Tài liệu Bluewood Author Showcase Anthology 2011 pdf

Bluewood Anthology 2011 By: Various Authors ISBN: 978-1-927134-69-6 All rights reserved Copyright © Nov 2011, Deborah McNemar, Tony Butler, Dan Strawn, Jennie Marsland, Angela Rigley, Jeanette Hewitt, Julie Romero, A.F.Allen, Paulette Rae, David Bowman, Corrine Shroud Cover Art Copyright © Nov 2011, Brightling Spur Bluewood Publishing Ltd Christchurch, 8441, New Zealand www.bluewoodpublishing.com Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Bluewood Publishing Ltd Special Note: This book contains a mix of US,UK and NZ Spellings Smashwords Edition – License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase another copy for each person you share it with If you’re reading this book, and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your own use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author Table of Contents Coupe De Merci by Deborah McNemar Bogeyman by Tony Butler Dos Equis by Dan Strawn Matthew’s Gift by Jennie Marsland On The Edge by Angela Rigley Ellen’s Journey by Jeanette Hewitt It’s Hell To Get Old by Julie Romero The Lady of the Lake by A.F Allen David’s Goliath by Paulette Rae Vanguard To Vampire by David Bowman Forget Me by Corrine Shroud Introduction We hope you will enjoy the varied short stories contained within these pages All of the authors included are published authors, and should you be interested in other work by certain authors we have included a hyperlink to their author pages on our site All of our books are carried by most, if not all of the major e-book retailers, and you can of course purchase their books from sites such as Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Apple iBooks, Kobo, WHSmith, Waterstones, Whitcoulls, Sony and Smashwords Coupe De Merci An assassin falls for his intended mark Can a killer find redemption in the arms of a woman or is it all smoke and mirrors? Deborah McNemar Deborah McNemar’s lifelong love of romance, fantasy and science fiction have finally comingled beyond redemption Living in a small town in North Dakota, she divides her time between writing, her family and her small herd of Dachshunds Now a Grandmother, life is only getting better You can find Deborah’s books at: http://www.bluewoodpublishing.com/Authors/DeborahMcNemar.php Nick took another swig of his beer, his gray eyes roving the bar She would be here, he told himself Sweet little Felicity would never break a promise to a friend even if it was something as simple as meeting for a drink after work She was so cheerfully honest It shone from her like an inner light So innocent So gullible His beer was getting warm On the jukebox, Godsmack rasped about needing serenity The gravel-rough voice edged into his calm When the original e-mail to the feds had been intercepted, his boss had thought it a fluke, a curiosity that would soon be forgotten So, the numbers didn’t add up Numbers seldom did what you wanted unless you were a bookkeeper So what if this junior secretary for an antiques distributor could simple math? It meant nothing And this assignment smelled all wrong Antiquities were a dicey business at best These particular pieces had been sold for far less than they were worth, but that meant nothing The woman didn’t have access to the real accounts where the full payment for the shipment had been logged She had no way of knowing the Mayan figurines were actually fakes used to transport cocaine into the country She was as ignorant as she was innocent She was late Nick swore under his breath and took another swig of beer Felicity was dependable to a fault, something he had discovered over the last two weeks If she were going to be late, she would have called Something had happened Nick’s stomach clenched He hadn’t meant to get this close to her It was taboo for someone in his profession to allow his emotions to get tangled in his business But this had been out of his control from the first time he had laid eyes on her “Nick!” Felicity waved at him as she came through the door It must be raining again Tiny droplets littered on her cheeks and lashes as she slid into the booth beside him She smelled of rain and vanilla He wanted to lean over and lick the water from her skin He stifled the urge with another long pull on his beer He had a thing for petite brunettes Felicity stood barely four inches over five feet in her stocking feet She wore her dark hair long and straight Her body was slim with full breasts and delicate bones, a dichotomy of lush and fragile that tempted him as no woman had in years She liked plain clothes that didn’t draw attention and high-heeled shoes Every time he saw her, he had to fight the urge to bundle her up and stick her in his pocket where he could keep her safe His very own pocket Venus “You aren’t going to believe what I found today,” she told him as she settled her purse beside her and shook back her hair Her dark eyes sparkled up at him She was wearing silk today The deep burgundy color was rich against her peaches and cream skin Nick’s eyes followed the curve of her blouse where it dipped modestly over her breasts, her words barely registering He toyed with the long neck of the beer bottle “That CD you wanted,” she continued, her smile as bright as a spring morning “I went to lunch with Jeannie and there it was.” She produced the old Queen CD with a flourish and laid it in front of him “Since when you have lunch in a music store?” Damn It was going to be hard enough to what he had to without her being nice to him It was just his luck that nice was Felicity’s permanent setting She didn't even seem to PMS “Since it’s right next door to the coffee shop where we always eat,” she returned with a puckish grin “Jeannie was looking for some Barry Manilow.” Nick shuddered at the thought and was rewarded by Felicity’s laugh There was a lull in the music as the jukebox flipped to the next song and some country singer began admonishing them to save a horse, ride a cowboy “You didn’t have to that,” he reprimanded, keeping his tone mild “It’s what friends do,” she argued as the waitress brought her a soda and a glass of ice “You offered to help me out with my computer and won’t take money for it Just call this making things even Okay?” Making things even He took another long pull of his beer to cover his discomfort He had made the offer as a way to get into her house and check out what she had on her PC without her being any the wiser She thought he was a computer tech She had no idea what his real occupation was He eyed the curve of her hip under the sleek fitting skirt as she reached for a napkin He wished he were a tech He would love to interface with her software “You still having that lag in your server?” he asked to fill the moment “Yeah.” She poured her soda into the glass, watching it foam over the ice “It takes forever to load anything I cleared my cache thingy and did that defragmenter thing, too, just like you said It helped but it’s still lagging badly.” “Do you still want me to look at it?” he asked on cue “If you have time tonight, I would really appreciate it.” She smiled up at him, beautifully, stupidly grateful Nick swallowed the bitterness that rose in his throat He was a professional He wasn’t going to be sidetracked by a pair of doe eyes and soft breasts If she knew anything real about the operation, he would eliminate her That was the reality of his life and he