Swimming With The Sharks [Fantasy 1]

PROLOGUE Zotol walked into the home he shared with his beautiful mate. He couldn’t wait to tell him about all he had done for the day. Being Jinn was not all fun and games but today he had enjoyed a particularly lovely day swimming with his old friend Jabari. Jabari had shown him the wonders of the great Atlantic and damn he wished his mate would have joined them today, but the man was obsessed with two things... anything dealing with plants, and... the internet... ugh. Zotol would never understand the wonders people found in that computer space land. s**t, he couldn’t even turn one on without wanting to throw the f*****g thing across the room and why... he asked himself, why in the hell did the stupid thing have to speak an entirely different language? Zotol could speak just about every language around the world, and even those not part of this world, but computer talk... nope. RAM, Reboot, Cookies, Bits, Bites, Trojans, Worms... for the love of the gods, really? “Without a trojan I would like to ram my worm and bits into my mate’s cookies as he screams to the world, and once we reboot we can do it all over again. That is as close to a computer as I ever want to get.” Hearing the sound of his lovely mate’s sniffles stopped Zotol in his tracks. Why was Xolin crying? His beautiful mate should never cry. Zotol had promised his baby that he would never have a reason to feel sorrow, pain, or fear on the day they met, and hearing his quiet crying mate made Zotol’s heart feel like it would break. This had to be fixed, and whoever hurt his baby would have to die. Quietly, Zotol made his way further into the home he shared with Xolin. He’d never forget the day he had come here looking for an herb for a spell he wanted to try. Jinn didn’t often use spells, but he had been bored and wanted to learn something new. He had done that often, but then again, being immortal, things tended to become old after a period of time. That was why he had learned so many languages, studied so many religions, myths... not all were as mythical as they thought, just the stories—not exactly accurate most of the time—searched for about every shifter he had heard about in those lovely romance novels, and so many other things... like spell casting. The moment he had walked into Natural Fantasy, Zotol knew that his life was about to change. It wasn’t just the smell of fresh rain and wet earth that made goosebumps form all over his body, but the sight of Xolin bent over watering some plant or another. The sight of that man’s sexy ass made Zotol so hard, he worried if he accidently hit it, the damn thing would break off. Then Xolin stood and turned. The first thing that made Zotol forget to breathe was the lavender eyes staring back at his own emerald green. The color really popped with that long blond hair. Xolin was only a couple of inches shorter than Zotol’s own six feet, he couldn’t be much lighter than his own one seventy-five and his build... holy s**t, it was like the man went swimming every day. f**k, Zotol always had a weak spot for a muscle-toned swimmer. The man was a true god and when the man smiled... f**k, Zotol was sure he was going to come in his pants. Then he spoke the word, “Hello,” and Zotol had to think of his grandmother getting it on with his grandpapa in order to get his s**t under control. They had known from that very moment they were mates, and thank the gods, they didn’t waste any time bonding. That had been five hundred centuries ago and Zotol had never regretted it for a second and had kept his words he had spoken when he came inside his mate for the first time during the bonding. Yet, here his mate sat, looking at that stupid contraption screen and crying. “Who do I need to kill?” Zotol demanded, “I will kill whoever has placed those wet lines on your face and puffed up that adorable tweaky nose. Just tell me who and they will regret whatever the f**k it is they have done.” Xolin shook his head, blew his nose, then grabbed another tissue to wipe his eyes. His voice was rough from crying as he said, “No one did anything. There’s a viral post and it just broke my heart.” Xolin waved him over and Zotol immediately went to his mate’s side. “Viral? You’re sick? How is this even possible? Not only are you a druid and the son of Myrddin Wyllt, you are the mate of a Jinn. It isn’t possible for you to become ill.” A small laugh came from Xolin which had Zotol feeling a tad better, but also very confused. His mate cupped his cheek, saying, “If my father catches you calling him by his given name instead of Merlin, he is going to put you in one of those bottles with a ship inside... and no, I’m not sick, my love. A viral post is something put on the internet that millions of people view. You really need to at least try and learn at least the basics about computers. They are the tool of these present times.” Zotol waved his mate off. “Pfft. I’ve been around since almost the beginning of time, my heart. If I could make it through the sixties without being scathed, I do believe I can make it through the two thousands.” Xolin gave another laugh, which was what Zotol was going for. He then said, “Yes, those were some trying times. Fun but a little too carefree for my liking.” Giving his mate a soft kiss, Zotol rubbed his hardening c**k against his sexy mates, saying in a suggestive tone. “I don’t know. I seem to remember some very good times for my liking.” His mate smacked Zotol’s chest and laughed. “So do I. Now stop that, I have a buyer coming in a few minutes for some herbs he needs to help his sick dog.” Sighing, Zotol gave his mate a quick