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Watching the big truck being unloaded at the grocery store, she wondered if they had set someone out there on purpose to watch for her. There was an older man who was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, very unprofessional looking if you asked her. But he would yell at her to get her ass away every time she got within touching the truck. All she wanted was a light meal.
She discovered that she had no way of cooking any kind of meat that she could steal. Nor did she have a can opener that would get in a nice hot cup of soup when she’d stolen a case of tomato soup. Even the homeless place, the one place she knew was giving out meals, wouldn’t allow her inside. She not only stank, but they’d been told not to allow her to eat even a crumble of food. She was going to kill those fucking Tuckers if it was the last thing she did.
Dropping to the ground when she heard her name being called through the air made her sick to her belly. It hurt to be demanded to come to her king. And worse yet, she wasn’t going to be any happier when he pulled her in front of him. Like she’d been told a thousand times, she didn’t smell good and wherever he was taking her to, she wasn’t going to smell any better there either.
When she started feeling like she was being turned inside out, Cybil screamed. Her throat was raw by the time she felt the magic release her. Sitting on all fours, Cybil tried to think beyond the pounding in her head that seemed to be a constant reminder that she was starving. When told to stand, Cybil tried her best to oblige, but she was still hurting. Even if she wanted to, she didn’t think that she could remove her shoes much less stand up and be accounted for.
“Cybil? Can you hear me?” She called the person a mother fucker. “I’m going to assume that’s a yes. I’ve called you here to pay for the laws you’ve broken over the last fifty or so years since you’ve been alive. My name is Ronan Foster. This is my queen and wife, Brook Foster. We are your king and queen of Lions.”
“I don’t care if you’re god himself. What the hell right do you have to pull me away from what I was doing?” He told her that he had every right and that watching a truck being unloaded wasn’t all that important. “Well, a lot you know. I was hoping for a nice steak and a hot baker. Christ, don’t you have anything else to do but annoy people?” Glancing up at him made her ill again. “Stand still, you mother fucker. I’m hurting from you calling for me. I don’t know why you didn’t just send a nice limo or something. You shithead, you hurt me.”
“No, you’re not going to be brought anywhere in a limo. And I do what I want when I want to. As for making you come here as painfully as I could, it satisfies me in so many ways that you’ll never understand. If you’re done blabbering about how you’ve been interrupted today, I’ll get to the reason you’ve been brought here. But first, the queen of the fae has something that she wishes to say to you. She, too, will put judgment against you for the harm and murder of her fae creatures. Stand to be judged.”
She had no choice in the matter but to do what he said. The queen or whatever she was sure was a sparkly thing. When she waved her hand, just a simple gesture like that, a million of the little bugs that she ruled fanned out behind her.
“You have murdered more of my kind than anyone else has ever done in all your lifetime.” Cybil asked her why that mattered. “Because without the fae being there, you would not exist. Nor would the world have as much magic as it does now.”
“Magic hasn’t done me a lot of good if you want to know the truth. So what, they’re dead. It’s not like I can bring them back. Do you worst on me.” She nodded, and one of the little creatures flew to face her. “Don’t get too close, little one. I’ve not eaten in a long time, and you look to be a nice snack.” Snapping her teeth at the thing only got her growled out. Cybil didn’t care. She was ready for just about everything.
“You will live and die for as many fae you have killed.” Cybil looked around and then back at the fae before asking what the hell she was talking about. It was then that the little creature drew a long, thin blade from the air and ran at her, hitting her in the chest with it.
Cybil was sick with pain. But each time she fell backward, her body abused by one after the other creatures ramming something through her heart, eyes, and throat, she would fall back and bleed out. Or, with her heart, she’d only just die. Only to be brought back to start again.
“Enough.” The queen raised her hand and then lowered it when the horde of fae just disappeared. “I’m not finished with you, Cybil, but I must leave a bit for the others to get their piece of you. Rise up.”
She did. This time, it was harder than the first time. Her body was covered in blood. Some of it was fresh, others dark with age. While she didn’t know how long she’d been subject to the things that had happened to her, she knew that she wasn’t going to take much more.
“What gives you the right to treat me like this? I’m a lion and one of your shifters.” Adonna said that she was nothing to her. Not even a thought in her mind would she be when she left the grounds. “So says you. What else do you have for me? As you can see, I still stand. You didn’t hurt me at all.”
A lie. Every word of it was a lie. When the queen lion stood before her, Cybil tried her best to act as if she had nothing to fear from her either. But she was terrified. This woman looked like she might be all sweet and nice, but there was something about her that Cybil thought evil-minded.
