Double Life - Book 1 of the Vaiya Series (42 page)

“Handsome, whatever,” she muttered, lowering
her blonde eyebrows and avoiding eye contact with him. Amanda’s
mouth still remained wide open in astonishment. Tianna kept
studying his face, bewilderment drawing lines on her forehead.

He had to break the mountainous tension.
“It’s simple, really,” he began, trying to overcome this crushing
experience by adding a touch of humor. “All I did was rub some
magical liquid onto my face and voila--you see me now.” He grinned
widely, like a successful magician.

They didn’t buy it, but at least their moods
lightened. “Come on,” said Tianna in disbelief, laughing softly,
stacking her dirty empty plate on top of two others. “That’s
ridiculous.”

“It’s the only explanation you’re gonna get.”
After ten seconds, Ian began to fidget,

growing steadily more uncomfortable. When a
question popped into his head, he gladly verbalized it. “So,
where’s Jimmy anyway?”

“He went to the restroom to wash his hands,”
replied Hazel in a whisper, not looking a bit interested in Jimmy’s
fate, as she stared at him as if she were trying to solve a
complicated jigsaw puzzle. But Ian was anything but
disinterested.

So he went to the restroom
? he
thought, puzzling over Jimmy’s whereabouts, as he got off the booth
and was just about to head over to get some salad, the only thing
he felt he could handle right now.
That’s weird. I don’t
remember seeing anyone in there.

But Hazel didn’t give him time to think about
this for long. Her eyes, swirling with puzzlement, fixed themselves
onto his blue jeans and sweater, beaming with deep interest. “Hey,
man, why aren’t your clothes wet? Didn’t you just wash them?”

Disturbed and somewhat startled by this new
topic, he looked down at his clothes, his completely dry clothes.
“Uh...yeah,” he muttered, as he grinned slightly. “But you’ve gotta
understand, I didn’t use that much water, and I dried them off
thoroughly.” Sadly, both of these statements were lies, but it
couldn’t be helped. The true story was so implausible that even
he
had a hard time believing it.

“Those hand dryers must be pretty high tech
then,” she murmured sarcastically, not willing to back down from
her argument. “Most don’t dry clothes that quickly.”

He smiled wryly. “Why do I even try? You
caught me.” He shrugged nonchalantly, as Hazel gave him the
weirdest look. “I used my superpowers to speed-dry my clothes.”

Confusion in her eyes, she chuckled, a
nervous blush on her cheeks, as if she’d thought Ian above making
such silly excuses. “I don’t think you can do that, Ian,” she
replied hesitantly.

But he just laughed, “Amazing, isn’t it?” He
placed his hands on the table in direct view of Hazel, as he
suddenly realized that he was definitely not acting like himself.
Whether it were the necklace’s power or the merfolk’s culture,
something had changed him--he was never this weird before. If he
didn’t snap out of this quickly, he might say something really
foolish … not that he hadn’t already, but it was best to not even
go there. What was said, could not go unsaid.

Unfortunately, though, Hazel didn’t give him
any time to change back to himself. Staring at his hands, she just
shook her head in bewilderment. “What’s wrong with your hands?” she
asked, sudden concern in her voice.

Her abrupt change in topic deeply unsettled
him. “My hands?” He looked down at his hands and noticed that they
were bruised--his knuckles scratched. Remembrance dawned on him,
but it was too late to hide them now. He faked a smile, realizing
that rescuing the mermaid hadn’t come without a cost. “Oh, they’re
fine,” he said assuredly. “Just a few scrapes … that’s all.”

“But they weren’t like this a little bit
ago.”

He chuckled nervously, growing rather annoyed
at Hazel’s keen observations. “What, do you watch everything about
me?”

She shrugged off his comment. “Did you cut
yourself in the bathroom or what?”

“Yeah, you caught me,” he said sarcastically.
“That’s why the cuts are already healed.” Really, even he wasn’t
sure how they’d healed so fast. It must have had something to do
with mermen healing faster.

Whatever the case, though, Hazel was
completely perplexed. Folding her hands, she just continued staring
at his hands in a daze. “But how could they heal so quickly?”

He responded without even thinking, “More of
my magic, I guess.”

At this comment, Eddy grimaced--he’d had
enough. Nudging Ian’s side fiercely with his elbow, Eddy put the
last two bites of cinnamon apple pie on hold. “Come on, man--what’s
Jimmy doin’ to you?”

