Bethany Anne Book 01 Short Story Part 1

May 4th, 2022From the laptop of Michael Anderle.Oh boy, very first newsletter... What to do?Oh... right... Start back with the original character, the one who has thousands of fans.Let's go back to BETHANY ANNE.

NOTE: I have not had this edited officially by the editing team. I decided to setup on Beehiiv as an experiment late one Wednesday night (this night, in fact, May 4th...And may the fourth with you, too!)

Anyway, I'm going to just drop in a short story none of the fans have access to, yet, and let's see where this leads us, huh?

A Little Stroll Down Memory Lane

Part 01 of 02

This short story takes place during DEATH BECOMES HER, Kurtherian Gambit Book 01 by Michael Anderle.

I hope you enjoy it!

Colorado Mountains, Military Base, Level Five, Vault

Bethany Anne tapped her nails on the table as she viewed the vault and the table she was presently sitting at. She could smell the oil from the machines installed way back during World War II that had permeated the inside while the door had been opened. “So, if you’re not exactly a vampire, what are you?”

Bethany Anne, I’ve been waiting all day for you to ask that. I am…enhanced, by means not of this world.

She eyed the empty air around herself. “You’re shitting me.”

I shit you not.

Bethany Anne’s lips curved in amusement. Men were often caught off guard by her linguistic flexibility. It was an advantage, as well as satisfying to see them falter when she behaved in what they saw as an unladylike manner.

Fuck lady like.

Bethany Anne decided she liked this invisible stranger. That didn’t mean she was going to take it easy on him. He didn’t need to know she was already halfway to a decision… She leaned back in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. In control was her place, not this so-called vampire’s. “So, what you’re saying is, if I agree to your offer, I get unimaginable pain, a craving for blood, and a one-way ticket to eternal service?”

Michael’s dark laughter filled her mind. Oh, yes. The family are going to love you, should you choose to join us.

“Tell me more about that,” Bethany Anne invited. “You say you are the head of this supernatural ‘family.’ I have yet to meet a family who doesn’t have a few skeletons in the closet.”

Dammit. She was razor sharp. Another reason she was right for what he had in mind. However, Michael wasn’t about to screw the pooch by airing the UnknownWorld’s dirty laundry to someone who was still technically an outsider.

My grandson was killed in the line of duty, he admitted.

“So…one out, one in?” Bethany Anne didn’t need to be psychic to know he was holding back. She wanted the whole truth. How far could she push him to get the reaction she wanted? “And everyone gets a shiny set of fangs?”

I can’t tell you more unless you agree to come onboard, Michael told her.

“Well, fuck. That’s hell of an interview process you’re running, Mr. Fangtastic.” Bethany Anne had almost made up her mind. Still, no reason she shouldn’t make him sweat a bit. There wasn’t exactly any way for her to judge what she was letting herself in for. How desperate was he? Were there other candidates?

There are no other qualifying candidates who are as suitable as you, Bethany Anne.

The way he said her name sent a shiver up her spine. Bethany Anne continued to tap her nails as she thought. He didn’t sound desperate. If anything, her experience told her he was supremely confident he’d made the right decision in selecting her.

The silence stretched between them. Oddly comfortably, considering the situation. She had one final question before accepting.

“Why me?”

It would be easier to show you…

She felt him dive deeper into her mind, and then everything went dark.

___

Everything around Bethany Anne was too big. No, she was the one who was out of proportion. Wait. Why did Lance look so young? What is this? Did you drug me?

No, I didn’t drug you, Michael told her. We are inside your memory.

Back the fuck up. Am I… Am I talking inside my head?

Yes. Think of it as a movie. 

Bethany Anne recognized the room and her heart sank. A movie of the most painful moment of my whole fucking life?

One of them, Michael agreed. There are others. There will be more in the future, should you choose to live. 

Bethany Anne’s temper flared. Why the shiny fuck are you doing this to me?

There was a pause before his reply. You asked a question. I’m giving you the answer. One that is taking a considerable amount of energy to provide. 

