Mad Woman Rambles

Mermaids are Real!

“Auntie Calily, mermaids are real!” Izzy exclaimed, jumping up and down.

“Uh-huh,” I replied, my head bobbing up and down in time with the enthusiastic 7-year-old. I looked up at her harried mother, my friend, Natalie, who followed her into the living room. “Mermaids?”

Natalie stopped short just behind her hyperactive daughter and shook her head as she flopped down into the armchair across from me. With a sigh, she waved at her daughter, who was still bouncing up and down in front of me, “Yes, Isabella met a mermaid and decided to go on an adventure.”

“An adventure? With a mermaid? Do tell,” I implored, trying to hide my chuckle as I beckoned my play-niece to me. She rushed over to me, taking my hands–her eyes glittering with excitement.

“I was on the beach, and Wolfie kept looking in the water. I told him to come back so I could bury him in the sand. But he wouldn’t come. He just kept staring and staring and staring and staring. I marched over there and pulled him by his collar, but he wouldn’t move,” Izzy blurted out in a one-breath story.

“Okay,” I replied, as the wiry child hopped onto my lap. I wrapped my arms around the little girl who gleefully swung her red cowgirl boot-clad feet, then paused.

“Then I saw it,” Izzy continued, her expression turning serious as she turned around to face me.

“What? What did you see?” I asked, mock intrigue plastered on my face before glancing over at Natalie and winking. She rolled her eyes as Izzy continued.

“It was a shiny she-shell. I mean sea-sell. I mean s-e-a s-h-e-ll. Yeah, sea sell. You know what I mean. I looked at it in the water, but I couldn’t see it so good.” She leaned in closer, moving my hair away from her ear, cupping her hand, she whispered, “I went into the water to see better.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed, nodding with understanding that Izzy was not supposed to go into the water by herself. Izzy glanced over at her mother to see if she heard our secret. The look on Natalie’s face confirmed that she had and did not approve.

Izzy nodded briefly, glancing at her mother again before she continued. “I heard this song.” Izzy began humming the melody. “And I went further into the water. The shiny sea-sell kept moving away, but I wasn’t going to let it get away. I kept going and going, and the water kept getting higher and higher. I could hear Wolfie barking, and I was going to tell him to be quiet, but then I swallowed some water.”

“Oh, no! Are you okay?” I was truly concerned at hearing that part. I looked over at Natalie, who struggled to keep the strain off her face. I could tell Natalie felt guilty for not watching her more closely. “You know that isn’t safe to do,” I chastised Izzy.

Izzy nodded. “Uh huh. I know. Daddy saved me.” She made a big arm movement as if pulling something up out of something. “Daddy picked me up so I could breathe. I saw her then.”

“Saw who, sweetheart?” I asked taken aback by the whole story.

“The mermaid. She peeked her head up out of the water. Then she was gone,” Izzy finished moving her unruly curls out of her face.

“Oh, are you going to stop there, little elf?” Natalie asked her daughter, who ducked her head at the chiding.

“There’s more?” I asked in disbelief.

“Oh, yes, there is more,” Natalie replied as Izzy found her hands really interesting all of a sudden. “Mmm hmmm.”

“Now I am dying of suspense. What happened?” I asked, tickling the little girl in my arms, trading my gaze between the mother-daughter duo. When Izzy shook her head–her cheeks turning pink–Natalie continued with the story.

“Uh huh. Well, later that day, when we were at the pier, someone got a bright idea.” Natalie cut a look at her daughter, who ducked her head beneath my arm. “She stood on the end of the pier, took a deep breath, and jumped into the ocean below. You can imagine how shocked we were, and how scared.”

“Mom, I didn’t mean to scare you and Daddy,” Izzy protested.

“Apparently, she was determined to go in the water and get answers, no matter what it took,” Natalie explained. “When we were able to recover her from the water, she regaled us with a fanciful tale of the mermaid who looked like her but with long braids. She kissed her so she could breathe underwater. They swam around, and she gave her a treasure before returning her to the surface, where we could find her,” Natalie finished.

“What did she give you?” I asked Izzy, definitely curious. Izzy grinned and pushed her sleeve up to reveal a shimmering gold bracelet woven around an aquamarine stone. I also noticed that her skin shimmered in the light that resembled makeup in the pattern of fine scales. “Wow!”

“Exactly, the bracelet won’t come off, nor will the scales on her arm,” Natalie sighed. “All because…”

“Mermaids are real!” mother and daughter said in unison.

January 3, 2026

fairies, fantasy, fiction, funny, mermaids, short-story, supernatural, urban fantasy, vampires, witches, writing
Krystal’s Captivity

Day 2:

“Marcus!” I yelled from my damp, dank dungeon cell. That writhing slime of a maggot! I know he can hear me. I will figure out how to get back at him for not letting me go. I’ll wipe that smug look off his face. He comes back to my cell, looks me up and down, laughs, and says: ‘Two more days should soften you up’. Then he turns on his heel and walks away.

OOOOOOO! I am so mad I could spit. That’s if I could produce any saliva. I am really thirsty. I guess I should have stopped yelling sooner. It doesn’t seem to have any effect on these vampires.  I can really put my foot in my mouth sometimes. But how was I supposed to know that using Dacar’s name would get me thrown in here? That was literally one of the only things I could tell Korbin. This coercion spell is diabolical.

I hope my cat, Max, is alright. What am I saying! Of course, that lazy layabout is alright.  Sometimes I wish he was a dog like Lassie. Then he could go to someone and tell them I need help. ‘My human has been captured and is being held by vampires. Please follow me, and I will lead you to her.’ Fat chance that is going to happen here.

Fortunately, they can’t hold me for longer than three days without charging me. Hells, they would need to let the Supernatural Oversight Board (S.N.O.B.) know they are holding me. I am a card-carrying member of the Supernatural Alliance League. Their dues are steep, but it does give us privileges that others don’t have. Oh, for the seven Hells of Juda! Why didn’t I think of that before?! I will just summon my representative.

“Marcus!” I yell again. “Get my SNOB representative on the phone, now!” I demand and stomp my foot. Melodic laughter responds to my outburst.

“Great Jeva, girl, you are so noisy,” Old Mary said, shuffling along the corridor with a tray of food.

“Ms. Mary,” I sighed in relief. “Finally, someone with compassion. Can you help me out?” I pleaded. She frowned at me; it looked so unnatural on her wizened face that usually bears a silent smile.

“Child, you know I can’t let you out,” she paused to open the cell and hand me my food. She sighed and patted my face. “No matter how much I like you, they both would be cross with me if I let you go.”

I melted against the warmth of her hand on my face. For an old vampire, she always seemed to retain the warmth of when she was alive. The funny thing about her is that I never get glimpses of her life or her afterlife. She has always been a blissful void for my gifts. Whenever she offered her touch or hugs, I greedily took them. That should tell me something about myself, but I choose not to go there.

“Can you at least get word to my SNOB representative, then? You know if Marcus and Korbin don’t do it by tomorrow, there will be trouble for the Kiss,” I reasoned with the sensible woman.

She shook her head and sighed heavily, “You children will be the death of me. I will see what I can.” I jumped up and down with excitement to have at least one ally in this godsforsaken place. She cut me a look that had me halting mid-jump. I stopped and looked down sheepishly. “I make no promises, child.”

“I get it. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I know you will get through to their thick skulls,” I quipped excitedly as she shuffled out of the cell and closed it behind her.

She looked back at me, shaking her head, “Eat your food. I will see if Cecelia has finished the treats and have one sent down to you.” She glanced at me one last time and nodded as I stuffed a fork full of rice into my mouth. Smiling around my mouth full of food, I watched her walk away. Finally, I would get the help I needed.

‘Old Mary definitely has both Korbin and Marcus’ ears. She will get through to them.’ I think as I shovel more of the delicious food into my mouth. Old Mary was looking out for me today. Everything is coming up, Krystal!

December 27, 2025

fantasy, fiction, funny, psychics, short-story, supernatural, urban fantasy, vampires, writing
Krystal’s Captivity

Happy Holidays to all! I hope everyone can find some joy this time of year. I will be celebrating Yule and doing all the fun Christmas activities. No matter what you celebrate or don’t celebrate, may the sun’s light find you on your darkest day.

Day 1:

‘This is what I get for helping the Fae! Here I am, Krystal Waters, stuck in a dirt-floor dungeon. I am filthy, icky, and… Oh My Gods! What is that smell?!’ I scream mentally because screaming out loud had gotten me nowhere. Stupid vampires!

‘When I get out of here, the sign over my shop door will read, ‘Figure it out yourself’. No more help from me, that’s for sure.’ I affirm to myself with a huff. I pace around the cell, arms crossed, refusing to feel sorry for myself. Anger coursing through every fiber of my being.

‘This is why I prefer to be alone. So I don’t have to be bothered by anyone but my family,’ I huff again, kicking a rock in my path. Then immediately swearing as my toe loses the battle against the rock.

‘Something told me to just give that fae girl the lodestone and be done with her. Oh, but no. Not you, Krystal. You had to go and feel bad for her because she was helpless and far from home. Now you are stuck here, and Korbin is being petty about vampire laws. It is not my fault that his people can’t be trusted. Trafficking with the fae. Unheard of, really. ‘I throw up my hands, exasperated by all the events leading up to today.

‘Okay, okay. Get a grip, Krystal! I will just plead my case to Korbin. He has to listen to me. I was not trying to help his brother. I was just trying to help that fae girl. Dang it! He has to listen to me. It’s not like he doesn’t know me. Intimately…’

The thought trails off as flashes of us tangled in the sheets, sweaty and happy, replace the rising panic. My body shivers, still feeling his fingers caressing places that haven’t been touched in a long while. My brief daydream is interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching.

“Food,” the vampire says as he unlocks my door and pushes the tray along the floor. I look on in disgust at the selection of some of the healthiest food I have seen in my lifetime. The vampire smirks and exits, slamming my prison door behind him.

“WTH?! I can’t eat any of that!” I shout after the vamp. “You tell Korbin I want real food or else,” my shout quickly dies down as the vamp returns almost instantaneously. These bastards are so damn fast it’s insane how they move.

“Listen here, blondie, you will eat what we give you. Besides, you could stand to lose a few pounds,” he replied, eyeing me through the bars of my cell. His laughter bounced all around the cell as he took in the shock on my face.

“You dirty bitch,” I whisper, knowing full well he would hear me. How dare he talk about my weight?! He could have called me names, threatened me or my cat but calling me fat? Oh, that crosses a line! I am a healthy weight and refuse to diet. That is probably why I even have curves at all. Unlike my sister, who is just all height and lean muscle.

“What did you say?!” he barked at me.

“You heard me! How dare you call me fat! I am a healthy weight, I will have you know. You would be lucky to have me as a meal,” I affirmed, crossing my arms and stomping my foot.

“Say. It. Again. You fat cow,” he hissed at me, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.

“Who are you calling a cow? You dirty bitch!” I screamed at him, temporarily forgetting where I was and what supernatural being I was talking to. Unfortunately, the vamp was quick to remind me as he began to unlock the door to my cell.

“Shit!” I squeaked, running towards the door and pulling it shut as he went to open it. The handle coming out of his hand as I did so. I held onto it in vain, throwing my body weight back, trying to keep him from entering.

‘Real smart, Krystal. Real smart. You just had to insult the stronger supe. Frack!’ I thought in desperation as he laughed, and he began toying with me by gently pulling on the handle, forcing the door to open slightly. I was being dragged with it like I weighed nothing.

‘Fat, my ass,’ I thought as he flung open the door and I let go. My life flashing before my eyes as I scurry back towards the other side of my cell. Huddling in on myself, I wait for this vamp to end me, but he never came. After what felt like an eternity, I look up to see the vamp dangling by his neck. A large hand wrapped around it, choking my would-be attacker.

Marcus, Korbin’s right-hand man, stood at the mouth of the cell, the vamp raised high. He looked my way and smiled. “Only you would be dumb enough to taunt a vampire in a vampire lair.”

