Did I do it? Leon and I stare at each other for a moment before heading to the door. I put my ear to it and hear breathing, the sounds of restless animals. They’re there, but they’re not attacking.
Not now, at least. And who knows how long it will last?
I put my hand on the door handle and slowly turn it.
12
The first thing I see is Foster’s face, his stubble and messy hair and glinting eyes. I can tell he’s weak, whether from the sedative or from hunger I’m not sure. But he’s got enough energy to grin at me, one side of his mouth turning up in a cocky expression.
“You’re welcome.” He grabs my hand and nods at Leon. “Let’s get out of here.”
“What do you mean . . . Wait. It was you who stopped the animals?”
He shrugs. “I sensed you trying. But your signal strength needs work. I’ll teach you.” He winks at me.
I want to punch him, but I also want to kiss him all over.
The hallway is lined with creatures that part to let us through, and I can tell by the concentrated look on Foster’s face, by his tight jaw and wrinkled forehead, that he’s doing it. Controlling them.
We pass centaurs and sasquatches. A Wuhnan toad and a Loveland Frogman. Chupacabras with their yellow eyes and glinting teeth. They watch us, panting and breathing heavily, but letting us go.
“What about Mrs. Bachman?” I ask. “I can’t leave her here.”
Foster grunts acknowledgement, and we stop at the lab where she’s lying. He picks her up like a sack of potatoes and carries her out of the room. Luckily, she’s still knocked out or she’d surely have something to say about the indignity of being treated this way, even if it was to save her life.
“And what about Melliana?” I whisper as we continue down the hallway. I know Foster’s powers are keeping the creatures at bay, but I don’t know how long it will last or if me speaking too loudly could break the spell.
“We’ll come back for her. The cryptids won’t attack her. She’s an innocent.”
“An innocent?” I ask.
“Yeah. They recognize her as another cryptid, the type who doesn’t mean any harm to them. Some of the cryptids fight among each other. Generally, those with less developed brains or intelligence.”
“Oh. Okay.” We’re in the elevator now, and it’s traveling up to the main floor. We’re almost out of here.
“What about Marcus?” Leon’s jamming the elevator button as though that will make it travel faster.
Foster shrugs. “The cryptids will settle it. And until they do, they won’t leave the area. That’s the reason they all showed up in the first place.” The elevator opens and we exit into the lobby.
“But he knows where Francine is.” Leon’s face is pale, the anguish in his words almost palpable.
“I’ll hold them back a little longer.” There’s a sheen on Foster’s face, his teeth gritted. I know how hard it must be for him to put that much focus into controlling the creatures, while at the same time walking and talking and acting fairly normal.
My powers need work. I can’t let him be better than I am.
“Go search the building.” Foster nods at Leon, then lays Mrs. Bachman on the floor.
“Is she still alive?” I bend down over her and place two fingers on her neck. A soft pulse relieves me. She’s crotchety, but she doesn’t deserve to die. Besides, who else will yell at me for making too much noise in the hallway or slamming my door too loud?
Foster leans back against the wall, his limbs trembling, then slides down so he’s sitting.
“Can I help? Let me help.” I run a hand through his thick hair.
Weakly, he shakes his head. “It might confuse them. We need to hold them off till we’re gone. They won’t hurt me, but they will come after you and Leon. I don’t want to lose you.”
“I don’t want to lose you either.” The words are out before I can stop them. I don’t say sappy things like that. Ever. Except I just did. “But wouldn’t they recognize my, you know, ability? Maybe show some mercy?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know, Thea. But I’m not willing to take the chance. And when this is all over? I’ll teach you how to strengthen your skills.” He nods at my head. “I have a trick or two I think you’ll enjoy.”
“Oh yeah?”
He winks at me, a weak wink, but even that much, even here under these fucked-up circumstances, makes my stomach swirl. Fucking Foster Graham.
“I’m going to go help Leon look for Francine. I’ll be back.” I hate to leave Foster there, looking so weak and pale. I’m not used to seeing him like that. But the sooner we find Leon’s girlfriend, the sooner we can get out of here.
I turn to leave, but Leon’s already come back, a grin on his face and his girlfriend in his arms.
“Is she okay?” I rush to them and check out her closed eyes, her arms hanging limp.
“I think she’s just sedated.”
“Marcus does love his tranquilizers, doesn’t he?” I roll my eyes. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
Leon carries Francine, Foster carries Mrs. Bachman, and I lead the way, jumping in the drivers’ seat of the white Center van while everyone else gets in.
“Ready?” murmurs Foster as I start the engine.
“Yup.” I put it in gear and start to drive.
Foster’s head falls back as he lets his mind go, freeing the creatures. A roar so loud I swear all of Chicago can hear it begins, and it’s still going strong as I speed away.
13
Melliana is demanding. Like really fucking demanding
I get it. Driving cross country in a cramped tank in the back of a van probably isn’t the most comfortable way to travel. But hell, she should be grateful we’re taking the time to bring her all the way to the ocean. I want to tell her that all drains lead to the ocean, and I’m this close to flushing her. But she’d know I’m bluffing. Anyway, she’s too big to get rid of that way.
