97 (Rise of the Battle Bred) (10 page)

Zarastrid’s Log

Five Years Later

For the Pact, I left the Fortress. I recognized my desires for what they were, and travelled a great distance.
Zyrich accompanied me as we travelled to the Far East in search of the means to create the Greek Fire. I collected the pieces of the chesse as we crossed the globe.

Zeko kept us apprised of the growing boys’ strengths and abilities while we roamed. Now we are returned.

On this the Eve of my reunion with Agnes, I question the strange obsession I’ve had with her.

None of the Warlochs have felt the desire for hearth and family. Those tender signs of weakness were expelled from our bodies when the Fey Witch thrust our burning hearts into the Loch. When we rose up out of the water, our feelings of love and mercy were effectively charred out of our souls. The fact that I have thought of none other but Agnes every night for the past five years concerns me. Perhaps the Fey Witch made a fatal mistake with me?   Perhaps her spell had a weakness, and I am a canker in the Coven, destined to burn.

I did say that I love irony. As Zyrich has searched for the ingredients of the Greek Fire, I burn inside for the warmth of Agnes’ smile.

I will bring her the
chesse game, complete with unique pieces from around the world. It will be a set like no other.

I cannot give her more than that.

Zeko stood stock still as his assistant brushed the lint roller down the sleeves of his Giorgio Armani. His secretary sat at her desk, typing maniacally on a computer. Another peon hustled past the door to his corner office. His assistant stood, and he let his eyes drift to her cleavage. Very satisfactory, he thought to himself. She looked down demurely and waited for his command.

“You may leave now,” He said magnanimously. He admired her luscious curves as she left the office.
Maybe later
, he promised himself. “Jasmina!” He barked at his secretary. The typing stopped.

“Yes sir,” She responded.

“What word from Zarastrid?”

“He is flying in to LAX at 5. We’re sending a car and you have dinner reservations at Linelli’s at 7pm. I’m emailing him the itinerary now.”

“Very well. What of the other business?”

“Zyrick faxed you a copy of the latest test results. He said cooperation from the subjects is difficult,” She swallowed visibly; Zeko watched her slender pale throat move with the action. He closed his eyes and smelled her perfume from across the room. Lily of the Valley. Very nice.
Maybe later,
he promised himself.

“Of course the subjects are difficult. They’re always difficult. Remind him of the rewards of success.”

“Of course, sir,” His secretary replied. The typing resumed.

Zeko strode out of the office and straight to the bank of elevators. He took a car to the subbasement of his building, fidgeting with his cufflinks all the while.

Once in the subbasement, he walked down the aisle, passing closed black doors until he reached the end. He knocked once, and then opened the door. He turned the light on with the switch that was precisely one foot away from the occupant’s furthest reach.

“And how are you this afternoon?”

The pathetic figure chained to the ring in the floor didn’t answer.

“Always with the stubbornness, Marine. It doesn’t benefit you to withhold things from me. You should know that by now.”

The naked figure spat on the floor in front of his House of Testoni alligator skin shoes.

Zeko smiled. He knew from experience that the Marine could have hit them square but chose not to for some reason. “Respect for the shoes?”  He asked him.

“No. The alligator,” The Marine said.

Zeko’s laugh echoed down the cement hallway. “Our conversations are the bright spot in my day, Marine,” He searched his face for some sign of change. There was none. “Well, I’ll send Zarastrid along later this evening. He hasn’t seen you in a while. You two have fun catching up,” Satisfaction spread through Zeko’s body when he saw the slightest cringe ripple across the Marine’s shoulders.
Good
.

He could respect the Marine as a soldier, but the stubbornness grated Zeko’s nerves. Perhaps Zarastrid would have better luck getting him to talk. He should come by and watch.
Maybe later
, he promised himself.

In the evening, he met Zarastrid at Linelli’s.

“Your flight?”  He asked him.

“Acceptable,” Zarastrid said.

“Your driver?”

