by Tate James
“My skills with dead people seem to be working out pretty damn well,” I said, remembering the horde of zombies dropping like flies. That and … Max. Warden. Damn it. Who cared what his stupid name was?! I just wanted five minutes to talk to the man … “Where were you during the fight?” I asked, letting Shane continue his ministrations on my hair. Billy rolled his eyes and dipped under the surface of the water as George took up a position on the outside of the tub and crossed his legs.
“I was staying well away from that …. that sperm donor,” Gram sputtered, reaching up to pat at her coiffed English curls. “Did you see how you wielded the power of the dead against his own creations? Do you want to see me forcibly sent over to the other side?”
Um, was that a rhetorical question because the answer was, uh, yeah, kind of.
Anyway …
“So I'm a necromancer, too?” I asked as Gram waltzed into the bathroom and gave the shiny new chrome fixtures, marble floors, and French baroque style mirrors a filthy look.
“All of this useless excess …” she murmured with a sigh, coming … uncomfortably close to Reg as he slipped off his pants and shirt and climbed into the tub, magicking the water that sloshed over the edge straight into the sink. “You do understand what's happening here, don't you, sweet bottom?”
“Not particularly—out of the loop, remember?” I said, trying not to shriek as I pointed at myself with a single finger. “Raised human, remember?” That second half was a tad accusatory, but … well, Gram could get stuffed. Or … ew, I'd just rather she didn't. “I don't actually happen to know what's going on.”
“Your … sperm donor,” she said which was sort of a weird thought considering I had like, six moms. Which one birthed me? Were they all egg donors? The science of elementals was a wee bit out of my grasp. “He wants the power of the storm dweller without the sacrifice.”
“He doesn't want to suck my egg donor moms dry?” I asked as Shane let go of my hair and Reg used his magic to rinse the soap from it, sliding warm water over my hair without getting a single drop into my eyes.
“These one-sided conversations are totally weird,” Billy murmured from my left. I ignored him, the runes on my skin sparkling prettily in the water. Guess all that magic had killed my new glamour, huh? Fantastic. Couldn't wait to choke down another rat tail.
“That's why he raised cuntmuffin, right?” I asked, because shit, if I couldn't remember to call Max Warden then I sure as hell wasn't going to remember some ancient elemental word for storm dweller. I had enough new supernatural facts to memorize, thank you very much.
“He raised kuntemopharn because he wants to use you to get the magic he's not willing to trade his wives for. Do you understand?”
“He wants to unstop our pipes and drain us dry?” I asked, figuring a plumbing metaphor was most apt for the situation.
“You're not as dumb as I'd always thought,” Gram said, rubbing at her small wrinkled chin. I didn't want to say anything, but even as a ghost, there were a few wiry hairs dotting the skin above and below her lips. Heh. Well, lesson learned—if I was going to die, I was going out plucked. “But yes, that's the gist of it.”
Gram paused at the edge of the tub and looked through her spectacles at me, face drawn and tired and sad. I felt compelled to grab a pair of loofahs and drag them over my hardened nipples. Hopefully my hoo-ha—and by hoo-ha, I mean cunt—was covered by the soapy film floating on the surface of the water.
“I'm sorry, sweetie,” she said as I cocked a brow and watched Gram lift her face to the ceiling. “I'm so sorry.”
As I followed her gaze up, I saw the ceiling sparkle with a pattern, much like the runes on my skin. They glimmered for a brief moment before going out … one by one, sizzling away like they'd been burned.
“I'm so sorry, Duckie,” Gram whimpered, putting her face in her wrinkled hands, see-through tears dripping down and dangling from her chin. “I had no choice …”
“The wards!” George said, standing up suddenly, like he'd just felt what I'd seen. There was this snapping sensation in the air, as if that entire transition from fall to winter was happening in a single cold snap. The water in the tub around me literally froze, locking me into a thick block of ice.
A scream managed to scrape from my throat as Reg shifted into dragon form, hitting his tail against the surface of the solid ice, freeing me, Shane, and Billy in a rush of warm water.
