The Foul Mouth and the Cat Killing Coyotes (The King Henry Tapes) (16 page)

“King Henry, I know I’ve fostered and encouraged independence and
self-reliance on you before but
now is not the time for play
.”

“I don’t get it
. . . why are you so worried about this Vega guy?”

“Tell me what happened.”

“So he can turn into a coyote, is that supposed to scare me?  I don’t got any cats; don’t even have a doggy door for him to try to sneak in through, know what I mean?”

“Tell me what happened,” she repeated.

“I mean . . . guns . . . scary guns I can break in half with the Mancy, is that it?  That what’s so scary about him?  I ain’t scared yet . . . maybe you should be less worried about what happened and be more worried about filling me in on him.”

“I’m going to be there in a few hours,” she tried.

“I know.”

“What do you think I’m going to do to you if you don’t keep me at least moderately happy?”

“Probably something with air and my asshole.”

“You and your anal obsession
. . .”

“Say what?”

“Nasal cavity actually.”

I grabbed my nose just thinking about it.  “That’s cruel
. . .”

“That’s the
point
.”

If I’d
been doing anything productive, instead of sitting on a plastic seat thinking about if maybe I should grab a second bag of Funyuns, I probably wouldn’t have kept up the conversation.  But since I was just a waste of space . . . might as well get in some troubled student and badass stand-in auntie time.   “I was minding my own business when some werecoyotes started messing with this lady so I beat them up.”

“Tyson failed to mention this.
”

“Yeah, don’t think I mentioned it to him first off so
. . . not his fault.”

“What possessed you to attack the Coyote Nation after I told you to leave them alone?”

“I didn’t know they were Coyotes at the time . . . get it? 
Were
Coyotes?”

There was a sigh.

“Just looked like normal assholes to me . . .
my bad
.”

“You can sense the difference in the Mancy.”

Huh
.  “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Sensing has never been my best skill . . .”

“It probably would have made you agitated.”

“Yeah . . . nothing ever makes
me
agitated, how could I have missed it?”

“How many?”

“Three then . . .”

“It grew?”

“Pair of girls came out of the store nearby; one of them put a gun to me.”

“You didn’t conjure in public did you?”

“Nah, see, I knew the girl so it turned out alright.”

“How?”

It took a great deal of restraint to not throw my phone across the room.  Figure Deputy wouldn’t have liked it for one
. . . two, that phone was pretty nice.  “Don’t play stupid, Ceinwyn.”

“King Henry,
what am I supposed to be hiding from you?”

I frowned, went back and forth over whether she was
playing me.  “You have to know.  No way something
that
fucking big to
me
gets by you.”

“King Henry
. . .” Why is it that Ceinwyn can say my name like that and get all the anger dropping away?  Wasn’t fair.  “Perhaps it’s time for you to realize that I’m no more perfect than you are.  I don’t know
everything
.”

“Bullshit!”

“I admit I know
many
things, but not
everything
.  Even the Lady is fallible.”

I stopped myself from screaming into the phone, but just barely.  Don’t think Deputy would have liked that either.  Instead I calmly put it out there, my decibels way lower than I wanted them to be, “How does the Head of Recruiting for the Institution of Elements not know that Horatio
Vega is married to my sister?”

Stunned silence.

From Ceinwyn.

It might have felt good if it wouldn’t have been so damned scary.

Stunned silence.

From Ceinwyn
.

“You really didn’t know
. . .”

“Which sister?” she asked.

“JoJo.”

“Is she
. . . did he . . .”

“Yeah, he did. 
Not against her will but she’s over her head.  She might be some kind of princess or some shit but it’s one with a golden chain around her ankle.”

“You obviously didn’t convince her to leave with you or you really would be dead right now.”

“Nah . . . we just talked a little, then she went back.”

“The next day they attacked you
r shop.”

“Yeah.”

“Tyson explained how you fought them off.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty
awesome.”

“Why haven’t I heard of the magnetic
wall artifact before?”

“That really what you want to talk about right now?”

I could almost hear the smile.  “Are you going to hang up on me soon, King Henry?”

“Probably.”

“Your poor, poor nasal cavity . . .”

I distracted her with more story.  “
After the Coyotes took off I got T-Bone out of there quick with everything that’s related to the Mancy.  Then the cops came and I had myself an interview downtown.”

“What do they suspect?”

