Swimming With The Sharks (Fantasy #1)
Prologue
Zotol walked into the home he shared with his
beautiful mate. He couldn’t wait to tell him about all he had done
for the day. Being Jinn was not all fun and games but today he had
enjoyed a particularly lovely day swimming with his old friend
Jabari.
Jabari had shown him the wonders of the great
Atlantic and damn he wished his mate would have joined them today,
but the man was obsessed with two things... anything dealing with
plants, and... the internet... ugh.
Zotol would never understand the wonders people
found in that computer space land. Shit, he couldn’t even turn one
on without wanting to throw the fucking thing across the room and
why... he asked himself, why in the hell did the stupid thing have
to speak an entirely different language? Zotol could speak just
about every language around the world, and even those not part of
this world, but computer talk... nope. RAM, Reboot, Cookies,
Bits, Bites, Trojans, Worms... for the love of the gods,
really? “Without a trojan I would like to ram my worm and bits
into my mate’s cookies as he screams to the world, and once we
reboot we can do it all over again. That is as close to a computer
as I ever want to get.”
Hearing the sound of his lovely mate’s sniffles
stopped Zotol in his tracks. Why was Xolin crying? His beautiful
mate should never cry. Zotol had promised his baby that he would
never have a reason to feel sorrow, pain, or fear on the day they
met, and hearing his quiet crying mate made Zotol’s heart feel like
it would break. This had to be fixed, and whoever hurt his baby
would have to die.
Quietly, Zotol made his way further into the
home he shared with Xolin. He’d never forget the day he had come
here looking for an herb for a spell he wanted to try. Jinn didn’t
often use spells, but he had been bored and wanted to learn
something new. He had done that often, but then again, being
immortal, things tended to become old after a period of time. That
was why he had learned so many languages, studied so many
religions, myths... not all were as mythical as they thought, just
the stories—not exactly accurate most of the time—searched for
about every shifter he had heard about in those lovely romance
novels, and so many other things... like spell casting. The moment
he had walked into Natural Fantasy, Zotol knew that his life was
about to change. It wasn’t just the smell of fresh rain and wet
earth that made goosebumps form all over his body, but the sight of
Xolin bent over watering some plant or another.
The sight of that man’s sexy ass made Zotol so
hard, he worried if he accidently hit it, the damn thing would
break off. Then Xolin stood and turned. The first thing that made
Zotol forget to breathe was the lavender eyes staring back at his
own emerald green. The color really popped with that long blond
hair. Xolin was only a couple of inches shorter than Zotol’s own
six feet, he couldn’t be much lighter than his own one seventy-five
and his build... holy shit, it was like the man went swimming every
day. Fuck, Zotol always had a weak spot for a muscle-toned swimmer.
The man was a true god and when the man smiled... fuck, Zotol was
sure he was going to come in his pants. Then he spoke the word,
“Hello,” and Zotol had to think of his grandmother getting it on
with his grandpapa in order to get his shit under control.
They had known from that very moment they were
mates, and thank the gods, they didn’t waste any time bonding. That
had been five hundred centuries ago and Zotol had never regretted
it for a second and had kept his words he had spoken when he came
inside his mate for the first time during the bonding. Yet, here
his mate sat, looking at that stupid contraption screen and
crying.
“Who do I need to kill?” Zotol demanded, “I will
kill whoever has placed those wet lines on your face and puffed up
that adorable tweaky nose. Just tell me who and they will regret
whatever the fuck it is they have done.”
Xolin shook his head, blew his nose, then
grabbed another tissue to wipe his eyes. His voice was rough from
crying as he said, “No one did anything. There’s a viral post and
it just broke my heart.”
Xolin waved him over and Zotol immediately went
to his mate’s side. “Viral? You’re sick? How is this even possible?
Not only are you a druid and the son of Myrddin Wyllt, you are the
mate of a Jinn. It isn’t possible for you to become ill.”
A small laugh came from Xolin which had Zotol
feeling a tad better, but also very confused. His mate cupped his
cheek, saying, “If my father catches you calling him by his given
name instead of Merlin, he is going to put you in one of those
bottles with a ship inside... and no, I’m not sick, my love. A
viral post is something put on the internet that millions of people
view. You really need to at least try and learn at least the basics
about computers. They are the tool of these present times.”
Zotol waved his mate off. “Pfft. I’ve been
around since almost the beginning of time, my heart. If I could
make it through the sixties without being scathed, I do believe I
can make it through the two thousands.”
Xolin gave another laugh, which was what Zotol
was going for. He then said, “Yes, those were some trying times.
Fun but a little too carefree for my liking.”
Giving his mate a soft kiss, Zotol rubbed his
hardening cock against his sexy mates, saying in a suggestive tone.
“I don’t know. I seem to remember some very good times for my
liking.”
His mate smacked Zotol’s chest and laughed. “So
do I. Now stop that, I have a buyer coming in a few minutes for
some herbs he needs to help his sick dog.”