“He called me fat,” I insisted, chagrined because Marcus was right. ’Stupid Marcus the Moor always being right.’ I thought with a huff as I crossed my arms.

He just shook his head and looked at the vamp who was quickly turning a shade of purple. “Did you call her fat?” The vamp tried to respond but only gurgling came out. His eyes were beginning to bulge, and veins were starting to protrude from his neck and head. If he hadn’t been about to kill me–or worse–feed on me, I would feel bad about his current situation. But I didn’t.

“He did. If this is how I am meant to be punished,” I said, pointing at the tray of quinoa, salmon, and steamed broccoli. “Kill me now.” I finished, crossing my arms and raising my eyebrow towards Marcus and the struggling vamp.

“Really, Krystal,” Marcus sighed and released the other vamp.

“Why are you releasing him? I was kidding. I don’t want to die,” I pleaded.

Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Report to Adrian. You are off guard duty,” he barked the order to the other vamp, who gingerly touched his neck. “For the sake of the Gods, get up. Have some respect for yourself.” Marcus chastised the vamp, who scurried off. I watched as he moved down the hall and rounded a corner out of sight. I slinked towards the door, trying to look inconspicuous while Marcus appeared distracted.

With a raised finger, “Not you,” he said, stepping back and closing my cell door. I went to protest, but I fell silent as he raised an eyebrow in my direction. I knew I could talk shit to the other vamps in the Peach Kiss and even a little to Korbin, but not Marcus. He was older and more powerful than Korbin, which always confused me as to why he never led the Kiss.

My fingers curled around the bars of my cell, “But Marcus,” I started but quickly stopped.

“No,” he replied.

“Korbin is being dumb. You and I both know this,” I reasoned.

“You made him look foolish. Until you tell us exactly what happened, I can’t help you, Krystal,” he replied.

“You men are all the same. No matter the species, you are all concerned about optics and pride. Goodness glaciers!” I exclaimed, frustrated because I knew I would have to tell them something. But what I wasn’t sure especially with the coercion that was placed on me.

“Doesn’t change the fact that we need to know what happened. You being caught with Jona doesn’t help your case, and you know why,” Marcus stated before turning to leave.

“Can I at least get some cheesy puffs?” I asked, sighing because I wasn’t sure how long I would be able to hold out.

“Look down,” Marcus called as he rounded the same corner the other vamp had.

“What –” I said as I looked down at my feet. An orange bag with my favorite snack laid there in all its glory. “Thank you. I love you, and I don’t care who knows,” I shouted after Marcus. The only reply was a melodic chuckle floating back to me as I sat in the dirt and ripped into bliss on this Earth.

December 21, 2025

fantasy, fiction, funny, psychics, short-story, supernatural, urban fantasy, vampires, writing
Kalti’s Origin

Every universe has their gods; multiple universes, multiple gods. Kalti was one of many divine beings in a universe not unlike our own. She was no different than the other gods she served with. Kalti’s conclave of gods, in this nameless universe far, far away thrived on equality. Peace and balance reigned throughout, no one god more powerful than the others in power and strength. This story isn’t about their universe; not directly. This story is about Kalti and a series of unfortunate events that drove her from her beloved home.

Kalti fed off of life energy from dying stars nearby that threatened the worlds within her universe. As they collapsed, she would devour them one by one allowing for new worlds to be reborn, keeping peace within the galaxy. That was until she was betrayed by a god that coveted her abilities. He wanted to control her and use her to take over their universe as its Supreme Being.

As was custom, Kalti received word that a world was dying. The older god that ruled over that world announced the ‘Harvest’ was drawing near and the planet was primed to be devoured to begin anew. Nothing seemed amiss because this god had lived longer than any of the gods could remember. He had just been there when they were birthed into existence, so they trusted in his word.

Kalti began her process, clearing her mind and opening the passage for the dying world to be cleansed and born again; scattered throughout the cosmos, stardust to be reshaped. As she opened her mind, the planet’s pulse weakly responded to her. It called to her as music calls to a singer. Slow and sad. Quiet in some spots only to crescendo as if in its death throes.

With a loud explosion on the surface, Kalti began to feed. She floated above the planet and unhinged her jaws as a steady stream of life energy began flowing from the world, filling the void that resided in her gullet. As she fed, the world broke apart slowly, tiny glowing pieces of life energy swirling, spiraling towards the black void that resided within her. A kaleidoscope of colors filling the darkness, making their way to her, tickling her lips as the stardust tripped across them.

When the final crumbs were consumed, she opened her eyes, floating alone in the vastness of space. The dead planet gone, her belly swollen and full, her mind sleepy. She gently floated to her world, her tree, the weeping willow, where she drifted to sleep.

The sweet dreams of her reshaping the stardust into the planet it would become didn’t come as they normally do. Instead, dreams of beings screaming and running, and fire everywhere filled her mind’s eye. The heat was so intense her life energy boiled, threatening to consume her. As sudden as it overcame her, it stopped.

Her eyes flew open as she took in the planet she had just created. Standing in front of her was a being that would inhabit the planet. Blue skin, multiple eyes with hair covering its lower half. It lay in front of her, life energy pulsating as it flowed through its veins. Creating a soft blue glow around its body. The pulsing called to her. And the void within her answered back. It woke up but had a completely different feel to it. The void never woke on its own like this. It always obeyed her, bending to her will. However, now it spoke to her.

‘It flows like the others. You felt it then as you feel it now. Life energy that lives. It ebbs and flows and provides sustenance for them; for us. Drink.’

‘How?’

‘With a kiss. Feel the pulse, and kiss.’

Kalti knelt by the being feeling the thriving, pulsing life energy flowing through it. The energy quickened the closer she drew to it. She cooed and shushed the being when its eyes opened and locked with hers.

“Sleep. All will be better when you wake,” she said hovering over the pulse. As her lips met the skin, fangs descended. Fangs that never existed until that moment. She shrunk back, her hand moving to her mouth. With a sting, she pulled her finger back, a golden glow pooled at the tip of it.

‘DRINK!’ The void thundered through her mind, clenching her stomach with an unbearable pain. ‘DRINK! The pain will lessen.’ Kalti shook her head in horror. She could not take the living life energy from this being. It wasn’t her place; she was no ruler over life and death.

‘But you are. Ruler of life and death. You drink up death and create life when you sleep. This is the same. Drink and this being will be born anew.’ The void reasoned, incited.

With shimmering golden tears streaming down her cheeks, Kalti shuddered with the pain and horror of what she was being coaxed to do. Her long black hair fell over the being that lay in front of her like an offering as she leaned over it. She reached down to kiss the rhythmic pulse.

‘This pulse is just like the other dying worlds’; she convinced herself as her lips surrounded the pulse on the blue skin. Fangs sliced into the mound she created with her mouth and a gush of life energy flooded over her tongue, down her throat and into her gullet. It was unlike any other experience she ever had. She felt the being’s death and with it the whole of Creation. Her eyes flared, matching the soul of the universe, vastness of the dark with the twinkle of starlight.

‘Another…’ the void demanded. While the being’s life energy quenched the pain, the hunger only grew stronger. ‘Another.’ It whispered as she swooned from the rush.

“Intoxicating, isn’t it?” a deep voice rumbled from behind her. Kalti jerked her head around hissing at the intrusion as the energy- lust rode her body. “I felt the same way when I first tasted it. You’ll learn to control it. That’s why I chose you. These beings needed to be reborn. We all do. Soon the others will understand, and we will help me make them.”

‘Jeva?’ Kalti questioned as the universe drained from her eyes turning them red.

“Yes, let’s begin,” he instructed and indeed they did. Jeva taught Kalti how to control the ‘thirst’ and cultivated her gifts. As a result, Kalti’s power grew, causing the other god to grow nervous. As she continued to grow, Jeva took over the worlds that Kalti had changed the beings of, creating an army. His greed grew with each passing day until Kalti’s ability became more than he reckoned with.

The day Kalti told him ‘No’ Jeva realized he couldn’t control her any longer. That day she realized just how powerful she had grown. She no longer wanted to answer to him. She no longer wanted to hand planets over to him to rule while she did all the work. He had overplayed his hand and had grown too complacent. He tried to exert control over her by force, but she fought back and for once in his entire existence he knew true fear. But he wouldn’t stand for it. Kalti was his to do with whatever he pleased.

As trickster gods do, Jeva threw himself at the mercy of the other gods. He pleaded with them to lock her up. Together they would be able to destroy her. They would be able to conquer her and take over her worlds. The gods, seeing how much power Kalti had accumulated, conceded to join forces with Jeva as long as he released the extra worlds he took over and returned them to their original gods. Of course, Jeva agreed as long as they would help take Kalti out. As always, the trickster god had a trick up his sleeve; he borrowed power from the other gods to develop a weapon to kill her. Though the other gods had not realized the weapon would destroy her, they were told it would only put her to sleep.

So began the Battle of the Heavens. The gods warred against Kalti, but she was too strong. As the tides turned in Kalti’s favor, a final battle took place where Jeva used the weapon against her only to fall under its blade. Upon Jeva’s death the six of the strongest gods worked to overwhelm her, almost killing her with it. However, Kalti had become as crafty as the trickster god, Jeva, and broke the weapon. Doing so almost killed her, but she fled to our universe to heal the damage done to her by the gods.

A wild hunt began as she fled, crash landing on Earth. Here, she met Mallec and changed him into the first vampire. Together they wreaked havoc with mass feedings of humans and fae alike, drawing the gods’ attention. Her power flared, bringing their search for her across galaxies closer to Earth. Soon, they caught up to her here and called the weapon pieces from the cosmos here to finish what they started back in their universe. As the weapon’s pieces slowly came to our universe, Jeva’s bloodlust influence subsided and the gods, weakened from being gone from their power sources for so long, agreed to rehabilitate Kalti.

This act of mercy was in their universe’s custom of (insert word here) where the collective reminded the accused of the good they have done in order for them to change their ways. However, without enough power to attempt this or finish her off they trapped Kalti here on Earth until they could return for her. They opened a portal back to their universe, with the help of the humans, bestowing upon them the gift of their powers. Hoping to one day return and collect their beloved goddess and restore her back to who she had always been.

December 12, 2025

fantasy, fiction, short-story, supernatural, urban fantasy, writing
Mallec’s Origin

Chronicles of a Soul Jumper is the first look into my When Worlds Collide Series. For those who read it (thank you) you will notice Mallec is one of my villains. If you are like me you enjoy the villains as much as the heroes. So I thought why not give you a glimpse into his backstory. Enjoy!

The cold night cleared my lungs as I huddled against the chill. Pulling my cloak tighter against my neck, I waited patiently for him to come. We each had our positions; we waited for him to walk into our trap. Othor had point, with orders to kill him as soon as he was within range. Nethan would take the secondary position in case Othor’s blow did not kill him outright. I shifted closer to the clearing to get a better view. A curse slips my lips as I manage to find the only dry twig in this winter landscape.

A whistle sounds, breaking the stillness of the night. Its shrill tone causes me to flinch because I know it’s Othor’s way of reminding me of my place. He always takes pleasure in pounding that idea into my thick skull. Beneath him. Always beneath him.

‘Never a moment’s rest to just allow me to be myself.’ My thought igniting heat to rise within me. Anger, shame… revenge. ‘One day soon, he will understand what it means to be beneath me.’ These dark thoughts fill my mind as we wait. My hands grip my weapon tighter. I don’t even feel my cold fingers anymore, glancing down at my white knuckles with their bluish tint.

“What I wouldn’t give for the village fire to thaw my frosted limbs,” I grumble to myself as I think back to what brought us here. Othor and his ambitions. Hunting him was Othor’s idea. He brought the idea to the elders because he knew he could wound me while looking like the village’s hero.

