* * * *
“What the hell is she doing?” Wyatt asked.
I was pretty sure Lucy was flirting with me. Either that or she was really excited by the Corona she was drinking.
My inner beast let out a low growl.
Don’t you even start, I commanded.
“I mean, she’s basically making out with that bottle,” Wyatt said in disgust. “It’s almost like . . . holy crap, she’s totally coming on to you, dude. Oh man, she’s never, ever going to live this down.”
I ignored the kid because I had switched on my sight and what I was seeing made zero sense. Lucy’s aura didn’t have the powerful battle-mage appearance I expected. It did have a magical signature, but a very weak one. The thing that had really thrown me was the tell-tale sign of blood-magic. Lucy’s aura wasn’t completely infused with the red-black oily energy that marked every blood-mage I’d ever met, but it was there, weaving in and out of her aura like a nest of wriggling snakes.
Lucy—this version of Lucy—had been dabbling in blood-magic and by the look of it, rather recently.
“Every time she tries to make me do two-a-day training sessions, I’ll just remind her,” Wyatt said, still going on about Lucy’s flirting.
“Wyatt,” I said, trying to get the kid’s attention.
He continued on, “About how her subconscious was totally trying to seduce you.”
“Wyatt,” I said a little louder.
“Trying to seduce you by licking and stroking a beer bottle, she’s a acting like a total–”
“Wyatt!” I had to shout.
The kid jumped in his seat. “What? Geez, I’m sitting right here, dude.”
“There’s something wrong with Lucy’s aura. I know it sounds crazy, but she’s got blood-magic residue crawling all over her.”
“What? No way, man.”
“I’m serious, she’s at least been in the vicinity of a blood-magic ritual.”
“We’re inside her head, this isn’t real. It’s probably just part of what her brain is making up,” Wyatt tried to reason.
I shook my head. “This isn’t some made-up dream. It’s a memory, Lucy’s memory, of this time and place. The magic just creates whatever she remembers and I’m telling you that whenever this is, she’s been dabbling in blood-magic.”
“Orson, Lucy hates blood-mages, like hates with a capital H. There’s got to be another explanation.”
“The Lucy we know hates blood-mages, but this Lucy, from this time, how do we know what she was like? She never talks about herself.” I looked back at the bikini-clad girl, who was still flirting hard and acting like anything but the Lucy I had gotten to know over the past month. “Maybe this is why, maybe she’s ashamed of whatever happened during this time?”
“I just can’t believe it,” Wyatt said. “I mean, this is Lucy we’re talking about.”
“Well, it’s time we find out,” I said, standing up. “She obviously wants me to come over and say hi. Wait here for now, let me try to see what I can do.”
I started walking toward the cabana where Lucy and her friends had set up camp. I tried to lock eyes with Lucy, but she had on ridiculously large sunglasses, so it was impossible. I stared directly at her and let a slow grin spread across my face. I watched intrigued as Lucy responded to my attention. She straightened a bit, set her beer down, reached up and tilted her sunglasses down ever so slightly so she could peek at me. I was thirty feet away from her and I raised my hand to wave.
That’s when the gigantic Caesars Palace pool exploded in a geyser of water that shot two hundred feet in the air.
And this wasn’t a Bugs Bunny cartoon, so the water didn’t splash neatly back into the pool. Instead it washed out the entire pool deck sending furniture and people tumbling backward. I extended my claws and dug into the cement to keep myself from being tossed sideways.
My Ollphiest senses exploded; there was danger in the water, but where? I spotted it as it crawled over the side of the now half-empty pool. I had to be imagining things, because standing in front of me was a demon-dog. At least, that’s what I called them when I was a kid.
When I was ten, my Aunt Tina had fought a losing battle when I insisted on watching the original Ghostbusters—you know, the good one, with Dan Aykroyd and Bill Murray—every Saturday morning for like a year straight. The thing standing in front of me was what Rick Moranis and Sigourney Weaver turned into at the end of the movie—demon-dogs.
Seriously.