“I don’t like fried fish.” She pushes her limp blond hair back behind her shoulder and glares at me as I hand her the fish sandwich I procured at the fast food place.
I shrug. “It’s all they had. Here.” I pick some lettuce off my burger and offer it to her. “It’s like seaweed, right?”
“Wrong.” She rolls her eyes. “Foster,” she pouts, “are you sure there wasn’t anything else for me to eat in there?”
“Positive. Look. Just a few more hours, all right? Let’s move.” He nods at me, and the two of us crawl from the back of the van to the front seats.
“Foster,” I pout quietly, imitating Melliana’s voice.
He grins at me. “Jealous?”
“Nope.”
“Good. You shouldn’t be.” He takes my hand, his cool skin making me shiver, but not just from the temperature. For the past two days I’ve wanted to be alone with him. I can’t wait to drop Melliana into the ocean so it’s just the two of us.
I put on the radio, and it’s not hard to find news. Everyone’s still talking about what happened in Chicago.
“Researchers and authorities are still trying to piece together exactly what happened in The Windy City in recent days. Although sightings of unusual creatures have abruptly halted, actual video feeds and numerous photos have caught animals previously unseen. We’re still not sure where they came from. Or where they’ve gone.” The announcer introduces some scientist who, like all the other “experts,” doesn’t really know anything at all.
Foster turns the volume down to a gentle hum. “You know, you really should consider coming forward with what you know. Setting the facts straight. Or at least writing a book.” Foster’s been telling me this for the past few days, ever since we saved Melliana from the rubble and began our road trip to bring her to the ocean. Most of the other creatures dispersed, some running off, some simply disappearing, some most likely magically transporting themselves to another place.
For some reason, Melliana wasn’t able to do that. But she’s sort of helples
s all around.
“I don’t know. We’ll see. Leon and I are discussing our options. We’re just not sure it’s something that needs to be out there, you know? Maybe letting the mystery exist is what’s better for humanity.” Leon and I have been discussing it a lot via text, and we’re still undecided. We could write a tell-all book. Expose everything. Make a shit-ton of money. But something’s holding us back. For now, at least.
Just in case, I’m saving all the contact information for the agents who’ve contacted me. My name was all over the news because I worked at The Center, and someone dug up my unpublished master’s thesis, so all the experts are trying to get ahold of me. But I’m not in any hurry.
My phone rings, and when I see it’s Fay, I answer right away.
“Fay!” I’m so happy to hear her voice. I’ve spoken to her since everything went down, but I told her to keep checking in with me so I could make sure she’s all right.
“Hey, sweetie! Just calling to let you know I’m okay.”
“I’m so glad. How’s Mrs. Bachman?”
“We’re baking cookies today, Thea! And later Mrs. Bachman is going to show me her old photo albums.” What sounds like absolute hell to me seems to be making Fay really happy.
After the big catastrophe at The Center, we brought Mrs. Bachman home, but it was evident she needed help. She claimed she had no family around, but was willing to pay for a live-in assistant. I asked Fay if she’d take the job, and she was eager to try something different.
I’m not positive if Mrs. Bachman will let Fay redecorate her apartment to look like Barbie’s Dream House, but so far they seem to be getting along.
When I hang up, I grin at Foster. He takes my hand, his cool and smooth. I shut my eyes and lean back against the head rest.
“What are we doing?” He’s looking at me, his eyes intense. And then he turns back to the road.
“What do you mean? We’re driving. To the beach. To get rid of the mermaid.” I whisper the last part. Melliana’s all the way in the back, and I haven’t kept it secret that she’s annoying me, but I don’t really want her to hear.
He shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean? Wait. Do you mean what we’re doing in general? Like you and me together?”
“Is that so bad?” He grins, the side of his mouth I can see lifting slightly.
“We already agreed not to see other people.”
He nods. “I think we should have the boyfriend-girlfriend talk.”
“I don’t do the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing.” I stare straight ahead.
“Isn’t that what not seeing other people means? I just want to make it official. You’re so cold sometimes, Thea.” There’s a hint of teasing in his voice, but seriousness as well.
“You’re the one whose blood literally runs, like, just above freezing. Or something,” I mutter and look out the passenger side window, watching the trees blur as we drive past.
“Is it because I’m a vampire?”
I burst out laughing. “God, no. It’s because I don’t do relationships. Period. You know what’s interesting, though? Just before he tried to kill me, Marcus pointed out that the only person I’ve ever fallen for isn’t even human.”
“So you’ve fallen for me?”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t help smiling. “Okay. Yes. I’ve fallen for you, Foster. Happy?”
“Very.” He squeezes my hand. “I’ll be even happier if you’ll be my girlfriend.” He says it in a teasing way.