was paid too well to get distracted now “Dance with me,” she said The jukebox had fallen quiet but there was an older man dropping quarters and searching the song list “You don’t even know what the song is going to be,” he protested, laughing “I don’t care.” Felicity slid from the booth and grabbed his hand, tugging him after her He went, as obedient as a puppy “I’ve wanted to dance with you since the first day I met you.” He could dance with her without getting too close, Nick told himself as they wove through the tables toward the dance floor Dancing didn’t involve touching, which in turn would keep him from wanting things he couldn’t have As they reached the parquet floor, the first strains of piano floated to them and Nick swore under his breath A slow dance Felicity moved into his arms as if she had been made to fit there Even in heels, her head didn’t quite come to his shoulder It didn’t seem to bother her She only snuggled closer, laying her head over his heart and wrapping her arms around his waist Nick forced himself to breathe as he rested his hands on her hips and they began to sway to the music Desperado, why don’t you come to your senses? You’ve been out riding fences for so long now Oh, you’re a hard one, but I know that you’ve got your reasons These things that are pleasing you can hurt you somehow Felicity was singing Her voice, slightly husky, caressed his ears like an angel’s whisper It felt as if fate were somehow talking to him, tempting him Tonight, with this woman, the words of the song held a painful truth Don’t you draw the Queen of Diamonds, boy She’ll beat you if she’s able The Queen of Hearts is always your best bet Now, it seems to me some fine things have been laid upon your table, but you only want the ones that you can’t get He could have her, Nick realized He could take her to bed and indulge his every fantasy After she fell asleep, he could rifle her PC He didn’t have to deny himself She was hardly computer literate enough to know if he had touched anything On the jukebox, the Eagles continued their lament Desperado, why don't you come to your senses? Come down from your fences, open the gate It may be raining, but there's a rainbow above you You better let somebody love you… You better let somebody love you before it's too late As the last strains of the song in the air, Felicity sighed, her breasts pressing against him in a caress that set his blood pulsing hot and thick in his veins Her eyes were soft and luminous with something that tempted him beyond reason As Gretchen Wilson began informing the bar that she was here for the party, Nick followed Felicity without a word She gathered her purse, dropped some bills on the table for their drinks and led him outside into the softly falling rain **** The numbers on the clock beside the bed read AM Nick lay still, staring at the ceiling Felicity was curled next to him, her tiny hand resting on his chest For a relative innocent, she had been the most incredible experience of his life For a moment, he indulged in the fantasy of waking up this way every morning with this woman beside him, of a dog and a house and a regular job Felicity sighed, shifting in her sleep, and the pleasant little bubble burst His boss would never let him go He had seen others turn state’s evidence and vanish into witness protection only to turn up dead on the six o’clock news months later With care, Nick slipped from the bed and tugged on his jeans, leaving them unfastened Padding on bare feet, he crept from the room, pulling the door almost shut behind him The click of the latch might wake her up and he didn’t need her walking in on him while he worked Her computer sat on her desk in the corner, a standard PC with a flat screen monitor She didn’t have a web cam, he noted absently She didn’t care to surf the web for companionship, it seemed Ignoring the pleased buzz that information gave him, Nick turned on the computer and waited for it to boot up There was probably nothing here to find Felicity wasn’t computer literate enough to hack her way through the encrypted files to the only information that would link his boss to the cocaine shipments But the e-mail had been sent from this computer, not her terminal at work Giovanni Bartonelli ran one of the largest syndicates in the Chicago area Drugs were only a small part of his operation, but they were lucrative He had several drop points like this antiquities dealer here in Seattle spread across the country Purchases of artifacts and artwork were made through corporate fronts and never the same one twice in a year Names were guarded by top of the line security and were changed often to throw off any snoopers The majority of the people who worked for him never knew what they shipped Nick had been a bouncer in a bar in New York when Bartonelli had found him After Nick had stiff-armed one of the big man’s bodyguards into the street during an altercation, Bartonelli had offered him a job The pay had been too good to pass up He had gone from protection to elimination in less than five years and the pay was even better He had never had a problem killing his marks Most were dealers who got greedy or leeches who refused to pay up Hardly something to lose sleep over The screen flashed to her desktop and the icons appeared Her wallpaper turned out to be the Phantom of the Opera reflected in an old, pockmarked mirror Nick grinned So, she liked dangerous, psychotic men, did she? Cute With a glance at the darkened hallway, he got to work Accessing her computer’s memory was no problem She had no safeguards to speak of She had cleared her cache but not the history Nick scrolled through the information, looking for any sign that she did more than a bit of Internet shopping She liked shoes and books She had paid her power bill online this afternoon Still, he couldn’t afford to be careless He found it by accident, a link to a website he had never heard of Out of curiosity, he connected to the Internet and entered the link into the browser As the page loaded, Nick sat back in the chair, a chill running over him It was all there Off shore bank account numbers, names of suppliers in South America and even a shockingly complete list of corporate fronts and the names of the men who ran them Felicity had somehow managed to find Bartonelli’s personal accounts What the hell was Bartonelli thinking putting all this stuff on the web? Nick’s fingers flew over the keys He had to alter the files, he thought feverishly No one could know what she had found He couldn’t kill her He had known that the moment he had walked into her house tonight He could kill scum without blinking an eyelash but not Felicity She didn’t deserve that Hands grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms and body to the chair Nick swore, kicking off from the desk to break their hold The chair flipped over backwards and he landed hard He heard the men grunt but they retained their hold There were five of them There was a prick in his arm, a sharp pain and then lethargy took hold Felicity stood over him, a syringe in her hand She wore only a silk robe He could see the puckered outline of her nipples through the thin material The men used duct tape to secure him to the chair but it was unnecessary Nick couldn’t move He couldn’t find the strength to lift a finger “Oh, Nick,” she whispered as she knelt beside him “I hoped they were wrong about you But