by Kim Petersen
‘Did anyone ever tell you you’re in the wrong business?’ Eddie murmured behind him, stuffing a blood-soaked handkerchief into his jacket pocket.
He threw Eddie a stiff look before swinging his gaze back to the house.
‘Yes. That’s why I have you. Meet you on the other side.’
Regan crept like a thief in the night over the manicured lawn and edged around the back of the house. He stopped at the rear corner, molding his muscular build against the high rendered white wall before snatching a glance into the backyard. A well-oiled timber porch spread almost the length of the house. It was decked out with over-sized outdoor settings, woven pod hanging chairs and a sprawling barbecue bar. The area would have been inviting on any given day, yet now the lights that flooded the deck gave it a certain eeriness. The glass folding doors that led seamlessly into the interior of the home were wide open, displaced and jarred erratically, and as Regan shifted through the shadows and neared the edge of the porch, a sweet symphony poured into his ears.
He stopped abruptly and frowned, his body stiffening. Something isn’t right. He reached for the gun in his pocket, instantly feeling the assurance the cold steel brought in his hand. He peered into the half-lit yard until he was reasonably sure he was alone with the breath that misted the night air. He glided onward like a wind-blown flame onto the deck and moved cautiously toward the open doors.
He hesitated as he swallowed in unison with the musical composition that serenaded him like a whispering lover before he forced himself to peer into the house. When his eyes beheld the blood bath that greeted him, he felt as if his own blood would drain from his body and through his toes into the smooth-oiled decking. He squinted, blowing forcibly through his lips as he did so, and stepped into the room with an unnatural swing in his legs.
The pistol hung loosely in his hand as Regan covered his mouth with the other and scanned the scene. There were four bodies. Gaping holes oozed with blood and bore evidence to the bullets that had smashed into the once living persons. He held his breath as he stepped over blushing rivers that merged and soaked into the cream carpet. Two children had fallen with their arms entangled around one another. Their small, blood-splattered faces appeared at peace and unruffled by their final terrifying experience.
‘Argh!’ he groaned, tearing his eyes away.
‘Boss!’ Eddie called from the far side of the room.
Regan jerked in alarm. He was unaware that Eddie was there with him. He looked over at Eddie grimly. He was hovering over a woman’s body, peering down at her impassively.
Eddie gestured with his pointy chin. ‘It’s Zane’s wife, Julia Crais, and she’s alive.’
Regan climbed over a lounge settee, stepped on top of an elaborately carved coffee table and sprang across a pool of blood to land at Eddie’s side. The blonde woman’s wide mascara-streaked eyes listlessly traced over his features. Blood trickled from her mouth and pooled around her ears before streaming to the floor. His stomach constricted like the grip of an anaconda.
He focused on her eyes. ‘Julia, what happened here?’
She blinked slowly, wincing. Bright cherry lips parted slightly, and she clutched at her wounded stomach. ‘Z … Zane … He’s on the war path … his hunger for the Serenity Seed … has finally driven him to lunacy,’ she uttered.
She gasped, her face contorting as she tried to move her head. She spotted her children’s feet poking out from the other side of the lounge setting.
Her scream struck through Regan and wedged in his heart.
‘My babies!’
‘Look at me.’ His whisper broke through her hysteria.
She became silent, her body trembling as she gazed back at him with despair and agony in her eyes.
‘You are the Dark Star, no?’
His nod was slight, his throat dry.
‘I need to take care of my babies … please.’ Her tears mingled with blood and mascara, coloring her skin murky as they flowed over her face. ‘Please.’
Regan flinched. His veins bulged uncomfortably as he was overcome with an unfamiliar empathy. His heart ached to end her suffering and reunite her with her children. Somehow, this woman stranger evoked feelings that were foreign to him.
‘Look at me,’ he whispered again.
