Blueshift
47
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Blueshift Chapter Forty Seven (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta…
InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are loverly and wondermous for
archiving/hosting.
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for a few days. I’ll have some chapters
set up to be sent out but…yeah, lol.
Just thought a head’s up so there’s no “Where’s the chapter?????” emails
waiting when I get back… Thank you a million times over for reading/reviewing
as you get the chance.
“I don’t
fucking believe this…”
“How many
times is he going to say that?”
“Until
something shuts him up… Lance,” Amara said sharply, “stop it.”
“But…”
“Lance,
listen to me,” Amara said calmly, taking hold of his upper arms and forcing him
to pay attention, “you’re fine, I’m fine, we’re all fine… we’re home now…”
“But I don’t…”
His words turned into a choked gasp as Mars’s fist connected with his jaw.
“That,”
Amara said tersely, “was uncalled for!”
She knelt beside Lance on the floor of the diner.
town between
Lance was officially unconscious. “Now we’re
going to have to carry him,” she added after making sure he was still
breathing. They were virtually alone in
the greasy spoon and Mars hitting Lance at not so much as raised an eyebrow
from the two other patrons and the waitress on the other side of the
counter.
“We’ll wait
for him to come to,” Mars sighed, reverting to Amara’s native tongue.
scares people such as your consort.”
Amara
slowly stood, unsure whether to respond or not.
“I am somewhat confused myself… why did we have to come here?
arrange our release?”
“You would
have rather waited in that pit instead of come with me?” Mars asked, a dark
brow arching. He was wearing some sort of nondescript uniform, the cut of the
clothing implying military service but no tell-tale insignia inviting
questions. He swept his gaze over Amara’s
travel worn clothing, hastily washed in some way station they had passed on the
drive from
“We’re
almost home,” she said wearily, not feeling at all like a princess for the
moment. “Please, let’s go. Lance is
coming to… let’s just go home.”
Lance sat
up slowly, spiting a mouthful of bloody saliva onto the floor.
believe I just said that out loud…”
Amara bit
her lip and glanced at Mars, gauging his reaction.
him.”
“Don’t irk
him?” he asked incredulously, accepting her hand up.
“And I’ll
do it again if you don’t keep your voice down and do as you’re told.
gods. My choice would have been to let
you rot but I answered to someone higher than myself,” he said with a hint of
ire. “You were chosen,” he directed his
words to Amara, effectively dismissing Lance from his thoughts.
Amara
inhaled sharply, her eyes going wide. She
nodded quickly, her teeth making indentations in her lower lip as she worked
her hands together in a gesture of nervousness.
“Yes, I… I’ve been disrespectful.
I’ll make sacrifice when we return home and I can get to my altar…”
Mars tilted
his head to one side. “No need for blood yet, Amara.
Lance
narrowed his eyes but held his tongue.
Something was familiar about the situation and he could not quite place
it. It lacked the hallmarks of the
previous incident with the Pantheonics.
thought to himself, following the oddly meek Amara and their “rescuer” out to
the beat up Chevy Nova. He had made a
comment, when they had first arrived after the strangest flight of his life, at
the tiny airport in
had expected a god to drive a better car.
Amara had been aghast and Mars had been stonily silent.
the smell of old cigarettes and sour beer.
It had not gotten any better despite leaving the windows open.
swung out of the diner’s small gravel parking lot.
highway and absolutely blanketed the sweep of bare ground leading to the woods.
The closer they got to Bayville, the heavier the woods became, the terrain sloping
towards the bay so many miles away.
Lance pressed the sore side of his face against the cold window and
closed his eyes. He did not believe for
one moment that this man was a god any more than he believed
had really been just helping Storm get something out of her eye that day in the
kitchen. Opening one eye, he looked at
Amara. She was staring straight ahead,
her eyes unblinking and her skin pale in the light of the watery afternoon
sun. She had stopped chewing her lower
lip but it was still red, almost bleeding, and he could tell she was shaking
even from his distance. His glance slid
to Mars and he froze. A fine dusting of
white powder speckled the dark vinyl of the seat around the headrest and the
dark fabric of the uniform Mars wore. Lance
sat up carefully, trying to look nonchalant, and leaned forward as if he were
trying to see out of the windshield. He
could not see where the powder was coming from but it was definitely not
dandruff, he thought disgustedly. “Hey,”
he said as if making a great joke. “Get
this car from Pablo Escobarname="_ftnref1" title="">
something?”
Mars
glanced into the review mirror and smiled tightly at Lance.
“Lance,”
Amara said softly, “please…”
“Just looks
like someone had themselves a little blowhref="#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" title="">
back here and missed a twenty.” He
swiped his finger across some of the powder and held it up where Mars and Amara
both could see it.
Mars sighed
and accelerated around a truck as they entered the traffic patterns of a larger
town. “Lance, there’s a reason why Amara
was chosen and not you. You,” he said a
bit more loudly, “don’t know when to shut up.”
Amara made
a noise that was something like a whimper combined with a groan.
the Institute!”
“Amara,” he
began, only to be cut off by the loud blast of a truck horn. “HEY! Watch where
you’re going!” he shouted at Mars as the older man swerved back into the proper
lane.
“I can’t
drive if I’m distracted,” he replied sweetly.
Lance bit
back a retort and sat back in his seat.
He knew what was wrong now. He
knew what was going to happen and he almost hated Amara for being so blind.
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