by F. F. John
Walking over on shaky legs, I couldn’t help but glance over at the spot where the yellow puddle had been. People trudged to and fro on the sidewalk outside, oblivious to what just occurred.
“Close that door for me and flip the sign to closed.”
I did as asked. I took a seat and folded my hands on the table. My hope was that she wouldn’t notice them trembling.
“Tell me, what sort of creature has a long tongue like a snake?” I asked her, my mind pivoting to the bartender at the club.
“That’s a serpenti. I don’t run into too many of those.” She reached across for both of my hands and examined them. “Did you see one?”
“More than one.”
She nodded her head. “They can devour a two-hundred and fifty-pound man in a sitting.” Her lips turned down in disgust. “Just nasty.”
“My friend, Ant, was dancing with one when I left the club!” My stomach dropped.
“Which one?”
“Antonio. The one who wanted you to— “
“No. Which club did you see it in?”
“Ahas.”
She clucked her tongue a few times, making a disapproving sound. “That’s their stomping ground, and it’s no place for a boy like you. Especially on your Becoming Night.” She slammed my hands onto the table holding them down as her face got serious. “Didn’t nobody tell you what to expect?”
I stared into those white eyes for several seconds as I counted to ten in my head. Through gritted teeth, I said, “I’m an orphan and had nobody to tell me anything about zwarts, Mami Watas, and serpenti. Now,” I paused to further compose myself—there was no need getting angry as she clearly knew more than I did— “what’s a Becoming Night?”
She clucked again. “A Becoming Night is when a LegionBorn comes into their powers. It’s called a Day of Dawn for demon spawn—don’t ask me why.” She straightened the tablecloth. “Now mind you, there’s no set time for a Becoming, but I’ve been around long enough to know they tend to happen somewhere between 18 and 30…”
My mind struggled to accept what I’d seen and all this talk about creatures only made things worse. And what in God’s name was a LegionBorn?
I yanked my hands free of hers and sprung to my feet. “I can’t take any more of this. It’s all too confusing.” Taking three steps to my right and three to my left, I paced, rubbing a hand across my buzz cut. The freshly clipped ends of my ebony hair scratched at my palm.
Several moments passed before Layla said, “Forgive me. I’ve been a part of this world for a long time and I forgot how terrifying it can be for newcomers.” Her voice filled with warmth and something else…pity. “Come on back and sit down.”
“No!” I shook my head more forcefully than I intended. Holding on to the back of my chair, I said, “I just want to go get my friends out of that place. I’m going to pretend like none of this ever happened.” Worst birthday ever!
“That’s not possible. A Becoming night ain’t the sort of thing you forget.” The pity in her tone deepened just as her drawl did. “You’ve got that shiny, new LegionBorn look to you. All them demons out there are gonna want a closer look.”
I came to a halt and stared down at my body. “What shiny look?”
“You’re looking with your human eyes, you can’t— “
“Okay, forget the shiny look. Tell me why demons would be after me.”
“They’re gonna want to know what you are, if you’re protected, whether you’re committed to Legion or care to switch sides…”
I stood there waiting for her to continue but after a few beats passed and I saw she had nothing more to say, I asked, “In plain English?”
“Oh,” she said as understanding settled onto her face. “Demons or their spawn will sniff around to learn if you’ve been claimed and if not, then, they’ll try to convert you. If they fail at that, they’ll kill you.”
This time, I was able to follow relatively well. “So, a demon or demon spawn will try to kill me if I have no protector and I refuse to join the demons in…” I paused searching for the right word until I gave up and asked, “What do they do?”
“Things you have no business getting into.” Was her curt reply.
--IV--
I LEANED OVER THE TABLE, fingers splayed over the soft cotton tablecloth. “Tell me, what is this Legion thing? And what is a LegionBorn?”
She squinted up at me as if trying to decide how to answer my question and then looked away, her head turning toward the window and its view of the street. “Sit down for this part.”
“I’m tired of sitting and I’m tired of waiting for answers!” I slammed my hands on the table and the red candles lurched, spilling wax onto the tablecloth. The skull wobbled, tipping to the side but Layla straightened it.
Something dark passed over her face but it was gone too quickly for me to decipher. “I said,” she hissed, “Sit.”
Her voice seemed to echo and somehow swell in my ears. I found myself flopping into the chair across from her.
What the hell?
“Now,” she said, lengthening her spine and picking at the spilled wax. “Legion is a collection of fallen— “
A shrill ringing filled the air, and her words vanished, leaving her mid-sentence. The sound bloomed again, and she clucked her tongue, “You gonna get that?”
I realized she’d been interrupted by my cell phone and pulled it out of my back pocket. Lucas’s name came up on the screen and I picked up his call.
“Dude! Where are you?”
I wondered if it was smart to tell him. My eyes met Layla’s and she must have thought the same because she shook her head.
My face bent into a frown. Why should I lie to my best friend? Nevertheless, the next words out of my mouth were, “I…I went home. I wasn’t feeling great.”
