by Debra Dunbar
We parked in an area alongside a tour bus, and I raised my eyebrows. I’d gotten used to falling off the surfboard in front of the resort guests. Showing my ineptitude to a busload of tourists was going to be a lesson in humility.
“Don’t worry.” Kai hopped out and began untying the boards. “They’re here to see the sunrise. They’ll be gone before we hit the water.”
Sure enough, lines of blanket-laden, sleep-deprived people were walking up the narrow staircase as we headed down. They huffed up the stairs two, sometimes three, abreast, causing me to accidently bang them aside with the surfboard under my arm. Accidently. Yeah. That demon half was going to really get me in trouble one of these days.
I was so busy trying to knock tourists down the stairs that I didn’t notice the beach until my foot hovered over the last step.
I took a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh of disbelief. “You’re joking.” The beach looked like the resort ones — red-gold sand, sun nearly blinding on the ocean surface. That’s where the resemblance ended. Where the resort waters were sheltered with gentle swells, this side of the island had the full force of the Pacific hammering its shores. Waves arched tall then curled over in a waterfall of white and blue. As a surfer caught a wave, I realized with a heavy feeling in my gut exactly how tall these waves were. No, they weren’t thirty feet or anything, but any wave tall enough to create a tunnel for a surfer to shoot through, even bent over, was too big for me.
“Go big or go home.” Kai commented. “Out of the baby pool, girl. I’m tossing you into the deep end.”
Deep end my ass. “You want to kill me, don’t you? Why don’t you just knife me, or fill my coffee cup with cyanide? I’d enjoy that sort of death a whole lot more.”
I found myself talking to Kai’s retreating form. As pleasant as it was to watch her backside as she jogged into the water, I knew she’d eventually come back to haul me in with her. Better to get this over with.
We swam out, and I bobbed, pushing my board through the waves as we watched a couple of other surfers.
“See how they gather speed then cutback? It’s rhythm that keeps them staying in the sweet-spot. Think of it as playing with the water. Dancing, with the water as your partner.”
I completely understood what she was saying, but whenever I got on top of the board, it was less like a dance and more like a Three Stooges routine.
“Get ready.”
I got ready.
“Go!”
Kai had timed her command to account for not only my delayed reaction, but my initial hesitancy in reacting at all. Feeling the water building behind me, I paddled then jumped to a squat and waved my arms around frantically as I tried to dance with the wave. There was no elegant drop, no bottom turns or cutbacks, no carving. I stood. I rode. I jumped off. At least I didn’t fall off.
Kai cheered when I paddled back out to meet her in the lineup. “You’re a regular Namaka!”
“Who?” My mind raced. Wasn’t that the Hawaiian goddess of two left feet?
“Na-maka-o-Kaha’i. The goddess of the seas.”
“Really?” Goddess of the seas sounded pretty good.
Kai’s face wrinkled. “Uh, no. But you’ve made a lot of improvement.”
Okay, so not quite ready for divinity yet.
“You’re still too close to the whitewash. Now you’ve proved you can make it to shore without flying off, try to stay on the face. Surf down the line, not toward the shore. Angle your board across the wave when you take off.”
I waited my turn, nervousness rising as I watched the others surf. This was ridiculous. I was a half-elf, still buzzing full of energy and power. Dancing with the wave? Clearly the waves and I didn’t agree on the steps. Maybe I needed to let the water lead? Mamba, salsa, whatever — just let the water guide me.
“Go, go!”
Shit. I paddled and sprang to my feet. Closed my eyes. Danced.
The water came alive under my board, cradling it with gentle hands. For the first time, I stopped reacting and felt the subtle motions. It was less about balance and more about giving way to the forces moving me along. After the initial drop, I felt the change in the water as it began its roll toward the shore. Shifting my weight, I felt the board turn, catching additional speed as it glided along the face of the wave. We waltzed for a bit, and then I felt my partner begin to leave. Instead of my usual mad, abandon-ship method of ending the ride, I opened my eyes and knelt, turning to kick out over the top and paddle back to Kai.
