Wuthering Frights (Dulcie O'Neil)

  "We didn't see you," Quill said as he stepped out of the car and came up behind me. Horatio appeared out of the darkness, standing beside Baron. I checked my watch and noticed it was five minutes from show time.

  As soon as I brought my eyes back up to face Baron, I heard what sounded like paper tearing, only much louder. It resounded in the air, somewhere off to my right. I felt like I was in slow motion as I turned and saw four men, dressed in grey and black uniforms, suddenly materializing from thin air. It was as if the sky had just spat them out. Clutched in their hands were firearms—some long-barreled, like rifles, and others small and short, like my Op 6. Obviously, they'd just come through a portal. But as to who they were, I had no clue. As soon as they got their bearings, they faced us and I recognized their Netherworld uniforms.

  They began to fan out, forming an arc in front of what I assumed was the same portal they'd just come through.

  "Who the hell are you?" Baron spat out.

  "Security," the man nearest me answered, with a frown aimed at Baron before settling his gaze on me.

  "And who sent you?" Baron continued, visibly affronted that whoever it was obviously didn't trust us enough to handle things on our own. Yep, must have been good ol' Dad.

  "The Head of the Netherworld," the same man responded. My heart sped up as I realized what this meant for the ANC. I'd already told Caressa it would just be Baron, Horatio, and Quill to contend with. I could only hope she'd decided to beef up the ANC numbers, like I'd suggested when we spoke, or this could have a very bad outcome.

  "When's the delivery?" the uniformed guard that spoke to us earlier piped up.

  I glanced at my watch and realized the Draoidheil was due to hit any second. So where the hell was the ANC? I got the sinking feeling that maybe Caressa had failed to remember all the destination points or maybe she simply hadn't believed me?

  A few seconds later, there was another sound of the air ripping apart and the night sky suddenly produced two women. They fell against the asphalt, although one quickly regained her senses and assisted the other, who seemed completely out of it, with a panic-stricken expression. They were dressed in outdated, empire-waisted gowns, the hems of which touched the ground. Their sleeves were also long, so long that they obscured their fingers. Their hair was gossamer and delicate—cascading down to their elbows and giving them an ethereal look. Not exactly like angels, but more like the girls from Little House on the Prairie. I had to assume they were Dryads.

  Both Dryads stared at their surroundings as if trying to understand where they were, both becoming anxious when they saw the guards in uniform, along with Quill, Baron and then Horatio. When they spotted me, they instantly made a beeline in my direction, only to cower behind me. I imagined they weren't comfortable around men, seeing as how they'd come from a convent and all. I could hear soft whimpering and when I turned around, I realized the situation wasn't getting any better. The one with dark hair was leaning against the blond, her breathing shallow and coming in spurts. Both of them looked petrified, their eyes wide. They clung to one another, obviously in terror.

  "Is she okay?" I asked the blond, then turned to face her friend whose eyes were clamped tightly shut, her face pale, and sweat beading on her forehead.

  The blond looked at me and shook her head. When she opened her mouth, words didn't come out, but sounds did. Sounds that I can only compare to the voice of Charlie Brown's teacher. So the Dryads were unable to communicate? Fantastic.

  I couldn't concentrate on the Dryads much longer because what sounded like thunder crashed into my ears and I turned to see another man come forth from nowhere, accompanied by the same sound of ripping paper. He wasn't dressed in the garb of the guards, but he was one of my father's, all the same. He stretched his arms forward and then his torso, half of him disappearing back into the portal. When he managed to pull himself out again, he was holding a large, plastic crate.

  The crate was maybe three feet wide and two feet tall, with over one hundred vials of Draoidheil inside it. As soon as the crate made contact with the air on this side of the portal, one small vial flew up into the air, as if carried by invisible hands. Then the particles inside of it began swirling around, like the vortex of a tornado. The particles sped faster and faster until the cork seal flew off the top and the Draoidheil exploded into a mass of what looked like glitter. The sea breeze suddenly picked up the particles, scattering and lifting them even higher, and sprinkling them all around us.