you had to go and try to cover that bastard Bartonelli’s ass and prove them right It doesn't matter what you've done to those files The feds already have the information.” “Why?” It was hard to force the word from between his lips That strange lethargy was spreading through him fast and he wondered how long he had before he passed out “Andre Lemarou.” The name hit Nick hard Andre Lemarou had been a computer security whiz kid who had tried to opt out of his position with Bartonelli last year Nick had been sent to eliminate the threat before he turned over any information to the feds He had done the job with his normal clean efficiency The kid had never known what hit him “Brother?” Felicity shook her head “He was my husband and I loved him very much.” Nick closed his eyes in defeat He had made the kill quick and clean, but that would hardly matter to the widow The first bitter trickle of admiration rose in him She, a relative novice, had played him like a pro “The Feds have enough information to bury Bartonelli But you…” She gave a lithe twist of her shoulders “You were mine, not theirs From the moment you pulled that trigger, you belonged to me.” She stroked a finger over his cheek, her beautiful eyes dark and serene “Andre died painlessly compared with the others who’ve crossed Bartonelli in the past Thank you for that.” She knew it had been him It didn't matter how she had found out She had known and she had still crawled into that bed with him and spread her legs It was the oldest trick in the book and he had fallen for it Fury sparked through him, but he was helpless He tried to fight the tape, but he couldn’t budge He could only glare up at her, panting “You’re going to die of a heroin overdose,” she told him “I will grant you the same mercy you showed Andre Your kindness has won you a painless death Coup de merci, Nicco.” Leaning over him, Felicity pressed a soft kiss to his mouth Touching his face with gentle fingers, she rose and vanished out of his sight The scent of vanilla lingered in his nose as the world went dark Overall today had not been a good day; indeed it’d actually been a bloody horrible day I’d set out nearly twelve hours ago and finally my destination was almost in sight For the third time this week I’d been ordered to cross the terrifyingly open ground between Vanguard and Vampire Only a distance of half a mile but not a route any sane man would want to cross Slowly I lifted my head for a last look round, moving very, very slowly so as not to attract the attention of a sniper, or worse still an artillery spotter My uniform was caked in mud, and so was I, filthy wet stinking mud Flanders mud Back in the dugout we maintain there is nothing in the world quite like Flanders mud To be honest, given the way the whole area here to the north east of Ypres has been fought over for the last three years, there cannot be anything like this sea of muck It might have been mud to start with but now it contained many, many things, not merely soil and water, but also the pulverised remains of men and animals If I stayed completely still, from any appreciable distance I was indistinguishable from the mud surrounding me, so each time I moved I ran the risk of betraying myself You quickly learned in the signal corps to look around, moving only your eyes It was far easier at night but there was one job you couldn’t unless you could see and that was string telephone cable You had to run the cable in one pass; you couldn’t stop and backtrack if you came up against a shell hole or anything else impassable So here I was in the churned mud and unearthly landscape, stringing yet another telephone cable from the divisional headquarters, Vanguard, where I was based, to the battalion headquarters at Vampire Yeah, I know, an odd name but all the bunkers in this sector were named using the letter V Hence my base Vanguard and the new one the boys of One-Seven-One tunnelling company had completed the week before, Vampire The generals said we were winning, driving the Hun back True, this ground I was now crawling over had been German territory only months before but our Lieutenant had calculated last night that at this rate it would take us ‘til 1931 to reach Berlin and by then we’d have lost every man jack of an Englishman twice over Towing the large reel of cable should have been a two man job for our section Trouble was, Jacko caught a shell fragment that about took his leg off just below the knee last week and Peters went out to check a line three days ago and never came back He was still out here somewhere If he was lucky a shell came down near him and he never knew anything about it If he wasn’t, the shell came down further away and a fragment slicing into him meant he bled to death in this sea of mud There again, we were all terrified of one more possibility, being wounded, blown into a shell hole and drowned, unable to escape the clinging liquefied mud The mud dominated our life every single minute of every single day The torrential rain of the last few weeks had turned the whole morass glutinous It got everywhere: your clothes, your body and even worse it seeped into your bedding so you were never dry It contaminated every mouthful of food and drink you tried to consume So here I was, doing a two man job on my tod, because there was no one else who could be spared to it Still at least I wasn’t in the front line As soon as I reached Vampire I knew they’d let me wash and provide a decent hot brew, with a tot of rum in it I smiled at the thought and then just as quickly snapped my mouth shut That was careless, I might be covered in mud but my teeth weren’t That was one thing our MO was really, really hot on Dental care Trouble was, a flash of white out here was almost as bad as striking a match Mind you, I didn’t have any dry matches on me anyway, not in this A few feet closer now, thank god the spool was lighter now, most of the wire unwound behind me, although not in a straight line That was of course partly deliberate, partly caused by the terrain That was the problem with the Hun, they had a firm that made damned good lenses, their binoculars and telescopes were just too good I constantly heard the divisional staff officers complaining about how good they were One of the colonels had a captured pair and apparently refused to allow anyone to touch them, let alone use them If the Hun spotted a straight line lying across the mud, such a line had to be a cable, so they’d track down the ends of it and pulverise those points on the maps The idea of being trapped fifteen meters underground with the air running out as the artillery progressively collapsed the bunker just didn’t bear thing about I’d heard a rumour that exactly that had happened to the Trinity bunker two sectors north a couple of weeks ago I shuddered at the thought and quickly froze into stillness again Not a very good idea, such involuntary movements, not a good idea at all It had been quiet here for the last half an hour or so but suddenly the artillery opened up again I heard the ‘tearing linen’ sound as the shells passed overhead, and didn’t immediately duck The ones I could hear were heading east, they were ours and being over a mile behind the front there was little chance of a short round coming down on my head Unlike the poor buggers in the front line, they had far less chance of avoiding anything For them there were very many more