“Acceptable.”

“The food?”

“We shall see, shan’t we?”  Zarastrid said as he allowed the waiter to pour.

“Thank you for coming,” Zeko said obsequiously.

Zarastrid swirled the cabernet in his glass, not once looking at Zeko. “I’m not here because you asked, Zeko.”

Zeko nodded and swallowed.

Zarastrid stabbed the meat on his plate. He cut viciously and speared the rare steak with the silver fork. He looked around the restaurant. Soft music floated airily throughout while the patrons talked quietly at the tables across the way. They were in a secluded spot. Exotic plants dotted doorways, and tasteful centerpieces decorated each table. It was an exclusive place, with exorbitantly priced food and discreet staff. He looked at Zeko.

“What have you learned from the Marine?”  He asked, finally.

Zeko grimaced. “That piece of excrement is worthless to us. We should try a different avenue. Or,” he looked at Zarastrid meaningfully, “give up. It’s a myth, a legend. There’s nothing to give it credence.”

Zarastrid slapped an open palm on the white tablecloth. “Just because you have failed to discover it, doesn’t mean it isn’t true,” His voice was icy and penetrating.

Zeko had the sense to look down at his salad.

Zarastrid returned to his bloody steak. He took another bite, savored the juices and quickly licked off an escaping rivulet. “I will talk to the Marine myself later.”

“He’s expecting you,” Zeko said.

“What of the other?”  Zarastrid asked between bites.

Zeko poked at the kumquats in his salad. “Receiving updates daily.”

“Are you now,” Zarastrid replied drily. He stopped eating and stared at Zeko.

“The subjects aren’t cooperating, was the most recent report,” He shifted nervously in his seat.

“They never do,” Zarastrid returned to his meal. After several bites and another pour of the wine, he looked up at Zeko. “You’re not eating.”

“I…” Zeko cleared his throat. “Just taking my time, Zarastrid,” Zeko suspected there was something his superior was not telling him.

“I’ve decided to relocate here,” Zarastrid sat back and put his cloth napkin on his plate. “I haven’t been satisfied with the ways things have been run for some time. I’m taking over.”

Zeko’s posture slumped, completely ruining the lines of his Armani.

Zarastrid stood. “Thank you for the meal. I like this place. Meet me in your office in the morning and we’ll go over staff transfers and replacements. Times have changed, Zeko. Corporations have different needs, different business plans, than back in the day, right?”  He patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you for the driver, as well. She’s really something,” He winked and walked out of the restaurant without looking back.

It was just as well, because Zeko was glaring at Zarastrid with what could only be called a death stare. If he had muttered the words, he
might
have been able to make him stumble. But Zarastrid had always been the more powerful Warloch of the two, and the most devious, and the most prescient. And then there was that...incident.

It was like playing chess with a master. He was always moves ahead of him. Zeko cursed. Zarastrid would be heading to interrogate the Marine now, but Zeko felt too ashamed to go and watch. He also knew from past experience that he was too shamed to do anything about his assistant or secretary.
Maybe later
, he said bitterly to himself. His anger was ripe enough to use the destruction spell, but really, Linelli’s was the best place to eat if one was a Warloch in Los Angeles.

Zarastrid’s Log

Five Years and One Day Later

I am a coward. I still haven’t seen her. This is what happened today:

I approached her little cottage, and was startled to see Zeko sitting upon the ground while three wild boys wrestled him.

All of the boys look alike, with dark hair and eyes and swarthy skin.
Zainel found a specific set of donors when he was creating the race we will call Battle Spawn.

The dark-haired boys leaped upon Zeko as if he was a dog, and pulled at his ears and arms, trying to pull him flat. They howled and tore at him. His grunts were gruff but gentle.

What dark magick was at work here at Agnes’ cottage?   My Battle Loch, ferocious and fearsome, playing at being a cur with children?