His eyes lured her in as they darkened to the jet black of a moonless night. Sparks of light soared and dazzled across his irises like a shower of shooting stars. He held her captive in his vision and was rewarded with a sigh as her bloodied hands fell to the floor and her body relaxed. The pain in her receded, draining from the creases around her eyes until calmness prevailed and peace became victorious. A smile momentarily lingered over her lips as her chest stopped rising and her eyes closed for the last time.
Regan stared at the woman he had willed to death. He shut his eyes, and for the briefest moment was sure he saw her clasp the hands of her children as they twirled together in a sunlit field of yellow blossoms and blushing daisies. He smiled, and his heart leaped in joy as he deliberately focused on their reunion for as long as he could. He felt their love bathe him with a soft reassurance.
‘Hey … Boss! Hello?’ Eddie’s voice cut through the vision like a dagger.
Regan’s eyes reluctantly fluttered open. He gazed around the room before looking at Eddie. His sudden re-acquaintance with his surroundings dampened the light that soared in his heart.
‘What?’ he muttered.
Eddie scowled and pivoted on the balls of his feet as he made for the door. ‘We’ve got to get out of here. Let’s go, Mother Teresa.’
He sprang after Eddie, pushing aside the tide of unusual emotions that spiraled through him like a raging tsunami. He frowned as he got in the car. What is going on with me lately? he thought, as he accelerated away. It was unusual for him to be vulnerable to the world around him, much less feel for the people he had to deal with in his line of business. He had erected an impenetrable wall around himself long ago; or so he had thought.
The low chime of his cell phone interrupted his internal ridicule. A stolen glance toward the glimmering screen revealed his caller as Shagga. He had been with the family for as long as Regan could remember. He remembered as a boy he would visit his uncle in the city during school break. Among Vincent’s many associates, it was Shagga who had most impressed upon his memories. His lanky tall figure and toothless grin had somehow made his fondness for performing the odd magic trick even more extraordinary in Regan’s young mind, and his loyalty to the family was as fierce as a wrangling pit-bull. Shagga was a lot older now, his thin body unable to sustain the demands of the business on the front line, yet his mind was as sharp as a razor and he was the best sleuth the family had ever known.
Regan clicked to answer the phone.
‘Shagga, what have you got for me?’
The line crackled as Shagga cleared his throat. ‘The woman. I have an address. I’ll text it through now,’ he said.
‘Excellent; thanks.’ He ended the call, focusing on the road ahead. Its sooty surface was broken only by the white dividing lines shining under the glare of the headlights. At last! I have her address, he thought.
‘Another job?’ Eddie said, watching him.
He shook his head. ‘I’ll drop you at the club. Get onto Zane Crais – he’s a loose cannon. We need to find him now.’ He gave Eddie a stern look. ‘He’s mine.’
Eddie nodded. ‘Who’s the woman?’
Regan ignored the question and pressed harder on the accelerator. The sooner he dealt with the woman and this fantastical Serenity Seed myth the better; he was certain his odd behavior of late was due to all this talk of the seed, because it all seemed to have started the night in the basement with Sam. However, locating it was a job he had to do alone; Uncle Vincent demanded absolute discretion on this one. As much as he believed the Serenity Seed was a fabrication was as much as Vincent believed in its existence. The man was obsessed in obtaining the seed and dominating the world with the serpent god by his side.
The vibrating phone caught his attention. It was a text message. A grin replaced the frown. Suddenly, things didn’t seem so bad after all.
His gray eyes widened as he gave Arella a pleading look.
‘Why can’t we just go to the hospital?’ Jacques hissed.
‘Because, if we go to the hospital, Lenny will kill me, that’s why!’ Arella snapped.
She took a breath and tried to calm her nerves. It had been a stressful evening out on the town, yet she had no desire to go home, even at this late hour.
Her expression softened, and she reached for his trembling hands.
‘It’s okay sweetie. You know my Aunty Bella; she’s not going to hurt you, promise.’
He relaxed slightly on the padded massage table, awkwardly leaning his head on the pillow. ‘Yeah, but what’s she going to do to me?’
‘She’s going to make you feel as good as new. Now relax and breathe along with the music.’
She began to stroke his hair, inhaling deep breaths of the lavender and cedar wood infused vapors that wafted through the room as she focused soothing intent upon him. His eyelids dipped in slow, heavy movements as he began to lose the struggle to stay awake. As he fell into sleep, she found herself wishing she too could find the solace slumber provided. Instead, her mind whirled over an assortment of subjects that plagued her. Why were they attacked for searching for Keira? Who had ordered the execution of such a thing? Obviously, their relentless querying after their friend had infiltrated higher up the gangland ranks, prompting this reaction. She assumed they shunned the attention their questioning might someday bring to them. This meant Keira’s situation and whatever scheme she was involved in was worth a lot to these people. She feared for her friend’s safety more than ever now. Perhaps I should follow up with Regan, she mused, and her tummy flipped at the thought of him. She scowled. No! It was obvious he was a womanizer, and besides, you have a boyfriend, Arella! she chastised herself. An unfaithful boyfriend! No, that won’t happen again. She sighed inwardly. Who was she kidding? Still, she could use all the help she could get to find Keira, and he did offer.
Her inner dilemma was interrupted when Bella quietly padded into the room. Arella gazed up at her. ‘He’s ready,’ she whispered.
Bella nodded and approached Jacques on the other side of the table. She curled a lock of golden hair behind her ear and glanced back at Arella. Her emerald eyes gleaming under the soft light of the room.
‘Do you want to try with me?’
Arella shook her head. Her mother and aunt had tried coaching her on the family-inherited healing gifts they possessed many times, but she had felt failure and disappointment every time. The beauty that emanated from them when their gifts unfurled and they unleashed their healing rays left her awestruck and overwhelmed. Yet, she didn’t have the ability to materialize a set of celestial opaque wings at will; her gifts always left her feeling confused and stunned. She could never remember the events that took place when she entered that mystical zone. Over time, she had learned to distance herself from her angelic ancestry and kept her interactions with her family light for the most part.
Bella’s emerald eyes narrowed. The soft light glowing from the salt lamp rebounded through her irises, giving her eyes a luminous appearance. A few strands of her honey blonde hair fell across her face as she gave a slight nod before closing her eyes to begin her healing ritual.
Arella’s hands dropped into her lap and she shrank back as she watched the presence of the light ray begin its radiant stream over Bella. The light glowed brilliant white as it descended, making it difficult for Arella to hold her gaze against its dazzling glimmer. She turned her head and shut her eyes while feeling the divine presence among them. She took a breath, and as she exhaled, the space around her head became filled with an overpowering sense of love and well-being. As she opened her eyes again, she stared back at Bella whose opaque silver crusted wings hovered behind her, encasing both her and Jacques in its light.
The wings began to ascend, while a luminous violet merged into the white light ray with the whirl of a graceful dance. The colors infused as Bella’s wings rose higher and higher before they swept over the crown of her head, grazing over Jacques until he was totally encompassed within their hallowed cocoon. A few silent moments passed before the dome of light intensified to its radiant peak before receding from the room like a diminishing blanket.
Bella murmured something inaudible, but Arella knew she was giving gratitude for the success of the light-healing ceremony. She bowed her head and mimicked her aunt. ‘Namaste,’ she whispered. She looked at Bella and mouthed a thank you.
Bella grinned and moved around the table to come beside her. Taking her hand, she gave her a tug.
‘Let him sleep for a while. Let’s have some tea.’
Arella wandered into the kitchen and all but collapsed into a chair across from Craig. Exhaustion rippled through her as she leaned her face into her hands as Bella placed a mug of freshly brewed tea in front of her.
“Drink up, sweetheart, it’ll ease the tension,” Bella murmured, running a hand over her crown.
Arella lifted her chin and gave a waning smile.
‘I can’t thank you enough, Aunt Bella; if Lenny found out Jacques was attacked he’d never let him come out looking for Keira with me again,’ Arella pursed her lips against the mug of tea before taking a sip. The hot sweet liquid skimmed over her tongue and coursed down her throat soothingly. She leaned back in the chair and looked at Bella and her Uncle Craig sitting across from her at the kitchen table.
