Special Attraction (The Coursodon Dimension Book 3) Read online

  Special Attraction

  Book 3 of the Coursodon Dimension Series

  By M.L. Ryan

  Copyright © 2013, M.L. Ryan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s warped imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, business establishments, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

  For my boys….

  Acknowledgments

  As usual, a lot went into this book aside from my sitting down and actually writing it. I have to thank my fabulous beta-readers, Charlie and Thianna, for pointing out the plot holes and forcing me to rethink a few pivotal scenes, and my editor extraordinaire, Cynthia Shepp, for fitting me into her busy schedule and correcting my vast array of punctuation and grammar mistakes. (Hey, there’s a reason I didn’t major in English.)

  I’d also like to express my gratitude to my fans that boosted my spirits when the words just weren’t flowing. It’s nice to know that there are people who appreciate the work and anxiously await the next installment. Thanks for all your support!

  Finally, I could never publish anything without the unconditional support from my husband and son. Many nights and weekends were spent hunched over my laptop instead of with them, and they never grumbled. Well, maybe a few times, but all in all, they have been nothing but supportive. I am a lucky woman to have these two wonderful men in my life. I love you both, but be prepared guys, the fourth book is clamoring in my head.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  About the Author

  1

  I only saw legs—human ones—sticking out from under the dense carpet of fallen leaves. That alone was disturbing enough, but there were three of them, and none looked like they came from the same person. The one farthest to the right was dark-skinned, large, hairy, and was only from the calf down. It partially obscured a much smaller, albeit mainly intact, smooth leg, which was pale. The last appendage had freckled flesh and was missing its foot. I thought it was ironic, therefore, that it was located about twelve inches away from the others. It also lacked most of the thigh, and the bend of its knee reminded me of the number seven. I found it somehow curious that if you added that to the number of toes on the wayward foot, you still got a foot. Seemed like karma to me.

  It was close to one in the morning, but the almost-full moon provided enough light to allow me a bird’s eye view—literally—of the macabre display. Perched in my avian form on a large branch above the carnage, I was able to survey the area unnoticed. Or, if anyone did notice me, they would never think the big brown bird in the tree was anything to worry about. Out of place perhaps—if some bird expert wondered why a desert-dwelling Harris’s hawk was in a Smokey Mountain forest. But no one would guess I was part of a team of supernatural enforcers called Xyzok that protect humans from inter-dimensional bad guys. Hell, I had trouble believing it most days.

  It had been a few months since I’d first discovered I could change into a hawk. Going birdy was an after-effect of being possessed by Sebastian Kess, a Xyzok from a parallel dimension who had been trapped in my Kindle eBook reader before he got trapped inside me. Long story short, everyone in the other dimension—Coursodon—had varying levels of magical abilities and Sebastian, who is quite magically endowed, left a little bit of his power in me when he returned to his own body. Mostly I was a bust when it came to wielding arcane talent, but I was capable of form-bending, a rare ability coveted by some and reviled by others. Over the course of a few months, my mundane human existence morphed into what it is now. I was still human. Well, mostly I guess, but life was a lot less boring.

  I flew around a bit, but didn’t see any more body parts, or the psycho Courso who had ripped up the hikers. The three college classmates, two guys and a girl, all just twenty years old, had been hiking the southern section of the Appalachian Trail. They had been checking in via cell phone regularly, but with the spotty coverage along the trail, their families weren’t too worried when they hadn’t heard from any of them in a day or so. But when the silence extended well beyond their usual timeframe, the local authorities in Tennessee and North Carolina were notified. The initial searchers found nothing, but a few days later a separate group of hikers made the grisly discovery of a human hand about a hundred yards off the trail in Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Fingerprinting identified it as belonging to one of the missing trio and soon hundreds of law enforcement officials, both state and federal, were combing the area.

  A Coursodon contact with ties to the National Park Service police gave the Xyzok the first inkling that they needed to get involved. During the search of the area, an abandoned campfire pit was discovered, complete with some human remains. While the rest of the group focused on traditional forensic methods to determine that the bone fragments belonged to the two other missing hikers, the NPS Courso could sense the magic that still pervaded the area. For the last two days, various bits of the three had turned up along a more-or-less northerly trajectory from where the original hand had been found. The magical signature left behind grew stronger along the grisly trail of dismembered parts, and the Xyzok hoped the perpetrators weren’t too far ahead.

  My job was to fly around and try to get a look at whoever was responsible. As Yterixa—one who is able to change into animal form—I was ideally suited for this type of reconnaissance not only for the obvious reason that, as a bird, I excelled at aerial surveillance. More importantly, my magic wasn’t detectable when I became feathered, which meant any Courso wouldn’t suspect they were being watched. But after a week of tracking, the perpetrator always eluded us.

  Having accomplished nothing except getting yet another eyeful of the gruesome carnage, I winged my way back to where the command post was located, about six miles away. As I flew over the treetops, it occurred to me that being able to do so made travel a breeze. I would have laughed at my pun, or maybe groaned, except either was hard to do with a beak.

