Fire Angers Water

As a man walked by Taluna laughed and dove into the bay’s waters.  She stuck most of her head into the air; water lapped just below her bottom lip.  The man crouched to splash water on his face, eyes following her every move.  Smiling, she flicked water at him with her sea green tail.  The scales reflected a rainbow sheen under the sun.

“What a beauty you are.” He walked along the shoreline.

She swam in time with his movements.  Each stroke brought her scaled body into the light, exposing their natural trails onto her cheeks, over the gills on her neck and spiny, fin-tipped ears.  The color of her eyes actually shifted from deep blue to radiant green.

“Why are you so far from open sea?”

“Do you always ask magic’s kin so many questions?” Her accent was almost Hispanic.  She came  to a group of rocks and leaned her head forward.

He chuckled.  “I’ve never met a creature so arrogant.”

The flames surrounded her before she could jump away.  The man’s eyes glimmered with greed as the net fell over her.  Hissing, she grabbed hold and tossed it away.  Too late.  Fire licked at her body.  She shrieked.  Hunter!

The net came at her again, but she managed to go through the orange devourer only to find the bay was blocked by a giant net.  Two other men stood at either side holding it steady.

“You see,” the man waded into the water, fire surrounding his upper body, “mermaids are easy to capture.  Curiosity, arrogance.  That’s all your kind is.  But those scales.” He clucked.  “You won’t need them for much longer, I promise.”

Then something sucked him under.   As he tried to fight the grip, Taluna came face to face with him.  Her pupils were slits, eyes a fearful deep grey, and he saw for the first time that her hands were webbed with claw-like fingernails.  Her smile was coy, the way a killer smiled at its prey.

He kicked and screamed.  Bubbles frothed at the surface, and the two men above fled for their lives.  Taluna heard the net drift to the seabed and laughed as the man finally stopped twitching.

“You were the hunted.  My sister’s life is now avenged.”

Turn a Blind Eye: a Half Life Story

Devaros stared through the smoky room at the dancers. The players rapped out a lighthearted, very jovial tune, and he tapped his foot despite himself. At the center of the room was Kaemarre, the darkest elfwoman he’d ever seen. She was truly the greatest beauty from the forest towns, that much had always been apparent. And her eyes. Such golden, beautiful eyes both wild and brimming with a type of happiness Devaros never knew. He never got over that look, not once in the past seven seasons.

She smiled at him and waved for him to come forward. With a small shrug, he shook his head. This time, she ignored his silent rebukes and ran towards him, gripping his hand hard. She was so warm.

“Since it’s my last night here, you will grace me with at least one dance, my lord. Or did you intend to stare at me the entire time and let me go home without a word?” She grinned. “Come.”

His heart tried to deny how much he enjoyed her movements around him, how much he loved to watch her skirt twirl, but before the night was done, he was smiling, laughing, and twirling with equal spirit. It was hard for him to let go of his reserve; after all, he held many enemies being Master Harbinger. Still, he let go and allowed Kaemarre to show him a world he only watched.

The night ended too quickly. Before long, the players packed their instruments. Most of the nobles and his other guests had filtered out by then except for Kaemarre. He wanted to demand the players continue, but he knew the sun would rise in a few hours and Kaemarre would return to the Cedrilaen town she came from.

As if sensing his conflict, Kaemarre walked him out to his balcony and leaned against its strong, polished rail. “Will you be escorting me home, my lord?”

“I cannot, though,” he took her hands, “I would if it weren’t for my obligations.”

“I see.” Her face sagged and her expression became suddenly forlorn. “Your job as the Highlord’s Master Harbinger requires you kill many with human blood, does it not?”

He wasn’t comfortable with this. “Why do you ask?”

“I know you turn a blind eye to things about me that you shouldn’t.” Her eyes burned into his with pain, anguish, and rage, making their golden hue appear almost molten.

Sighing, he all but hung his head between his hands. “Your grandmother is the human slave of your grandfather’s small estate and is beloved by all in your town. I know — I’ve known since we first met.”

“And when were you supposed to kill me? Tonight? After we made love? When, my lord?”

He blinked. Had she wanted to make love with him? It was wrong to be so excited by that thought. “With all my heart, I was going to quietly kill you on your way back, when you traveled through the deepest part of the forest.”

“That would certainly make it easy to blame a wolf or shapeshifter for my death.”

“Kae, I’ve no intention of killing you.” He kissed her cheek, despite how painful the look of disgust on her face was. “Your name will never appear on my records for as long as I live. I swear by the gold and red Ones.”

“And I swear, my lord, that you shall never see me again after this night.”

“If that’s your wish.” Before she could say any more, he kissed her firmly on the lips and quickly withdrew to his chambers, emerging only after he heard Kaemarre’s caravan pass through his great dwelling’s gates.

Crossroads: a Dominant Race Short Story

Damon walked through the crowd with his hoodie up to help block the cold wind. Everyone stood in front of a small stage. A man in a white suit walked up to the microphone and announced what they all knew already: Hugh’s City was shutting their newly built walls and offering no help to Bren. The “modified scourge” was something they had to deal with on their own.

They had to deal with people like him.

He weaved through couples and families with almost fluid movements, aware of a crack in the bodies as if drawn to it. No one noticed his hand dip into pockets and take money, phones, wallets. It was too easy.

Until a hand grabbed his wrist. Forcing himself not to panic, Damon smiled and tried to walk on. But the hand refused to let go. The guy wasn’t much older than Damon, and his jacket was too big for him, but something in his grip warned Damon to be cautious.

“You’ll get killed if you stay here.”

Damon yanked his wrist away and bolted for the outskirts of town. On some level, he knew he was honestly lucky the guy hadn’t revealed him right then and there for the mob to destroy. Damn. He stuck to the side streets at first, but when no one, not even a single car, crossed his path he bolted at top speed towards an old dirt road. It led to his hideaway, a mile or two north of Bren. He just hoped the guy wouldn’t be interested enough to follow him there.

But when he got to the dirt road, he knew he wasn’t that lucky after all.

The Desire to Disappear

Julia sipped on her coffee, sifting through the images in a bridal magazine. As usual, she arrived an hour before the morning rush. Her job was to man the small coffee shop, but it was always nice to get there early and look through the dresses. The routine was new; she’d only worked at the place for two weeks now, but it felt like home. Her boss loved the way she handled every customer with polite interest, and that ensured her happy stay even through the rest of her graduate classes.

The fact that she was back in classes again, back in New York at all was amazing. After she first merged with water, after trying her best to fall out of love with her professor, she managed to come into her own again. She learned to embrace her powers instead of fear them, and the ability to control her time being one with the water increased with daily practice. Gradually, she experimented. Sometimes she managed to put her arm in water and manipulate the entire mass. Once, she created a water castle out of her bath water, only her  upper body still corporeal, but it only held form for a few minutes. Somehow there was a way to make some good of this. She knew it.

These things were what she pondered usually, happy that the small college town was slow around seven. But on that particular morning, one person came in ahead of the crowd.

“Welcome to The Coffee Nook, I’ll be right with you.” She rushed to put up the magazine, tucked her coffee in a small corner out of customer sight, and flashed her best smile.

It faded in an instant as Karl Norton blinked. He seemed sincerely upset and forlorn at the sight of her, but he walked up to the counter anyway, staring at the menu behind her with excessive intensity. “I’ll have a mocha Frappuccino with three shots of espresso.”

“Why the third one? Having a rough day already?” She closed her eyes and mentally kicked herself. He was just another customer. Nothing more. He wasn’t hers — he was never really hers.