Obfuscate (5 page)

“Yeah, but what we didn’t know is that a couple months ago
Nat Geo
tried to film a documentary on North Sentinel. The Rakshasa shot poison arrows at them when their boat crashed into the reef. One of the cameramen died the next day. To get the crew off the ship, they had to Medevac them using Kevlar body armor.”

Harris pulled a backpack and another long rifle bag from Torchy’s back. Torchy flew off again toward the ship.

I knitted my eyebrows, trying to read between his words. “So you’re saying that even though the Rakshasa are primitive, they’re deadly?”

“Exactly!” He pointed at me and slapped his hands together as if I’d successfully guessed his charades game. Harris dabbed his face and then draped the towel over his shoulder, beaming with his news.

“Might I inquire, aren’t
most
cannibalistic cultures considered deadly?” Khaldon’s sarcasm drained the proud smile from Harris’ face.

Harris bantered back. “Whatevz, hot shot. They use poison. Just thought we should know. Torch and I tried to change our defense weapons to counteract their tactics.”

“Okay, show us what you’ve got.” I flipped off his Chicago Wolves Hockey cap and tousled his sandy brown curls. “We’re running out of time.”

“My bad, Chey, but I couldn’t ignore it. We were about to leave when I overheard these merchants talking about it, so I had to check it out, ya know?”

“Uh huh, ever hear of a cell phone?” I splashed wet sand and water onto his legs. “Did you learn anything else? Did you bring any bullet proof vests after learning this?”

“Hey…” He squatted down in the salt water. “Negatory on the Kevlar and the cell phone. No service. Torchy wasn’t able to score any vests until next week and we didn’t want to delay.” Harris pulled off his shoes and swished them in the shallow surf.

“What about the ammunition? I’ve used up some rounds learning how to shoot. Check out this grouping.” I handed him my mutilated coconut.

Harris eyed it and grimaced. “Just be sure you’re not aiming at my head, okay? So yeah—we got the ammo—the colloidal silver ones. I have to say, Chey, you’re looking kinda badassed in that outfit. Camo goes with your red hair.”

He laughed out loud and then sing-songed his words. “I’m sure we’ve got what we need for the rescue, but you’re not gonna like what’s in the water.” A stupid grin smeared across his face.

I studied him, thinking of monstrous water creatures. Orcas? Kraken? Piranha, maybe? No—those are in the Amazon. “What do you mean—monstrous? Is there a storm coming? Genetically engineered squids or something?” I took a few steps up toward the beach and stood in ankle-deep water.

Harris ran a hand through his wet curls, pushing them back off his face, and replaced his ball cap. “The reefs are teeming with sea life. Because of the volcano eruption and tsunami a couple years ago. It raised the entire island by two meters, making the coral reefs even deadlier than they were before.”

I stole a glance at Khaldon and Briggs. Even Ludovic was listening intently on what Harris was describing. “The warm temperatures have fed the ecosystems around the island, and they’re infested now with hammerheads, silver tips, and gray reef sharks. There’s loads of barracuda, jellyfish, and manta rays. Oh, and poisonous sea snakes too.” Harris stood up and joined me closer on the shore and pointed out toward North Sentinel. “Wouldn’t it be wicked to see a man o’war jellyfish with thirty-foot tentacles?”

“Umm—that would be a ‘no.’” I stepped out of the water and higher onto the beach. “Sharks? Barracudas? Tentacles?” I gulped as the theme from
Jaws
played in my head. The lump in my throat felt big enough to choke Briggs in dragon form several times over.

“Seriously?” The pangs of tension reemerged, and my shoulders seized up into my neck. “I hate swimming in water I can’t see through. Dark, scary water with slithery things that want to eat me—no way—count me out. I’ll ride Torchy.”

“But, of course,
ma chére
.” Briggs patted my arm again as though that was actually going to help me feel better. “
Oui.
We’re in dze middle of dze Indian Ocean, deep into dze Bay of Bengal. But not to worry, my draconian sonar will jam their frequencies. We’ll be finer dzan frog ’air. You are safe with me.”

Draconian sonar? Frog hair? Would that be in the Paranormal Wikipedia or The Canons?

