Taken With A Grain Of Salt (Salt Series Book 2)

  TAKEN WITH A GRAIN OF SALT

  Salt Series: Book Two

  Aaron Galvin

  Aames & Abernathy Publishing

  Copyright 2014 by Aaron Galvin

  Published by Aames & Abernathy Publishing, Chino Hills, CA

  Edited by Annetta Ribken. You can find her at www.wordwebbing.com

  Copy Edits by Jennifer Wingard. www.theindependentpen.com

  Cover Design by Greg Sidelnik gregsidelnik.com

  Ebook formatting by Valerie Bellamy www.dog-earbookdesign.com

  Cover photo by Christopher Meder

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

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Find out more about Aaron Galvin and the Salt Series:

  Website: www.aarongalvin.com

  Salted fanpage: www.facebook.com/saltseries

  Twitter: twitter.com/aarongalvin5

  this one’s for Dad.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Appendix

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Salem's Vengeance excerpt

  “Come away, O human child!

  To the waters and the wild

  With a faery, hand in hand,

  For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.”

  – W.B. Yeats, excerpt from The Stolen Child

  CHIDI

  I weel find you, Chidi. And keel ze ones you run weeth.

  Chidi stirred awake. Bright lights bathed the inside of the SUV. She smelled gasoline. Heard the quiet thrum of a pump, a constant clicking as fuel clunked through rubber piping into the vehicle’s gas tank.

  Chidi wiped the blurriness from her eyes.

  Zymon’s Selkie guardian, Wotjek, slouched outside her window, his hand at the pump. Despite his casual stance, Chidi noticed his vigilant gaze locked on the darkened road and interstate ramps not a quarter mile away.

  Chidi sat up.

  The balding man she once considered mousey stared back at her in the rearview mirror. Now, she thought of him as a rat.

  “It seems I was wrong about you,” said Zymon Gorski. “I had not thought a beautiful girl would risk sleeping in the company of strangers. Lucky for you I am no slaver.”

  Chidi ignored his taunt. “Where are we?”

  “Does it matter? You are free now, girl. Relax. Sleep soundly like your friend.”

  Chidi had not noticed Racer also slept. His head against the window, he snored contentedly, oblivious the car had even stopped at all.

  She glanced over her shoulder to the back seat and noticed the two kidnapped teens remained unconscious. “Wh—” She swallowed to quench the dryness in her throat. “Where is Allambee? Why have we stopped?”

  “Is that worry I hear in your voice? Yes, I think so. But then only a fellow slave would recognize it as such. Tell me, do you even now fear your master will find you?”

  Chidi would not deny it.

  Zymon chuckled. “Fear is not a bad thing. It has kept me safe these many years on the Hard. To cast it aside is to forget the one truth all slaves know…” His gaze flickered to her again. “Anyone can be taken.”

  Chidi fought off a shudder. “Where is Allambee?” she asked again, firmer.

  Zymon lazily jerked his head in the gas mart’s direction. The brightly lit interior highlighted racks of junk food at the threshold to tempt any customers. And through the window, Chidi saw him—a boy on the eve of reaching his teen years, perusing the aisles in an environment as alien to him as this new freedom felt to her.

  She reached for the door handle.

  “Do you see what I do, girl?”

  Chidi hesitated.

  “Fearless,” Zymon whispered of Allambee, almost in awe. “The simple thought we might leave him behind has never occurred to his innocent mind.”

  Chidi’s fingers left the handle.

  “What must that be like?” Zymon said. “To think the best of people…trust implicitly?”

  “I don’t know.” Chidi nudged Racer.

  His eyes fluttered open then closed to sleep again.

  “Nor I,” said Zymon. “Its bait comes in many forms, but in the end, trust is a trap. And so I trust no one—”

  Chidi watched Zymon’s gaze drift to his guardian still at the pump.

  “None but Wotjek.” Zymon opened his door. Glanced back at her. “But perhaps we must all learn to trust again…yes?”

  He chuckled at the irony of his own question. Then stepped out of the vehicle.

  Chidi watched him stretch outside her window. She dug her elbow into Racer’s rib cage. Needled him awake.

  “Ow!” Racer sat up. “What’re you doing, Chi—hey…where are we?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered. “Still in Indiana, I think. You were supposed to stay awake!”

  Racer rubbed his eyes. “I tried, Chidi. Really, I did.” He looked out the windows, surveyed the area. “Where’s Allambee?”

  Chidi watched Zymon round the back of the car to speak with Wotjek in their Polish tongue. She hated not understanding the words they spoke to one another, though her knowledge of the Czech language aided in guesswork. Maybe if I listen long enough I can learn—

  “Chidi,” Racer said.

  “What?”

  “Where is Allambee?”

  Chidi snapped back to their situation. “Inside. We need to get him back out here.”

