by Paul Neuhaus
Taft surprised herself by taking the box and scurrying out.
6
Bloodlines
When Quinn got home, there was a black Lincoln town car parked in her spot. She hated parking in the narrow driveway but angled her Prius in behind Molly’s Cooper. She got out and collected the three paper bags of stuff she’d bought at the grocery. She kicked the car door closed with her foot and made for the front door. The wood had just been painted and Henaghan realized she’d need to be precise in her grab for the doorknob. A voice from behind her said, “Here, let me get that for you. A big hand, attached to a big arm reached around her and turned the knob. The stranger gave the knob a push and Quinn was able to enter the house. Josie and Molly, both of them sitting at the dining room table, looked up when the door opened. Taft came forward to relieve Henaghan of some of the bags. Flustered, the redhead turned to see who her rescuer had been.
She recognized him. It was Adam Johns, the new chieftain of the Resolute. Again with her foot, she reached up and kicked the door shut.
As Quinn walked by with the remaining groceries, Molly watched her with a twinkle. “Friend of yours?”
Henaghan spoke without turning. “That’s the guy that killed Cam and Glen.”
Both Blank and Taft said at the same time, “What?!”
“You can’t just let him get away with it!” Josie said.
“No more fighting on these premises. Once was enough. It cost us plenty.”
Josie tried to force her way past her aunt. “Well, I’m not gonna let—”
Quinn grabbed the teenager hard by her arm. “No, I said.”
In a flash of pure rage, Josie took a swing at Quinn. She connected and sent the smaller woman careening to the floor. Quinn dropped the bag she was carrying, and apples rolled in all directions. Taft leapt over her aunt and made a beeline for the front door. Molly rose with surprising speed and tackled Josie. She slid up the girl’s body and pressed her full weight down upon her. Though she was in great shape, Blank was by far the largest of the three women. Taft struggled beneath her.
By that time, Henaghan was standing over them. She had a bright bruise on her right cheek, and she was furious. “Go to your room!” she shouted. Josie wriggled out from underneath Molly and ran to her bedroom. “Go to her,” Quinn snapped to Molly. “Don’t let her come out.” She brushed past her girlfriend and headed toward the small foyer.
Molly stood. “What about the no-more-conflict?”
“Too late,” Henaghan said. She flung open the door, but Johns was no longer there—nor was the town car. On top of the welcome mat, there was a gift bag stuffed with colored tissue paper. The bag itself depicted balloons and confetti. Attached to one of the twine handles was a small card. It read, “Thinking of You”. Quinn brushed aside the tissue paper, so she could examine the bag’s contents. There, staring up at her through a riot of colored paper was Pietro Laskov’s severed head.
The little man looked surprised.
Before Molly could see what was in the bag, Quinn dropped it into the eddies and currents of the Astral Plane and let it drift away.
“What was that?” Blank said.
“Believe me, you don’t wanna know.”
“What was that man even doing here? He had to have known you’d either slam the door in his face or kill him outright.”
“Adam Johns has a reputation for bravado—if not out and out cockiness. He’s big, as you saw. Ex-military. Opinionated. Brash.” Quinn rubbed her cheek. The red spot was both growing and turning purple. “Come on,” she said. “I need some air. I’m getting a world-class headache.”
Quinn moved toward the back porch and Blank followed. “Don’t you want to talk to Josie first?” the brunette said.
“No, I do not want to talk to Josie first. Obviously, I’m gonna let her little love tap slide given the state she’s in, but I’m not gonna be anyone’s punching bag.”
The two women retired to the porch and sat down on Quinn’s former living room couch. There was a slight chill in the air and Henaghan pulled her bare legs up and hugged them to herself.
They sat quietly until the redhead spoke again. “A thought’s been rolling over and over in my head lately. What if this all never stops? What if, once every few weeks or few months, I get embroiled in a new shit storm? First of all, my body will probably eventually give out and second of all, it’s not the life I want. I don’t wanna keep doing this until I’m an old woman and everyone’s left me because they can’t stand the constant nonsense.”
“I’m not going to leave you,” Molly said. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.”
“Yeah, you say that now, but—”
Blank became angry. She even stomped her foot. “Quinn! Don’t take this away from me. And don’t project your own thoughts onto what I’m feeling.”
Henaghan shrank away at first, but then she grinned. “Okay. You don’t have to get all mad about it.”
Molly raised her hands from her lap. “Shut up. Come here.”
It took Quinn a moment to realize what Molly wanted. Then she laid her head on her girlfriend’s lap. Without being told, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Blank’s hands came down upon her, one on the back of her head and the other on her bare neck. The touch was soothing. Soon, the younger woman heard a voice inside her head. Not just inside her head, but throughout her core being. “Can you hear me?” the voice said.
“I can hear you,” Quinn said without making a sound. She felt Molly’s essence drift down and cover her like a blanket. The sensation was beyond soothing. It was profoundly intimate.
“Why can I do this? Why can we do this?”
“I don’t know,” the redhead replied. Then she was alarmed and disappointed when Molly retreated. Blank hadn’t done it to startle Henaghan, she’d been proving a point. Quinn opened her green eyes and came back to the real world.