A cloud of fog engulfed us, and Torchy emerged in his human form beside the skiff. His coppery hair spiked up, and he was clad only in his kilted plaid. He was lean, abdominally chiseled, and one of the hairiest chested men I’d ever seen in my life.

Salt water dripped from his day’s beard growth while Khaldon handed him a towel. In a thick Scottish accent, Torchy said, “Winds and waters are calm. We shouldna be seeing any issues with Poseidon tonight.” He wiped his face and tossed the spent towel into the skiff. He scratched his fiery red goatee, and I noticed specks of blond interspersed among the deep mahogany colors matching his chest hair.

Khaldon dug into the boat and pulled out a leather flagon. “What about the cyclonic system to the south of us? Did it turn inland?” He uncorked the pouch and handed the whiskey to Torchy.

Torchy nodded and accepted the offer. “Oh aye, it did. We had to alter our course to go around it. I dinnae spot any cyclones in the forecast up here, but rumor has it this season be a damned wicked time for the seas. Nay sure I want to be moored here for long.” Torchy drank deep without taking a breath and tossed the empty container back into the skiff. “We shouldna have any surprises tonight.” He continued to run his hands through his hair until it was almost dry. “I’ll be a damned sight happy when this is over. I’ve ’bout had it with salt up me backside, ya ken?”

Khaldon nodded and shot me a wink. “See, m’lady, nothing to worry your bonny self about.”

Briggs removed a couple of automatic rifles, with several magazines full of ammunition, and inspected them before adding them to the pile of increasing firearms.

Harris pulled out a waterproof pouch from his back pocket and removed a global positioning device. “I found that blackout shield for the mobile GPS. Unless you’re standing right in front of it, no light escapes.” He snapped on the blackout cover and duct-taped it to the AR-15 rifle slung across his shoulder. “We’ll be able to know within one klick of Dakota’s location when we reach the shore.”

I picked up a box of what looked like regular bullets and opened them to examine the death-eaters. “Are bullets really going to be effective? I’ve seen it a thousand times in movies, like
Blade
, where vampires and werewolves heal themselves and the fired bullets push out of their victims and clink to the ground. Is that true?”

Khaldon stared at me from the sides of his narrowing eyes. He arched his brows pondering to answer my question, but his flat-pressed lips told me otherwise.

“I know, I know … read
The Canons
.”

Harris slammed a loaded magazine clip into his Glock 9mm pistol and holstered it into his leg harness. “That’s why these are pure silver, Chey. Torchy had a stash of these at his Malaysia Super Market. Not just colloidal silver, but the real stuff. Nothin’s gonna hurt us tonight with these babies.”

I eyed Torchy and wondered why he would have a secret stash of silver bullets. I guessed even dragons were preppers, but most likely “hoarders” was the more appropriate term for dragons.

Harris pulled on a leather glove then pulled a small object from inside his jeans pocket. He held up and flashed a single silver bullet and rotated it in the light. “I’ll admit, it’s not easy carrying something that can kill me just as much as it can kill others, but it has a certain power to it.”

The radiant setting colors of the sun shimmered off the bullet in a spectrum of orange and red. He tossed it up into the air, breaking the spell it had me under. Harris took off his hat and slid the bullet under the brimmed edge. Slapping his cap back onto his head, he adjusted the fit and then pocketed the glove once again. “C’mon, Chey. Let’s go blast a couple more coconuts before we go.” He gave me a confident slap on the back. “I can’t wait to see you shoot. Can I call you Annie Oakley from now on?”

“That’s a tall order to stand up to. Give me just a sec, H. I’ve gotta talk to Torchy for a moment.” Turning my attention away from the guys and their preparations, I surprised Torchy from behind and hugged him tightly around the neck. “I’m so glad you’re here. Have you heard from Sheridan? Is she feeling okay?”

“
Ay
e, she tells me all’s well, but I dinnae think the lass is entirely forthcoming. Yer father has shared his concerns with me, but says he’ll ring us if something comes up.” He handed me another knife sheathed in a leather pouch.

“I’m glad she decided to stay home this time. I’m not sure she could’ve taken much more of the open seas with her pregnancy. I know Sheridan wants to find Dakota as much as the rest of us, but if the storm weather predictions hold true, then she definitely doesn’t need to be on the ship.”