ways to die Trouble was, whenever our artillery opened up, theirs would reply and shortly the sounds I would hear would make the tearing linen sound seem tame They say you never hear the shell that gets you but how anyone actually knows that for a fact I don’t know Another few feet closer now, I could actually see the entrance to Vampire now From the western side, in other words from the divisional headquarters side, it looked like a small leanto dugout I knew from the other side, the front line side, it was just a hump in the mud Nondescript was an apt description, it’s very survival depended on it I moved again The flat crack of a bullet passing scant inches above my helmeted head was enough to convince me I’d moved too soon Not a welcome reminder either, now I would have to lie still for even longer, hoping to convince the German sniper he’d imagined the presence of a Tommy here There again, if I stayed still long enough he might be convinced he’d got me The worst thing I wanted him to think would be that he’d missed There was that ripping linen sound again, only this time it was accompanied by a rapidly building whistling sound Shit! Incoming fire, this time it was the Huns returning fire Normally it would have been the signal to burrow into the mud as far as possible but having just been targeted by a sniper I didn’t dare move for fear of drawing his fire again Luckily the incoming shellfire was counter battery; aimed at our own guns even further back from the front I could feel the thump of the distant explosions but none were coming close enough to be concerned about Then there was an almighty crack and a peculiar buzzing sound as shell fragments flew past me Obviously a short round, from the feel of it landing about twenty five yards to the side A small sigh of relief, it had missed me, and probably from the general’s point of view it was more critical it had missed the all important cable I’d strung out behind me too I tentatively raised my head, a bare quarter of an inch at a time, and peered across the slippery surface of the ooze There, right in front of me, only a foot away was a sight I definitely didn’t want to see Sticking up from the mud was a man’s hand, partially decomposed, the flesh blackened under the covering of mud Some poor Tommy had already bought it in this very plot Idly I wondered if it had been Peters, the signaller who disappeared three days earlier but he’d been working in the other direction and, besides, it looked to have been dead longer than three days Graves registration people didn’t get to cover this part of the field very often I shuddered at the thought of that particular job, not the nicest but not the worst either Right next to it was a shiny piece of metal sticking out of the ground The fact that it was shiny told me a very important fact It hadn’t been there for long or it would have been tarnished or buried completely in the mud It was about six inches long, jagged and with razor sharp edges If it had come from the near miss a couple of minutes ago it had missed me by an even smaller margin than I’d realised Suppressing the shudder this time was hard, very hard Again I moved forwards, that strange slithering, half slide, half crawl that left you covered from head to toe in mud but exposed as little of you as possible to the sight of an enemy I knew that about fifteen yards this side of the entrance to the bunker there was an old communications trench, still relatively free of water the last time I’d come this way Another few yards would be enough to reach the relative safety of the trench Checking my bearings for a final time, I could see a regular line in the mud about five yards in front of me, just a slight change in the elevation of the mud Time to make the dash, now breathe, one, two, three, go! Rising slightly higher, the mud still trying to suck me down into its surface, I part crawled, part ran and part slid the intervening distance It felt like an age but was in reality only a couple of seconds The trench was still there, and what’s more, it was still free of water as I scrambled over the edge and dropped down into its welcome apparent safety, the spool of wire still paying out behind me Two minutes later I was climbing down the ladder into the bunker, having given the correct response to the challenge form the sentry Fifteen yards down my feet hit the solid duckboards and I turned only to come face to face with an officer Quickly I drew myself to attention and saluted the captain in front of me, one I hadn’t seen before “Sir!” “My God, man, what on earth have you been doing? You look more like a worm than a soldier No, don’t bother to explain, I can guess Is that the new telephone line? Good.” This guy would have done justice to a machine gun but hearing another voice for the first time in nearly thirteen hours was a treat “Go and get yourself cleaned up and get a brew inside of you, fellow You look like you need it I assume you’ll be returning to division as soon as you can?” “Yes, sir My orders are to wait for darkness though, sir!” “That makes sense.” He smiled “Off you go now.” An hour later I was on my way back, in darkness this time, much easier to move, and while the outward leg had taken nearly thirteen hours, the return was a mere thirty minutes It would have been fifteen but someone lobbed a star shell up in that sector so I ended up just as filthy and dirty, avoiding being silhouetted by it The line I’d run survived for four days this time A record it held for more than a month Real History The battle of Paschendale in the Ypres salient in Flanders during the autumn of 1917 was just as bloody as the Somme offensive the year before The big push from just east of Ypres to the small village, which they named the battle for, covered around seven miles of ground Actually, ground would be a misnomer; sea of mud would be more accurate It is not know just how many soldiers of both sides drowned in shell holes choked with muddy water but several thousand would be a conservative guess The constant shell fire shredded every piece of natural cover and churned the mud into an unrecognisable morass There was no place for men to shelter, to rest, as the trenches were often knee deep and at times chest deep in water You could not get dry nor heat food The only possible answer was to dig Around twelve to fifteen metres below the muddy surface there was a layer of impermeable clay If you dug down to this you could construct surprisingly comfortable and dry bunkers and this is what the British did Special tunnelling companies had been formed early in the war, usually of miners and sewage workers with underground experience Their role was twofold, to dig shelters and bunkers and to mine under the German trenches, pack the tunnels with explosives and blow the Hun to kingdom come The specialist miners were usually older men than their front line counterparts and their job was hard and dangerous The sector described above was served by the One Hundred and Seventy First Tunnelling Company and they dug the Vampire dugout in the autumn of 1917 Vampire was a battalion command post, fifteen metres below the surface of the sea of mud, and was home for nearly fifty men and officers at any one time Serviced by a single timber-lined shaft it was surprisingly spacious When the war ended in 1918 the shaft was back filled and the complex left, like so many others, to rot