CHAPTER SEVEN
“We’re headed back to the main house before too many of the wrong women get suspicious,” the Bishop leader said.
“Do your women also complicate simple things?” Fin asked.
Their expressions answered one thousand percent as the one with heterochromia locked gazes with Handy. “The women are the life force of these swamps. Our blood, our breaths, and our every waking moment is under their control.”
Fin’s gaze snapped to his brothers. “Our women are normal.”
Handy chuckled. “Pretty sure it’s not the women causing that. It’s all you horny obsessed bastards. I should know.”
“What’s wrong with you?” the heterochromia dude asked, his head angled.
You see it? Kaphas asked.
I do now.
What is he asking about?
“What do you mean?” Handy asked .
“You’re talking different.”
How does he know? Kaphas wondered.
Find out.
Kaphas sent power into his gaze and immediately drew back out.
“Leaving so soon?” the man asked. “I don’t mind sharing.”
Sharing. “What are you sharing?” Handy asked.
“His condition allows him to absorb the powers of others while imparting a boost to theirs,” the man on his left said, reaching a hand out to them. “I’m Lesion, the swamp’s alchemist.”
Handy shook it, regarding said oddity now. Interesting. “What kind of boost?”
“Let me bite you and I’ll show you.”
“Bite?” Handy wondered, ever the more curious.
“Nitro was attacked by bats,” Lesion said. “I developed a serum of specific proteins and compounds found in bat saliva and combined it with synthetic bioenergetic amplifiers that respond to an individual’s unique bioenergy signature, which fluctuates with emotional, cognitive, and physical states. Nitro’s wife—”
“Dude,” Nitro lightly warned.
Lesion paused a few seconds before continuing. “Nitro was accidentally overdosed which resulted in heightened aggression, extreme sensitivity to sensory stimuli, and altered states of consciousness, proving the serum’s potent effects on both physiological and psychological levels. The serum has permanently modified the composition of Nitro’s saliva, endowing it with identical biochemical properties. His bite transfers the same bioenergetic amplifiers and genetic material capable of integrating into the host’s cells, temporarily enhancing their abilities. And Nitro temporarily gains access to their unique gifts due to the interaction of the serum with his bioenergy field. This interaction allows him to absorb and replicate the gifts of others.”
“Hooooly shit,” Handy marveled, regarding his own brothers before opening his arms. “Where you wanna bite me?”
The leader put his hand on the man’s chest, mumbling, “Now’s not the time or place,” in French.
“Dis-moi quand et où,” Handy said back in their tongue, smiling at their surprise before answering his first question. “I’m Handy. Kaphas is my better half.” He flashed his proudest grin. “For now, we share a body. Soon, I will have my own and you can bite it anywhere you like.”
“We’re considering using his gift to upgrade our men,” Lesion informed.
“Seeing as we can use all the bullshit we can get, to meet the other bullshit incoming,” the leader said, holding his hand out to Handy. “I shook your better half’s hand already. Name’s Bishop. ”
Handy shook it, delving carefully into his gaze with their power to see what they could see. The man’s mocha eyes held Handy’s with an intensity of heavy, unspoken thoughts. They drew forth the man’s biosignature within his kinetic energy, bringing a tingling sensation racing up their arm then settled behind Handy’s eyes, pulsing with its own life force.
Handy delved further into Bishop's gaze, the world around him blurring with shooting colors as the man’s innate ability manifested itself and amazed them. Without any help from technological advancements, he was able to construct intricate designs in his mind with incredible precision. He could mentally draft complex blueprints, understand every detail of his creations and was limited only by the conventional means of material and construction methods available to him.
Handy’s backlash power activated, bouncing the man’s gifts through a layered interface that allowed him to envision what upgrades might look like should he get the Bat King’s bite and the Quantum King’s integrations. The astonishing five second revelation ended exactly at the moment their handshake did.
He doesn’t know his own gifts, Kaphas marveled.
Should we tell him?
Handy regarded their alchemist. “Did you know your leader is a Quantum Architect? ”
They regarded Bishop and Handy elaborated at seeing their curiosity.
“He has the ability to design and construct intricate structures, blending advanced scientific understanding with creative engineering. A master over the manipulation of matter and energy. Which reflects his specialized skill set in transforming complex ideas into physical reality. Aka, Quantum Architectonics.” He chuckled at their astonished looks. “If your Bat Man here were to bite him and our boss gave him advanced upgrades, well… he’d be one hell of a force of nature.”
