Page 38 of Elixir of Strife
My words cut off mid-sentence as he pushed his lips against mine, locking me in a kiss so deep and hungry it made me completely forget what the hell I was supposed to say. He grabbed the back of my head, possessive, protective, delirious with nervous laughter.
He breathed in deep like he was trying to suck away the remaining traces of jitters in my system, yet also like he was trying to breathe in my scent, and my soul. I pulled away, sputtering and laughing as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. His eyes darted all over my face, then he pumped his fists in the air.
“Woo! Oh, man. I can’t decide if I want to make out with you or make out with a bucket of fried chicken. Maybe we’ll do both. I’ll go grab the car.”
Max’s footsteps rang across the parking lot as he raced to his car. I pushed my hair back out of my face, shaking my head in confusion. Adrenaline could certainly explain some of that behavior, and maybe the sheer exhilaration of surviving what could have been a very deadly encounter.
A little odd that I was on the same level as a chicken wing, though. Not that I really minded.
“Fuck,” I muttered, hitting the sidewalk. “I could really go for some fried chicken, actually.”
Something glimmered in the air before me, not far from where I stood. I paused mid-step, fingers curled as I considered another application of Bakunawa’s power. Would he get pissed about being summoned again so soon? Hardly likely. I could almost taste his joy every time he Emanated, the same as Tiamat. They lived for it. They loved it.
A white shape blinked out of nothing, staring me straight in the face. Reminiscent of a sort of crescent moon, or maybe a croissant. A croissant would have been nice. This was no delightful puff pastry, but another unfortunate and terribly timed visit from our favorite Masque.
Two eyes opened in the middle of the crescent — the Masque’s mask, of course — and within moments the rest of the man’s body manifested, came into view. I’d never paid much attention to what he wore, but it was easy to tell that it was always the same guy, based on his taunting, deliberately over-friendly smile.
Also his taunting, deliberately over-friendly voice. And his overly formal manner of speaking, too. In a manner of speaking, he sounded like a pretentious asshat.
“Greetings and salutations, Mr. Alcantara.”
Honestly. Seriously.
I waved my hands at myself, at our surroundings, painfully conscious of the olives I was smuggling in my pocket like so much contraband. “Well? Can I help you with something? And do we get a name from you this time?”
The Masque tilted his head at an angle that only made his infuriating smile gleam brighter. Of course he wasn’t about to reveal his identity. Anonymous enforcement was the entire point of their organization. He inspected his fingers. Nothing there, but he rolled the tips of them together, flicked something invisible off, anyway. The theatrics. So annoying.
“Oh, it’s nothing, really. I do find it so interesting, however, how there’s been quite an alarming quantity of anomalies occurring around Dos Lunas. All those shattered bottles at the docks, have you heard? Soon followed by the manifestation of a wall of steam, also at said docks. Potentially very dangerous for the normals, I’m sure you’ll agree.”
“Right. And you do realize that Max and I had nothing to do with either of those incidents, right? Someone else catalyzed those anomalies. That’s what you should find interesting, how you have another anomalist on the loose.” I showed him a finger, then quickly supplemented it with another. “Two. Maybe two.”
The Masque pursed his lips with distaste. I’d barely flipped him the bird, but he obviously got the message.
“You know what I do find interesting, Mr. Alcantara? I’ve inspected the dossier we have on you, and prior to very recently, nowhere does it indicate that you are capable of wielding flames of a bluish-green variety. One might describe the colors more accurately as — now, let me see if I recall this correctly — emerald and sapphire?”
I stood perfectly still, perhaps overly vigilant about allowing nothing on my face to betray my thoughts. Not that these rat bastard Masques needed any help digging up dirt on me to begin with. How the hell did he know about Tiamat Emanating through my body, the color of her flames and scales?
“Okay, and?” I started slowly, mainly to ensure that my mouth wouldn’t go faster than my mind could process. “It’s not like mages aren’t capable of picking up new spells. You of all people should know. Maybe I wanted to diversify, you know? Grow beyond thebruhomagic of my lineage.”
“Absolutely, yes. That in itself is not at all unusual. Except, well — it seems as though you’ve also picked up a talent for projecting streams of water. But only saltwater. How very specific and strange.”
The Masque stared at me with curious, mocking eyes, daring me to ask how he knew all this about me. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, and yet walking away from this encounter knowing that he held this knowledge of me and my talents was going to frustrate me to no end.
More importantly, was this a glancing accusation about the anomalies? He was totally pointing the finger. I shrugged, again playing it off as nothing. Act cool, crisp, like a nonchalant cucumber.
“Maybe I’m curious about the merits of elemental magic. Maybe I wanted to honor the islands I came from by using saltwater when I conjure it. Is that a crime, officer?”
He smiled, somehow without showing any humor in his eyes. Fuck. He knew he had the upper hand, that he was getting under my skin.
“Certainly not a crime, Mr. Alcantara, though it might serve you best to acknowledge where your power actually comes from. So nice of you to have this little chat with me. Perhaps in future you’ll consider being more forthcoming with your answers, hmm?”
This arrogant prick, wielding his authority and his information over me. I knew I’d felt it at least once before, but the temptation to reach for his face and rip his mask right off was almost overpowering.
In the end I didn’t answer. The Masque sighed.
“Very well then, Mr. Alcantara. Until we meet again. Do send my regards to your partner.”
Did he mean Max or one of the dragons? Still I said nothing. The Masque clicked his fingers. His body seemed to roll up into his mask, this bizarre two-dimensional illusion, his magic of smoke and mirrors. His limbs, his torso, even his smile disappeared, leaving only the familiar crescent of his alabaster mask.