Bethany Anne tried to talk aloud, but she was unable to do more than observe from the back of her mind. At the same time, she felt her five-year-old self’s confusion overtake her current state of pissed off.

The man in the green uniform was practically a stranger, but one she knew and loved.

“Daddy, when is Mommy coming home?”

He took a knee in front of Bethany Anne and placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes rimmed with red and his face set in hard lines. She understood he was sad and she didn't like it.

“Bethany Anne,” he began. “She’s…” He looked to his left a moment before focusing back on her eyes. “Mommy’s gone, pumpkin.”

She didn’t understand. Mommy had kissed her goodnight after story time and tucked her in. When she’d woken up, Daddy was here instead of at work, and mommy wasn’t in the house.

“Where’s Mommy?” she asked—no, demanded.

“She’s...” Daddy’s breath hitched in his chest as he struggled to say the words he needed. “You see... The angels loved her so much they took her to be with them in Heaven.”

Bethany Anne pressed her lips together, a feeling she was too young to understand making her chest tight. However, even at five years old she was not about to be ruled by an emotion, and definitely not one she had no name for.

She looked her daddy in the eyes, her chin tilted defiantly as she clenched her little fists. “Then we have to just go to Heaven and fight the angels to get her back. She’s ours, and they can’t have her.”

A little tear was fighting its way down her cheek.

He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “Bethany Anne. Only you would decide fighting Heaven was an appropriate response to the situation.” He held her tight. “Pumpkin, I’m sorry. So sorry. Mommy can’t come back from where she’s gone, so you and I are going to have to do our best to get along without her.”

___

Lance smiled as the waitress placed the ice-cream sundae in front of Bethany Anne. He waited while she refilled Bethany Anne’s Coke and his coffee before addressing his daughter. “It’s not a trophy, but I hope you learned a valuable lesson today.”

Bethany Anne paused with the spoon in her hand. “I think,” she dug into the sundae, “that if you were mad at me I’d be doing laps right now instead of looking at a belly ache from triple choc fudge brownie overload.”

“I’m not mad,” Lance agreed. “But you get that kid is going to have a bum knee for the rest of his life, right?”

“Bum knee to go with his bum personality,” Bethany Anne muttered bitterly. “I hate bullies.”

“If you are going to give into hate, direct it at something worth hating.” Lance was quiet while she ate a few bites. “What is the lesson, Bethany Anne?”

She wasn’t sure and she wasn’t going to get out of this grilling. Unlike other dad’s, her father wasn’t able to be wound around her finger and she couldn’t smile her way out of a lesson.

Her dad was a little annoying, to be sure.

It wasn’t the first time Bethany Anne’s temperament had gotten her into hot water at a tournament. She had been doing well, placing higher with every round she won. Then the opportunity to give Dylan a taste of his own medicine had been presented to her in the semifinal, and she’d taken it.

She considered if her dad wanted her to acknowledge that hurting someone who was hurting others wasn’t the way to deal with them. She dismissed that.

Maybe it was when she chose to react? “Should I have waited until after the tournament ended to kick his ass?”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know how I feel about that language coming from my twelve-year-old daughter’s mouth.”

Bethany Anne shrugged. “It’s just a word. Was that the lesson? Picking my moment? I thought taking him out in the same way he did to everyone he viewed as competition was appropriate.”

“It’s a lesson,” Lance agreed as his tounge roved around his mouth giving him time to think, “but it isn’t the one I had in mind right now. Keep trying. Think about consequences.”

“Consequences are I got a ban from tournaments for the next six months,” she stated without much feeling. “I don’t care. Dylan won’t be using the excuse of being in a competition to hurt other kids anymore. I’d take a lifetime ban for preventing that if that’s what it took.”

Lance nodded, his expression telling her she was getting close.

“I did the right thing,” Bethany Anne continued, “because I was the only one willing to stand up to Dylan. The judges weren’t taking notice.”

“They noticed,” Lance told her. “However, Dylan’s father is powerful and wealthy. So they chose not to rock the boat.”

