Sonata

by Kenya Wright

  “It’s in my pocket.” The Devil still had not lowered his hands. “Celina has the other part. The sister unit.”

  “Give it to my men.” The angel studied Shalimar’s dead body. I didn’t look her way. Instead I kept my focus on him, hoping this would be my savior. Besides looking at me when he asked my name, he hadn’t turned again.

  He tilted his head to the side and studied something on Shalimar. With irritation, he asked, “You used a saw on a woman?”

  “I…well, Misha said that…I should get the codes back…at all costs.” The Devil glanced around the room, as if looking for help, but all of his men had either been shot dead or were currently being dragged out the back of the house.

  Shots sounded next.

  Yes. Kill them, Angel. Kill them all!

  The Angel looked at the Devil. “What’s your connection to Jean-Pierre?”

  “H-he did this to my face.”

  The Angel quirked his eyebrows. “But he didn’t kill you?”

  “No.”

  The Angel’s face held an edge. “I would’ve killed you.”

  Silence bridged between them.

  The Angel shrugged. “But then, that’s why they call me the Lion, and Jean-Pierre the butcher.”

  Okay. Okay. This is the Lion. And… wait… is this a good thing or not? I don’t care. I would rather be with a lion than the devil any day.

  The Angel turned to me. “I’m Kazimir. You’re coming with me right now.

  Shaking, I picked up Uni and rose. “Okay.”

  Kazimir glanced at Uni and then scowled at the Devil. “What is she doing? Did you give her something?”

  “One of the men did. Not me.” The Devil looked more scared than I’d ever been. “I killed the guy, when I found out he did it. I’ve done my best to keep her safe and fed—”

  “She smells like shit. Her face is scarred.” Kazimir spat out the words. “And she looks deranged, like she hasn’t slept or eaten in years. Now I don’t know much about Jean-Pierre’s taste in women, but I bet he wouldn’t lay with one that smelled this bad. He’s big on perfume.”

  The Devil stood there with nothing to say.

  Kazimir turned to a man on his right. “Tie up this Devil. I was going to kill him, but he may be a good bargaining chip with Jean-Pierre. Who knows what the Butcher would do to get his hands on him.”

  The Devil shook his head. “Kazimir, p-please. I was following orders. Please, don’t give me to Jean-Pierre. I would rather you kill me now.”

  No. Let me kill him.

  Kazimir smiled. “Misha wouldn’t tell you to kidnap any women. He said get the codes. That was it. You’ll also have to come with us and explain to Jean-Pierre, that you did that to her face.” Kazimir scrunched his face in disgust, as he studied me. “Someone fix those cuts up. Why would someone cut that face?”

  Others turned my way. One man had already grabbed bandages and was heading over. A second later, another man began cleaning it. I jumped a little as another reached for me, and then relaxed. I still couldn’t believe that I was free.

  Was I free? Kind of.

  I blinked, trying to get ahold of myself. Dead bodies lay, everywhere. I’d heard Aunt Celina’s voice. Shalimar had died with one arm. My face had been cut up. I had been seeing my old childhood unicorn. The Lion was here. Or was he an angel? He had wings and he was taking me. But I had no idea where he was taking me. All I knew was that I didn’t want to die.

  Is this really happening?

  “She’ll need stiches too. The bandages won’t be enough.” Another man stepped out of the shadows.

  I jumped again.

  Earlier, I hadn’t seen him enter.

  Where the hell did he come from?

  He was a black man with hazel eyes. Anger covered his face. When he spoke, I’d figured it would be a Russian accent. Instead, he sounded like he was from New York, or at least the East Coast. “Kazimir, I don’t care who we kill, just as long as we get Emily back.”

  Kazimir’s face showed exhaustion and worry, for the first time since entering. “We’re close, Maxwell. One part is done. Now for the hard part.”

  Kazimir walked to the window and stared out.

  Maxwell followed. “I thought finding the flute player was the hard part.”

  Who’s the flute player?

  “No.” Kazimir glanced over his shoulder at me. “The hardest part will be exchanging this one for Emily.”

  Me? Who’s Emily? What’s going on?