In February, 2007, an archaeological team excavated the Vampire bunker, finding it in incredibly good condition, the corrugated iron roof and the timber surprisingly well preserved underwater due to the lack of oxygen It remains one of the most remarkable sites from the first world war ever uncovered Communication between command posts in these days before reliable radio, relied on runners and on the telephone The problem with telephones was the reliance on cables, which were of course extremely vulnerable to shellfire, with many cables being cut with extreme regularity and small parties from the signal corps constantly running replacement lines, a difficult and very dangerous job, which had to be done in daylight in order to navigate correctly over the featureless churned surface Forget Me Isle Valera was born of an unnatural union, allowed by desperate parents unable to conceive through conventional means She understands that she’s…different Not quite human in a world controlled by human desires, her sixteenth birthday unearths secrets her family would have preferred to stay concealed beneath the waves of the sea Forget Me is a modern fairy tale of desperation, love, devotion and anguish where the power of the ocean envelops all Corrine Shroud Corrine Shroud lives in the Appalachian rural reaches of Kentucky with her family, her dog Scooper and her cat Jaded She’s a Robinson Scholar and is currently attending the University of Kentucky, majoring in pre-Med Biology and Minoring in Mythology and Folklore Her family is large and loving and she has three younger brothers She lives in a beautiful culture-rich area that has inspired her and that she’s proud of She’s an avid reader and writer and is obsessed with anything of the obscure Corrine’s books can be found at: http://www.bluewoodpublishing.com/Authors/CorrineShroud.php The woman looked at the quivering couple with sad, knowing eyes “What you ask, what you demand of me, does not come easily There is a price.” Miguel Valera licked his lips and cleared his voice, clutching his wife, Anora She shook beneath his fingertips He almost wished they could turn back from the dank cave that housed the ethereal person But it was too late It was his idea, but there was a niggling fear in the back of his mind that told him he shouldn’t be here “We’re willing to pay,” he said He could barely hear his voice over the roar of the waves that lapped against the lip of the cave “I not take money.” Miguel tried not to stare at the pale face with the piercing, sapphire eyes Her hair, woven with shards of pale, sparkling coral, seemed to move around her as if she was submerged in water He was eerily reminded of Medusa’s snakes She wore no clothes, but bits of seaweed were draped around her shoulders like a robe The rest of her body, from the waist down, was in the pool of water at the edge of the cave He could see scales though; hardened plates that trailed a straight line from her stomach, past her cleavage and tickling her neck line This creature that he spoke to…wasn’t human In this age of science he’d found the vestiges of the archaic world She had power; it constricted the air around him He knew she was capable of killing them both and there was a primal air around her He could see the wild in her expression Nothing human in the all-too-human face She waded in the pool of water at the base of the cave A portal to the waves and his land She hadn’t threatened, but the power still surged around him and he and his wife hadn’t dared to venture closer than fifteen or so feet “What is your price, then?” Melody, for that was the mermaid’s name, sighed “It is too steep for you.” She turned and there was a splash from below the pool Miguel caught the barest glimpse of a razor finned tail “Please, we’ll pay anything!” Miguel knew in that instant that he would regret his words as the mermaid looked over her shoulder and narrowed her now greedy, sapphire eyes Outside, the waves slapped harder against the rock, the spray hitting the nape of his neck “Anything?” He shivered at the eagerness in her haunting voice The crying of dolphins, the weeping of rain against the open sea Miguel opened his mouth to take back the foolish words, but his wife finally found the courage to speak up “Yes, anything.” Tears sparkled in her eyes and she wrenched herself away from his protective embrace “We’ve tried everything Prayer failed us—the doctors are useless We don’t have anywhere else to turn.” “She will be a child born of magic—of the sea.” The mermaid gave them a studying look “She will be born to become one of the daughters of the ocean Soulless, in the eyes of you Christians Could you raise her, knowing that?” There was no hesitation as she said, “Yes.” “There is a stronger price You will have her for sixteen years, and then I will claim her for three She will need to know what she is The call of the waters will always haunt her I will allow her to return to land if she desires when the time comes.” Anora blinked and took an involuntary step backward “You’ll take her…?” Melody interrupted her sharply, “On the eve of her sixteenth birthday you must lead her to the edge of the ocean.” Anora bit her lip before she sighed Her shoulders slumped forward and Miguel could see the tears drip down her face “I’ve wanted a child for years God has decided to forsake me I’ve been denied the choice to adopt There’s nothing I can do.” She looked up and her shaking voice took a firmer tone “I’ll accept your conditions.” There was a smile on the mermaid’s lips now, and Miguel noticed for the first time the delicate scales lining her jaw, glittering a perfect shade of teal against the cave walls “Come closer then.” Anora gripped the fringes of her shawl as she obeyed Miguel tried to speak, to move, but his body betrayed him The mermaid looked over his wife and into his eyes, giving him an almost cruel smile, the merest upturn of lips He stared, utterly entranced and helpless, as his wife stepped to the edge of the pool The mermaid’s eyes had brightened in color, becoming two solid jewels The water that surrounded her rippled and rose in waves and lapped against Anora’s boots The mermaid reached out, her hand inches from Anora’s face “There will be no turning away from this.” Anora nodded “I know.” Melody gave a small sigh and leaned in closer “I will watch your heart break I will watch your resolve shatter You will waste away into nothing but a spirit wandering amongst the winds of the sea in the search of the daughter sold to the waters You know this to be your future?” She looked up into the eyes that were only a feet away Such a difference, the depthless blue against the dark brown, that Miguel could not help but wonder at the ethereal light around them both “Anything for the child.” Her voice hardened “My daughter will return to me.” “No one leaves the ocean.” Melody’s voice was sad and lost now, her eyes distant as if she was remembering something “It calls to us more than any other could.” Miguel could hear the roar of the waters increase outside and a gust of wind stirred from the mouth of the cave, carrying the sound of sea gulls and the heavy scent of salt Anora’s breath caught in her throat and Miguel watched her eyes widen as the breeze wrapped around her and the mermaid Melody placed her lips on her forehead and an emerald light emitted from between them, flickering against the caves walls Anora began to shake and the water around Melody rose He watched the mermaid wrap her arms around her and then his vision was blurred completely by the iridescent light that enveloped them When the light faded, Anora was on her knees, and she was alone Miguel stumbled forward as he was released from the spell and immediately made his way to Anora “Are you alright?” He asked her softly as he helped her up Anora looked up at him, but instead of the dark brown eyes that he’d fallen in love with, the dark blue eyes of the mermaid stared at him “You have one night, Miguel.” 