The crunch of hooves on snow sounded in the stillness. He comes. Such soft sounds from such a huge beast, truly a King. At the edge of the clearing, his silhouette cast a shadow over me. The full moon shining brightly behind him, making him look black against the bright white backdrop. I knew differently. I knew the stories about him. He is as white as the driven snow, the magnificent King of the Forest.

His snout snuffles in the air, scenting for danger. Every part of my being screams for him to scent us. To flee from us. We are the danger only a king should be wary of. With a tilt of his massive antlers and a slow blink, he takes a few steps forward. Showing off his beautiful color and huge horns, this Stag is bigger than the others. He rules them all, keeping them safe from us. His black eyes shine with keen intelligence as he snuffles the air again before taking a cautious step backwards.

If I don’t do something, he will be lost to us, and the village will starve this winter. My hands spring into action, gesturing as I mutter the words my mother taught me. A beautiful light show follows, ending with a blood red apple. Entering the clearing, I hold it out to him in offering, bowing my head, showing him reverence. My meager offering seems to suffice because within a few moments he strides across the clearing and gingerly takes the apple from my hand.

I glance up from my lowered position in awe of the magnificent beast. I am by no means a short man but I am dwarfed by this Stag. Awe is all I feel as I reach up to touch his face. The king lowers his head to press against my forehead and visions pass through my mind’s eye. This experience is humbling as I bear witness to all of the time this spirit has walked the Earth. My eyes drift closed as tears fall freezing on my cheeks and I feel a nudge moving me back.

Blurs of sound fill the quiet within the next few seconds. Coward as I am, I refuse to look up as the others descend upon us. I fall to the ground covering my head, face buried in the snow, as The Stag rears back. A spear whizzes through the air at the same spot I had been standing in a moment ago. My ears will never forget hearing the spear pierce the chest of The Stag and the bellow of pain that filled the air. Looking up after feeling the ground shift with a thud as The Stag fell. The blood covers the snow all around me. It didn’t look right as I brought my hands up to my face, blood covering them as well. This was murder. We murdered an ancient spirit. Even the Earth refuses to accept the blood of her child.

Blood on my hands, a sob escapes my mouth as I realize what my role was in this atrocity. Frantically, I wipe the blood on my cloak which only smears it. Not wanting to be here, I huddle further into my cloak, rocking myself as I say a prayer for the poor spirit. That is when I hear the whoops, laughter and footsteps of Othor and Nethan. Anger flares to life from deep down inside me as their laughter mixes with the death throes of the Stag. Nethan ruffles my hair as he approaches us.

“You have done well, Mallec,” Nethan encourages, not understanding why I continue to rock, mutter and stare at our kill. “Now let us put this beast out of his misery and go home.”

“Here,” Othor utters, thrusting his hunting knife into my hands. I glare up at him, my eyes heavy with unshed tears. I stand up suddenly, realizing with shock what he wants me to do. He wants me to finish this kill, but I have played my part. I will not get more blood on my hands. Not tonight.

I throw his hunting knife on the ground. It lands blade down in the snow at his feet as I continue to glare at him. He only laughs and picks it up. And before I know it, the sharp edge of the knife is pressed against my throat. I can’t swallow because of how close the blade is from cutting me. I would bleed out just like The Stag. Fear turns to hatred as I stand perfectly still.

“Do it, or you both die this night. No one will mourn you as you mourn this beast,” Othor vehemently hisses in my ear. He releases his hold on me, pushing me closer to the dying stag. He throws his knife down at my feet. The cold simmer of hatred in his eyes tells me he will gut me and leave me out here to die.

Mercy is what I can offer the Forest King, who is pierced through, transected by the spear and pinned to the ground. Every time he tries to raise himself up, his knees buckle under the weight of the pain and He bleats out a mournful cry. I flinch, knowing this beautiful creature is suffering by my own hand. I need to send him on his way and complete this deed. Send The King of Forest to his final resting place.

The handle of the hunting knife slips because of the perspiration on my hands as I approach my wounded friend. Sinking to my knees, I grip the knife tighter as I place my hand on The Stag’s head to quiet him. I stroke his soft fur that has turned pink from the blood. Gently, I whisper my mother’s prayer so only he can hear it. The others don’t deserve to hear any of our magic. The Stag stills finally as the hunting knife plunges into him, piercing his heart. The light vanishes from his eyes and he is gone. All that can be heard in the clearing on that cold winter’s night are my soft sobs begging the old gods for forgiveness and a chance to make things right.

*****

We trudge through the freshly fallen snow back towards our village. Othor and Nethan heft The Stag in the front and middle while I take up the rear. The King of the Forest, too large for one man to carry on his own. We trek further north through the trees, our village hidden in a grove just over the ridge we are now about to crest.

My dejected thoughts over the kill move towards warm things: food, mead and sleeping by the fireside. As those thoughts begin to warm the chill that clutches my heart, Othor abruptly stops, dropping his end of The Stag. Nethan and I have no choice but to follow suit. With The Stag on the ground, we approach Othor, who raises his hand for silence. We immediately are on alert searching the area around us before Othor points in the direction of our village.

Nethan and I approach the ridge that overlooks our home, our eyes darting back and forth before realizing why Othor has stopped. Our village sits quiet and still against the wintery landscape. There is no smoke, or laughter, nor singing rising to greet us. Something is wrong, very wrong.

Quickly, The Stag forgotten, we steal into the outskirts of our village. The coppery scent of blood infiltrates our nostrils, and it takes all that I have left not to gag on the other foul stenches that are mixed with it. Othor signals Nethan, who peels off from our group to go around the left side of the huts. Othor signals me to go the other way while he takes the middle. Even though I have no taste for hunting or war, everyone in our village is trained for it. No one is left out, or the village would fall.

I circle around the backs of the mud and hay structures that make up our living quarters. I glanced between the first two huts, not noticing any movement or people. Only the smell of blood and other things getting stronger. As I move on and look between the next two huts, a muted glow catches my eye as well as a distant sound.

‘Slurping?’ I surmise but cannot be certain. I creep along the shadows of the huts inching closer to the middle of the village and the long house. The sound becomes clearer; an animal or someone was drinking as if racked with thirst. I pause as movement catches the corner of my field of vision. Creeping closer, I realize the village fire in front of the long house is nothing but embers. Normally during the winters these are kept burning to keep the darkness out.

I barely register Othor in the fallen torch light that illuminates the meeting place in front of the long house. He is extremely agile despite his heft and size. Quietly, he approaches the huddled mass from which the sound is emanating. Without turning to my position, he signals me to stay put while he engages. As he stalks closer a whistle from Nethan breaks the silence.

The sudden sound causes the huddled mass to stop moving and a face is lifted into the light of the fallen torch. Othor hesitates slightly before striding forward. The figure moves as if it is as surprised as the rest of us. The movement knocking back the hood so we could see clearer. She was strikingly beautiful, blood dripping from her chin as she stares on, unblinking.

Nethan joins Othor as they surround the woman. Her petite figure dwarfed by the two huge warriors. Though they towered over her, she didn’t look afraid. She didn’t quake in their presence. She stood to her full height wrapped in a lilac, gauzy shift, barely covering any of her body. A dark color stained the front of her body and I froze where I was hidden; shock falling away as I drank her in. Her raven hair cascaded down her back, as she stood gazing up at Othor; her golden eyes transfixed on him. Othor spoke to her but she didn’t respond. Her hand reaches out to him, but he just smacks it away. The force of the movement knocking her to the ground.

The next moments are burned into my mind for all my days. Her head whips up as fangs descend in her mouth. A low growl hissing from her throat as she lifts herself up, flipping her hair back and flashing crimson eyes. I stumble back as the sounds of Othor and Nethan’s screams fill the night, accompanying sounds of ripping and tearing of flesh. Their cries and that awful slurping sound follow me as I trip over my feet to get away.

Coward. The one word deafening me as I blindly scramble to the village entrance, tripping over baskets, slipping in blood and guts and falling over bodies. Coward. This is your punishment for killing the Forest King! Run or die!

The condemnation echoing through my mind as I run. I can make it to the next village. I just need to keep running.

As the archway to our village comes into view, relief floods through my body as I push myself. I just need to make i–. All my efforts to escape are ripped from me as my body is lifted up by my cloak and I sail through the air landing next to the corpses of the best two warriors in our village. I didn’t even have a chance to scream before two golden orbs lock eyes with me.

“You …. Are…. Different…” a hoarse voice croaks out in my native tongue. This beautiful creature tilting her head and moving her mouth as if trying to familiarize herself with the sounds.

I shake my head vigorously at the dry words, closing my eyes so as not to look into hers. Try as I might, I can’t seem to look away. Especially when her smallish hand touches my cheek. I lose the fight and give in to the pull of her.

Her eyes strike through to my very soul, stirring something deep inside me. I lift one of my hands, which causes her gaze to snap to it, watching like a snake watches a snake charmer. Scared shitless, I rely on my magical skills passed down to me by my mother and I deftly move my fingers producing another light show above us. Glowing orbs and stars shine against the darkness, and she lets go of me. She watches as they twirl and dance before blinking out.

Her shoulders slump as they shake as she quietly sobs. She looks very young and innocent. My instincts battle with my heart. Every fiber of my being tells me to run and hide in the forest. The forest I know like the back of my hand. Out there is safety and protection.

However, the spark she awakened in me has me moving towards her and cradling her in my arms. Her small frame turns into me as her sobs continue. She needs me to protect her, to be her love. She needs me to be strong. She should have chosen someone else. I can’t be what she needs but by the gods I want to try.

After some time of us sitting in the snow her sobs lessen to nothing. Her arms snake up around my shoulders pulling me closer to her. Her face was half hidden in shadows cast by the fading torch light, but I could still see the stains of the blood-soaked tears that had trailed down her cheeks.

“What are you?” I ask her, still taken aback by her beauty under the dirt and blood. She reminds me of another beauty. One I will never get back and for which my heart aches in remembrance.

“You can …. Stay?” she asks, confusion drawing her brows together as if she is searching for the right words. “with … me? You are …. Special.” Her gaze intensifies as I smile at her. Those golden pools glowing under their own power, causing the spark in my soul to grow.

“Yes,” the answer escaped my lips before I even knew what I was saying. She smiles as if I was everything she ever wanted in life. I nod my head ‘yes’ again and she jumps up and down in my arms before pulling me down into an embrace.

Pulling back to stare into her eyes again I realize how close our lips are; selfish of me, I want to taste them. Her breath flows over my own and I want to know all of her. I need to possess her, and I slam my lips against her soft supple ones. We kiss long and hard, exchanging pieces of ourselves with one another before I draw back reluctantly, left breathless. She snuggles against my neck, leaving kisses to my ear. Once there she speaks in a language I have never heard before, not even from the Romans.

“What?” I ask trying to move to look at her beautiful face again. But I can’t move. She has her fingers locked in my hair and a vise grip on my arm.

“Special one, I have given you the choice of this gift. May you always serve me with it,” she repeats in my native tongue, chilling me to the bone. I pull back enough to see the flash of crimson in her eyes before she latches onto my throat. My vision begins to fade as the stars dance above us and the moon whispers: Coward.

December 5, 2025

bad guys, fantasy, fiction, short-story, urban fantasy, vampires, villains, writing
Soul Eater (Chronicles of a Soul Jumper – Finale)

Lights down low, hookah smoke swirling around the couples hiding features and intentions. This bar is a nice cozy place to blend in and to not be noticed. ‘Gods know I need to lay low,’ I sigh to myself as the waiter sets my drink down on the small circular table in front of me. If you could call this little structure a table. It is barely big enough to fit my drink and my clutch let alone anything else one would put on a table.

I wait for my server to walk away before reaching for my bourbon, neat with a twist of orange. The first sip of smokiness hits my tongue both cooling it and burning my throat. The amber liquid settles nice and warm in my belly as I lean back in my plush seat. Another sigh escapes my lips as I close my eyes, finally relaxing in my skin. Nothing like a good glass of alcohol to melt away the stresses of the day.

