Tracking the Tempest
Page 56

“I know you do, Jane. It's a classic. Now, just hold on to my arm…”
Iris managed to pull me out into the parking lot, waving Marcus away when he tried to help. “She's got me,” I explained to the ice chest that stood outdoors next to the Sty's entrance.
“I sure do, Jane. I'm just going to prop you up right… here… while I find my keys…”
Iris was digging through her voluminous purse, her golden hair flowing down around her like a nimbus of light and butterflies, when I realized something.
“Iris, I love you.”
The succubus laughed. “I know you do, Jane.”
“No, really. I love you.”
“I know, babycakes.”
“No, seriously. I really love you. And I know you always try to make out with me but that you don't mean it because you're a sex demon and whatnot. So we're cool.”
“We're not demons, Jane. And where the hell did I put my… There they are. C'mon, honey.”
“Did I tell you I loved you?”
“Yeah, you did. I love you, too.”
I shook my head, pulling us up short. “No, Iris. I really like my life now, and you're part of that. Thank you.”
Iris laughed and brushed the hair from my face.
“You're welcome, pookie,” she said as she pressed a gentle kiss to my lips.
“Did I tell you I loved you?” I mumbled against her mouth.
She was laughing, still kissing me, when we were ambushed. An all-too-familiar voice rang out from the Sty's parking lot.
“I always knew you were a fucking dyke, Jane. What with all your dyke friends.”
Stuart, bless him, always had a knack for bad timing. But this time it almost got him blasted to smithereens.
I whirled around, a swirling orb of iron-gray power aloft in my hand. I only just managed to keep from blasting it at Stu when I realized he wasn't one of my other more dangerous enemies.
“What the fuck?” Stuart stammered, his face white as he backpedaled to where his SUV was parked.
Yeah, what the fuck? the Balvenie burbled in my veins. I had no idea where I'd pulled the mage ball from.
“… fucking freak,” Stu garbled, just as he tripped in a pothole, falling on his back.
Fry the sucker, the part of me that was bloodthirsty and frazzled and sick of being pushed around advised. And you'll never have to deal with his shit again …
I looked at Stuart and I looked at the ball of light. Then I let it fizzle and die, reabsorbing its power like a good little girl.
“Make him forget, please,” I asked Iris as I lurched toward her little pink car.
Her already big eyes were huge in her face as she turned to glamour Stuart. I leaned my suddenly heated forehead against the cool steel frame of her car door, and I let myself shake it out. I'd been this close to killing Stu, and the thought horrified me. Despite the fact that he was a complete and utter butt munch.
Then Iris drove me home, and we sat in her car in my driveway for a bit to talk.
“I totally thought the human was toast.”
“Yeah, well, he sucks. But he doesn't deserve to die.”
“That's debatable. Did you see his shoes? They involved velcro.”
I couldn't help but laugh. Iris definitely had her own, very particular, priorities.
“G'night, Iris.”
“Good night, Jane.”
As I was getting out of the car, Iris stopped me.
“Jane? When you said that you learned a lot last week, you were right. I'm really proud of you.”
“Thanks, Iris.”
“No, I'm serious.”
“Okay. Well, thank you.”
“If you need me, call.”
I was still mumbling my thanks to Iris for being such a good friend as I let myself into the house. Then, after listening for my dad's snores to make sure he was asleep, I left him a note and grabbed my sleeping bag.
The sand in my little cove was soft as a bed, and I lay down with a happy sigh. I stared up at the stars through heavy eyelids and thought about the coming weeks.
I think part of me had still thought of my new life as a game, despite everything that had happened at the Compound so many months ago. But now I knew it was no game. Or, if it was, it was one of Russian roulette.
So I knew I had to be ready for whatever came next. No more joking around. Tomorrow, I'd find Nell, and we'd really train. I wouldn't fantasize about tossing her about by the bun. Or about riding away on her little pony. I'd work my tail off till I could divvy out the whoopass like a real action-adventure heroine.
But first I needed some rest.
Between the familiar comfort of my cove and the strangely soothing sucking sounds of the Old Sow, I finally felt safe enough to sleep. At one point during the night, I did start to dream about Graeme. But my nightmare was dispelled by a warm pant of cardamom breath on my cheek, followed by the caress of a dog's soft tongue. I shifted automatically as a big, soft, and very furry form nestled in the sand next to me. Snuggling against the huge dog and mumbling my thanks against his hairy side for saving me from dream-Graeme, my exhausted brain was pulled deeper into sleep as, after what felt like weeks, I finally felt safe.
Now graced with peaceful slumber, in my dreams Graeme exited stage left as Anyan entered stage right. In reality, while I slept, the real Anyan was curled up next to me in his doggy form. But in my dream world, my subconscious had grown tired of indulging my conscious mind's usual repression tactics. So dream-Jane watched as dream-Anyan shifted from doggy to man. Then dream-Jane's eyes bulged as she realized her sleeping brain had dressed the barghest in that big smile of his. And nothing else.
The dream that followed was definitely not a nightmare. Except it did leave me sweating and wide-eyed and more than a little disconcerted upon waking. At least I was alone, but for a long, black dog hair that I pulled out of my mouth.
I laid the hair down on the sand next to me and stared at it for a bit before I pulled my sleeping bag back over my head.
Ryu was going to be so pissed.