Hidden monster ruins, p.12
Hidden Monster Ruins, page 12
He pointed to the top end of the line. “You didn’t. More like space bent back on itself.”
That made me frown. “You mean magic spun us around?”
He shook his head. “This is more than magic. Dimensional warps, while rare, do happen.”
“Is this warp what kept Finny prisoner too?”
“Possibly. Most likely some kind of ‘stay put’ command was keyed into the stone cursing the sphinx.” A sphinx watching with one eye as Baptiste leaned over Kyana to look at something she showed him.
“When I broke the stone, I broke the curse keeping it prisoner.”
“In more ways than one, yes.”
“Is there a way to find out how long it was down there?”
Clive rolled his shoulders. “Maybe. Huego brought a sample of the stone that once encased it, and I’m having it analyzed.”
He had? I’d not even thought to grab any, even when we passed by the rubble.
“I thought sphinxes were only ever seen in the Middle East.” I offered the extent of my knowledge.
“That we know of,” Clive replied. “This discovery, along with the ruins, might change that.”
Nelly neared us. “Unfair. You’re now up to two pets.”
“More for Auntie Nelly to spoil.”
That brought a grin to her lips. “And no accidents to clean up.”
The mention reminded me… How did a sphinx go to the bathroom? Did I need an oversized litter box? Food bowl? Water? Collar? Did it need shots?
Maybe I should have thought this through a bit more.
“Why create a tunnel that goes nowhere?” Clive murmured.
“Not just that one. When we were down there, I noticed two other tunnels that Huego claimed dead-ended. They were working on accessing a fourth.”
“What about the sinkhole where the Pures’ pastor’s house used to be?” Clive very diplomatically didn’t mention the incubator used to live there.
I shrugged. “We’d have to ask Huego or Renarde.”
“Or someone with the CHS.” Nelly had a better idea. “I know what hotel they’re staying at, and it’s got an attached bar.”
“Now you’re thinking. Shall we go buy some historians some beers?” Clive asked.
I wanted to go with them so badly, but I couldn’t just dump Finny on Wally and run. Then there was the fact crowded places and I didn’t get along.
I bowed out. “Not me. I’ve had a big day already.”
“Are you sure?” Nelly pouted.
“Very sure. Try to not get in trouble,” I admonished.
Nelly smirked. “We both know I’m better in a tight bind.” She then glanced at Clive. “We should go separately, so we’re more likely to get hit on.”
Clive didn’t quite frown and nodded quickly.
The two of them kept dancing around their attraction. I wasn’t quite sure why. Then I thought of me and Baptiste, and I totally got it.
“You two have fun. I’m going to take Finny home to meet Wally.”
The moment I walked in the door Wally let me know what he thought.
“Ack, murderer! Stay back, feline, or I will peck your eyes out!”
Yikes. As first meetings went, that wasn’t the best starter. I entered, hands outstretched, and cooing, “It’s okay, buddy. Finny ain’t going to hurt you.”
“My name is Aziza.” The soft lilting claim didn’t come from me.
I blinked. Wally didn’t, but we both went still before I pivoted to look at the sphinx.
“Did Finny just speak?”
“She did.” The sphinx spoke with a bit of a burr and emphasized her sex. “And as I said, my name is not Finny but Aziza.”
“You can talk.” I shook my head. “Is this some kind of magic?”
“Most assuredly not, alsahyr.”
I frowned. “What’s that mean?”
“Alsahyr is a title for one like you. It translates to wizard killer.”
“I don’t kill wizards,” I huffed.
The slinky sphinx prowled farther into the apartment, taking in the space as she replied, “But you do take their magic. Strip them of their power. Their essence. Their strength. Take everything that they are.”
I pursed my lips. “It’s only temporary. The magic comes back.” I muttered a much lower, “Most of the time.”