kiss. “Fine, but until then, show me this thing that made you cry.” Xolin clicked a few buttons and pointed at the picture of a nice looking young man. He was a bit on the thin side, and looked to be about five nine or ten with extremely short, blond, spiky hair and he was wearing a light jacket, which surprised Zotol since it was in the middle of June. “He’s nice-looking enough. A bit skinny for my taste, but nice looking. I don’t get it. Is it the fact that he’s wearing a jacket in the middle of summer that has the humans interested?” Shockingly, Zotol saw his lover’s eyes fill with tears once again as he shook his head. He swallowed once, then twice before he could actually speak and when he did his voice was rough and raspy, “He’s wearing a jacket because he has a hard time with body temperature regulation, and he’s so skinny because he hasn’t been able to eat. His name is Foster Witman. He just won his rights to take back his life from a court of law.” “What are you talking about? He looks old enough to make decisions for himself, why would he need to fight to make decisions for himself?” Zotol asked. Xolin wiped his eyes and explained. “Foster has suffered from a form of Leukemia since he was ten years old. He has been treated time and again, and just when they thought they had it beat, the disease would return again and again. Foster didn’t want any more treatments, but just before his eighteenth birthday, his parents went to the courts and had the judge make them his medical guardian.” “Okay. That seems reasonable if the man couldn’t make those choices for himself.” Zotol replied. “He had cancer not a developmental disability, love. The thing is, Foster was trying to get his rights back from the time he was eighteen, but with the cancer and all the treatments it took a great deal of energy.” “Energy he didn’t have.” Zotol stated in understanding. Nodding, Xolin said, “At nineteen his cancer went into remission again and he was recovering from all the treatments. He finally went to the courts and filed to have his rights returned to him, but the judge denied him his request. A few years passed and a girl, Kelly something or other, he went to school with went to law school. One of the classes she was in started talking about Power of Attorneys. She brought up Foster’s case and the professor took an interest. He decided to use Foster’s case as an example, and when he spoke to the class they all agreed they wanted to investigate what was going on. They did some digging and discovered that the judge who had awarded Foster’s parents the POA for everything medical was a good friend of theirs.” “And this was the same judge that denied his request for another hearing on the situation?” Zotol asked. Again, Xolin nodded, “Yes. So anyway, the professor took what his class had put together alongside some of his colleagues that owned a very renowned law office. They offered to take Foster’s case on pro bono, but when they contacted him, it seemed the cancer was back and his parents weren’t about to allow some lawyers to talk to him. So Kelly offered to go and see the boy. It seemed the sensible thing to do and Foster’s parents knew they were friends. While she did that, the law firm sent someone to the courthouse and started working on getting the judge removed from Foster’s case. When Kelly came back with signed papers, the firm went fast forward and took care of everything. It took a bit of time, but they got the POA removed, and not only that, but it seemed that his parents hadn’t told him that when his grandfather had passed away he had left Foster and his parents a buttload of money. The judge not only ordered his portion to be transferred to him, but the judge also ordered compensation to Foster for their deception or whatever. So he’s pretty much set for life... however long that might be.” “So he’s got his life back as he wanted and a nice little nest egg to help him move forward. What’s his plan when the chemotherapy is over? I mean I take it if the cancer’s back, that means his parents had him going through the treatments?” Zotol asked. “Yeah, they did, but the second Foster became his own medical guardian, he immediately put a stop to all treatment. He said he was tired. He was sick of needles and all the invasive procedures he had to go through. He said he’d been fighting for over eighteen years and he was just done. He is sick of being sick and ready for whatever comes next.” Xolin said remorsefully, and started crying again. Zotol held his mate, whispering softly words that made no sense. Xolin said through his tears. “The strength that man must have to fight for so long and the courage to know that his life is about to end at such a young age... oh, Zotol, he is a remarkable man.” Xolin cried harder, trying to still talk, “A... and do... do you kn... know what he... what he says he’s.... he’s going to do until his time comes?” Zotol shook his head, tears in his own eyes from the pain he could feel coming from his lover. “No, baby, I don’t.” “He... he’s going to go deep... deep sea fishing. He can’t... he can’t swim with the shar... sharks like he always dre... dreamed be... because all the chem... chemo treatments have left his lungs weak. So he wants to at... at least see some.” Xolin stammered, and then cried some more. Holding Xolin tight, Zotol thought about what his mate was saying. This Foster’s life story had broken his mate’s heart and Zotol could understand why, but it didn’t make things any better for Zotol. His mate should never feel such hurt. And as Xolin’s mate it was his responsibility to make things right, and he knew just what to do.