We had both killed, both seen men die by our violence, but he had never had anyone taken from him. I had. I had lost my sister. And now, I was reliving the pain of finding her broken, bloody body. She was late coming home from school. We had our eyes on the prize in the sixties. She was graduating high school, planning on going to college to be a nurse. For the first time, nothing was out of our reach, not even the stars. I was going to be a lawyer. I was going to fight the establishment, free our brothers who protested against the ills of society.
Then some bastard who couldn’t stand to see anybody living a better life, who had been watching her walk home for days, hit her in the head with a brick. He raped her then killed her. Everybody knew who he was, what he was, but nobody did anything. And the cops didn’t care. I even told them where they could find him, but she was a black girl. They barely came when I called them. They yawned when I asked for help. Being a lawyer wouldn’t have done anything for her, so I dropped out.
That bastard should have killed me instead of her. I waded through blood, skin and screams for a year until he and his people were dead. Then I drank and did drugs till I was high as a kite, but I still could never deal with what had happened, forget her face when I found her thrown like a piece of garbage in an alley two blocks from our house.
And it all came back to me now seeing Alexa die with her face like my little sister’s, die when I thought finally with her happiness I could find some peace. It was like Jenny had come back to me to say she was okay. She was happy. But it had happened again. No matter how high you climbed, the dogs were always barking at your heels waiting to steal whatever they could get their teeth on.
I stood over Cristien, unable to do anything, while I choked on my own pain, fought my own shadows. There was nothing for the pain but the slow wear of time. Only time could make it fade, only hundreds of years might help him. I was still waiting.
But he couldn’t. Something happened, something worse than the pain. He let her go, and all the suffering left his face. All the torment left his body and solidified, knotting into a dark ghost near his heart. It broke over him, tore through him, exploding and rippling over his skin in a sick blistering wave, turning his body to a black purple inky bruise.
I stepped back as it swelled his limbs and face like a poison. His wings burst out from his back tattered and bloody, destroying his shirt. His hands turned into massive paws. Shard sharp, six inch claws jutted from them. His hair became white as cotton. In a few moments, he was unrecognizable. A devil in the flesh.
And still it was him. It was Cristien somewhere inside there. As I had been inside the monster who had killed twenty-two men to try and put my sister’s ghost to rest. But it had taken a succubus with a heart of gold to bring me back. I would be dead without El. I was just too afraid to put the gun to my head. So, I put it in my veins and up my nose. Then bam, I was immortal, and the drugs did nothing for me. I had to deal with it.
El said to me one night, after so many nights when I couldn’t even close my eyes without waking up in a cold sweat shouting my sister’s name, “She loved you. Do you think she would want you to hurt this way?”
I wept. I wept like I hadn’t when I found Jenny or at her funeral. Jenny would want me to go on. “Be good,” she’d say, “take care of momma.” So, I got good, and I took care of my mom till she passed. But Cristien’s love was dead. His heart of gold had stopped. I was all he had left.
I called to him, to my friend, willing him to come back. I knew where he was going. I had been there. I had been to hell. Alexa would not want him to do what I had done. She would not be able to bear seeing him this way.
“Cristien,” I called.
He turned toward me, and his eyes were pools of blood. Tears of blood ran down his face. He looked at me, and I knew he didn’t know me. All I wanted to say passed away. It turned to dirt in my mouth. There was nothing left in those eyes but remains, things to be done. He flew away. I looked from him to Alexa. Then I took to the air. I couldn’t do anything for her anymore but try and save him after the killing was over. It would take time. It would have to go through the steps, first revenge then healing.
I knew where Cristien would go. I knew what I would want in his place. Blood. I wanted it now. Whether Alexa was my daughter or not, my sister come back to me or not, she didn’t deserve to die that way. She was a child, an innocent child. How could they hurt her that way? I could barely see while I flew. I kept wiping my eyes to keep Cristien in sight. He soared up to the roof of the building and looked around. Then he headed east.
I looked too when I landed. I saw what he had seen, two fresh energy signatures near the edge of the roof. One I recognized, one I didn’t. Abe had been here. They had watched, he and Lily. They had wanted to see what they had done to Cristien. They had wanted to see him fall apart. Had they waited long enough to see him turn into the devil incarnate? They would run. We would follow. I leapt from the roof, taking off after Cristien again.
I still didn’t know why Lily had done it. Abe was a bastard, a jealous, sniveling, bastard. He couldn’t do it alone. He would need balls, and from what I knew of her, Lily had enough for the two of them. But why? If she hated Cristien that much, why not kill him? You want to hurt a guy, killing him pretty much is as good as you can get. Now, Cristien would come after her.
I never left anybody alive. It was stupid. And she wasn’t stupid. Then why? I realized then that she expected Cristien to come after her, but not like this. Not this thing, but Cristien, younger and slower than her. She would beat him and humiliate him and leave him alive. He could chase her through time and never win. That was what she wanted, what she always had from him. She would be the center of his life, the dark star around which he revolved.