  Circling once before landing, I lighted upon the roof of the mobile command post. The MCP looked like the moderately sized motorhomes used by law enforcement agencies to centralize operations in the field. With state-of-the-art satellite communications and surveillance equipment right next to a fully stocked galley, it provided the Xyzok with everything they needed to search for inter-dimensional desperados in the same ways it might be utilized by a human constabulary. And for the most part, it operated similarly as well. The major difference being that unless one was given a sort of magical passcode, it remained completely invisible, both visually and physically. Someone could walk right through the thing and never know it was there. Perpetuating this invisibility took a lot of combined magic, but the Xyzok had enough to spare. With stealth and a constant supply of fr
esh-brewed coffee, one could hardly ask for more in a covert operation.

  The moment I landed, a tall man exited the vehicle and glanced up at me on the roof. A light breeze fluttered his wavy blonde hair away from his face. I smiled at the sight—internally at least—and thanked my lucky stars that this wondrous man was in my life. Elbow bent, he extended his right arm away from his lean but muscular body, and I glided down. He wore no protection over his forearm other than the jacket he donned to keep out the chill of the mountain air. I was careful not to grab onto him too hard as I wrapped my sizeable talons around the perch he provided.

  “Glad you’re back, carisa,” Alex said softly. He leaned toward me as he spoke, and I rubbed my head against his stubbly cheek.

  “Right back at you.” I didn’t actually say that, because avian vocal chords are not conducive to speech, and he was so not Dr. Dolittle. One of the other bonuses of being Yterixa was the ability to push my human thoughts out so others could hear them. That really came in handy when the only sounds you could muster were the hoarse, raucous squawks normally associated with a Harris’s hawk.

  I continued to lean my head against Alex. I loved the way his unshaved skin felt on my feathers. Come to think of it, his smooth flesh felt pretty good too, whether I was feathered or not. Alex Sunderland had been Sebastian’s Xyzok protégé, and we became acquainted when Alex came to Tucson to try to figure out what the hell had happened to his missing mentor. Without Alex helping me to understand the man’s voice in my head, I would have thought I was going insane. Of course, I still questioned my sanity somewhat when he explained I was inhabited by a guy from another dimension, but for some reason, that scenario was way easier for me to accept than dealing with auditory hallucinations.

  “No luck, I assume?” he asked softly.

  “Nope,” I replied silently, propelling the words out so Alex could “hear” me. “Found some more parts—legs this time—but no sign of who put them there. We always seem to be one step behind this asshole.”

  “I suppose, then, it’s only fitting that he left only legs this time,” Alex replied with a chuckle.

  A deep voice boomed behind us. “Alexander, I believe you may be spending too much time with our Hailey. Your comment is all too reminiscent of her usual drollery.”

  Sebastian stood about a yard away, arms crossed over his broad chest. The light from the interior of the van spilled out through the open side door and illuminated him from behind. The glow accentuated his large shoulders and chiseled features. It made him appear almost godlike. Almost. Sebastian and I had a unique bond, one that defied any normal conventions. I loved him like a father. A really arrogant, egotistical hunk of a father. There was absolutely no physical attraction between us, but we managed to annoy each other much like ex-lovers who didn’t part well might if they were forced to spend lots of time together. I’m sure some high-priced, private-medical-school-educated psychiatrist would have a field day with that little piece of self-awareness.

  “Yo, Sebastian. You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I wanted to add an eye roll to highlight my annoyance, but expressions were limited when you lack eyebrows.

  “I have to agree with Hailey,” Alex added, his gorgeous, cornflower-blue eyes gazing lovingly into mine. “I rather like her sense of humor.”

  Damn, I really wanted to kiss him. I settled for another rub against his face. It was nice, but paled in comparison to what I planned to do later.

  Apparently put-off by our affectionate display, Sebastian gave us a dismissive hand wave and turned to go back inside. “In any event,” he called over his shoulder, “she needs to feed before she changes back.”

  As he entered the MCP, I heard him request that someone bring me some chow. Form-bending was a highly energy-intensive process. If I didn’t eat before and after a change, I felt like I’d consumed three-week old, unrefrigerated potato salad that had been inoculated with one of those nasty stomach viruses people catch on cruise ships. Good times. As a hawk, I always had a taste for something mammalian and freshly dispatched as my pre-back-to-human snack. During the day, I could hunt for some tasty squirrel or rabbit myself. But, because my eyes weren’t well-adapted for low-light conditions, at night I risked bodily injury if I tried to hunt.

  I heard the humming of the microwave and, in less than a minute, Aiden, another Xyzok who often worked under Alex and Sebastian, appeared. He had a typical redhead’s complexion and, in hawk-vision, his face was almost completely covered with reddish-brown freckles of varying sizes. He smiled when he approached, holding a nicely warmed hunk of sirloin in a ceramic bowl, and greeted me with his usual, “Hello, heroic human.”