There was no cheering this time, just my friend’s rather shocked face.
“That was fun. Next time, I might actually try keeping my eyes open.”
***
I panted on the shore, feeling the sun drying the water from my skin. It had been a great morning. The best I’d had since the first day I’d picked up a board. A girl could get used to this surfing thing — even a land lover like me.
Kai rode one more wave in, striding from the surf with her board tucked easily under her arm. She looked like a Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover, or a goddess rising from the ocean. Kai was the embodiment of Namaka, where I was She-Who-Grows-Plants. Yeah, there totally had to be a goddess named that in some pantheon. I’d need to ask Kristin.
The thought of Kristin sent a sober chill through me. “I hate to ruin our morning, but can we talk about the supernatural fire situation? I could really use your local knowledge.”
Kai had dropped her board to the side and sprawled across the sand. It clung to her wet skin like glittering gold.
“I checked with my brother, and there haven’t been any more fires since the hot tub one at the resort. I was hoping that was all over.”
“Me too.” I went on to tell her of my early-morning conversation with Kristin.
“Well, Maui has a truly diverse ethnic and religious population,” Kai mused. “I haven’t heard of any one gaining unusual traction.”
I figured as much. “How about the sacred-space theory? Do you think a local god or goddess got pissed off at someone digging up their tree or smashing up the side of a mountain for a highway?”
“Have you noticed how long it takes us to get from one side of the island to the other?” Kai laughed. “We’re an island full of hippies and environmentalists. Anyone who digs up a tree would have a lynch mob on their hands.”
“But the sugarcane? And the aqueduct system? There are some human enterprises that don’t exactly compliment the natural rhythms of the island.”
“Our ancestors underestimated the binding nature of legal contracts.” Kai ran her fingers over the jagged red surface of a rock. “But in time, all wounds are healed. It may take a decade, a century, or thousands of years. Nature is on a timeline beyond our scope, and we’re arrogant fools if we think our damage does anything but hasten our own end.”
“Nature, or old gods?” I mused.
“Like Namaka, Pele, Lono, and Kanaloa?” She smiled. “Pele created these islands. Driven from her family home, she could find no sanctuary, so created her own by bringing volcanoes up from the ocean.”
I wasn’t surprised she was exiled, from the stories I’d heard of her. The only thing that surprised me about this Pele woman was that any of the natives had stayed, with her stealing all the hot men and turning the reluctant ones into trees.
“The volcanic rock is her flesh. Pele is the island — all of them, actually.”
I snorted, thinking she’d need to fight Cleo for it. As long as Irix didn’t get to the succubus first. “Pele sounds like the sort that would be pissed off if someone built a road through her flesh. Doesn’t she curse tourists who smuggle lava rocks out in their suitcases?”
Kai laughed. “That’s a fabricated legend to keep tourists from hauling every rock and stick back to the mainland. Yeah, we love our bad-girl Pele stories, but our gods and goddess are the soul of the islands, not some being to wake up and smack down the humans, or burn a farmers’ market.”
I stared out at the waves. “I think it s
ounds pretty far-fetched too, but given you’re teaching a half-elf/half-demon how to surf, and that a fire monster has been relentlessly igniting the island, I think we need to consider it.”
A hand took mine. Kai’s thumb traced a line down to my wrist. “We haven’t had a fire for nearly two days. I’m going to hope that whatever weird stuff caused that thing to burn my surf shack, Mr. Lee’s house, a farmers’ market, and a rancher’s field is over.”
I gripped her hand. “I hope you’re right.”
She pulled free and sprang to her feet. “Good. Now get back out there. I’ve got two more days to make a kick-ass surfer out of you.”
Chapter 18
I skipped into the resort feeling on top of the world. I wasn’t at the pro-surfer level, but I had managed to improve to the point where I didn’t feel like I had ‘newbie’ stamped across my forehead. Kai and I had an amazing lunch together then returned to the beach for more surfing and other, more intimate, activities. For someone who’d always hated the idea of sex on the beach, I was loving it. Seems that Kai had changed my mind about a lot of things.