I stood still, trying to comprehend the scene before me when Agnes came in to view from behind the cottage. She bore a basket overflowing with produce from the garden.

At her stern word, the boys all rose at once, brushed off their clothes and ran to their mother. One took the basket from her, easily bearing the load that had her panting for want of breath.

Another addressed her quietly, perhaps to seek a chore. The third tidied the path up to the door, and bowed to Zeko and his mother while opening it.

Zeko returned the boy’s bow and only rose when a soft word from Agnes bid him do so.

The fire within ignited into a rage.

Zeko.

I left before they spied me.

William joined me yet again for Monday’s delivery. I wanted to divvy up the share, since he was coming anyway, and get the job done in half the time, but he wouldn’t split up. He offered to take my bag and throw the papers, but that was just dumb.

It was my paper route, my job, my responsibility. I rolled my eyes at him, and off we went. It was overcast today, but it’s always dark when I go out, so no big deal.

We couldn’t really talk, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. There was the big question hanging in the air between us.

Which life was he on? 

I couldn’t bring myself to ask it, even though my curiosity was burning a hole behind my eyelids and kept me up all night. He had to know I was wondering too. We pedaled up my driveway, and I stood, still straddling my bike.

“Well, thanks again, William. No scary monsters today!” I said cheerily.

He gave me a little salute with his fingers at his forehead, and then spun away.

This guy! I was actually looking forward to school and the distraction it would provide from the craziness that had become my life.

I told myself I wasn’t paying extra attention to my outfit when I chose skinny jeans, ballet flats instead of sneakers, and my prettiest green clingy sweater. Also, I let my hair stay loose instead of putting it up into a pony tail, and applied a darker shade of lip gloss than I usually go for. Nope, I wasn’t paying any attention at all, and I frowned when I realized that Crady was going to give me heck when I showed up today.

I rode to school like usual, worrying a little about Mick along the way. I heard an engine purr behind me and I looked. William gestured for me to pull over.

“What?”  I asked him, annoyance battling the pleasure in my voice.

“Put your bike in the back. I’m driving you,” He said brooking no argument.

I opened my mouth to protest, but then realized it would be useless. I heard the click of his trunk, and he appeared, so he could put my bike in for me. When he opened the passenger door for me, I felt alarm bells ring in my head. No one did this. Guys did not do
chivalry
anymore. I looked at him, standing there so calm like he wasn’t rocking my world at this very minute. “Thank you,” I said softly.

“It’s just not safe yet,” He said by way of explanation. I was immediately disappointed. Mixed signals much?  I thought to myself as I got in and buckled and put my bag at my feet.

There was an uncomfortable silence on the way to school. I thought of a dozen different things I could have asked, but none of them would have been what I really wanted to know. And I didn’t think I really wanted to know. I settled for school stuff. “Did you get that math assignment done?”

“Yes.”

Okaaay. “Are you going to try out for the football team?”  Too late I realized how stupid I sounded. Seriously, I’m asking him about math homework and football when his life was on the line every day of his life?  He was born with a death sentence on his head. I smacked myself in the forehead.

“I’m sorry. I’m stupid beyond belief,” I said to the windshield.

His large warm hand reached over the middle and rested on my own. “It’s okay. My dad and I are used to it. It’s like we have two lives going on. The one where we try for normal, and the one where we fight to keep it. And to answer your question, no. I won’t be trying out for football or any of the other sports. I don’t have a lot of free time; I train with my dad a lot.”

Oh my gosh. He doesn’t have free time, and he’s doing my paper route with me now. I felt like a total heel. His hand felt so warm sheltering mine. I didn’t know if he noticed he hadn’t moved it, but I wasn’t going to clue him in to the fact.

I liked it right where it was.

The road was smooth beneath the wheels, so that wasn’t why I felt all rumbly inside. The school parking lot appeared too soon. William pulled in beside Crady again. When she saw me she flipped out; thankfully her car windows were closed so we didn’t have to hear her screaming. William wasn’t looking at her though, he was looking at our hands clasped on the seat between us. I looked down too, and felt fluttery and feminine when I saw his large hand encasing my own smaller one. Me, Jane Burrows, tough girl with the paper route.

