by Wilson, Eric
She must remember to relax. To enjoy and prolong the inevitable. Sure, she would search for the missing mother and daughter; in fact, she had a lead on a coming seminar in Atlanta, conducted by a woman with Romanian heritage. But other Collectors seemed willing to pursue their own pleasures, momentarily setting aside the greater goals of their clusters, and she figured she could do the same.
Yes. Erota decided that when she got to Atlanta, she would pursue fresh adventures. Thanks to this shapely human vessel of hers, she was no longer Separated from physical capabilities, and she would put these senses through their paces.
Not for the typical Collector reasons, but for her own pleasure.
Touch, smell, taste, sight, and sound . . .
Along the way, she would censor her phone calls and reports to Lord Ariston. Who said he deserved all the details? Erota had no intentions of carrying herself like a lady.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
Mid-April—Chattanooga
Gina was on edge. Today was the day to spill the news, and if her mother disapproved, so be it.
She angled her ’89 Camry through the city center, heading for Nikki’s place in St. Elmo’s District off Ochs Highway. A car with an out-of-state license plate cut in front of her, then screeched to a halt to parallel park. The bumper sticker said, If you don’t like the way I drive, stay off the sidewalk.
Gina’s tongue moved along her teeth. Stress reduction. Upper right canine. Time to think up a blessing for someone.
How about a mocha for her mom?
Fifteen minutes later, she was following the curved drive toward a stable-style, two-car garage on the left of her mother’s house. White columns guarded the antebellum home’s double doors, and magnolias shaded rows of yellow rosebushes in front. What a contrast to their life back in Cuvin.
Though Gina’s memories of Romania lay in bits and pieces, she could still envision the small, red-roofed house of her girlhood, could still hear the creak of the crank as she drew water from the well.
People who thought of that as the simple life had no clue. Maybe they were confusing simple with clarity of purpose. Microwaves and remote controls—those were simple. Cell phones were simple. Village life was plain hard work, sunup to sundown, relying on the sweat of the brow to meet basic necessities.
Some days Gina missed that.
“At last,” Nikki said, meeting her at the car door. “I was getting worried.”
“Nice to know you care.”
“Regina, I didn’t raise you to be late to appointments.”
“An appointment. Is that all this is?”
“You said you wanted to speak with me. I’ve been waiting all morning.”
In her black boots, Gina climbed out and handed over the mocha without a word. She was determined to rise above her mother’s belittlement. She had marked her nineteenth birthday last year, and that meant no excuses, no blaming her mom or the dad she had never known or the siblings she had always wanted. Chin up. Straight ahead.
Nikki accepted the drink. “Thank you.”
“You bet.”
“I see you’ve dressed for the occasion.”
“Check out the hair,” Gina said. “You like it?”
“A streak of purple. I suppose it does match the shirt.”
Gina decided to take that as a compliment. She’d picked out this out-fit carefully. She was wearing a dark purple cotton tank top, short enough to leave her lower back and angel wings showing. A silver-studded belt held up black zippered cargo pants, which concealed the dagger strapped to her lower right leg. Her boots, black choker, and ruby orb earrings completed the ensemble.
Keep wearing them. One day I’ll find you.
She trailed her mother around the side of the house, where a pitcher of ice water and lemon waited on a doily atop an old apple crate. They took seats in wooden rocking chairs, and Nikki poured two glasses.
Gina tugged on the bottom of her shirt, trying to cover her belly.
“Are you feeling all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said.
“Is your stomach upset? Would you like me to get you something for it?”
The truth was the pregnancy had been rough so far. Gina expected the morning sickness, but this life inside seemed to be a tormented, rest-less soul.
“Water’s fine.” Gina drained a mouthful. “Thanks.”
“What’s the purpose of this meeting, darling? I do have a session to prepare for, this coming weekend.”
“Straight to the point, huh? Good. I don’t want to waste any more time on this than you, so I’m just going to say it. Okay?”
Nikki rocked back, eyes leveled over the mocha as she sipped.
“The thing is, well, Jed and I have been together for almost two years now. He gets me. He doesn’t try to fit me into a box. He just lets me be who I am. I know you’re not a big Jed fan, but he’s a good guy—”
“Barely out of his teens. Is he even legal to buy alcohol?”
“He’s legal and responsible. What’s your point? You want me shacked up with some dude in his thirties?”
“I think that, yes, you’re mature enough to aim a little higher.”
“When I’m around you, I don’t feel mature at all.” Gina tapped her boot against the chair. “It’s like I’m this little girl, falling back into the old ruts of communication. I don’t want to live in the past—that’s the point. I have a future. A whole life ahead.”
“More than you know.”
“I can’t live your life, Nikki, or the life you wish you’d had. I’ve got to follow my own path. You know, learn from my own mistakes and all that.”
Her mother took another contemplative sip.
“True, Jed and I don’t have a lot of money, but we’re getting it done. I’m enrolled in the insurance at my work, and so far we’ve both been free of any medical issues. There’s a lot that’s on our side, even if you don’t like the fact we’re living together.”