“
Aye
, I’m a bit unnerved about her giving birth to the twin bairns before we return. But if all goes well, we’ll be back before the fortnight.” Torchy checked the straps on the back of my shoulder harness and cinched it up tighter. He smacked me on the ass. “There ya go, lassie. All set now.”

I shook my head.
Dragons.

We were as ready as we were going to be. Studying the wall of men in front of me, I ran the gamut of emotions from loathing to lust. Ludovic, Briggs, Torchy, Harris, and Khaldon. If I was going to win back my sister tonight, I needed to trust these men with everything I had. I needed to invest in their skills, their expertise, and relinquish my anxiety, or I wouldn’t be of any use to them. Still, something inside me said we weren’t prepared, we needed more people.

Should I call this mission off? Should we arrange for backup?

Khaldon clapped his hands. “All right, mates.”

I jumped at the sudden sound.

He eased a hand down on my shoulder and arched an inquisitive brow. “We’ve discussed the drill. Try to use hand signals as much as possible once we land. We’re not going to be the Rakshasa’s celebratory dinner tonight. We’re bringing Dakota home.”

Everyone nodded and set out for final checks of lock picks, ropes, carabiners, and bolt cutters. There was no telling what we would need for this mission.

Briggs called out a French historical battle cry. “
Montjoie Saint Denis!
”

Torchy cried out in Gaelic, “
Eigfte Co'raig!”

Harris hollered out in his Southern all-American, “Oh, hell yeah!” He then untied Ludovic and tethered him to his leather belt loop.

It was Ludovic’s turn to say something, and he studied all of us for a long moment. He raised his bottle of water. “
Salut.
It has not been a pleasure, but it is my sincerest desire tonight to end this chapter and remove Dakota from the clutches of Amicula and Queen Civetateo.”

The rest of us also raised our hands in a silent salute to his toast.

After we popped off a few more rounds for equipment checks, Ludovic cracked his knuckles and stretched out his hands. His fangs lengthened and the hair on my neck prickled. Harris stared at Ludovic, and his skin sprouted with the fine underfur that would make up his Were presence.

Ludovic patted him on the back and pulled in his fangs. “Just stretching, my comrade. Let us go and find Dakota, shall we?”

Harris relaxed back into his human form and punched Ludovic in the shoulder. “Dude, you almost became a Scooby snack.”

Khaldon pulled out a painful looking sword with spikes on the handle. He held it up over his head and then released a vampyric shrill of a growl, revealing a full mouth of bloody, sharpened teeth. His size grew a couple inches and veins popped out on his arms. I took a few steps backward from him and my eyes grew as wide as silver dollars. I’d never seen him shift into anything that wasn’t his gaming avatar, Roxas Morgwain. This was a beastlier side of him, and I wasn’t exactly sure I wanted to experience it. He was downright scary looking.

Hmmm … wonder if I can shift into something?

Briggs stretched and cricked the bones in his neck, back and forth, and then stepped into the night’s water. Fog enveloped the beach, blinding me so much I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. Briggs morphed into his fantastical dragon form of shimmery black scales. So deep in color, they luminesced in purple. I would never tire of watching a man disappear into a fog bank and emerge a massive creature. One who breathed fire and could cremate living flesh on a mere whim. I was glad Briggs was on my side. I’m sure Ludovic was a tad bit more careful around Briggs when he was in drag.

When Briggs stomped into the waves, his scales glistened in the water, making them even shinier than the glass scales I’d seen in the daylight. His ochre talons dug into the sandy beach while fiery brimstone plumed from his nose. He stared intently at me with those hypnotic, opalescent eyes.

I found myself swallowing down the lump forming in my throat. Was I really going through with this? I checked my waist harness for my firearm again and held onto it.

Torchy laughed and patted me on the head while I stared at both Briggs and Khaldon. They were quite intimidating. “It’s all right now, lass. Hesa crankin’ up the juice. No need to be a scart of them.” He turned to Khaldon. “I’ve got yer back, mate, and I’ll be yer watcher in the stars.”

Khaldon nodded, and I noticed an almost imperceptible understanding between the two men as if to say, “Stay safe, my brother.”

Torchy waved to the lot of us. “
Aye
, listen. Try not to get yerselves kilt, will ya? I cannae do this all by me self.”

