Read Tempest’s Legacy Online

Authors: Nicole Peeler

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #General

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BOOK: Tempest’s Legacy
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And there was a lot of blood.

Blood was everywhere: on the walls, on the ceilings. Newer-looking blood, older blood, and lots of… other substances. The place stank to high heaven, a horrifying combination of fear, sweat, blood, excrement, and death.

Ryu put a protective hand on the small of my back, and I didn’t resent his touch. I took a series of short, shallow breaths through my mouth, concentrating on not getting sick.

Suddenly, a tremendous groaning sound echoed through the space. Anyan, Ryu, and I backed up hastily
toward the safety of the doorframe. The clear plastic cells all shuddered as one, straining at whatever anchored them before they ripped off the floor. The panes of plastic hovered, rotating slowly onto their sides, then stacked themselves up midair.

A dark-skinned figure, lovely and elegant, strode into the center of the room. Power, Alfar power, swirled about us, and I felt confused.

I also felt horrified that this must be Capitola. The woman was
beautiful
. She was long and lean, with a catwalk model’s body. Her face was carved from jet-black ebony; an artist’s rendering of the perfect female. She was a queen, a Nefertiti, and I knew the barghest must be in love with her.
I
was a little bit in love with her.

Julian and I exchanged wide-eyed looks, wondering at this woman and her magic. Her dark braids slithering around her shoulders, she calmly stacked the panes of Perspex against a side wall.

“C’mon, Moo-Cow! Let’s get rolling! That took you ten whole seconds!”

Out of the shadows from the other side of the lab came a short, voluptuous woman. Her long brown hair bobbed in a ponytail, and her succubus juju was prominent and powerful. Unfortunately, she, too, was beautiful, in a polar-opposite way from the other woman in the center of the room. The newcomer’s lush shape promised naughty evenings and naughtier afternoons, her beautiful almond eyes framed by thick liquid eyeliner and even thicker black lashes. She was like Aladdin’s Jasmine, only chubbier and sexier. And definitely not G-rated.

The smaller woman saw us standing in the doorway and she waved. “Hey, Anyan!” she called, before turning
toward the back of the radically refurbished clinic. “Capitola!” she hollered. “Anyan is here!”

“Why must you be so loud all the time, Shar?” the tall woman asked, her voice Alfar-calm.

“’Cause somebody has to put a fire in your belly, Moo-Cow,” the shorter woman said, giving her friend a vicious grin before turning to us. “Excuse Moo-Cow,” she said to me. “She lacks social skills.”

I blinked at the woman who seemed to be named Shar, unable to believe that the statuesque beauty beside her was called “Moo-Cow.” I was also very pleased to find out that neither of these two luscious ladies was Capitola. Hopefully this Capitola was ungainly, maybe wart-ridden, perhaps walleyed or hunchbacked…

Or she was the goddess striding forward out of the darkness.

Seriously? She was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. And she was everything, and I mean
everything
, I wanted to be. Exuding strength and capability, no one would ever take this woman anything but seriously.

She looked to be of mixed race. Unlike my own pale pallor, her skin was a perfect, healthy café au lait. And instead of my weak softness, she was all hard athleticism… with curves. Basically, she looked like the heroine on the cover of one of those urban fantasy novels. She was terrifying
and
sexy, with six-pack abs
and
Victoria’s Secret model boobs, bulging biceps,
and
a big juicy ass.

I hated her, and I wanted to be her, and I knew I could never compete, in anything, ever, with the perfection that was Capitola.

At least she has a stupid name
, I tried to comfort myself.

As if in response, she ran a hand through the kinky chestnut Afro that stuck out proud and gorgeous around her perfectly sensual features, her green eyes shining, and the name “Capitola” sang in my heart.

She made it beautiful.

Dammit.

“Uncle Anyan!” she called, smiling a huge, brilliant smile.

Uncle?
I thought, even as I felt myself growing smaller and shabbier with every step she took toward us.

“Hey, Cappie,” he said, beaming with affection and pride as he strode forward to give her a hug. I realized, then, just how tall Capitola was. She must have been a good six feet tall, and she and the barghest fit together perfectly.

