Queen of the Magnetland (The Elemental Phases Book 5) (38 page)

At
the moment, though, he had bigger problems than vanishing vegetation.  Swearing
fluidly, he pushed himself up onto his elbows and already knew that this was
the Cult’s fault.

“Hand
it over, human!”  A male voice bellowed.  “You know you can’t win this.”

Christ,
he hated it when they called him “human.”

Sullivan’s
world was still spinning as a pair of gigantic hands seized him.  A monstrous
Cult member dragged him to his feet.  Since Sullivan topped out at just over
six and a half feet, he was used to being the biggest guy in the room.  Whoever
this Cult member was, he had Sullivan beat.  The guy was like a giant on
steroids.  His blonde hair was shaved into a Mohawk, except for the yellow
streak at his temple.  Dressed in black and grinning at the havoc he’d caused,
he tossed Sullivan backwards like a sack of flour.

“Don’t
bother fighting, because you can’t win, boy.”  The guy taunted as Sullivan hit
the sand, for the second time.  “Just give me the box and live to lose another
day.”

Box? 
This was about that rumor Randa had been talking about?  Someone actually
believed
that shit?

“Are
you fucking stupid?”  Sullivan got out, standing up, again.

The
guy obviously didn’t like that question.  He let loose another volley of air. 
It hit Sullivan’s chest like a cannon and he skidded across the beach,
wondering if his ribs had just cracked.

“Son-of-a-
bitch
.” 
He glared at Mr. Mohawk, his hand going to his injured side.  “That’s it.  You
are under a-goddamn-
rrest
, asshole.”  He staggered to his feet yet again,
because Sullivan had never known when to stay down.  No matter how stupid it
was, he always kept fighting.

The
guy gave a slow smile as Sullivan faced him.  “I kinda hoped you’d be warrior. 
It just makes this more fun.”

“No!” 
A woman ran forward, looking panicked.  “Stop!”

A
couple months before, she’d introduced herself to Sullivan as “Hadlyn
Red-Cloud.  The Cult seemed to favor names plagiarized from the American West. 
Hallie was one of the more persistent weirdoes shadowing him.  Last week, she’d
offered to buy him an airplane in exchange for going out to dinner with her. 
Sullivan had turned it down, but she still wasn’t giving up.  Like a lot of
Cult members, she kept asking him out, no matter how many times he locked her
up for stalking.

As
a group, they weren’t great at taking hints.

“Sax,
what the hell do you think you’re doing?!”  She shrieked.  “Job said Sullivan
was to be protected and you
know
it.  Haven’t you Air Phases done
enough
damage without you hurting…?”

“I
don’t give a shit what Job says!”  The giant named Sax interrupted.  “And I’ve
been Banished by the pussies in the Air House, so I don’t give a shit about
them, either.  As for you and the Weather Phases, you need to go back to
planning afternoon showers and stay out of my way, Hallie.  I’m finally going
to get the power I deserve and no one will stop me.  Not you and not
him
.” 
He jabbed a finger at Sullivan.  “This filthy primate is going to give me what
I want or I’ll break every bone in his body.  So, fuck off unless you want the
same.”

“He
could be someone’s Match, you idiot!”  Hadlyn insisted.  “Parson was his
grandfather.  He’s the best hope we have of…”

“Hallie,
get away from him.”  Sullivan interrupted and pulled his gun free.  Actually,
it wasn’t
his
gun.  It was the one he’d found hidden at the small of his
back that morning he’d woken up on his front lawn.  From the position of it in
his waistband, Sullivan had known he was the one who’d put it there, but damn
if he could remember where it had come from.  It had to be some kind of Cult
weapon.  “Sir, I’m going to ask you nicely to get on the ground and put your
hands behind your back.”

Sax
made an incredulous sound.  “Or
what?
  You’ll shoot me?”  He gave the
universal “Ooooh, I’m so scared” face that all ten year old boys mastered on
the playground.  Whatever the gun was, he obviously didn’t recognize it as a
threat.  “Do you really not understand what I am, human?  Do you
really
think a bullet will work on an Elemental?”