Everyone was silent, but my ears tuned into their heavy heartbeats over the breaking waves. Even though the guys offered a confident façade on the outside, I still didn’t trust we had covered all the bases.

As I climbed aboard Briggs’ back, I could have sworn I heard a voice deep within telling me to stop and go back.

Unholy hell, why’d it have to be sharks and cannibals?

B
riggs had
no issue gliding us through the currents of the deadly undertows which swirled and whirlpooled around the island. Opaque waters was home-field advantage for him but a nightmare for me. I watched for fins and slithery creatures breaching the waves and prayed Briggs was using his dragon sonar deflection distraction system thingy or whatever it was. I didn’t care as long as it worked.

Torchy hovered above us, his red spikes reflecting the water’s glossy surface rendering him virtually invisible to the naked eye. The moon goddess, Diana, didn’t provide us much illumination since she was just coming off her new phase. In some ways, the lack of lighting might have been to our advantage, but we had no idea how well our adversaries could see in the dark.

The seawater was warmer than anticipated as it spewed salty sprays across my face. The briny waters stung my eyes, but it was only a momentary dis-ease, as my vampyric body healed itself almost instantly. The crashing, rhythmic pulse of the pounding waves on the beach rocks reminded me of my interactive bedroom wall which lulled me to sleep each night. Every unwelcome spray of the water confirmed my desire to be safe at home, tucked away in my bed, with my Beano boxer puppy, and far away from this insanity.

With the stealth of an octopus, we dismounted Briggs about three feet from the edge of the coral reefs. Razor blade coral outcroppings threatened to slash us to pieces while we skimmed close to the surface. We wore gloves and other impervious clothing to protect us from the poisonous barbs. The last thing we needed was to come all this way and to be shredded by the sharp rocks before we ever set foot on the ground.

The beach was a welcome relief as we scrambled out of the eerie water. I fisted handfuls of the sand, thankful to be on land once again. Heat spread through me, instantly drying my clothes, but my feet sloshed in my boots.

The haunted thundering cadence of drums pounded against the night, warning us we were not alone. We crouched low to the ground to avoid being seen. Shifting back into his human form, Briggs dressed into his warfare clothing Khaldon had packed from his cargo bag. It was hard not to peek, but I knew if I did, Briggs would catch me and that was the last thing I needed.

In the far-off distance, troops of macaque monkeys shrieked their nighttime rituals in time with the percussion clicks of man-eating beetles. The macaques’ shrieks crawled under my skin and made an itchy nest just waiting to hatch and eat their way out.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up in quick succession as I tensed, not only with visions of screaming baboons with five-inch tusks and pink butt-cheeks attacking us, but the Rakshasa throwing our bones into a pit of deadly fire ants to strip off any remaining flesh.

Get a hold on your imagination, Cheyenne.

We had timed Dakota’s rescue on one of the Rakshasa’s most sacred nights. An evening when the natives thanked their gods and goddesses for dry days. Monsoons pummeled the island for ten months out of the year. I supposed I would raise my hands to offer thanks for sunshine and preoccupied monkeys as well. I prayed the Rakshasa would be distracted enough with the rituals to provide us the opportunity to move undetected. Who was I fooling? The Rakshasa or myself?

Silent as a naval SEAL team, we performed a weapons inventory check and Ludovic homed in on Dakota’s location. Khaldon removed the shotgun from its holster behind his shoulder.

The plan was for Torchy to stay above us in his dragon form, circling the island, and maintain mind-message communication with Khaldon in case we needed to make a hasty retreat. Our only escape was to fly off the island after we rescued Dakota.

We checked our position against the GPS, and the device confirmed we were only about .10 klicks off from our landing destination. The blackout screen worked, as I could barely make out the map screen simply standing beside Harris. We adjusted our course and gingerly walked into the thick canopy of trees.

The jungle’s leafy maw swallowed us barely five feet past the beach. The air was thick with the rotting vegetation littering the ground. Hanging moss dripped out of the trees, giving me cause to consider what evil insects might be lurking and waiting to feast upon us. I remembered my Uncle Charlie once said chiggers lived in moss and not to use it if you couldn’t find any toilet paper.

Could chiggers have tropical bloodthirsty cousins?