“See? How could I ever leave you?”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s not a normal connection. Maybe I have some kind of a touchy-feely gift, but I don’t accept that as the whole explanation. It’s happening because it was meant to happen. We’re connected.”
Quinn sighed and rolled over, so she could look up at Molly. She started to say something but stopped to make an observation. “Oh, hey, you’ve got something in your teeth. Looks like spinach.”
“Thanks,” Molly said, running her thumbnail between her two front choppers. “Way to ruin a moment.”
“Whatever. Do you wanna just go around with spinach in your teeth?”
“No, but I— What the fuck?” The brunette had just looked through the screens and into their small backyard. She’d seen something out of the ordinary.
Henaghan came back up to a seated position and looked in the direction Molly was looking. Dozens of tiny blue birds with bright red heads occupied every tree limb. Some of the birds were bathing in the pond. There must’ve been hundreds of them. Quinn felt compelled to stand up and go out to them. She opened the back door and took a step out onto the lawn.
“Careful,” Blank said, following close behind.
“Why?” The redhead replied. “These are our people.”
Indeed, several of the birds took flight and either flew around Quinn or perched on her shoulders and outstretched arms.
Delighted, Quinn looked all around. She saw Josie inside the house, looking out at the odd scene on the lawn.
When Molly and Quinn got back into the house, Josie was there waiting for them. “What was that? What were all those birds doing? Was that the same kind of bird as Annabelle?”
All three women walked back toward the living room. Henaghan scowled. “We can talk about birds in a minute. Do you have anything you wanna say to me first?”
Taft scowled too. She didn’t wanna talk about her recent assault on her aunt. “I was angry. Just like you were when you ran off to San Francisco.”
“Okay, sure. But when I ran off to San Francisco, did I blindside an
yone on my own team?”
The girl plopped down on the couch and folded her arms in front of her chest. “No. But that guy deserved to die for what he did. You said he was the one that killed Cam and Glen. You said it.”
Molly and Quinn took the chairs facing the teenager. Molly spoke first. “Quinn said no more violence in this house and I agree. More importantly, no revenges allowed. Revenge is like quicksand. It pulls down not only the people directly involved but the people around them too. Your aunt’s impetuous. She’s run off more than once looking to right wrongs and leaving me to sit back and worry. Don’t be like your aunt.”
Henaghan looked at her girlfriend and her tone was defensive. “Hey, why is this suddenly about me? It was supposed be about don’t punch your family and then it ballooned into Quinn’s an irrational hothead.”
“I never said you were irrational,” Molly replied.
The redhead was still dumbfounded. “What happened to the nice time out on the porch with the communing and the commitmenting?”
“All that still stands. I’m just saying.”
Quinn turned to Josie. “Look, you’re gonna have to cut us a little slack. Clearly, the two of us should’ve gotten together a united front before talking to you. Instead of a single message, you’ve gotten two. Don’t punch your family and Quinn is not a role model.”
Josie was unimpressed by the conversation and all its odd twists and turns. “Check. No punch. No Quinn. Can I watch TV for a little while?”
Henaghan stood, flustered. “Sure, do whatever you want.” She stood next to Molly, looking down on her. “I need some quiet time.” She headed toward the bedroom but a knock on the door stopped her.
Molly, feeling guilty, stood and brushed past Quinn. “I’ll get it. Take your quiet time.” Quinn started to comply, but she was stopped before she got to the hallway leading to the bedroom. “Um, Quinn…?”
The redhead turned and looked over her shoulder. Past Molly and past the open front door, David Olkin and Ferley stood on the front porch. They both looked very serious. Quinn doubled back, resigned to the fact quiet time would have to wait.
“I’ll get coffee going,” Blank said as she ushered the two visitors to the dining room table. Henaghan joined the men. “I thought you were going back to Frisco,” she said to Ferley.
“Did I say that? I don’t remember saying that.”
Olkin drew the girl’s attention. “The West Coast front of the Jihma Dharmin war is right here in Los Angeles.”
Quinn’s head dropped, and a deep sigh escaped her. Hadn’t she just been complaining to Molly about how trouble seemed to follow her? “Please tell me you’re at least keeping it out of the public eye.”
Ferley responded. “We are, for now. But Adam Johns is a loose cannon. He’s not above following whatever damn fool idea pops into his head. That was supposedly a big part of what got him elected chief. The Resolute were ready for an outsider. They were ready for a change.”
“They’re fighting up at the Celestial Pictures ranch,” David added. Quinn was familiar with the property. Most of the big movie studios had a parcel of unspoiled land they used for location work. Celestial was no different. “Ferley’s right. Things’re contained up there for the time being. But this whole situation… It’s weird. It’s historic; it’s seismic and it could really have some deep implications going forward. But it’s so strange. It’s like the causes don’t justify the severity. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost say there’s something else at work here.”
Henaghan rubbed her eyes. Partly because she was tired and partly because she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Let me get this straight… You guys decided to get together in the woods somewhere and fight? That’s not what wars are. Wars aren’t people deciding to meet somewhere and duke it out.”
Ferley and Olkin looked at one another. “I’m not sure you’re up on your military history there,” Ferley said.