  They’d bandaged my face and gave me a bottle of water. I sniffed the water before drinking it, not sure if it was more drugs or not. My throat and tongue had been so dry. I finished the bottle in seconds, and then coughed as my stomach twisted from the overload. I felt sicker than I’d ever been in my life. But I had hope that all of this would end.

  I’m one step closer to Jean-Pierre and that’s all I need.

  They led me to the limo where Kazimir, and the black man named Maxwell, sat in the back. One man led me to the seats across from them before leaving the limo.

  Both Kazimir and Maxwell stared at me as I got in.

  I looked a mess and reeked. I still had on that torn and dirtied gown. Bandages were plastered on one side of my face. My hair was all over the place, not that I’d cared about beauty in these last hours. My hands were sore, maybe even swollen. I stared down at them. One of my index fingers looked like it was bent the other way.

  I flexed them and flinched at the pain.

  Oh God.

  I’d sprained, or possibly broke one or more of my fingers, from the slamming and banging at the couch.

  Maxwell looked at me from head to toe. “We should clean her up too. Give her a dress and some shoes or something—”

  “This isn’t a fucking makeover show.” Kazimir typed into his phone and brought it to his face.

  “You know what they say.” Maxwell shrugged. “Honey catches more bees, than lemonade.”

  Kazimir frowned. “It’s vinegar.”

  Maxwell shook his head. “You can’t catch bees with vinegar.”

  “Not bees, but. . .” Scowling at him, Kazimir brought the phone to his ear. “I may kill you before we get to Emily.”

  “She’ll be too sad, if you do.” Maxwell smiled at me. “Don’t worry, Eden. We’ll get you a nice dress and some shoes. And a shower. Not that you smell bad. Well. . .fuck it. You do smell bad, but I understand why. You had to survive.”

  “Stop talking to her.” Kazimir hung up the phone. “Jean-Pierre isn’t answering.”

  “You know why?” Maxwell shook his head. “He’s not answering because you probably killed him and Emily, with all that damn mayhem you’ve caused around Paris—”

  “It’s my tactic.”

  “Horror and chaos?”

  “I’ve found it works.”

  I cleared my throat.

  They both turned back to me.

  “You’re. . .” I cleared my throat again. “You’re giving me to Jean-Pierre?”

  Kazimir nodded. “Yes. As soon as he decides to answer his phone.”

  Maxwell kept his gaze on me. “Knowing my sis? Emily probably took the phone.”

  That was the only time Kazimir smiled for a second before the frown returned.

  I asked another question, “You’re the Lion?”

  Kazimir smiled one more time. “So, Jean-Pierre talks about me to you? I’m not surprised. Jean-Pierre has a problem with obsessions.”

  Blinking, I looked at Maxwell, hoping someone could make more sense of everything.

  Maxwell must’ve understood how lost I’d been. “Jean-Pierre decided to kidnap Emily—my sister and Kazimir’s… lady. Apparently, Jean-Pierre did that because he thought we kidnapped you, which we kind of did, but not truly. So, we’re sorry, but then again we’re not.”

  Kazimir went back to typing into his phone. “Be quiet.”

  Maxwell rolled his eyes. “I have a question for you, Eden?”

  “Yes.”

 
Maxwell directed his gaze to my hands. “What are you holding and petting right now? It is an invisible puppy?”

  Dear God.

  I looked down at my lap as Uni slept. “It’s. . .a unicorn.”

  “O-kay. You’re petting a unicorn.” Maxwell nodded. “Unicorns are cool.”

  “I’m really drugged up,” I tried to explain. “And… it’s been a long fucking day. Petting Uni calms me.”

  Maxwell shrugged. “You go right ahead and pet him… or her. It’s just when you come down, let me know what you took. I want no parts of that shit.”

  “Me either,” I mumbled and stared out the window.

  Jean-Pierre had kidnapped another person due to me. He’d done it to a powerful enemy. While I was out of the Devil’s grip, I was now with the Lion.

  What would happen after this? Would I get back safely to him?

  I glanced back at the Lion and Maxwell.

  Once the women are all back together. . .then what will happen between Kazimir and Jean-Pierre?