This got their hungry attention, even their leader. “What could he do?” Lesion asked.
“More like what couldn’t he do,” Handy said. “With the right enhancements, he could revolutionize how we handle materials. He'd have the precision to engineer specialized tools and components, tailoring them down to the molecular level. He could generate and control electromagnetic fields, giving him the ability to interface with or even disrupt electronic systems—think jamming signals or hacking on the fly. His knack for rapid prototyping would be on steroids, allowing him to whip up new tech and devices from available resources in record time.” His own excitement grew as he eyed them. “I mean… imagine adaptive systems that change with the environment , like automated response mechanisms or advanced sensors. He'd master energy conversion and storage, efficiently harnessing everything from solar power to kinetic energy. And that's not even touching on his potential with nanotechnology, crafting nanoscale structures for cutting-edge medical or electronic applications. His cognitive abilities would skyrocket, making him a strategic genius and a data-analysis powerhouse. He could directly interface with digital systems, boosting cybersecurity or optimizing operations in real-time. Plus, he’d have the skills to modify environments—optimizing buildings, creating temporary shelters, whatever's needed. And let’s not forget defensive tech; he could design non-lethal deterrents or emergency response tools with ease. In short, he would be a true technological virtuoso.”
“Whooooo!” The Bat King grabbed his leader’s shoulder, shaking it. “That’s what I’m talking about,” he muttered next to his ear. “Our Eveque would be one terrifying fucking leader.” He snapped his teeth at him and the man shoved his face away with a shake of his head. And maybe a tiny bit of masked awe.
“How did you do that?” Lesion asked.
You want to answer? he asked Kaphas.
No.
The hell no in his tone tickled his funny bone. “We have the ability to read the powers of others. And then turn it against them.” He smiled as they made the relevant oh shit connections .
“What about me?” Lesion asked, holding his hand out for a shake.
Handy regarded the hand and the snake tattoo in a strangulation coil around his muscular arm. No gifts were needed to see he was obsessed with his hermetic passions judging by the vast amount of numbers and symbols decorating the snakeskin but he surely was just as eager to see where an upgrade would take him. He locked gazes with him and with every passing second, a giddy excitement filled them at what they found. “Well, your natural gift allows you to manipulate and transform natural elements into potent mixtures for healing, harming, and enhancing.” Handy crossed his arms, looking at their leader now. “With upgrades, he’d be able to manipulate matter at the molecular level and create substances with entirely new catalyzing reactions that would defy the fuck out of conventional chemistry.” He smiled at the alchemist. “And with an enhanced bioelectromagnetic field, you’d be able to blend alchemy with advanced science, create life-altering substances while pushing the boundaries of what’s possible.” He paused in awe at his possibilities. “Your craft would evolve to where the distinction between magic and science blurs entirely, mon frere .”
The man stared at him, his hand slowly lowering. “You can see this without even touching?”
He gave a slight nod. “We can. ”
The alchemist’s expression had Handy grinning. “Cool as fuck,” he agreed. “I’ll take you on my team.” He regarded the bat dude. “And you.”
“I’ll be on whatever team my Eveque wants me on,” he said, happily laying himself on the superpower alter.
“There’s only one team in this swamp,” the leader said, regarding all of them for a few seconds. “And for something like this… we’d let the Fate Dice decide power dynamics.”
“The Fate Dice,” Handy said, feeling the energy of their collective excitement crackling the air between them.
“It’s how we decide the things we feel men are best not to decide.”
“Sounds like a lot of fun,” Kult said dryly, bringing Handy’s laugh.
“He doesn’t like giving over that kind of control.”
Their leader regarded him. “None of us do. But we do it. This is how it’s done in our swamp.”
Ownership defined. “My balls are your balls. My Eveque . My future balls,” Handy clarified.
Bishop eyed him. “Your balls would belong to the one who owns these swamps.”
After a moment, Kult divulged, “He means God.”
God. How interesting. Almost as interesting as how Kult knew that. Remind me to find out what happened to our dear brother when he shook their Seer’s hand.
Is there something wrong with your cognitive recall?
No, it’s a figure of speech between two people who share everything but the one thing they actually want.