16 years later “Isle? Are you even listening?” Isle Valera jumped, her eyes leaving the view of the ocean rather reluctantly The wind whistled through her cracked car window, allowing a small spray of salty water to hit her arm She could almost hear a song in the air that was trapped within the small interior of the car Isle shook her head and turned her thoughts away from her dream from the night before and looked over to her mother “Yeah?” Her mother’s worried expression turned back to the view of the road It was raining as they drove past the foggy beach, the winding road leading the way to Isle’s school “Is there something wrong? It seems that you’re a little sidetracked today.” Isle rolled her eyes like the best sixteen year old could and said, “I’m fine, Mom Geez, you’re such a worrywart.” She returned her attention to the view outside her raindropsplattered window The beach was slowly disappearing from view, and Isle couldn’t help but feel saddened She couldn’t put a finger on it, but there was something different in the air today She could feel a tension lingering about her, along her skin She’d dreamt of the waves hitting against the ocean rocks again She could still feel the water on her skin, but she’d been unable to see past her waist There’d been something so different, yet so…right…about the way she’d felt The singing that had accompanied the dream was beyond anything she’d ever heard in real life She’d cried when the dream had ended “Isle, this is very important.” Her mother’s tone broke her concentration from the haunting dream “What’s wrong?” “No matter what, please wait for me to pick you up from school today.” Her mom sounded worried, her voice pensive “Don’t go to the beach like normal.” “Why? Ryan was going to take me walking.” “A storm’s coming I don’t want the tide to carry you out.” “You know I can handle myself When haven’t I gone to the beach after school? Right before a storm is one of the best times to comb Ryan and I always it.” “Bring Ryan home with you today Today is special and just maybe we’ve got something planned for the person who makes it special.” Her mother winked Isle did another eye roll “You’re a riot That wasn’t at all inconspicuous.” The car lurched to a stop and she looked over, giving her mother a smile to let her know she was joking “I’ll see you tonight.” She didn’t return the smile; her eyes remained sad and worried “I’ll be about a half an hour late, but you can stay in the library until I get off work Promise me.” Again, Isle was struck with the feeling that was something was bothering her mom She tried to shrug it off as she said, “I promise, Mom.” “I love you, Isle.” Isle opened the door to the car “I love you too.” “Happy sixteenth birthday.” Isle didn’t answer as she shut the door and consciously tucked her black hair behind her ear She didn’t watch her mother drive away, turning toward the sea of people that swept into the looming brick high school Nobody paid her any attention, though she preferred it that way She often felt overwhelmed and swept asunder, like a ship lost in a storm The others thought her too odd; she’d never fitted in “Isle!” She turned to watch Ryan, her best friend for three years, try to catch up to her It wasn’t difficult for him The students parted as if they were the Red Sea in the hands of Moses They tended to avoid her friend because of his dark clothes, spiked hair and multiple piercings She laughed silently at that If they only knew; Ryan was as soft as a plush teddy bear “What are you smiling about?” he asked when he’d made his way to her Isle choked back a laugh and shook her head “Nothing, Ry You wouldn’t get it.” He arched a pierced eyebrow “I wouldn’t? Oh, must be some girl thing.” “Yes Some girl thing.” “Hey, don’t betray me now.” He put a hand to his chest and pretended to swoon “You’ve spent three years not acting like a normal girl, don’t let being sixteen get to your head.” She stuck her tongue out at him “What’s so special about being sixteen, anyhow?” Ryan draped an arm over her shoulders and helped her push through the students to get to her locker “It’s a rite of passage Ya’ know, sweet sixteen and all that? This is important for American girls This is where you become a woman.” He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye “My baby girl is growing up so fast.” Isle rolled her eyes “What did you smoke this morning? You’re more random today than normal.” “Must be the full moon.” He winked again “After all, Bride of Frankenstein, you were born on Halloween How often are you going to get a full moon on your birthday? You know that it has as much control over the human mind as it does the tides, right?” Isle cleared her voice, fighting the unknown chill that had run down her spine when he’d said the word tides Honestly, what was with her today? “Hey, I got you something.” His voice, both eager and subdued, brought her back from her troubled thoughts “Ryan, I thought we agreed, no presents.” “This isn’t the first time I’ve lied, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.” Isle decided to keep her sarcastic comment to herself as Ryan opened his side pack and got out a sea green silk box He handed it to her and took a step back For the first time, Isle realized that her friend was nervous He was messing with one of his spikes, chewing at the edge of his pierced lip The movements were subconscious, but she knew him well Why hadn’t she noticed that before? She shook her head and unwrapped the cerulean silk ribbon Ryan grabbed the ribbon from her hand and moved behind her to tie back her hair The movement seemed so natural—Ryan was always playing with her hair—that she didn’t think anything of it The box opened to a polished green and pink shell that had a small black pearl resting in the center The shell was on a thick silver chain “Ryan…” “Hmm?” “How much did this cost?” “Don’t worry about it, Isle,” he said as he reached over her shoulder and grabbed the box “I’ve been saving up for it.” “But, Ryan…” she began to stammer as Ryan looped the necklace around her head and pulled her hair out from beneath the chain “Just think about it,” he said “Just think about what?” Ryan turned her around until she was facing him He kissed her cheek and hugged her “This.