“Nothing.” Tense, Ian tacked on his most
casual smile, hiding his tumultuous inner emotions. This was going
much worse than he’d expected. He just wanted it to end.

“Nothing?” questioned Eddy, eyebrows raised.
“Then what’s with the weird attitude recently?”

“Weird attitude?” asked Ian, as he felt his
full stomach trying to reject his mission of getting a plate of
salad. Why did he have to eat so much in the merfolk kingdom?

“Yeah, you’re suddenly into Halloween, you
try out girl’s perfume, you keep talking about magic, and now you
put on makeup.” He pushed his glass to the side, dry humor in his
voice. “What, are you auditioning for Sabrina the Teenage
Witch?”

“Real funny, Eddy; you know that show’s not
airing new episodes.”

“That’s beside the point,” he said, chuckling
only slightly before facing his friend, seriousness now in his
eyes. “But really, man, what’s goin’ on?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied, biting his tongue
to keep his face neutral.

“Well, find out.” Eddy sat back, as he
studied his friend’s face again. He frowned. “I feel like I don’t
even know you anymore.”

Ian’s heart throbbed. He stood up, trying to
jest about his worries. “Lighten up, man; it’s no big deal. We all
have our off days.” Pausing, as Eddy frowned at him again, he
added, “Yeah … so how about we grab some food?”

His face lightened a bit, a faint sigh
escaped his lips. “Sure, man.”

Grabbing a plate, Ian silently ground his
teeth together in agony as he headed off to the salad section of
the buffet with Eddy tagging behind, the girls whispering among
themselves at the table, likely about him. Never mind that he was
as stuffed as a pirate’s treasure chest after eating all that food
at the merfolk palace; he’d make this work.

Scooping some lettuce onto his plate,
followed by green bell peppers, spinach, broccoli, and squeezing a
mesquite lime-marinade onto it, he commented to Eddy about him
going green. Eddy actually laughed. Ian smiled inwardly--he could
turn things around.

Taking his time filling up another plate with
various junk foods like butterscotch pudding, raspberry tapioca
pudding, and a blob of vanilla ice cream, he began to sprinkle
various candy pieces onto his ice cream, taking his time.
Hopefully, the waitress or Jimmy would come back to the booth
before he did. Either way the attention would switch off him--at
least temporarily. It just had to.

Will draw my eyes to it?
thought Jimmy
fearfully, replaying Commander Gavar’s words, as he turned into yet
another dark alleyway, hoping to get out of this maze, and find the
inn entitled the Apple Orchard, oblivious to the fact that he was
in Sarette Village and not Copperstone’s Creek where the desired
inn was located.
Then why haven’t I spotted it yet?

Ever since he’d left the barracks, everything
had gone wrong: he’d been robbed by a rough band of thieves, who
took his whole burlap sack of money, his wallet, fortunately not
containing more than twenty dollars, and his cell phone; he’d been
stung on his arm by a flying centipede type of insect; and he’d
somehow taken the road into the bad part of town--the slums--which
he couldn’t seem to escape from.

If anything, he should be glad to still have
the keys to his truck, which the thieves didn’t seem to take any
interest in. Yet, as he’d probably be stuck here forever, these
keys wouldn’t likely do him any good.

As he walked uneasily down a dusty narrow
path surrounded by dirty patched houses with tattered clothes
hanging on the sides of them acting as windows, loose shingles on
top, and garbage piles consisting of moldy fruit, raw meat, and
other disgusting things near their bases, fear trickled inside of
him. Around every corner, behind every window, on every roof, a
murderer could lurk, waiting for the opportune moment to slash away
his life. And he wouldn’t even have a chance. Adrenaline rushing
through him, he quickened his pace, his eyes growing more alert. He
wouldn’t die without a fight.

Starting to feel a bit braver, he suddenly
heard low coarse laughter, the sort exhibited by drunkards, coming
from somewhere near him. Crouching behind a stack of wooden crates,
keeping his blue jeans off the repulsive dirt and his body hidden,
he then peered through the crates and noticed to his horror a band
of well-clad thieves with knives, daggers, swords, and other
paraphernalia attached to their belts; the same ones who’d robbed
him earlier.

As they drew closer, he made out a symbol of
a red axe sewn onto their cloaks. He held his breath as they
scuffled past him.