‘Hells, for the century I’m having I would need to drink my fill of the whole distillery.’ My thoughts invade the moment of silence I was barely able to grasp but not hold on to. I guess it’s hard for a djinn to have peace of mind when you hold the relic; a key to open doors to whole universes and dimensions. Once upon a time, I was known as a soul jumper, but once I earned my full powers and my original body back I haven’t been able to access that ability. I will be extra careful with this one.

‘Don’t want to go back to the void,’ I muse as a shiver flows down my spine. I don’t ever want to revisit that place again. I still have nightmares of what awaited me beyond the darkness.

My loose black curls brush my upper back and dance across my shoulders, pulling a sigh from my lips. So many centuries I went without looking into mirrors, knowing I wouldn’t see my own face peering back at me. Several lifetimes have come and gone. Gratefully, with my body and magic returning comes new life and I plan to take full advantage of this one. Nothing and no one will stop me; especially that stupid elf at S.N.O.B.

“I’m with the Supernatural Oversight Bureau and you are coming with me,” I mimic Detective White–Craig’s–voice before taking another sip of my drink. I let the smoothness of the alcohol wash away the sting in my chest that comes with thinking of him. I did the right thing. He was hurt and I couldn’t bring more danger to the crowned prince of Fairy.

‘Then why does it hurt,’ the voice in my head asks as a single tear slips down my cheek. ‘Stupid elf’.

“Am I now?” a smoky voice asks rousing me from my painful introspection. The seat across from me had been empty a moment ago. Now sits a dark vision in a thousand-dollar suit. His ankle crossed over his knee as he lounges.

“Ep!” I squeak, my eyes darting everywhere before settling on him, the Soul Eater. “What?” I asked cautiously. I didn’t think I would see him so soon. I still hadn’t figured out how to remove the mark so he would stop tracking me.

The side of his mouth tilts up slightly in a devilish smirk. His fingers brush mine as he reaches for my glass. I fight with my body to move but I am frozen in my seat cursing Craig for distracting me yet again. My eyes track the movement of the glass as it travels to his full lips. My mouth suddenly goes dry as I watch him take a sip. My tongue sweeps across my lips, wetting them as I watch him swallow the amber liquid. Behind the glass his smirk turns into a grin before he sets the glass back down on the table.

“Am I coming with you?” he asks again breaking the spell of his eyes. I clear my throat, realizing he overheard my mocking of the SNOB detective.

His golden eyes shine even in the dark. His five o’clock shadow doing nothing to hide his strong jaw. The rest of him contained in the tailored Italian suit. Everything a woman would love to have wrapped around her in the midnight hour. Flashes of us intertwined between gray satin sheets fill my mind’s eye causing warmth to spread through me, easing some of the fear I am feeling. “Stop that!” I exclaim in alarm at the intrusive thought.

He chuckles as heat creeps up my cheeks. My drink glass dangles from his fingertips as his arm settles on the arm rest. Imaginings of those fingers on my body creep in raising a blush all the way to my hair line. ‘This is so not happening,’ I think as memories flash of our first encounter. My skin still crawls when I think of my magic being sucked out of me. I shiver again as if a chill had descended over me. ‘This guy has some nerve,’ I fume.

“Come now, Minerva. Can’t we be friends?” he asks as if he had not been hunting me for years and came close to ending me on more than one occasion. Okay, two occasions but that was two too many. I cross my arms and sink deeper into the plush chair.

“Aziz,” he points to himself. “Minerva,” he replies with that damn smile again, pointing at me. He sets the glass down on the table.

“Why aren’t you trying to kill me? “ I ask as I narrow my eyes at him. His aura shifts as he continues to slowly invade my space, leaning towards me.

Aziz’s frame is much larger than I first estimated, because him leaning forward eats up the remaining space between us. His long fingers graze my knee, sending sparks of electricity shooting up my leg. I must stifle the squeak that wants to emerge.

‘You’re in danger girl’, echoes inside my head. I can’t tell if it is from his sex appeal or the literal existential threat he poses to me. My arm hair starts to rise as goose bumps form.

“Now that we are friends –” he begins.

“I never agreed to being friends with the likes of you,” I spit, as my magic and the fire in my belly roar to life finally thawing out the frozen response I had been locked in. Aziz moves back in his seat to lounging as I pick up the remnants of my drink and slam it back.

Bristling at his words, I look around hoping to find an exit. He caught me off guard twice before and I guess this makes three, but I wouldn’t go without a fight. His kind have hunted my kind for centuries if not even longer. One soul eater alone could take down a village of soul jumpers in a matter of hours.

My mind reels as I try to survey the bar. No one is close enough to us for me to jump into, even if my ability was working correctly. I internally curse my power’s limitations. The waiter starts his rounds to see if anyone needs anything. Perfect. I just need to get his attention. I start to raise my hand when my arm is halted by a large warm hand wrapping around my forearm.

“Tsk, tsk. Now, now Minerva. You have nowhere to run and hide. You are stuck here with me.” He pulls my arm back down into my lap. Another zap of electricity flows from his hand up my arm as he slowly releases his grip. The electricity follows the line his fingers trace along my arm. I rub my arm where the ghost of his touch remains.

“Besides, we are just two friends catching up with one another,” he muses as he once more sits back.

“You aren’t here to take me?” I eye him suspiciously. Trusting others isn’t one of my strong suits.

“No; why would I?” he asks dismissively. “As ancient as I am and the many worlds I have walked, why would I turn you into a meal when you have something I want? Even though your soul would feed me for several lifetimes.” His grin is all teeth as his gaze scorches my skin. Hunger and desire filling his eyes.

“What could I possibly offer you, other than my soul?” I ask trying to keep the panic out of my voice. I am not a skilled-ish fighter. I know how to run, duck and dodge. If only I could get that waiter’s attention. My eyes shift back to the server’s direction watching him take another drink order and walk back to the bar. Frack!

“Don’t be silly. You are more valuable to me alive than dead, or I would have killed you years ago,” he scoffs brushing imaginary lint off his suit jacket sleeve. “No, I have a business proposition for you.”

My brain screams for me to jump out of my seat and try to run. But his statement stops me. My curiosity piqued.

“Go on,” I prompt, trying to calm my thundering heart. He smirks again and I want to smack it off his handsome face.

“I need to find an artifact that you may have come across in the past. Unfortunately, where it is currently located, I don’t have access to get there undetected. However, you would be welcomed there with open arms.” He pauses. I wish he would get to the point because I have been to a lot of places, dimensions, and even another universe one time.

“Filania, realm of daemons,” he finishes his words accented with a flair of annoyance.

My jaw drops. What could he possibly want from my father’s realm? I have only been to my father’s realm twice in my existence. Both times ended disastrously. My father wanted me to stay but I couldn’t. Not under his rule and not with his stipulations. My human mother wanted to make sure I had a choice, and we escaped to Earth with others of my kind. I close my mouth and collect my thoughts, my hand closing around the amulet I wear. The key back to Filania.

“What do you want from there?” I ask, suspicious of his request.

“A weapon capable of killing an angel,” Aziz replies, and for a second time I am shocked by him. My hand lowers back down to my lap.

“The Corruptor.” I whisper, thinking to myself what the implications would be if I helped him. Walking a sworn enemy into the heart of my father’s homeland to retrieve a weapon capable of killing a higher energy being, good or bad. It would be chaos. For the first time this night a smile slowly spreads across my face.

“Why?” I ask to see if he really knows what he is asking of me. Aziz sighs, the lines upon his face making him look devastatingly handsome instead of aging him. My smile drops because one being cannot be that fracking gorgeous.

“Old fashioned revenge,” he replies. His face returns to the smooth mask it was when he first appeared in front of me. “I have a score to settle with an angel that owes me a blood debt,” he explains. That I could understand. I had a few scores to settle. There is a demi-god living on borrowed time.

What’s in it for me?” I ask leaning heavily towards helping him.

“SNOB off your back so you can live your life in peace.” He replies.

“It’s that easy?” Now it is my turn to scoff.

“Yes, it is.” He snaps back, his jaw tensing. He shifts his weight over his knees as he leans forward again. His hand skating over my knee. I wish he would stop touching me. It makes me so uncomfortable. ‘It’s because it reminds you of Craig,’ that annoying voice whispers in my mind. I frown.

“Look, I have no quarrel with you or your kind. I couldn’t care less to ever eat another soul again. I just need that weapon. Once I have it, I can release you from my mark and make it so SNOB won’t bother you again,” he pauses.

“After that we never have to see each other again.” He reasons.

Aziz makes a good point, I think. I am finding it hard to concentrate on his words. My attention is on the warmth radiating over my knee from where his palm is resting. A small gasp escapes my lips as his hand slides to my outer thigh, his long fingers brushing the hem of my dress.

“Do we have a deal?” Aziz asks as my eyes flick from where his hand is up to his golden gaze. I smack his hand away and point, about to lay into him about unwanted touches. Even if they feel so damned good.

“Is there anything else I can get you miss?” the waiter asks as he finally makes his way back over to me. My eyes cut up to him as a chill takes the place of Aziz’s warmth on my thigh.

“No, we are done here,” Aziz answers while holding up a hundred-dollar bill for the waiter to accept.

“Thank you, sir,” the waiter grins accepting the money and scurrying away. Aziz stands and holds out to me.

“Shall we,” he commands. He is making a habit of not asking but demanding and it makes me bristle.

“I never agreed,” I mutter. However, I still place my smaller hand into his larger one. Once again, the warm tingling sensation begins shooting up my arm.

“To Filania,” I mutter as we make our way of the club.

November 28, 2025

demons, fantasy, fiction, funny, short-story, supernatural, urban fantasy, writing
Chronicles of a Soul Jumper Part 26 – Finale

“If you do leave it will be against medical advice,” Dr. Richards chastises Craig as he attempts to get out of the bed for the millionth time.

“Unlike in the fantasy books, you are not superhuman and cannot heal any faster than you already are, son,” Joanne agrees, levelling him with a stern look that even has me sitting up straighter in my chair.

Craig falls back against the pillows with a sigh, bowing his head. “Yes ma’am.” The gesture gives me a glimpse of the younger Craig home sick from school. Joanne shakes her head and smoothes his hair down on the top of his head before cupping his cheek. Emotions stir deep within me as I watch the mother and son interaction. Warmth spreads through me as I bathe in the love she has for her son. A profound sadness I had not felt in a while also overtakes me, as the ghost of mother’s touch caresses my memory. Unshed tears pool at the edges of my eyes. I grit my teeth as jealousy takes hold of my heart. Weakness.

‘That’s what he brings out of me: Weakness.’ The thought tumbles through my mind, crashing into all of the sentimental feelings I just experienced in a matter of minutes. ‘I can’t afford to be weak. Not now. Not when I am close to earning my freedom again. He wouldn’t understand. He has everything. I don’t deserve to lose all that I have gained to these feelings.’ My thoughts continue to spiral. ‘He won’t understand what I have sacrificed to get here.’

Craig looks over at me, his lopsided grin spreading across his freckled face and it almost breaks me. ‘Better to break his heart now than to live a lie. He will love again. I don’t really mean that much to him.’ I reason. ‘Stupid freckles.’ I think as I smile back at him, though mine doesn’t quite feel genuine. He must realize something is up because he reaches for my hand as his smile falters.

Abruptly, I stand, moving just out of reach causing him to frown. “Minerva,” he says as a dark look shades his features.

“Maybe we should go,” Joanne pipes up, sensing something is off between us. ‘Stupid fae and their heightened senses.’

“No!” I exclaim before clearly my throat and patting Craig on the arm. “I mean, no. Stay. He needs both of your healing expertise.” I smile at Joanne and Dr. Richards. “Besides I have to run a quick errand.”

Joanne looks at me before pulling me into a hug. The warmth coming from her reminds me of a warm, spring day. “You will be back,” she says not asking but telling me. I pull back and nod, not trusting my voice to respond.

