Relics and Runes Anthology

by Heather Marie Adkins

  As she gave a lap dance for the boys, she made eye contact with Diamary who had finally decided to tend to her customer, Tommy. Tommy whispered something in Diamary’s ear and the two of them stood to go to a private room. That was where the real money was made, but as they walked with his hand proprietarily wrapped around her waist, she fainted.

  “Somebody help!” Tommy yelled as he struggled to keep her head from smacking against the floor. Tommy had been known to get rough with the girls, but Diamary was the only one who knew how to handle him. She had that way about her.

  “What did you do, Tommy?” Murphy asked, jamming an index finger in Tommy’s shoulder. “I warned you—”

  “I didn’t do anything. I swear, Murph. She just passed out.”

  “Call 911,” Murphy demanded as he checked her pulse and tried to get her to regain consciousness.

  Misty sidled up behind Murphy, and said, “Diamary and Josie were arguing just a few minutes ago. I wouldn’t put anything past Josie.”

  Misty shot Josie a dirty look and addressed her directly, “What did you do to her, Josie? Did you spike her drink?”

  Offended, Josie said, “Of course not. I’d never do anything to hurt her.” Josie tried to move past the crowd, which was quickly forming, but the bouncers stood in her way.

  “Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like you to stay until the police get here,” Murphy said.

  23

  May 12, 2008

  Kelly had blacked out again. This time she woke up on the park bench on Lexington Avenue across town. With the bus schedules being inconsistent at times, she had to take a cab to get to work on time. When she arrived at work, she wasted no time scrambling out of the cab since she’d paid her fare ahead of time. She ran into the diner and went straight to the time clock to punch in. Then headed to the employee locker room to stow her purse and retrieve her apron. Taking a cursory glance at the schedule, she noted which tables had been assigned to her for the shift.

  She stopped at table twelve. “Hi, what can I get for you?”

  “I’ll have a cup of coffee, black, and a slice of apple pie.”

  “Coming right up.”

  Kelly went behind the counter to pour the coffee. As she took a slice of pie, she noticed a man advancing toward her from her peripheral.

  “I thought that was you. I didn’t know you worked here, too.”

  Kelly smiled, regarding him inquisitively as one does with a stranger. He had mistaken her identity, but she let him continue to talk, hoping he would soon realize she wasn’t the same person he had in mind.

  “Have you always worked here?”

  “Yes, it’s my only job,” Kelly said, placing the pie back in its container.

  “No, I’m your best customer. It hasn’t been the same without you,” he said, with a prurient tone.

  The conversation had gone from innocent to inappropriate and she didn’t want to entertain any salacious ideas he might have in mind. She had to nip this in the bud. “I’m sorry. I think you’ve mistaken my identity.”

  “No, I never miss a show. You’re actually the best dancer they’ve got.”

  “Now, I’m positive we’re not acquainted. I’ve got two left feet. I’d be the laughing stock, I’m sure.”

  He looked at her warily. “I was sure it was you. You look just like her—you’re not just saying this because you don’t want to be outed,” he lowered his voice in a hushed tone before continuing, “as an exotic dancer?”

  “Sir,” Kelly said with umbrage, “let me assure you that I’ve never set eyes on you prior to today and I’m certainly not a dancer of any sort at this—”

  “Charleston Lounge,” he added.

  “Charleston Lounge that you seem to frequent.”

  “Miss, my pie?” The customer’s timing was impeccable, giving her an excuse to end the uncomfortable conversation and a reason to abscond from his leering gaze.

  “If you’ll excuse, I have to get back to my customer.”

  “My apologies,” he said, never taking his eyes off of her as she walked away.

