Huntress (6 page)

She nodded and led the way back in, seating herself in my favorite chair. Irritated by her choice, I flopped down onto the couch and took a giant bite out of my sandwich. Melted cheese filled my mouth with creamy goodness. There is little better than a great grilled cheese sandwich.

“Continue,” I ordered. Except, it didn’t sound at all like “continue” since my mouth was full. It came out more like an mmphoo.

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to talk with your mouth full?” she griped.

I cocked an eyebrow at her that said, “Really?”

“Good point.” She settled further down into my over-large, overstuffed reading chair, curling her feet beneath her in a comfortable position before she continued.

“Like I said, there are different planes of existence. Thousands of years ago, instead of exploring space, my people decided to figure out how to explore those different planes. It seemed more adventurous somehow.”

She continued on telling me of how in Alancea, people were long lived, very autocratic and filled with magic, unlike the people of my Earth. Because of their long lives, they created things that helped make those years more entertaining and bearable.  She gave me a mental picture of Alancea that was filled with wonders and miracles.

Her father had helped pioneer this exploration program but they discovered that when they explored new worlds, while they could bring back different technology and vast amounts of new knowledge, the more they created Rifts, the more often their world would experience small natural disasters. 

Not every world experienced this type of instability but theirs was unfortunately prone. After a particularly nasty incident in  which they lost over a million people because of an unstable Rift, they realized that some kind of Organization was needed in  order to prevent not only unauthorized travels to their world, but to also monitor travel between the other planes of existence.  They never realized that inter-dimensional travel would cause so much devastation.

Diana and a group of others were called upon to be the Guardians of our plane. They were chosen carefully from their world - the Program leaders were looking for balance, strength, courage and wisdom. Beyond the powers that they already possessed, they gained immortality and the nearly impossible duty of guarding our world.

Earth’s natural barriers were not as resistant and because of its vast land masses and variable climate, it was an attractive destination for Interdimensionals (a term used to describe beings from other dimensions). 

My meal was long forgotten as I sat transfixed by the story that unfolded before me. I was so engrossed that the sudden vibrating and music coming from my pocked made me jump and yelp in surprise.

I didn’t have to look at the number to know who it was. Only one person got this ringtone. Drawing defenses and a semblance of composure around myself, I answered without a hello.

“What do you want?” I asked tersely.

Oh God, the urge to hang up was so strong. I hated his stupid voice and face and everything that went with it.

“My lawyer called letting me know that he’d received the finalized decree from your Lawyer. I just wanted to thank you for being expedient about this Grace. Really, this was Ace of you.”

“Yes, as happy as I am to impress you with my maturity, could you get to the point? I have a guest.” I didn’t continue because he didn’t need to know the details.

“You’re dating already? Wow that was fast.”

I sighed. “No Brandon, I’m not dating. If I were, it’s not your business anyway. What do you want? I’m busy.”

“Well,” he started sounding slightly nervous. “Clarissa and I were talking and we think that Dylan should stay with us for a while.  Since I have joint custody, I think that it’s important for me to be a ‘hands on’ Dad and she thinks that he could use some stability while you deal with being single.”

Rage. It was the only word to describe the extreme emotions boiling within me. My bottle of orange juice began rattling on the table next to me and I glared at it, willing it to stop.

Diana suddenly focused on me, her stare intent. She started to rise from her chair but I leveled a murderous glance at her and she sat back against the cushions, putting her hands up in a defensive pose.

More things were vibrating around me and I could hear Brandon say, “Do you feel that? Oh my God, do you think we’re having an earthquake?”

I closed my eyes and prayed for serenity. “I can assure you Brandon that I am not ‘dealing’ with being single. I’ve been single for years. The agreement was that Dylan would live with me and spend vacations and some weekends with you. Just because your new Barbie girlfriend wants to be a Mommy doesn’t mean that she gets to practice on my kid.”

The noise is what caught my attention. It sounded like a semi-truck was rumbling next to my window, so of course I walked over to the window while I listened to the bastard prattle on about how I needed to be nice about Clarissa and it wasn’t fair to deny him rights to my son.

The pebbles on the walkway around the patio were dancing around like Mexican Jumping Beans. My eyebrows rose in surprise. As far as I knew, there had never been an earthquake in the Springs.

Staying calm so my voice did not betray my rising panic or rage I said, “Brandon, I don’t care what you would like to have happen.  We’ve gone through the details in court. If you want to change them, you know how to get in touch with my lawyer.”

“Grace, don’t be like that. You know that was all just a formality.”

“No, it wasn’t. You have his number. Talk to him about formalities.” Closing my eyes I took a deep breath and remembered that I had a very expensive lawyer who could deal with this. I didn’t have to anymore.

“I can get rid of him honey. You’d be amazed at what a small bolt of electricity will do to the human heart,” Diana whispered to me.

“Shut up.” I mouthed and gave her an angry look before continuing. “Please tell Clarissa that I appreciate her anxiousness to please you and be all house-wifey, but we’re good here. You get Dylan next weekend. They’re expecting you to pick him up from school.”

“Grace, this isn’t a request.” He paused and my fingers tightened around my phone. I noticed that the plastic was becoming hot to the touch. It must need a new battery, I thought. 

“Grace?” I lost it. I blew my stack. I was going to tell him exactly what a piece of ever living crap he was and that there was no way in hell that he was ever raising my son with the psychotic Barbie that he had chosen with his dick.

Diana’s hand grabbed my wrist and she looked pointedly to my phone. It was glowing red and the plastic covering was starting to melt. I hadn’t noticed that the signal was breaking up, I had been so angry.