“Thank you, Dr. Richards. You are an amazing healer,” I say nodding to her before turning my attention to Craig who watches me cautiously. I go to him and plant a chaste kiss on his lips. His expression is unreadable and closed off. My heart breaks a little knowing I put that guarded look there. As I start to pull back he grips the back of my neck, halting me holding my gaze momentarily before crushing his lips to mine.

There is so much heat and promise in that kiss. He assaults all of my senses and I almost cave into the unspoken demand, Stay. The one thing I can’t do. The one thing that would break my spirit. I let him devour my mouth and I return the intensity. What feels like an eternity finally ends with the kiss. Craig resting his forehead against mine not having released the back of my neck.

“I will find you again. You can’t run from your destiny. You can’t run from us,” he demands, the full weight of his magic sealing the promise to find me. I gasp quietly as I feel it sink into me. Staring into his eyes, the tears in mine finally fall. Smiling weakly, I wipe at them as he releases me and settles back into his bed.

“Don’t be silly,” I laugh lightly and turn to face the other women in the room. Both of whom are looking everywhere but at us. I clear my throat again and lifting my chin, I leave the room.

‘It’s for the best. I have to finish this task and get on with my life. He won’t find me. I have spent the last decade running from him. What’s the next hundred years or so,” I muse as I enter the living room and grab the satchel containing the Book of the Ancestors. First things first; I need to deliver this book. “Now what was that guy’s name again?” I ask out loud.

“Byron Hughes,” Joanne replies. “He is an anthropology professor at Oxford University, however, he is giving a lecture at Baylor University near Dallas, Texas.” I turn to look at her, tears threatening to make an appearance again.

“How?” I begin but she holds up her hand to silence me.

“I have my sources as well. My boys forget they get their sleuthing skills from me,” she smiles, brightening up the dreariness that surrounds me. She takes my hands in hers lifting my chin with her finger, startling me. Blinking, the tears make a break for it as she takes in the satchel slung over my shoulder and sighs.

“I don’t know what is going on between –”

“Joanne, I am –” I interrupt but her fingers against my lips silence me.

“The two of you will work that out or you won’t. There was a time I had to make a choice between love and what I thought I wanted for my future,” she pauses.

“Do you regret it?” I ask as doubts about walking away swirl through my head.

“Not even a little bit,” she replies, wiping the tears running down my cheeks. “However, I was ready for that change. The funny thing about destiny; whatever you chose, that becomes your destiny.” A sob breaks free from my chest and she pulls me into a tight hug. I take in as much as the motherly love she offers me. I don’t deserve her kindness or this love, but I will take it anyway.

“Just do me a favor and don’t give up on love.” She commands as we separate from one another. All I can do is nod as I feel my heart break into smaller pieces. “You will choose the right thing. I have faith in you, Minerva.”

I let the final blessing from her sink in as I step back and a portal opens behind me. Clearing my throat and drying my tears, I blow out a deep breath. “If you will excuse me, I have a book to deliver and a world to save.” Joanne blows me a kiss as I step backwards into the portal, and I plunge into the colorful darkness.

***

Baylor University’s campus is beautiful but larger than I expected. Like most universities, I get lost as soon as I step out of my portal. Unfortunately, I plow into a long-legged student and we both end up on our asses.

“For fuck’s sake,” she exclaims. “Watch where you are going,” she demands as she collects her items that litter the ground. “Shit! I’m late,” she finishes collecting her things and scurries off.

“Goodness glaciers!” I exclaim rubbing my head as I stare after the woman who is hauling ass to gods only knows where. “Hey, you forgot your –” I hold up her phone that she missed in her hurry to leave. “Oh well,” I say to no one since I am alone in the green space between buildings.

I get to my feet and look around. “How in the Hells am I supposed to find this guy?” I ask out loud and as if by some miracle a ping sounds from the student’s phone. I pull it up and read the message scrolling across the screen which looks like an alarm: Dr. Hughes’ lecture (boring but extra credit).

Thank the gods! I take off in the same direction the woman went to assuming the building is where the lecture is being held. I can at the very least give her back her phone. I know how attached to them humans can be.

As I get closer to the building, a figure steps out from the shadows. The hairs on my arms begin to rise and I slow my steps. Menace radiates from this person as he comes closer, causing me to stop all together. The shadows reveal his handsome features. Crap on a cracker! It’s that fire-wielding maniac who tortured Craig. Frack!

“Hello, little djinn,” he calls out with a smirk. “Didn’t think you would see me so soon,” he taunts as he moves closer.

“Can’t say I was looking forward to it,” I retort, looking for a way out. I am too far from the other buildings to run. This green space is wide open so there is nowhere to hide. As powerful as I am, I don’t have any real offensive powers. I am no longer a vampire and those gifts are gone. This is going to be painful if I don’t think of something quick.

“There is nowhere to go,” he informs me as a fireball forms in his hand. With a flick of his wrist, the fireball lands just in front of me pulling a squeak from me and causing me to jump to the side. As graceful as a baby giraffe, I hit the ground and roll. The Book of the Ancestors falling a mere few feet from me.

“Shit!” I mutter, scrambling to get to the book before he launches another fireball at me. It lands in the space between me and the book, making me fall back from it.

“Mallec will be pleased that I retrieved his precious book,” he says, disdain dripping from his lips.

“Not a fan?” I ask as I get to my feet.

“Not really, but I just need to bide my time and then I will be number one,” he admits, walking towards the book. Panic begins to set in as I see my chance to be rid of the book and complete the quest going up in smoke.

“That would make you the second most powerful warlock in the world,” I say, trying to buy time to figure out what to do next.

“Yes, Lord William Knightly,” he introduces himself, pausing by the book.

“How fancy. Nice to meet you Bill,” I say as I position myself closer to the building’s front entrance.

He sneers, “My name is not Bill, it’s William.” Turning to face me, fireball at the ready. “It won’t matter to you soon, djinn. You have done me a favor. I think I will burn you and the book, then Mallec won’t be able to complete his plan.” He scoffs.

“You mean this book?” I ask, holding up the Book of Ancestors.

“What the –” he sputters, looking all around him seeing my portal close up on the ground where the book once stood. “You little –” he yells as rage fills his features, turning his face bright red. Just as a larger fireball forms, a beep sounds and we hear a large number of footsteps exit the building.

Students spill out of every building surrounding the green space. William puts out his flames and stares bloody murder at me. If looks could kill, I would have been a pile of ash on the pavement.

“Hey, you bumped into me earlier. Did you see a phone anywhere?” the woman from earlier asks me as she blocks my view of William. I smile up at her because she has me by a few inches.

“Yes,” I say beaming at her. “Here you go,” I say, handing the phone over to her.

She lets out a breath of relief. “Thank God! I thought I was done for,” she replies, shaking her long hair. “You have saved my life.” She smiles.

“On the contrary, you just saved mine.” I say peeking over her shoulder. Not seeing William, I turn my attention back to a quizzical face. “And your name is?”

“Oh, it’s Calily North,” she smiles at me.

“Nice to meet you Calily. My name is Minerva. Do you happen to know where I can find Dr. Byron Hughes?” I ask her.

If her eyes could roll any further they would be looking out the back of her head. “Snore. Yeah. He is in room 1201. If you hurry, you can just catch him,” she finishes. “Shoot, I gotta run. Nice running into you, again.” She chuckles before she dashes off.

As she leaves I make my way into the building and down the long hallway. The building is pretty modern and all the doors look alike until I turn the corner. 1201 comes into view and I throw open one of the double doors. Standing at the lectern is a tall sturdy man with shockingly white hair that reminds me of swan feathers. He looks up from whatever he is reading as I rush over to him.

“Dr. Hughes, I presume,” I say a bit out of breath.

“Yes, may I help you?” his clipped English accent flavoring his words as he watches me curiously. I reach into my satchel and I notice him flinch as I pull out the Book of Ancestors.

“This belongs to you,” I say, handing over the book. The book hums with magic seeming to wake up with him near. Maybe it knows it is close to completing its own destiny. Either way, it no longer concerns me. He gingerly takes the book from me and I can tell he knows what it is.

“How?” he asks as I turn and start to walk away. When I don’t answer, he calls out, “Why me?”

Pausing at the door, I shrug. “Why any of us? All I know is I had to find it and deliver it to you. It’s up to you to figure out who it belongs to and get it to her,” I tell him. I don’t waste another minute talking and take my leave. Students scurry around me as I make my way out of the building. Breathing deeply, I bask in the sun knowing I finally have my life back. I set off across the green space I had come across initially, happy with how life is finally coming up Minerva.

I wait as everyone goes on to their destinations and I am finally alone. With a flick of my fingers I open up a portal as I think about my destiny. ‘Craig won’t have to chase me after all,’ I think as the portal opens. I can see his mother’s house on the other side and my heart warms.

A breeze blows across my back as I am about to step through the portal and my forearm starts to burn. “Hello Delphine. I didn’t expect to see you,” a smoky voice says from behind me. I turn to see him and my heart stops and my mouth goes dry.

“No, it’s too soon.” I mutter, closing the portal behind me. Soul Eater.

“Come now, child. I expected to find Reginus but color me surprised. I find you instead.” The swarthy figure in a three-piece suit says, picking at invisible lint on his jacket.

“I was tricked. Don’t worry; Reginus met their end. You don’t have to collect,” I bargain trying to think my way out of this situation.

“So it seems,” he says mulling over what I told him. “Regardless, a soul must be eaten and I am famished. You will feed me for some time to come, little djinn.” He steps closer to me. “I will have to pay a penance to your father, but it will be well worth it.” He grins as I stand paralyzed with fear.

‘All I wanted was to live my life on my terms. Now it’s over before I am able to,’ I think as thoughts of Craig flash through my mind. ‘You can’t follow me where I am going.’

I watch as the Soul Eater’s mouth turns into a gaping maw and I feel my magic rise to the surface. I fight to contain it but it is a part of my soul and where my soul goes so does it. I grit my teeth and dig my heels in as I feel the pull the void calling me back.

“Land’s sakes, girl!” a shout emanates from behind me as four hands grab my arms and pull me backwards. I fall back through a portal and land hard on my ass. An unearthly shriek follows me as I watch the portal close. My next inhale is filled with sweetness as I look up into violet eyes. The Waters women stand over me as I lay on their living room floor.

“I am not sure what you have done to land yourself at the mercy of a Soul Eater and I don’t want to know,” Stormi Waters mutters as she helps me up. “But we have a bit of a vampire problem we need your help with.” I hug the old wild woman and kiss her cheek.

Beaming at them, “I guess a djinn’s work is never done.”

Thank you for taking this journey with Minerva. I hope you enjoyed it. She was fun to write. Fortunately, this isn’t the end of her story. There will be more to come in future books and blogs. Until next time…

November 21, 2025

demons, fantasy, fiction, funny, short-story, supernatural, urban fantasy, writing
Chronicles of a Soul Jumper Part 25

Anger darkened the hollow eyes reflected back at me in the mirror. Gone are the full cheeks and warm tan of my skin. Only the gaunt pale face of a stranger stares back as I try to quell the rage simmering below the surface. My knuckles pale as my grip on the marble sink intensifies. I don’t even recognize myself anymore. Fear creeps up as sorrow threatens to pull me under.

‘He tried to take everything from me,’ my thoughts slip through my mind. ‘He took my peace–my life–and replaced it with this… fear.’ My teeth grind against one another as a tear slips clear of the cage of my lashes. Rage begins to simmer in my belly. ‘All I wanted was to be left alone. To live my life in peace.’

My body begins to tremble as the events of the past month filter through my mind’s eye, reminding of what was tasked of me. My magic responds, my hands begin to glow as I think of how that golden retriever of a man hounded me and wormed his way past my defenses. Now if I don’t go after him, he could die and the world might end if I don’t bring that book back. A curse leaves my lips as my gaze snaps back to the mirror. ‘Frackin’ fae princes!’

“You were a badass! You, Minerva!” I point at my reflection. “Even without all of your powers you were a force to be reckoned with.” Even I could see the lie in my own eyes. Fear stripped that away from me. Dying has a way of humbling a person.

