Just One Bite Volume 4 Read online

  She was paranoid, of course. Trixie was perfectly safe. After a pretty effective potty pep talk, Trixie decided to go back to her seat. On the return trip she would really pay attention to where the latecomers were sitting. Unlocking the stall, it was as if she was in a Synchronized Toilet Olympic event when every single stall opened as well. Silver dressed women from the late group stepped out. The automatic flushes engaged in one sonic boom.

  Trixie stopped and looked from one lady to another. They so closely resembled each other, it was like they were all twins. To add to their oddness, the ladies left their dark glasses in place, as if they were still viewing the movie. While Trixie went to the sink to wash her hands, the ladies didn’t move.

  “Great movie.” She tried to break the ice while she counted the strange ladies. Eight. They didn’t respond. “You guys like to get your money’s worth out of those 3-D glasses.”

  Awkwardness rushed into the room like that white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland. “Alrighty then. See you in there.”

  Trixie put her hands under the Excel-O-Rator hand dryer and briefly wondered if they recycled jet engines to make these bad larrys. The super powered dryer was in the process of blowing the skin right off her hand when it cut out, smoking. As usual, electronics and Trixie ended in disaster. She hurried out of the bathroom and headed back into the movie. She hated the thought of not supporting Sterling, even though he would never know she watched. As far as she knew, every customer counted with the box office ratings. She couldn’t walk out on his 3-D debut. His sad resignation bothered her. She looked over her shoulder to hold the door for the person behind her, and the droid ladies were in a perfect, straight, line waiting.

  Trixie had wanted to note the remaining silver-clothed people, but with the army of drone peers behind her, she just found her seat and sank into it.

  If these freaks kept being scary, she wasn’t sure how much longer she would be able to hold out and watch her favorite guy in popping hologram form. Trixie slipped the glasses on and tried to concentrate.

  Sterling reached for her again, his hand so close to the end of her nose. “The power to do good is in you, Trixie.”

  “Holy crap.” She held her heart. Surely she had misheard her crush saying her name.

  “Trixie. You’re the Source. It’s you. Touch me.” Sterling held out his pristine glove and wiggled his fingers.

  “I’m losing my mind. The sugar in this giant soda has melted my brain.” Trixie looked around to see if anyone else was surprised that she was having a conversation with the screen. The silver people were just a seat away now, completely surrounding her. She had not seen any of them move.

  The sound system reverberated with his plea, “Touch me now!”

  All the silver people eerily turned their heads at once, at the exact same time. Fear grabbed Trixie’s throat.

  Trixie reached out a hand and squeezed. The unsettling feeling of sliding out of her own skin was breathtaking. If she hadn’t been steadied in his arms, she would’ve fallen.

  “Are you okay?” He brushed the hair away from her face like he did to all of his beautiful damsels in distress.

  “I’ve no idea. Am I in your movie?” Trixie had no good place to put her hands. Well, she had a great idea where to put her hands but it would totally crank this movie from a PG rating to an NC-17 in a hot minute.

  “Trixie, we have no time. The Ragests have finally figured out the Source. They were in the dark for the longest time, until they realized that years ago I had trapped us all in a movie. When they produced this film in 3-D, the Ragests knew that they could escape and get into your world.” He pulled her closer and whispered in her ear. Possibly for privacy, but the sensation made Trixie just want to suck his tongue in her mouth like a vacuum.

  “They know you’re special. If they touch you, they become real. Your world can’t handle them. How many were there?” He pulled her from his whispering stance to gaze into her eyes like she was the smartest person in any room.

  Her words dripped out slowly, as if his sexy self was a quicksand filter. “A bunch.”

  He touched her cheek, his rough glove stroking the curve. “Think, Source. Think.”

  “Fifteen. Eight ladies and the rest men.” She waited while he calculated in his gorgeous head.

  Stupid and dazed, standing in a movie, Trixie thought of the three customers that had gone missing. The same instinct that forced her to adopt the kittens demanded that she snap out of her fog and catch the hell up.

