by Wray Ardan
Moments later Hubs came out the back door onto the porch. A pain-filled expression froze on his face when he glanced up at the crow above the trees. His legs moved as if they were stuttering, like his words, as he spoke Jaden and Briz’s names.
When only Briz turned in response, Hubs’s features caved in with grief.
Still hovering above the yard, Jaden looked at Datura. The crow swooped down, hopping around the creature. Jaden wondered if Datura would miraculously regenerate. If all of the Mal Rous would. As the Professor had believed.
She watched as Hubs pulled his car around to the back of the house and unloaded some supplies. Briz continued to hold his shirt against Jaden’s stomach, watching dully as Hubs tied the Mal Rous up as planned with duct tape, rope, and bundles of wire.
“Does the re-refri-figerator work?” Hubs asked Briz while he stuffed the small bodies into gunnysacks.
“I think so,” Briz answered softly.
“I’m gonna st-store them in it. My mama says w-when the mu-mushroom comes, w-we should boil them all in the mixture.”
Jaden understood why the triplets wanted to boil them. They couldn’t risk the smoke from the Mal Rous’ burning bodies impregnating everyone’s lungs, poisoning the entire town, altering people’s cells, and transforming them all into Mal Rous.
Like me.
One at a time Hubs hauled the burlap sacks into the house. Jaden wanted to tell him where Esere was buried. And that Anders was still in the cave, but should be easy to drug with the triplets’ concoction. But Jaden knew that Ava would let Hubs know this when she was conscious.
Briz stroked Jaden’s cheek. Her ethereal body lowered next to him, wishing she could feel his touch.
When the Mal Rous were sealed away, Hubs locked the doors of the house. Then he came outside and stood near Brooke and Ava. Rubbing his fingers against the faded scars on his throat, he stared at their bodies.
With great care he carried each of them to his car and placed them in the back seat. He opened the front passenger door and walked back to Briz. Putting his hand on Briz’s shoulder to let him know it was time to move Jaden, Hubs bent down and lifted her into his arms, then patiently waited for Briz to stand.
Briz got up and held out his arms to carry Jaden himself.
Like a butterfly Jaden flitted above him. She wondered what would happen when the car drove off. Will my silver cord break, setting me free from this world, this reality?
Briz eased her body into the front seat of the car.
The crow flew up behind Jaden and hung in mid-air, stretching its shimmering black wings. They curved around her head, ruffling her hair and covering her eyes.
All she could see was blackness.
Then Briz’s lips were pressing against hers.
Breathing him in, Jaden’s body shivered and spasmed as it reunited with itself. Waves of unconsciousness swept over her as Datura’s venom completed its journey, spreading through.
CHAPTER 49
Hubs drove in silence, wishing he could turn back time. If only he’d arrived at the house sooner. Maybe Jaden and her family and Briz wouldn’t have been hurt. He glanced at the glove box where he’d stashed the gun he’d borrowed from Stella. Shooting the Mal Rous may not have ended their lives. But it might have incapacitated them. Stopped them from harming everyone.
His passengers, including Briz, remained unconscious, sprawled in his car. He knew Mama and his aunties could help the boy and Jaden’s mama and sister. But the knife wound in Jaden was deep.
She needed a real doctor.
As he neared town, Hubs slowed to the speed limit. Now was not the time to be pulled over by the sheriff.
“Where are we?” Briz asked, stirring awake as they pulled to a stop in front of a well-kept house.
“My Aunt L-Laura’s.” It was obvious from Briz’s expression that he didn’t know whom Hubs was talking about. “She’s a d-doctor … Dr. Sc-Schilling.”
Hubs knew his grand-pere had told Aunt Laura that wild animals had attacked Hubs at Guyon Manor when Hubs was a little boy. It was probably for the best if she didn’t know that the animals were mutant experiments.
He worried that she wouldn’t help him, that she’d turn them away. Then reminded himself that his aunt was nothing like Uncle Cape. Maybe she’d sew Jaden up, no questions asked. It was Hubs’s only hope.
His mama and aunties were good at what they did. But they weren’t doctors.
CHAPTER 50
The cool air pressed against Jaden’s skin as she looked down at the swampy wetlands and marshes weaving through the bayou. Stretching out her arms, she let the tips of her fingers touch the tips of a crow’s wings as it soared next to her. Then the sound of a snarling twang sent her plummeting toward the water.
“Wake up! Come on Jaden, wake up.”
Over the past few weeks, that voice had become implanted in Jaden’s brain. Sitting upright in bed, she stared into Datura’s face. Certain that she was still dreaming, Jaden pushed her aside. “But you’re dead.”