“Detective Ribera thinks I’m making bombs or modifying guns . . . something mechanical.”

“Good thing you didn’t go with a bakery.”

“Yeah . . . dodged that bullet along with all the rest, didn’t I?”

“ESLED will take care of the police.”

“What about Horatio Vega?”

“Are you doing something stupid, King Henry?”

I laughed.  Cold harsh laugh, rocks grinding all against each other, steel kissing steel.  “Something smart, Ceinwyn, something smart.”

“I’ll be there in a few hours.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“Let me handle this.”

“You know I’m not going to.”

“You’re not ready for this. 
I’m
barely ready for King Vega.”

“I handled Annie B just fine.”

She sighed.  In the background of her call I could hear the engine of her car picking up.  They’ve done some nice stuff with electric in the last few years but when you really needed speed . . . couldn’t beat gasoline.  “Anne was on your side, you seem to be forgetting that.”

“I don’t get it
. . . the first time we had a talk about Were Nations you laughed at them.  Thought they were funny, told me about sororities going cowgirl.”

“I didn’t know about
Vega then . . . I didn’t think something like him was possible.”

“Tell me.”

“Wait and we’ll deal with him together.”

“I can take him.”

“Like you
took
Anne?”

I paused long enough to pull the
phone from my ear and look at it with a frown.  “She . . . she—”

“—wasn’t supposed to tell me.  People lie to get what they want, King Henry.  All your faults as a child
. . . but that was never one of them, was it?  You’re always honest . . . perfectly honest.  Honest enough to think a vampire wasn’t lying to win a bet.  That she was vulnerable and you were doing her a favor . . .”

“Okay
. . . she told you we fucked to win the bet,” I practically spat into the receiver, “but you weren’t there, so don’t be deciding her motives after the fact just to manipulate me when it comes to this situation.  I saw her face; I saw
death
in those eyes of hers.  I’m good at calling bullshit, Ceinwyn.  This ain’t the Asylum.  I’m a big boy now, got it?”

“I can’t.
”

“What?”

“I can’t fly . . .”

“What
. . .”

“If I could fly
. . . right now I’d be flying to save your stupid ass.”

I sat down next to Valentine, by the fire Eva had started and Samson kept diligently going.  It was at full burn, filling the air with soot and giving up enough heat to almost make the night seem hot in that little slice of the wild.  I was a step away from taking my coat off . . . hoping Valentine would duplicate the action.

But Valentine was captured by the evil werewolves, King Henry!

Yes, kiddos, but it’s nighttime in this story now, so I’m thinking about the conversation I had with her the
night before
.  God damn, do I have awesome time-traveling narration powers!  Can this little Foul Mouth tell a story or what?  Now shut the fuck up while I do my penance.  Fucking Plutarch . . .

I sat down next to Valentine by the fire.

It brings a smile to my face just remembering how pretty she looked that night.  Not beautiful, not yet, that was a year or more off.  She was still too thin, too coltish.  But there was still something about her.  Firestarters have a habit of going two ways.  Either they’re emotional, likely to swing back and forth and go wherever they may, or they end up shining like a star, so bright, so damn worth having, but so far away . . . distant in their magnificence.

Valentine w
ent with Door Number Two.

Unless I tried to do anything with
her past second base, then it’s the Queen of Crazy.  But let’s forget those times, that’s another story, let’s focus on the star, let’s focus on the coolest girl I’ve ever known, and I’ve known some cool ones in my time.

Coltish back then, yet she still had the two features I’ve always marked her with.  Eyes so black they had no iris and cheekbones sharp enough to cut.  Then there’s her accent.  Valentine didn’t move t
o the good ol’ USA until she turned twelve.  Before that it was Melbourne.  I think ‘
cauliflower’
could sound sexy in an Aussie accent.

“Did you finally decide I’m not going to
make you explode?” she asked me, smile wan.

I looked around.  Everyone had just kind of sat where they would.  Welf’s group and Estefan’s group had claimed the tables.  Asa and Eva and Nizhoni were by th
e lake; that left the fire for misfits and worms.  “Nowhere else to be, so guess I’ll chance it.”

We ate
our hot dogs in silence.

I don’t exactly remember what Pocket and Miranda were up to but Samson must have had them doing something, else they would have been around.  Only the memory is clear, just me and Val.  Really the first time we ever talked.  After making her cry that first day followed by my
Boomworm
title-bestowing I was pretty embarrassed about the whole thing.  We’d avoided each other.

