by Calinda B
“Mondo,” Boobs says in a sultry, simpering voice. “We will give you pleasure. No cost. Free.” She rubs the front of his trousers and swallows, like a snake swallowing a rat.
“Oh, that’s a guarantee.” I’d like to be ramming down that throat of hers. “Knock it off,” Armando yells. Shit. I’d like to do her right now.
“Oh, please, Mondo, we know we’ve been bad, don’t we, Lina?” Lips whimpers.
Boobs picks up her cue like the pro that she is. “Oh, Mondo, we need to be spanked. Handcuff us to the bed. Make us your slaves. We promise to make it up to you.” She proceeds to unzip him, right in front of the small building where the geeks work.
“Get down on your knees,” Armando commands.
Boobs pulls his flaccid cock into her mouth and sucks. “It’s like a little lollypop,” she coos.
“It’s not a fucking lollypop!” Impatient rage blooms in Armando’s chest. Goddamned fucking cock. Goddamned fucking whores. He grabs Boobs’ hair and twists it hard. She winces and whimpers, but doesn’t stop sucking him. “Yeah, baby,” he says, tugging on her hair. His cock lurches into action. “You,” he says to Lips. “Kiss me.” When she brings her lips close to his, he bites her, drawing blood. He sucks on the bloody lips, gorging on her pain. “Oh, yeah. That’s hot. Turn around, Boobs. Against the wall.”
An aging couple stops and stares at him from across the dusty street.
“What are you looking at?” he yells.
The pair turns and scurries away like a couple of rats.
Boobs leans against the stucco wall. “Ouch, Mondo, this hurts my hands.”
“Deal with it.” He pulls his cock free of his trousers and gives it a few swift strokes. He plunges inside of Boobs and pumps, as if he’s dredging for oil. “Over here, Lips. I’m not done with you. Back against the wall. Shirt off. Do it. Now.”
Lips peels off her shirt obligingly.
Armando grasps the closest melon-like breast and fits his mouth over the nipple while rocking in and out of Boobs. He groans and moans, seeking release. Hurting these bitches is what gets him off. Inflicting pain gives him pleasure. This is only the start. This is nothing. They’ll pay. Oh, how they’ll pay.
When he finishes, he shoves both of them away from him. “Get out of here!” he commands the pair.
They saunter away, laughing. “You can’t do anything to us, Mondo,” Boobs calls from across the street. “We belong to her now, not you. We did what we were told and now we’re done. She, at least, made her mark pretty.”
“Bitches like you are a dime a dozen.” Armando yanks up his zipper and angrily stuffs his shirt inside of his waistband.
“Maybe so.” She pulls a bent cigarette she bummed off of some guy out of her bra. Lighting it, she waves it airily back and forth as she speaks. “How much action you think you’re going to get when we tell the others how weak you are? When we tell them that a mere girl undid what you thought was so powerful?” They break into gales of laughter.
Cold rage frosts his insides. “I’m not done with you.”
“Ooh, we’re scared,” Boobs says, picking a piece of tobacco off of her front tooth.
“You should be. That girl, as you call her, is nothing but an untrained charlatan. I’ll crack her without any problem. As for you two…” He points his hand towards the pair, muttering a secret phrase. “Let’s see how far you get and what kind of action you get as conjoined twins.”
The two women whiz together like they’ve been shoved toward one another. Boobs and her friend look down in horror to see their hips fused together at the sides. Boobs lunges toward Armando and her “glued at the hip” friend falls, taking them both to the ground.
“Don’t forget to watch the rear,” Armando says.
Boobs looks at her friend’s behind. A screech leaves her throat. “He gave us horsetails! Horsetails!”
“Have fun getting any action, freaks.” Armando laughs as he strolls away from the two whores. “Be at my apartment at sundown. I have another little job for you. If you want to be restored to your former selves, that is.”
As Armando stalks toward his hotel, he fumes. That little bitch Marissa Engles! Who does she think she is sending me a message? Me! Me! Armando the Great Navid! And how the hell did she undo my brand? “And fucking hell,” he mutters. “She makes me hard. All that power.” He’s so obsessed with thoughts of her that he nearly careens into a group of teenage boys.