“Then they need their asses kicked, too.” Bethany Anne’s lip curled in disgust. “Life’s not fair. Is that the lesson?” She watched his face for any hints. Dammit, none came.

Lance shrugged. “Again, it’s a lesson. Not the one I’m looking for you to learn today. Try again.”

Bethany Anne was well used to her father’s teaching methods. She sighed as she pushed down her frustration at not having the answer and picked apart the aftermath of her actions, looking for the teachable moment. “I don’t know, Dad. I’m a little sore from the ban if I’m honest.”

Lance nodded, smiling. “You’re almost there, pumpkin.”

Bethany Anne shared her thinking out loud. “It wasn’t right that none of the adults were doing anything to stop Dylan,” she chewed on the inside of her mouth. “It’s their job to protect us. I shouldn’t have been put in a position where I felt like I had to act, and when I did, they treated me like I was the one in the wrong.”

She grinned. “But the other kids and their parents stood up for me. I didn’t get a lifetime ban like the board wanted.”

“There you are,” Lance agreed softly. “Making the choice to stand up for those who need it is rarely rewarded by those who have an interest in maintaining the status quo, but those who are affected positively by a change will fight to make sure it sticks.”

Bethany Anne gripped her spoon a little tighter and stabbed it into the ice-cream. “I guess that’s the lesson.”

“Is that knowledge going to change your reaction in the future?” Lance asked.

Bethany Anne thought about it, then shook her head. “No.”

___

“Hey! Leave him alone!”

Bethany Anne followed up her command by striding up to the group of four boys who were kicking the crap out of a skinny black boy and planting her boot in the ass of the largest bully.

Another military base, another round of the dominance game.

The bully, whom she had mentally named Jerkwad #1, pitched forward and scraped his palms on the asphalt as he stopped his fall. His friends picked him up and turned to size up their attacker, surprise showing in their eyes when they realized she was smaller than the kid they’d been tormenting.

Jerkwad #1 pounded a fist into his hand, hiding the wince of pain from grinding the shards of dirt embedded there deeper. “You just done fucked up bad, little girlie.”

“Not as badly as you just fucked up the English language,” Bethany Anne retorted, dropping a hand to her hip as she waved the other at him. “Do you fight as poorly as you talk? Because that would make what’s coming next a whole lot faster for me.”

She turned and helped the kid they’d been beating on to his feet. “You okay?”

He nodded. “I’ll be fine. You shouldn’t have pissed them off. They’ll make life hell for you.”

The boys snickered. Bullies liked to know their effort to instill fear was successful. He was doing their job for them at the moment.

She eyed them. “Pretty sure it’s the other way around. You should get out of here so you don’t get blamed.” Bethany Anne eyed the group of army brats as they regrouped to include her in the beating. They knew she was new to the base. They hadn’t figured she was the daughter of the General yet.

“Blamed for what?” the kid asked, confused.

Bethany Anne grinned as adrenaline flooded her body. They had no fucking idea what they were getting into.

“You little bitch!” Jerkwad snarled.

“Is that the best you can do?” Bethany Anne goaded. Mad was good, especially when it was one against four. “You’re right. I am a bitch. And you and your buddies are a cluster of infected hemorrhoids on the asses of your parent’s good fucking names. I’ve met too many wastes of good oxygen like you.”

“Seriously?” the kid she’d saved murmured from the side. “They’re going to waste you for talking to them like that.”

“What’s your name?” Bethany Anne asked him without taking her eyes off the other guys.

“Sam James,” the kid replied.

“My name is Bethany Anne,” she replied loud enough for the bullies to hear. “Bethany Anne Reynolds.”

Her reputation had preceded her, she was pleased to see. One of the bullies eye’s opened and he backed off, but the other three advanced. They were caught up in false presumptions about their chances of overpowering her and weren’t thinking beyond the fight.

Bethany Anne didn’t care. She darted into the group and during the melee broke two noses, a collarbone, and three ribs before the MPs showed up and hauled them all to the infirmary.

The General showed up an hour later as Bethany Anne kicked her heels in a private waiting room.