  Kendra sat in the lobby area at the Max Center. As she waited for Julian, her thoughts drifted back to the shift they’d worked together. Reflecting on the litany of personal questions she’d asked, and it made her cringe. How could she be so obvious? Her preoccupation with Margie was unwarranted, because Julian wasn’t the least bit interested in Margie and Kendra would have known that if she’d gotten the nerve to speak to him sooner. Instead she let Tyler occupy her time at work with his overt and blatant pursuits, which clearly didn’t go unnoticed by Julian since he’d thought she and Tyler were a thing. Ha, as if she’d be fool enough to fall for Tyler’s lines. Although handsome, Kendra required monogamy and the very notion was foreign to Tyler. She entertained him, but she never took him seriously.

  Kendra checked the time on the digital display across the wall. 7:58 PM. No, he’ll be here. It was very unsettling to imagine being stood up, but Julian was pumped about the concert. He wouldn’t just no-show; he would have called her if he couldn’t make it.

  Kendra checked her emails, replied to some text messages, and browsed a few web articles on her phone while she waited. She glanced at the time again. 8:25 PM. What the heck? Where was he?

  It would be so humiliating and depressing to attend the concert alone. She thought of all the pity stares she’d attract from onlookers.

  No way. His loss.

  She pulled up her contacts on her phone. When she found the name she was searching for, she dialed the number.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” Kendra asked.

  “Nothing, just watching the game.”

  “Not anymore; come to the concert with me.”

  “Where are you?”

  “It’s at the Max Center.”

  “Give me twenty.”

  Kendra considered calling Julian to confront him, but she fought the urge and opted to order a glass of Prosecco instead at the bar.

  She’d just ordered a second glass when she felt strong arms wrap around her waist from behind.

  “Hey you,” he murmured in her ear.

  “That was fast, Tyler,” she said, kissing his cheek by means of greeting.

  “Of course, I’d never have you waiting,” he replied, revealing perfectly straight teeth.

  The next day, Kendra was going to let Julian have it. Despite having already made up her mind that she no longer was interested in dating him, it was the principle and she felt she deserved an explanation.

  Attitude in place, she marched into the hotel and dared anyone to say anything to deter her. She checked the schedule and saw Julian was assigned the lobby desk. As she approached the desk, his back was turned. She could only see the back of his head capped with the security hat and the top of his shoulders since most of his body was concealed by the chair.

  Preferring the element of surprise, she didn’t make a sound as she yanked his chair around to look the flake in the eyes.

  “Kendra! What the hell? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Margie shrieked.

  Realizing her gaffe, Kendra could see now that Margie’s security jacket covered her long hair. “I’m so sorry, I thought you were Julian.”

  “Didn’t you hear?” Margie asked somberly.

  “Hear what?”

  “Julian’s in the hospital.”

  24

  May 14, 2008

  The smell of burnt rubber woke Kelly from another blackout about five hundred feet in front of her, a black sedan came dangerously close to rear-ending an Audi. The Audi driver had just gotten out of the car for confrontation, shouting a few choice words. As he approached the driver side of the sedan, it peeled out of there.

  “Fucking maniac,” he shouted at the sedan, fishtailing erratically to escape.

  Kelly stood up completely dazed and annoyed that she had another blackout. At least she seemed to frequent the same area. She recognized the park that she found herself lost in a few weeks ago
after coming to from a blackout.

  There was a chill in the air. She chaffed her arms attempting to generate some heat to warm them. It was ten o’clock at night. So the buses had stopped running regularly about an hour ago. How was she going to get home?

  Feeling vulnerable out in the open, Kelly crossed the street searching for a place to get her bearings. There had to be some sort of café opened twenty-four hours. Yawning expansively, she altered her game plan to find a place to rest. She spotted a hotel on the corner of Betancourt Road and walked towards it, hoping she had enough money to pay for a night. Panic settled over her as she checked her pockets for her money and cell phone. Phew, she hadn’t been mugged while she was passed out.

  She entered the Argent Hotel and approached the front desk, but no one was there. A cute little bell was tucked in a corner with a sign which read, please ring bell for service. She did as instructed and tapped the bell. Moments later, a tall woman dressed in a security uniform scurried behind the desk. “I’m so sorry. I’m pulling double duty tonight. I’m Margie. How can I help you?”