“That’s him,” one of the boys states. “That’s the old dude that Lina told me about!”
“Nothing but an old coot,” another boy snickered. “Has-been warlock.”
Armando flings his hands forward and turned the entire group’s heads into jackass heads. “Who’s laughing now?” he called to them. “Has-been, my ass.”
The group brays at him.
“Want me to turn you back?”
The group of boys nods their heads up and down.
“I don’t feel like it.” He laughs and strides away. Feeling better, he focuses his thoughts on Marissa. Beautiful. Talented. And powerful. “She is, perhaps, more powerful than my son. She is a force to be reckoned with.” He surges with greedy desire. “I’ve got one last secret to employ. I’ve saved the best for last,” he mutters, like a homeless man. Gabriela wisps into his brain like a wraith. “Buzz-kill,” he tells her. “Stop haunting me. Reveal yourself.” He pivots in a circle, looking right and left. “Where are you?” he screams. “Where the fuck are you?”
“You have to stop.”
Armando instantly stills. “Gabby? Gabby is that you? Gabby? Gabriela, talk to me. Reveal yourself.”
“Shhh,” the voice of his beautiful wife says inside his head. “There, there. There you go. Easy does it.”
Tears spring into Armando’s eyes. “That’s what you used to say to me. You used to hold me and say that to me.” He blubbers now, talking to himself and weeping like a tiny child. A small, warm breeze curls around his face like a caress. Armando sinks to his knees, in the middle of the dusty road. “Gabby. Come to me. Oh, Gabby!”
The silken draft makes one last circle around his head, ruffling his hair, tickling his cheeks and swirling around his ears, just like her fingertips used to do. The breeze vanishes, leaving him bereft in the still, sultry, smothering heat of this fucking little town. “This doesn’t change things,” he yells. “You either reveal yourself to me or I get the Light Rebel. That will destroy Daniel. Do you hear me? Gabriela? Do you hear me?” His ultimatum falls in the red soil like a rock. “I’ll take his power, Gabby. Every last ounce of it. You know I will. Gabby?” He strains his ears to hear her voice. “Gabby?” This time his voice shatters, the words emerging raw and ragged.
Bitterness cracks his heart, drying his tears. He staggers to his feet, resolved. He stabs the air with his finger. “You did this to me. You! Anything that happens from this day forth will be on your head, Gabriela. I’ll make you pay. I’ll make all of you pay. You, Daniel, Marissa Engles. I will be powerful once more, you just wait and see.”
The only creature listening to him is a sorry looking dog. It cocks its head and scratches at its fleas before rising and trotting off into the distance with a ghost Chihuahua by his side.
Chapter 30
Tom the falconer and sorcerer pops into human form once he reaches the brightly painted house him and Betty are renting. In a gesture of urban revival the homes in this neighborhood are painted vivid greens, pinks, blues, and reds.
Crazy Betty reaches down to scoop up her ghost dog, Buddy. “There you are, you little rascal. Did you go out and keep Poppa company? Oh, yes, you did. Oh, yes, you did. Who’s a good boy, huh? Who’s my best little boy?”
The see-through Chihuahua licks her face, just like he did when he was alive.
“So what did you learn? Anything?” she asks Tom.
“Oh, I learned a mess of stuff. Armando’s starting to lose it, big time.”
“What’s he up to now?” Crazy Betty settles her bulk into the woven recycled wicke
r plastic chair. The house came fully furnished, which was a plus. The furnishings are not as cozy as she would have preferred. She pats her lap, and Buddy leaps into his old, familiar spot.
“Let’s just say things aren’t going as he planned. And he’s talking crazy talk, about how he’s going to destroy his son, get the Light Rebel…things like that. Marissa brings a whole new spin to our world. His wife has found a way to torment him without letting him know where she is. And his love of and reliance on all things technology is being thwarted by the Stealth Numen and the Light Rebel. She catches on quickly, that girl.” Tom chuckles. “I had my doubts. She was just a wisp of a thing, all shy and scared and full of questions and fear when Daniel brought her to my house to learn a thing or two about falconry. But she’s a quick study, that’s for sure.”
