by Jaye Shields
“How does kissing me suit you, Tera?” Before awaiting an answer, he was all business once again. “Now we must go before the Nunanish escapes farther. I sense it across the water, north, surrounded by forest.”
“North, across water, within trees? How do you know this?”
“The demon has come out of hiding. I can smell its surroundings.”
A mix of confusion and concern twisted across Tera’s expression. Her voice was barely a whisper. “I hope it’s not where I think it is.” Her hand shot out to hail a cab passing by.
Luckily, the cab was empty and excited to gain a passenger. “Where to?”
Tera sucked in a breath as Sabin watched her with obvious concern. “To Muir Woods, please. And step on it.”
“I think they’ll be closing soon, miss.”
For the first time, she felt herself glare with malicious desperation. “Just take us there.”
Whether by coincidence or sinister influence, the Nunanish demon had found itself in Tera’s birthplace, the Muir Woods. Sabin clutched Tera closer to him. “Don’t worry.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead as the cab sped around the Presidio and toward the bridge that would carry them toward the Muir Woods.
• • •
Eris gnashed her teeth and her astral form flickered as it strolled down the prison hall. The mystically enforced prison held no real guards since prisoners were automatically teleported free once their sentence was fulfilled. Now her image was in search of a willing minion.
“Ah, my favorite breed of able-bodied troublemakers.” The Goddess of Chaos licked her lips as she glanced into a cell full of Quetzalem. Inside the cell were a female and two males. Eris’ eyes immediately went to the large male with blue scales the color of a Greek sky; his wings, although tucked in, would be large and strong when spread for flight. His face was smooth, his skin a pale shade of blue with eyes the color of gold. A warrior fit for a goddess.
“You, blue dragon-demon. I have need for you.”
But it was Azra who spoke up first. “We prefer the term Quetzalem.” Her voice was pure annoyance, with no respect for the Goddess whatsoever.
She didn’t take her eyes from the blue-scaled Quetzalem. “I will take you from the jail and you will have the love and appreciation of a Goddess if you do my bidding.”
The fiery golden eyes locked on her did not waver. “I think not, Chaos.”
A low voice cracked from the dark cell. “I’ll do it.” The rugged dragon demon with frayed copper scales glared at the Goddess. “Get me out of here.” The voice was both dangerous and determined.
Eris smiled slowly. “Psychotic and broken is probably more effective than handsome anyway.” She beckoned with a long, crooked finger. “Come with me, dragon. I hope you feel like setting some things on fire.” Nero approached the Goddess and the moment he neared her grasp, they both disappeared from the cell.
Chapter Fifteen
As the taxi drew nearer and nearer to the forest, Sabin became more and more suspicious of the situation. A feeling of dread curdled in his stomach. The Nunanish’s escape only to go into hiding had already been curious. Now for him to sense the demon from within Tera’s birthplace … evil was practically oozing from the forest. He only hoped that she could not sense it.
“Sabin, something doesn’t feel right.”
Damn. He gritted his teeth. He had grown to admire and care for Tera. Love Tera. The worry in her voice stopped the flow of his blood. He didn’t relish the thought of leaving her, but Sabin swore that he would return her world just as it had been before he arrived. So far, minimum damage had been done since he arrived, but now he began to fear the worst.
The taxi pulled up to an entrance to the closed Muir Woods. Tera stilled as she stared into the darkening forest through the window. Sabin put a calming hand upon her shoulder. Crooking a finger under her chin, he pulled her face gently away from the window and pressed a reassuring kiss to her lips.
When the kiss ended, Tera sucked in a breath. She seemed distracted. Unease passed over her beautiful features. But then she handed a wad of cash to the driver for the lengthy trip. “Don’t wait for us.”
As soon as the cab pulled away, Sabin pulled his gun out of the inside pocket of Tera’s jacket. He felt her shiver.
“Are you cold, my — ” Sabin broke off before finishing. “Dryad?” The awkward break lingered in the silence. Sabin knew that Dryad was not the term of endearment that nearly escaped from his mouth.