We couldn’t afford the luxury of the
thwack thwack
sounds a blade would make against the trees, but we desperately needed a machete to clear a path since the lush foliage and ferns covered the gnarled roots making it impossible to see. A snare trap lie in wait for every step, waiting to break an ankle and face plant us into the detritus. An ambush built by the man-eating fire ants, I was sure.

Painstakingly, we moved each palm frond and leafy blade as quietly as possible while we trudged deeper into the unknown. I found refuge by grabbing onto the ropelike vines choking the tree trunks. I prayed I wouldn’t accidentally grasp onto a snake instead of one of the tree vines, leaving it to coil around me like an appetizer.

My hands slipped on the green moss growing on the thick vines. The moss slimed into a black, gooey substance, caking my hands in an oozy sludge almost to the point of not being able to hold on. I gathered wet leaves off the ground and tried to wipe it off.

Lifting a palm frond leaf revealed a foot-long red and yellow centipede. It skittered across the back of my hand and up my arm. I smacked at the damn thing and we both fell to the ground. It reared on its hinged body to attack me. Eye to eye, its pincers opened and closed. I crab-walked away from the disgusting, alien creature and wondered if my odds might have been better back out in the water. The centipede stared at me, daring me to attack. It pinched its jaws closed and open several more times and then lowered itself back to the ground. I guess the creepy-crawly thought I was no longer a threat. My heart beat in relief when it skittered back under the leaves.

Where was my keychain of mace, bug, grizzly, sunscreen, and rabid wild animal sprays when I needed it? If the critter had more than four legs, it was not a friend of mine.

My skin shivered with heebie-jeebies as I began to scratch and slap at anything that didn’t feel normal. You would think a vampire wouldn’t care much about these kinds of nuisances, but dammit, I was still part human, and vampire or not, I still didn’t like bugs.

Khaldon led the pack of us closer to the caves. I smacked an enormous mosquito biting my cheek. The monster bloodsucker reminded me of how Dakota appeared as a blood demon with her long, outstretched serpentine tongue. I hoped it wasn’t the kind of mosquito that carried the malaria virus, which killed hundreds of thousands of people each year. Suddenly, it wasn’t the cannibals I was afraid of, but the myriad tropical creepy-crawlies I had encountered.

Can a vampire die from malaria?

Up ahead, fire-lit torches surrounded the underground tunnels where Dakota had mind-messaged Ludovic she was held captive. We spread out, each searching for the best entrance. The faint rat-a-tat of nervous heartbeats pulsed around me. I was able to home in on each of the guys and feel their levels of calm. I could smell any hints of fear. I took a good whiff under my own arm and learned the only fear I sensed was my own. I was able to discern other heartbeats from the Rakshasa farther away. The natives seemed to have quiet rivers of blood pulsing under their skin, which gave me a false shred of hope we were safe to move forward.

Khaldon whispered in my ear, “Torchy says it’s clear from his vantage point. He says most of the natives are on the far side of the island.”

“Can Torchy talk to all of us?” I asked. “What if we get separated?”

“Indeed, we should have thought about that earlier. I wish I could mind-message with you, but maybe that would get me in trouble.” He winked at me. “I’ll let him know you want to hear.” Khaldon squeezed my shoulders and offered a quiet reassurance in the tone of his voice. “Relax, love—we’re on task.”

Torchy glided in stealth mode high above us to sustain our intel. I noticed his dragon scales were now non-reflective, and unless I knew to look for him, he was simply invisible. I nodded and advanced the message to Harris and Briggs. We crouched in a single-file formation and sprinted to the torch-lit entrance.

At the bottom of the steps leading to the caverns, an arched opening cut into the volcanic rock. We gathered in a small alcove and assessed our situation. Torchy gave Khaldon another “all clear,” and we tentatively descended into the cave.

Water crashed inside the cavern, echoing somewhere off the dank, moss-covered walls. The noise of the cascading water provided a solid cover from our echoing footsteps against the flagstone. However, the falls might also defeat our leverage since we wouldn’t be able to hear any of Amicula’s monsters coming up on us either. To give us as much advance warning as possible, I homed in on my hearing and tuned in for any unusual sounds.

As we advanced three more steps, the putrid stench of sulfur curdled my desire for eggs anytime soon. The dense moisture soaked me as if I’d walked into a bacterial sauna bath. Since it was difficult to see through the steam, I reached out my hand to hold Khaldon’s satchel he had draped over his shoulders in order to maintain my sense of space. The heat escalated to nearly stifling degrees. Could we be in an underground waterfall? Or is that water boiling up from the volcano?