She looked up as he entered the room, her heart sinking when she saw it was her father and not the MP who had been standing outside the room since she got there.

“You take any injuries?” Lance asked.

Bethany Anne shook her head. “No, sir.”

“Are you aware you seriously injured those boys?” he asked.

Bethany Anne nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

She was still seething and lashing out at her dad when he was likely taking shit from his higher-ups for her conduct wasn’t the way she wanted things to go.

Lance pulled up a chair at the table. “Bethany Anne. Talk to me. We just got here yesterday. Why’d you kick seven shades of shit out of those kids?”

“Sir. They’re bullies. The assholes deserved everything they got.” She forced the reply through her clenched teeth. “Would have taken it further if the MPs hadn’t broken it up.”

Lance sighed. “Pumpkin. You are sixteen years old. That’s old enough to understand that there are consequences to your actions.”

Bethany Anne’s eyes flashed with resurfacing anger. Her nails cut into her palms as she fought for self-control. “I do. I’ll take them without complaint. Don’t think otherwise. But those bullies needed a visit from someone who could dish it out and I made damn sure they got one. They won’t bother other kids again. Not unless they want to come back here for an extended stay.”

“I think,” the General drew out his thought, “it’s time to admit that army life hasn’t been the best influence on you.”

Bethany Anne eyed her dad. “What are you saying?” she demanded.

“The same thing I said the last three times I had to get you out of a similar situation,” Lance told her. “This is my fault. I raised you the best I could, but maybe I should have done more to teach you how to control your temper. Except this time, I mean it.”

Bethany Anne dropped her head onto her folded arms and groaned. “You’re sending me away to school.”

Her father nodded. “It’s time. You’ll go to prep school, then college, and a whole new world will open for you. One that doesn’t involve you enlisting.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Bethany Anne asked.

The General shook his head. “It’s the only way I could get Taylor’s parents to agree not to bring charges against you.”

Bethany Anne groaned. Lance put a hand on her shoulder. “You have a sharp mind and the kind of stubborn determination that most people wish they had. You are meant for bigger things than following in my footsteps. I’d be a bad parent if I didn’t encourage you to use your advantages to work on changing the system from the inside.”

Maybe that wasn’t the worst idea, Bethany Anne conceded as they drove across the base to their house.

Asshats like Taylor inevitably found their way into positions of power when they grew up. Doing things the General’s way would put her high enough in the chain of command to do something about limiting the damage they could do.

___

The makeshift locker room echoed with the uproar coming from the warehouse floor. Bethany Anne accepted the other women’s congratulations as she washed the blood off her face and hands. “Dammit. I have classes tomorrow. What am I supposed to tell my professors?”

Keri passed Bethany Anne a towel. “Dunno? You walked into a fist? It’s not like it would be the first time you got into a fight on campus. You good?”

Bethany Anne looked into the mirror over the sink. She had a black eye coming and a busted lip, but she had earned it by losing her temper and bitching about it wouldn’t undo the consequences of her actions. She wiped her face dry and tossed the towel into the hamper. “I’m good. I won, didn’t I?”

“You have to stop picking my guys to beat on,” Larry complained as he walked in without knocking.

“You’d have to stop sponsoring pricks, first.” Bethany Anne turned from the mirror and stared up at the six-foot-two guy. “I could always turn my attention to you if you keep choosing not to respect our privacy. This is the ladies room,’ Larry. Get the fuck out of here and wait until I’m done to bitch about me being a better fighter than anyone who will stoop to associate themselves with you.”

Larry left in a hurry as the other women threw their wet towels at his retreating back.

Keri waved a fat envelope. “No, please keep choosing the meatheads. Larry might be losing out, but we are doing just fine.”

Bethany Anne grinned. “Easy for you to say.”

“Is it?” Keri returned her grin. “All you have to do is fight and win. I must navigate the sleazeball contingent to take care of my part.”

She split the stack in two before they left. Bethany Anne pocketed her half and they headed on foot for their favorite bar just outside the campus.

“We’re being followed,” Keri murmured as the lights of Gina’s came into sight.

