Nexus, page 12
“I haven’t finished telling you the story,” she scolded me and I rolled my eyes. “In her dream, the child was ‘born beneath the watchful eye of the full moon, with an owl and wolf as witnesses’.” Her expression became triumphant at that news.
“You said the owl just flew past the window and you heard a werewolf howl in the distance,” I pointed out. “It’s not like they were in the room with us.”
Huffing out a sigh, mom shook her head at my stubborn refusal to believe in the omen. “Prophecies don’t have to be literal,” she said in a lecturing tone. “Just the fact that it was a full moon and an owl and a wolf were in the area is probably good enough.”
“What else did she see in her dream?”
“She saw the child grow into a strong, dangerous woman. She would be tasked with an important event that would impact our entire world.”
I shivered at her hushed tone. “How come you’ve never told me about the journal before?”
“You don’t enjoy reading, so I didn’t bother to tell you about them.”
“Them?” I repeated. “How many journals did she write?”
“All of our ancestors wrote about their lives, Saige. So do I. You should, too. I told you to keep a record once Lord Gilden offered you a job as a bounty hunter.”
I made a face at the thought of writing down every detail of my life. “It’s not my fault I can’t concentrate on books long enough to finish them,” I whined. “They’re always so boring.”
“You never even gave reading a chance,” mom reminded me.
“You shouldn’t have gotten me hooked on videogames,” I said to deflect her from my faults. “Why would I want to spend all day reading, when I can kill zombies instead?”
“Good point,” she conceded in capitulation. “Still, I think you should read the journal that predicted your birth. You might learn something that could help you save our world from annihilation.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“DO YOU REALLY THINK an apocalypse is coming?” I asked skeptically, still torn about the idea that my dream might have been real.
“If it is, there will be signs,” mom figured.
“You mean omens?” I said with a smirk.
“Omens and portents are real, Saige,” she said in a prissy tone. “Finish your food while I get the journal.”
“I can get it,” I said, waving at her to stay seated so she could power her way through the rest of her sandwiches. “Tell me where it is and I’ll grab it now.”
“It’s under my bed. You’ll find it in the third box in the second row. It has a tattered red leather cover.”
Nodding, I gulped down the dregs of my coffee and stuffed a sandwich into my mouth, then headed for her bedroom. The room was neat and tidy, just like the rest of her house.
Dropping to my knees, I saw a bunch of cardboard boxes stashed underneath the bed. I grabbed the third one on the left and dragged it out, then had to lie down on my stomach to reach for the box behind it. Dust motes burst around me in a frenzy when I opened the box. It was full of leatherbound books that looked ancient. Finding one with a red cover, I opened it to see it was written in a foreign language.
“Great,” I muttered. “How the hell am I supposed to read this?”
“You’ll find an English translation in the box behind the one that had the original journal in it!” mom shouted. “It has a dark blue cover!” Her hearing wasn’t as good as Ruen’s, but it was good enough for her to have heard me.
Putting the red diary on the floor, I slithered beneath the bed to grab the next box. It was filled with translations of the original journals my ancestors had written. Finding the correct one, I pushed the boxes back beneath her bed, then carried the two journals to the kitchen. “Who translated them?” I asked.
“My grandmother,” she replied. “It took her several years to make copies. She knew future generations probably wouldn’t be bilingual like she is.”
“That was smart,” I conceded, intrigued despite my usual aversion to reading. “Why did you want me to take the original journal instead of just the translation?”
“You’ll see once you look through it,” she said mysteriously. “That can wait for now,” she added. “We still have a horde of zombies to slaughter.”
“I’ll toss my laundry into the dryer and meet you in the living room,” I replied with a grin. Leaving her to clean off the table, I veered into the living room to stash the books in my kill-bag. Then I headed down to the basement to take care of my clothing. By the time I returned to the living room, mom was waiting in her recliner. We resumed our game, but our mood had become somber.
Mom had a warning for me when we finally ended our game for the day and she escorted me to the door. “Be careful who you discuss your dream with,” she said. “Only tell people you trust about it. If there really is an evil force that works for Chaos or whatever, they might have spies looking for you.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, uneasy at that thought.
“Fate and Crowmon appeared in your dream to warn you about your destiny. Maybe the agents of Chaos also received a warning. It’s possible they know a champion has been chosen to face them. If they find out it’s you, they’ll try to kill you before you can stop the apocalypse.”
“Thanks for putting that possibility in my head,” I complained. “But you’re probably right. I’ll be careful who I talk to about this. They’ll most likely think I’m crazy anyway,” I added sullenly. Working my way up to being the best bounty hunter in Nexus came with a price. Felicity was jealous of me and was spiteful whenever I ran into her at the Den. I knew she would be far worse behind my back. Felicity had probably been one of the mean kids at high school who’d made fun of the less popular students.
“Don’t ever let anyone make you think less of yourself, Saige,” mom said in a hard tone. “You’re a strong, beautiful, capable young woman and you can kick their butts with one hand tied behind your back.”
Her fierce support always perked me up, even when I was feeling at my lowest. “Thanks, mom,” I said in gratitude, then shifted my hamper to my hip so I could give her a hug.
We weren’t particularly demonstrative, but we both needed a bit of comfort. She hugged me back, then gave me a light shove to get me moving. It would be dark soon and nighttime was when the monsters came out to play. I could be called on to hunt a rogue creature down at any time and I needed to be ready for it.
Stopping for fast-food on my way home, I scoffed it down during the drive, then tossed my trash in the dumpster in the parking lot of my apartment building. Most of the inhabitants had night jobs, so they were heading out to work. Exchanging polite nods with my neighbors, I carried my hamper to the elevator and rode it up to my floor. I smelled like hamburger and fries, so I took a quick shower, just in case I ran into any hungry shifters. Strong smells of meat could trigger them to change, especially this close to the full moon, which was only a few nights away.
My job was unpredictable and I never knew when I’d be required to go after the next target. It was fine to lounge around in jeans and a t-shirt during the day, but I needed to look the part of a bounty hunter at night. Choosing a short red skirt, I paired it up with fishnet stockings. They did little to cover the tatts that covered me from my thighs down to my ankles. Choosing a black bustier top, I added a leather choker and my favorite black belt with a snake on the buckle.
“You look gorgeous,” I told my reflection in admiration when I examined myself. My curves filled out my clothes perfectly. I tugged on a pair of knee-high black boots with three-inch heels, then grabbed my kill-bag. Lenny had apparently always had a no-fighting policy in place in his bar. Anyone who broke the rules was tossed out and was banned for a while. Committing murder resulted in permanent banning, so it was rare for fights to escalate that far. The Den of Iniquity was the most popular place for monsters to hang out, so no one wanted to be kicked out of it. That didn’t mean we couldn’t take weapons inside, though. I never went anywhere without something I could stab my enemies with.
As Ruen had pointed out on too many occasions for me to count, my car was an embarrassment to be seen in, so I parked it a block away from the Den as usual. My surly sidekick refused to ride in my car, which was why we always took his vehicle on our jobs. Besides, my orange hatchback couldn’t exactly blend in when we were hunting the bad guys.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
LOCKING MY CAR DESPITE the fact that only an extremely desperate fool would try to steal it, I briskly took off on foot. A car slowed down, then rolled along beside me. A guy stuck his head out through the back window. “Hey, sexy,” the skinny wannabe gangster said suggestively. “How much do you charge?” The radio was turned up so loudly that I could barely hear him.
My upper lip lifted that they thought I was a prostitute. “You couldn’t afford me,” I said in a bored tone and kept walking.
“We’ll all chip in,” the driver called out as the front passenger window rolled down. “How much to do us all?”
“I love big women,” another guy in the back said, peering past his buddy at me. “I love squishing my face between their gigantic titties.”
“Ugh,” I said in disgust as they began telling me what they wanted me to do to them and what they wanted to do to me. Getting sick of their badgering, I came to a stop. The car continued to roll for a few seconds, then the driver reversed back a few feet.
“So? How much?” the passenger in the front asked.
All four were in their mid-twenties. I could smell cigarette smoke, traces of illicit drugs and arousal wafting from them. I was used to men falling for my charms, but it could be annoying at times. “You’ve got the wrong idea about me,” I told them pityingly. “I’m not a ho and I’m not interested in having sex with any of you losers.”
Their mood instantly darkened at my insult. “We’re not losers,” one of the guys in the back denied. “You’re a loser! You dress like a ho, then get mad when dudes try to hire you.”
“I’m not dressed like a ho,” I denied.
“Yeah, you are!” the driver said. “You look like a big, fat ho!”
“Listen, you skinny little runt!” I snarled. “I’m not fat, I’m curvy! I’m also way out of your league. You all have small or average size junk at best, which automatically scrubs you from the list of men I’d sleep with.”
“We don’t have small dicks!” the front passenger exclaimed hotly, but his eyes shifted to the side at his lie.
“I always know a dude’s size,” I said with a smirk. “It’s one of my talents.” My special gift was how I knew Drake Gilden would be just as big as I’d dreamed about.
“Is eating your own body weight in junk food one of your talents, too, fatty?” the driver asked sarcastically.
My eyes narrowed and I leaned down so I could get a good look at him. All four pairs of eyes became riveted by my cleavage. “Call me fat one more time,” I dared him ominously.
“Fat, fat, fatty!” he responded with a nasty smirk without taking his eyes off my boobs.
The temper I’d always had trouble controlling flared up again. Lunging forward, I wedged myself into the window, squashing the passenger against the seat as I reached for his runty friend.
Shouts of alarm and maniacal laughter rang out from within the vehicle. The laughter was mine and the screams came from the douchebags. The driver wasn’t wearing his seatbelt, of course. That would damage his image of being a tough gangster. I hauled him out of his seat and the engine stalled.
“Help!” he shrieked, batting at me as ineffectually as a helpless little girl. “Someone help me! Call the police! This crazy bitch is trying to kill me!”
Snickering at the stench of fear that emanated from him, I pulled him out of his car. His friends spilled out, coming to his aid. One of them pulled a switchblade and flicked it open. “Let him go, or I’ll gut you!” he said, voice quavering with fear.
“Put that away before you hurt yourself, little boy, I said scornfully as the driver weakly tried to extricate himself from the grip I had on his t-shirt.
Flushing in anger, the guy with the knife snarled and took a step towards me. His friends gathered their courage and they all attacked me at once. An audience of humans were gathering, which meant I couldn’t smack them down as hard as I wanted to. I had to make it look like I wasn’t gifted with heightened strength and reflexes. Shoving the driver at his friends, I waded in with my fists when they caught him before he could bowl them down.
The switchblade was jammed into my side during the melee. My body absorbed it rather than blood spurting all over the place. The thug looked at the clean blade incredulously, then I smashed my fist into his face. Careful to punch him just hard enough to knock him out, I repeated the act with his buddies. Blood was splattered on my hands and arms by now. I’d only broken a couple of noses and split their lips, but they would be sore for the next couple of weeks.
“You go, momma!” a woman called out from the crowd. “Show them little boys what us females are made of!”
While I wasn’t actually a mother, I appreciated her sentiment and nodded in thanks. Most of the crowd were filming me. I hoped the footage would be grainy and hard to make out, since we were in between streetlights. A siren sounded and we instinctively scattered before the cops could arrive to question us.
I was puffing from my quick pace by the time I reached the Den. Slowing down to catch my breath, I nodded at the bouncer. Big, blond and musclebound, he nodded back. “How’s it going, Saige?” A weretiger, he was well over six feet tall and sported a short beard. All of the bouncers knew me by now.