“Yes, she’s a dear.” Crazy Betty scratches Buddy’s head. “I worry about her. I was thinking about adopting her. Now that she knows who we are, as Numina, I mean, I thought she might be amenable to that. I mean, her parents have been dead for years. She could use some guidance, don’t you think? I’m wise enough, and I’m definitely old enough. What do you think?”
Tom’s face creases in puzzlement. “Now, where on God’s good Earth did that thought come from? I tell you woman, your conversational style is a study in circles. Where was I? Oh, right, Armando. I’m a little worried about what he’s planning next. I followed him to a warehouse jam-packed with an arsenal of weapons. Real live weapons, not just magic ones. I think he’s going to resort to old school war tactics.’
“Well, he was a special ops Marine.” Crazy Betty taps her fingernails on the plastic wicker side-table. “What do you think? Should I have her call me Momma, Mom, or just Betty?”
“Back to this again? Betty, stay focused, will you? Can you?”
“I can do just about anything, you should know that by now. Can’t I, Buddy? Oh, dear me, I think he’s got fleas again.”
Tom shakes his head. “Betty…”
“Could you run downtown and get us a flea collar?”
“Betty…”
Betty looks up from her spirit dog. “What? You’re always thinking dire thoughts, you know that?”
“This situation calls for dire, don’t you think?”
“Should it?”
“Do you even remember what we’re talking about?”
“Of course I do, you old fool! Should we warn them?”
“Probably. They haven’t been showing up at any ether meetings lately.”
“Marissa doesn’t know to attend them. The Stealth Numen rarely comes. When he does, he always remains in the shadows. The Night Numen is still locked away, and he hates them anyway. Kids these days don’t like the stuffy organizational requirements of the Numina. Who can blame them?” Her wrinkled hand wanders along the invisible dog’s back, searching for fleas. “They’re all upsetting the balance of things, those three. Isn’t it exciting?”
Tom scoffs. “I guess that’s one word for it. I call it a pain in the ass. I’m getting too old for this kind of stuff.”
Crazy Betty eyes Tom. “You’d best not be talking old. Not with my needs.”
Tom chuckles. “Don’t you worry about that part.” He gives his crotch a squeeze. “I’m ready when you are.”
“That’s more like it.” She picks up a magazine and fans her face. “It’s so hot down here. I like it better up in Seattle.”
“We’ll be back there soon enough. I’m sure Beelzebub is getting mighty cranky. I’ve taken him out several times for ether flights, but he prefers flights in Earth form.”
“At least he gets out.” She peers at her ghost dog. “These fleas have got to be dealt with.”
“Betty…”
“Hand me the cards, will you, dear? Let’s see what the spirits have to say.”
Tom retrieves her beloved Tarot cards from the coffee table and hands them over. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with your cards lately,” he says in a pouting voice.
“Oh, don’t you fret about it. You’ll get some soon enough. I’ve got to keep my stallion happy.” She gives him a saucy grin, which belies her years. “Mama’s got you covered.”
“Is that a promise?” Tom asks, puffing up his chest.
“You know it is. Since when did you have to ask for lovin’? Scoot over the card table, will you? Buddy’s settled down for a little nap. Wee mite wears himself out.”
“You do know, he’s a ghost, right? He’s dead.”
Betty covers the dog’s tiny ears with her palms. “Hush, now. You don’t want to get him upset, do you?”
Tom sighs and drags the small, square table over to her side.
Crazy Betty cocks her head to listen to unseen voices. “This can’t be good,” she says, ominously.
“What are you getting?” Tom asks.
“That’s just it - nothing.” She shuffles the cards, taps them, cuts them, and proceeds to lay out a spread. A breeze ruffles the curtains and swirls into the room, scattering the cards. “That’s a bit strange. Can you pick the cards up please?”
“Yes, dear.” Tom smirks at her and does as he’s told.
Once the cards are in her hands, she repeats the process, same as before - shuffle, tap, cut. She lays the cards out one by one. Again, the breeze blows them from the table. The hair on her head prickles in alarm. “Oh, my. This is a first.”
Tom picks up the cards, taps them on the table, and positions the stack where she can reach it.
“I’m not going to be fooling with these cards again. The message is loud and clear.”
“Well, you’re going to have to interpret it. I can’t hear it.” Tom sits down on the arm of her chair.