Only the demon-dog that just crawled out of the Caesars Palace pool had an additional, fun anatomical feature. Three long, whip-like tentacles extended from either side of its torso. And before my brain recovered from the shock of the movie monster standing in front of me, one of those nasty tentacles shot out and wrapped itself around my ankle, violently yanking me forward. My claws ripped free of the concrete and I tumbled toward the snapping jaws of the demon-dog.
This was going to suck.
CHAPTER 8
Lucy took a few deep, calming breaths. Mr. Muscles was making a beeline for her, staring at her with deep, soulful, blue eyes. Today was now in the running for the best day ever, even beating out the time she had scored backstage passes to a Cyndi Lauper concert. Lucy struck a sexy pose, peering over her sunglasses like a Cosmo cover girl.
Mr. Muscles was now close enough that she could see his shirt was way too tight, it was kind of gross, like, we all know you have a great body, you don’t have to try so hard. Oh well, she could deal with a tight shirt. Maybe she could buy him something new with her winnings. Lucy smiled and thought, Oh yeah, I’ll take him shopping like he’s my man-candy.
As Lucy imagined what Mr. Muscles would look like without his shirt, some a-hole set off a water cannon. One second she was basking in the Las Vegas heat, waiting to make her move on a super-sexy hunk of man, and the next she was blasted with cold pool water. And it wasn’t a gentle splash, Lucy’s beer went flying and her glasses were knocked off her face.
“What the hell!” Penny shouted.
When Lucy glanced over she saw that her friend had not only been thrown from her lounge chair, but her bikini top had been washed sideways leaving her boobs exposed. It would have been funny if it weren’t for the screaming. Lucy and her friends had been lucky, because the cabana had taken the brunt of the water. The other people lying out by the pool hadn’t been so fortunate and they were the source of the screams. There was lots of blood, mostly from people scraping their skin against the pool decking. Lucy’s stomach flip-flopped when she saw a girl with a broken arm, the bone poking out of the skin.
As the initial shock wore off, people started trying to help the injured.
“Lucy, are you okay?” Morgan was shouting.
“What?” Lucy asked, distracted by the scene.
“Are you hurt?” Morgan asked.
“What? Oh, no, I’m okay,” said Lucy. “Penny?” Lucy turned back to her friend who had straightened out her top situation.
“I’m okay,” Penny answered. “What was that? It was like a water bomb.”
“Something happened in the pool,” Morgan said, clearly just as confused as everyone else.
Mr. Muscles?
Lucy’s man-candy had been walking really close to the pool. She turned, searching for him. Mr. Muscles wasn’t hard to spot because he was the only person left in an upright position next to the pool. He was hunched down in a crouch, like a football player, and there was something wrong with his hands. His fingers looked weird, they were too long.
“Oh my god, what is that?” Morgan whispered.
Just the tone of Morgan’s voice sent a shiver down Lucy’s spine. He didn’t just sound scared, he was totally freaking terrified. Lucy adjusted her gaze and immediately wished she hadn’t, because while she had been examining Mr. Muscles’ hands, some—thing—climbed out of the pool.
“Run!” Morgan screamed, grabbing her hand and yanking her along behind him.
Penny was ahead of them, scrambling through
the pushing, frightened crowds. Lucy couldn’t explain why, but it felt wrong to be running. She needed to stay, to help Mr. Muscles fight whatever had just climbed out of the pool. She tried to slow down, to pull her hand from Morgan’s death grip, but it was too late, the surging crowd around her was propelling her forward. Lucy did get one more glimpse of Mr. Muscles. It was the horrific sight of a tentacle from the pool-monster snagging one of Mr. Muscles’ legs and violently dragging him toward what had to be certain death.
Not likely.
The thought had popped into Lucy’s head from out of nowhere and weirdly it made her feel better.
* * * *
The demon-dog was massive, really strong and seemed hell-bent on biting my head off. I kept trying to stop my forward progress, my claws leaving long jagged grooves in the cement behind me. Its mouth and nasty teeth were getting closer by the second.
“Yeeeee-haaawww!” Wyatt screamed as he blinked circles around the demon-dog.