“We had an agreement, Brandon. If you don’t like it, you can have your lawyer talk to mine. I need to go.” I hit the end button and threw my phone across the room. The shock of seeing it bury itself in the drywall caused me to start hyperventilating.

Diana thrust a paper bag in front of my face and ordered me to breathe. I eyed her warily as I breathed slowly into the bag.  Pulling the bag away so I could speak, I caught her glare and promptly shoved it back against my mouth and nose.

“I can take care of this for you. I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that you have too much on your plate and you just don’t know how to deal with this.” She paused and rested her hands on my shoulders, squeezing gently.

“But, I can take care of this for you,” she repeated. “You think that you won’t have time for what I need from you and Brandon is causing a distraction, that jackass.” She scowled ferociously after she said that. Maybe siccing her on Brandon wasn’t such a bad idea after-all. “I think that you should probably know that you can’t go back to what you were now. It’s too late. Already your power is coming back. You have to get training. If you don’t control it, you could cause devastation. You could even hurt Dylan with your temper.”

“I would NEVER hurt my son!” The protests were laced with doubt though. The melted plastic of my phone was enough to make me shiver.

“Will you let me help you?”

I didn’t want to think. I just wanted to hide in my bed for a few years. I wished that life hadn’t led me here. “I can’t possibly think of what you could do.” I bit my lip and felt ashamed at how small my voice sounded. I had signed those papers, swearing that he wouldn’t be able to affect me like this ever again.

“First thing I can do is give you this advice. You don’t ever give your power away Grace.” She pulled me into a quick hug and then looked into my eyes and smiled. “And, as for Brandon and his threats, I’ll take care of that. Will you work with me?”

“I can’t believe that I’m buying into this, but yeah,” I nodded. “I’ll do anything to keep my son.”

“Good girl. I’ll send Drew over in a few days. He’ll help you get ready for training. We don’t have a lot of time. I feel like things are going to get pretty bad pretty quick. He’ll help you take care of the house, the kid and the surges of magic that are about to start happening.” She smiled. “Plus, he’s pretty to look at.”

“Why aren’t you going to help me with that?” I asked, confused.

She laughed and smiled. “I have a world to save and your training to prepare for.” She patted my arm and blinked out after telling me that she’d be in touch.

I didn’t know how she was going to fix things. Brandon was tenacious. He didn’t want me, but he couldn’t leave me alone.  Years of emotional neglect, but after I’d given up and finally begun to move on, he decided he needed to be up in my business.  There were so many times when I secretly wished that he’d knock Clarissa up so he wouldn’t bother with us anymore.  I just wasn’t that lucky.  When all was said and done, I didn’t know if I could believe in Diana - but now was as good a time to start having a little faith.

Two days had passed since I'd given Diana my promise.  I hadn't heard from her, but I also hadn't received any more calls from Brandon.  Maybe she was helpful after all.

Being a creature of routine has its uses. Instead of obsessing over what might happen, you can fall into the normal hubbub of everyday life and pretend that everything is normal. Dylan still needed to go to school and the book still needed to be finished. I was good to go shrouded in my veil of denial.

After shuffling him off to school the second morning, I resumed the staring competition that I had with the red wall behind my desk.   Like a hundred little eyes, the Post-its that covered the wall stared back - unblinking and mocking.   The words were right there in front of me.  This book was in the bag, so why wouldn’t my fingers work? 

I’m pretty sure that I would have won the contest this time but my concentration was interrupted by the ringing of my office phone. “To answer, or not answer - that is the question.”  It rang three more times before my hand hit the speaker button.

“Hello?”

“Grace, have you seen the news? Can you believe that there was an earthquake in Colorado Springs? Did you feel it? But more importantly, are you close to finishing the book, dear?”

I scowled.  Marisol always called me “dear” like she was my Grandmother’s age instead of only a few years older.  She was a ball of energy - ruthless charm and wisdom rolled into a tiny 5’2” package.

Normally, she would be on the list of people to call when there was a crisis. However, I was no closer to finishing this book now than I was the last time she’d called. She must have had some keen sixth sense because rather than letting me alone, she was badgering me. This was the fourth time she’d called in the last thirty-six hours. It
was
the first time I’d picked up, though.  Silly of me to think that not answering my phone was a successful dodge.

“Really? There was an earthquake? I didn’t feel it.”

“I see,” she paused. “I figured that the only reason you wouldn’t answer my calls is if you were buried under a pile of rubble, dying of thirst.”

There was a reason Marisol was my agent. She was ruthless in negotiations and she could see past my bullshit to make sure that the book got done.  If left to my own devices, I’d be a starving artist instead of a comfortable one.

“Can we pretend that I’ve been buried under rubble and call it good?”

“Will that make you finish this damned book?”

I could picture her flipping her long dark hair off of her shoulder and leaning into the speaker of her phone, staring me down with those steely brown eyes.

“Yes?”

“Good! You’re already two weeks late on the deadline and I’ve had to do a few circus-worthy tricks to get the publishers to extend the deadline by a few more.  They went ahead and set a publish date before talking to me first.”

Oh, yeah, she was annoyed. She earned her fifteen percent and then some by running interference, managing the three rings and oft- times playing mom to her writers. It royally pissed her off when the publishers threw an unexpected wrench into her machinations.

“I’m so close. Nearly everything is done. I just need to throw the two together, get them naked and it’s done.”

“So what’s the hold up?  Don’t tell me it’s because you don’t believe in love anymore. God, you artists are going to be the death of me. Wait, never mind. I don’t care what the holdup is. Just finish the book Grace. Put your fingers on the keyboard and type.  You could face roll this thing and still sell half a million copies.”