“Heh, heh … ole blacksmith Garvi’s gonna get
it again. When we’re a done with him, he ain’t gonna have any money
left for his poor daughter.”

“No dowry, no marriage,” said another in an
acerbic voice. “She’ll remain unwed til’ she die.”

“Lovely thought,” said the first thief,
laughing maliciously. “It’s our way of sayin’ thanks.”

“It’s dirty revenge,” replied the second, a
broad-shouldered man, with an heir of authority about him. “She
refuse to marry me; we retaliate.” He coughed. “We make the whole
family pay for her crime.”

So focused on the bad grammar the Mafia men
spouted out, Jimmy absentmindedly leaned forward, causing one of
the crates to inch forward. Dialogue immediately halted. Footsteps
drew nearer. His heart hammered; his muscles trembled. They’d
spotted him and there was nothing he could do.

“Looks like we’ve caught ourselves a spy,”
said the second thief, clearly the thief leader by his rich
apparel, as he clutched Jimmy’s shirt with one hand and
effortlessly dragged him out from his hiding place into the
alleyway, where he flung him mercilessly onto the dusty street.

As Jimmy tumbled across the ground for
several seconds before eventually getting a hold of himself and
lifting himself into a squatting position, the thief leader, gazing
at him, immediately recognized him, grinning knowingly as only a
villain could. “You the oddly dressed guy we robbed earlier,” he
said, his smile growing more wicked by the moment. “Well, your day
just gonna get even worse.” With deftness, the muscular man drew
his dagger, slicing it at Jimmy’s throat.

But Jimmy was ready for him, and suddenly
leaned his head backwards, avoiding his sharp blade by a mere two
inches.

This maneuver infuriated the thief. He lunged
at him again with startling speed, when a sudden burst of
adrenaline overpowered Jimmy and he kicked the thief so hard in the
stomach before his weapon could cut into him, causing the man to
tumble through a few crates, knocking them down, and land backwards
on the ground, his dagger whirling through the air and landing in
the ground sharp side up, nearly gashing his foot. All eyes,
devilish as a hyena’s, instantly turned on Jimmy in frenzied
hatred.

“Brazen idiot!” yelled the first thief, as
Jimmy scrambled to his feet and faced the man with utter horror in
his eyes, realizing he didn’t stand a chance against all of these
men and that running wasn’t even an option, as they’d catch him in
a heartbeat. The only thing he could do now was back away slowly
and hope they’d change their minds or find something else to
interest them.

While Jimmy started backing up with caution
as if each move would trigger an avalanche, the man closed in for
the kill, shouting, “This is for wounding Cargamur!” Leaping
forward, the shaggy bearded man, aimed his sword straight at
Jimmy’s stomach.

Evading the blade, feeling a fountain of raw
energy coursing through him, Jimmy scooped up the dropped dagger
and parried a powerful strike to the heart. Then, a weird, ethereal
sensation spread throughout his body, causing all his skin,
muscles, and bones to tingle.

Before he could ponder what was happening to
him, the thief dove his sword into his abdomen.

Time seemed to stop. Jimmy let out a
blood-curdling scream of terror, his heart bursting with fear,
tears filling his eyes, as he backed away from the thief, holding
his stomach tightly, expecting pain to course through his body any
second. Rage burned into his heart. He couldn’t die! Not now! He
shouldn’t even be here!

As Jimmy stood there in a wild panic sinking
to his knees, the attacking thief pulled out his sword with glee, a
bloodthirsty glint in his eyes, before he glanced at Jimmy. Then
his countenance immediately darkened.

Plucking a cluster of dull white weeds from
the ground, he quickly backed away from Jimmy, holding out the
weeds as if to ward him off. “Sunlight dispels shadows!” he
continued repeating with a stammering tongue, as if the words would
yield him magical protection.

But Jimmy just ignored him, hope and
astonishment gushing into his mind. Why wasn’t he bleeding? Why
didn’t he feel any pain?

Staring down nervously at the spot where the
thief had plunged in his sword, Jimmy noticed that his shirt wasn’t
even torn. It was as if the sword had passed right through his
stomach--as if his body were incorporeal.

In awe, heart thumping, he failed to notice
as a short, stubby thief hurled a butcher knife at his neck.
However, instead of piercing through his neck, the knife flew
straight through his body and embedded itself in a wooden door
behind him.