“Let’s
just say, I’ve been anticipating for an opportunity to find out.”  Instinctively,
Sullivan knew that the gun was dangerous to them.  It was why he’d hung onto
it.  Sullivan didn’t trust anyone else, but he always trusted his instincts.

Sax
spread his arms and kept coming closer.  “Do it, then.  I
dare
you.”  He
smirked.  “You’re a dirty mongrel, but there’s Wood Phase in your DNA
someplace.  I’ll give a chance to prove you come from real warriors, before I
beat you down.”

Sullivan’s
eyes flicked passed him, counting six other Cult members with yellow streaks at
their temples moving into position to back Sax up.  At least, he
thought
they were yellow.  Maybe they were a pastel green.  Whatever color their hair
was, the men were all on the same team and it sure wasn’t his.

“I
don’t have your box.”  He reported, because always liked to give folks one last
chance not to be morons.  “And I don’t want to fight you.  Stand down.”

They
clearly didn’t share his desire for peace.  Another blond man came stalking
closer, his face set in determined lines.

“Yasil,
don’t!”  Hallie shouted as the guy advanced.  “Sullivan’s the only male
half-breed that we know of.  He’s priceless.”

“Not
to me he’s not.”

Sullivan
swiveled the gun to sight on the blond man, his ribs aching and his head
swimming.  “I don’t want to fight you,” he repeated calmly, “but that doesn’t
mean I won’t kill you.”

The
guy actually laughed.  “You have no idea who you’re dealing with, human, if you
think that little gun will…”

Wham!

Three
more Cult members arrived, appearing beside Sullivan.

One
of them he recognized as Alder I-Don’t-Have-A-Last-Name-Because-I’m-
Alder-Of-The-Fire
House.
  Sullivan had locked that guy up so many times, he’d briefly
considered hiring
him
as the station’s receptionist.  If Alder was going
to be there anyway, he might as well answers the phones and make himself
useful.

For
once, Sullivan was glad to see the freak.

Alder
was Teja’s nephew.  Logic told him that he was better off forgetting she even
existed, but his feelings didn’t agree.  Those same damn whispers that kept him
alive when disaster struck, sparked to life whenever he thought of that
annoying woman.  He had no idea why.  It was like she was key to his survival,
as far as they were concerned.  His instincts growled in satisfaction because
his link to Teja was
back
.

If
he had Alder, Teja would eventually appear.  Locking up her relatives was the
best way to draw her out of hiding.  Sullivan had done it before and he could
do it, again.  The downside of the plan was he had to spend time with Alder.

“Hi
ya, Sully.”  Alder said causally.  He looked like the kind of guy who whiled
away his days in motorcycle bars, getting gangland tattoos and committing
murder-for-hire.  “Take a step to the left, will ya?”

Sullivan
barely had time to shift out of the way before a rush of fire burst forward
like a flamethrower.  It went blazing passed him, so hot he was surprised the
sand didn’t turn to glass.  Sullivan cringed at the grisly sounds of at least
two of his attackers being broiled alive.

Jesus,
the paperwork on this was going to be a nightmare.

The
other four guys rallied quickly, racing towards Alder and wielding their
swords.  Sullivan felt as if he’d been transported into a George R.R. Martin
novel, where knights were questing for an iron throne.  Apparently used to the
insane, Alder and the other two newcomers took on the Hollywood stunt team of
“Air Phases” like it was no big deal.  All four of the yellow haired attackers
were on the ground before Sullivan could even blink.  His eyes stayed fixed on
Yasil, who was groaning in pain.

Holy
shit
.

Barely
winded from the fight, Alder kept talking like this was any other Friday.  “So,
these are my parents, Djinn and Pele.”  He told Sullivan as if they were all
meeting at Starbucks.  “Dad is Teja’s cousin.  They’re like siblings.”  He
leaned closer to Sullivan and lowered his voice.  “FYI:  Dad doesn’t really
approve of you, so try to be less human-y and more likable, okay?”

Sullivan
ignored that.  The other two weirdoes looked like Alder.  They both had exotic
features and red stripes at their temples.  (Or possibly green.)  But there was
no way they could be Alder’s parents.  They were maybe five years older than
the guy.