“No, just unnerved I guess.” Luckily, she didn’t seem to notice his near slip. Instead she seemed focused on the woods that loomed around her.
A sudden wind gust rushed past them as they stepped past the barrier and into the forest. A mix of gold, red, and green leaves swirled around Tera, her mahogany hair and green eyes the very image of her home. Sabin could have sworn he heard a whisper riding the gale. And then a haunting sound shook the forest.
A pained cry split Tera’s lips in an echoing scream as she fell to the ground. Sabin knelt by her side, instant fear rocking his body to the core. “Tera! What’s wrong?” Pushing back her hair from where it was heaped on the ground, he noticed that she was sobbing. The next thing he noticed was blood pooling on the ground. “What the hell is going on?”
But she couldn’t speak past the sobs that racked her body and caught in her throat. He gently picked her up from the ground and cradled her in his arms. A deep gash was sliced near her rib. “Tera, stop crying, and tell me what’s going on.”
He was overwhelmed with the need to protect, but he sensed no invisible foe near them, and the Nunanish was at least half a mile away. Since she still wasn’t speaking, her tears frightening him into indecision, he set her on the ground to treat her injury. Ripping the shirt from his body, he tied the cloth against her wound to halt the blood flow. Damn the woman for sending away the driver.
“My redwood.” The words escaped lightly across Tera’s trembling lips. “You must get there and stop them.” She let out another pained cry, not from her injury but from desperation. “They have an axe.”
Realization hit Sabin and his vision clouded with a silvery haze of fury. Her next words nearly drove him over the edge. “Leave me here.”
He scooped her into his arms once more and cradled her to his chest. “I will never leave you. Never, Tera.” With that, he tore through the woods with his woman in his arms.
• • •
The Goddess Eris arrived at her desired location within the Muir Woods in astral form once again, mostly for her own comfort. With her newfound Quetzalem in tow, she ran a transparent hand down the bark of a large redwood tree. The hollowed base was wide enough for a person to sleep inside, but she knew that the Dryad belonging to this tree was not at home. Yet.
“Good work, demon. Your kind never fail to appease me.” Eris blew a kiss in the direction of the gangly black Nunanish that had manifested itself in the forest as directed. Her plan was working flawlessly, almost too flawlessly for a Goddess of Chaos.
“And you are efficient wielding the axe,” she praised the Quetzalem. Eris smiled, parting her full black lips evilly. “But now it’s time to shift from melodrama to tragedy.” She winked at her muscular accomplice. “Now, heave-ho brute.”
The dragon-demon’s copper scales flexed as he raised the axe once more and hacked into the ancient tree. The Goddess hadn’t explained to him exactly why he was needed, but he didn’t care to question Chaos. He wasn’t in a mood to question wrong-doing. Nero swung hard, letting his anger and hatred seep into the massive tree. Suddenly, a scream permeated the darkness of the forest. The Quetzalem was taken aback by the blood-chilling sound and he dropped his axe.
The scream thrilled the Goddess of Chaos, and she threw back her head of long, black dreadlocks. The golden rings in her hair glinted occasionally through the darkness like slivers of m
oonlight. Looking at the axe, she scoffed. “Any demon strong enough to survive the realms can wield an axe. You are convenient to me for another purpose.”
The Goddess sauntered to the dragon, her semi-transparent body curving against its hardened scales. “Are you feeling hot, dragon?” she questioned seductively. “Now breathe.”
• • •
Sabin approached the clearing where he sensed the presence of the Nunanish, but far more evil permeated from the area. Tera had already warned him of worse. Another cry erupted from her, this one of both mental and physical pain. His stomach twisted into knots as sheer anguish exploded from his love. He felt the shirt he knotted against her wound become even more damp with blood.
An unfamiliar feeling began to claim him. Desperation. Now the emotion coursed through his body with reckless, tormenting abandon. He was desperate to heal Tera, to save the woman who had opened his eyes to the point of living. He loved her. As he stepped into the clearing, he planted his feet firmly as his eyes took in the horrific scene.