  “Hi Margie, how much would it cost to stay for a night?”

  “Sixty-five dollars for the night, which includes the continental breakfast and check out is at eleven.”

  “Okay, I’ll take a room.”

  While updating the system with Kelly’s demographical information, Margie asked, “Are you related to the Taylors?”

  “No, but I do have cousins with the last name Miller.”

  “Hmmm, you just look like a friend of mine. Same eyes, same nose. You probably hear this a lot,” she said, pulling out her cell phone to find a picture. “His name is Julian.”

  Kelly took the phone to humor Margie, but she was completely nonplussed to see the uncanny resemblance. Same alpine nose and same lips—full lower lip and thin upper lip. And those eyes—it was like staring back into her gray eyes. “What was his last name, again? Taylor?”

  “Yes, that’s right. Taylor.”

  “Is he working tonight?”

  Sniffling, Margie struggled to repress tears. “No, he’s in the hospital. He was found unconscious in his apartment. He has seizures and he must have hit his head during an episode. He—”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Julian would have gotten a kick out of seeing you. He’d say something funny like, ‘She must be my sister from another mister!’” Margie said, her eyes glistening. “Anyway, I usually don’t blubber like this in front of guests.”

  “No, don’t apologize.”

  “You’re a sweetheart,” Margie said, changing the subject, “Here’s your key, Room 412. Let me know if you need anything.”

  Kelly took the hint and took the key, thanking her as she walked away to the elevators.

  Once in her room, Kelly looked up Julian Taylor’s address. Fortunately, he was listed in the white pages. Forty-nine Lexington Avenue, apartment 2B. Wait, she was on Lexington Ave—in the apartment building—and she recalled descending a few flights of steps down to the lobby. She tried to remember if forty-nine was the building she was in, but it was a blur. She’d been much more concerned about how she'd gotten there as opposed to taking in every detail of the apartment building she'd wandered into at random. She plugged in the address into the search engine. The results page included a map entry. Bypassing the map, she scrolled down to the next entry under the description: Avery Heights Apartments. When she selected the entry, it brought her to a clear close-up of the front lobby with the copper mailboxes and familiar staircase leading up to the first level of apartments. She toggled through the rest of the photos recognizing the mosaic of teal and pale yellow on the hallway walls. This was definitely the apartment building she was in. Maybe it wasn’t so random after all. She jotted down the address and decided to go back there in the morning.

  Part IV

  25

  March 18, 2008

  Ares was bent over the guard rail that lined the cliff overlooking Los Angeles after being dropped off there by Evie. He felt nauseated and purged the scant contents of his stomach, not yet accustomed to teleporting in this form.

  “Are you okay?” Evie asked as she rubbed and patted his back. Ares nodded while he continued to puke.

  “So the old god can’t hang,” Evie said, simpering.

  Ares gave her a sidewise glance and Evie threw up her arms apologetically, and said, “Oh, I’m just kidding! The same thing happened to the coven when we first learned how to teleport. It will get better and, then, if you’re lucky, maybe even orgasmic.

  Ares cocked an upward eyebrow at her again in objection. “I don’t know about all of that.”

  “What? Women are built differently than men. You can’t even begin to fathom what makes us climax.” Evie handed him a hypoallergenic wipe.

  “I think I could come up with a thing or two,” Ares replied, swabbing his face with the wipe and popping a stick of spearmint gum in his mouth.

  Evie blushed and turned away to survey her surroundings. Observing her reaction, Ares immediately regretted his comment. Evie had become a friend and he didn’t want to offend her by misconstruing her intent.

  “Forgive me. I did not mean anything by it,” Ares said as he laid a gentle hand over Evie’s hand. She stroked it tenderly in reciprocation, giving him a look that confirmed his initial interpretation of their conversation was accurate. Evie moved her hands up from his sculpted chest to his strong shoulders. He caressed her cheek, lifted her chin, and kissed her tenderly.