One hot dog down, I manned up.  “I’m sorry.”

She stared.

“About
. . . like . . . the dog thing . . .”

She shrugged.  “I’m over it.”

“Oh . . .”

What a fucking C
asanova!

“When I fir
st came here I worried I might hurt someone,” she said, hand self-consciously pushing stay blond hairs behind an ear, her red coat moving just enough so I could see a bit of collar bone at the base of her neck.  “I still worry I’m going to hurt someone . . .”

“Oh
. . .”

Who’s a Love Stud?  Not fourteen-year-old-me. 

“But I haven’t had an accidental discharge in four days now,” she continued.  “I’m starting to understand what Mr. Gullick is teaching us.”

I frowned
pretty hard over this.  “You mean . . . there’s a point?”

“Mental control I should think
.”

“Huh
. . . I thought he was just messing with us like all the rest of ‘em.”

I
t was Val’s turn to frown at me; it never went all the way to her face, just a hint of wrinkle at the base of her nose and right between her eyebrows.  “You really do think we’re at war with the teachers, don’t you?”

“Only when they fuck with me.  They ever start teaching me
the Mancy and I’ll be a good little student.  But for most of what we’ve learned so far?  Forget it.”

“And when did you last have an accidental discharge?”

I shrugged.  “Ain’t been a bit accidental for awhile now.  I try to discharge all the time.”

Some of
the star’s warmth faded.  “You could hurt someone.”

“People aren’t made of stone and one thing I’ve figured so far is that we can’t make
stuff up out of nowhere.”

Her face was puzzled.  “But I can
. . .”

“
Really?
”

“
Did you think there happened to be a barbecue on next to the dog?”

“Oh
. . .”

I ate
me another hot dog in silence.  Yes, I realize how ironic the food was given the conversation.

“Sorry about the nickname too,” I eventually said.

Valentine smirked, face proud.  “Don’t.  I kind of like Boomworm.”

[CLICK]

The fire was very different the next night and the girl sitting next to me wasn’t the enjoyable company Valentine had been.  Instead I was left with Miranda. 
No idea why Pocket picked
me
of all people to look over her and calm her down.  Just about anyone else could have done a better job.  Raj Malik sure looked like he wanted to try.

Pocket himself was too busy keep
ing Welf from being stupid.

The minute he realized Val and Hope were gone Welf wanted to raise a search party and of course he was looking to lead it himself, with Pocket as a
guide
.  Only Estefan and his bunch weren’t having it.  They wanted Pocket to help with camp.

Poor boy was the most popular kid in class all of a sudden.

So that left me all alone in calming down a distraught Miranda.  I ended up telling her to ‘
shut the fuck up and calm down, Valentine’s fine
. 
It’s just Samson, trust me
.’  Only I wasn’t buying my bullshit as much as I had earlier in the day.  How could Samson pick off three kids without anyone noticing?  Without a sound?  Maybe he
was
the biggest badass around . . . bigger than even I assumed . . .

Amazing thing is
. . . telling her to shut up worked on Miranda.  She also started buying my bullshit too. 
Valentine’s fine!  Valentine’s just tied up somewhere!  They’re all fine!
  Miranda kept repeating herself, sitting by the roadside on her rolled out sleeping-bag, hugging her knees, shifting back and forth like she was a step away from a real asylum.

All I could do
was keep an eye on her, placing my sleeping-bag next to hers, and trying to be a presence at her shoulder.  I made her drink some water and got her chewing on some jerky, which on account of being aeromancer she wasn’t too fond of, but at least she didn’t spit it out.

Sun went bye-bye really quick up in the mountains and without it the temperature started dropping.  Colder than the night before, closer to twenty than forty.  Pocket got Eva and Nizhoni working up a pair of fires the minute he
finished with Welf’s idiocy.  Welf sulked, not so different from Miranda, only more angry than scared.  Guess Hope would be happy to know she was missed . . . unless it wasn’t Hope he missed . . .

Son-of-a-bitch
, that just clicked for me . . .

[CLICK]

Miranda calmed down by the time we all settled in for th
e night.  The two fires were up at each end of our little makeshift sleeping spot beside the road.  A few of the boys were given spades and awarded guard duty.  They looked more nervous than anyone, but the presence of the girls made them puff those chests and at least pretend.

The Amazing Power of Pussy!

