. Word.”

  He hesitated, and then his mouth clamped shut and he returned to watching the road. Caitlin wanted to know where they were going but first, she needed to explain herself to Wash. Even with what he’d said earlier, he’d been far more patient with her than she had any right to e
xpect.

  “Caitlin—” Wash began.

  “Wash, please,” she said. “I know I’ve kind of screwed this whole thing up, but… please, let me say this. I need to. This is the last favor I’ll ask of you.”

  He fell silent, and she took that as assent.

  Caitlin drew in a deep breath, and then just said it all at once. “Despite what Agathon says, we’re not married. We have never been married.”

  Wash’s eyebrows shot up, glancing at Agathon, and then back to her. “Does he just like being a jerk?”

  “I’m right here—” Agathon began.

  Caitlin shot him a glare, and he shut his mouth with a resentful look.

  “No,” she said to Wash. “I mean—yes, he does. But also, he’s…” The words caught in her throat. She didn’t want to say this. How in Hades had she let Wash into her heart so fast?

  This is what she’d wanted. She needed to drive him away, now, so it wouldn’t be more painful for both of them later. “He’s my… we’re… I guess you would say, we’re betrothed.”

  Wash was silent for a few long, agonizing moments. “This has got to mean something different to elves than it does to humans…” he ventured, granting her a thoughtful look. “You two don’t strike me as the happiest of couples, so I’m guessing this is some kind of arranged thing.”

  Whatever reaction she was expecting from him, this was not it. She let out a relieved sigh. “Well, basically, yes. The reason Atlantean society has lasted for ten thousand years is that we are a very structured society, bound by tradition. None of us choose who we marry.”

  “None of you?”

  “No.”

  Wash let out a breath. “That sounds brutal.” He glanced down at her. “So, I’m guessing you’re not quite ready to send out the invites? How long do the two of you have to figure out how to not kill each other?”

  This was not the reaction any of the guys she’d known had ever had. Not ever. Not that she’d had many of them make it past the age revelation. But the couple who had, upon hearing about her and Agathon, had immediately resorted to calling her a liar and a tease… among other, worse things.

  But Wash… there was nothing but compassion in his eyes.

  “A hundred,” she said.