  “We have three people in there that need help. What can we do?” She pushed away from his chest and stood on her own two feet.

  “They will be lost. You must stay here with me. If the Ragests can touch you, they can use your force to escape this prison. I can’t get into that world.” He hit her with his matinee come-hither stare.

  Her panties almost exploded.

  She shook her head. “There’s a child. I can’t.” Her backbone straightened.

  “We’ve just moments, I can’t teach you how to make the most of your powers in mere seconds.” He struck a pensive pose and his cape swirled around his ankles. 3-D was great and all, but face-to-face Sterling’s white tights were a little bit see-through. There were no secrets in his pants. Trixie fanned herself.

  “Powers? The only thing I can do regularly is gain weight and blow things up.”

  Dramatic music was piped in. The lighting hinted at a plot twist.

  “You blow things up because you’re the Source of tremendous good energy. You would need to control it as a weapon.”

  Trixie was most likely dreaming. She realized that now. Tons of good energy festering in her just didn’t add up. It wasn’t like she had perfect skin or legs for days. She was just a regular, plain girl.

  “As much as that would be so much more awesome then dooming all the things? I know that’s not true.”

  “Trix, tell me why you beat up the bullies in grade school that liked to steal lunch money from the nerds.” He squinted and nodded like he already knew the answer.

  “Um, they pissed me off so I came up behind them and knocked their stupid heads together. Then I got detention.” That wasn’t superhero material.

  “Tell me why you keep a shovel in your car?” He pantomimed shoveling.

  She threw up her hands. “I stop and bury dead animals on the side of the road. If I can still tell what they are, or if it was a pet or had a cute face.” She was just a road kill Grim Reaper.

  “Tell me why you came back to the movie after the restroom?” He peeled off his glove and looked up at her from under his lashes.

  “How about we leave that part out?” She didn’t want to embarrass the man in his own movie even if it was a dream.

  “Say it.” Sterling stepped closer.

  “I didn’t want you to have to be alone.” She shrugged and looked at her feet.

  “I say all of that? That’s the kind of good that separates the cowards from the warriors. Come here, Trix.” He grabbed her up again.

  She tried not to let the fact that Sterling had given her a cutesy nickname kill her dead just when her life was getting good.

  He slowly touched her cheek without the glove. Blue sparks flew from her face to his fingertips.

  “Shit!” She gasped.

  He put his hand in the center of her chest and drew the outline of a heart. “This is where your power is. If you want to fight, send your energy from here.” His green eyes were so close and intense.

  From the theater she heard whimpering.

  “The little boy?”

  Sterling nodded. “They are tormenting him with images. That’s all they can do right now. Unless you fail, then they’ll make your world their playground.”

  She swallowed and pushed away from Steel. The blue arcs of energy created a snapping, monochromatic rainbow between them before breaking the connection.

  “I have to try.”

  One half of his mouth lifted in a knowing grin. “I knew you would. I’ve
been watching you too, all these years.”

  With that Trixie was sucked back into the theater. She fell to the popcorn-scented carpet. The Ragest snapped their heads in her direction, like sea nymphs to a song. Before she could blink, all were within arms’ reach. Smiling now, their teeth were like daggers. She didn’t move. Trixie closed her eyes during the wave of panic. When it crested, Trixie felt the heart drawn on her skin by Sterling. Deeper she went. To the good energy. She smiled when she found it, the perfection. She had an ocean to draw from.

  Her eyes opened as she let the energy fill her. As the Ragests touched her skin, instead of becoming a gateway to something more, she became a perfect coffin for each and every one. The room glowed blue as the Ragests exploded one after another into nothing.

  From her seat on the ground, Trixie could see the little boy, eyes wide, but safe on the floor. His father and the old man stood up from where they had been held captive behind the chairs.

