Un2talented (Book 3 of the Un2 Series)

DeLeon opened and closed his slash-free hands. He stretched and then shook his mended leg, squatted a few times, and nodded his approval.

“Next!”

Dorian unstrapped his bracer and wiggled the fringe of fingers that ran along his forearm.

“I’m going to miss being exceptional,” Dorian pouted. “I was good at so many things for the past couple of days. Time to go back to being plain old Dory.”

Cadence brushed the hair from Dorian’s eyes, took him by the chin, and said, “Suck it up, buttercup. This ain’t an after-school special!”

He stared at her, shocked. She burst out laughing.

“You’ll always be my best friend, the marginally talented, future one-hit-wonder that I love. Tell you what, you can keep my extra hand if you want it.”

“I appreciate the offer, but keeping your hand would be the same as using autotune. I guess that’s true for all of my recent enhancements.”

“Can I have the pinkie?” DeLeon queried. “I appreciate your immaculate timing and I’m certainly not above using autotune.”

“Sure, I guess?” Cadence winced.

“Exactly how are we to transplant the fingers back onto the appropriate owners?” Leslie asked.

“A cigar trimmer works great for the taking, but we’ve never dealt with a replacement before,” Lanky offered.

“As barbaric as it sounds, we will simply need to amputate the appendages and create a point of attachment on each recipient,” Lenny stated. “The healing waters will do the rest. I can make the incisions if you like. Leslie, you will be first.”

Leslie pulled the podium close to the front of the tank and laid his forearm across it. Dorian did likewise. They both closed their eyes. Lenny took a dagger from its display plaque on the wall and swirled it in the healing waters.

“Leslie, are you ready?”

Before he could answer, Lenny sliced an X on the stub where the pinkie would attach.

“Yeow! Not even a one, two, three?” Leslie flinched.

“Now, Dorian,” Lenny instructed.

A quick slice freed the digit from Dorian’s arm.

“That wasn’t bad. I didn’t even feel that!” Dorian chirped.

He and Leslie submerged their arms in the tank. Leslie held the pinkie to the stub and waited for the mending to begin. As tiny clouds of blood swirled around their wounds two things occurred simultaneously. Leslie’s pinkie snapped into place and Dorian deflated into his former self, emitting a squeal as if he were a balloon.

“Excuse me!” He jested.

“Now, me.” Lenny cut across his stub.

He motioned for Dorian to hold out his arm and pruned his pinkie from the forearm. Leny plunged it and his hand into the tank. Before long, he and Leslie stood examining their fully restored fingers.

“All that’s left is restoring your arm to its original state. Shall we?”

Dorian raised his arm from the water and Lenny trimmed the remaining digits, leaving the extra hand for last. He held his knife against its wrist and scrutinized its size. He turned to ask DeLeon for a bigger blade, but he was already holding out an engraved cleaver.

“Wouldn’t that be best used for chopping?” Lenny asked.

“It’s what’s handy. You can use that or one of a half dozen swords unless you want me to walk across the mansion to the kitchen to retrieve a chef’s knife.”

“Ooh! Use the cleaver. I’ve never been cleaved,” Dorian urged.

“ I will honor your somewhat disturbing request,” Lenny complied.

The cleaver worked as well as any blade could, freeing the hand in one smooth slice. The hand, however, had a mind of its own. It twitched free from Lenny’s grasp, balled into a fist, and cannonballed into the tank. They waited for it to float to the surface while Dorian soaked his arm, but it did not.

“It’s a shame, losing that hand,” DeLeon sighed. “Would you consider donating one of. . .”

“He was cut off by Cadence’s ice-cold stare.

“It was worth a shot!” He grabbed a goblet from one of the display cases and dipped it into the tank.

“Reese needs this and a fleam full of pheacock blood to recharge the breastplate. Have them waiting for her in the lab. I trust you two can handle that.”

He handed the goblet to Shorty.

“Of course, we can. Ain’t that right, Lanky?”

“Absolutely!”

The henchmen exited the library and headed toward the aviary while Shorty searched for the meaning of fleam on his phone.

“How about the four of you? Are you hungry? I have a huge selection of ice cream. A whole freezer dedicated to it!”

“Thanks, but I think it’s a hard pass for Gary and me on the ice cream! If it’s okay with you, I’d like to curl up in a nice warm bed and catch some Z’s.”

“Dory and I are going to hit it, too. But, I’ll be back when my shift starts tomorrow. Right, Lenny?”

“Nine A.M. sharp!” Lenny agreed.

DeLeon and Lenny watched from the porch as the foursome entered their vehicles. Waves were exchanged as they headed down the driveway.

DeLeon held the screen door open for Lenny as they entered the kitchen. He pulled a couple of bowls from an overhead cabinet and grabbed a pair of spoons from the drawer below. ’Care for some chili? That Mike makes one hell of a chili.”

While the pair Oohed and Ahhed over the deliciousness of the first-place dish, DeLeon recounted the events of the past few days. Unsurprisingly, the conquistador came out as the hero time and time again.

Across the manor, the library was dark except for the glow cast from the enormous fish tank that comprised most of one wall. This had been the majestic koi’s home since he had been taken from his realm centuries ago. He had lived a lonely existence until a girl showed him compassion. A kindness that he was happy to repay. She had unknowingly provided him with a new sense of purpose. A hand stroked his forehead and he nuzzled up to it. The healing had begun.