  Ares pulled away to gauge her expression.

  “It’s okay. It feels good,” Evie said, surprising him with a hungry kiss.

  Their friendship had always been platonic, but the more time Ares spent with Evie the more his heart began to soften and open up to her. She was always there for him and invariably yanking him out of trouble like she had just done only fifteen minutes ago.

  Ares had been very careful, but somehow the Quorum had found him again. The tools at their disposal were numerous, although, more often than not, they tended to use light teleportation. This time they employed another means of capture since Ares had been previously detained, but managed to get away. It was a muddy, quicksand-like substance and it appeared directly underneath him. The dark, murky matter surrounded him. It extended its oozing tendrils all over his body, covering his face. He thought it was over for him until Evie reached into the ooze, pulled him out, and teleported him to the bluff.

  He felt safe with her, but lonely at the same time. So when she gave him the green light, how could he deny himself any longer?

  Ares was suffused with excitement and anticipation as Evie grazed the flesh on his neck with her teeth. He'd always found Evie attractive, but he never thought he stood a chance with the aloof witch. Always occupied with unearthing unique spells, Evie didn't spare much time for others. However, she'd taken a liking to Ares and it was obvious by the way she dropped everything to come to his rescue. He was important to her and it was only a matter of time before they admitted their feelings for one another.

  Adept hands explored the curves of Evie's body as Ares pressed soft kisses onto her supple skin. Then, with an avidity to match his own eagerness, Evie yanked off his shirt, and discarded it. Unable to contain herself, she wrestled Ares to the ground, and curled her limbs around him. Their bodies rolled across the grassy mounds of the cliff, coming to a stop by the pine trees. Her hands clawed at Ares’s bare chest, leaving streaks of dirt down his hairy navel and across his face. Ares spoiled her, obliging every indulgence. Everything else drifted away as he could concentrate on nothing else but each intoxicating kiss and the sensation of her heady breathing against his skin.

  Wide awake, Ares stared at Evie fast asleep in the crook of his arm. Careful not to disturb her, he quietly propped himself up. As always, he couldn’t sleep. He often thought of his past, trying to see if he’d missed anything. It was true he was a bonafide stole away, hitching a ride from his anonymous benefactor forty years ago. Someone on the insi
de or maybe the Creator, himself, had helped him. No, it couldn’t be the Creator. There was no way he would help Ares after he’d been complicit in breaking the laws, spreading his blasphemous, irreverent rhetoric to anyone who would listen. Of all things: declaring himself a God and demanding disciples. Ares had been off the rails, completely deserving of the fate that awaited him.

  But somehow he miraculously survived, unscathed. It seemed someone was looking out for him. So he couldn't have been that bad, right? A rationale he often employed whenever difficult decisions had to be made. Someone had gone out of their way to spare his hide and he would show his gratitude by getting captured again? No, he wasn't going to squander his second chance.

  Ares was steadfast in his quest to find a means to protect himself and seldom noticed the consequences of his actions. It was never an afterthought about how far he would go or the repercussions to follow. It just wasn't a priority he could afford. The single most important goal was survival. The best way to fend off the Quorum would be a good defense.

  When Ares ended up on Earth, stripped of his powers, he panicked. He needed his powers to protect himself. He spent years trying to recreate the conditions that could restore his Olympian powers. Always quick on his feet, he had managed to preserve a serving of Ambrosia. It was dumb luck, really. Ares had it on his person when the Quorum apprehended him. Provisions meant to quell his appetite suddenly became his salvation. The Ambrosia, which symbolically represented the indigenous ascendant race of Cronus, could potentially be used to restore him. With the help of a witch, he was able to use the Ambrosia, synthesizing it into a serum back in 1997. But there was one caveat—he didn't know what adverse effects it might have on an Elysian that had already ascended. The Elysian could be afflicted with a deadly infirmity borne from this experimental concoction.