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed it before turning around and walking away Isle swallowed, and looked into the open locker where she had a mirror hanging up The blue ribbon he’d tied in her hair brought out the bluish tint that only natural black hair could claim The ribbon matched her ethereal eyes They were piercing blue, a color that neither of her parents could claim She’d never asked them about whose child she really was, but she knew that there was something different about her It was something she’d come to accept The shell nestled perfectly between her breasts against the soft cotton of her light blue shirt Ryan had taken a step she’d realized was coming a few weeks ago, but she was afraid She’d never felt like she belonged There was always something in the edge of her mind that called her; there’d never been anything to anchor her to the realm of the land Ryan had become her only friend, but what if that was ruined by stupid teen hormones? Isle took one more look at her eyes that matched the iridescent ribbon, ebony hair and high cheekbones, before she turned away and slammed her locker shut Whoever said beauty bought you popularity had obviously never met her She was utterly alone and the necklace she wore seemed more like an iron weight than a piece of jewelry **** “Isle? What are you doing here? Aren’t we going to leave?” Isle looked up from the book she’d started reading “I promised Mom I would wait for her She said she’d be about half an hour late.” Ryan frowned “I was really looking forward to spending some time alone with you on your sixteenth birthday If your Mom is late, then why don’t we just go ahead and walk? It’s not but like a twenty minute walk to your house anyhow Your mom will never miss you.” Isle bit her lip “It’s raining.” “I’ve got an umbrella Besides, when has that ever stopped us?” “She’ll kill me.” Ryan rolled his eyes and did his impression of a gay man’s flip of the hand “Please, girlfriend No mother would ever kill the birthday girl.” Isle smiled in spite of herself “I dunno.” “Come on, where’s the harm in it?” Ryan held out his hand and she hesitated She knew the real reason he wanted to walk alone with her, and she was both excited and nervous about it What harm would it do? She really wanted to see the ocean today After another moment of hesitation, she smiled and grasped his hand A small smile lingered on his lips before he led her out of the library and through the doors to outside The rain instantly pelted them until he opened his umbrella and offered her his arm Isle linked her arm through his and he gave her a bow, making her laugh “Milady.” “You idiot.” “I may be an idiot, but you choose to be around me.” Isle shook her head as they started to walk “I never said I was sane.” “I never did either.” Isle didn’t respond and a silence that wasn’t entirely comfortable fell between them as they made their way down the road She stared straight ahead, almost dazed as the wind whipped against her and Ryan In the back of her mind she could almost imagine someone singing, her voice carried by the salt-filled gusts so that only she could hear “Isle, are you alright?” Ryan snapped his fingers in front of her face and she jumped, startled “Yeah.” She cleared her voice “Yeah I’m fine.” She hadn’t realized how long they’d walked The ocean was in sight and the rain had increased against the material of the umbrella, giving a rhythmic patter “You seem distant Look, I’m sorry if what I said this morning upset you.” “No, no,” Isle cleared her voice “That’s not it.” “It’s not?” “No…” Isle tucked her damp hair behind her ear “I’ve given it thought.” “That doesn’t bode well.” “You have to promise me that no matter what happens, a relationship won’t compromise our friendship.” Ryan paused and looked down at her “I can’t promise you that, Isle.” She returned her gaze “Why not?” “Because, no matter what, our friendship has become more than a friendship for me.” Ryan leaned forward “You have been with me for more than three years When I moved here, I saw how alone and lost you were and I wanted to fix that You don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re not normal? It’s plain for me to see It doesn’t scare me either.” He coughed “I’ve wanted to ask you out for over a year now I waited to make sure that you shared my feelings, and I know you do.” “Ryan, I—” Her words were cut off as he kissed her He paused, his lips resting against hers, as he waited for her reaction She closed her eyes and returned his kiss, allowing him to hug her against him Around them the wind jerked at the umbrella and she could hear the sea gulls crying Beneath that, eerie singing “You have no idea how happy I am,” Ryan whispered against her ear He snuggled his face into her hair, but Isle barely noticed “I know you’re nervous, but I’ve loved you since I moved here and you told me that my pierced ear made me look gay.” Isle Her eyes widened The song had words now, something distant and in an ancient language Her name, though, Isle knew was being called “Did you hear that?” Ryan’s smile faltered, his eyes furrowing in confusion “Hear what, Isle?” “My name Somebody called my name.” Ryan looked up, squinting past the rain “Isle, nobody called your name.” She barely heard him The singing had grown louder and she could nearly make out the words The sound was horrifically sad but full of longing She felt the voice singing, clutching around her heart Isle dropped to her knees, her hands clenched against her chest She clung to the necklace Ryan had bought her Isle screamed, the words drowning her She could almost feel the water in her lungs “Isle!” Ryan bent down beside her and put the umbrella down The rain pelted her, wetting her shirt and skin “Isle, what’s wrong? Please, tell me what’s wrong!” “You don’t hear her?” Her voice was cracked, barely heard over the gusts of wind The storm had worsened within the last matter of seconds and Isle could make out waves crashing against the beach She could barely see the cove that housed the cave where she’d played ever since she was little The song It was from there the song came from “Isle, I don’t hear anything except the wind Come on, I’ll get you home It’s time to go home.” It’s time to go home The voice agreed, but there was a different home The words in the song told her where that was She felt the water lapping against her skin, could feel the woman calling her waiting in the pool at the edge of the cave She was the one singing The words in the song told her what she was What she truly was Isle stood, her tears mixing with the rain on her face “Ryan…” her voice choked in her throat There was nothing she could say He would never forgive her for what she was going to Still, the song persisted Her mother was calling her home “I love you, but I will not this to you.” Ryan said something, but it was caught up in the wind and song Isle could not hear it She shook her head “Forget me.” The words heavily in the air, and she watched a dim recognition light in his eyes It splintered her heart to see him hurt, but a call greater than love beckoned “Isle?” She didn’t answer Instead she backed out of his embrace and, running away from the road, headed down the sandy embankment She could hear Ryan yelling after her, but his voice was carried away on the roaring waves that leapt to welcome her home The waves crashed into her, soaking her clothes, but they did not knock her down She waved her hand and the waters around her calmed She felt the powers at the edge of her call Energy that humans had never offered her The only price was her soul, something she’d never honestly possessed Was that so much to lose? The wind around her calmed, now only playing with her hair “Isle, what the hell are you doing?” She turned toward Ryan, waiting at the edge of the rocks “She’s waiting for me in the caves.” Ryan’s voice faltered for a moment before he yelled, “You know how dangerous the cave is in a storm.” She studied her friend for