Sullivan’s
eyes caught Djinn’s.  Something in the way the man stood there screamed, “Hi,
I’m the perpetrator of a tri-state crime-spree.  Wanna buy a spleen?”  His dark
hair was combed back from his forehead, desperado-style; his massive body a
WrestleMania event waiting to happen.

“So
you’re Teja’s human, huh?”  Djinn looked Sullivan over with arrogant menace and
snorted in derision.  “Well, that explains why she’s avoiding you.”

Sullivan’s
eyes narrowed.

The
woman named Pele, who must’ve given birth to Alder when she was in
kindergarten, made a considering sound.  She was tall, with an athletic build
and dark ponytail.  Leaning against her sword like it was a cane, she studied
Sullivan as if he was an exhibit in a zoo.  “The boy
is
sorta pretty,
D.”  There was nothing but clinical interest in her voice.

The
Texas
Chainsaw Massacre
refugee grunted.  “Yeah, he’s just
beautiful.”  Djinn drawled.  “Still not good enough for my cousin, though.”  He
spun the sword around in his hand, so the steel glinted in the sunlight.  The
very casualness of the motion would have sent anyone with half a brain running
for their lives.

Too
bad for him, Sullivan had never been good at backing down.  His father had
taught him that running was pointless.  He raised his gun so it was centered on
Djinn.  “I’m gonna hafta ask to see some ID and for all of you to drop your
blades. 
Now
.”

If
it was possible to look more unimpressed than the most unimpressed person in
the universe had
ever
looked… Djinn achieved it.

Alder
quickly weighed in.  “Not to sound all ‘your puny weapons are useless against
us.’  But, let’s face it… they are.”  He told Sullivan.  “Just stand over there
and let us handle the Air Phases, okay?  He looked over at Sax.  “Now, what the
fuck are you doing coming after our human?”

“You
think I’m afraid of you assholes?”  Sax seethed.  “
Huh?!
  I’ll end all
of you right here, if you get in my way.”

“Alder,
stay away from him.”  Sullivan ordered.  They might have won round one, but the
rest of these jokers weren’t retreating.  The ones who were still breathing,
anyway.  Sax looked especially pissed.  Loudmouth punk or not, Sullivan didn’t
want Teja’s nephew hurt.

Alder
disregarded Sullivan’s order and stalked across the beach
towards
the
huge maniac threatening to kill him.  “Well, one of us is about to die, that’s
for sure.”  Much like his “father” had, he gave his sword a practiced twirl
that promised death and pain.  “Powers or blades, Saxon?  You pick.  Either
way, I’m going to win, so it’s really just about choosing how bloody you want
you die.”

Pele
didn’t seem to notice her “son” threatening to dismember a man.  “No wonder all
the unMatched women have been so excited about meeting you, Sullivan.”  She
leaned in closer, obviously wanting to poke at him in scientific curiosity. 
“Even though you’re mostly just a human, you do have a lovely scar.”  She
mused.  “The Wood House has always bred warriors, though, so I’m not
surprised.  They’re dull as hell, with their moralizing and rule-following, but
they put up some decent fights.  Good to know you have some of that spunk in
you.”

Sullivan’s
jaw tightened.  Most people weren’t ballsy enough to say anything about the
scar.  Not where he could hear them, anyway.  The raised, concentric circles
radiated over the left side of his face, dominating his features.  He wasn’t
sure if Pele was just dumb as a brick, utterly insensitive, or being a bitch.

Meanwhile,
Sax seemed to be having second thoughts about the whole “challenging the
lunatics” thing.  Alder wasn’t abandoning the offensive and his “father” was
right there beside him.  Teja’s family must have had a reputation straight out
of a Scorsese film, because Sax tried to backpedal in the face of their wrath.

“Hang
on.”  The Air Phase held up his palms, adopting a different tactic.  “Let’s see
if we can make a deal, before everything goes nuts here, alright?  No sense in
killing each other over a human.  None of us wants more violence.”

“The
Fire House doesn’t make deals.”  Djinn retorted without a drop of emotion. 
“And we
always
want more violence.”

“Mister,
don’t make a bad situation worse.”  Sullivan warned.  “It would make my holiday
bright to lock you up, too.  Shut-up and surrender your weapons. 
Now
.”