Hell's Geek (4 page)

“Don’t talk to the passengers. You’ll ruin the mystique.” From the official Ferryman’s guide.

The demon’s death and warnings put a damper on any conversation. Oh wait, that was already happening before.

For some reason, Adexios found himself tongue-tied around Valaska. Anyone else, he had a snappy retort—just ask his dad.

“Son, why are the damned arriving wet?”

“I might have accidentally hit that whirlpool on account of I hate this job!”

On second thought, maybe not snappy, but at least he had a reply.

With his friends, he always found a topic of interest, one of the more popular ones being the decaying social structure of the rings—a debate going on now for a few centuries according to Ol’ Pete, who’d started it back during the Spanish Inquisition.

When conversing with his mom, it was usually something along the lines of, “When are you settling down?” Apparently when the right woman came along and crazy glued his feet to the floor was not the right answer. That cost him dessert for a week.

Still though, he knew how to hold up his end of a conversation, and it drove him nuts that he kept hesitating saying something to Valaska. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have questions:
What’s it like being an Amazon? How young did you start your training? Is it true Amazon warriors kill their men after they’ve taken their seed? And does the blonde on your head match the carpet below?

Wait a second. That wasn’t his thought.

For a moment, he looked around, suspicion in his gaze, but the person who would have uttered such a thing was nowhere to be seen. But Adexios never put anything past the Lord of Mischief. The devil had a picture under the definition of devious. He also had one under troublemaker and meddler, which was what Adexios suspected was at play.

If Lucifer harbored any mistaken ideas about getting Adexios to pair off with a woman so he could make super minions, then he could just forget it. He wasn’t about to become the newest victim of the devil’s matchmaking game—even if Valaska was ridiculously hot. Hot didn’t make her healthy for him. The woman had thighs strong enough to crush a man if he dared get between her legs.

Sigh.

What a way to die.

Speaking of dying, he really should pay attention to their surroundings, given he’d almost stepped into a very strange puddle.

He held up his arm to halt Valaska. “Stop. Don’t touch this.”

“Yes, let us fear the innocuous pool of clear water. It is so obviously dangerous,” Valaska said in an utterly dry tone.

“And how do you know it isn’t?” he retorted. “Look around you. Have you seen how many of these puddles have started cropping up?” Some almost pond-sized at more than eight feet across, but none of them very deep. “Doesn’t it seem odd to you?”

She rolled her shoulders. “It’s a puddle of water. They happen when it rains. Give it a few hours. It will probably evaporate.”

“If this were a normal puddle, I’d agree. But this body of water wasn’t created by a rain shower. At least not one that happened recently. Look around, if it had been left by a natural weather phenomenon, there’d be signs of moisture, and yet look.” He crouched and grabbed at the loose and dry soil, rubbing it between his fingers. It left dusty marks, and a weak puff of breeze blew some of the smaller particles loose. “This ground hasn’t seen moisture in days, if not weeks.”

“I knew that,” she grumbled.

Did he spot a hint of red in her cheeks?

Kneeling at the edge of the clear water basin in his path, he stared and frowned. “This is very strange.”

“What’s the matter?”

The shallow depression in the dirt held the water much like a bowl would, but nothing else. “Don’t you find it odd that you can see the bottom?” he asked.

Leaning over him, she peeked. “It’s not deep. Of course, we can see the bottom.”

“But we shouldn’t and for several reasons. One, according to surveys of this area—”

“Hold, I thought the wilds were unmapped. You bitched about that a few times when we were prepping to come.”

Bitching? No, merely pointing out the impossibility of their mission.

“Most of the wilds are uncharted, but this section we’re in, being so close to the border and to the last portal town in the ninth ring, is actually decently documented. I studied those maps before our departure.”

“Nerd.”

“I prefer the term informed.”

“Getting feisty with me, geek boy?”

Not intentionally, but now that she mentioned it, yes, he would like to get feisty, with her, wearing no clothes. But that wasn’t what he replied. “I am simply reporting facts. And the fact is, according to maps, we should have reached the edge of the rainforest and entered the swamplands.”

“So the landscape changed. Big deal. This is the wilds. It changes all the time.”

“Yes and no. While the foliage might get bigger, and swamps shrink or grow depending on the season, certain things remain the same, such as the fact that clear water puddles shouldn’t exist out here when the ground is much too dry. The soil should be sucking it in like a sponge. And why is there no algae growth? Or debris in any of the puddles? Add into that the fact that there is too much dead and dying foliage and a distinct lack of life.”

“Lack? I saw plenty of life on our way in. Killed a few that wanted to take yours.”

“Now who’s acting feisty?” He wondered which of them was more surprised, him or her, at his statement.

She laughed. “Any time you wanna give me a try, geek boy, you let me know, and I’ll show you just how feisty I can get.”

“Could you please call me something other than geek boy? It’s emasculating.”

“Geek man?”

He scowled.

Her reply? Laughter. “Fine. How about Dex? Is that manly enough for you?”

“Dex is fine. Now back to these odd puddles. Notice how there are no tracks leading to them? Animals require fluids to flourish, yet I see no sign they’re using this crystal-clear water to quench their thirst.”

“So you think it is poisoned?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t smell like poison.”

“Because you’ve smelled so many in your life?”

“Actually yes, I have. Part of my boatman training. Believe it or not, people have tried to assassinate my dad over the years in the hopes of taking over his job.”

“They obviously weren’t very good at it,” she said with noticeable disdain. “When someone in my tribe sets out to kill someone, they always succeed.”

“Oh, some of them were good, but my dad kicks ass.” Said with obvious pride. While he and his father might sometimes find themselves at odds, he still bore a strong affection and respect for the man.