It was going on two days since the last fire. That, along with the amazing day I’d had, were doing a lot to give me an optimistic view of the whole mage-god-fire problem. Maybe Kai was right and it was all over. We hadn’t gotten to the bottom of the mystery, but that was okay in my book. I could move on. I’d be happy to put it all behind me and just enjoy the rest of my vacation. Yep. Positive thinking, and nothing but an incredible dinner with Irix ahead of me.
And then a figure in the lobby burst my happiness bubble. I stopped abruptly, scanning for some place to hide. What the hell did she want? She’d only appeared when I was picking up men before, and I’d hoped not to encounter her again without Irix by my side.
Irix. Horrible jealousy roared through me. I knew he loved me, but we weren’t exclusive. Cleo was gorgeous and far more powerful than me. If he decided to have sex with her, there wasn’t much I could do about it. He was a demon — a sex demon. This is what they did, and I’d just need to learn to live with it.
Fuck that.
I strode right up to the succubus and got in her face. Her smug look gave way to one of confused wariness before she composed her expression.
“I’ll do men in a storeroom with you. I’ll drink, carjack Hondas, and party with you, but I’ll be damned if I share my man with you.” I snarled, practically close enough to bite her. “If I catch you within a hundred feet of Irix, I’ll fuck you up. Got it?”
She raised both an eyebrow and a shoulder. “Don’t you think the man in question has any say as to who he associates with? Maybe we should let Irix choose?”
A wave of shame came over me. I didn’t want him to know I was an insane, jealous woman. Once again, I’d look like a toddler in a tantrum and not an adult half-demon. Still, I had to draw the line somewhere or I’d go insane. And I was drawing the line with Cleo.
“He doesn’t get to choose. I let you take that businessman from me. I let you choose which guy you wanted last night. You don’t get Irix.”
She sniffed and shouldered past me. “Whatever.”
Oh, them’s fighting words. I reached out with all my elf-speed and grabbed her arm. Tight. I’m not physically strong, but it was enough to stop her. “Don’t you fucking ‘whatever’ me, bitch. You so much look at Irix and you won’t need a ferry to the Four Seasons. I’ll drag you there through the water by your hair, all sixteen-and-a-half miles.”
She blanched at ‘forced swim’ then glared at me. The lobby floor rumbled. I narrowed my eyes and reached out with my energy. Plants crept across the shaking tiles toward us. We struggled in our silent contest of wills, bits of plaster flaking from the walls as the shaking increased. Vines twined their way up Cleo’s legs. It seemed we were at an impasse, but then I remembered her absolute dread of water. It wasn’t my element, but all the surfing I’d done today had given me awareness of the liquid around me.
The five-gallon, decorative glass decanter gave way with a sharp crack, spilling water and lemon slices across the floor. Cleo squealed, jumping back to avoid the liquid that coated the floor, breaking her concentration. The earthquake stopped, and the succubus tore the vines from her legs, her cheeks red.
“You’ll pay for that,” she shot back over her shoulder as she stomped from the lobby.
I had the sick feeling that whatever Cleo’s payback, it wouldn’t be plastic pineapples in a locker.
***
I thought I was calm by the time Irix walked through the door, but I wasn’t. He kissed me, and I couldn’t help checking him out, looking for the demonic equivalent of lipstick on the collar.
“What’s wrong?” His brow furrowed. “Didn’t you have a good time with Kai? Did Kristin get back to you? Has the fire servant struck again?”
“No, everything’s fine. I just... . Who did you have sex with today?”
“Mmm, story time.” He pulled me close, hands slipping under the edge of my T-shirt. “Which do you want to hear: zipline naughtiness, cocktails on the catamaran, or afternoon delight?”
Wow, he sure got around. Three, and it wasn’t even dinnertime yet. His hands reached to unsnap my bra, but I pulled away. “I mean demons. Have you had sex with Cleo — today or any time at all?”
His frown cleared, and his eyes danced with amused comprehension. “I have not had sex with any non-human beyond you since I got on this island. I can’t speak on whether or not I’ve ever slept with Cleo. Once I can identify her, I’ll be able to tell you if we’ve ever shared carnal relations.”