Why in God’s name did I just lie to a kid I’d known my whole life? And why did I do it on command of a woman I only just met? I squeezed my eyelids as if that would break me out of whatever hold she had over me. When they reopened, her foul expression blazed at me. I shifted my gaze past her to the street beyond. The traffic had slowed and there were fewer people walking.
“Well, Ant tossed up his dinner, so I’m putting him in a cab and sending him to Sofia.”
That elicited a chuckle from me. So much for Antonio’s declaration that Sofia would come crawling back to him.
“Sounds like a good plan,” I said.
“Okay, see you on Sunday, dude.”
Sunday?
Lucas had known me for so long that when he noticed my silence, he knew I’d forgotten something, so he explained, “It’s the NCAA finals and we’re watching the game at Flight.”
Layla’s mane swung from side to side. She was shaking her head for no. Now, it was my turn to frown at her. Who the hell did she think she was? She can’t stop me from having a night out with my buddies.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I said, with a glare that was promptly returned.
When I got off the phone, I asked her, “What’s your problem? Where do you get off thinking you can tell me what to do?”
She tapped her index finger on the table and smiled, revealing bright white teeth. “Only if you want to live to see your next birthday, boy. You need to lay low for until all the shine wears off a little. You can’t see yourself but anyone with an eye can see it.”
If this old lady doesn’t stop calling me ‘boy’! I let out a frustrated sigh and say, “Well, thanks for the suggestion but that’s not possible. I’ve got a trip to West Africa at the end of the week that I can’t postpone.”
“Where in West Africa?”
“Nigeria.”
“Oh, hell naw!” She wagged a bony finger. “From what I hear, that place is crawling with demon spawn. They practically run things over there. You’re better off not going.”
“No, can do,” I said. Everyone always had something negative to say about Nigeria but my interaction with Nigerians in college and law school proved the
y weren’t all bad, despite the reputation. I even dated a Nigerian girl once. She had long legs, big tits, and a fat—
“Get your mind out the gutter!” she growled, and I couldn’t take the suspense any more.
“Are you reading my mind?”
“I don’t have to work that hard to know what you’re thinking. Your aura switched color and I knew you were thinking about fornicating!”
I scratched my scalp, feeling overwhelmed. Of course, she can’t read my mind, that made no sense. My immediate concern was how I’d stay focused if I’d be seeing monsters everywhere I turned? I really needed to land this new client.
“Ms. Layla,” I said with as much charm as I could muster. “You seem to know a lot about all this…stuff. Can you please help me?”
“Stay home.”
“Is there some other way you can help?”
“No.” She shook her head for much longer than necessary. I knew I was getting to her.
“You said it yourself: if a demon spawn comes knocking, I’ll get killed.” I dialed up the earnestness in my voice. I didn’t have to pretend because the thought of death sent an icy chill down my spine. “Please, help me.”
She was still shaking her head. “The last time I got mixed up in all this nonsense, I,”—her eyes took on a faraway look— “I lost everything.” The glazed look was gone when she added, “I don’t know you and I’m not getting involved.”
Undeterred, I clasped my hands before me. “Please! I can’t keep seeing all these monsters. People will think I’m crazy. There has to be something you can do.”
She looked me up and down and by the way her mouth tightened, I was convinced her next words were going to be hell, no. Instead, she said, “Hold on a minute.” She stood and went off past the bead curtain. When she returned, she had a metal chain in her hand.
“Since I already know you’ll go to Nigeria despite my warning, take this.” She put it in my hand. “Be sure to wear it at all times. It’ll help keep you safe.”
The chain was heavy. It looked like a gold link necklace that a rapper would wear. “Ma’am, I can’t see clients wearing this.”
She let out a dismissive sigh. “You don’t have to wear it around your neck, just keep it on you. It’ll dull that shine and help keep you safe.” She clapped me on the shoulder. “See me when you get back. I’ll try to get information for you on who your parents are. You’re gonna need to know.”
“Whoa, you can do that?” For the first time since entering the store, I felt something other than despair at my spiraling situation. I’d tried to find my birth parents once and had been told my original birth certificate was permanently sealed. Not knowing anything about my parents was the most frustrating thing.
“I’ll surely try,” she said. In the blink of an eye, there was a sharp pain right above my left ear.
“Ouch!” I cried. “What did you do to me now?”
Layla was cradling something in her hand. “I just took some hair. I’ll cast a few spells that should give me a lead on your pedigree.” She pulled out a napkin from a pocket and wrapped my hair in it.
I should have fought to get my hair back from this woman. All that good, old Catholic training at school and at the orphanage should have kicked in to remind me that this woman will use my hair in an un-Christian manner. This woman was most likely a witch.
And yet, none of that ‘programming’ switched on. Given what I’d recently seen and learned, I highly doubted that Layla doing a few spells with my hair was my biggest problem. If she was correct, and I’d just become some sort of Legion-whatever she called it, then some chanting wouldn’t hurt me. The alternative—not knowing why I was suddenly seeing all these demon spawn—could get me dead.
That’s only if you believe what she’s told you. Do you?