I only fit with oompa-loompas
, I thought sadly. Even Ryu had forgotten he was currently trying to win me back, his gaze going from beautiful woman to beautiful woman—excluding me—as if he couldn’t decide which Baskin-Robbins flavor to choose from.

To be honest, I couldn’t blame him. All three women were seriously hot.

Only Julian appeared unfazed by the attractiveness of the ladies. If anything, he was looking at them with a face full of… hope? He was standing there, peering at the women like a nerdy little kid watching the cool clique from afar.

He wants to play
, I thought,
but not
play,
like Ryu
.

I filed that thought away, fully intending to have that long talk with Julian about what sort of life he’d lived, growing up halfling in the Territory. His reactions to everything in the Borderlands so far suggested to me it was going to be a fairly bleak tale.

It must be something to go from viewing halflings as
tolerated to seeing them so free here. Not to mention wicked strong
, I thought as I felt another blast of power, and all the gurneys that had littered the cells suddenly crunched together to make a massive, twisted ball of steel. The Moo-Cow woman floated the ball of steel to rest next to the Perspex, and suddenly the middle part of the room was nearly empty.

Her friend Shar snorted and rolled her eyes. “How are we supposed to get that out of here now? It needs to fit in a
Dumpster
, Moo.”

Moo’s dark eyes flashed again, but her voice was still calm when she spoke. “I can make it fit into a Dumpster. And still leave room for a fat succubus-halfling,” she added, causing Shar to do a double take.

The two started arguing, and Capitola shook her head.

“Sorry about them,” she said, acknowledging Ryu with a wary nod. “Ryu Baoban Sith,” she intoned, before turning toward Julian.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, brother.” Capitola grinned, all wariness gone, as she clasped both of Julian’s hands in hers. “Welcome to the Borderlands. We hope you feel at home here. You are among friends.” Her words were richly laced with portent, her large green eyes locked on Julian’s, whose gaze flicked uncomfortably between Ryu and Capitola.

“And you must be Jane,” she said, turning to give me a warm smile as she let go of Julian’s hands to extend her own to me. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry it had to be under such circumstances. Please accept our condolences.” She shook my hand, her grip firm but gentle, and I hated myself for ever having criticized her. I started to thank her, when there was a roar from behind us.

The short woman had the tall woman in a headlock. Capitola sighed.

“Goddammit, quit it! What the hell is wrong with you two?” She strode off to referee the wrestling match as Anyan chuckled.

“So that’s Capitola?” I asked the barghest rhetorically.

“Yup. Everyone calls her Cap or Cappie, though. You should ask her about her name. You’ll like the story; it involves books.” Anyan nodded toward the other two women whom Capitola was physically separating.

“The other two are Emuishere, or Moo; and Shar. As you probably felt, Emuishere is an Alfar-halfling. Her father set himself up as an Egyptian deity and forced her to serve as his daughter-consort.” I made a face and Anyan nodded. “Yeah, they did things differently back then. The other is Shar. She’s half succubus. And all trouble.”

I smiled, liking all three already. Julian cleared his throat.

“So they really are halflings?” he asked. Anyan nodded.

“And everyone here in the Borderlands is halfling?” Julian continued when he saw Anyan nod.

“No, there are purebloods aplenty. Here in Borealis there are quite a few who followed halfling or human partners away from critical parties in the Territory. But they’re all registered. That’s what I was doing when I called Carl as soon as we landed. There’s a lot of infighting in the Borderlands, but one thing everyone agrees with is that they want to keep Alfar intervention nonexistent. So they pool resources.”

“Resources?” I asked.

“There are a slew of halflings like Peter Jakes out here, only far, far more powerful. They’re called Sensors, and
they monitor power, even unused power, reporting any unregistered power signatures they come across. If we hadn’t reported to Carl, who cleared our presence, we would have been greeted by quite the welcome wagon.”

“I take it they’d be bearing less-friendly gifts than muffin baskets?” I quipped.

The barghest’s lips twitched. “Far less friendly than muffins, yes.”