The kid was swinging a broken chair leg like he was trying to hit a home-run.
Blink.
Hit.
Blink.
Hit.
I have to admit it was a great plan. Try to distract the demon-dog and give me time to free myself. The only problem with the plan was the tentacles all seemed to have a mind of their own, so no matter how many times Wyatt cracked the thing with his makeshift bat, the tentacle holding me never wavered in its grip and quickly a second tentacle was able wrap itself around my arm.
Enough.
Agreed.
I wasn’t exactly sure how my Ollphiest abilities would play out here in Lucy’s version of the Matrix, but so far things seemed fairly normal—well, as normal as demon-dogs attacking a Las Vegas pool crowd can be, that is. The demon-dog’s mouth was now close enough that I could smell its foul breath.
“Ugh, dude. You so need a Tic Tac.”
I shifted into beast form and roared.
Sorry, Wyatt. I hoped the kid was far enough away that my roar didn’t knock him for a loop.
My roar usually signaled the end of a fight because it was the equivalent of a sonic-bomb. My opponents would drop to the ground in a daze of pain and confusion, and I would step in and finish them off.
Usually.
Apparently when demon-dogs become dazed in a cloud of Ollphiest-induced pain, they clench their tentacles. My leg and arm exploded in pain. It felt like they were being crushed by about a million pounds of pressure. Wyatt used the moment to blink in and swing away on one of the demon-dog’s fluttering eyes. The eyeball didn’t stand a chance, popping like an over-ripe grapefruit. Wyatt blinked away the instant before a tentacle almost swatted him down.
The demon-dog, its eye oozing down its face, tottered on the edge of the pool, trying to fight the affects of my beast form shriek. It finally lost the battle and toppled backward into the pool. Unfortunately it pulled me along for the ride.
There was enough water left in the pool that I was immediately submerged. The water must have revived the demon-dog a little bit, because it started floundering around, causing me to be smashed against the bottom repeatedly. Now, I had spent my youth surfing the waves of Southern California, so I’m not unaccustomed to being pummeled while underwater, and I could hold my breath a good long while, at least one hundred twenty Mississippi’s. But it felt like the demon-dog had crushed the bones in my arm and leg into jagged little marbles and was grinding them together. The pain was unbearable and I was slowly losing the battle to give into a scream which would cause my lungs to fill with nasty demon-dog pool water. Even though I had a ton of cool super powers, I was pretty sure breathing water wasn’t one of them. I couldn’t believe it, I was going to get taken out by a stupid tentacle-demon-dog conjured up by Lucy’s imagination.
We are Ollphiest.
Yeah, I know, but I’m not sure that’s going to matter.
We are Ollphiest.
My inner baddie didn’t seem overly excited. It was like he was casually reminding me that we were indeed Ollphiest. As if just the knowledge that I was a giant supernatural bear . . .
Oh.
Right.
So stupid, but in my defense the pain in my arm and leg was epic.
I shifted into bear form.
The tentacles wrapped around my arm and leg were instantly shredded, sending little sushi-sized demon-dog pieces spinning away in the water. The pain disappeared, my Ollphiest magic sending healing waves throughout my body. With the pain gone I realized that I could now hold my breath way longer than one hundred twenty Mississippi’s.
We are Ollphiest.
My beast raged.
I jumped onto the demon-dog, my jaws snapping, claws gouging. I ripped another three tentacles off the thing, blinded its other eye and tore a gory gash into its belly. The water was turning into blue-green slime. The demon-dog was losing a lot of blood and slowing down, the fight was almost won.
Poof.
The demon-dog disappeared.
It didn’t become invisible.
It didn’t turn into ash like some the nasties I’ve fought.
It was just gone.
And so was all of its blood.
I shifted back to human form and surfaced, which wasn’t too hard in a half-empty pool.
“Where’d it go?” I shouted.
Wyatt was standing on the edge of the pool, gripping his chair leg.
“Dude, are you okay?” he asked, a worried expression on his face.
I waved. “I’m good. But where’s the demon-dog thingy?”