  “Okay.” Racer shrugged. “Let’s get him.”

  Chidi noticed Wotjek watching her as he cleared his stringy hair out of his face. He has cold eyes. She decided. Henry eyes. She glanced at the empty road and interstate again. The slave fear Zymon spoke of wrapped its frigid fingers around her heart and squeezed, ever so gently.

  “No,” she said. “One of us needs to stay here.”

  “Why?” Racer asked.

&nbs
p; Zymon chuckled outside the car, then walked toward the gas mart.

  Chidi heard a rattle and clank as Wotjek pulled the gas pump free of the car and replaced it on the island station. A second later, he resumed his spot in the driver’s seat—quiet and smooth as shadow. She and he locked eyes in the rearview mirror.

  I weel find you, Chidi…

  Chidi fumbled at the handle. The door wouldn’t open.

  “Chidi,” said Racer. “What’s wrong? Where are you going?”

  “I-I need to pee.”

  She heard the unanimous click as all the doors unlocked.

  “Don’t go far,” Wotjek said, his voice low and accented by his native tongue. His command did not carry the harshness Henry’s often did, but it didn’t lack gravity either.

  You are with me now. Chidi understood. For better or worse.

  She hurried out.

  “Chidi…”

  “Stay here,” she said to Racer, noticing Wotjek yet watched her. “I’ll be right back.”

  Racer sunk back into the car. By the look of him, she guessed he still did not understand why she asked him to remain. He may not be nearly so innocent as Allambee, but Chidi knew then she had signed on to care for two pups. Racer would fight alongside her if need be, but Chidi realized passion meant little against a Selkie like Wotjek. Their fight with him at the Shedd Aquarium had been evidence of that.

  Chidi scurried through the open ramparts in the gas pump island and toward the mart. The doors jingled in welcome as she opened them.

  A gruff attendant behind the counter narrowed his eyes at her as she walked in. No sooner had his gaze left her than it went to Allambee.

  Two black kids enter a gas station after hours with no one around. She predicted his thought process. Both dressed in hooded sweatshirts.

  Chidi heard the attendant suck his teeth. Watched his right hand slip beneath the counter.

  He did not bring it back up. “Can I help you with something?” he asked her.

  “Restroom?”

  “We only got the one. There’s a fella in there right now.”

  A white fella. Chidi inferred by his tone. “I can wait.”

  The attendant nodded in affirmation she absolutely would. He scratched at his bushy beard with his free hand. “Mind if I ask where y’all from?”

  “Chicago,” Chidi said.

  She noticed the shake of his head, slight, but there.

  “Chidi!” Allambee hurried to her side, carrying a bag of pretzels, a couple candy bars, and bottled water. “Zymon said we should eat. He told me to pick out some food for you. I found dese.”

  He gave her the bag of pretzels and grinned.

  Fearless. Chidi smiled back. And innocent.

  “You two friends, I take it? Homies?”

  Chidi glanced up at the attendant. Felt something stir that she often fought down while under Henry’s yoke. “Yes.”

  “Well, he’s been in here a good long while. ‘Bout time to make a decision, don’t you think?”

  Allambee slouched. “I-I didn’t know what to choose—”

  “He’s not from here,” said Chidi.

  “Don’t think I ever heard truer words spoke,” replied the attendant. “So where’s he from if it ain’t Chicago?”

  “Kenya,” she said.

  The attendant snorted. “Course he is. Bet you are too, huh?”

  “No. I come from somewhere else.” Chidi gave Allambee the pretzels. She strutted toward the counter, eyebrow raised. “Should I tell you where?”

  The attendant stood up at her approach and still he kept his hand on something beneath the counter. Chidi assumed a gun.

  “Pardon me.”

  Chidi turned to see the poor excuse for a bathroom door left open. The lights inside revealed molded tile work alongside graffiti attendants, like the man behind the counter, had long since abandoned scrubbing.

  Zymon left its doorway to approach the counter. He carried a wooden rod with keys attached to the end. “Is there a problem?”

  “No problem, mister.” The attendant leered at Chidi. “This girl was about to tell me where she and this here boy come from.”

  “Is that so?” asked Zymon.

  “So she says. And I was about to tell her I don’t care. Long as they both get back there right qui—”

  Chidi felt a whoosh of air as Zymon whipped the wooden rod up and cracked the man in the head with it.

  Groaning, the attendant leaned against the countertop to steady himself.

  “A most impolite thing to say.” Zymon proceeded calmly around the counter. “Especially to one whom I owe my life.”

  Zymon slapped the rod across the inside of the attendant’s elbow.

  Chidi swore she heard his ligaments snap.

  The attendant’s face smacked the countertop as he fell. Zymon clocked him in the head with another swift blow. The attendant slumped into the case of cigarettes. His chest rose and fell, but he did not get back up.