“Ha! Ya know we all can’t be destroyed. A rusty machete and a knife wouldn’t put no end to me. Stun me, knock me out for a while, but not kill me. Get up! The others are waitin’ by the dock. It took us a couple ‘a days to sniff ya out. Come on. Esere found Anders. He’s gonna be okay.”
“Esere? You told me he died. You buried him.” Jaden cringed.
They all survived.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Datura started taking the covers off Jaden. “Ends up, buryin’ him was the smartest thin’ we could ‘a done. ‘Cause ‘a his plant DNA, he just went into hibernation. Dormant. The little guy just dug his way outta the ground once he healed up.”
“I’m not going with you.” Jaden yanked her covers back from Datura. “I missed being a nice person. It was exhausting being afraid and angry all the time. Go away.”
“Ya is nuts. It’s in yer blood. Yer a natural. Look at yer sister. She done run over Esere, gouged a knife into Anders’s eye. It runs in yer family. Ya didn’t need my blood to change. I just set yer inner demon free.”
“You changed the wrong sister. This was never supposed to be my path. I wasn’t meant to be hateful and mean.”
“Sure ya was. Ya is just like us. Come on. Ivan said he forgives ya for slicin’ his throat. Fact is, he admires ya for bein’ so bloodthirsty. Me too. But we’re all in agreement ‘bout that boy Briz. His time is up. Tig can’t wait to bite into him, watch him die. Unless, ‘a course, we change him, too. The two ‘a ya could spread our bloodline to yer offspring.”
“No! You’re not changing Briz. And I’m not spreading your bad blood anywhere.”
“Hey, ya weren’t the only one changed. I never had a conscience till I bit into ya.”
“Well, it didn’t help you much. I never saw any improvements in your personality.”
“Some things take time. Now get dressed. We gotta go.”
“Leave me alone. You can’t manipulate me any more. Anyway, I’m tired. I can’t help you now. I need to sleep. Even then, I’m not making any promises.”
Datura raised her hand, her claws extended.
For some reason she didn’t strike. Maybe she was changing after all. But her tone was menacing as she said, “Fine. Only, we has to leave before the sun comes up.”
As Datura climbed from the bed and walked out of the room, Jaden recalled that the triplets had wanted her to get some of Datura’s blood for one of their homeopathic cures.
Later. If this isn’t a dream and Datura’s really alive, I’ll get it later.
Jaden rolled over and went back to sleep.
When she awoke, dawn filled the air and Datura was nowhere around. Jaden felt gauze taped over the holes in her neck and saw well-healed punctures in her arms. Pain shot through her stomach when she sat up. Pulling up her shirt, she stared at the stitches, and vague memories appeared in her mind like one of her unfinished pencil drawings, still missing the details. She thought she recalled Dr. Schilling’s ho
me, Hubs by her side as the doctor cleaned and stitched her wound.
Why can I remember?
Datura pumped thornapple into me. Did her blood prevent it from working?
Jaden looked around and realized that Violet was asleep in a chair near the window. On the table next to her sat a dirty glass and half a bottle of Jaden’s brew. She had the uncomfortable feeling that she might have fought with the Bellibone and triplets when they’d been trying to get her to drink it.
Lowering her feet to the floor, wincing at the pulling sensation in her stomach that she felt with each step, Jaden tiptoed into the living room. She was relieved to find her mom and sister there, alive, sleeping on cots near the large window. Marks from Ivan’s fangs resembled fading birthmarks on her mother’s neck. Ava’s wrist was bandaged. The set of her mouth was tight even when she was asleep.
Ava already hated me. There’s no way she’s ever going to let me forget any of this. And why should she?
Forgiveness. Jaden didn’t believe there was any likelihood of that. Not after everything she’d put everyone through. How would she ever be able to show her gratitude to the triplets? She owed them her life. She owed them the lives of everyone she loved. A lifetime of servitude wouldn’t be enough to repay them.
And Briz. He could have died.
As if her thoughts drifted through the air and captured a scent, her attention and body moved toward the couch. Even asleep, Briz drew her to him. She saw that his poison ivy had cleared up. The triplets had undoubtedly kept him covered in their pink ointment. There was a small scar under his eye. She remembered how it had been swollen shut, and she trusted it would heal.
Jaden flinched, recalling the expression on Briz’s face when he had hacked Datura with the machete and stabbed Tig. As their blood soaked into the ground, had it taken a part of Briz’s sweetness with it? Growing up wasn’t meant to be a dangerous experience. As soon as he woke, Jaden was going to send him home before he lost the rest of himself.
Hesitantly stepping out onto the screened porch, she tensed. Would Datura be waiting there for her? When the Mal Rou was nowhere to be seen, Jaden let out a slow breath of air. She decided that their little chat really had been a dream.
Or is the ghost of Datura haunting me … for all of eternity?