A sigh escapes my cracked lips as I hang my head down. “You could just go and not look back,” I whisper to myself, gripping the relic lying cold on my chest.

“But then how could you look at yourself again? Even with a new body you would know that you are a liar and a failure,” I hear my voice call me out. Knowing I am right, I couldn’t stomach eternity if I ran. I wouldn’t know peace if I gave up now. Peace is all I ever wanted.

I blow out a deep breath and look at the mirror again. Flashes of the visions my mother imparted to me while in the void flash before my eyes. I see where Craig is being held. I know who took him: Mallec. I have no choice but to run towards my future.

Taking courage from the warmth the memory of my mother gives me, I straighten my spine. “No other being is capable of doing this, Minerva.” I hype myself up. “You know it and they know it. Everyone knows it. So. Go. Get. It. Done.” With another deep breath I square my shoulders and turn as a portal forms in front of me.

Stepping through the swirls of color, I dive into a world of contrast. I feel myself flying with pressure lightly squeezing around me as if I am moving through gelatin. I look beyond the colors that surround me into the darkness beyond. But it isn’t completely dark; other portals open and close, streaks of colorful light, tubes and bridges fill the darkness with wonder. When I was younger, I loved traveling this way. It was a simpler time then. I would soar through these tunnels and skip across bridges for hours.

Now, I am grateful these trips are very short. ‘Get in and get out.’ I think as my feet step over a threshold into a dark room. Magic instantly coats my skin tingling and sizzling in warning that I am not supposed to be here. I get it but I don’t have time to disarm the magical trip wire because my heart stops beating.

“Craig,” I murmur as I take in the prince of quickly stealing my heart. His form is slumped forward in a chair. His arm wracked behind his back, his legs tied to the chair. Even in the low light I can see the blood dripping from a fresh wound on his face. The blood pools by his boot. Too much blood.

Quickly, I close the gap between us. Dropping to my knees in front of him, I cradle his face gently, my chest squeezing with unexpressed emotion. “What have they done to you?” I ask, taking in the cuts and bruises decorating his body and neck. His shirt discarded next to him, putting his injuries on full display.

“Hey beautiful,” he mumbles through swollen lips. “I knew you would show up. Dead or alive, I knew I would see you again.” He says trying to smile but wincing when his split lip protests. Rage burns away any fear that may have been lingering in my gut.

“Shhh, don’t speak. I am going to untie you and then we can get out of here,” I tell him as I circle around the back of the chair. The iron shackles glow faintly causing me to recoil.

“Fracking bastards!” I mutter as I stop. They put him in cold iron and infused it with dragon’s blood and something else. I pace behind the chair trying to rack my brain. I can’t use magic to release the shackles and every minute that passes I can feel him fading, like his essence is being removed. Craig’s groan pulls my attention and I move back in front of him.

“It’s okay, Minerva. Go, get the book and finish your quest,” his voice barely audible.

“They put you in cold iron. My magic won’t work on the shackles,” I say, my eyes searching his; for what I wasn’t sure. His head drops more, and panic fuels my being. My hands fly to his face again, feeling the heaviness of his head. “Stay with me,” I plead.

“I can feel the iron. It pulls on my magic,” he finally replies. His breath labored, as if it took way too much strength to say that much. “It’s okay, beautiful. I knew sticking with you would be the adventure of a lifetime,” he says; the last words barely audible. I watch as his chest struggles to rise and fall and a new fear douses me with the truth that I was about to lose a love that I never knew I wanted.

“Stay with me,” I say through gritted teeth. “All I need is a key, or something that could work on the lock…” Realization hits me like a ton of bricks. ‘Minerva, you can be so dense sometimes.’ I chastise myself as I grip the relic in my hand. ‘Duh, a key that can open rifts in time and space will open a damn magical lock.’

My hand smacks my forehead as I race back to the shackles behind Craig’s back. Taking the relic in my hand my thoughts and magic wrap around it, forming and shaping it into what I need. I open my hands as a skeleton key sits in my palm and wasting no time I unlock the shackles. First, I unlock his legs and then gently move to his hands. With the final click, Craig falls forward and is able to catch himself before he can faceplant on the floor. Rushing to his side, I am not sure where to touch him as he was so badly beaten.

“Craig,” I say gingerly, laying a hand on his back. His body shudders under my hand and begins to glow faintly. Golden light washes over him and the worst of his visible injuries begin to heal. The light fades quickly as he grips my hand, using me as leverage to stand. Pulling me into his body, his breath flutters the hair on the top of my head. I allow myself a moment to snuggle closer to him as he leans into me.

“Delphine,” he breathes, pulling back and cupping my face. “Hi,” he smiles that dumb smile of his at me then winces from the pain of his injuries that now look less severe.

“We should go. We have to leave. I’m surprised they haven’t come to check on you,” I mention as I leave him to check the only door in the room. Pressing my ear to the door, I listen for any signs of life, hearing none. I quietly crack open the door and spare a glance down the hallway in both directions. Sensing nothing I close the door and turn, smacking face first into Craig’s chest.

“We have to get to the library,” he comments, now fully dressed. He reaches for the door leaning heavily on the door jamb before stumbling out the door.

“Craig,” I hiss, chasing after him. ‘This man will be the death of me… again.’ I think as I catch up to him. I slip under his arm that is leaning against the wall, taking his weight as we stagger forward. “Where are you going?”

“They aren’t here. We weren’t supposed to survive. They left me to die in that room,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “We’re alone and hopefully Mallec was dumb enough to leave the book for us to take.” He finished as we came up to a pair of doors made of dark wood.

“Who are they? Where is Mallec?” I ask as I jiggle the handle on one of the double doors causing it to swing open quietly. I move us into the large room covered in wall to wall books. A dark wood modern table stands in the middle of the room. Floor to ceiling windows peek from between the equally massive bookcases.

Craig falls into a seat closest to us, a sheen of sweat breaking out across his brow. He may have been able to heal some of his injuries but I could tell it took more energy from him than he wanted to let on. He sighs as his eyes meet mine.

“The twelve are they. Mallec has them somewhere in South America.” He takes a deep breath. “I overheard one of them talking about a temple or something and a missing key.” He finishes and I clutch the relic that is now back around my neck masked as the pendant from before.

‘He doesn’t know.’ The errant thought seizes me, halting my search for the book. Clearing my throat, “where would they have kept the book?” I ask, trying to not clutch my pendant.

“When I arrived, they had it in here. I think there is a panel behind that painting,” he says, clearly in need of medical attention. I rush over to the painting, ‘Très clinche. Do better, Mallec,’ I think as I remove the painting and start pressing on the wall. Nothing appears to be there until my magic flares to life once I press on the last section of the wall that was under the painting. I allow my magic to flow, causing the wall to glow faintly before we hear an audible click. Smiling to myself I watch as a small panel opens revealing the book, and wasting no time, I grab it and turn to slam into Craig’s chest once again.

“Damn it! Stop doing that,” I demand. He smiles down at me.

“Never,” he says, pulling me closer to him. He dips his head, his lips mere inches away from mine. “We should high tail it out of here,” he chuckles and then winces clutching his side.

“Oh no, don’t leave on my account. Mallec will be happy that you stayed,” a man with remarkable features, brown hair and glasses. We both turn to face him. Craig pushes me behind him, squaring off to the stranger.

“Sorry to disappoint but we have a meeting with destiny,” Craig replies trying to straighten to his full height, his expression tight with pain.

“Funny, I thought I killed you. You fae just don’t know when to die do you?” He replies before tilting his head and looks around Craig to me. “I assume you are Minerva. I will enjoy rubbing it in Mallec’s face that I will be the one to kill the djinn.” The stranger shifts his stance, gesturing with his hands. “Too bad he won’t be here to see my triumph.” He finishes as a fireball hurtles towards us. I touch the wall behind us as Craig has backed us up against the wall with nowhere left to run.

Time slows down as the heat from the fireball gets closer and I grasp the back of Craig’s shirt pulling him back with me as we plummet through the portal that appears behind us. We fall through the color-filled void only to tumble out on tflhe oor of Joanne’s kitchen. Seconds later a fireball slams into the kitchen cabinet catching it on fire.

Moments later, Joanne rushes in with a fire extinguisher in hand. I untangle myself from Craig, climbing to my feet and helping him up. He gives me a big dumb goofy grin as he holds up the book. “Success!” he exclaims.

“Next time son, have your success with a little less fire. I swear it’s like your childhood all over again,” Joanne responds shaking her head, causing me to laugh. I might just make it out of this adventure alive.

November 15, 2025

demons, fantasy, fiction, funny, short-story, supernatural, urban fantasy, witches, writing
Chronicles of a Soul Jumper Part 24

The darkness surrounds me as I float in the abyss. Time doesn’t mean anything here. ‘Is this true death? Has it finally found me? I thought I had more time.’ My mind wanders about what is next for me when light illuminates the space ahead. My consciousness feels the warmth the light offers and moves closer. I hadn’t realized this place was cold until the light invaded my space. The warmth grew as the light became brighter until I came to a still pool. I touched the surface causing ripples that started to reveal a hazy scene that I could barely make out. I heard muffled voices coming from the other side as the ripples petered out. Pulling my hand back–or what I imagined was my hand– silence gathered around me again. As the pool stilled, I couldn’t see the blurs or hear the muffled voices anymore and I desperately wanted to hear and see them. Death seemed way too lonely.

I touched the surface of the pool again moving my whole hand through the still waters and felt a slight pull. Terrified, I pulled my hand back clutching it to my person that had somehow materialized in this dark, cold place. The scene became clearer. ‘Craig? Joanne?’ I thought I could see Craig’s mother speaking to Craig with her hands on his chest as if trying to keep him in place. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but clearly something had happened. His usual mirth-filled face was stricken. Sadness consumed me. Why was he so distraught? I wanted to whip that look from his face. But the image began to blur again, fading from sight.

“No! Bring him back!” I demanded as silence once again consumed me. However, this time the light began to fade. “No, no! Bring them back!” I screamed into the void, my hands on either side of the pool as it stilled once again. Despair claimed me as the darkness threatened to overtake me. I can’t go back to the complete blackness. Even though I thought I was alone as the light slowly faded, I could feel another presence somewhere behind me.

A screech cut through the silence as a wind swooshed by me, almost knocking me away from the pool. I froze where I floated in front of the pool as another screech answered the first and more wind swooshed by me. I backed up until the pool touched me. I could feel the ripples as the pool was disturbed by my presence.

“Minerva. Come back to me, please,” Craig’s voice found me. “I need you to follow my voice and come back. You are still needed here,” his hoarse voice pleaded with me causing the light to grow brighter. I turned around to see his beautiful face marred with blood and stained with tears. Damn fae prince: even distraught he was handsome. Was this a fairy thing? I looked like death warmed over when I cried. Mentally, I sighed and reached for the pool. Touching caused the ripples to get bigger and I could feel the pressure of his hand gripping mine tightly.

“Craig,” I called out and he appeared startled, surprised by something happening.

“Minerva? Baby, that’s it. Take a breath. Come back,” he encouraged, bringing a smile to my face. With that encouragement my hand once again broke the surface of the pool and I watched him gasp as I felt my hand tighten around his.

“Nooooo,” a voice hissed behind me. I whipped around looking for the being that belonged to that voice. “You belong to ussss,” it hissed again. The light began to fade again and I could hear Craig’s muffled cries to come back.

“Who’s there?” I called out to the void and I could have sworn it smiled back at me.

“We are eternity,” it replied. “We are the never were and the always have been before time began, little djinn.”

“What do you want from me?” I asked not really wanting to hear the answer.

“Join ussss,” it lisped. “You taste of life and light.” I stepped back as another screech sounded somewhere closer to me now. “Your death has sent ripples through the strands of destiny. Your life cut short like others belongs to ussss.” It explained, much too close to me for comfort.

“It is not my time and I will be damned if I stay here with you,” I affirmed. A wicked cackle rang out through the void.