“There are consequences, Gina, when you surrender yourself to another person.” Her mother’s lips turned down, and she rubbed at her eyes. “You give a portion of yourself away. And take from them, as well. Sometimes you haven’t the faintest idea of the repercussions.”
“I understand all your reasons, but—”
“Understanding,” Nikki cut in, “is a place from which a person acts.”
“Profound. But do I look like a customer from one of your sessions?”
“Life students. Not customers.”
“Nikki? Are you in there? I’m trying to talk with you, just mom and daughter.”
“You have my complete attention.”
“You’ve always disapproved of me,” Gina said, “and I can’t carry that weight anymore. It’s too toxic. I don’t mean to be disrespectful—okay, maybe a little—but how else am I supposed to shake loose from you? Seriously.”
“You don’t need my approval. You’ve made that clear.”
“But I do. That’s what’s so sick about this.”
“Darling, if you’re referring to the cuttings—”
“What? Those? Nahhh, that was just healthy learning there.”
“Perhaps I misjudged the effects they would have on our relationship. You were so acquiescent as a child that I assumed you were in line with my intentions.”
“I was a little girl. What was I supposed to do?” Gina looked out from the porch, to a line of green-leaf trees sprouting along the steep ascent of Lookout Mountain. “You were my entire world.”
“That, I will never be. That’s what pains me the most.”
“It’s not like I don’t love you. That’s not what I’m saying.”
“I’ll be gone one day, an inescapable fact.” Her mother seemed caught up in her own melodrama. “And you’ll keep on, slowly forgetting that I ever existed. If you only had a child of your own, you might begin to understand how—”
“I’m pregnant.”
Nikki froze.
“That’
s what I came to tell you. Jed and I are having a baby.”
Brightness flickered in Nikki’s eyes as they fixed upon her daughter, then dimmed until nothing but fearful determination remained. “You’re certain of this, Regina?”
“Yes. For heaven’s sake, yes.”
Nikki indulged herself in another drink, then put the cup down, dabbed at her lips, and tilted her head back until her hair was a veil of black trailing along the back of the rocking chair. She aimed her next words at the roof over the veranda. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”
“Who does?” Gina said. “Guess I’ll make it up as I go.”
“If only it were that easy.”
“C’mon. It’s what you did, isn’t it?”
Nikki gave her a censuring stare. “Yes, and I ruined so much.”
This admission was too broad, too nonspecific, for Gina to be moved. Confession was rooted in self-disclosure. In gritty exposure. What had her mother’s statement revealed beyond a vague identification with the world’s grief at large?
“At least my baby will have a father around,” Gina said. “Jed’s pro-posed. He says he wants us to do this together.”
“Have you given him an answer?”
“We’re thinking maybe sometime after Labor Day.”
“Is that meant as a joke?”
“No. Would you listen, please? I don’t want all the hype, just some-thing simple. We both agree we’re not starting this marriage in debt.”
Nikki tilted her head. “I do have the wherewithal to lend a hand.”
“Right. And you’d do that? Even for Jed?”
“I’m not certain. Then again, you haven’t asked yet, have you?”
Gina tried to restrain herself. “Thank you, but we’re going to do this on our own, free and clear, with nothing dangling over our heads. And we’re going to have this baby. We’re thinking we might even change locations. Find someplace else to raise a family.”
“Somewhere close?”
“Maybe Seattle.”
“No.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
“Not there.” Her mother shook her head. “That would be a poor choice.”
“Again, Nikki—I’m not fishing for advice here. I’m trying to com-municate, keep the lines open and all that slop. Forget it. I should’ve just left it alone.”
“You mustn’t have this child.”
“What? How can you even say that to me?”
“There’s too much at stake.”
“Because you wouldn’t be able to control it?” Gina chafed at the thought. “Is that what worries you? You’re afraid it might be even more corrupt than I was?”
“Dear, it’s for the best. Please believe me.”
“You are delusional. I mean, off your stinkin’ rocker.”
“Gina! You think you’re in any position to raise a child when you can’t even control your own temper?”
Gina repeated herself, slower this time, with stronger and harsher words hammered onto the front end. She met her mother’s eyes and funneled all her resentment and hurt and anger into one pupil-drilling stare. She felt tension crackle along that connection, felt it run down through her neck and stiffen the muscles along her lower back.
She whispered, “Die, for all I care.”
With a sharp intake of air, Nikki Lazarescu lifted her coffee cup, peeled off the white plastic lid, and threw the remaining contents across the legs of her daughter’s pants.
Cursing, Gina jumped from the rocking chair. The back of the chair slapped against the white siding on the house, careened forward, then slapped the house again. Though the mocha had cooled in the half hour since its purchase, she could feel the residual heat spreading down her thighs, over her knees, gluing the cargo material to her skin. Childhood feelings of dazed resentment roiled through her chest.
Nikki set the empty cup on the crate.
“C’mon,” Gina growled. “Why don’t you finish what you started?”
Her mother exhaled and pressed a hand to her cheek.
Gina stared at those porcelain features, framed by waves of raven hair. A jumble of recollections came together in her mind, a semicomplete picture of a toddler in younger Nikki’s arms. On the child’s leg, there were two fresh cuts. Matching the scars concealed by Gina’s boots.