“Your air support is nearly here,” the boom-bat said two seconds before they heard it. Impressive.
“I’d happily tag along with you all,” Handy said, “but Kaphas needs to report to the infirmary for freaks. Maybe when we have that next meeting, I’ll let the Bat Lord know what his upgrades would bring.”
The man’s one eye lit up with the hidden gifts he seemed to have no clue about. “Why not tell me now?”
“Because it comes with a lengthy list of safety instructions. I can read people’s powers and their weaknesses and your give a fuck, mon frere, is quite broken when it comes to playing with your powers.”
He broke out in a shit eating grin as his Eveque eyed him. “Something we’ve been working diligently on, oui?”
The man grinned and nodded a lot. “Oui. I’ve exchanged all my dynamite for pop guns. I’m just a teddy bear stuffed with caramel these days. ”
“Stuffed to the brim with bullshit,” his leader corrected, pulling out his phone then nodding at them. “See you all later. My Belle Eveque is calling.”
They watched them head out with Kult muttering, “His Belle Eveque.”
“Their leader is like us,” Fetch said.
“Agreed,” Fathom concurred.
“I’m sure I’ll agree tomorrow when I know what that’s like,” Fin added.
Huh. Handy wasn’t sure when he’d be able to know about that. Hopefully, real fucking soon.
****
Scarlett’s face literally hurt from all the smiling. Never ever, ever, had she been to such a place with wonderful kind people as these. Infants, toddlers, children and teens. Mothers and fathers, grandparents and great grandparents. All dancing and laughing and singing! She might imagine heaven in the swamps to look exactly like this. So much love and laughing! And she’d even danced! Once Sister Isla and Sister Rowan joined in, the rest of them followed. And songs made just for them were sung on a huge stage! They were stars of the party and it was as strange as it was wonderful.
Still catching her breath, she looked around and spotted a large group of children dancing near the group of tiny houses at the edge of the property .
Oh! She felt the front of her dress, encountering her little Welcome to the Kingdom gifts she’d packed in her apron and made her way toward them. Sister Isla said it wasn’t a day of ministry, but Scarlett very respectfully reminded her that all things, at all times, at all places belonged to the Lord. She graciously permitted her to bring one type of gift rather than her usual array. She always made a variety because every person was special. Not once had she ever felt the need to give the same gift twice even though she often had to, due to limited time and supplies. But since she’d come to live with the sisters at the Quantum Kings, she’d been abundantly blessed with every manner of crafting material she could ever dream of! She’d nearly spent every waking minute making holy trinkets infused with heartfelt prayers by which to impart the Lord’s love to the lost. The fact that she’d forgotten all about them was a testimony to the abundant spirit of love and peace in that place.
Well, they may not need the trinkets but maybe they’d like one.
Making her way through the crowd, she laughed at realizing the children were pairing off and dancing together in some kind of jig. How adorable!
A sharp yell of pain brought her to an instant stop as she searched between the little houses for the source. The flash of two bodies clashing in some kind of fight sent her racing toward them .
“Stop!” she yelled out, her words drowned by the crowd and band as she lifted her skirts and ran faster.
She made it to the edge of the two writhing bodies, shocked to see David and Goliath sized men, rolling around on the ground, shirtless! “You get off of him!” she yelled, right as the boy howled.
His agony brought a sick terror and she dove right onto the giant’s back and went banshee on him, wrapping her arms around his massive head, scratching and screaming with all her might.
“Ma’am! Ma’am!”
Scarlett’s eyes popped open to the smaller boy trying to loosen her grip on the giant, her scream finally reaching the end of the air in her lungs.
“He wasn’t hurting me, we were just practicing!”
Practicing?
She realized not just her arms wrapped the giant, but her legs too!
That word returned to her brain. Practicing. Practicing what? Hurting children?
“Can you get her off?”
The man’s deep words were like drums in her body, giving her the ability to unlock her limbs. The wind blasted from her lungs when she hit the ground with a bone jarring force, telling her just how tall the beast was !
The man stalked behind her and his huge hands wrapped her waist and lifted her, setting her on her feet.
“Ma’am are you okay?” he asked.
She fought to get herself balanced, turning to find the brute staring down at her with a fierce scowl.
She regarded the boy and the tattoo on his chest and… muscles. She scanned him, finding zero signs of the little David she thought she was rescuing.