  Chapter 21

  Impatiently Waiting

  Jean-Pierre

  What else could go wrong?

  The limo pulled up to our new location.

  “Has anybody found The Lion yet?” I asked.

  “No, but I’m sure they’ll pop up.” Louis headed back to the kitchen and his food.

  We’d gone to Gwen’s small apartment in Bondy—one of the lower income suburbs around Paris, that many didn’t want to live in. High-rise social housing filled the western part. In the south eastern part, many didn’t roam there at night. If one ever took a taxi to Paris via the A3, then Bondy would’ve been the ugliest part of the ride.

  But the area provided cheap housing for Parisians on a serious budget.

  We can do better than this for one of our employees.

  When we drove up, Rafael had taken the neighborhood in as I did. I could tell the same thoughts was on his mind.

  We’ll have to move her somewhere better. His chef can’t stay here.

  Rafael may have even said that, had Louis not pressed him with a more important question.

  “Are you going to carry Shalimar’s dead body up to Gwen’s apartment?”

  Rafael looked down at the body he’d been carrying out the limo. “Oh.”

  He just stood there for several silent seconds.

  Is he in shock?

  Louis took the body from him. I guided him away, not by grabbing his hand, but giving him a manly pat on the shoulder and never moving it. Three men escorted Emily ahead.

  Or should I refer to her as the Mouse? It would be easier. Then I would never second guess this little woman again.

  The Mouse kept the guards’ pace. No one would be playing with her anymore.

  When we’d parked the limo, Gwen had gone up in a hurry, mumbling about how we should excuse the mess. She’d probably been rushing to clean the apartment up, before we came inside. I’d told her it didn’t matter. No place could be as awful as Louis’s. Plus, we were her guests and she was doing us a major favor.

  It didn’t matter.

  She sped away.

  At least, she’s helping us.

  With all that went on, we’d given Gwen a brief PG-13 summary of what was really going on in the city. I wasn’t sure if she believed us. But she’d met Eden twice, and knew that Eden was in danger. With that, Gwen brought us back to her apartment.

  I’ll pay her back double for this help. She knows something is up with what we’re doing. Still, she’s helping and doesn’t look scared. I wonder why she’d doing it so easily.

  That was just one of the many questions of the day, that I had no time to ponder. But there were more important ones on my mind.

  Eden, you’re with the Lion now. Are you okay? Are things better? What happened to you?

  I rode the elevator up to Gwen’s place. She had no strong connection to us. There would be no reason for Kazimir to come there. She was just Rafael’s chef. He’d be searching in other places.

  This will be a good place to wait it out, until he gave us the location for the exchange.

  Rafael and Louis needed a break. Like me, neither had slept or eaten. While my love for Eden served as my fuel, they would need time to rest.

  I’ll give them twenty minutes.

  All of us loaded on—Rafael, Louis, the Mouse, her guards, and me.

  Rust coated the edges of the walls. The ceiling had a light that flickered when the doors closed. The contraption didn’t move for several seconds. A bell rang. I glanced up and then the elevator creaked as we rose.

  Rafael gazed around the dusty box. “This is no way to live life, and how long do you think it took her to get to Shalimar’s every day?”

  “She probably spends an hour commuting in and an hour going back out. This isn’t close to the transit.”

  Rafael sighed. “What type of car does she drive, Louis?”

  “Nothing you would like.”

  “This has to change.” Rafael ran his fingers through his hair.

  The Mouse watched him with intrigue.

  Stop assessing him. I no longer trust you.

  She’d killed my men in that limo with ease. I didn’t know how she did it, but they were out cold and dead on the floor. And then she’d had time to write me an apology.

  “I can put Gwen in my building,” Louis offered.

  “No.” Rafael shook his head. “I’ll take care of it. I’m moving the restaurant location anyway…changing the theme…I’ll move Gwen closer to wherever that is. Either way, she can’t live here. I’ll tell her, when we get inside.”

  This was good. Rafael needed something to focus on in these next weeks. Shalimar’s death had knocked him down. While he may have come to grips with the fact that I might rough her up for answers, he knew that I never would have killed her.