I looked up at him.

He stared at me, glancing once at my mouth, and back to my eyes again. “This can’t happen, Jane. Not yet,” He gently released my hand, and I felt my right fly towards his cheek of its own volition. He caught it before it could land home.

Hot tears spilled over my lashes, and I was seriously pissed at myself. I never cry! He looked sorrowful when he spoke next.

“I know. I’m the one who…” he stopped and frowned at the tears coursing down my face. “I’m sorry. I’m a fool.”

I pulled my hand back and wiped at my face furiously. “I’m fine. Hormones or something,” I was so mad I was seeing red. He sent so many mixed messages it was like a game of Twister. I felt really helpless when I realized how easily I was falling for him, and how useless it would be to fall for him, considering the difficult life he led. I grabbed my bag and opened the door before he could be the gentleman and ran up to the school building. Crady would find me in the restroom, and I could cry on her shoulder.

She found me immediately. “What the heck was that all about, Chica?”  She asked me. “I saw you almost slap him; was he putting the moves on you before school?  Tacky!”

I gave a little laugh and dabbed my face with tissue. “No, he wasn’t putting the moves on me. Exactly.”

Crady looked at me harder, and then put it all together. My outfit, my tears, my expression. “Oh honey,” She pulled me into a hug while other girls swirled around us in the bathroom. “You like him, don’t you?  And he’s somehow unavailable?”

I gave another shaky laugh. How did she know so much with so little information?  “You pretty much hit the nail on the head.”

“I know I did. I’m clairvoyant. Look, you are smokin’ hot this morning. Dry your tears, fix your makeup, and let’s go to class like we own this school. Because we do. And when Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome shows up to class, we’ll play it cool like we’re hot gangsta chics who don’t give a darn. Got it?” 

That was my girl Friday, giving me the pep talk I needed to hear. I nodded and faced myself in the mirror. The good news was that after William’s little ‘break up before we even get together’ speech, I shouldn’t have to worry about blushing anymore. I patted under my eyes with cold wet paper towels and reapplied the light dusting of blush. I really did look good compared to my usual style…no style. William, eat your heart out.

But he couldn’t, because he didn’t show up until lunchtime.

Then he had the nerve to sit with us, even though we both gave him our piercingest glares. He just plowed into his two lunches like no big deal. We might have made some kind of scene, but KrisChris started walking toward us.

Crady squeezed my arm. “KrisChris is coming; don’t look.”

It was too late, I looked. Sure enough, Kris and Chris, two guys we knew from third grade on, both of dubious orientation, sauntered up to our table.

“We want to talk to you,” Kris said. They both had black hair that was swept into their eyes, dark eyeliner and wore dark clothes. It would be effective as a sobering outfit, except they both smiled and laughed too much.

The three of us were unsure who they were addressing, though William looked like he couldn’t care any less. It was burger day in the cafeteria, and he had somehow managed to get a third one in addition to his two trays.

“It’s a free country,” Crady said. She sipped her strawberry milk through a straw, her black eyes sparkling humorously. Today she wore a headband, with swear to gosh, antenna bobbing on it. She had on a plaid madras button down shirt over a gray tank top, and khaki crop pants with combat boots. Again, it worked for her.

“We want to talk to
William
, not you girls,” Chris said.

I waved at them to proceed and turned to Crady. “What did you get for number 26 on the math assignment?”  I asked her. We bent heads together and totally pretended to ignore the guys.

“William, we just want you to know that Jady here,” one of them gestured to us.

“You mean Crane…” the other one said.

“…do not corner the market on Oregonian friendliness. We want to welcome you to Deer Run High, and offer our services,” Kris finished.

I sputtered. “Services?”