I didn’t know if she were stronger than Cristien now or not, but I would be with him. Did they count on that? Did they care? I was younger than Abe. Maybe he thought he could take me. Maybe she thought with Abe she could even the odds. But I would cut the man down. I would teach him, teach him his final lesson, not to fuck with me and mine. That boy never understood the word loyalty. He would understand it tonight.
Whether Cristien wanted or understood my help, I would be with him when he found them. And if they troubled him. I would trouble them. This was their last night on the planet. I swore it to Alexa. She would not die alone. I would make them understand what they had done. They would understand pain before we left them like garbage in the street.
I only hoped that after it was done, there would be a way to bring Cristien back again. Maybe when he had his vengeance, it would be enough. It hadn’t been for me, but perhaps Cristien could survive it. He was stronger and better than any person I knew. I hoped he was strong enough to live.
We flew on, Cristien putting on speed. I had to work hard to keep up, to keep him in sight. Then he was gone. We were over 120th Street, not the greatest neighborhood. So, the cops wouldn’t be anywhere around. A good place to kill someone.
When I landed, I was a bit disappointed because it was only Abe cringing on the ground. Cristien had caught him by the leg and was dragging him down a filthy alley. He was screaming. Cristien’s claws had dug out great gouges in his flesh.
“It wasn’t me. It was Lily. You know I wouldn’t cross you. You know I wouldn’t. It was her,” he screamed.
I followed them. I could smell the bleach on the man. One of his eyes was sealed shut. Alexa had fought him. Somehow that hurt worse than anything, thinking of her fighting off those bastards alone. I wanted to cut out his heart and feed it to him. Then the piece of crap saw me.
“Lance, help me, man! Tell him! Tell him!” he yelled.
I leaned against the wall. I had heard men swear on their mother’s, daughter’s, and wife’s lives that they had not done this or that, with the evidence hanging out of their pockets. You would think at the end, when you knew you were gonna get it anyway, you’d finally be a man.
Cristien stopped dragging him. He evidently had heard enou
gh because he hurled Abe into the brick wall. He lifted him with one arm, and slammed him into the building. Abe’s body hit with a crunching sound, like a sack full of plates, and then Cristien dropped him to the ground. Abe pulled himself to all fours and tried to fly for it again. His wings exploded like a telecast punch. Cristien caught him by the neck and tore the wings from his body with a sickening sound, like he was ripping cloth.
Usually, we needed to use a sword to do the job, all that bone and sinew. But Cristien severed them like they were rotten and flung them to ground. Abe wailed, flailing about crazily in his pain. His fists and feet made contact but no difference. Cristien grabbed his leg again, and smashed him into the wall repeatedly, like he was beating a rug. Abe finally stopped moving and stopped making sounds. Cristien tossed him down and walked past me.
He was going to leave Abe alive? Well, I wasn’t. I moved closer then heard the sound of stone being pounded to dust and the screeching of metal. I hugged the wall and turned around to see Cristien returning with a long piece of rebar he had pulled out of the side of a building.
“What the hell?” I wondered out loud. Then I got my answer but wished I hadn’t.
Cristien used the rebar to impale Abe. I turned away while he drove the metal into the man. I had never seen anything like that. I was all for killing, but this was too much. Cristien started pounding something. I had to look though I didn’t want to. He was driving the metal stake into the ground. Then he bent down and dragged his right claw against the cement. When he raised it, his hand danced with a dark fire. He turned his palm toward Abe who was somehow still alive. The fire was like nothing else on this earth.
Abe shrieked and writhed as it burned black and consumed him slowly. The smell, the screams were beyond bearing. There was no thought of pity or mercy now. In the end, only the melted metal pole remained. Good, I thought, good. Then I threw up.
Cristien strode past me and took to the air. I stumbled after, following, feeling old, feeling older than old. But I kept with him. We went back the way we came, to the apartment. I looked down, though Cristien probably did not. The police were finally there. I didn’t see Alexa anymore. One down, I told her.
Cristien headed northeast. We must be after Lily now. We ended up at LaGuardia airport as the sun was rising. I could feel my wings rebelling, my strength waning. The bitch could be anywhere by now. Cristien went straight in through the front doors without stopping or changing. Glass rained down. People scattered in terror, screaming in all directions, tripping over luggage.
I landed on the roof of a parking garage across the street. My wings disappeared, and I raced down the stairs. By the time I got to the sidewalk, Cristien burst through a glass window stories above me. He was fighting a woman that had the wings and legs of a bird. What the hell? Was that Lily? They trading blow for blow, fire for fire as they flew into the air.
I couldn’t follow. The sun was up. I waited for them to fall, but they kept going out of sight. I took the first taxi that would stop for me, shirtless as I was. He only stopped because of the fifty I was waving in the air. Then I went back to the apartment. The cops were everywhere. I was questioned and asked for my ID to prove I lived in the building. The door man was vouching for me while I was pulling out my wallet. The two rings nearly fell from my pocket. I pushed them back down. All I needed was to be caught with a four carat diamond ring covered in blood. A black man with unexplained jewelry on him. They would shoot me full of holes. At least fifty bullets before I could say, “Well, sir, you see, it’s like this.”
