Huntress (5 page)

“Have you finished with your temper?” That melodious voice was
not
a welcome intrusion into my thoughts.

I kept my eyes closed and asked in a plaintive voice, “How did you get into my house?”

She just laughed at me. Popping one eye open, I watched her double over in her laughter and hated her just a little more. She was back in her Middle Aged Woman costume, lounging in my reading chair like she belonged there.

“Really?” she asked, biting her lip, obviously trying to prevent further mirth from spilling out. “How do you think I got into your house? I walked in.  That reminds me, I need to teach you how to set proper wards. There is just so much to teach you. I feel like I’ve left a lot of this too late, but we make do with what we have. Forward movement only, I like to say.”

“Oh there is just not enough booze in this world…” Leaning back into the cushions again, I imagined a world where I had nothing better to worry about than drinking Mai Tai’s served by an exotic Adonis on a sandy beach.

“Okay,” I started. “Let’s take a moment and assume that not only did I believe you - but actually had the time in my hectic life to take on yet another role-.” My hand came up to cut her off as her mouth opened to interrupt. “Assuming that I have the time, what does this entire business require of me? And, then if I were to agree, would it mean that you would stop popping into my quiet ‘pull my crap together’ time? Because that would be super.”

She at least had the good grace to look chagrined at that last comment.  Good.  If I couldn't logic her out of my life, maybe guilt would work.  I looked up at the clock like it would tell me when I had last eaten. My stomach was starting to growl.

“I need to make something to eat or I’m going to start getting irritable. You can explain this to me while I cook.”

Her lips pursed in a disapproving moue. “I wasn’t kidding when I talked about a diet-“

I cut her off before she could get started.

“Worst.  Day.  Ever.  I deserve to eat whatever the hell I want.”   I rose from the couch and brushed past her on my way into the kitchen.  She followed me as I pulled a block of Colby out of the crisper and grabbed a knife.  I pointed it at a bar stool along the edge of the breakfast bar.  "Seriously, sit.  Talk."

I started slicing thin wedges of cheese and she started talking.

“Occasionally, beings from other dimensions create Rifts and pop into this one. Through the centuries, your race has encountered them in one form or another. You’ve heard stories of Vampires, Werewolves, Demons and even Medusa.”

“Well, these are all creatures that have made their way into your world for one reason or another. Some are escapees.
 
Others simply find it more comfortable - even downright charming.”

She continued, weaving a story of inter-dimensional travel that seemed fantastical and unbelievable.  I should have stopped her, but the girl who had read The Hobbit nineteen times wanted to believe her.

There was a reason that I’d briefly feared she was an alien out to probe me in our first encounter.  Possibilities exist everywhere in this Universe and it would be a boring place without a little bit of “freak.”

I added slivers of ham to the cheese and threw the sandwich into the Panini machine before turning around and folding my arms across my chest.

“So, why me? And why now?”

She seemed caught off guard by my question. I imagine that she was expecting me to argue with her and had the next phase of her “Make Grace Believe” plan in the wings.

“You believe me?” she asked hesitantly.

“I’m not going to commit to that yet. But it’s either hear you out or have you continue interrupting my life and unraveling my sanity. I’m a firm believer in making that not happen, Diana.”

Did that comment offend her? She suddenly looked like she was going to cry and it made me want to reach out and comfort. I didn’t.  Instead I started cleaning my cutting board, ignoring the chance to get closer.

It was another lesson learned early. If you don’t let people in, they don’t have the opportunity to hurt you.  There were people in my life right now that didn’t give me a choice.  They clung like little monkeys to me, refusing to let me shake them loose.  If I was going to have an honest moment with myself, I’d have to admit that the only person I let in willingly was Dylan.  Since he was made up of my genetics, I figured he didn’t count as someone who could book when the going got tough.

There was a piece of me that felt guilty for passing up the opportunity to get closer with this woman who claimed to be my only family.  My stomach tightened when I realized that one day, Dylan may be making the same decision and I shoved that thought into the back of my head to analyze later.

“Giving you away wasn’t easy Grace. Is that what you need to hear me say? You want to know that if I had another choice I would take it back? I wouldn’t take it back. This is how this story had to play out.”

“Whatever,” was my short reply. “Get on with it.”

“You may have noticed a lot of unstable activity around the world lately. Tornadoes, tsunamis and earthquakes are hitting more frequently and this is
not
what should be happening. Earth, despite the Human Race’s mistreatment, has a more stable core than this. We think that it’s because of an old power struggle rearing its ugly head again. Remember when I said that Zachary sunk Atlantis? Well this is just a continuation. Because you are my daughter, it’s not safe anymore for you to pretend to be something else. You need to get ready in case you are attacked or there is a battle. I don’t want to lose you and Dylan because you’re unprotected and an unwilling pawn.

The knife that I’d begun to wipe off slipped and sliced open my fingertip. I gasped at the pain and brought the wound up to my mouth. She reached over the counter and gripped my wrist tightly.

"Let me fix that," she said under her breath, and I felt heat wash over my skin.  I watched, transfixed, as the slice closed - squeezing out a few extra drops of blood.

I forced myself not to gag.  Blood always made me queasy, especially my own. When I’d been pregnant with Dylan, I’d actually asked them to sedate me before doing my blood work. They thought I’d been kidding. I wasn’t. I just have a weak stomach in general.

Mothers who wanted to make sure that their kids were changed regularly didn’t ask me to babysit unless it was an emergency. Don’t ask how I’d gotten through Dylan’s infancy. 

Wiping the blood off of my finger with a paper towel, she smiled and muttered, “Ninny” before walking over to my gas stove and setting the thing to fire.

“What the-!” She cut me off with a direct stare.