  Zymon brushed what little hair he had left back into place. Hung the wooden rod back on the wall’s place nail. He looked to Chidi and Allambee. “I trust you’re nearly ready?”

  “Wh-why would you do that?” Chidi asked.

  “What exactly did I do? What you wanted to?” Zymon pointed to the attendant. “A most despicable creature. I’ve tolerated a fair share of them in my lifetime. More than I care to say. It has taken me these many years to learn I never had to. That if no one stands up to them, these…vermin…multiply. You must learn this lesson also.” He said to Chidi. “You who have so much to offer and don’t yet realize.”

  “How’s that?” Chidi asked.

  “You have a gift for linguistics, but you also know too much fear.” Zymon nodded in the attendant’s direction. “I’ll put your language skills to good use. The fear you must quell on your own.”

  Zymon opened the cash register.

  “What are you doing?” Allambee asked.

  Zymon stuffed the bills in his pockets. “What is necessary. We needed gas. Now we have that and money to spare.” He turned and looked at the security camera fixed in the corner above him. “Take anything you want from this place now. If you are not in the SUV when I finish ridding the evidence, we leave without you.”

  Chidi watched him take the wooden rod off the hook. He climbed atop the counter. Smashed the camera with it. Inspected the wiring that ran through the adjacent wall. Zymon muttered and sneered. He jumped down from the ledge then left them to pry open a supply door around the corner.

  Chidi turned back to warn Allambee. “We need to—”

  She saw him standing inside the entrance, his gaze fixed on something outside, not parked beneath the gas station’s metal canopy.

  What’s that sound?

  Chidi took a step toward the door. Then she recognized it. A siren…

  The anger the attendant had warmed inside her went cold, doused by the sight of flashing blue and red lights bound for the station. Leave. Her conscience urged. Now.

  “Allambee…” she squeaked.

  “What is that rack—” Zymon stopped mid-sentence. His eyes widened and he dove behind the counter.

  What is he searching for? Chidi’s fear rooted her to the floor. Forced her to watch the events unfold.

  The driver’s side door of their SUV opened. Wotjek scrambled out, stumbled through the small openings between the pumps and across the fuel tank island. Determined to beat the approaching death knell.

  And then Chidi saw Racer, the boy who hadn’t yet realized what the older Selkie did. He looked right at her. His expression confused at why Wotjek would abandon him in such a hurry.

  “Racer!” Chidi screamed too late.

  The police car never slowed as it veered into the lot. The driver’s door opened. A body fell out, tumbling and turning across the pavement like a spindle with no thread to unravel.

  The police car careened into the back of the SUV. It jolted the parked vehicle forward and tipped into the tanks. The clam
or of metal striking metal shut out the screaming siren, but only just.

  Chidi threw her arms up to shield her from an explosion that never came.

  The pumps shuddered under the attack against them. One fell into the concrete aisle.

  The SUV lay flipped on its side. A glittering spider web had taken over the windshield, marked with smatterings of blood. And at the base, tucked between the glass and dashboard, the hooded, tannish hide of a California Sea Lion and its owner’s blond hair.

  Racer… Chidi thanked the Ancients she saw only the back of his head. Looking into his blue eyes, once filled with hopeful freedom, and seeing them turned lifeless would wreck her. I’m going to find a way to buy me some fakes, she remembered him saying at the Shedd. And once I get them, I’m gone. None of you will ever see me again! Chidi closed her eyes and felt her cheeks warmed by tears.

  “Wotjek,” Zymon whispered.

  Please. Chidi shook. Not again…please, don’t let this happen again.

  She opened her eyes and learned her prayer went unanswered.

  A figure stumbled out of the darkness like a demon cast from hell and drawn toward the light. Thin lines, freshly cut from the gravel he had landed upon, bled out and streaked across his wizened face. He scarcely seemed to notice as he staggered toward the destroyed SUV. The pale gleam of his black dagger catching the light as it swayed with each step he took.

  “Chee-dee…” Henry Boucher called in a singsong voice. “Where eez my Chidi…”

  CHIDI

  Chidi pawed at Allambee’s hoodie. She pulled him back from the door. Brought him down beside her. She crouched near the aisle and peeked through a pair of spinning towers—one holding sunglasses, the other flavored suckers.

  “Come out, Chidi!” Henry snarled as he strode toward the wrecked SUV.

  She watched him open the trunk. The legs from one of the Dryback teens flopped on to the asphalt.

  Henry gave them little attention. He knelt to survey the inside. Sneered at not finding what he desired. Then turned to the gas mart.

  Chidi shrunk away, certain he had seen her.

  “Do not worry,” Zymon said calmly, even as he used the counter for a shield. “Wotjek will protect us.”