“I can’t complain,” I replied with a smirk, then he returned to watching the street.
As always, the dancefloor was packed with people when I stepped inside. Couples would be utilizing the rooms upstairs for sex, if they could afford to rent one. Every vampire in the room flared their nostrils, then I was suddenly surrounded by the undead. I didn’t have any disposable wipes in my kill-bag tonight and I was still splattered with blood.
“Can we lick you?” a pathetic leech begged me. Almost my height, she had pale blonde hair and sad brown eyes. She was wearing a short black dress and her legs were fish belly white. “We haven’t fed in a few days and we’re starving.” The blood that had splattered on me was still warm from my exertion for them to be desperate enough to want to devour it.
The other three bloodsuckers implored me speechlessly. Their master must be strict to deny them from feeding. “Okay, but be quick,” I said in resignation. Blood was sacred to them. It would be an insult if I ducked into the restroom to wash it off. “No biting!” I added before they could get carried away and try to sink their fangs into me.
Four tongues began lapping the blood from my hands and arms, twisting and turning them so they could reach every drop. The blonde gave me a sweet smile, then leaned down to lick the top of my boob. “There, we’ve got it all,” she said in satisfaction.
“Great,” I said in a disgruntled tone at having a female’s tongue on my breast. “Thanks for cleaning it all off me.” Drifting away with dreamy looks in their eyes, they returned to the table they’d abandoned.
Feeling sticky from vampire saliva, I nodded at the people I knew by face, if not by name as I made my way to the restroom. Two women were kissing passionately in a corner when I pushed the door open. They didn’t pay any attention to me as I washed my hands, arms and boob. “That’ll teach me not to fight with humans,” I muttered wryly, then returned to the main room.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I’D HIRED A ROOM ON the second floor to have sex with my infrequent conquests a few times by now. Lenny’s private quarters were somewhere on the top floor. Bouncers patrolled all three floors, making sure trouble didn’t break out.
Not in the mood to find someone to have a quickie with tonight, I wended my way over to the bar. Three bartenders were working as usual. Lenny hired a few lackeys from different species. As always, the zombie was in the middle where he could be the center of the action.
Lenny had his one remaining ear to the ground and knew everything that happened in the supernatural community. If anyone would know about a possible plan from the overlords to invade earth, it would be him. I reached the bar and a patron vacated his seat at a nod from Lenny. “It’s good to see you, Saige,” the zombie said.
“Hey, Lenny,” I said. “How’s things?”
“Mostly intact. One of my toes almost fell off the other day, but I got a doc to stitch it back on for me,” he replied with a wink of his milky eye. “What’ll it be?” he asked.
“I’ll have the usual.”
Knowing my preferred brand of beer, he expertly poured a glass for me from the tap. “Where’s your undead sidekick?” he asked, plonking the beer on the bar.
“Ruen’s probably lurking outside Lord Gilden’s office, waiting for his next order,” I joked. In truth, we never hung out socially. I had no idea what the vamp did when he wasn’t with me.
“Guess again, Ms. Sterling,” the vampire said from right behind me just as I took a sip of my drink.
Swallowing the beer down the wrong tube, I pounded my chest and hacked out a cough. “Nice one, Ruen,” I scolded him. “You get a kick out of trying to scare my pants off, don’t you?”
“You’re wearing a skirt,” the leech pointed out irritably. Just to be different, he was wearing a black suit.
Lenny grinned at our antics, finding us both highly amusing. “Can I heat up a glass of blood for you?” he asked.
Ruen’s fangs descended before he could control himself. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” he said, mustering his dignity.
Lenny glanced at the customer sitting next to me and she reluctantly gave up her stool for the vampire. The zombie ambled over to the fridge and bloodsuckers in the room began to salivate as soon as the door opened and they saw the bottles of blood. Ruen had to be nearly starving to fork over a couple of hundred bucks for one drink.