  “Not so human at the moment.”

  Laughing, Aiden placed my dinner on the ground. “I guess not, but I’m sure the heroic part still applies.”

  I tore into the steak. Aiden knew exactly how I liked it—heated to around ninety-nine degrees Fahrenheit to mimic a fresh kill. When I was human, the whole eating-something-I’d-just-killed thing kind of disgusted me. I was pretty sure that if there was such a thing as reincarnation, my next fifty or so lives would be lived out as small, furry creatures eaten by ravenous predators to atone for my current habits. In a perhaps vain attempt to circumvent my fate, I rarely ate meat when I wasn’t feathery.

  When I had consumed every last morsel, I took a brief detour back into the woods. Being the modest type, I preferred to shift back to human form somewhere private. Not that I cared if anyone witnessed the transformation; in fact, the nearly instantaneous process was devoid of major unpleasantness. I did end up naked, and I wasn’t comfortable with anyone other than Alex getting an eyeful. While the tiny bathroom in the back of the MCP provided privacy, I learned from experience that it’s best to relieve oneself outside while still in bird form. The first time I changed back in the MCP without preemptive excretion, it took two days and a whole lot of magic to restore the lavatory to usable order.

  My alimentary cleanse complete, I hopped onto Alex’s shoulder, and we headed into the MCP. Aiden, who was holding the door to the bathroom open, winked and said, “Your chamber awaits, m’lady,” before bowing.

  Ignoring his teasing, I flitted onto the ridiculously small, metal commode. The functional, but airplane-sized, booth had a sink, shower, and toilet. Actually, the whole room became the shower, and you had to sit on the closed toilet seat while bathing. The efficient design had a dual purpose of providing the entire space with a good wash down during every shower, an added benefit that should not be disparaged when sharing close quarters with a bunch of men.

  As soon as the door closed, I began the process of transforming back into me. I just envisioned morphing into my other shape, and my body sort of followed along. It wasn’t particularly difficult, but even if I consumed the proper calories to avoid the nausea, I remained pretty wiped out for some time afterward. I’m not sure why I didn’t feel that way when I went from human to bird, but Hewlyxnathin, fellow Yterixa and tutor, speculated that the difference lay in the number of bends, not the form into which one shifted. Sebastian thought it had to do with the change in body mass. Whatever the explanation, the gut-wrenching fatigue was the only thing about form-bending that I didn’t look forward to. That, and the occasional post-bend craving for raw rabbit.

  I began to picture my wings becoming arms with smooth flesh, instead of feathers, covering a much larger frame. Almost instantaneously, I was crouching on the cold toilet. The position was awkward, and the close quarters made unfolding a bit of a chore. I finally managed to maneuver my legs so I was actually sitting when I heard Alex call through the door, “You okay in there?”

  I was exhausted and didn’t want to expend any extra energy forming unnecessary words. When I was well-rested, sometimes I could project short, simple thoughts while in human form, but that required almost as much exertion as post-transformation speaking. I opted for a straightforward and relatively effortless grunt to signal my return to Homo sapien status.

  For t
he first few minutes after a bend, my temperature regulation was usually all screwed up, and I was often quite cold. Sitting bare assed on a metal toilet seat didn’t help any in that regard, and I started to shiver. Alex must have heard my teeth chattering because the door opened a crack and a white robe appeared in front of me. Gotta love a boyfriend with supernatural hearing, I thought as I grabbed it, wrapping myself in the fluffy, micro-plush fabric. Carefully, I stood. Yes! No dizziness. Assured I wouldn’t end up face-first on the floor, I tied the belt around my waist and walked slowly out into the narrow vehicle.

  Alex leaned against the wall to the right and bestowed me with one of his dazzling smiles. He enveloped me in his sinewy arms and gave me a quick kiss before inquiring, “How do you feel?”

  I was average sized for a woman, but at six foot four, Alex towered over me. The ten-inch height difference between us made vertical displays of affection somewhat awkward, but I pressed my cheek against his chest nonetheless. The flannel shirt he wore was soft, and I breathed in the scent of him. For some inexplicable reason, he always smelled liked some flavor of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, at least to me. No one else seemed to share my assessment of his aroma, however.

  “Aiden, come over here, will you?” I waited with my nose still jammed into the fabric until he made his way to where we stood. “Tell me you don’t smell Cherry Garcia?”

  Taking a hesitant sniff, Aiden glanced at Alex for a moment before answering. “I don’t know. Last week, I could almost imagine that he smelled like Chunky Monkey. Today, I only get a whiff of scented dryer sheets.”

  Shit. I hated being placated, and I knew the look they exchanged reeked of it. “Last week he smelled like Phish Food,” I huffed, placing my hands firmly on my hips. “He hasn’t smelled like Chunky Monkey for months. What about you, Cortez?”