Just across the clearing, a massive redwood tree stood tall, its bark shades of crimson, purple velvet, and deep green. The tree, like his beloved, had two deep gashes in its skin. His eyes went to the Quetzalem who stood with an axe on the ground before him. The dragon demon’s eyes were vacant of intent, but its body stance said it welcomed battle. Next to the dragon stood the flickering image of a Goddess, the Nunanish demon bowed to the ground by her side.
The Goddess’ smile, her black stained lips and wrinkled young facade were a giveaway to her identity. Sabin’s fists clenched as he took in the sight of Chaos in astral form. The cowardess. Not that he could have killed her otherwise, but it would have been fun to try.
He set Tera down gently on the ground. He cursed silently; her body was paling, and she seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness. “Sabin.” Her emerald eyes were framed by swollen pink rims from her tears, and as she muttered her next words, Sabin’s heart clenched painfully. “Thank you.”
Setting his love down carefully, he tried to ignore the desperation and finality in her tone. He would save her, she would be okay. With Tera comfortably leaned against a redwood tree, he glared at the dragon demon, and then charged.
“Fire!” The shrill voice of Chaos erupted excitedly.
Sabin closed his eyes but continued running toward the dragon-demon even when its wings spread and mouth opened to spew flames. As a Knight of the Fog, his skin was immune to the flames of portal travelers and so he forged ahead through the fire, crushing the demon’s body to the ground. In the background, Eris’ voice cackled excitedly.
But then the voice of the Goddess turned dark and sinister. “Aim for the tree, Quetzalem!”
Sabin pummeled the thick skin of the dragon, but when he heard the Goddess’ words, he wrapped both of his hands around the demon’s throat to stop any fire that might escape. But the demon seemed excited by the challenge and used its strong, massive wings to send Sabin flying off of him. The dragon demon turned toward the tree as the Goddess instructed and opened its mouth wide. Red and orange fire spewed toward the massive tree.
In the blink of an eye, Sabin was back up to throw himself in front of the flames. But the diameter of the fire was too wide, and he heard Tera scream from the impact as some of the flames made it to the redwood.
The sight of her writhing on the ground, her skin bubbling, smoke rising from her body, fueled a rage in him anew. He reached out to grasp the Quetzalem’s throat once more and the flames ceased. Using his other hand to pull free his gun, he jammed the silver and steel down the dragon-demon’s throat and fired.
He knew the astral bullets would not kill the Quetzalem, but he watched with satisfaction as the demon choked on its own fire. Reaching toward its head, he snapped the creature’s neck. The demon would still be functional despite the debilitating maneuver, but hearing the crack gave Sabin a brief moment of satisfaction as he continued to pummel the scales.
Sparing a worried glance in Tera’s direction, afraid of the silence, Sabin saw moss crawl slowly from the forest floor over her body. Baffled by the mystical occurrence, he watched until Tera’s body was almost completely covered in thick lime-green moss.
“Nunanish, tear apart that moss.” Hearing Eris’ voice focused Sabin from his furor. Slapping handcuffs on the dragon demon, he sent the Quetzalem to the prison in a highly disfigured state, regretting only that he didn’t have enough time to kill the ancient immortal creature.
“I don’t think so, Chaos.”
“I am a Goddess, you will address me as such.” She sneered at him as her Nunanish approached Tera’s moss-covered, unconscious form.
Sabin aimed and fired in an instant, an astral bullet penetrating the Nunanish demon’s blackened skin. Rushing toward his prey, he took advantage of its weakened state, tearing its head clean off.
“Your playtime is over, Goddess,” his words were dripping with lethal reserve.
“Oh no, Knight. Actually, it’s just the beginning.”
Suddenly, a soft, feminine voice broke from between the darkness of the tree. “No, Eris, you are done here.” From the pitch black of the forest, a dim blue light began to glow. The Goddess Artemis stepped lightly across large roots into the clearing. A glowing arrow shot from the darkness of the forest toward Chaos.