“You think I’m just dirt?” she said. “That somehow I’m not worthy?”
“Shush, Gina. You don’t understand.”
“You’re the one who’s got it all twisted in the head.” Gina unfastened the sheath and dagger from her shin, found the ancient object wet with coffee. “Here you go,” she said, turning the hilt toward her mother. “Take your last ounce of blood from me, if you want it so bad. Just take it. It’s yours. Because after this, I’m done letting you carve your expectations into me. If you haven’t purged the evil from me by now, then I guess you’re out of luck.”
Nikki let her eyelids fall shut.
“Here you go.” Gina removed the knife and flicked the blade across her thumb.
“They’ll come for him,” her mother was muttering.
“For who?”
“Your child.”
“Sure. Whatever.” Gina was done putting any stock in the words from this woman’s mouth. She watched pearls of blood bead down her own wrist, made a fist that squeezed red droplets onto the veranda’s planking. “There, Nikki. You want it? You got it. Is that enough for you, or do you need more?”
No response.
“You can have your knife back too. Far as I’m concerned, that thing’s cursed.”
Her mother’s eyes still closed. Not a word.
Gina sneered. “You could at least look at me while I’m talking to you.” She let the dagger fall with a metallic clang, along with the sheath, then stepped forward and stretched forth her dripping hand. She pressed the thumb to Nikki’s mouth and rubbed it once across, in a glistening smear. “That’s all you get. One taste. You should’ve just bled it all from me while you had the chance.”
Nikki opened her eyes, at last. They had misted over. Through red painted lips, she said: “Darling, it was wrong of me to have ever had you in the first place.”
Ukrainian Airlines, Somewhere over Europe
They left Boryspil Airport in the morning, headed for Atlanta via New York.
This flight aboard an AeroSvit Boeing 767 was Erota’s first ever by mechanical means. Eons ago, she had tried flying by natural—or perhaps, unnatural—methods, inhabiting an Egyptian vulture and soaring upon its broad pinions. The sublime vision of aerial gliding had been marred, however, by the sheer stamina required to hold position in the air. Like most things, it was harder than it looked.
“What do you think, Erota?”
“It’s so quiet up here. So smooth.”
“You’ve really never flown before?”
“Nyet. I have lived a sheltered life,” she said, lying to her husband-to-be for the very first time. She gave a shy shrug, and his gaze flitted to her pouty lips. “Look down there.” She pointed. “The clouds are like lambs’ wool.”
Raymond leaned over for a view through the oval window, and she made no effort to avoid the brush of his arm against her breast. He mum-bled agreement, then turned his attention to a current issue of Fortune magazine. When he wasn’t drinking in her appearance, he seemed capable of tuning her out completely.
Despite his ordinary face, Raymond Pace was better looking than she had expected from the online photos. She wondered why he’d chosen a foreign woman over an American one. His earning power wasn’t the problem, and he exuded a confidence mixed with bits of surly conceit that made him seem dangerous. Perhaps he had a taste for the exotic, the unpredictable.
If so, she would more than satisfy.
“Raymond?” she said a few minutes later. “Can I ask a favor of you?”
He inserted his customs declaration card as a page marker and closed the magazine. “Shoot.”
“Uh . . . I do not understand.”
&n
bsp; “It means to proceed,” he explained. “To say what’s on your mind.”
“I will learn these things. My English, I’ve studied only a few years.”
“You’ll get along fine, Erota. Just remember, when I’m reading, I don’t like to be disturbed. You’ll figure that stuff out about me.”
She nodded. “Da. I mean, yes.” The docile bride.
“What’d you want?”
“I am wondering, can I call you Ray-Ban?”
“Like your brand of sunglasses?”
“It sounds like Raymond, don’t you think?”
“Sure,” he said. “If that’ll make it easier for you.”
“One more question.”
He rolled his neck. Swiveled his face toward her. “Yes?”
“We are going to marry in Atlanta, is this correct?”
He nodded. “You got your K-1 visa, meaning a clean bill of health and no criminal record. Now that I know you’re not a serial killer, I feel a lot better about tying the knot.”
She gave him another pouty look. Though a hefty bribe had brought a Ukranian doctor’s clearance, Ray-Ban didn’t need to know that.
“Only kidding, of course,” he said.
“Of course.”
“Two weeks from now, we’ll have a small ceremony with my close friends and family. My sister, she’s been dying to meet you. Then there’s a reception with some of my business partners invited as well. All you’ll have to do is smile and shake hands. Some of the boys might try stealing a kiss, but don’t let them intimidate you. They’re just infatuated with your pictures.”
She pursed her lips. “Ray-Ban, I think I can handle the attention.”
“I have no doubt. If anything, a few guys in my office need to grow a pair.”
“A pair?”
“I’ll explain later,” he said. “There’s still a lot to learn.”
“And I can teach you some things, nyet?”
“I’m willing to let you try.”
Later, feigning sleep, she lolled her head against his shoulder. He reached over and brushed her hair back from her face. His fingertips were cool against her neck, lighting only for a second, but long enough for her to detect his steady pulse.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO