Chapter 12
Why You Been Actin’ So
Messed Up Toward Us?
Palms facing forward, Griffin’s hands shot up while he sidled in front of me, blocking most of my body from Fanny’s line of sight—or rather, the sight line of her revolver.
“Whoa, there, Fanny,” he called to her. “What the hell’s going on? What do you think you’re doing, pointing a gun at us?”
“Yeah, what the hell?” Layla asked, her voice rising in pitch, convincingly conveying befuddled terror. She was either in full actress mode or genuinely panicking, I couldn’t even tell anymore.
While Fanny cocked a hip in her standard floral maxi skirt and Birkenstocks, with socks this time, and so incredibly at odds with the unwavering grip she held on the gun, Griffin spoke urgently into our secret chat.
Brady said, while a mean smile spread across Fanny’s face, erasing my earlier comparisons between her and Judi Dench or Helen Mirren.
She stalked closer, three mercenaries dressed for a showdown shadowing her. Jaggar and Raynar weren’t among them, though that provided no relief, given the resolved, unfeeling look in their eyes. They were killers who didn’t see a bunch of inoffensive young adults, but rather targets.
Brady had moved immediately beside Griffin.
From behind a wall of their muscled backs, I could barely see Fanny.
Hunt stood in front of Layla. Even before all this dying and resurrecting, our guys had always been especially protective of us, no matter how many times we insisted we could defend ourselves.
“What are you doing out here?” Fanny demanded of us, ignoring Griffin’s and Layla’s questions.
She and her three goons came within a dozen feet of us when Bobo barked then growled, low in his chest.
She pointed the gun at him. From the other two Escalades, another eight mercenaries, also decked out in full paramilitary gear, emerged but remained beside the cars. The threat they posed was clear, however.
I rose to my tiptoes and glared at her over Griffin’s shoulder. “Don’t point a gun at my dog.”
Griffin reached behind himself to hook his arm around my hip in a steadying touch.
“I asked you a question,” Fanny said, keeping the barrel pointed right where it was.
Bobo bunched his shoulders and dipped his head into them. His lips pulled back to bare sharp teeth. His tail was pointed, stiff as an arrow.
“And I told you not to threaten my dog,” I said.
Bobo’s growls were vibrating through his barrel chest.
“He’s threatening me,” Fanny said.
“Because you’re threatening us,” I said. Like, duh?
“Drop the gun and he’ll calm down,” Griffin said.
Fanny tipped her head as if in consideration, taking in the lot of us, all huddled together.
“No.”
“Whaddya mean, no?” Brady asked. “What the fuck are you pointing that thing at any of us for anyway? What the fuck did we ever do to you?”
Fanny chuckled brightly, as if she found real humor in his questions—or maybe it was in our predicament. Being such a fan of Magnum—and of Magnum Four, even—I didn’t doubt her gauge of normal behavior was skewed.
“What did you do to me, he asks,” she muttered. “You ungrateful little shits!”
She waved her revolver in the air before settling it back on Bobo, whose rolling growls came without ceasing.
Brady crossed his arms over his chest. “Does Uncle Magnum know you’re here, being all crazy with us like this?”
Fanny snorted before her features pinched back into cruel angles. “Does Uncle Magnum know … ? Of course he knows! Everything I do is for him. Everything I’ve ever done is for him.”
Her tone was strident, as if she were as close to a mental breakdown as the rest of us, which seemed ridiculous, given that we were the ones under constant threat of death and not her.
Fuck. Her.
Layla sidestepped Hunt and also raised her hands in a silent, Don’t hurt me, you crazy bitch.
“So, I’m megaconfused right now. What happened to you? You’ve always been so nice to us. Why you been actin’ so messed up toward us right now?”
I suspected the Zoolander reference was lost on our audience.
“We just wanted to go for a nice drive. But … something’s wrong.” Layla shook her head artfully, and now I was sure it was all theatrics. My girl was aces.
Her face scrunched up into dumb-bimbo levels of confusion. “For some reason, it’s like we can’t … leave. I dunno. Do you know what’s going on?”
I said privately.
Fanny no longer considered Bobo from along the pistol’s barrel, but she still pointed it at my sweet boy. Her eyes on Layla, she sneered openly.
“Of course I know what’s happening. I know everything. And you are idiots for making Magnum work so hard for everything he’s fighting to accomplish.”
“What … ?” Layla looked from her to us as if flummoxed by this change of direction. “What are you even talking about?”