Bella glanced at Craig then back to her, worry etched her face.
‘About that Arella; it’s getting too dangerous, you need to stop now. It could be worse next time, and I might not be able to get to you in time if ...’ Her voice trailed as she implied the unthinkable.
Craig rested his hand on Bella’s. ‘Rella, you’re 27 years old. You should be backpacking through Europe with your brother and your cousins, not nearly getting yourself killed because your friend turned to drugs and skipped town,’ he said. He frowned at her and shook his head. ‘You can still meet them in Germany; they keep asking for you to join them.’
Arella’s mouth fell open as she looked at her uncle. He should know me well enough by now! ‘Yes, I should be backpacking through Europe while Keira is forced to sell herself in order to fill the pockets of a bunch of ruthless crooks who will probably kill her when she’s passed her used-by date! Good call Uncle Craig. I’m digging your astounding compassion for my best friend!’ Her eyes brimmed with furious tears. She blinked and looked down, trying hard to contain the rage.
‘Arella, sometimes we can’t control everything that happens. You know as well as I, we only get to determine our own experiences. You have gone above and beyond to find Keira, and she is so lucky to have someone like you to care for her, but perhaps it is her will not to be found,’ Bella said, reaching for her hands.
Arella pulled her hands away, twisting them together in a white-knuckled knot. Her eyes danced over the tiled floor pattern as they had done a thousand times before. The weaving design concaved and flowed together in a seamless grid. She had always been fascinated with these Spanish tiles. They were hard and cold, yet textured and warm at the same time. She thought it was the simplicity of the bond that intrigued her the most.
Craig’s throat gurgled as he cleared it loudly. ‘It’s late. Why don’t I drive you home so you can get some rest; we’ll talk in the morning. Everything is better in the light of day,’ he smiled.
Everything is better when you’re a tile. She dragged her eyes from the floor and looked at him. ‘Okay,’ she murmured, rising to her feet to w
ake Jacques. She sighed as she thought of going home to Logan. That was another story she’d rather not face right now.
Zane Crais rubbed his hands across the skin of his shaved head as he paced around the room like a caged tiger. He struggled to contain the thoughts that scattered through his mind like falling dominoes. He paused, his long thick fingers digging into the flesh encasing his skull. ‘Argh!’ he groaned, dragging his short nails down from the crown of his head and over his temples. Blood beaded his skin, following the trail of his fingers like interweaving canals as it began to trickle down his face.
Images of the children’s horror-stricken faces flashed across his memory.
He sunk to his knees as the images of their gaping bloodied figures danced before his mind’s eye, haunting his soul. He gave an involuntary howl that echoed through the darkened gymnasium where he had sought refuge. He grappled crimson stained fingers around his bull-necked throat as if the action would stop the repetitive wretchedness strangled in his throat. A rocking motion began to overtake his muscles as his brawny body began to convulse.
His blubber lips dribbled with an incessant murmur, and for a split second his thoughts gathered enough for him to recognize his bordering insanity. He clawed at his eye sockets, willing the images to stop tormenting him.
He startled suddenly. What was that?
‘Julia?’ He froze, slowly uncurling his fingers from his face. He was sure his wife had called to him. His dark eyes wildly scanned the room. ‘Julia!’
Zane spotted a movement in the shadows of the corner. He gasped. It can’t be. He rose to his feet, and without another thought, charged toward the corner at full speed, crashing violently against the cold hard wall. His body recoiled with the impact, and he fell heavily to the floor.
‘Why? … Why? You fucking idiot!’ he cried, curling himself into a ball. He didn’t know why he had lost control earlier that evening, or what had triggered him to turn his weapon against his own wife and children, as well as of members of his gang. Something appeared to have gripped him lately, and he was fast losing his mind to its overpowering force. I need the Serenity Seed! he thought desperately. He was convinced the Serenity Seed would make it all better.