“I'm so bloody sorry!” Gram was screaming as I rushed out of the tub and snatched up my bat undies and t-shirt—just in time, too, because a woman was stepping into the bathroom doorway, her face in a severe frown, fingers curled around the edges of the door frame.
As soon as she saw me though, her mouth twisted up to the side in a smile.
“My sweet little baby,” she said mockingly, holding up a hand palm out when Reg snarled and bared his glimmering white shark's teeth at her. “If I were you, I'd hold off on the theatrics for a moment.”
The woman swept her finger in a circle and cut the electricity.
Well.
Didn't have to guess which elemental she was.
“Outside—you'll want to see our bargaining chip.”
She retreated slowly, long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and falling almost to the floor. But that mouth, that hair, her nose … it all looked like … well, me.
“Bargaining chip?” I asked as Gram's wails echoed around the house like a proper ghost, my heartbeat thundering like a team of horses. “And what the fuck is wrong with Gram?”
“Blossom, all the wards on the house are down,” George said, putting a hand on Reg's watery neck. This time, Reg was about the size of a small horse, a reminder that even though they did look like dragons, the boys were fluid, elemental—small enough to climb in a pipe or large enough to give me a ride, didn't matter. It was their choice. “They're all down,” George repeated. The look he gave me said he was debating grabbing me around the waist and making a run for it. But bargaining chip? Dude, if the bad guys had Britt … or Siobhan, I couldn't let anything happen to them. “Your grandmother took down her protection spells.”
Shit.
Well that explained the apologies …
“What the flipping fuck is going on?!” I growled, taking a page from Max/Warden's coloring book.
In my undies, I stormed out of the new bathroom and down the old staircase, heading straight for the open front door.
As soon as I emerged onto the sagging porch, I knew.
I felt it.
“Max,” I whispered as I caught sight of my ex/supernatural soul mate lying in a crumpled ball near a man's feet.
“Hello Arizona,” the man said, his blonde hair ruffling in a gentle breeze, a cluster of women surrounding him like a group of deranged Charlie's Angels. Knowing they were all somehow my biological moms was … really fucking weird.
“Stay sharp, Firebug,” Billy said from my right side, narrowing his eyes and pursing his lips. He looked about ready to kill somebody—good thing, too because it looked like that might be where this was all headed.
The bio dad bad guy and the mom horde was bad enough, but add in Warden … and the giant undead monster floating behind them and this was basically my worst nightmare come true.
A quick glance over at the boys revealed that we also had an audience. Alberta O'Sullivan was on her porch smoking a pipe and glaring at us, her wings fluttering slightly as she narrowed her eyes on me and mouthed fumblin' Dublin under her breath.
I ignored her and flicked my attention back to the supernatural army on Gram's lawn.
“What do you want?” I asked as Gram's wailing echoed out through the open door and around the neighborhood. Guess it was one—Arizona and one—Bio Dad. I'd taken his zombies; he'd played my grandma.
“I'm not interested in standing here, cackling and rubbing my hands together,” Bio Dad said, stepping over Warden's prone body and coming up to stand next to me. “I'm not into the villain routine.”
�
�Really?” I asked with a healthy dose of sarcasm and a dollop of skepticism. “Because coming to my house in the middle of the night with my college sweetheart lying half-dead on the ground, magicking my Gram, and freezing my bathwater sure cast some suspicion your way.”
The man tucked his hands into the stylish black jeans he was wearing. Honestly, like Charlie and Joan he looked way too fucking young to be my father. His eyes were the same color as my own, a pale mossy green with flecks of brown and gold. As soon as he met my gaze, I knew without a doubt that it was all true—this man was the source of at least part of my DNA.
“Daniel Troy,” he said, holding out a hand for me to shake.
I stared at it like it was poisoned, my breath coming in long, harsh gasps. I just wanted to save Warden and finish bathing and put some clothes on. What the hell was wrong with these people?!
“Well, being raised by humans has certainly affected your manners,” he said, lifting one curved blonde brow. Daniel dropped his hand. “Listen, Arizona, I'm not here to kill you and your husbands. In fact, I'm actually here to offer my help.”