  But others would and others did. They’d torn her apart.

  Disgusting.

  It was one thing to mourn your lover killed from a car accident; than to mourn one shattered from torture.

  The way Shalimar ended. . .

  The guilt would punish him. It would grip at his soul, and tear through him for years to come.

  The Mouse watched Rafael some more.

  “Stop looking at him,” I whispered.

  Saying nothing, she directed her view in front of her.

  I turned to Rafael. “Yes. I think changing the location of the restaurant is a good idea. Get anything from me that you need, whether for the restaurant or Gwen.”

  Maybe Gwen can be a distraction. Maybe… she can help you heal.

  The elevator screeched to the fifth floor. It stopped. We stood there for several seconds. After too long, the doors creaked open.

  Happy to get off, I left immediately.

  “Jesus Christ,” Rafael grumbled. “Was that elevator even running by electricity or were there two men on the roof lifting it up on a crane.”

  Exhausted, we walked down the hallway and stopped at the door she’d told us was her.

  5E.

  I knocked and eyed Kazimir’s lover. The Mouse had given us no further problem. She looked just as beat up as we were. And she’d vomited earlier and never ate.

  I checked out my wrinkled shirt and jacket on her. “We’ve got to get her some food and clothes.”

  Louis spoke up, “Should I run out and get it? We’ve already asked enough from Gwen.”

  “Let’s check with Gwen. I don’t want you out there right now. No matter what, Gwen won’t have any regrets for her help. She’ll be more than taken care of. If she wants, she can start her own restaurant.”

  “No.” Rafael’s voice held an edge. “Not yet.”

  I sighed. “Well. . .Rafael will help her, but she’ll have no regrets.”

  At least we hope not.

  Another woman opened the door. “Hey, I’m Natalie. Gwen’s baby sister. Come on in.”

  Natalie didn’t have to tell us she was Gwen’s sister. It was all over her face. Same dark
brown skin. Same high cheekbones and big eyes that appeared to be holding a song, or maybe even a dream.

  But there were some differences. Gwen had a super curly afro, while Natalie had long black hair tied up in a ponytail. And Natalie was shorter, yet she seemed to have a bold spunk about her. The words Dance, Pray, Fuck was written on the front of the t-shirt she wore.

  “Hey, are you all coming in or not?” she asked.

  “Sorry.”

  She giggled. “It’s all good. Come get some breakfast. I was making eggs and bacon. Is anybody hungry?”

  Louis nodded with an intensity that I had never seen. Even the Mouse’s face brightened at the sound of bacon. And Rafael clutched his stomach and groaned.

  I bet we look like a group of zombies to her.

  She opened her mouth and inched back. “O-kay. I’m getting you all something quick. We can do S.O.S.”

  I began to walk in, but Louis stepped in front of me, almost knocking me out of the way.

  “What’s S.O.S?” He followed her down a small hallway.

  The rest of us piled in.

  Her voice came off in the distance. “It’s Shit on Shingles. You’ve never had it? It’s a rendition of biscuits and sausage gravy—”

  “Yeah. I want that,” Louis growled. “S.O.S. it is.”

  We piled into their small living room, crowding the tiny space. A few more of my men appeared, and I ended up taking the Mouse and her guards into the kitchen area with Louis, as he continued to talk Natalie’s ear off.

  Where is Rafael?

  He’d escaped once we’d gotten inside.

  I glanced over my shoulder and spotted Rafael talking to Gwen on her small balcony.

  Okay. I’ll give Louis and Rafael some time. Everything will work out. Kazimir will call soon.

  Louis had been sitting on a small barstool by the breakfast bar. Gwen stood by the stove, turning sizzling, long links of sausage. I gestured for the Mouse to sit next to me. Her guards stood behind her.

  Natalie eyed her. “I have some clothes she can fit.”

  Shocked, I nodded. “That would be good.”

  “Just grab something from the bedroom.” She pointed in the direction. “It’s over there.”

  Well. . .that was helpful.

  I’d expected more fear to come from Gwen and her sister. If anything, they were helping us with the kidnapping.