Fanny chortled darkly. “Magnum is the greatest gift ever sent to humanity. The Aquoians and their stupid Sky People … They don’t recognize a god when he walks among them!”
“Wait,” Layla said. “What? Uncle Magnum’s a god?”
Fanny rolled her eyes. “Magnum is as close to a god as anyone who walks this Earth is going to get. Closer than the bunch of you, that’s for sure.”
“Well, duh,” Layla said. “We’re not gods.” She snorted. “Obviously.”
Fanny threw up both hands, including the one with the gun.
Her index finger remained alarmingly close to the trigger.
“That’s what I keep telling everyone! Just because you can do some things Magnum can’t doesn’t make you any better than he is.
He’s … he’s humanity’s salvation. All he ever tries to do is help humans.
Help, help, help. He gives, gives, gives, and gives some more.
And you selfish bastards defy him at every turn.
You’re selfish spoiled brats, and one of these times we get to kill you, you’re going to stay dead. ”
It wasn’t part of our act when the five of us took a big step backward. Hunt grabbed Bobo by the collar and shuffled him back with us. Bobo didn’t so much as pause in his snarls, his fierce stare pinned on the crazy lady in Birks with socks.
Layla made a show of looking at the rest of us. “Uh, guys … do you have any clue what the fuck she’s talking about? I’m so lost.”
“That’s ’cause you’re the biggest idiots this Earth has ever seen,” Fanny shouted. “Your powers are wasted on you. Magnum should have all of them.”
Her eyes glittered with avarice. Or maybe that was insanity. How had we ever believed she might be an ally, however brief that hope had lasted?
“I don’t know what she’s talking ’bout,” Brady snapped, “but I do hear her saying, loud and clear, that she wants us all dead. So, Fanny, get the fuck away from all of us. Right the hell now.”
Fanny stared at us for a good ten seconds before laughing.
The five of us, and Hunt still pulling Bobo, took another big step back. There wasn’t much retreat left before we hit bushes at our backs, and a puddle of my upchucked chicken salad behind them.
Finally, Fanny said, “You all really are dim-witted, aren’t you?”
“Hey,” Layla protested. “Watch it.”
“Or what?” Fanny gave a little twisted smile that made a shudder run through me and—fina-fucking-lly—brought the gun to her side.
I breathed a little easier.
Without turning to look at them, Fanny barked at the soldiers, “All of you. In the cars with the doors shut and windows up. Now.”
Without so much as a squeak of protest, the goons obeyed. When the last door pulled closed, Fanny turned to verify their compliance. With a flaring swirl of her skirt, she studied us.
“Maybe I’ve been going about this wrong,” she said.
“Oh? What makes you say so?” Layla said, slathering on snark thick as goopy icing.
“Ha, ha. You always think you’re so funny.”
“Actually, not really. I’m just confused. I thought you liked us. But you just said you want us dead, and we can’t seem to leave town, so yeah, I’m actually freaking the fuck out. I’d really like it if you’d just let us go.”
“I’m not letting you go anywhere.”
“Then take us to Uncle Magnum,” Hunt said, releasing his grip on Bobo’s collar.
Fanny’s smile shifted to adoration. The hard glint in her eyes softened to dreamy. “I can see why you’d believe he’ll help you. He’s incredibly magnanimous. And that’s why I’m not going to kill you today.”
“Gee, thanks a bunch,” Layla said, with more of that snark icing dripping from her words.
“Watch your mouth, young lady, or I’ll watch it for you.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“Because you don’t know much. And part of that’s not your fault. Much of it is, but your lack of understanding isn’t entirely thanks to your mind-boggling inability to see the bigger picture.”
Layla said into our bond.
Griffin said.
Fanny changed tack yet again. Her smile transformed. Had I not known we were dealing with a crazy lady, I would have believed it was genuine. Apparently our lie-rents weren’t the only one who could win Oscars around here.
She crossed her arms, the hand with the gun hanging loose.
Griffin warned us.
We so were. What I wouldn’t do to get a little advantage around here …
Fanny’s gaze bounced around each of us, her smile growing wider. When she pointed that smile at Bobo, his growling quieted to a wary whine before silencing.
“Great,” she said. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
My true friends and I didn’t utter a word. If she believed she could wave a gun at us and tell us she wanted us dead, and then waltz in talking all buddy-buddy, she was nuttier than a rabid squirrel.