Mac took off her invisibility ring- because of course she made one for herself despite swearing to Gregg and Vanessa they had the only one- and she stared out from the tree line at Thrun's Bounty. Somewhere on that farm was the recipe she'd given to Gregg for reasons that now seemed stupid and girlish. If she didn't get it back, her mistake could sink her family's business. To say nothing of the defilement of generations of one of the Wyatt family's most precious secrets. She tapped her thigh. Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. To get the recipe back without her family finding out she needed to be cool. She needed to be calm. She needed to be collected. But, that shit just wasn't gonna happen.
She first felt the onset of the manic episode on the walk to the farm. That meant it'd been in full effect for who the fuck knows how long. Hours? Days? Whatever is was, the world was about to get really interesting.
"Interesting," Mac mused, laughed out loud then clapped a hand over her mouth. She breathed into her palm then pulled it away. "Yeah, that's what this is. 'Interesting.' Fuuucck."
The wind or a fly zipped by her ear and Mac swatted at it. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was the oversensitivity of her skin caused by the episode's sensory overload. The crickets in the grass were a chirping cacophony. The stars were ice picks in the sky. And her heart, oh baby, was that thing bump-bump-bumping. Pure, full on fucking euphoria tingled from her finger tips to her toes to her nose to her back teeth. Every impulse was to move, move, move and her brain was a Goddamn slot machine of random thinking. The waves on Sunshine Beach. Rachel's fashion sense. Cousin Fisher and his stinky armpits. The crowds on Liberty Street. Oh, and Singapore and Master Yu and the Children of Solace Cult in Northern California and the 674 tattoo on her stomach. And sex. Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex-sex-sex-sex-fucking-sex. Constantly in the verge of wetness. Constantly with nostrils full of other people's pheromones. But, shit, she couldn't even get laid properly. Hell, after that douche bag in town the other night, she was ready to swear off men all together. Lust plus frustration equaled a constant state of spine-tingling agitation. I mean how hard is it to penetrate a woman? You always have to do it for them. Her brain went blip-blip-blip and came up with, "I could always strum one out now."
"What the fuck are you even thinking about?!" Mac yelled and went to cover her mouth once more but the wind or a mosquito tickled her ear again and she chose to shoo at it instead.
She could see the lights of the Selfridge farm glowing in the distance. Tap-tap-tap. No one seemed to stir at her outbursts. Of course, who knows with fucking psychics? This was such a terrible idea. Sneak onto a farm full of bitter enemies? Find some- What? A piece of paper with a recipe? It made no sense. Absolutely none, and yet, it kind of did. The momentum of the idea was calling her, pulling her, dragging her into go-go-go myopia. Do it, do it now! Every beat of her heart said it again and again and again. Oh, my God, this fucking fly, Jesus Christ!
Mac threw out an arm trying to swat whatever it was and her hand hit something hard. Not hard like stone, but like- What? There's nothing there. A phantom sensation? No, real. Cloth? A jacket? A shoulder. A fucking arm!
She snatched out with her instantly glowing wolf hand and clamped down on- yes- definitely an arm. She heard a yelp of pain, but still saw nothing. She dug into whatever- whoever- it was and yanked toward her. A body, definitely a body, collided with Mac's and she leaned into it, hip checked and flipped the invisible person over her shoulder and into the dirt.
"Who the fuck?" Mac said, balling her fists.
Heavy breathing expelled from a body's impression flattening the scattered grass and leaves. So, so, so much adrenaline pulsed in Mac's veins that she shook, shook, shook with it. Fine, she thought, real fine. Perfect. Whoever the hell this is and gonna get a straight up South Carolina ass whupping.
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FEUD: Season 1Fantasy
It's been four years since the magical Wyatt family and the psionic Selfridge family called a truce to their centuries long war for Sunshine Beach. Now, these once rival supernatural bootleggers have found a peace and prosperity heretofore unknown t...