Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Abi
My mouth went desert dry.
This close to the monster I could see the way light bounced off its exoskeleton, and hear the unnerving creaks the many joints of its six legs made as it stalked me.
For one torturous second, I couldn’t breathe. I just stared, slack jawed.
Just as I could finally move again, I heard a bright whistle before the steely blur of Beckett’s sword zipped past me.
He’d flung the weapon, hitting the monster in the thorax—the long segment of its body that attached its head to its abdomen. The blade crushed through the creature’s exoskeleton with enough force to get half buried in the mantasp.
Fear lighting a fire deep within me, my flight or fight instincts kicked in. And possibly the first time in my life, my body chose fight over its typical choice of ‘get sick and/or faint’.
Screaming, I grabbed the pommel of Beckett’s sword and pushed with all my strength, shoving the blade deeper.
The mantasp released a garbled, eerie noise, then collapsed, its legs twitching.
I scurried backwards so I’d be out of the way of its flailing, my heart pounding so loudly in my ears I barely heard Beckett when he called my name.
“Abi. Abi!”
“Yes! I’m fine,” I said, jumping in surprise when Beckett put his hands on my shoulders—I hadn’t heard or seen him approach.
“It didn’t get you?” He squatted down next to me, inspecting me from the feet up, scanning for any injuries.
“Nope, you were on it before it could even strike.” We stood up, and I brushed off my knees with shaking hands. “Impressive throwing skills, by the way. I didn’t know it was physically possible to do that with a sword.”
“It was the fastest way to kill it before it could harm you.” Beckett nudged me to rotate so he could inspect my backside.
(Not my actual physical traits, unfortunately.
He was definitely still looking for any injuries I hadn’t noticed in my surge of adrenaline.) “Although I was rather impressed with the way you finished it off.”
I snorted. “Finish it off? I did nothing of the sort. It was already dead but standing from your strike.”
“You had the wisdom to push the sword in farther,” Beckett said. “It’s commendable, considering I imagine you don’t have much battle experience?”
“This is my first encounter, yes, unless you count the time Bradly Moore stole my graphing calculator in my advanced algebra class, and I was forced to pull some of his hair out so he’d give it back.”
“It was your first and last battle encounter,” Beckett said decisively.
“I would like that.” I shivered despite the hot summer air and intense sunshine.
A back door of Beckett’s SUV opened, and Bobby popped out! “Hurrah! You got rid of the threat! I’m ready to be eaten as an official thank you bribe!” He crossed his arms over his chest and shut his eyes.
Beckett frowned at Bobby, his eyes intense enough to cut through steel. “You.” He stalked towards the oblivious gnome. “If you knew about the threat you should have said why you were dumped off on my doorstep earlier!” He picked the gnome up by the collar of his blue tunic.
Bobby limply hung in the air, relaxed even though Beckett had elevated him so they were nearly eye to eye. “But you never asked,” Bobby said.
“Why would I ask about a threat I didn’t know about?” Beckett said, his voice withering.
“Ohh. True. My bad. You can drink from me twice to make up for it,” Bobby wheedled.
Beckett dropped him in a heap. “I’d sooner die of thirst. No, you and your little family will be in charge of cleaning up and disposing of the mantasps. Now get back in the car.”
“Yes sir!” Bobby hopped to his feet and saluted him, then made his way back to the car.
Beckett watched him, his eyes narrowed to slits.
“I don’t think he meant to spring this on you,” I said.
“I agree. He really is simply that much of an idiot,” Beckett agreed. “However…”
“The mantasps?”
“Yes.”
“Taking them out in such a timely manner will prove to the gnomes you really are the powers that be in the area?” I guessed.
Beckett rubbed the back of his neck and looked grim.
I watched him and chewed on the inside of my cheek. We were definitely friends, and Beckett hadn’t attempted to maneuver me as needed. Societal customs meant that was a green light for me to casually touch him too… right?
If I was being honest, I was hesitating simply because he was so good looking. It felt wrong to touch him with my human-ness.
But maybe that was all the more reason why I should do it.
Before I could second guess my decision, I patted Beckett on the back.
His expression relaxed. “Is that sympathy?”
“Yes. I can only imagine how hard it is to be an incredibly rich, classically good looking vampire who happens to be the most powerful supernatural in the area,” I said.
“You’re pretty crap at sympathy.”
“Yeah, It’s not my strong suit.”