There was a reason I always wore gloves and wrist-length sleeves even in warm weather. People got pissed when they brushed against me and suddenly, poof, no magic. If lucky, it started trickling back as soon as they got some distance from me. A few never recovered from my touch and, to this day, wanted me dead for what they claimed I’d stolen.
It didn’t matter how many times I explained I took nothing. They blamed their loss on me as if I intentionally set out to cause them harm. I didn’t, in case that wasn’t clear. The three who never got it back? They’d placed their hands on me when they should have respected my bubble.
I cocked my head at Aziza. “Why did you wait until now to let me know you could talk?”
The feline managed to shrug. “Curiosity as to my new mistress.” Her gaze slanted in my direction as she purred, “You’re not what I would have expected. I imagine your commands will be interesting. I am ready to do your bidding, Mistress.”
The way she spoke rocked me on my heels. “Whoa. I am not your anything.”
“You insisted on keeping me.”
“I rescued you,” was my quick correction. “They would have tried to hide you in a lab for testing or trapped you in one of their nature reserves. I thought you deserved better.” I finished with a roll of my shoulders.
“Compassion from a mistress? Fascinating,” the sphinx murmured, her tone and demeanor freaking me out.
Wally, too, since he said nothing, but he watched her like a hawk, his feathers flat to his head, his eyes narrowed. His claws gripped his perch, ready to launch him.
“It’s called doing the right thing.”
“In exchange for a boon,” Aziza added.
“No boon. No nothing. You don’t owe me anything. You’re free to do what you like. And while you’re figuring that out, you’re welcome to stay here. I have the space.”
“This isn’t Egypt,” she remarked, having made her way to the windows and looking out.
“It’s America. Are you from Egypt?”
“I had a home, a lovely den in the ruins of a pharaoh’s temple long forgotten outside Luxor, Egypt.”
“You could travel to see if it’s still there. Now that you’re free, I can help you get across the ocean.”
The sphinx somehow managed a moue of distaste. “That is too much water. Besides, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Aziza sprang to sit on a stool. If she tried to walk on the counter, should I chastise? After all, I liked my food prep area not trod upon.
She had manners enough to stay sitting and tucked on the chair, still the size of a jungle cat, but so dainty.
I had to ask. “How did you shrink? Before, you were like the size of a horse, and now…” I waved my hand in her direction.
“How do you remove magic?”
“I don’t know.”
“Because some things you can just do. Not everything has an explanation.” A wise reply.
“How are you so smart?” I blurted out.
“Why would you automatically assume I’m dumb?”
“I didn’t assume—”
“You did,” she interrupted.
“Only because most animals can’t have conversations,” I huffed.
“Your caladrius speaks,” Aziza pointed out.
“Wally’s special. As are you. You seem very intelligent.”
“As if you can judge.” Aziza snorted.
It led to Wally chortling—at my expense. “Give sugar tits here a chance, pussycat. She’s dumb about a lot of shit but means well.”
I shot a glare at Wally.
He blew me beaked kisses.
How could I stay mad? Especially since he’d just cahoot-ed with Aziza. Look at that, they were bonding—over dissing me.
Aziza addressed him and spoke of me as if I weren’t there. “I am aware of some of Mistress’s shortcomings, but I think they’re manageable. All things considered, I believe she’ll make a suitable mistress as long as you can confirm she’s not responsible for the damage to your plumage.”
“I would never hurt Wally!” I exclaimed.
“I didn’t figure you had,” was Aziza’s dry reply. “You did, after all, almost get cut in half trying to save me.”
Wally uttered a noise. “Told you. Dumb. I’m still working on her. Right, sugar tits?”
I gave him a finger. Glared at my new pet who wasn’t a pet and inwardly chortled at the bonding going on. My first cat. I wondered if she’d be okay with letting me pet her sometimes.
As Wally explained to Aziza the feeding schedule, and how he got the remote since he had seniority, I wandered to the kitchen and thought about dinner. Then what about after?