“No shit,” Bethany Anne replied in a low voice. “I picked her up six blocks back.”

Keri snickered. “Another corporation looking to snatch you up? Lucky you.”

Bethany Anne glanced into an angled window of an antique store as they passed and assessed their stalker. “Hmmm, maybe not. Cheap pantsuit, slightly less cheap shoes. Flats. Nope. I smell government.”

“What do you think she wants?” Keri pondered.

It wouldn’t be the first time in the last few months Bethany Anne had been approached by someone representing an organization wanting to make a claim on her life after graduation. “Probably to offer me a job.”

Keri chuckled. “This is why I’m glad I majored in business. No one bothers me while I’m walking down the street at night. They schedule dinners at fancy restaurants or invite me to five-star resorts on their company’s dime.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Bethany Anne peeled off a few bills from her half of the winnings and handed the rest to Keri. “Can you take this to the nuns at St. Barnabas’ for me?”

Keri accepted the envelope and nodded. “Text me when you’re done, and we’ll meet up for food.”

Bethany Anne snickered. “Drinks, maybe. If she wants to talk me into working for whoever sent her, she can pay for my fucking dinner.”

Her instinct proved right as the follower came into talking distance. “Ms. Reynolds, my name is Agent Sharpe.” The woman didn’t show Bethany Anne a badge. “Can we talk inside?”

Bethany Anne flashed a grin. “Sure. I was about to get dinner. Thanks for offering.”

Agent Sharpe paid with a plain black card, and they took a seat in a quiet booth with food and drinks. She scrutinized Bethany Anne’s face. “Rough night raising money for the orphanage, I’m guessing?”

Bethany Anne shrugged and drank down half her Coke. “You should see the other guy.”

“I did,” Agent Sharpe replied with a wry grin. “I got to the warehouse just as they were loading him into the ambulance.”

Bethany Anne snorted. “He didn’t like getting his ass handed to him by a girl. He chose to be a dick about it.”

“So you gave him an ego check?” Agent Sharpe pressed.

“Pain is the most effective teacher. He got a lesson he won’t forget in a hurry.” Bethany Anne raised an eyebrow. “Cut the bullshit, Agent Sharpe. What are you? Not Homeland. You’re not dressed right for them. FBI? NSA? CIA?” She saw a flicker in the woman’s eyes. “CIA. Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. What exactly do you want with me?”

“Cutting the bullshit,” Agent Sharpe replied in kind, “we want to recruit you. There’s a two-year course to qualify as an agent. Then you get your deepest desire. To serve.”

Bethany Anne picked up her glass and took a long sip to cover her reaction. It wasn’t a shock to learn they knew about her. But had they gone the easy route? “Did my father have anything to do with your offer?”

The recruiter shook her head. “No. Your family name has weight, as I’m sure you’re aware, but our offer is based on your record. All aspects of your record. Honesty, you’re likely to get similar offers from other agencies and I would use my anemic government paycheck to bet on that. Homeland would jump through hoops for a capable agent who looks like you. They might even overlook your tendency to punch first and ask questions never.”

Bethany Anne smiled. “Fuck, no. I want to be where I can do the most good, and where my personality isn’t going to reduce my opportunities to advance.” She pursed her lips. In for an ounce, in for the whole oversized hamburger with double the fries. “Oversight is not my friend.”

Agent Sharpe’s smile faded. “No one is going to offer you free rein without oversight, Ms. Reynolds. We may have fewer constraints, but we all answer to someone.”

Bethany Anne tapped her nails on the table, meeting Sharpe’s cool stare. Little did this woman know that the opportunity she was offering was one Bethany Anne had been grooming herself for from the moment the General enrolled her in that stupidly expensive school. Her classmates were all going on to be doctors, politicians, lawyers, CEOs.

She could have taken numerous career paths that ended in fame, money, or perhaps both. She didn’t care about fame. Nor money, beyond its obvious uses. The political game nauseated her.

“I answer to one thing,” Bethany Anne told the agent. “Justice.”

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