“Your help?” I asked, crossing my arms over my breasts and wishing I was wearing a bra. It just felt like maybe I'd be able to kick a little more ass and take a few more names if my headlights weren't on full blast. “Why do I find that so hard to believe, after what happened with the COCS delegation?”
Daniel waved his hand dismissively, like that was of no concern to him.
“Originally, yes, I considered taking what I wanted and leaving, but Arizona, it doesn't have to be like that.” Daniel reached up to touch me, but Shane's hand lashed out and took hold of his wrist, shoving him back.
My bio dad just smiled.
“The thing is, there's a war coming, Arizona.” He retreated a few steps and moved over to the fruit tree in the middle of Gram's front yard, plucking a honey crisp apple off the branch. I watched in increasingly frustrated disgust as he took a bite out of it. “And yes, I could take your energy and run. But …” Daniel trailed off and cocked his head to the side, studying Alberta O'Sullivan like she was fascinating to him. After a moment, he glanced back at me. “I'd rather you keep making more.”
“Pardon?” I asked, blinking stupidly in his direction.
“Like a faucet,” George said from my other side, using yet another plumbing metaphor, “if he turns the tap on, he can have as much energy as he wants. As long as we're alive, we'll keep making more.”
“You want to … drain us not once but over and over and over?”
Daniel smiled and crossed his arms over his chest as one of my er, moms, knelt down and rolled Warden onto his back, putting her palm flat over his chest. It was the blonde woman, the energy elemental. As I watched, she pushed magic into Warden's chest that I could feel. The hairs on my arms stood up at attention; my scalp prickled. I felt like I'd just stuck my finger in an electrical outlet.
My heartbeat started to pound in time with Warden's—she was messing with the electrical impulses in his body.
“Arizona,” Daniel said, waving his hand and drawing the rotting, stinking snake of cuntmuffin's putrid flesh over to us. “This war, it'll benefit all of us, I promise. It's for a good cause.” He shrugged his shoulders like he didn't much give a shit if I believed him or not.
“A good cause?” I snorted. “I find that hard to believe given your casual disregard for life this far. Thanks but no thanks, Dad.”
I sneered at him, not trying to hide the disgust on my face or in my voice. As far as I was concerned, he was little more than a build up of toilet paper that needed breaking up and flushing away. Until he was, the shit would just keep piling up.
“You may want to reconsider that answer, daughter,” he warned, walking back over to Max's lifeless form and placing a foot over his neck.
“Or what?” I bluffed, hoping to keep him talking long enough to think of a way out of this mess. As it was, my guys were slowly spreading out around the yard and preparing themselves for a fight while Kuntemopharn loomed closer. Red tinted drool dripped from his massive fangs and his wings looked like they'd been nibbled at by giant moths.
“Or I'll change my mind about your usefulness and take your life as a consolation prize instead. Don't think that just because I'd prefer to keep you alive as a renewable source of energy, I won't be plenty satisfied with the one time magic boost I can get by draining the lot of you right here, right now.” His gaze held firm on mine, as unblinking as a sewer alligator, and I returned his stare with a stubborn tilt to my chin. Never negotiate with terrorists, right?
“So that's what you raised cuntmuffin from the dead for? To drain our magic for you to what? Take over the world?” I eyed the decaying mess of the undead dragon warily. We'd yet to see him in human form, if indeed he even had one, but I couldn't imagine it was very pretty.
“Actually no, I can do that all myself. We raised him to gain the knowledge of how to do so, but as I'm not quite prepared to sacrifice my own sept just yet, I'll need to settle for yours. Now, he's just exceptional backup, don't you think?” Daniel admired the festering sore of a reanimated elemental as though he were a prize poodle, and I shuddered. The smell of him alone was enough to curl my arm hairs.
“As charming as that offer is,” I grimaced, “like I said, thanks but no thanks. If you want our magic you'll have to fucking take it.”
For a moment, Daniel stood there considering my words then nodded and glanced at his wives. What a sexist pig, needing six wives to keep him happy.
“Kill them.”
His command was spoken in such a casual tone of voice he might just have easily been asking to pass the salt, had his wives not all burst into their dragon forms with enviable synchronization.
As one, they launched at my husbands and my front yard exploded in a clash of elements and battling dragons. Everywhere I looked there were teeth and claws and scales. The elementals battled with everything they had, but I was left alone.
My focus was distracted for a moment, watching in terror as Kuntemopharn swooped toward Billy only to be knocked back by a wall of flame, and when I looked back to where Daniel had stood over Max's body, my bio dad was gone.
Seeing an opportunity, I rushed down my porch stairs with the intention of getting to Max and checking he was okay. I'd barely made it three steps off the porch when something hit me from the side with the force of a Mack Truck, knocking me down and sending me skidding across the now soaking grass.
Groaning, I held my side and gasped for breath. What the fuck was that? My wondering didn't last long though, as a huge aubergine elemental pounced on me, pinning me to the ground.
“Don't worry, sweetie,” the dragon sneered—as much as a dragon could, really—as drool splattered my face, “Daddy's got you …”
Bracing myself for whatever was about to come, I gathered up some of my magic and used air to forcefully shove his scaly ass off me. Or, I intended to shove his scaly ass off me, but barely managed to halt the descent of his jaws from ripping out my throat. Oh well, small wins.
It had been enough to make him pause though, so I pressed my advantage and hit him with a ball of fire followed by some daggers of ice which forced him to release his grip on me and focus on defending himself.
Like some sort of overgrown crab, I scurried backwards on my butt to gain a bit of distance before hitting his with another hard gust of wind, this time tipping his balance and sending him crashing ass over tit farther down the lawn from me.
From my left, a flicker of light caught my attention. Lightning was raining down on the enemy elementals, striking them all repeatedly and tipping the scales back in our favor. The blonde energy elemental who, I guess, was also one of my mothers, tried to return fire but her bolts were weak and thin in comparison and Max knocked them aside with a wave of his hand.
“Max!” I gasped, the relief at seeing him alive almost knocking me on my ass. If I weren't already on my ass, that was.
“Sharpen up, Smokey,” he gro
wled at me, “these hectic bastards are as slippery as greased up piglets.”
What the fuck that meant, I had no idea. But he was right that I needed to sharpen up. Daniel had shifted back into his human form and was picking himself up from the grass and glaring daggers at me. My eyes darted around the lawn, making a quick assessment of how we were fairing, but it was hard to judge. Bio parents had us on numbers, but even I could tell that my sext was stronger—both magically and physically.
“Take a good look at your lovers; it'll be the last time you ever see them,” Daniel sneered, stalking closer to me before running smack into the wall of air I had erected in his path.
Obviously I knew it wasn't enough to hold him at bay forever, but it slowed him down and gave me a twisted thrill to see him bounce off the invisible barrier and land on his ass.
Not stupid enough to waste my time engaging this maniac in conversation, I kept my trap shut and prepared for him. As expected, he used his own magic to smash my wall of air down, then moved faster than I had thought possible, wrapping his hands around my throat as we flew through the air and landed on the grass some three or four yards away.
“Now, be a good girl for daddy and don't fight this.” The sick fuck pinned my limbs with steel-like shackles of tree roots then sunk his fingertips deep enough into my neck that blood began trickling down my throat.
Fuck. I was screwed. How the hell was I getting out of this?
The moment Daniel began sucking out my magic was unmistakable. Similar to when I had returned the shop assistant's essence—when I accidentally stole it during my mind-blowing orgasm—the sensation was like that of a giant Band-aid being ripped off my soul. Only this time, while the Band-Aid was being ripped off, someone was pouring bleach all over the wound underneath it.
Suffice to say, it fucking hurt.
Screaming in agony, I gathered my magic to me and prepared to shove the leech off me. Just as I was about to hurl it at him with all my strength, my eye snagged on George. Or rather, on Kuntemopharn about to bite George's head off.