KrisChris glared at me. “We know things about the school from a unique male perspective. Which lockers to avoid in the men’s locker room, for example…” Kris said.

“Which men to avoid…” Chris continued.

I really wasn’t sure where these two were coming from.

“Don’t be dense, Jane. You know how some of our classmates are,” Kris said.

I looked around the cafeteria. It was true, between the Ticks and the football team, there were some not nice people. Small towns were great and all, but there was the trend toward a kind of inbreeding snarkiness. Even now, the girls at the cheerleading table were all looking our way with slinky smiles, although I caught at least a couple girls looking at William appraisingly. Even if he ‘couldn’t’, whatever, with me, at least he was not ‘whatever’ with me as opposed to them. If that made any sense.

William stopped eating momentarily. He dipped his head at KrisChris. “Thanks guys. I appreciate it.”

They nodded smugly at each other. “See you in gym, then,” Kris said and they walked back to their table.

The Ticks rose in unison. It was like they moved in slow motion as they approached us. Each asset accentuated with every step they took.

Perfect. Hair. Perfect. Curves. Perfect. Teeth.

Crady and I exchanged a knowing look. This ought to be good.

Sydney spoke first. “Nice debate in World History on Friday, William. I really liked your point and totally agreed with
your
side of the argument,” She looked at me pointedly and gave a sickly sweet smile.

William looked uncomfortable with the attention. Surely this happened at every single school he attended, which must have been around twelve or more by his own accounting. “Okay,” He said simply. He went back to his meal, the third hamburger and some crunchy fry remnants.

Sydney’s compatriot, Emma, spoke next. “This is Sydney. I’m Emma. We’d love you to come to our cheerleading practice, William. Some fresh eyes could really give us new perspective, you know?”  She twirled a blonde curl around her finger and actually
batted
her eyelashes at him. I think I threw up a little bit in my mouth. Ew.

“Um, sure,” William said. My heart dropped to the floor at that moment. And then, of course, I could feel that familiar warmth spread over my skin.

I thought I was done with this.

The whole attraction thing, the flush of desire when I thought he might be thinking about kissing me, and here it was…but in the form of a deep shame. After lecturing me about how he couldn’t do sports because of not having extra time, he’s agreeing to watch cheerleading practice?  I didn’t think; I didn’t speak, and I sure as heck didn’t watch what I was doing. I stood up so fast my hip tipped my lunch tray and the creamed spinach spilled in a spray pattern that would make Dexter proud. Right on Emma’s white pencil skirt.

She shrieked, “You witch! You did that on purpose!” And she grabbed napkins by the fistful off our table.

Sydney cooed at her sympathetically, I murmured sorry and left the lunchroom as fast as I could. I didn’t care if Crady followed, but I was sure she did. I was in some kind of sick nightmare. My cousin was almost killed by some supernatural monster, and the thing that really tipped the scales of my sanity was the fact that William agreed to watch the cheerleaders’ practice.

My priorities were seriously out of whack, as my mom would say. For the second time today, I ended up in the bathroom scrubbing my face. The mascara was coming off, the blush, the lip gloss. I felt completely moronic for even caring what William thought of me. I glared at myself in the mirror. I’m a senior in high school for goodness’ sake. Why am I crying like a baby in the girls’ restroom?  I took a deep breath and put a cold compress on my eyes for the second time today.

I heard Crady come in. “Okay, this is ridiculous.”

“You don’t have to rub it in, Crady. I know,”

“Not you, girlfriend. William and his crazy-butt switch-o, change-o routine. This guy has some issues, and it’s only his second day of school. Just try your best to get over him. The Ticks can have him,” Crady paced back and forth on the lime green tiles.

I removed the compress and felt better already. One True Friend is all I need. We linked arms and headed to class.

“Nice work with the spinach, by the way,” Crady said.

“I actually feel bad about that,” I’d leave her a note in her locker to send me the dry cleaning bill. That’s what my paper route was for, after all. Being responsible and mature.