She turned to the towering wall of muscle, covering her gasp with a hand at the sight of blood dripping down his face.
“Are you hurt?” The man’s angry rough words caused her muscles to jerk. He looked at the smaller man. “Does she not speak English?”
“I… I do speak English,” she blurted, holding both hands over her chest, fighting to still the mad beat of her heart. Oh dear, what had she done? “I thought you were hurting him.”
“I realize that, ma’am,” he said, “but are you hurt?”
She shook her head, her brain feeling scattered to kingdom come, making it hard to remember words.
“My shirt,” he said to the smaller man, holding his hand out as Scarlett lowered her head. She’d been staring! Because he was unreal looking. A true giant! A human phenomenon. Of course she stared, who wouldn’t! The shock of him practically drew her eyeballs right from their sockets and they followed his body’s every move as he covered sweaty tan skin with a black t-shirt.
She spun herself around when he was done, realizing she was an entire minute too late.
“I’m… so very, very sorry, I… I panicked when I thought you were hurting a child.”
The boy man’s chuckle brought heat to her cheeks.
“The distance prevented me from properly… judging his size. And your size is… somewhat of a Goliath next to his, giving the appearance of a man beating on a child!”
She fought not to turn from him when he made his way around to stand before her. Her eyeballs again would not be refused their duty to look and see this wonder before her. “I’m the leader of the hand-to-hand combat hatch here. He’s my second in command, we were working on a new takedown for training my men.”
Leader! “Oh no,” she gasped, remembering that there were twelve leaders of the South Marsh. “Are you… referring to the… the group they call the Twelve?”
His second in command let out a sharp laugh while she stared right into his piercing, sage green eyes, breaking all sorts of etiquette rules. Then he moved his gaze to his student and the disconnect felt like a band-aid getting ripped from her retinas! She tried to lower her head and turn away, but she couldn’t stop looking! It wasn’t the nasty bloody streaks on his face that her eyes were glued to, but the fancy scroll tattoo lining the muscles of his massive neck!
He faced her again and she jumped at the return of his intense stare. “I am.”
Her mouth hung open at those two words straight from the Bible. ‘ Before Moses was…I am. ’ Her brain scrambled for his meaning, clearly wasn’t Jesus. The concerned lopsided slant on his perfect brows meant she was creating a disaster of her reputation which meant the reputation of all the sisters! I am, I am, he was what? He was a leader, he was… he was a Twelve! She’d attacked one of The Twelve!
Panic and dread filled her as she shoved her hands into her apron pockets and filled them with her gifts. “ Please accept my apology, sir,” she begged, dropping half of them as she shoved them at his second in command. She lowered to pick them up, fighting to regain control of herself. “They are… made of twisted, fine copper.”
The two men stooped down and began helping when she kept dropping them.
“They’re made of… soft metal, twisted.” She dumped them back in her skirt as they attempted to give her the ones she’d dropped. “Keep them. Give them to… the children. I made each one with special prayers. They come with a message of hope and love. I us ually make… different things for different people because no two people are the same, right?”
“They’re pretty cool,” the second in command said. “My name’s Rex by the way.” He smiled at her real big. “Never had a nun fight for me before.”
The surprising compliment nearly did her in as she focused on reclaiming some of her dignity and reputation. “And I’ve never attacked another human before.”
He smiled bigger somehow, reminding her with a low whisper. “You attacked the fiercest leader of the marsh. Left marks on his pretty face too.”
She closed her eyes and forced herself to face her giant victim. “I cannot tell you how very… I don’t even know the words for how terrible I feel, and stupid.”
“I think it was a first for all of us. My name is Spar. And no need to feel stupid. As foolish as it was, it was still brave. What’s your name?”
She swallowed, finding her throat dry as ancient parchment. “Scarlett. Sister Scarlett.” She remembered her manners and gave a curtsy with a little head bow, feeling like a clumsy convent girl.
“Well, Sister Scarlett, I will need to file a report and possibly a restraining order.”
Instant terror and dread brought her hand to her mouth right as he laughed.
“I’m kidding. Where are you from and who taught you how to rear mount like that? ”
Her mouth wobbled and bobbed as her brain tripped over itself. “Kansas. Salina Kansas. I’m the youngest of five. All girls. But… I was the tomboy. My… father wanted a son and so I… I tried to become strong.”