  Meanwhile, the man holding the crate passed it off to Quill as he leaned into the portal for the next one. I watched Quill take the crate and head for the Mercedes. He loaded it into the trunk and then jogged back to us again. The man pulled out the second crate and handed it to me. It only weighed about fifteen pounds, so wasn't a big deal. I carried it to the Mercedes, and slid it in next to the other one. When I stood up, I watched as the man in charge of delivering the crates handed another off to Baron. As soon as Baron touched it, the crate suddenly exploded in a mass of glass and Draoidheil. With a throaty scream, Baron dropped the crate, destroying the remaining vials. Before any of us could respond, the crate suddenly ignited in an array of orange and yellow flames. Both the Dryads began shrieking as they ran from the commotion, cringing in the hollows beneath the trees on the hillside next to the docks.

  Obviously, the ANC had arrived to run interference. I slammed the trunk of the Mercedes and pulled my Op 6 from around my waist, holding it in low ready. Of course, I had no intentions of harming anyone on the ANC side, but I wanted to make sure I was armed and able to protect myself if and when I needed to. Anyone on the ANC side would naturally assume I was working with the bad guys.

  With a swift look around me, I jogged away from the Mercedes, and away from the spotlights of streetlamps until I reached the line of shadows offered by the hillside trees. As soon as I touched the grass, an enormous blast issued from the direction I'd just come. With a gasp, I craned my neck toward the Mercedes and watched it jump a few feet in the air, suddenly exploding into a fireball of shrapnel and flames. I threw my arms over my head and fell forward, my face hitting the grass as I sought cover. When I sat up, the blond Dryad was sobbing. The other one lay still on the grass.

  I didn't have the opportunity to inquire after her condition because chaos immediately enveloped us. The Regulators from the ANC must have made their move when the Mercedes exploded because they were now in hand-to-hand combat with Melchior's men. The cacophony of screaming, fists pounding flesh and gunfire filled my ears. I scurried to the top of the hill, taking shelter behind the crest of it. With my Op 6 in my hands, I searched for any sign of Quill, to make sure he was okay. I didn’t know what I’d do if he wasn't. Could I shoot one of my own people if it meant saving Quill's life? I knew the answer to that was yes, especially given the fact that I didn't recognize anyone on the ANC side. But I wouldn't shoot to kill. I would shoot to debilitate only because I couldn't allow Quill to die. Not on my watch.

  My plan was to retreat back into the shadows offered by the trees on the hilltop. Once I could hightail it across the street, I would to take cover in the lushness of overgrown bushes and pepper trees alongside the road. With the help of some of my fairy dust, I could shrink myself down to a mere sprite. Then I’d hide out in the branches of the pepper trees and wait until everyone cleared the scene. My life as a renegade had already begun because I obviously wasn't working for my father now. But it wasn't like I could just pick up the pieces and return to my previous life.

  From my perspective, the ANC outnumbered Melchior's men and were increasingly gaining the advantage. Horatio and two of the guards had been apprehended, and all three were cuffed and under the surveillance of two ANC men. I could also make out the bodies of two other guards on the ground, obviously dead. As I continued to watch, another crate of Draoidheil, which was sitting beside one of the deceased guards, suddenly erupted in flames when what looked like a Molotov cocktail made contact with it. The ANC had employed a witch or some ot
her kind of creature that was capable of sophisticated magic, because blowing the Draoidheil to Kingdom Come was no easy feat.

  When the smoke dissipated, I could make out Quill’s figure, also in cuffs and sitting beside Horatio. He was searching for me, his eyes scanning the horizon. When his gaze met mine, I could see the shock in their amber depths. It felt like minutes ticked by, but it was really only seconds that we stared at one another. And in his expression, it was obvious he knew that I'd ratted everyone out. Instead of throwing daggers and tightly fierce lips, he smiled at me. It was a proud smile —although I didn't understand why. Apparently, Quill was proud of what I'd done.