“There’s no clear outcome. The threads are weaving into a new tapestry - one that we haven’t seen before. Oh, my. Oh, my goodness. We’re going to have to act fast.”
“What do we need to do?”
“You’re the sorcerer! Turn us into something! We need to find those kids! Have you ever been to the Shadow Lands?”
“Can’t say I have, but you know me - I’m always up for an adventure. How would you like to flit with me as a dragonfly?” He waggles his eyebrows up and down.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“What about that other thing?” Tom asks suggestively.
“This can’t wait. My adopted daughter is in danger.”
Chapter 31
As time wears on, I’m getting a good sense of what a Stealth Numen is and does. Ever since we ran into Kaine, Rafe has been doing his job - being secretive, silent, and stealthy. He flickers in and out of sight. His hand zips out to catch drones, like a frog’s tongue snatching a fly.
It’s easy to tell them apart from the rest of this world, once we knew what to sense. I’ve mastered the art of shooting the drones with beams of light issued out of my palms. They zap and fry like bugs in an electronic bug zapper. I got one small chuckle out of him and then nothing. He says nothing to me. His face is placid or else stony. I want to kick him in the nuts. Anything to get a reaction from him. This endless silence is getting old.
Half the time I can’t even see him, and this is not due to the Haloperidol. He shimmers in and out of form at will. He says what he’s doing is important. What he’s doing is vital to the cause. He says he has to go beyond the Shadow Lands to gain intel. “What kind of intel?” I ask.
He tells me there are deeper realms than the Shadow Land, that we’re on the trail to my lover, and then he simply disappears before my eyes.
After his last disappearing act, I got mad and gave up on trying to keep up with him or figure out what he’s doing. “Enough’s enough, Rafe!” I tell the warped world around me. “This is your world, not mine. Hey! Can you hear me?” My words echo and bounce all around me, distorted and skewed. I fall in a heap on this strange ground - spread out my arms and make angels in the dirt or whatever it is with my arms. We’re getting closer, I think. Daniel’s essence is growing stronger. In fact, I’m fairly co
nsumed by thoughts of him. I feel as if I’m sleepwalking, immersed in thoughts of Daniel Navid. I can feel his arms around me…I can feel his lips sucking mine. I can feel his hardness inside of me, stroking me into a passionate, fiery bliss. His dark eyes, dark hair, and dark skin draw me deeper into his own darkness. No wonder Rafe keeps disappearing.
I sit up, moody and discontent. I flick my fingers and tiny bolts of electricity shoot into the atmosphere, fizzle and fade from sight. Truth be told, all this Light Rebel business is easy. It’s mastering interpersonal relationships that’s hard.
I hold out my palms and paint bubbles with my mind. Some rest in the center of my hand and pop, spraying my face with soap. Some float away from me, warped and colorful, bringing a small smile to my face. I paint bright and beautiful colors in the air. “This place could use some color,” I mutter. I glance down at my chest - the place that holds my betraying, achy heart. Painting bright, sparkly little heart shapes on my black tank top, and adding a few skulls and crossbones, I mutter, “This place could use good sense.”
Since when did the heart rule by good sense?
I am instantly alert. I haven’t been able to connect with him for days. Now his thoughts scream inside my head with a deafening volume. I close my eyes and am overpowered by Daniel. He’s all I can sense, see, feel, and breathe. “Where are you, Daniel?” I whisper.
In the darkness. In a place you can never find.
I’m coming for you. I’ll find you. You can’t keep me away.
Marissa…
What? I’m not kidding. You and I have to sort things out between us.
I…I know. What I did was wrong.
I’m so surprised to hear that, I feel as if he’s punched me in the stomach. For a moment, I gasp for breath. Did you really say what I thought you said?
Yes. What I did was wrong. I took away your free will. It’s all I can think about. I’m consumed with undoing the wrong I have done.
My eyes flood with tears. I’ve been mad at you. Furious. Ever since you told me what you did, I’ve been enraged, trying to make it okay, furious that you did it. I’ve been conflicted, hurt, and afraid. You didn’t even give me a chance to say yes or no. You didn’t even ask me if I would agree to that. I don’t even know what it means to be soul bound. All I know is that you did it against my will.