  It was then she noticed the ticket ripper and the usher, slack-jawed by the door. Obviously their check for contraband food had given them an eyeful. She wrinkled her nose as she noticed they had both wet their pants from fright. In the mêlée, obviously one of the witnesses or victims had called 911 because the room began to fill with various people in uniform.

  His voice was quiet in the din. She picked her 3-D glasses from the floor and turned towards him.

  “The good energy is in you.” Sterling bowed his head and blew her a kiss.

  Trixie shook her head. “I’m coming.”

  With that she fought her way to the screen and stood on a front row as the bystanders rubbed their eyes. The screen enveloped Trixie’s body and absorbed her like a pond.

  In an instant the ending for the new 3-D Steel film changed all across America. The hero dipped Trixie elaborately and kissed her deeply on the lips. The resulting energy-charged fireworks blacked out entire towns.

  A Fair Exchange

  by Ana Hart

  I grimaced around the bitterness that lingered just at the back of my mouth, at the bile that burned in my throat. Sarelia was dangerous. Powerful. An elder spirit of the Lower World. My palms grew slick at the very thought of what I was about to do. Suicide, Malorie had cried as I had left her hospital room that morning after yet another sleepless night rife with indecision. Daniel, you will get yourself killed.

  Perhaps, baby, perhaps. But at least I’ll die trying to save you.

  I had chosen a rather secluded spot for the event that would either be my single greatest success or my single greatest moment of stupidity. The canopy of the forest arced above me and as I pushed deeper into the coolness of the trees, I imagined their branches reaching out to embrace me, giving me strength.

  I was going to need it.

  The clearing opened before me in an almost perfect circle, though its true perfection was marred by the gurgling stream that slashed through the short grass, essentially dividing the clearing in half. It would suit.

  From the pockets of my jacket I dug out a handful of odds and ends – an assortment of rugged gemstones, a lighter, a pocketknife, and a bundled twist of sweetgrass held together with some old twine. The gemstones I cast before me onto the ground in a haphazard design, not caring where they fell. It was the gesture, not the placement, that Sarelia would be expecting. The sweetgrass and the lighter I tucked back into my pocket, saving them for later. I was trying my best to be optimistic that there was going to be a later.

  That left the pocketknife. I had picked it up at a convenience store on the drive over. It was shiny and new, but most importantly, it was sharp. I fumbled with it for a few seconds while my heart hammered away at my ribcage, drumming out a desperate cadence. This was it.

  I had called up Sarelia once before several years ago. By accident. It had been the single most frightening moment of my life. Yet, there I was, intent on a repeat performance.

  I promise I’m not a masochist.

  But I did force myself to watch as I pressed the tip of the blade against my right palm, nicking myself just deep enough to draw up blood. Blood and gemstones. It wasn’t the fanciest of offerings but it was simple, blunt. It got straight to the point. No pun intended.

  I pocketed the knife once more as I turned my palm earthwards, letting my blood drip down, scattering itself amongst the randomly placed stones. I closed my eyes and drew in a breath. My hand throbbed. My stomach churned. My legs began to tremble. No, I scolded my body as I slowly silenced all my physical complaints one by one, clearing my mind, pushing away my fears. I drew my energy close until my entire body pulsed with it. The energies of the forest swirled about me, brushing up against my power, and I drew it in as well, letting the ancient energies mingle with my own.

  Sarelia. The single word resounded within the emptiness of my mind, pulsing in time to the power that thrummed through my body. Sarelia. I felt my heart slow as my consciousness expanded, my mind reaching, searching. Sarelia.

  “Daniel.”

  I fought to keep my pulse slow, my breathing even. I could still feel the energies of the forest swirling around me, moving with and against my own, yet now they were joined by another power. A power far greater than mine. Slowly, carefully, I opened my eyes.