Molly put coffee cups in front of all three of them and went back into the living room to sit with Josie.
Ferley took a sip of his beverage and started to make another point but stopped. “Holy shit!” he said. “That’s the best damn coffee I’ve ever had.” He looked over at Molly. “Are you a Channeler? I didn’t think you were a Channeler. Is this some kind of next-level coffee sorcery?”
Blank smiled. “No sorcery. Just a little specialized knowledge and some tender loving care.”
Ferley whistled as he turned back to Quinn. “Either you marry her, or I will. No joke.”
David was tired himself. “Yeah, this is really great fucking coffee, but let’s not get off-track.”
“Right,” Ferley said, looking admonished. “I’m on-track. You’ve got the next bit.”
Quinn turned to her former boss as he spoke. “I’m going to go up there. Maybe for a few days. Ferley and me have been thinking. Maybe we can broker a meeting with Johns. Talk some sense into him. I mean, technically, I’m Resolute myself but I was a Never Johns-er from the beginning. Still, maybe he’ll listen to me since we sport the same colors.”
Henaghan shook her head. “Oh, David. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Johns isn’t a politician, he’s a strongman. A dictator in the making. I don’t think he understands reason.” She took a sip of her own coffee. “He was here yesterday.”
“What?!” Olkin and Ferley said at once.
“Yeah,” Quinn said. “I wouldn’t let him in, but he left a gift. His idea of a peace offering. It was Pietro Laskov’s head in a bag.”
“Laskov? Simone Gros’ little friend? Why would you want his head?”
“Johns was being cute. He sent Pietro here to leave a gizmo. A gizmo that’d get the Tīvara past my ward. No doubt he told Laskov that’d get him off the hook for his part in the raid on the pyramid. Laskov was, let’s face it, not very bright.”
Ferley looked down into his coffee, clearly worried. “Well. That’s about as subtle as a brick to the head.”
The redhead again turned to David. “You’re determined to go up there?”
“I am.”
“You’re not going to let me talk you out of it?”
“I’m not.”
“Do you need me to go with you?”
From the couch, Molly and Josie both gasped.
Olkin shook his head. “Not only do I not need you to come, I forbid you to.”
Henaghan looked at the agent long and hard until David finally broke eye contact. “Keep your phone charged,” the Aja said. “Stay in regular contact.” She turned to Ferley. “Watch over him. If he doesn’t come back in one piece, I’m gonna hold you partly responsible.”
Ferley nodded. “As unfair as that sounds, I’m willing to go along with it. I’ll watch out for him.”
Quinn stood up and pushed away from the table. “Please, guys, take care of yourself. Now I really need to take a nap.”
Molly brushed past Quinn on Quinn’s way to the master bedroom. Blank went into the kitchen. “If you’re gonna be tramping through the woods, I’m gonna make you a thermos of that coffee.”
Ferley looked touched. “You’re the kindest woman who ever lived,” he said.
Quinn was hijacked as soon as sleep found her. She felt as though she’d been grabbed and thrown into the world of her visions. She smelled familiar air. It was the wind off the African veldt and she had smelled it once before. When Reginald Verbic gave her a glimpse into a forgotten age.
Henaghan now stood on a balcony overlooking the grassy lands far below. The sun was setting behind a single, gnarled tree rising high above the flat terrain around it. A baobab tree. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Quinn turned to her left and there, within touching distance was another woman, a petite, red-headed woman in a long, intricately embroidered dress. It had finally come to pass. Quinn stood in the presence of her mystical forebear. “Aisling.”
Aisling nodded. “Quinn Henaghan. I’ve been listening to your echoes,” she said. “Across time and across c
ircumstance.”
The two women stood on a high balcony above the ancient city of Devālaya. The city the Asura had built and Aisling had taken. Aisling had renamed it Iarmailt which meant “Heaven”. “Home of the gods”. The enormity of the place shocked Quinn. Thousands of tiny structures far below stretched nearly as far as the eye could see. They stopped when they reached a high wall.
“Someday, all of this will be covered by water. After the lands move away from one another. I’ve seen it. The world turns. Time moves on. Until it doesn’t. Come here. I want to show you something.”
Henaghan followed Aisling to the right side of the outdoor space. To her left, she saw the balcony was attached to Aisling’s personal chamber. The furnishings inside were more austere than Quinn had expected. Not the appointments of a princess but rather a simple girl from a simple village far to the north. She joined the original Aja at the rail.
“There’s a courtyard down there. Do you see it?”
Quinn saw it. The area her host referred to was distinct compared to the architecture around it. Broken trees and columns. Flagstones torn up from the ground. The courtyard was the only area that had not been rebuilt like the rest of the city. “I see it,” she said.
“After we took Devālaya, Mhalbog, the deamhan, reappeared. We thought we’d killed him. We hadn’t killed him. After I’d won my greatest victory, I suffered my greatest defeat.”
“There was a fight in that courtyard…”
“Yes. Mhalbog took my love from me. His name was Morfran. We were children together. We grew into lovers. An unstoppable team. But Morfran isn’t dead. Not really. Here, give me your hand.”