As the light from the arrow flickered, he saw two streaks of mud framing angry, green eyes. Her arrow pierced the astral image of Eris and blood began to seep from her fellow Goddess’ stomach. Artemis stood tall, her feet planted wide, her strong body hugged by her simple brown tunic. “I will not give you the satisfaction of my fury, Eris. Now return home and wallow in the fact that no one will care to tend your wound.”
The bleeding image flickered, and a single disappointed tear ran down her cheek. And then she disappeared. Sabin and the Goddess Artemis stood in the clearing, a black stain where the body of the Nunanish had dissipated between them. Tera’s still and silent body lay on the mossy hill.
Chapter Sixteen
Two days later, Sparrow sat at the divination table wondering if she should scry again for Tera. She hated to be the nosey friend butting into a hot love affair, but the damn woman wasn’t answering her phone. And Tera hadn’t even returned for a change of clothes since she left three days earlier. Probably because she doesn’t need any clothes while she’s with her man.
Sparrow eyed the map on the divination table. To scry, or not to scry. Walking away from the table, she padded down the long hallway to her bedroom and grabbed the Magic Eight Ball from atop her dresser. Holding the device in the palm of her hands, she concentrated on her question and shook the ball. Is Tera having hot sex? The blue-black liquid inside the ball swished, moving different answers back and forth. “All signs point to no.” Sparrow raised an eyebrow. Bummer. Panic washed over her.
“If the girl’s not having sex, then what is she doing?” Shaking the ball once more, she concentrated on her next question. Is Tera okay? Again, various answers jumbled inside the liquid until, “No.”
She gasped, “Are you kidding me?”
Running back down the hall with bare feet, she yelled for her aunts, but she knew they weren’t home. She’d have to scry on her own. Sparrow blamed it on her mom that she wasn’t very good at tapping into her natural-born powers, but she had no choice except to go it alone this time.
Lying on the floor of the meditation room, she let her mind go free to seep into meditation. Five minutes later, she had not meditated whatsoever, and instead had gone over every possible scenario of what could have happened to Tera. “Screw meditation. I’m a born Wiccan.”
Deciding to just go for it, she sat in front of the map dangling a crystal from her fingertips. “Concentrate, Sparrow.” But seconds later, she realized the crystal wasn’t going to cooperate. Using a booming voice as she balanced the chain between her finger
tips, she used her most effective incantation. “I am Sparrow! Hear me roar.” Yeah, like that was going to work. Time to pull out the big guns.
Poking her head out of the divination room, she glanced up and down the hallways. Still nobody home. Navigating her way to the kitchen, Sparrow opened the fridge and spied the bottle of absinthe. It’s five o’clock somewhere …
She eyed the bottle ruefully. Absinthe was nice when muddled with caramelized sugar and ice water, and sipped over a long hour — not binging for magickal purposes. After this, I’m signing up for Drunken Wiccans Anonymous.
Grabbing a souvenir shot glass from her last family trip to Ireland, Sparrow made her way back to the divination room. On one side, MP3 speakers sat, surrounded by a rainbow of large candles. If I’m going to get plastered, might as well do it in style. She scrolled through the music player until she reached her drinking play list.
The strums of Harry Nilsson’s famous coconut ballad began as she prepared to slam back her first shot of however many was necessary to lose herself to the magickal side of her mind.
Wincing from the potent alcohol and licorice twang of the drink, she slammed down her shot glass and began filling another one to the brim.
She poured more mint-colored liquor down her throat. “Feel the burn.” Her voice took on a sexy rasp from the alcohol as she crooned before her next shot. The Celtic cross on her shot glass welcomed the sea-foamy green liquid.
“Oww-oh woot!”
Clearly, the wormwood and thujone in the 140-percent-proof absinthe was quickly settling in. By the time the song ended, Sparrow was quickly realizing if she drank any more, she’d probably pass out before she ever got a chance to scry.
In her mind, Sparrow waltzed gracefully over to the music player and switched the off button. In truth, her tiny feet crisscrossed wildly and she all but collided with the stereo. Collapsing back into the chair, she grasped the chain with the crystal between her fingertips and held it above the map.