Sighing, Zotol gave his mate a quick kiss.
“Fine, but until then, show me this thing that made you cry.”
Xolin clicked a few buttons and pointed at the
picture of a nice looking young man. He was a bit on the thin side,
and looked to be about five nine or ten with extremely short,
blond, spiky hair and he was wearing a light jacket, which
surprised Zotol since it was in the middle of June. “He’s
nice-looking enough. A bit skinny for my taste, but nice looking. I
don’t get it. Is it the fact that he’s wearing a jacket in the
middle of summer that has the humans interested?”
Shockingly, Zotol saw his lover’s eyes fill with
tears once again as he shook his head. He swallowed once, then
twice before he could actually speak and when he did his voice was
rough and raspy, “He’s wearing a jacket because he has a hard time
with body temperature regulation, and he’s so skinny because he
hasn’t been able to eat. His name is Foster Witman. He just won his
rights to take back his life from a court of law.”
“What are you talking about? He looks old enough
to make decisions for himself, why would he need to fight to make
decisions for himself?” Zotol asked.
Xolin wiped his eyes and explained. “Foster has
suffered from a form of Leukemia since he was ten years old. He has
been treated time and again, and just when they thought they had it
beat, the disease would return again and again. Foster didn’t want
any more treatments, but just before his eighteenth birthday, his
parents went to the courts and had the judge make them his medical
guardian.”
“Okay. That seems reasonable if the man couldn’t
make those choices for himself.” Zotol replied.
“He had cancer not a developmental disability,
love. The thing is, Foster was trying to get his rights back from
the time he was eighteen, but with the cancer and all the
treatments it took a great deal of energy.”
“Energy he didn’t have.” Zotol stated in
understanding.
Nodding, Xolin said, “At nineteen his cancer
went into remission again and he was recovering from all the
treatments. He finally went to the courts and filed to have his
rights returned to him, but the judge denied him his request. A few
years passed and a girl, Kelly something or other, he went to
school with went to law school. One of the classes she was in
started talking about Power of Attorneys. She brought up Foster’s
case and the professor took an interest. He decided to use Foster’s
case as an example, and when he spoke to the class they all agreed
they wanted to investigate what was going on. They did some digging
and discovered that the judge who had awarded Foster’s parents the
POA for everything medical was a good friend of theirs.”
“And this was the same judge that denied his
request for another hearing on the situation?” Zotol asked.
Again, Xolin nodded, “Yes. So anyway, the
professor took what his class had put together alongside some of
his colleagues that owned a very renowned law office. They offered
to take Foster’s case on pro bono, but when they contacted him, it
seemed the cancer was back and his parents weren’t about to allow
some lawyers to talk to him. So Kelly offered to go and see the
boy. It seemed the sensible thing to do and Foster’s parents knew
they were friends. While she did that, the law firm sent someone to
the courthouse and started working on getting the judge removed
from Foster’s case. When Kelly came back with signed papers, the
firm went fast forward and took care of everything. It took a bit
of time, but they got the POA removed, and not only that, but it
seemed that his parents hadn’t told him that when his grandfather
had passed away he had left Foster and his parents a buttload of
money. The judge not only ordered his portion to be transferred to
him, but the judge also ordered compensation to Foster for their
deception or whatever. So he’s pretty much set for life... however
long that might be.”
“So he’s got his life back as he wanted and a
nice little nest egg to help him move forward. What’s his plan when
the chemotherapy is over? I mean I take it if the cancer’s back,
that means his parents had him going through the treatments?” Zotol
asked.
“Yeah, they did, but the second Foster became
his own medical guardian, he immediately put a stop to all
treatment. He said he was tired. He was sick of needles and all the
invasive procedures he had to go through. He said he’d been
fighting for over eighteen years and he was just done. He is sick
of being sick and ready for whatever comes next.” Xolin said
remorsefully, and started crying again.
Zotol held his mate, whispering softly words
that made no sense. Xolin said through his tears. “The strength
that man must have to fight for so long and the courage to know
that his life is about to end at such a young age... oh, Zotol, he
is a remarkable man.” Xolin cried harder, trying to still talk,
“A... and do... do you kn... know what he... what he says he’s....
he’s going to do until his time comes?”
Zotol shook his head, tears in his own eyes from
the pain he could feel coming from his lover. “No, baby, I
don’t.”
“He... he’s going to go deep... deep sea
fishing. He can’t... he can’t swim with the shar... sharks like he
always dre... dreamed be... because all the chem... chemo
treatments have left his lungs weak. So he wants to at... at least
see some.” Xolin stammered, and then cried some more.
Holding Xolin tight, Zotol thought about what
his mate was saying. This Foster’s life story had broken his mate’s
heart and Zotol could understand why, but it didn’t make things any
better for Zotol. His mate should never feel such hurt. And as
Xolin’s mate it was his responsibility to make things right, and he
knew just what to do.