“Little djinn has no choice in the matter. The window closes. You are too late,” its cackle response came from right in front of me. I dropped in time as claws materialized and swiped the place I had been standing. And as quickly as I ducked, I sprung up, took a deep breath, and lunged for the pool I had been looking through.

The voice had been right; the pool was much smaller than it had been a moment ago. I had to squeeze through, but I made it. My consciousness dumped into a gray mist-filled land. I scrambled back from the pool as gnarled hands with razor sharp claws followed me through. I watched as the pool closed on the hand and its final warning to me. “When the soul eater finds you, we will have you back.” It professed, followed by the evil cackle that sent shivers down my spine. Then the pool winked out of existence.

‘If that is the case, I will definitely need to get this mark removed sooner than later. It will be a cold day in the seventh circle of Hells before I go back there.’ I thought as I shivered. I stood and looked around the place I ended up. Light filtered through clouds and mist hugged the ground. Gray was the only word that really described the place I found myself in now. Unfortunately, it also made it difficult to figure out where to go. At least in the void I could follow Craig’s voice and the light back to my body.

‘What to do now?’ I thought to myself as I looked around. As I contemplated where to start, I noticed something glittering in the mist. I bend down and pick up the glittering silver chain from the ground. It shone beautifully in the dim light and gave a tug, making me stumble forward. I looked down realizing it was connected to my waist.

“Holy Heavens! I exclaimed as I lurched forward again with another tug.

“Come on, Minerva,” a feminine voice I didn’t recognized called out to me. “I have never lost a patient before and I don’t plan to lose one now,” she commented. Leery, I followed the silver chain as I walked through the gray mist.

As I travelled through this bland land I noticed the light got brighter and warmth flooded my limbs chasing away the chill I hadn’t noticed sooner. My breathing became easier as I heard Joanne’s voice added to the other woman’s voice. I could even feel the healing presence of her Earth energy spreading through me. Smells of cinnamon, apple pie, and herbs filled my nose. As I noticed more of my senses awakening, I became concerned because I couldn’t feel Craig anymore. His presence is the one I wanted to feel more than anything.

Even though he wasn’t there I knew I needed to keep going because life was at the end of the silver chain. I really wanted to be alive again. The closer I ventured, the louder the voices, the warmer the light and the more my senses came alive. I even started to feel the stirring of magic. It was like receiving a hug from a close friend. I didn’t realize how much I missed it. I smiled as in the distance I saw a door. It was a beautiful Moroccan blue with ornate designs carved into the wood. It reminded me of my mother’s home.

However, the closer I got to the door the heavier my steps became. Exhaustion pulled at me to stop moving forward but I knew if I did I wouldn’t be able to get back. So I pushed on, falling a foot in front of the door. I crawled towards it, my breathing becoming more labored as if I had run a marathon. The mist clung to my body as if it were sludge. The last few inches became unbearable as I fought to keep my eyes open but were lost when they shut and I collapsed right in front of the door.

“Delphine, you have to come back. Craig needs you. He went after Mallec. I fear the worst. Please, help my son,” Joanne’s voice whispered to me. I rolled over onto my back as tears streamed down the sides of my face. I had no fight left in me to cross the threshold. My eyes shut for what I feared was the last time.

“Delphy… Delphy… My beautiful starlight,” a soft voice whispered on a breeze I hadn’t noticed before.

I gasped, “Mother?” I asked, my eyes flying open. I stared up into the same kind, dark eyes I shared with the woman I had lost so long ago.

“My starlight, what are you doing here?” she asked with a soft smile. I was transported back to my childhood when we would lounge around the pool at our home. Me asleep in her lap and her stroking my hair.

“Sleeping, mother,” I replied with a matching smile.

“There is no time to sleep, my Delphy. There is much to do before you sleep,” she would tell me as she stroked my hair and then tickled me awake.

“Alright. No time to sleep. There is much to do,” I mimicked, giggling.

“You are needed, starlight. Go save your prince. He needs you,” she told me and kissed my forehead. A flash of visions filled my mind of what is to come and I gasped arching my back as they slammed into me. They overtook me until finally after what seemed like forever they ebbed and ended all together. With renewed energy I flipped back over and struggled to my knees. Turning the knob, I was bombarded with the brightest light I had ever seen and fell through the threshold, tumbling into darkness once again.

*****

“Minerva. Minerva, are you awake?” a soft female voice asked. I tentatively cracked opened my eyes and immediately regretted it. “Oh sorry! Let me get the light,” she said realizing my discomfort. “There is that better?”

I cracked opened my eyes again relieved at the dimness that greeted me. “Where—” I croaked. My throat screaming from underuse.

“Shoot, here have some water,” the woman said. Moments later cool liquid touched my dry lips quenching my thirst and lubricating my raw throat.

Clearing my throat, I tried again. “Where am I?” I asked blinking crust out of my eyes as my vision grew accustomed to room around me.

“You are in Dr. Richards’s clinic,” Joanne’s voice answered as she came by my side. Her hair was disheveled and there were bags under her eyes as if she hadn’t slept in days.

“Who?” I asked confused. “Where is Craig? I heard him a moment ago.” I finished as a pretty black woman with shoulder length hair in a white lab coat handed me the cup of water I had just drank from. Both women exchanged a look before returning their gaze back to me.

“Uh, why don’t you drink up and let Dr. Richards examine you,” Joanne encouraged me with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. Though fear ran wild through me I listened and drank my water, feeling better after having done so.

“Hi, Minerva, I am Dr. Natalie Richards. I am Joanne’s neighbor. Her and Craig got you to me just in time. We thought we lost you but I’ve never lost a patient before and you weren’t going to be my first,” she said by way of introduction as she began her examination of me.

“I am glad I was able to keep your streak alive, doctor,” I joked to cover the discomfort from her poking and prodding of my body.

“It’s good to know you have a sense of humor. It looks like your wound is almost completely healed. Honestly, I’m impressed with how quickly you have healed. It normally takes months to heal a gunshot. Especially, one to the gut.” Dr. Richards comments as she replaces the bandage over my wound. “However, it looks like the couple of weeks you have been asleep have sped up your healing.”

“I told her you have always been a fast healer. It must be something in your blood,” Joanne commented emphasizing the word ‘blood’.

Nodding I replied, “Yes, my family has always been fast healers. Thank you, doctor.”

“You’re welcome, Minerva. I will release you to Joanne’s care for now. But I want to check up on you in a week to make sure everything is healing appropriately.” Dr. Richards says as she removes her gloves. “I will write you discharge instructions and pain meds for you to take in case you need them.”

The doctor smiled at me and I could see a light purple aura surrounding her. I blinked and it was gone. I looked up to Joanne as she patted my shoulder knowingly. We would discuss this as soon as Dr. Richards left the room.

“Okay, I will let you get dressed and you two will be able to go. I will go get the wheelchair,” the doctor said, rising to leave the room. We watched as she left and closed the door behind her. Tentatively, I sat up swinging my legs over the side of the small cot I had been lying in for the past couple of weeks. Joanne passed me a pile of clothes that were clearly not the couture I usually wore. I would wager that it was better than putting on a top with blood and a bullet hole in it.

“Natalie is a natural witch. She doesn’t know it, though. That is what aids in her healing abilities as a doctor. Between her innate ability and me offering you my healing gift, as modest as it is, we were able to cut down your wound healing from months to weeks,” Joanne explained.

“That’s why you look so weary,” I stated, knowing the price it cost her. Healing abilities aren’t as common as fairytales would have you believe. If you weren’t born a witch with that specific gift or are a were-animal or an angel, it costs you time off of your long life. I would be indebted to Joanne for what she gave up to help me stay on this side of the void.

She nodded to my statement. “I would say I did it because I am an altruistic being but I would be lying.” She sighed and nested her fingers together.

Aw, there it was. She did need something from me after all. “Craig?”

Tears shone in her eyes, on the verge of spilling over the edge. “Bring him home,” she pleaded as only a mother could plead for the life of her child. The sad part was she didn’t have to beg me to go after him. He brought me back from oblivion. I would bring him back from wherever he was being held.

Squeezing her hand, I nodded and she inhaled a shaky breath. “You never had to ask,” I told her as I placed the shirt over my head.

“I will go grab the wheelchair from Natalie,” she said and left the room.

Alone in the strange sterile room I stood and looked into the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. Lifting the borrowed shirt and peeling back the bandage, I could see the wound was barely a scar. A few more days and it would completely disappear. I inhaled a deep breath as a tear rolled down my cheek. In all my centuries on this Earth this was the closest I had come to death. ‘Definitely not a fan. Zero stars. Would not recommend.’ I mused as I dropped the shirt that smelled faintly of the man I was about to go to war for.

I lift the sweatpants sitting next to me on the counter, and a clunk sounds as the relic– still hidden in its pendant form–hits the floor. Gingerly I put the sweatpants on and with a grunt of pain from the tightness of the wound I pick it up.

Rubbing my thumb over the pendant, it resonates with my magic. Determination sets in as I place it over my head and it settles against my chest. Mallec will wish he had completely finished the job of ending my life. “I am coming for you. And we are going to finish this dance, you bastard,” I proclaim as I clench the relic and a portal with its swirling lights winks into existence behind. “I am done running.” I vow to my reflection before turning and marching through the portal towards my destiny.

November 6, 2025

demons, fantasy, fiction, funny, short-story, supernatural, urban fantasy, witches, writing
Chronicles of a Soul Jumper Part 23

Thank you for your patience. There was birthday shenanigans afoot. Now I am back on schedule. Enjoy!

The George Peabody Library is a marvel of architecture. The Greek revival building with its sandstone bricks and ornate features glowing softly in the morning light. Craig opened my door and ushered us to the doors that appeared to still be locked. Standing there in front of the doors, a stiff breeze shifts my trench coat. I shrug my coat up around my ears. The cold sucks and I am finding it very annoying that Craig doesn’t seem to be bothered by it in the slightest.

Breathing on my hands, I complain, “Why are we here so early? The library isn’t even open yet and this chill isn’t agreeing with me.” The last part came out a bit more whiny than I meant for it to be. ‘Who said that? Ew. I know that wasn’t me. Gods, I hate women like that.’ Craig just smiled his annoyingly cute smile and looked at his watch.

“Patience beautiful,” he said moving closer to me and rubbing his hands up and down my arms. My face, and other parts of me, flushed from the heat he was throwing off. Energy poured from him, coating my skin exposed to the elements. Warmth washed through me and I had to fight the urge to kiss him. Especially when his lips were so close to my face when I looked up at him.

His mouth hovered so close all I had to do was reach up and capture his lips with mine. Temptation, thy name is Craig White! And I have no willpower as I drifted closer to the promise of … what? Not sure but I wanted to find out.

Keys jingling in a lock startled me out of the moment. I cleared my throat and stepped away welcoming the bite of chill in the air. My gaze shifts to the library door and an older man in a tan cardigan and khakis with a plaid button down on. His graying hair was mussed, and his big horn-rimmed glasses took up most of his face. However, the power he possessed flowed off of him in waves causing me to gasp and turn back to Craig.

His smile found its place back on his face trying to quickly cover up the look of hurt that was there moments before. A sinking feeling hit me in my core, but I refused to acknowledge it. His dopey sad puppy dog eyes would not work on me. We have more pressing things to worry about than his lovesick feelings. We need to get this book and get out of here as quickly as possible. A nagging feeling in my gut is urging me to move us faster. Yet, despite myself, my hand reaches out and squeezes his as the older man opens the door.

“Your highness,” the older man says addressing Craig, bowing slightly before pulling him into a huge bear hug. Their relationship was a lot closer than I first realized. I wonder who he is to him. Then turning to me. “You must be Minerva. I have heard quite a bit about you. Seeing you here now it all makes sense.” He finished with a chuckle and stepped aside. “Let’s get you in out of this chill.”