“Um. Just saying what I’m about to say freaks the hell out of me, but it looked like it blinked.”
“No way,” I said, turning in circles. The thought of a teleporting demon-dog was just too much for my brain to process. I splashed at the water. “If it blinked, then it took all the pieces I ripped off and its blood with it. That’s not how blinks work, right?”
“Not in my experience, no.”
A familiar rumbling sound began to ramp up, heading quickly toward a deafening roar.
“Uh oh,” said Wyatt. “I know that sound . . ..”
“Crap, I think you’re right.”
Whoosh!
Bang!
I was falling through nothing again.
* * * *
Morgan was pulling Lucy behind him, simultaneously pushing Penny in front. Running was out of the question, the crowd was too out of control. The people from the pool were yelling, screaming and bleeding, while the people in the casino were angry that their gambling time was being so rudely interrupted. Lucy watched in disbelief as a guy started shoving a woman who had run inside to get away from whatever was going on at the pool. Just because she backed into him and messed up his roll of the dice.
That’s not right.
Lucy pulled her arm free from Morgan’s grasp. The combination of sweat and suntan oil helped.
“You stupid bitch!” The guy was hollering at the frightened woman.
Lucy marched straight up to the jerk and kicked him in the balls, hard.
“Noof-influ,” the guy managed to squeak, before collapsing to his knees.
Lucy smiled at the woman, who looked awestruck at what Lucy had done.
Morgan grabbed Lucy’s arm again. “Are you nuts? You’re going to get arrested.”
“He was being a dick,” said Lucy. “They’re all being dicks. Something very bad just went down outside and all they care about is gambling.”
“I agree, everyone’s a dick, but you can’t just kick strangers in the balls. The cops will be here any second and things are going to get really serious.”
As if conjured up by Morgan’s words the Las Vegas PD swarmed the casino, guns drawn. All of the exits were blocked, nobody was allowed to enter or leave.
A voice boomed out of overhead speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, there has been an incident that requires the assistance of the police department. We have been instructed to tell you that no one will be allowed to leave the casino floo
r until the area has been secured.”
A groan went up. Even Lucy wasn’t happy. Going up to the suite was the only thing she wanted to do.
The voice droned on, “Complimentary beverages and food will be made available. We are sorry for this inconvenience and we appreciate everybody’s patience in this matter.”
“Come on.” Morgan tugged at Lucy’s hand. She allowed herself to be led and noticed for the first time that Penny had a hold of Morgan’s other hand. He really is the best guy I’ve ever known, she thought to herself.
Morgan was smart, heading for the sports betting area where there were nice comfortable chairs to crash on. Lucy realized where he was leading them and skipped ahead, getting three chairs together before the angry crowd descended.
“Brilliant idea, Mr. Crawford,” said Lucy.
Morgan helped Penny sit down. She looked really shook up, her teeth were chattering and she was rocking herself back and forth.
“Hey, Penny girl, you okay?” Lucy asked, reaching out to stroke her friend’s hair.
Penny smiled. “Do you think we could get a couple of shots of tequila? Actually, I’ll take anything we can get.”
Lucy chuckled. “A woman after my own heart.”
“You two going to be alright if I go looking for some refreshments?” Morgan asked, standing up. “You’ll be okay guarding the seats?”
“I’m a ball-whacker,” Lucy said calmly. “If anyone tries to take your chair, they’ll seriously regret it.”
“Hell, yeah,” Penny stammered around her chattering teeth.
Morgan grinned and gave them a double thumbs-up.
Lucy watched him weave his way through the throng, happy that he was here even if he was being overprotective. She thought about Mr. Muscles, about his hands. She’d finally figured out why they’d looked so weird. After the tidal wave splashed out of the pool, they had turned into claws.
Lucy couldn’t say with a hundred percent certainty, but she was pretty sure Mr. Muscles was like Piper, he was a shape-shifter. Which meant whatever had come out of the pool was probably some kind of shape-shifter too or some other fantasy-book monster.
Lucy: A Paragon Society Novel (Book 3) Page 8