“There are four people that I am here to avenge for them. Caroline wanted to do it, but she is going to give you the final blow that will end you for all time.” Cybil said she’d never be able to kill her own mother. “You think no? Well, I guess we’ll see about that, won’t we? The first cut is for your in-laws, Martha and James. You killed the two of them while they were holding your daughter in their arms. You used your own child as a distraction. You will have two strikes for that.”
Her hands were just gone. From the wrists down, she bled profusely while trying her best to stop the flow. In a matter of seconds, less she’d bet the bleeding stopped. Cybil knew it was because they still had killing to do of her. The next time she was hit with magic from Brook, she lost both arms.
Standing was nearly impossible, but she did. Cybil wasn’t going to give them anything to show that they were harming her. When she was ordered to stand up, not realizing that she’d fallen over, she stood as best she could while her lifeblood slipped away slower and slower.
Her daughter stood before her now. “You killed my father. What did he do to you but to give you more than he had? Nothing. He spoiled you, and you tossed it all back in his face when he wanted to have another child. He hoped for a boy this time.” She couldn’t speak. Her body was nearly drained of all liquid, mostly her blood, and she was dizzy with it. Cybil was asked if she had anything to say about her punishment, and she couldn’t even work up enough to spit in her daughter’s face. Christ, she hated her and everyone else that was standing around.
“Goodbye, Cybil.” The breeze was a small one that smelled of smoky cooking. Of cookouts that her daughter used to love when she was smaller. As her head rolled forward, front over back, and then sideways, Cybil could see her body still standing with the bits and pieces that she was able to see. It wasn’t a sight that she was happy to look at. Even if she detached herself from the fact that it was her body, it was still a sight that she couldn’t stomach. Then she wondered, quite out of the blue, how one threw up when one’s stomach was no longer attached to your head and mouth.
~~~
No one seemed to be all that hungry. The kids, now out in the heated pool, were having a good time, and there were snacks, not all of them good for them, laid out on several tables. Georgie watched all the kids and wondered how they could look so much alike without being at all related. But then she knew that her sister-in-law was there too. Some of her features had come through. She wished she could have met the woman, but it was too late for that now to happen. The lounger she was sitting on moved, and she turned to find Lance sitting beside her.
“You’ve made a decision, I take it.” She asked him if he meant about the kids. “I do. You’re going to give them up for adoption so that Denver and Bailee can raise them. Right?”
“I don’t want to take them from the only stable home they’ve known only to drop them into our life, which is far from stable as yet.” He nodded and didn’t look hurt like she thought he would. “You and I will have children if you want. Or we can adopt some, too. I’m in no hurry if you’re not. I do, however, enjoy practicing making them. Christ, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
“Thank you. I really needed to hear that about now. I was just thinking about Caroline and her dealing the deathblow to her mother. I think I would have been able to do that, knowing what I do about their relationship.” Lance told her that it had been building up for a long time. Then he told her about how she’d treated her son. “I heard him talking to the other kids about it. None of them have had a good life, it seems. They’re going to be all right, I think. Simply because in this family, they’ll be loved and cared for.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” She smiled at him, and he grinned. “That is what I was hoping for. A good smile from you.” He picked her up and put her on his lap, and laid back on the chair. “It’s been a rough few weeks, and I, for one, will be glad for some normality so that we can enjoy each other.”
“If you were to enjoy me anymore, I’d be dead.” He laughed, like she’d caught him off guard at her comment. “But seriously, I do want to talk to you about a couple of things. I have an apartment full of stuff that I’d like to bring here. Not a lot. Just some albums, the musical kind, not photos. I do have a lot of those, too. I don’t need the clothing there, so I can donate it to some sort of charity. The furniture is just stuff that I picked up second-hand here and there. I’m not worried about that either.”
“We can go anytime you want to sort through it. Or we can have it packed up and brought here so that you can go through it when you have time.” She didn’t want to bring it here, or she’d never get around to sorting it. “That’s what I did when we moved here. I was packing up the dishes that I’d had since college, and I took a look at them. They were, for the most part, all right, but they were chipped and in terrible shape. Not that I cared if they matched or not, but I think they were hand-me-downs from Denver when he moved into his apartment a few years ago. So I called the local charity, donated everything, including a few suits that I wore to death, and have been getting myself new things as I realized that I needed them.”
“That’s an excellent plan. That’s what I’ll do. But for my records and albums.” He assured her that they could make an afternoon of it and go there to get her items. “Thank you. I would have been sorting through that stuff for days and would have come to the same conclusion. I can’t thank you enough for making it easier for me.”