She lowered her head as shame burned her cheeks at the personal info dump.
“I guess if you wanted, I could teach you a few moves. You can be my first female student. Then you can teach your other sisters.”
“Now that’s a good idea,” Rex said. “Given the current state of affairs.”
Scarlett shook her head. “I don’t fight. My hands are used for praying.”
Spar’s laugh boomed inside her blood and chest. “Tell that to my face.”
“I’ve never—”
“You said you was a tomboy,” Rex reminded in a gentle chide.
“I surely have used my hands in ways that God would not be proud of. I left those ways when I became a nun.”
“Uh oh,” Rex said. “We in trouble with the Big Man.”
“Nothing wrong with violence if you’re protecting the innocent,” Spar said, his tone rough. “What say you, Sister Scarlett?”
That blasted fish syndrome returned. “I think… my job and your job are different. Some are ca lled to violence by the will of the Lord for his own purpose. What is in a man’s heart judges his actions. And… I don’t know what’s in your heart.”
“So, you protect our souls while we protect your… holiness,” Rex chuckled.
“You still should know how to defend yourself,” Spar said.
His gruff tone brought her gaze up to try and understand why. “The Lord is my defense. Sir.”
“I agree. And here you are, standing with the leader of the combat hatch. After attacking him with your praying hands. Drawing blood. To protect the innocent.”
She didn’t like the corner he was pushing her into. Her pulse beat a wild rhythm as she thought about what was right. Sometimes God’s ways could be very unseemly. She considered things from such an angle, and it occurred to her. “Here I am, yes. And here you are. Standing with a warrior of Christ. I do wonder now which of us was meant to meet who.”
Rex laughed, with a “Woo-whoo-whoooo, a warrior of Christ! Feel that bayou burn, boss.”
“Very impressive,” Spar said, his approval working its wonder in her tense guts. “I suppose I accept. Do you?”
Fish mouth mode activated. She stared at him, confused. “What do you accept?”
“Your spiritual warfare training. That’s your specialty? ”
Her head knew more than she did on the matter, nodding the answer for her.
“And do you accept the purpose of your fate in this? Do you accept physical training so that you can defend the innocent in all things?”
She stammered about in herself, realizing he’d again put her in a corner. “I must… obtain counsel from my peers on such a matter. We are called to spiritual warfare.” She cleared the weakness from her throat. “We fight not against flesh and blood but against powers in high places.”
“Sounds like a kick-ass good time,” Spar said, like she’d added a bonus. “Now you’ll be a spiritual warrior and a physical one. Works out perfectly since your spirit is housed in that little innocent body.”
“I am not my own—”
“Exactly,” he said. “You belong to God, yeah?”
Her nod brought her a foot deeper into her hole.
“Then you’re obligated to protect yourself too. Unless you think God wanted you to allow wicked people to hurt the innocent while you pray for their spirits?”
Mercy. She raised her gaze to his, needing to understand how he was managing it. Pushing her into a corner with such ease. A corner she had no escape from that she could see. She caught the barest smile on his mouth and the threat of such a thing happening on his terrifying god-like face, further discombobulated her. What would such a thing look like?
“I think you’ve rendered her speechless,” Rex chuckled. “It’s just self-defense. He can teach you non-lethal moves if it makes you feel better.”
It finally came to her. The escape hatch. “I actually already know self-defense,” she said. “Before I joined the convent, I was a tomboy as you already know. But I gave all that up. Took a vow.” She remembered the Twelve’s vow of celibacy and hurried before stopping to think, “Like the vow you took.”
Before she could hope he missed her glaring mistake, Rex’s laugh filled the air. “That vow is no longer. Spar here is free. And then he got married. Was a quick death,” Rex lamented, slapping the man on the shoulder as those words bing-bong-bingged through her head like a pinball machine before the ball passed right through the paddles into the you lose zone.
She waited for the huge breath of relief then forced it out when it refused to come. If he was married, then it was surely not appropriate. Or maybe it was most appropriate. She was to be married to a soldier. Eventually. She’d put herself at the end of that line, wanting to enjoy her freedom for as long as she could. She just wanted to minister to the lost and being married to a… robot soldier would surely hamper that.
“Ask your superior,” Spar insisted, ending the debate in her head.