A few more tentative steps in, and the heavy water vapor dissipated, leaving us with the unmistakable permeation of rotting flesh and ankle-deep water. The stench cloyed in my mouth as eidolons of past prisoners were reduced to macabre rag dolls, their rotting bodies hanging forgotten from the shackles.

Something scurried over my foot as I squeaked out a scream. I cupped my hand over my mouth, hoping to stifle my nerves. Skittering paws rummaged around us.

Unholy Hell. There had to be rats. Why didn’t we consider this?

Red eyes peered out from behind the imprisoned, shackled bones hanging on the wall. I’m sure they were eagerly licking their lips to get a bite out of the fresh meat that had just waltzed into their haven. I took in a deep breath of the soured air, regretting it immediately.

It’s okay. They’re much smaller than you and they have four legs. You can do this.

I sipped in short breaths to keep from passing out. Thoughts of traversing an underground sewer system laden with rats made my skin crawl and reversed engines on my stomach.

Oily torch lamps cast eerie shadows on the cracked, seeping black walls as we crept deeper into the island’s belly. We sloshed forward.

Could the echoes against the cave walls make it sound like there were more critters?

Maybe it’s only a few.

My logic was discredited by the amount of little, glowing, beady demon rat eyes staring back at me. Something told me that was simply wishful thinking.

My foot slipped sideways on something mushy and slimy, and I didn’t dare look to see if we were already walking in the cesspool of waste. Each tiny prison cell contained a table with a bucket and ladle of fetid water lined with scummy slime. Upon closer inspection, each bucket teamed with little creatures as though it had its own ecosystem.

This cave of horrors was the real deal. The haunted houses at Global Studios Halloween Scream Nights in Orlando had nothing on this creepy island. Given I hadn’t yet gotten over my case of oldhouseophobia, this cavern proved to be the scariest place I’d ever encountered on the planet or in any virtual simulated environment.

Resting against the side of the cave was a wooden staff about seven feet tall with a green glowing orb in it. I picked up the staff and inspected the intricate wooden carvings in the handle. As I moved the stick, the orb glowed brighter. We continued down the steamy hallway, but Dakota was nowhere in sight. I picked up on two very faint heartbeats.

She had to be close.

“Where is she?” I grabbed Ludovic by the shirt and hissed.

His voice vibrated with uncertainty. “I … I’m not sure. I haven’t felt her presence since we landed.”

I glared silver daggers at him.

Briggs pushed him forward and raised his hand to strike.

Sweating profusely, Ludovic flinched backward and raised his arms to shield his face.

Khaldon held up his hand in the universal gesture for
stop
. He sliced his throat with his finger indicating everyone to calm down or he was going to let loose. He then moved his index finger in front of his lips and tilted his head toward the direction to keep moving.

After the five of us exchanged heated glances, heads nodded and we set off again. About ten feet ahead of us, we turned a ninety-degree angle to the left, which led up a set of narrow stone stairs and out of the water. I was thankful to get out of the filthy slime, and my shoes sloshed with each step.

Khaldon immediately stopped and stiffened, and I ran into the back of him because I was shaking the water out of my boots. Ludovic bumped into me and I envisioned the rest of the team crashing into one another like a five-car pileup on the highway. Khaldon turned to face me and slowly exhaled. He fixed on me and reached out a hand, slowly walking us another three feet into an open cavern.

Afraid to learn what was in front of us, I fiercely conjured up the courage to engage. I stumbled back a couple steps at the horrific sight.

My knees instantly wobbled.

Briggs cursed something in French and crossed himself.

Ludovic outstretched his hand toward her. A gasp fled his throat.

Harris bent to one knee, whispering a prayer, and kissed his Saint Francis medal.

Pulses raced and hammered in my ears from everyone, including my own. Our heightened sensitivity solidified that the death scene in front of me was anything but a phantasm.

Torch lights illuminated the cell. Dakota hung limp in chained manacles by her clawed hands and at the apex of her wings. Iron shackles had worn deep bruises around her neck. Leather straps at her waist and ankles further immobilized her with no chance of escape.