Even calm, Miranda wasn’t Val.  I can’t call her ugly.  She wasn’t
good
looking but she wasn’t
ugly
either.  She had some figure on her, I’ll give her that.  But . . . ginger . . . and glasses . . . and freckles . . . just not my thing.

“Do you think he’s keeping her warm, King Henry?”

She did have a nice voice though, with a soft Texas accent.  When it wasn’t scolding you at least.  I got scolded by Miranda a lot.  Not my biggest fan.  On the few times we’d been grouped together on class assignments there had been fireworks, and not the pretty kind, more like the kind that accidentally shoot off into the crowd.  “Sure, I guess.  Probably better off than us.”

Fires or not, fog boiled from my lips.  It looked like I was smoking and for just a second I let myself play the child and imagined it, trying to remember what a cig felt like.  I could have used one then.  Would have warmed me up some.  A cig and Sally to hold onto, snuggling next to that nice pair of plumb
. . .

I studied Miranda.

“What?” she asked, unsure.

“You want to like
. . . try to get warm?  You know . . .”

Her face went instantly disgusted, the blast of air escaping with her
urgh
frosting her glasses.  “Don’t be gross.”

“I’m cold, you’re cold
. . . just a thought.”

“Well,
stop thinking.”

People started settling down more.  Little Eva Reti kept throwing branches on the fires to keep them
strong while Nizhoni worked dirt to create some kind of windbreak around them.  Nizhoni is Native American if that’s not clear; Eva is Jewish . . . like,
from
Israel Jewish.  They were friends with Asa, but on account of her being a hydromancer she wanted nothing to do with the fires.

My eyes drifted, trying to stay awake.

Some were already asleep, but me . . . werewolves or Samson, I wanted to be ready to throw down.

Only
. . . such a long day . . . fire so warm . . .

LITTLE MANCER.

Holy shit.

It wasn’t in my head like in the dream but written in the dirt beside me.

Holy shit
, I thought again for good measure just before I scuffed the words out of existence with my palm.

I kept staring at the dirt.

“You asleep?” Miranda murmured on my other side.

“No
. . . just . . . uh . . . thinking . . . but . . . um . . . not of hugging you or anything.”

There was an unhappy sniff.  “I’d rather freeze,” she murmured.

LITTLE MANCER.

I
watched in awe as the dirt changed itself letter by letter.

What did I do?  Think at it?

What?

Nothing.

Aloud?  “What?” I asked.

Nothing.

“What do you mean
what
?” Miranda asked.

WHAT? I carefully scrawled in the dirt.  “If you’d rather freeze what would it take to get you to snuggle?  I have my skills
. . .” I tried to distract her.

Words were already writing themselves.

“You are so disgusting.  No woman would ever want to touch you.”

BE PREPARED.  THEY COME, TONIGHT.

Holy shit!
I thought a third time.

Just as I was about to write a response another body sat down in the dirt.  “I’d let him touch me,” she said.

This, kiddos, was not a good thing.  Any other girl in class: great.  Her:  not great.  Miranda’s right, fourteen-year-old-me is disgusting; he would have even put his thing inside of Hope’s frozen twat if she offered it.  His dick would have clanged off like the T-1000’s arm afterward, but he’d have made a try of it.  But
never
with the girl sitting across from him.

Isabel wasn’t merely
ugly
, she was . . . just . . . damn . . . sec, I’m trying to keep down throw up . . .

Okay
. . . you know, it’s actually hard to remember what she looked like.  By the time she got a hang of being a Faceshifter one week she’d be Megan Fox, the next she’d be pre-drunken slosh Lindsey Lohan, and the next . . . something she’d just make up that was jaw dropping gorgeous.  But the real her?  Got to sit here for a bit and remember it.

Right.  She had brown hair that curled into a mess.  Not dark brown to be lush but light brown that looked frayed and weak as straw.  She had a blocky figure and no chest at all, wouldn’t have needed a bra for nothing.  A nose too big, taking her cheeks with it, and almost no jaw-line, and definitely no chin.  She had moles on a cheek, three of them in a place where just one would have been pretty.  A forehead too big, eyebrows too thick and too close together.

Fourteen-year-old-me flinched at having her scoot up to him.  It didn’t help that suddenly Miranda was really enjoying herself.  I backed up a few inches to get space away from that face.  “I was just teasing, Isabel.  I’m not really cold.”