Page 101 of Anchored to the Storm

This multi-layered full-circle moment was a tough one. My shoulders caved. I fought to breathe. I was about to taste part of my beloved past, and now had confirmation that my extended family would someday be with me again. “A once forced fighter to a now compassionate healer.” I shook as I grabbed my fork. “Thank you, all of you, for being the best protectors of the underworld.” Then, my heart on fire with the saddest joy, I scooped some food and put it in my mouth.

Instantly, the flavor of her handmade meatballs and sauce sang to my taste buds. Sang to my soul.

Chewing through tears, I appreciated every pat on the back and shoulder. Most of all, I appreciated the kiss to the top of my head. “The bravest. Our Baby Boy.”

With a wonderful meal in my belly, I had the strength to see a certain individual to Hell. We walked as one, through the night, toward the shed. I told them, “He’s the devil to me. I’d like him to look disfigured as a deity from Hell by the time we are done with him.”

“You just cried over your grandmother’s spaghetti, and now want to recreate the devil so you can kill him?” Peacemaker gawked at Styx. “Your blood is thick in his veins!”

“And Saleeni’s not even in danger,” Styx pffted.

A collection of audible shivers went through the men.

Outside the shed, I said, “Definitely need a split tongue. Even devil cartoons have that. I’m still trying to figure out how to recreate horns.”

“Big ones or small ones?” asked Cocky.

I tilted my head.

“Well, we could super glue his fingers or shin bones to his head.”

One must step into the dark side to reply as I did. “Big.”

Letti mentioned, “We need tourniquets, so he doesn’t bleed out.”

“Good thinking,” said Styx, as if getting a suggestion of a new meatball ingredient.

Peacemaker said, “I packed superglue somewhere. I’m sure of it.”

Adrenaline kicking in, my fangs appeared. “Let’s do this.” I reached for the shed’s handle, noticing no one was following me. Peering back at them, everyone but Styx was staring at my mouth.

He teased, “Hearing about it over the phone is way different than seeing it in the flesh.”

Letti’s cell phone pinged in his hand. The sound startled him, and he threw it in the air. Fumbling to catch it, he griped, “I’m not usually such a puss!” Then he studied his phone. Then he brought it closer to his face.

“Talk,” demanded Styx, no longer playful and happy to cause pain.

“Got an alert from the camera down the street from the Weathers’.” He was still examining an image. “Unfamiliar car parking.”

Styx already had his phone in his hand, tapping on the screen.

Cocky told me, “Weapon check,” as he started patting his side pockets for guns and whatever else he was carrying.

I ran to the SUV, feeling like a rookie. I’d left mine there when getting the slug removed.

Peacemaker double-checked the shed, then locked Noma’s door, while Styx barked into this phone, “Possible security breach at Weathers’. Dump Sugar and roll.” Then he directed, “Kid, the back.”

Grabbing my holster, knuckles, and the knife Styx had used on me, I jumped in and made my way to the back row.

“Letti,” barked Styx.

“Heard.” He got in the front passenger seat, while Cocky and Peacemaker got in the second row.

Tires threw rocks and grass as Styx punched the gas. “Veng is fifteen out.”

Cocky vowed, “He’ll be there in eight.”

Scared for my family, I had to ask. “No nine-one-one?”