An exciting night of which show? A glance at the television had me chewing my lower lip. I’d gotten used to having company that wasn’t just my bird, who meant well, but a lot of his conversation tended to veer to the dirty.
Nelly and Clive planned to hit the hotel bar and see if they could glean any info from the CHS folks staying there. I could join them and help. After all, I’d met a few today in that sinkhole. None had flinched from me. A good sign, especially considering they knew my ability. Or so I assumed.
It would be nice to go out for a change. Usually, we hung out here on the rooftop or in each other’s apartments.
I just needed permission first. I cleared my throat. “Hey, guys, seeing as how you two are already such good friends, you won’t mind me popping out for a few hours this evening, right?”
Wally did a waddle in place. “Depends. What’s for dinner?”
“I think your worm garden is ready.” A claim that had him hooting.
Aziza understandably wrinkled her fine feline nose. “I’ll pass on the worms.”
“I could grab you some kibble from the store.”
She recoiled. “What foulness is that? I take back what I said about you being a good mistress.”
“Would you prefer raw meat?”
“Would you?” she sassed back. “Why can’t I have what you eat?”
I beamed in delight. “That I can do. I have tons of food.” Anxiety from my youth led to me overstocking the moment I had any extra money. “There are leftovers in the fridge. Pizza, some Chinese, even some sandwich-making stuff. Tell me what you want and I’ll nuke it for you.”
“I know how to use appliances,” she scorned.
I lifted my hands. “No offense meant. Wasn’t sure how the paws would work the buttons.”
“I assume you’ll keep asking questions until I show you.” She leaped from the stool to the kitchen floor. Her tail whipped around to yank the handle on the fridge door. Then she snared a leftover carton of noodles with that same dexterous limb. She used a paw to press the big button on the microwave, popping it open to place the container inside. The tip of her tail then punched in numbers and Start.
I almost clapped. Her prehensile tail reminded me for some weird reason of satyrs and their dicks. Independent movement. Part of the reason why they kept getting the girls despite being verbal pigs.
Aziza’s ease in using appliances struck me as odd. “How long were you stuck in that cave?” I’d assumed hundreds of years.
“According to the calendar I peeked at while you were yapping to your coworkers, somewhere around three months.”
“Only three months?”
“Didn’t feel like only,” she snapped back.
Even Wally whistled. “Dumb.”
“Sorry. I just assumed you’d been there much longer. A guardian left behind, lost and forgotten until we found you.”
“Hardly.” Aziza snorted. She’d returned to her perch on the stool, with me across from her behind the counter. “One minute I was living my best life, the next, bam, trapped in stone.”
“What happened?”
“I touched something I shouldn’t have,” she groused.
“That’s kind of vague.”
I’d have sworn she glared. “Fine, if you must know, I have no idea. I was drunk at the time. Partying with some friends. We went into the forbidden section of the pharaoh’s temple. We wanted to check out the rumor it was haunted. I woke in that stupid tunnel.” She pouted. Impressive given her feline jaw.
“You don’t remember what you saw in that excavation?”
She shook her head. “It’s a blur.”
It only occurred to me then. “Do you know if you have the hex?” The one that infected a good many monsters and cryptids was magic based, as in remove it even for a second—say with my touch—and boom, they exploded like an overripe tomato. Not recommended. We’d seen less of that happening once we destroyed the Pure Church. The pastor and his disciples seemingly the ones placing the curse.
“I would never mar my flesh.” She tossed her feline head, and a bit of dust shook loose.
I coughed. “You need a bath.”
“I thought you’d never offer.” She sauntered from me into the bathroom and shut the door. Apparently, she required no help because the water turned on. Sphinxes were nothing like I’d have expected. Or was she an exception? She certainly was impressive.
The microwave beeped.
“Hand it over, sugar tits.”
“But Aziza—”
“Was proving a point. Now gimme.”
I turned to Wally with the steaming container. “You sure you’re okay hanging with Aziza?”
“Pussycat and I will be just fine.”