  I didn't have the opportunity to further consider it as two ANC Regulators suddenly appeared at the base of the hill, each lifting a Dryad in his arms. I ducked down so I wouldn't be seen and when I looked again, they'd already disappeared through a portal, on their way to the forest where the Dryads dwelled.

  It was time for me to make my move. Reholstering my Op 6, I crawled down the embankment and once I knew I was out of sight, stood up and turned around. I was about to dart across the street and take shelter behind the scraggily bushes beside the road when I found myself face-to-face with an enraged Baron.

  We glared at one another for maybe three seconds as I'm sure the weight of my actions registered with him. His eyes narrowed as he growled and came for me, running full bore and plowing into me. He knocked me off my feet but when I fell, I didn't feel the bite of asphalt beneath me. Instead, it felt like I'd merely landed on an air pillow. I glanced down, shocked to find myself on the asphalt. Feeling a buzzing around my wrist, I pulled my sleeve up to find Sam's Viking Bracelet vibrating. So it had managed to protect me from harm. I couldn't help my smile but it was short lived as Baron, apparently realizing I was wearing an enchanted bracelet, lurched for it and ripped it off my wrist in a split second. He threw it on the ground and stomped on it, the chain weave collapsing beneath his immense weight. The beautiful stone broke in half as did my hopes of escaping Baron. Realizing he now had the upper hand, he grasped me around the neck and lifted me into the air, my feet lashing out as I gripped his forearms, digging my nails into his skin as I struggled to breathe. He released me while I was still in the air and I fell onto my back, the breath completely expelled from my lungs. I hit the ground hard and had to blink back the stars from my vision.

  "You little back-stabbing bitch!" he railed as he slammed his enormous fist into my face. I felt my head snap back in response and bit my cheek hard. Suddenly feeling dizzy, I tried to force my eyes open, already feeling the blood trailing from my mouth down to my neck. I shook my palm until a mound of fairy dust appeared, but before I could throw it at him, he slammed my wrist against the ground, and the magical dust disappeared between my fingers. I forced my bleary vision on Baron's face and caught his ugly smile immediately.

  "Yer not gittin' away from me this time," he said, reaching for my sweatshirt, he ripped it off me and then went for my T-shirt, shredding it in two. The tattered pieces fell on either side of me, revealing the daggers strapped to my upper arms. Baron shook his head but the smile on his mouth hinted to his elation as he pulled the daggers from their makeshift straps. He flung one down the hillside and held the other one at the base of my neck, the sharp point slightly piercing my skin.

  "I could end you right now," he breathed and I gulped as the point pressed harder, cutting into me.

  I felt my chest began to rise and fall as my heart rate increased. I was in full panic mode, and worse, Baron knew it. He lowered the blade and placed it between my breasts, his eyes suddenly feasting on the cleavage offered by my push-up bra.

  Reaching for my gun, Baron quickly grabbed my wrist, pinning it to the ground painfully. Then, realizing he needed to have at least one free hand to molest me, he replaced his hands with his knees, thrusting his lower body directly into my face. This new position appeared to amuse him because he chuckled heartily. Holding the dagger above my right eye, he suddenly tossed it aside. It landed nearby, within twenty feet, but I had little interest in it. Instead, my immediate concern was Baron, who reached down to unzip his fly. I thrashed against him, kicking out and trying to nail him with my legs, but I was unsuccessful.

  Before I could think of another strategy, he pulled himself free of his pants. I slammed my eyes shut tightly, trying to avoid what I imagined would be a hideous and traumatizing sight. Then, realizing his intentions, I clamped my jaws shut, telling myself not to open my mouth for anything, not even air, knowing what it might mean if I did.

  "Open your mouth and take it," Baron demanded, slapping me across the face when I refused. I bucked beneath him and felt tears starting in my eyes, leaking down each side of my face.