Unfortunately, the cops shot black people like they were taking down Superman. Fifty bullets would probably kill me, supernatural as I was. Either way, I didn’t want to find out. I was painfully aware that if I were white it would be a different story. I could hold them off for six hours with a rubber gun and they’d never fire even if I had a pile of bodies behind me.
When they let me go, I got in my Rolls. There was only one place I could go for help. I pulled out of the underground garage and raced away. I banged on Chandraswami’s gated storefront for a good fifteen minutes, but no one was home. I couldn’t open his locks for some reason, so I returned to the car and lost consciousness waiting for him to come to work.
I woke from him tapping on my door window. I blinked. The guy had a brighter aura than even Cristien or Alexa had. Theirs were blinding gold recently, but this guy was a treasury of sparkling gems. When I first met him, I assumed he was a demigod like they would become, but now I knew he was something else entirely.
“What happened?” he asked, after I rolled down the window.
The whole night raced through my mind, making me relive it again. I had to swallow before I could talk.
“Alexa’s dead. Cristien’s turned into some kind of monster. You have to help him.”
“Alexa is dead? How?”
I hung my head. “They killed her. Lily devoured her. Took her life.
“Where is she?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” I was sobbing now like a kid. “The cops must have taken her.”
“Come, come, inside,” he said pulling open my door. I was over two heads taller than him, but he pulled me from the car like I weighed nothing and dragged me into his store. He took me in the back.
“You have to help him,” I sobbed.
He mixed something up. “Drink. Drink this.”
I pushed it away. I didn’t want anything. I didn’t want to feel better.
“This is not your hour, incubus. If you are to help, you must drink. Nor have you eaten much by your color. You need strength, so we may help your friends. Come, drink.”
I took it to my mouth and swallowed. It tasted good. It was the only good thing I had felt since I had gotten home last night.
“There. That is better. Now tell me again about Alexa”
I rubbed my hand through my hair,” I told you, she ate her, then threw her down into the pool, eleven floors.”
“Did she cut off her head?”
“No,” I cried, horrified.
“Then there’s a chance.”
“She’s dead. I saw her. Cristien turned into a monster because of it. It’s too late.”
“Her heart may have stopped, but her physical binding to this world may not be broken. She is strong. Her will may still be holding her here. We must hurry. When did this happen?”
“Last night.”
“What hour?”
“Around 3:30.”
“There may be time yet.” He turned away from me. “Yue Yue! We must hurry. The young ones are in trouble.”
I thought he was talking to me. Then a woman of incredible loveliness entered the room. She shone like him. Her skin was pale as milk, her hair a crown of black, so black the highlights were white. She glanced at me from under long lashes. Her eyes were almond shaped. She wore a red silk dress that swept the floor.
“What must be done?” she said. Her voice was like church music.
“Bring the bandages. I will bring the rest.”
Chandraswami left, then returned a few minutes later with his wife and two big bags each on their shoulders. He handed me a long white cotton shirt. I put it on. It fit. I thanked him. He nodded to me.
“They would have taken her to the city morgue. I will make calls. I have friends there. Let us go.”
We walked outside. He had the phone to his ear before we stepped out onto the sidewalk. I got in the driver’s seat, and they sat in the back. He was talking in his foreign language fast with just enough English thrown in here and there to make it interesting nonsense to me. He was gesturing with his hands and head the whole time.
“Okay, teek hey, teek hey. I will be there. Do nothing.” He tapped me on the shoulder: “She’s there. He was about to call me. The light is still with her. Hurry. Maybe I should drive. Yes, let me.”
“I can drive,” I told him, gripping the wheel while the hope for Alexa’s return filled me.
“No, you will not go fast enough.” He
got out, and so did his wife. I had to sit in the back.
He floored the pedal. Okay, I had been in getaway chases with bullets flying all around me that were less reckless. He drove like a taxi driver on crack. I knew we were all going to die six times before we got to the morgue. I cursed all the way there at every near fender-bender or head on, every pedestrian whose toes we must have clipped, every finger we got and the long endless blaring of horns that followed us.
When we reached the office of the Medical Examiner, he turned to me and smiled. “I used to drive in Delhi. New York is nothing.”
Chandraswami was let in the place with no problem. They seemed to know him, and he knew his way around through the endless corridors. We took an elevator downstairs. Another East Indian was waiting for us when the steel doors opened. He put his hands together before Swami. Then he led us into a viewing room with Alexa on a stretcher, covered with a white sheet. I stayed by the door.
Chandraswami walked over, pulled back the sheet and raised a hand over Alexa. His white energy seeped into her charred skin. His wife joined him and both of them poured light into her. I waited, hopelessly.
I had not moved any closer to the white light. I remained at the mouth of the tunnel. There was something I was not understanding. I was being shown. I was being given an opportunity to choose what I wanted. Something was giving me a choice to go forward or back. I wanted to live.
Then she appeared like a darkness in the darkness surrounded by light. A ring of light that got larger as it came closer. Then she was a sound, a strange trundling sound. Then the circlet bent into a little old woman. The same little old homeless woman who had pushed her cart aimlessly on the streets of Manhattan.
Without a word, she came toward me and started taking off my clothes.
The Innocent Page 28