“Fine. Whatever. But only because you’re not technically human. So it’s not technically dating, at least not in the traditional sense.” I know even as I say it that there’s no difference. I’m splitting hairs because I don’t want to admit something that’s been on my mind for days: I’m falling in love with Foster fucking Graham.
14
“I’m ready.” I’m on my stomach, trying to keep my body loose, fighting the urge to tense up.
“I think you’re nervous.” Foster’s hand rakes through my hair as he whispers the words.
“I’ve captured dozens of cryptids with my bare hands, and you think a little needle is going to scare me?” I scoff, but I’m seriously fighting back the trembling that’s threatening to take over my body.
“I don’t think it’s the needle you’re afraid of. Are you sure you want to do this, Thea?”
“It’s just a tattoo. I’m ready.” Except it’s not just a tattoo. Foster has a theory that injecting some of his blood into me will enhance my sense, will allow us to be more mentally in tune with one another. We’ve been working on strengthening our connection in other ways too, through practicing, but we’ve talked about the tattoo for a long time.
Enough blood, he said, and I’d turn into a vampire too. But a mere trace, injected with ink beneath my skin, would give me just a hint of power. Maybe. It’s an experiment, really, and I’m probably crazy for even considering it.
Still, here I am, topless, lying face down on the tattoo bed. Foster tells me the first few minutes are the worst, but after that my body will get used to the pain.
And he’s right. I close my eyes while he works. He’s doing an intricate mandala design on my upper right back. He told me that mandala means circle in Sanskrit, and that a mandala can represent unity and eternity, peace within the universe.
“You’re part of something bigger,” he said. “Most people are only part of the world they see. You? Your sense has opened the door to so much more.”
“Please don’t get all fucking sentimental and symbolic on me,” I replied.
He laughed, but now, as he’s marking my skin, I swear I feel his emotion, his energy, as he draws on my body. Painful. Hot. Beautiful. Eternal.
I don’t know how long I lie there. After a while he gently pats my skin where he’s been working, soothing it with what feels like a warm, damp cloth.
“I’m going to put some antibacterial lotion and a bandage on it.” His voice is rough, and I wonder if he’s been holding back, if working on me like this has made him want to kill me, to suck my blood. If it’s been a big test for him, like he told me tattooing was.
“Okay.” I wait while he moves around, my eyes still closed.
His hands are gentle as he puts gauze gently on my skin, then tapes it down. “You’re all done, Thea.”
I sit up and stare into his eyes. They’re blazing. His skin is cold, but his gaze is hot as fire.
“Thea.” He says my name like a prayer, moving close to me, his minty breath making me heady with desire. His lips hover near mine, not quite touching but almost there. “I love you, Thea.”
“I love you too.” I’ve never said that before to a guy. I never thought I would. I’m dizzy with confusion and desire and, maybe, Foster’s blood in my system. Perhaps it’s too soon to tell.
When he finally kisses me, I’m already breathless from anticipation. He’s cold and hot, vicious yet gentle, everything I want but fear all at once. He takes his time, sometimes going so slowly I want to scream. Teasing me into bliss so divine I’d have thought it impossible if I wasn’t experiencing it myself.
“My place or yours?” He grins at me as I pull on my shirt, gingerly because my back is sensitive and sore.
I wince at the pain. “Mine.”
“Mine’s nicer.”
“Oh, but then you’d miss out on seeing your bestie!” I wink at him as I grab my underwear from the floor, where Foster dropped them, and slip the fabric on.
“True. And I’m sure she’ll have some errands for me to run. She’s probably out of prunes again.” Foster rolls his eyes, but I know he has a fondness for Mrs. Bachman.
“She probably wants you to come in and fix something. Fay can take care of it, but I think Mrs. Bachman likes a little male eye candy every now and then.” I laugh as Foster helps me into my leather jacket.
After he locks up, we head to his BMW. “How are you feeling?” He looks at me curiously.
“It’s to
o soon to tell if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow or not.” I shoot him a wink.
“Perv. I’m talking about the tattoo.” He’s serious.
“I don’t know.” It’s the truth. Right now I can’t separate my feelings and emotions. For the first time ever, I told a guy, albeit a non-human one, that I love him. How can I tell if that’s making me feel tingly or if it’s his literal blood, running through my veins, only trace amounts but mixing with my own and changing it. Changing me?
“We’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it all out.” He takes my hand, and instead of pulling away, I let him hold it. I let him lead me to his car. I even let him open the door for me so I can slide in.
I can take care of myself. But it’s nice to know there’s someone else looking out for me too.
The End
About the Author
Maria Monroe is an award winning and bestselling author who writes contemporary romance and sci-fi/fantasy romance. Her two sisters, Alexis Alvarez and Adrienne Perry, are also romance authors. Maria loves black coffee, vodka, the Oxford comma, bonfires, and her family (but not necessarily in that order).
Read More from Maria Monroe
http://www.graffitifiction.com
Djinn Rising
Part One
Christina Walker
Djinn Rising © 2017 Christina Walker
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All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection Page 164