  "You filthy son of a bitch!" It was Knight's voice. I opened my eyes and watched Knight ram his Op 7 at the back of Baron's head. I brought my eyes to Knight's as I wondered if he would shoot. Before I could comprehend what was happening, Knight squeezed the trigger. I shut my eyes as the sound of gunfire assaulted my eardrums. Screaming out in shock, I opened my eyes, focusing on Baron's face as it came nearer to mine, complete with a bloody hole in the center of his forehead. His enormous body slumped on top of me, twitching in death. I tried to push him away from me, but Titans are an enormously heavy race, and Baron was no exception. A second or so later, Knight rolled Baron off me and offered me his hand.

  I took it, not even knowing what to say as I realized he'd just killed Baron in cold blood. It was against ANC protocol one hundred percent. But when I looked into Knight's eyes, they were glowing eerily. It was the same glow they revealed whenever another man was near me, whenever another man hungered after me sexually. And then I understood. Knight realized I'd just come incredibly close to being raped and in his rage, he hadn't been able to stop himself from pulling the trigger.

  "Knight," I started, as questions suddenly raced through my mind. What was he doing here? Had he been here all along?

  I felt him yank me to my feet only to turn me around so my back was to him. Then he pushed me up against a nearby tree, and the bark scratched roughly against my cheek. He grabbed my arms, securing them behind my back as confusion clouded my mind.

  "Dulcie O'Neil, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law."

  "Knight," I repeated, completely unaware of what was happening. I was being arrested? For what? I was the one who'd ratted out the bad guys and in the process, stopped a potentially devastating situation from happening ...

  "You have the right to speak with an attorney. If you can't afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand your rights as I have recited them to you?"

  "Why are you doing this?" I demanded angrily when he pulled me away from the tree. I searched his face, looking directly into his eyes as I tried to understand.

  His face was livid and his lips were sealed tight. "Do you understand your rights as I have recited them to you?" he said again, his tone one of indifference and apathy.

  Seventeen

  "How long have you been working for your father?" Knight demanded finally, after not speaking to me for at least ten minutes. He'd placed me into the passenger seat of a black Yukon Denali, my arms still cuffed behind my back so I had to lean forward slightly to obtain any semblance of comfort.

  The only thing he'd admitted to me thus far was that I was being arrested for my involvement with the illegal potions trade; and specifically, for participating in the aid and distribution of the Draoidheil. Apparently the ANC had been able to salvage one crate of the stuff which was being transported with us in the Denali. The other ANC officials had taken Quill, Horatio and the surviving guards to Hades only knew where. Knight hadn't admitted that much to me yet.

  At the mention of Melchior, I felt my heart drop, even though it was pretty obvious that Knight already knew about the relationship between my father and me. Even so, I still couldn't help the shock that wa
rred through me. “You know?" I asked in a hollow tone as I looked at him, and felt my stomach sour.

  He refused to look at me, keeping his attention focused on the road as he left the loading docks and headed for the freeway. "Of course," he spat back. "I've always known." He said it like I was stupid for even asking, like he was so accomplished as an ANC detective, by all rights, he would know.

  "I ... Why didn't you ever mention it? If you knew he was my father, why didn't you ever tell me?"

  He looked at me then and laughed, but there was no levity in the sound. He shook his head like I just didn't get it, like the joke was on me. "I never mentioned it because you obviously already knew and, furthermore, it would have given too much away."

  I closed my eyes, wondering if this whole thing was a dream. Maybe it was merely a fabrication from my muddled mind, arising from the fact that Baron had hit me too hard. But even after blinking several times, when I opened my eyes, I found that Knight was still driving and I was still sitting beside him. I glanced down at myself, realizing I was dressed in only my bra and yoga pants. With my hands firmly locked behind my back, my arms went numb, and when I tried to move them, they stung like pins and needles. "I don't understand," I said simply, wishing the headache behind my eyes would fade away. "You would have given too much of what away?"