A sidelong glance revealed she was looking at me. Hands on hips, one foot tapping a tune only she knew. Her mouth was a pout, and she raised a silver eyebrow as though to ask the same question I just posed to myself.
I came to a quiet realization.
I did.
--V--
EXACTLY ONE WEEK AFTER MY disaster of a birthday and a gazillion hours of flight later, I landed at Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport in Abuja, Nigeria. It was a tongue twister to say the airport’s name, and I refused to say it, much less sound it out in my head. The long trip would have been better if the client had sprung for a private jet. I flew to New York then buckled in for an overnight flight over the Atlantic. At least I didn’t suffer on my own. My boss and I went through it together.
I hated flying. I barely got a wink of sleep, jolting awake with each bump. Even the most minor turbulence spiked my feelings of unease. Fortunately, I hadn’t seen a single demon spawn or netherworld monster since my last visit with Layla and I kept reminding myself that if turbulence was my only problem, then I was lucky.
Watson, on the other hand, spent most of his time snoring, leaving me envious of how comfortable he was. After several tries, I finally gave up trying to rest and opted to do as much last-minute preparation as possible. At least there’d been enough room to work in first class.
A svelte, long-legged lady with bright eyes and a button nose met us right as we disembarked. She’d been sent by the client to smooth the immigration and customs process. Watson gave me a naughty wink as her hips swayed all the way to the VIP lounge.
Fifteen minutes later, we were ushered into a luxury vehicle which sped us past large boulders and soon enough, a bustling metropolis with all types of cars and buildings. By the time we got to the city center, I was in awe.
When we pulled into the hotel, Kevin reminded me we had a dinner to attend and we agreed to meet in the lobby. I ogled all the beautiful women around the lobby. One of them, a dark-skinned stunner with short curly hair flashed a grin at me.
All memories of the long flight erased, I realized the trip might prove to be fun.
***
“So, how long have you lived in Nigeria, Gladys?”
“Off and on, over the last five years.”
Sitting with Gladys had made dinner entertaining. She’d shared hilarious stories of her experiences in Nigeria. “I maintain my base in Johannesburg though,” she added in her accented English.
“I hear Johannesburg is lovely. Hopefully, I’ll get to visit someday.”
“Be sure to look me up when you do.” The look she gave told me I’d be stupid not to.
“No problem,” I said with a smile and took a sip of my bourbon.
We were seated in a private room within a crowded restaurant. So far, we’d had six courses, but the food and drink continued to pour in. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take but I didn’t want to be rude to our hosts, so I nibbled on what Gladys said was a nem. It looked like a spring roll from a Chinese restaurant back home but tasted so much better, even when not dipped in the translucent red sauce it came with.
“Some of us are going out to a club later. Want to join?” She sank into me.
Our eyes met. She was distractedly pretty—jet black hair pulled into a knot at her nape, round-shaped eyes framed by long, fluttering lashes. Her lips, an inviting red, seemed to always catch my eye no matter what we were talking about. My mind veered to how soft her skin would feel.
Abruptly, I remembered the reason why I came to the motherland in the first place. The client expected Watson and me at nine in the morning. We—or rather, I—had to convince them that the firm could handle all their legal needs for a planned business expansion. If all went well, my bonus at the end of the year would have more zeros than I wanted to dwell on. Success would also mean I had climbed one more rung on the ladder. Given my remaining jet lag, I didn’t think going to the club made much sense. Besides, the Hitman would have my hide if I wasn’t on my A-game tomorrow.
“I’ll have to pass,” I replied, my tone apologetic.
My rejection didn’t sit well with her as her lips pinched. Nonetheless, she soon gave a playful grin. “Well, tell
me what room you’re in and I can swing by later for a nightcap.”
“9238.”
***
The knock on my door happened much earlier than I expected. A look at the clock on the bedside table showed it was just before midnight. As my bare feet padded softly against the room’s carpet, I suddenly realized I never told Gladys what hotel I was in.
“How did you know what hotel I was in?” I asked once the door opened, and she flashed a pearly-white grin.
“This is the best hotel in the capital. You wouldn’t stay anywhere else.” She glided past. “Imperial Suite, huh?” She sounded impressed as she gave the room the once-over then looked me up and down. “Very nice.”
It had been a long time since anyone made me feel self-conscious, but she did. Standing there in my pajama pants, I watched her eyes rake over me.
“All thanks to the client.” Heading to the minibar, I asked, “What can I get you to drink? I’m not sure what the selection is like but,”—I pulled out a can of soda and a tiny whiskey bottle— “we should be able to make something nice with…”
I straightened and faced her only to lose my voice. Where she once had on a silk blouse and blue pants, she was now in nothing but lace undergarments. Very sexy, dark blue underwear that sent my heart into overdrive. I hadn’t been here a full day, and I already loved Nigeria.
Closing the distance between us in less than four strides, my hands found as much of her soft bits as possible. Her lips were hot as her tongue sought mine. She slipped her hands around my neck and screamed, scurrying away from me.
What the hell?
“Are you all right?”