We filed inside and followed the man into the library proper. My jaw hit the floor. I think I even drooled a little. Inside the George Peabody Library I felt like I stepped into a place suspended between worlds—a sanctuary where knowledge hums softly beneath layers of dust and light. Columns of iron and shadow rise toward a vaulted glass sky, where daylight spills like sacred fire, bathing the books in quiet gold. Each balcony curls outward like the edge of a scroll, every spine a talisman inked with the memory of those who came before.

Even the air feels magical as it shimmers faintly, as if the space itself is breathing—pages flutter without wind, and the scent of old paper carries the weight of secrets long kept. Standing on the ground floor and looking up all around me I felt as if I was in its heart. Its beat making us feel both watched and welcomed, as if the walls remember. What it remembers is anyone’s guess. To say I am floored is the understatement of the year.

“She was voted one of the most beautiful libraries in the world,” the older man stated. “I have loved working within these walls form the moment she was built.” He pronounced proudly as he cleaned his absurdly large glasses.

I felt him before he spoke. His hands caressed my arms causing a chill to follow in their wake. “Everyone is awed by her the first time,” he whispered.

“I am sure,” I replied taking a deep breath as I step out of his comforting touch. Turning to our host, “You know my name. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?” I asked. I wouldn’t extend my hand until I knew who and what he was. Some of the older beings in the universe are particular about touching.

“Where are my manners?” he uttered shaking his head and walking over to me. Reaching his hand out for me, he answered my question. “Finneas Albert, guardian of knowledge and purveyor of the most delicious mead this side of Fairy.” I shook his hand feeling that he pulled back the energy that had been flowing from him when we first met.

“It’s nice to meet you. No thanks to princey boy here. So rude. I know his mother raised him better than that,” I joked. Finneas laughed and slapped Craig on his shoulder shaking him from his sulking mood.

“Oh, ho ho. You have your work cut out with this one, my boy. May you continue to work to earn this one. Your father would be proud,” Finneas stated. “Come, let’s get you what you are looking for. The book is this way in our private collection in the basement.”

He motioned us to follow him through a couple of corridors and down three flights of stairs. The basement seemed like any ordinary library basement. Books, boxes, and dust reigned supreme down here. I was not impressed in the slightest. That was until we came to an unassuming wooden door. If Finneas hadn’t brought us to it I would have overlooked it. I didn’t even sense the magical signature on it until his hand waved over the handle.

At his touch, a faint blue light outlined the shape of the door humming with fae energy. The power coming from it felt ancient and heavier than any magic I had felt in a long time. ‘What secrets lay behind this door? ‘I wondered as I subconsciously rubbed my hands together. ‘Maybe something that could get rid of this fracking marker that creature placed upon me.’ I thought angrily as I rubbed the brand on my wrist.

“Here we go,” Finneas announced as he wagged his eyebrows at us and opened the door.

“Wow!” Craig and I exclaimed in unison. As we stepped through the door, an impossible world of literature greeted us. The room was twice as large as the main library upstairs. Globes of floating lights lit up the enormous space in soft colors hovering over endless rows of tables, nooks and seating areas completely covered with books and scrolls. Row after row of bookshelves stretched impossibly as far as the eye could see.

Ancient texts were on display everywhere we looked and a faint smell of sandalwood and cedar wafted through the air replacing any hint of dust, mold or must. My hands itched to spend some time here looking for the answers to all of my problems. I swallowed as I approached a nearby table perusing the words etched into a stone tablet. ‘How to attract nymphs—”

“Ha, well,” Finneas interrupted my reading as he turned the tablet over. Blushing he explained, “research for a client.” He finished by clearing his throat and gesturing for me to an empty table Craig was already sitting at.

I patted his arm and whispered, “Your secret is safe with me.” I stifled my smile as I walked over to the table. The only time men wanted to attract nymphs is when they were feeling a bit ‘lonely’. Maybe he needed to get out more. I chuckled to myself as Craig pulled out my chair.

“What’s so funny?” Craig asked and I shook my head.

“I am sworn to secrecy, but I would suggest maybe taking Finneas out for a night on the town.” I replied. Craig just nodded as Finneas approached us with a large book in hand.

“Here we are,” he announced placing the book on the stand in front of us. “This is the book of ancestors,” he explained. “It is a family grimoire it seems. There is the family history, spells and incantations. Some of these texts are older than any of us in this room. It is curious that you were sent to fetch this particular tome.”

‘I wasn’t sent to fetch anything,’ I bristled mentally at the notion. No one tells me to fetch. I think as I cross my arms and sit up straighter. I’m about to tell him as much just as Craig’s hand sends warmth through my thigh where his hand touches and the ice on my shoulder melts. I turn towards him sharply. When had his hand found its way to my thigh. Why am I not pushing it away? I think as I settle back into my chair trying desperately to hold onto my indignation but finding it very difficult.

Oh, Detective White is definitely too dangerous to be around. I muse as my thoughts wonder what other things his hands can do.

“And that is why it is important that you find Byron,” Finneas concluded jarring me out of my daydream.

“Who?” I asked because I obviously wasn’t listening.

“Byron Hughes. The feathered man the Oracle told you to get the book too,” Craig summarized for me. I shifted in my seat giving his hand, that is still on my thigh, a squeeze in thanks.

“Mr. Hughes. Got it. Do you have a picture or know of his whereabouts?” I ask trying to get to the point so we can finish this task. Being this close to Craig is making me a little restless and I needed some air to cool down from his … heat.

Finneas pulled out his smartphone and scrolled through it before turning it over to us. A photo of tall willowy man with platinum blond hair that resembled feathers, a summer tan and large blue eyes. What is with all the supe men being tall. Byron’s smile was only matched by a younger Finneas as they stood next to one another with their arms around each other’s neck. Friends from another lifetime it seems. There was another man in the picture with them that looked a great deal like Craig, and I hazard a guess that was his father. Finneas looked at the photo fondly before typing on his phone. Moments later Craig’s phone dings and he takes it out to see the shared photo.

“This is his true face; however, he has been known to change his look from time to time. He is an incredibly gifted illusionist as well as a swan shifter,” he offered. Craig sat there quietly examining the photo. His hand tightened slightly around the phone, his smile turning sad.

“You look so young and happy in the photo,” I mention trying to alleviate the somber mood that had taken place.

“Yes, that was a simpler time back then. We were at university together. Those were good times,” Finneas mused.

“Three studs on the prowl. Am I right?” I egged him on coaxing a smile out of Finneas.

“Something like that,” he replied on a laugh, clearly thinking about a fonder time. “You should be able to find him in London this time of year.”

“Why? He seems harmless. All I am going to do is give him the book and tell him to pass it along. I am not looking to be dragged into anything else,” I retort, crossing my arms again.

“A word of warning: Looks can be deceiving and his especially,” Finneas cautioned. “He is a member of the Twelve.”

“The Twelve?!” Craig uttered looking up from his phone finally. His muscles tightened causing his jaw to tick.

“The Twelve?” I questioned looking between the two men. “Who are they and why should I be worried?” I shrugged. “I am a djinn, and he is a high court fae prince.”

Craig answered before Finneas could, “they are an order of warlocks that think they are above all laws. They are only beholden to themselves.” He turned to me. “They are very powerful and keep themselves secret for a reason. No one really knows the extent of the power they wield. We need to be very careful when we approach him.” He finished and started typing on his phone.

“Are you a member?” I asked.

“No, my dear.” Finneas laughed. “I am not powerful enough nor do I have the inclination to join that faction.” He said the last part with a bit of disdain. Nodding in understanding I think of how to ask my next question as delicately as possible knowing it probably won’t be well received by either man.

“Who is the other man? In the photo with you and Mr. Hughes,” I finally settle on being upfront. I have never been good with polite politics; why start now. Probably because the energy of the man seated beside me shifted from sadness to anger.

“I think it is time we leave,” Craig says before Finneas is able to answer.

“Right,” he says sensing the shift as well. Finneas takes a shoulder bag half the size of the book and starts shoving it inside. Miraculously, the book fits. Lifting the bag to put on my shoulder I realize I have heavier handbags than this shoulder bag.

“Wow,” I muttered to myself as Craig tries to take the bag from me. But I pull it out of his reach and sling it across my body. “My mission. My bag,” I remind him.

“If you say so,” he mutters and turns to Finneas. “Thank you old friend, I will be in touch.” They lock forearms and nod to one another before Craig leads the way out of the room. I trail behind him until we are about halfway up the stairs.

“Are you going to tell me what is wrong with you?” I ask because his sour mood feels so out of character for him that I am not sure how to react. He just keeps on walking ahead of me, forcing me to jog to catch up. “So, you aren’t going to talk to me?” I ask as we make it to the main floor and he ignores my question. I don’t even know why I am so concerned about his current mood. Men are all the same: so moody.

“I swear men are so fracking moody. I don’t know why I thought you would be any different,” I muttered as I strode back down the corridor we went down before.

People were milling around and walking here and there making the library seem to come alive with a hushed energy. Normally, I enjoyed strolling through this type of unhurried pleasant energy, but I couldn’t fully enjoy it with the dark cloud following me to the front doors. In the atrium I reached for the door handle only to be halted before opening the door. Craig pulled me into a small alcove near the entrance.

“He was my father,” he admitted catching me off guard. It took me a second to realize he was referring to the third man in the picture with Finneas and Byron. Understanding colored the concern on my face realizing that his mood shift was grief over the loss of his father.

“I’m so sorry, Craig. I truly am,” I said wrapping my arms around him because I had been wanting to do that all day even though it was against my better judgment. He stiffened.

“Yeah, sure you are,” he replied and pulled away from me.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, very confused by the cold treatment.

“It means you are… Never mind,” he answers before trying to storm off but I catch his arm, pulling him back.

“Oh no, you don’t get to say that and leave,” I whisper-yell as a couple of people walk in from the cold. They glance our way as I pause the conversation waiting for them to continue on their way. Once they leave, Craig crosses his arms and looks down at me. Gods I hate tall men. Why is everyone so damn tall?! “Now you are going to tell me what I did to piss you off so much.”

“You are so back and forth,” he exclaims searching for the words. “I have made my intentions known from the beginning or at least I thought I had. Then you go… We … kiss.”

“Oh,” I say, surprised by how flustered he is by my actions.

“Then you go cold on me today. But only really,” he says exacerbated throwing his hands up in the air. “I can’t get a fix on you. You are impossible!”

“I’m impossible,” I repeat. “I am many things but impossible. Ha! You are the impossible one hunting me one minute and the next coming on this quest with me like some knight in shining armor.” I poke his chest with my finger. “Where do you get off thinking every woman wants that? We don’t all want that. We aren’t all damsels in distress in need of a big strong man to rescue us!” I shouted at him.

He scoffs at me, “You could have fooled me. I seem to be saving the day a lot since I offered to be part of your ‘little’ quest.” He finished standing there smugly looking down on me. And there it was. He was just like all the other fae who looked down on my kind. I stepped back from him, bumping up against the opposite wall in the small alcove.

“You are right. I needed your help and just like the hero you are willing to be the do-gooder and save the world. Just for the record most women don’t want the hero, they want the villain because at least the villain would end the world for them. With that I relieve you of your duty, hero.” I say pointing in his face as I turn to leave.

“Oh, come on Minerva. I didn’t mean it like that,” he called after me as I approached the front entrance. I turned to him with the door partway open, the cool air rushing in to cool the rage boiling just under my skin.

“Fuck off, Detective,” I reply pushing the door open to leave only to stop in my tracks.

“Hello, Minerva. I have been waiting for you,” Mallec says in the way of a greeting. “It seems you have something I have been looking for.” He finishes before the flash-bang of the gun goes off and a searing heat enters my gut.

I hear my name being called, as Mallec, snatches the shoulder bag containing the Book of the Ancestors, from me. “Everyone wants a villain until a villain shows up.” Darkness consumes me as Mallec’s laughter follows me as I lay dying… Again. Fuck!

October 29, 2025

demons, fantasy, fiction, funny, short-story, supernatural, urban fantasy, writing