Eye of the Tempest (Jane True #4)

“You’ve lived a long time,” I pleaded. “You have to have had human names. Can’t we use one of those?”

Blondie frowned. “Those names are my history, and they’re dead and buried. Plus, some of them are still on various wanted lists.”

I responded by tentatively trying her real name one more time.

She made a cat’s-anus face.

“Tell you what,” she said. “What would you like to call me?”

I shifted on my feet. “I sort of had a nickname for you before.”

“Great,” she said. “What is it? As long as it’s not Bitch-Faced Monster, we can roll with it.”

“Um,” I said. “I called you Blondie.”

Blondie grinned. “That’s perfect. I fucking love Blondie. That bitch can party.”

I sighed, thinking of Amy. “So I’ve heard,” I said.

“Blondie it is. At least until I can get that tongue of yours whipped into shape,” the Original said, giving me a bawdy wink and taking a step toward me.

I blushed, feeling a little twinge of heat in my belly. The fact is, the Original was not only super hot, but she had that Tilda Swinton, David Bowie, or TAFKAP style androgynous pansexuality. The kind where everyone, regardless of gender or sexual orientation, kinda wanted to boff them.

But you’re smitten with a dog, I reminded myself, turning away from Blondie to watch as Anyan barked, did that doggie-playful-bow thing—with his ass in the air and his tail wagging—and then raced away just as Caleb and Iris got close enough to grab him.

“Well, Blondie,” I said, turning back to the Original. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jane.”

We shook hands, pseudo-solemnly.

“So, now that we’ve been introduced, what do you want to know?” she asked.

“I was told you were here because you’re searching for something in Rockabill. Some kind of power. And it’s hidden away, according to a nursery rhyme, and protected by four locks.”

Blondie nodded as I spoke.

“So,” I continued. “You followed Anyan and me around the country, instead of coming straight here and dealing with Nell. You say you did that because you wanted to see what we were like, but you never approached us, just followed us. And then we get attacked, but you’re right there to ‘help out.’ Can you see why I’m a little suspicious?”

Blondie sighed. “Yes, I can. And to be frank, I haven’t been completely honest.”

I stiffened, unsure of where this was going to go. If Blondie decided to admit to being allied with Jarl and his cronies, we were fucked, what with Nell and Anyan out for the count.

“Don’t get all uptight,” the Original chided. “I’m not a bad guy. I just know a little more than I told the others.”

I frowned and she shook her head.

“They weren’t secrets you had to know, and you’ll understand why I had to keep them if you’ll just let me finish.” When I stayed quiet, clearly indicating she should talk, she continued.

“The fact is, there’s more to the nursery rhyme than most people know. I’ve found the original version, which is more of a harsh warning than a nursery rhyme. It’s written in ancient Alfar, so there are only a handful of people around today who can read it.

“It says the same stuff as our nursery rhyme version, about something ancient being locked away. But it goes on to talk about how the creature—and this version specifies that it’s a creature—will not only destroy a lot of stuff upon waking, but that it also has the power to create for itself a champion.”

“A champion?” I questioned.

“Yep. It has the power to gift its own strength to someone. Anyway, there are a number of things we don’t know, but we know the creature has the power to give power—and that’s power that a lot of people want.”

“But if not many people can read ancient Alfar—” I began.

“Unfortunately,” she interrupted, “ ‘not many’ does not mean ‘only me.’ The bad guys know everything I do.”

“And who, exactly, are the bad guys?” I asked, remembering Nell’s fear that this problem wasn’t just national but international.

“People just like Jarl, all over the world. It’s the same war that we’ve fought a million times, or so it feels like.”

“Those who want to live with humans versus those who want to subjugate them?”

“It’s more than that,” Blondie replied, raising her tight white wifebeater just enough to scratch lazily at the piercing in her belly button. “It’s about how we live. One side wants strict hierarchies—strict laws about who can and cannot lead, and how we live our lives. The other understands the idea of choices, and how we must be free to make them. Part of that is how we live with humans. Some of us want no contact, and for humans to be, basically, our slaves. Others understand we need humans… that we’d be lost without them.”

“Okay,” I said, remembering to focus on my original questions and not go off in a tangent that could be Blondie-induced. “So why were you following Anyan and me, instead of working with Nell to get access to the Territory to find the creature?”

Blondie pursed her lips, obviously gathering her thoughts.

“I really did need an invite into the Territory. Nell isn’t trusting, especially of someone with my powers.”

“And?” I prompted, knowing there was more.

“And,” she said, slowly and carefully, “I was interested in the two of you.”

I frowned. Why would she be interested in me and Anyan? Anyan was the only one worth following… And then it all fell into place.

“You think Anyan could be the champion,” I stated, knowing I had to be right. It made sense: Why else would someone like Anyan feel he needed to make a home here? Maybe he was called by the power. And who better to take on some mysterious championship (if that’s what it was called) than someone who was already a badass?

Blondie was watching me with a furrowed brow, which smoothed out as I talked. Undoubtedly, she was relieved that I had guessed her secret.

“Well, let’s say I thought Anyan was the champion,” she intoned, nodding her head toward where both Caleb and Iris were still trying to shove Anyan’s recalcitrant ass into the back of the SUV.

“Oh,” I said, realizing what she was saying. “Doggies don’t make good champions?”

“No,” she replied, drily.

“Do you really think we’ll be able to change them back?” I asked, worry cutting through my other Blondie-related anxieties.

“I know we will,” she answered. “We just have to find those locks. With the power the creature contains, we can fix both Nell and Anyan.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Positive. But we have to go. As soon as we check out whatever that explosion was, we’ll head straight over to Gus’s rock.”

I nodded, and then had a thought.

“Why can’t you be the champion?” I asked.

She was about to answer when she stopped and got a funny, faraway expression on her face.

“Well,” Blondie agreed, eventually. “Both Nell and Anyan are out of the picture.”

“It makes sense. You have the most power. And you were drawn to Rockabill, like everyone else.”

“Drawn to Rockabill?”

“Yeah,” I said. “We figured that’s why there’s all the supes here. Power draws power,”

“Is that why you’re here?” she said, grinning.

I laughed. “Nope, I was born here. So, are we going to tell the others?”

She frowned. “The fewer people who know the truth, the safer we all are. If one of us falls into enemy hands, or even just babbles the truth, everyone would be looking for the creature and its power, not just the few people who already know the legend.”

I thought about what she had told me, and whether either Caleb or Iris or the others really needed to know it. Finally, I nodded, agreeing with her estimation that I needn’t tell anyone what she’d just told me. Yet.

“So do you trust me, Jane?” Blondie asked, suddenly serious.

Not answering her for a moment, I watched as Iris and Caleb finally managed to shove Anyan into the car and shut the door. Suddenly, I made my decision.

“Sure,” I said, smiling at her. “I trust you.”

She returned my smile, obviously relieved.

“Good,” the Original said, moving in for a hug.

Her arms went around me and I gave her my own hug. She felt lean and long against me, and I felt my libido cock a (bi)curious eyebrow. Telling it to hush, I waited till she’d released me.

“ ’Bout ready to go?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” I replied. “I just have to text someone, and then make a quick call.”

As she walked away, I readied my phone. I waited, my fingers crossed that my plan would work, as Blondie talked with Caleb, her back to me. Then I hurriedly snapped a photo of her profile as she turned to talk to Iris. When she turned to cast a glance back at me, I snapped a full-on photo of her while pretending to text. The picture wasn’t great, with the sun behind her, but it would have to do.