“I didn’t take Charon for a fighter.”

Adexios didn’t take offense. Not many knew about his dad’s super skills. “No one does, which is why it’s so awesome. But fighting isn’t all he’s learned to do. Over the centuries, my dad also had to watch the food we brought into the house for poison.”

“And he taught you this detecting skill?”

He nodded. “Taught and helped me build a resistance to several kinds. He said, as his son, I was a target, too.”

“Aren’t you just the most intriguing geek ever? Very well, since you’re the expert, sniff it and tell me what you smell.”

Bending down, while careful to keep his hands from the edge lest it turn out to be some sort of acidic compound, he inhaled a deep breath through his nose. “I sense no bitterness. Nor nutty smells.” He drew in another nose full, and his brow creased. “It kind of reminds me a bit of the Darkling Sea smell. Briny, and yet, without the algae undertone.”

“For fuck’s sake, this is taking too long. Why not just taste it?”

“Are you insane…”

His voice trailed off as Valaska crouched. She didn’t hesitate to cup a handful of the water and bring it to her lips.

She sipped from her hands and grimaced. “Ugh.”

“Are you all right? Is your mouth burning? Are you in pain?”

“No pain other than to my palate. The stuff tastes like seawater.”

“Seawater?” Given she wasn’t convulsing, sweating, or hitting the ground with eyes rolled back, he judged it safe enough to sample a sip.

His turn to grimace. “Oh yeah. That’s salty all right, but that makes no sense. How would seawater make it out here? How did it form into so many little puddles, and why aren’t they seeping into the ground?” Even more worrisome, how far did it extend?

It seemed she shared his concern. “If this is happening here, only a dozen or more miles from the edge, then what about farther in?”

“I suspect if this area isn’t an anomaly, then the puddles will get larger in size. The dead trees and other bare patches will get bigger.”

“If you’re right, then what about the animals and other stuff that relies on the swamp lands and plants?”

“They’ll die, or they’re already dead.” Or so he assumed, even if he’d yet to see any remains other than the one demon they’d come across.

“Do you think this is what killed that fire imp?” Valaska asked. Judging by the worried line on her forehead, she was really hoping the water wasn’t the cause of that demon’s death.

With a shake of his head, he allayed her fear. “No, whatever got that imp resembled a burn. If this were the cause, you’d be feeling it.”

“I’d like to make sure.” She stuck out her tongue. “Does it look all right to you?”

More than all right. But if she wanted to test it and make sure it was working properly, he had something she could lick.

Thank hell he still crouched lest she see the effect she had on him. “Looks fine,” he muttered.

“So any ideas on what we should do now?”

“Do? How about worry about what this all means?” he said, taking out an empty jar from yet another one of his pockets and scooping some of the liquid in it.

“If the smart guy is worried, then I guess I should be too. That is unless you think I can beat these puddles with a sword?”

“Uh, no,” he said rather starkly.

“Knock-out punch?” she asked hopefully.

“Still a no.” Replied while wondering if she was joking about actually physically fighting puddles.

“So let me ask you how I’m supposed to fight water and burning shit that can kill even an ornery fire demon.”

“You can’t fight them. In order to beat this blight on the wilds, we need to find the source.”

“And then I can kill something?” she asked with an eager lilt.

“If there is something to kill. Keep in mind that any being strong enough to change the landscape of the wilds is someone to be feared. It could be that the skills of a warrior aren’t what we’ll need. We might need magic to beat magic.”

“Ugh, a sorcerer fight. Those suck unless they’ve raised the dead. They make worthy opponents so long as they don’t ooze on you.”

He shot her a startled glance and was blown away at the grin she bestowed upon him. Full of good humor, it transformed her from an intimidating blonde warrior goddess to an intimidating, fucking smoking-hot blonde warrior goddess.

Face it, smiling or not, Valaska was what he wanted, wanted even more than a caffeine-laced coffee.

“Why are you looking at me funny? I’m serious, you know. Decomposing corpse is hell to get out of leather. It reeks for weeks.”

He shook his head and chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone speak so honestly before. It’s refreshing.”

“Shh!” She held her finger to her lips and peeked around. “Don’t use the H word aloud. You know who could be listening. It’s not honesty; it’s bitching. Complaining. Totally approved behavior by the big guy.”

“Are you really that paranoid about sin?”

“Well, yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “Lucifer’s a stickler for perfect behavior when it comes to handing out bonuses.”

“You work for him often?”

“A few jobs. He calls on my tribe quite often to help out with certain jobs that need a little extra.”

“Because you have such a reputation for being fierce and unrelenting.”

She laughed. “That and the fact we apparently make great television. HBC has a reality show that follows our exploits.
Irons Tits, the Amazon Smackdown
. Ever seen it?”

Yes. But he wouldn’t admit it. It was one of his guilty pleasures, although he didn’t recall seeing Valaska on it. Then again, the face paint the warriors wore—thick eyeliner, dark eye shadow and bright lipstick—could really transform a woman.

“Sorry, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.”

“Apologizing again?” She tsked him. “Look at you, really trying to get on Satan’s last nerve. Brave guy.”

“Not really. I ignore the smaller sins in favor of getting points for the big ones.” Such as the time he’d accidentally forgotten a soul on the departure shore. It happened. To him at any rate. And it wouldn’t have been so bad if the damned soul hadn’t wandered off and haunted a subway system for a few months.

Boy, did he get in trouble for that situation. Apparently, he’d broken some major ferryman rule. But on the upside, that subway’s rat problem disappeared by the time the bounty hunters dragged the damned soul back.