“But that would mean—” Julian started to say, just as Capitola finally separated her two friends and they all three came forward. I registered Julian’s protest, knowing he was probably about to raise the same questions I had. But right now we had to meet the rest of Tryptich… now that they weren’t trying to kill each other, that is.

Even the Alfar-halfling looked contrite, and both women mumbled their apologies for their behavior and for my loss. After we’d been introduced and exchanged pleasantries, Capitola shooed the other two to continue their cleaning before turning back toward us.

“Ready to talk?” she asked me.

I thought about that for a second. On the one hand, I felt almost mesmerized by the sight of the laboratory and all its gore before me. But another part of me felt unmoved. I didn’t associate this terrible place with my mother, even though I knew it was where she died. I felt anger at knowing that last fact, but it was still a strangely disjointed feeling, like I wasn’t really making any emotional connection to the place. So I stood and stared at where my mother had spent her final moments, and part of me still felt… nothing.

When Capitola interrupted my reverie by giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze, I nodded, and she led the way to the doors.

Peering over my shoulder, I took a last look at the now cavernous lab space. A fierce sense of satisfaction washed through me as Moo let rip with another blast of Alfar power. This time all the various instruments of torture, in their medical disguises, were collected into another compact ball of twisted metal and plastic. It felt right to me that these three women would expunge all signs that this evil place had ever existed.

Julian stayed in the main room to help the women clean up, a strangely vexed expression blanketing his normally sedate features, as the rest of us returned to the relatively clean reception area. Anyan, Ryu, Capitola, and I pulled four chairs together and sat down. After a moment in which we all shuffled about trying to get comfortable, Cappie turned toward me.

“First of all, Jane, is there anything you want to ask me about what was… found? Here in the lab?”

She meant did I want to know how my mother had died. But I’d seen the blood, and I’d seen the instruments. I knew for what purposes this place had been built. The questions one normally asked when a loved one died suddenly—“Did he feel any pain?”; “Did she suffer?”—were moot.

“No. I don’t think that’s necessary. But thank you.”

“Okay. If you change your mind, I can talk whenever,” Cap replied, and she meant it. I realized that behind that strong body lay a very warm heart.

“Our people have already done a thorough investigation of the premises,” she said, moving on. “We were brought in to clean, but don’t worry, we won’t be destroying any evidence.”

“That’s great,” Ryu said, giving Capitola his most
winning smile. “We really appreciate all your help. I hope you’re getting something for all of your hard work.”

Cap laughed. “Thanks, Ryu. But we’re still not telling you who’s signing our paychecks, so you can stop right now.”

Ryu frowned even as Capitola breezed along. “Speaking of who we work for, TPTB want to see you tonight, Anyan. And they want to meet Jane and Julian.”

The barghest nodded, and Ryu’s frown grew deeper. The Powers That Be must not trust Ryu, which made sense. Anyan was obviously Capitola’s friend, even though he
was
technically working for the Alfar, and she obviously trusted him not to share everything he saw with the Alfar. I was a little surprised at their including Julian, but from what I was seeing, there was obviously a lot of Halfling Power going on in the Borderlands. But as for Ryu, there wasn’t anything “technical” about his loyalties—he was definitely his monarchs’ man. For the first time I realized how odd this whole situation was, and questioned why the hell the baobhan sith was even here. I hadn’t thought about how weird it was till now, as it had seemed natural he’d be with us: When things went kablooey in my life, Ryu was always around. But Anyan and Ryu didn’t like each other, and Ryu was clearly the odd man out here in the Borderlands.

So why
was
he here?

I stored that question away for when we were alone and focused back on Cap.

“We’ve found two other abandoned labs in the area. Both have evidence of body disposal in the vicinity, but neither had the sort of wholesale slaughter that went down in this one. One seems to have been abandoned quite
awhile ago, the other more recently. We’re finished with the one; we’re still working on the other, gathering evidence. But you’re more than welcome to go check them out tomorrow. I’ll text you the addresses, Anyan.

BOOK: Tempest’s Legacy
4.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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