I took a calming breath, feeling like a total fool. “Sorry. She cornered me in the lobby. That woman really knows how to get to me.”
“That’s what demons do, sweetheart.” He pulled me into his arms again. “They scent out your weaknesses and prey on them.”
I guess I sort of did that too, although at least I was giving pleasure and not throwing someone into a jealous panic attack. Well, the girlfriends of my partners maybe, but not the partners themselves.
Irix pulled my hair aside and kissed my neck, alternating feather-light brushes of his lips with sharp nips of his teeth. I shivered.
“I know your weaknesses,” he murmured. “And after dinner, I promise to prey on every one of them.”
My legs felt weak. “Let’s hurry up and have dinner, then, because I’m ready to be preyed on right now.”
***
Irix waited patiently, sipping guava juice and vodka while I read Kristin’s text.
Brigid, Hestia, Vulcan, Pele, Kojin (a Japanese god of fire). There are another fifty old gods affiliated with fire, but they aren’t regional to the area, so wouldn’t be likely to wake due to a desecration. They are also not commonly known, so I doubt a group of any worshipers is large enough to wake them. These are my top five. I’ll get back to you on the produce affinity.
“Three goddesses and two gods,” I told him, pocketing my cell phone and walking through the door.
We were dressed to the max, Irix in a gorgeous suit and me in a hand-embroidered, full-length halter dress that shimmered with gold thread. A dinner out, Irix’s way of reducing stress without us being naked and horizontal, although, that was probably on our agenda later. I shivered with anticipation.
“Sea bass? Prime Rib? Tuna?” Irix tucked my hand into the crook of his arm.
“Anything but burgers. No fast food tonight.”
“Hopefully no fast food for a long time.”
I sighed. “Well, I might need to gorge myself on everything available, fast food as well as sea bass. An old god – I don’t even want to think about it.”
“When you don’t want to think about it, it’s time to do just that.” Irix helped me into the car – a huge BMW sedan this time – and walked around to slide into the driver’s seat. “So, five gods and goddesses. What do you know about each of them?”
“Brigid is a Celtic goddess, and like Vulcan, she rules the fire of the forge. She also has a lot i
n common with Hestia – hearth, healing, some aspects of childbirth. Wiccans invoke her a lot for the ‘fire’ of inspiration, passion, and creation. Same with Hestia, who is also invoked for peace and sanctity of the home. If we’re looking at a group of worshippers, I think Brigid or Hestia are the most likely.”
“And Vulcan?”
I shrugged. “The Roman god of volcanoes, the forge, and the more destructive aspects of fire. I can see him being a main suspect given the damage – that doesn’t seem like Hestia or Brigid as far as how the Wiccans perceive them. If it’s Vulcan, then I’m thinking we might be looking at an old-god summoning by a super-mage. Not many outside of metalworkers would want to worship him, and I can’t imagine there being enough metalworkers in Hawaii to awaken him.”
“That leaves Pele and Kojin.”
“Pele is pretty much the local Hawaiian Vulcan as far as I’ve read in the tourist brochures. Since she’s a volcano goddess, and the islands are volcanic rock, I’d probably make her my number one choice out of the five. Even if the native Hawaiians don’t worship her per-se, there are probably enough hippie and surfer types who would throw enough energy her way to wake her. I don’t know anything about Kojin, but there’s a significant Japanese population here.”
Pele. My mind screeched to a halt then replayed the legends I’d heard. Pele, the temperamental, jealous volcano goddess, the one who created the islands. Pele who threw a fit when she didn’t get a man she wanted. Pele who thought the world revolved around her.
Holy shit. I’d been such an idiot. How could I have not seen this?
Irix pulled into a parking space. “So, in order of likelihood, Pele, Kojin, Vulcan, Brigid, Hestia?”
“Pele.” I could barely get the name out.
“Yeah. I mean, she’s in the local pantheon, and she does have the whole volcano-fire thing going. She’s our top suspect.”