“You need to start being more careful with your blood. In the wrong hands, it could be very painful for you. By painful I mean, you dying painfully. Pain.” That last word came with a pointed stare.

“Pain, got it. I’ve been on my own for all of these years and I simply cannot understand why it’s so important now.”

“You’ve always had guardians around you Grace. Even when you thought you were the most alone. There is no way I’d give you up without at least keeping an eye on you. You may have felt them throughout the years.”

“How would I feel them?”

She smiled fondly before answering. “You kids are attracted to each other like little magnets. Whether it’s loyal friendship, soul shattering love or deep hatred, your blood sings to each other. It’s a side effect of our genetics. Part of you doesn’t belong on this world, so you are attracted to others who share your affliction.”

“Yes, that explains it so well,” I quipped sarcastically.

“Don’t be a smart ass.” I could see her determination and something that made me shiver. There was a hardness in Diana’s eyes that made me want to turn away.  Returning her gaze was the bravest thing I’d done in a long time.  You can chalk that bravery up to being contrary if you want, but the woman’s stare scared the shit out of me.

“It’s why you all make such good Hunters. You can feel the other-worldliness of the ones that don’t belong here.”

Well that was just creepy.

“So why don’t you go after this guy that’s causing the problem? I mean for the love of God, I’ve read my mythology. You’re Diana, the Huntress. Aren’t you supposed to be the ‘Ultimate?’?” I gave her bunny ear quotes when I said the word ultimate.

She raised an eyebrow at me and shot back, “Does your army exist on corporals alone?”

She had a good point. Every army needed a General.

“That doesn’t answer the question of why you didn’t go after him.” I felt the weight of my question bear down on me in the coldness of her eyes.

“I cannot travel to other realities and we are afraid that he is using the different planes to cause problems. Once I took this responsibility, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to leave your plane.”

“Wait a minute,” I frowned. “If what you say is true and I’m the first full blooded Alancean born in blah blah years, how do you expect me to do something that you cannot?”

She smiled as if she had me. “That’s just it. We don’t know why. You were able to do things in your infancy that none of us could explain. It’s also why we think your father was trying so hard to take you.  If you can travel the Rifts with all of your power, there is little that could stop you if you had the knowledge.”

There were so many questions and I just didn’t feel like there was enough time to get them all answered. Itchy anticipation crawled over my skin. Something was changing. 

It was like the change of seasons. You could smell Fall on the air. You knew when the first Spring shower was coming because the air felt different - gentle, warm and charged with promise.  This felt like that. I wasn’t sure that I liked it.

"So," I began casually, "you want me to go after this guy?"  I didn't want her to know that she was hooking me, and if I was being perfectly honest with myself I'd have to admit that I was a little afraid.  There were no obvious signs of great power within me.  Hell, I couldn’t even put together a new bookshelf in my office without ending up sweaty and perplexed.

Long pauses make me uncomfortable.  Over the years I've learned to count to twenty so I don't start blabbering to fill in the silence, but that trick doesn't always work.  To stall further, I scrubbed harder at a stain that would never come out of my cutting board - the damned thing had already been clean for 15 minutes.

As I forced myself to stop and look at her again, I could see the indecision in her eyes.  Whatever she wasn't telling me was making me uneasy.  She sat back in her chair and began fiddling with her frayed cuffs.

Her mouth opened as if she was going to begin, but then immediately shut it.

I raised my eyebrow at her expectantly and she smirked at me in return.

“Be patient! I’m trying to think of the best way to put this.”

“Which means that it’s bad.”

“No, it doesn’t mean that it’s bad.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head at me in exasperation. “It means that I’m not sure how to word it and still make sense.”

“So, it’s bad.”

“You are extraordinarily annoying at times Grace. I obviously mis-named you.” Rising from her stool, she moved around the end of the breakfast bar to stand in front of me. With both of her hands on my biceps, she looked me in the eye and said, “I don’t expect you to stop anyone, but I have been told that you would be an integral part of resolving this matter.”

When a woman of superior strength has a solid grip on your body, you aren’t going anywhere. How would I know this? Yeah, I tried because the urge to run screaming was so strong.

“What do you mean you have been told? You-you keep saying that you don’t think I’m ready. Why haven’t I been ready and what makes you think that I’d be ready now?”

Her smile was beauteous.  For a fraction of a second, I saw her true form shine through her disguise.  I decided that she scared me even more when she smiled.

“Look at you! You’ve been searching for who you are your entire life. Finally, not only have you shucked off the baggage that was holding you back, but you’ve passed every test that life has thrown you. Here you are, independent and free. You took a really long time to learn the lesson that it doesn’t matter what others believe of you. It’s whether you find yourself worthy enough to be treated well and with respect. Are you going to be a victim for the rest of your life Grace? I think not. You can choose to pursue that role, but I’d really like to see you shine, baby.”

    “Yeah you must not have been paying attention very well. I can’t say I’ve actually passed that last test. I just do the best I can to get by.”

“Oh for the love of… get over yourself.”  She threw her hands in the air. “You’re here aren’t you? You have a home, a beautiful child, a successful career. You’ve made it. Does it hurt? Sure it does. Do you still have fear and doubts? Of course you do. You think that this life you’ve lead was hard? You should have seen what I’ve had to go through.” She gave me a very pointed look. “There are things that you just have to decide to get past Grace. Remember that. Your sandwich is about to burn.”

Startled out of my shock, I turned around and flipped up the lid on the Panini maker. She was right, it was right at the edge between browned and burned.

Sliding the sandwich onto a paper plate and grabbing a bottle of orange juice, I nodded back to the family room. “We can continue back in there. It’s more comfy.”