Jaden thought of the one Shakespearean quote that she knew. It was from The Merchant of Venice. She’d told it to Briz once, trying to impress him since he’d read so many of the plays. “If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?”
It was time for revenge, to get even. To finish off the Mal Rous.
Get even? Revenge?
Where had Jaden gone? Who was she now?
“Enough,” Jaden whispered. “Enough.”
She was ready to stop thinking about genetic crossbreeds and deadly bloodlines. She wanted to forget, at least for a while. To just watch the sunrise. To appreciate the beauty of the bayou when its dense air hadn’t yet settled close to the earth.
Behind her the floorboards creaked. She turned and saw Briz watching her through the screen door. Bare-chested, in rumpled shorts, with gauze wrapped around his leg. He was gorgeous.
Biting her lip, Jaden was aware that she still had Datura’s DNA flowing through her, and would probably be drinking the triplet’ concoctions for the rest of her life.
Briz’s eyes leisurely swept over her. All she had on was one of Hubs’s shirts. She felt grateful that she didn’t have the urge to lunge through the screen door and throw herself at Briz. For the moment her lustful impulses seemed contained.
Briz slipped out of the house and came up behind her. She wondered if her subdued desires would be fleeting, or if she would be compelled to wrestle him to the ground.
Leaning against him, Jaden felt his heart beat, his chest expanding with each inhalation, contracting when he exhaled. Her body moved in kind. She relaxed, the rhythm of her own breathing keeping time with his.
In a few weeks Briz would be traveling through Europe. By the time he returned, she’d be back in Colorado and would never see him again.
As they listened to the birds announcing the day, Jaden considered how from this point on, her image of life would be like one of the triplets’ patchwork quilts—remnants of events held together by a thin thread. Briz would be a piece of smooth satin fabric stitched into the quilt. His presence, the memory of him, would forever validate her experiences. They’d gone through so much together. There was no going back to being the kids they were four weeks ago.
In the distance came the sound of a motor laboring through the water. Hubs would be arriving soon. Then it would be time to implement the final demise of the Mal Rous. At this moment, Jaden really didn’t care. With Briz’s arms draped around her, she looked out onto the peaceful bayou. He kissed the top of her head. Jaden pretended that no one else existed.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading Sweet Desire, Wicked Fate, the first in a series of three books. Over the course of time as I wrote this story, all the characters—Jaden, Briz, the triplets, and yes, even the Mal Rous—have come to feel like close friends. I hope that, like me, you are looking forward to learning more about them and following them through to the end of their journey. As a first-time author, the process of writing the book was quite a learning experience (one I will greatly appreciate as I write the sequels). Though the Mal Rous are fictitious, who is to say what strange creatures may be genetically concocted in the future?
If you enjoyed Sweet Desire, Wicked Fate please spread the word. Being an independent author, I don’t have a corporate machine behind me helping to promote the book. My best source of advertising is you, the reader. Your input, whether in the form of posting reviews or pointing out any typos or errors, is greatly appreciated. The book has been professionally edited, but mistakes do happen. If something catches your eye that we've missed, please let me know. You can email me at [email protected]
May the joy of reading take you on many fun adventures.
Until book two,
Wray
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The late, great Joseph Campbell, author of The Power of Myth, was an advocate of following one’s bliss. Apparently, my bliss is about the art of rewrites.
Writing Sweet Desire, Wicked Fate has taken me on a journey of learning to face my fears and insecurities. I have learned that when writing a book, one is dependent on good friends who are willing to be honest and straightforward with you.
First and foremost, I’d like to thank Steven L. Smeltzer for not only creating the sculptures that inspired the story, but for telling me when I could do better.
Special thanks to my first readers, starting with my sister Robin for cheering me on and for spotting my typos. Viki Alonzi for reading many drafts of the story and letting me know when something didn’t work, as well as designing my website. Ed Monroe for pointing out annoying repetitions. Kathy Kasprzycki for letting me bend her ear and for her unfailing enthusiasm in the project. Victory Wallace for her detailed notes.
Thank you to Dr. Eve Berman for answering my strange and sometime gruesome questions. Authors Anne LeClaire and Linda Himelstein for their encouragement. Debra Basset and James Murdock III at Bassett Productions for wanting to option the movie rights before the book was even finished. Most important, thank you to my editors Lisa Levine and Paul Wood.
I would also like to thank all of the developers of the World Wide Web. The gift of the Internet has simplified the research that goes into writing a book, and has enabled writers to become authors through eBooks.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Wray Ardan lives on an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with an artist, five cats, and a parrot. Sweet Desire, Wicked Fate is the first in a series of three books.
To learn more about Wray Ardan, visit her website at wrayardan.com
bsp; Wray Ardan, Sweet Desire, Wicked Fate