a moment He was soaked, and the waves hit against him, making him stumble There was an angry tinge to the energy around her now “It is dangerous for you, Ryan, but not for me You were right I’m not normal I belong in the water I don’t expect you to understand.” She didn’t wait for a response as she turned back toward the cave and entered without hesitation The wind was instantly cut off and Isle could only hear it as she wandered deeper into the cave Lights lit the wall, but there were no flames—just steady pale orbs The water in the pool at the back of the cave was calm and a woman waited at the edge of it Isle could not see past her waist as it was still submerged in water “You’ve lived the life of a human for long enough.” Isle bit her lip “Who are you?” “Melody I was the power that your parents sought when they could not have children You are my child.” Isle stepped closer and Melody lifted herself out of the water and onto the edge of a rock overhanging the pool of water She had no legs, instead there was a long tail edged by razor fins The tail was more serpentine than Isle would have expected, long and narrow with rainbow scales The fins were black and silver, matching the mermaid’s hair Algae clung to her skin, but that was all she wore and the transition from skin to scales was smooth and unmarred “Did you hear my call?” The woman’s voice was both beautiful and cruel, and there was a bestial air about her that terrified Isle Still, there was something in the tone that was as much comfort as fear She swallowed “I did.” “Return with me Shed what is human and step into the water.” Melody lifted a finger that was webbed and thin “But be warned, the pain of losing humanity is not something to take idly.” There was no hesitation as Isle began to strip away her clothes Her hand lingered on the necklace and she bit her lip before leaving it to rest on her bare skin She took Melody’s waiting hand and the mermaid led her into the water “Isle…” Ryan’s broken voice trailed off Isle paused, thigh deep in the water, but didn’t look back Her toes rested against the drop off in the water She was only one step from completely sinking into the depths “Forget me, Ryan.” “Please…” Isle ignored him and took the final step Instead of sinking, the water confined her, squeezing her, keeping her waist deep in the water She screamed, the pain of her legs melding together enough pain to push away any lingering thoughts or regrets Dimly, she heard Ryan’s cry of horror Then, there was nothing Years Later The storm had returned, mocking him as it did each anniversary There was a difference though For the first time since he’d begun to wait for Isle’s return, he was alone She was supposed to return on her nineteenth birthday The mermaid was supposed to let her go Since then it had been too much for her parents to bear Her father had died in the fourth year Her mother had died only the previous year They both passed on the anniversary, and each time by something the doctors could only explain as a broken heart Sometimes Ryan could still hear Anora’s voice along the ocean wind, sobbing her daughter’s name Still, it was that day of the year Halloween The day that was Isle’s birthday Each year was another splinter in his heart Each year was another year that he spent in isolation, dreaming of the only person he’d ever loved Outside, he could barely make out the town clock’s bells Each chime sent a chill down his spine It was no longer All Hallows Eve, the night where the barrier between his world and the world that Isle had become a part of blurred and converged It was the only time she could return and free them both It was midnight, the end of the day when Isle could have returned “Isle.” The words choked in his mouth and he wiped tears away Outside, the storm howled Water leaked into the cave, coating the stones and making them slick “Why would you leave us?” He fought his urge to scream “I don’t understand I thought you loved me.” His voice rose, matching the wind outside “You told me you loved me.” “I do.” Ryan turned around to see the woman at the edge of the water She wore nothing, her black hair reaching past her waist Seaweed clung to her arms and stomach, and he could see the scales that decorated the transition between human and animal The fins that rested above the water were light pink and green, the scales a darker blue that matched the ribbon tied in her hair He recognized the ribbon; he’d tied it in her hair seven years ago His eyes scanned her cleavage line and caught the barest glimpse of a shell hanging from a silver chain from beneath her hair “Isle?” There were some facial features he recognized, but there was nothing left of the girl he’d fallen in love with All that remained was beautiful, fierce and tainted “I not go by that name, Ryan.” Her voice was different, as sharp as the water slapping away the rocks in the bay Completely wild “What name, then?” The smile Isle gave him was sad “Anora said you would have a choice Why didn’t the mermaid let you go?” “She did I made my choice four years ago.” Ryan took a step backward “Why?” he demanded “Why would you choose this over the ones who loved you?” His voice became angry “I watched your parents waste away, Isle! I’ve waited for you for seven years!” The mermaid—Ryan could not think of her as Isle—frowned Her voice, still archaic and tight with power, was unapologetic when she said, “I’m not leaving the water I came here to tell you to forget me.” “If I can’t?” Ryan walked over and touched her wet cheek She met his gaze with pupilless blue eyes The color was the same as his memories of Isle, but not the expression in them There was something purely primal in her now Something he knew he couldn’t compete against It was the happiest he’d ever seen her The mermaid nodded her head and finally gave a smile that carried a shade of the Isle he remembered “You will.” Ryan could almost see the tears against her cheeks, but they were taken in by the water that clung to her skin Isle reached out and kissed his forehead In the next moment she was gone, moving faster than his eyes could catch There was nothing he could Ryan felt himself fade, the world brightening around the edges… Waking hours later, he found a necklace around his neck, made from a pale pink and blue shell with a black pearl in its center On the cave floor beside him rested a slip of seaweed with darkened words It was tied in a roll by a cerulean ribbon Stray strands of hair from the wearer still clung to the ribbon He opened the letter with shaking hands He hoped that it would reveal a promise or at least an explanation, but it remained with only two words Forget Me The End We hope you enjoyed these stories Please check back regularly to our web site, for new releases from these and of course, our other authors who we were unable to fit into our collection, this time round .. .Bluewood Anthology 2011 By: Various Authors ISBN: 978-1-927134-69-6 All rights reserved Copyright © Nov 2011, Deborah McNemar, Tony Butler, Dan Strawn,... © Nov 2011, Brightling Spur Bluewood Publishing Ltd Christchurch, 8441, New Zealand www.bluewoodpublishing.com Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author? ??s... within these pages All of the authors included are published authors, and should you be interested in other work by certain authors we have included a hyperlink to their author pages on our site All