  A woman made of fire and air, of earth and water, stood before me. She seemed insubstantial and yet so solid, so…real. Her skin was of a molten gold with tattoos swirling over her body in varying shades of tawny and chocolate brown. They were ever-changing, ever-shifting. It made it difficult to look upon her for too long. Fiery hair fell wild about her bare shoulders, framing a face that was both feral and lovely. Her eyes, an ethereal swirl of blue and green, watched me most carefully. At the moment they were pale and soft and free of any emotion that I might possibly be able to detect but I knew all too well how quickly they could darken and flash with her fury. I eagerly lost myself in that gaze – anything to keep me from allowing my own eyes to roam over her body. She would have easily put any Victoria’s Secret model to shame. She also insisted upon wearing a dress as translucent as a dragonfly’s wings.

  I filled my mind with thoughts of Malorie as I quickly shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans to keep them from shaking. Well, at very least, to keep Sarelia from seeing them shake.

  “Malorie is ill,” I finally managed after several moments of working my tongue about within my suddenly too-dry mouth in vain. In reply, Sarelia arched a thin eyebrow. She didn’t even seem mildly moved.

  “And so?” the spirit purred. She spoke so softly and yet her voice easily seemed to fill the clearing. I tried to pretend like that didn’t bother me in the slightest.

  “And so…” I paused to wet my lips. I cleared my throat. I stalled as long as I possibly dared before continuing, “And so, I need your help.”

  It happened in the time it would have taken me to blink but I could have sworn I saw Sarelia’s eyes flash. Then again, it might just have been a trick of the light. In fact, her face still gave no indication as to whether she was pleased or pissed by my calling on her and that in itself worried me. Hell, everything about this little interlude worried me.

  “The doctors don’t know what’s wrong,” I continued quietly, my eyes intent upon Sarelia’s face, searching for any flicker of emotion the spirit might give away. “But she’s dying. I can feel it. I tried to root out the source of the sickness myself but…but it’s too deep and I’m not skilled enough in the healing arts. I was afraid I’d do more harm than good…”

  My voice finally trailed off into a silence that was almost unbearable. We stood in that silence for several long minutes before Sarelia finally deigned to speak. The power held in her voice alone was enough to make my arm hairs stand on end.

  “And so, you thought to call me up from the Lower World so that I might utilize my precious time in driving a sickness from the body of a singular mortal girl who is of no consequence to me?”

  Well, shit, when you put it that way…

  “Yes,” I tried to say, though
my voice came out as little more than a croak. I swallowed hard against my ever-mounting fear as I reached within myself, drawing on some of my power, giving myself just enough of a taste to lend me strength. “Yes,” I tried again and that time my voice carried. “I did.”

  Sarelia’s expression was dark and cold as her eyes swept over me. Those eyes stripped me bare and left me standing there, completely exposed as she so casually searched my soul. I shivered, knowing she would find me wanting.

  “And what, pray tell, do you intend to offer me in compensation for my time and resources?”

  I clenched my hands within the pockets of my jeans as I forced myself to hold her gaze, piercing though it was. Suddenly, seeing the elder spirit once more after so many years, my offering seemed far too meager – insulting even. But I had nothing else to give.

  “I brought you some gifts—”

  Sarelia cut me off with a laugh. It was not a merry sound.

  “A handful of gemstones and a couple drops of your blood, dear boy? How sweet.” She smiled then, flashing me a set of pearly whites and I immediately felt my heart sink. “But, I’m afraid that in the business of exchanging gifts, the exchange in question must be a fair one, would you not agree?”

  I nodded dumbly. What else could I do? I needed her help. For Malorie, I would pay the price.

  “What would you have of me, then?” The question was pointless. I knew what she would answer and yet I asked it anyway. I needed to hear her say it.

  “I would have you, dear boy.”

  A fair exchange. A life for a life.

  “You would see me dead.” Despite myself, I felt a tremble race along my body. I was young. I had not yet stopped to consider that I might have to meet death so soon. But, to my surprise, Sarelia shook her head as she took a step towards me, another laugh bubbling up from her throat as she did so. There was a lightness to the sound.

  “No,” she purred as she continued to approach, closing the distance between us in a matter of a few short strides. “I would see you reborn.”