Beckett flashed me another grin that—though brief—was bright enough to have powered my previous company’s server room for a week, then casually set his hand on my lower back and nudged me towards the car.
“Thanks, Beckett,” I said. “For killing the mantasps despite the consequences of bringing politics into your life.”
Beckett nodded, then glancing at the car where Bobby waited for us, leaned in so his breath tickled my ear. “I would have taken care of the mantasps regardless. I would have just waited for a time when I knew no supernaturals would witness it.”
I wasn’t sure what made my heart gooey soft—the sound of his gravelly voice so close to me, or the knowledge that he’d just shared a secret with me.
Beckett is by no means soft, but he is generous in more ways than his employees’ salaries.
Feeling pleased, I hopped in the car.
Beckett tossed his sword in the trunk, then slowly walked around to the front seat.
Bobby, already buckled into his seat in the back bench seat, gave me two thumbs up. “An excellent use of feminine wiles!” He suggestively wriggled his eyebrows.
Thinking of my mushroom brown, wild hair, and being self-aware enough to know that I was not the most socially charming individual, I stared at the young gnome. “I don’t have feminine wiles.”
“Oh, ho, ho, ho! Sure you don’t!” Bobby chuckled to himself. “Say, do you happen to like any gnome-made crafts or arts?”
Beckett, thankfully, opened the car door before I was forced to reply, silencing Bobby.
And thus my first supernatural fight ended, and I wasn’t quite sure what to think of the whole experience.
I suspiciously peered at the waves of Lake Michigan—which were white and cresting even though it was a bright and sunny day with only a little wind.
“Are you sure this lake is safe?” I asked.
Beckett, settled on a cushioned chair positioned under a pool umbrella, flicked his sunglasses low so he could settle his gaze on me.
“There are no magical influences on this part of the shore if that’s what you’re asking.
There are a few magical creatures, but they’re small and harmless, so there is nothing that can harm you.
I have this place covered with defensive spells that get updated on a yearly basis. ”
“That’s right, you did say that.” I set my Algoma guidebook on the table and planted my hands on my hips.
I’d rubbed in with the highest SPF suntan lotion I could find—I had a very fashionable blue smear on my nose to testify to that—and had donned my swimming suit and was armed with a foam kickboard Shannon was lending me for my first official dip in the lake.
This was another one of my ‘local activities’ on my list, but this time I’d prepared for it by asking Shannon and Jonas for advice—hence me wearing my recent purchase of water shoes.
They’d said I’d need to protect my feet from the pebbly beach as apparently Lake Michigan had very strong currents so I needed to be able to stand. Beckett’s section of Lake Michigan shore, however, was as sandy as a Florida beach.
“You know, you really do live the life of a European aristocrat,” I said.
Beckett cocked his head. “What makes you say that?”
“Who else has the money to afford the upkeep of a second property that you own just to have a section of lake frontage?”
I turned to peer up the hill, where Beckett’s ‘modest’ lake house was settled.
In reality the log cabin styled home was bigger than the house I’d grown up in, and was outfitted just as gorgeously as his inland mansion.
Beckett checked his cellphone. “If a vampire gets to be my age and is still broke, they are either cursed, mad in the head, or insipidly stupid and should go to live with a pack of gnomes as punishment.”
“Harsh words.” I turned back to the shore, and spotted a couple seagulls sitting in the sand, watching us.
Inspired by childhood memories, I trotted towards the seagulls, figuring they would scatter.
They screeched at me in a combination of a shriek and a weirdly throaty hiss.
I was a little concerned about the noise, but I was almost on them.
Instead of flying away like I expected, each seagull abruptly flopped over—legs up, and beaks open.
I screamed at the sudden widespread death, then yelped again when I realized they weren’t regular seagulls, but instead they had pink hairless tails and fluffy gray pelts like North American possums.
“Don’t mind them. They’re in the trash griffin family,” Beckett said.
“They’re what?” I asked.
“They’re small griffins who live in the fae realm and have a penchant for obnoxious stupidity,” Beckett explained.
“This kind is a mix of seagull and possum, but the most common type is a pigeon-raccoon griffin. They love large human cities where it’s easy to scavenge for food, so they cross over from the fae realm more frequently.
The seagull-possum types favor the Great Lakes area and the coasts, but you usually only see them when there is a strong fae presence in the area, too. ”
“So what are these guys doing here?” I asked, watching one of the seagull-possum griffins stick its tongue out in an effort to really sell its ‘play dead’ acting.