“Not if you keep calling her that.”
“Then she can suck my—”
“Don’t you dare say it,” I interrupted sternly.
Wally cackled.
I sighed.
And then sighed again, as I had to wait two hours to take my own shower so I could get ready to go out. My new roommate took her sweet time before she emerged, draped in a towel.
I jumped in the shower next. After, I dressed in jeans and a cute top, blow dried my hair, and even threw on some mascara.
As I rejoined Wally and Aziza, I noticed something interesting. Aziza lay on the couch, watching television with Wally. Her dust-gray fur was now a deep auburn in a shade slightly lighter than mine. Another redhead in the house. Was that the equivalent of crossing a few black cats? Guess I’d find out how my luck was tonight.
As I left my apartment, I called out to my roommates, “Be good while I go and seduce a historian into telling me his secrets.”
Trust Wally to yodel, “Not with those granny panties you ain’t.”
CHAPTER 15
The hotel was a few blocks from the sinkhole I’d visited. Big enough to handle a few hundred people with a convention center, restaurant, coffee shop, and bar attached.
I could hear the music from outside, booming hard. The thump almost got my hips to shiver and shake. It should be noted I’d never clubbed. The fear of touching the wrong person kept me from those venues. But this was a bar. Bars had stools and tables and usually empty dance floors except for the truly drunk later at night. I could totally do this.
The door opened and offered a peek inside. A glimpse of many people clustered together.
I froze on the sidewalk, gloved fingers clenching and unclenching, knowing my flesh was covered everywhere but my face. Didn’t matter. I couldn’t go in there. Too crowded. Too dangerous. Too…
…much.
Not for the first time, my anxiety turned me away from something I wanted to do. If only I had a way to turn off my ability so I didn’t have to be afraid all the time. It would be nice not to panic in crowds.
I tucked my sweater tight and headed for the coffee shop next door for a hot cocoa with marshmallows. I could console myself sugar while I waited for a taxi to swing by and pick me up. I’d expected to have some drinks and hadn’t driven over. I should have known better. I don’t know why I thought this time would be different.
A bell chimed as I entered the store. Inside, a long counter about boob height offered a display window beneath showcasing treats. Across from it, against the wall, were several bistro tables with only the farthest one occupied, the person sitting with their back to me.
“Welcome to Frothy Licks and Sips. What can I get you?” a handsome guy asked with a wink.
“Hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Plus whatever that is.” I pointed to something in the display case that might finally kill me with sugar.
“Nine oh four,” he quoted, ringing it up.
I tapped my card and waited for my order while staring out the shop window. It took a moment to register someone was speaking to me.
“I’m sorry?”
“I said, are you here with the historians?” It was the barista asking.
“No. I live here.”
“Never seen you before,” he remarked, serving me the treat first, a tart with a caramel-looking filling topped with toasted coconut and some kind of drizzle. He slid it toward me on a cardboard plate.
I snared it, replying, “I’m not usually in this part of town.” I’d always avoided the more crowded downtown areas when possible, which made my decision to come tonight even more ironic.
“What brings you slumming?” he said with a grin that showed off slightly crooked teeth. It took a second to realize he was flirting with me.
“I, um, heard you had great cocoa?” It was lame. Like me.
“The best.” He winked as he slid the mug over but didn’t let go. I reached for it, my gloved hand not quite touching his but getting close. He frowned.
He retreated, pulling his hand to his chest as if stung. He rolled the ring on his index finger with the dull stone before he glanced at the mirror on the wall behind and gasped.
Uh-oh.
His tone held more than as hint of accusation as he turned to me and huffed, “What did you do?”
“Nothing.” Not technically a lie. I’d not touched him. I grabbed the cocoa.
“My ring charm is dead. You stole its magic,” he accused.
“I didn’t take anything.” Technically true. I had no idea where the magic went when I made it disappear, but it sure made me hungry. I just wanted to eat my treat and drink my cocoa.
