Choices

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by Liz Schulte


  I’d warred to forget the sound and timber of her voice. I’d battled to obliterate the memories of the smell of her skin and the taste of her lips. This one word from her and all that I tried to forget flooded back.

  Could Olivia be alive? Was it a fluke, a coincidence? Did I finally reach her on the other side? Had I lost all grip with reality? Instead of going out, I caught a cab home. I walked into my empty apartment and stripped the sheets from my bed before collapsing onto it. I searched my mind for any change, any clue that she was really there, and I wasn’t just losing my sanity.

  Please don’t let this be a hallucination, I begged the universe.

  But I found nothing. There was no sign of her at all. As if she’s dead, you stupid fool. I always knew insanity was possible and frankly it would have been a damn miracle if this didn’t drive me to it, but I wasn’t going to go easy. Maybe it was just my subconscious punishing me for trying to get rid of her completely. Whatever it was though, it didn’t matter because it wasn’t her. It couldn’t possibly have been her.

  I rolled over and looked at the clock, 3:13 a.m. I was bored. I didn’t want to go out, but I didn’t want to stay in. Yet something needed to keep me busy so I wouldn’t obsess—I only had an eternity to fill. I rolled out of bed and hit the sidewalk. Walking around the city at night was one of my favorite things to do. Most of the innocents were off the street, everyone out here was guilt-free game. I strolled down the darkest streets and alleys heading towards an increasingly bad part of the city. A man stepped out from behind a dumpster.

  “Hey, you lost or somethin’?” His arms spread wide to make himself as threatening as possible.

  I popped my neck and rolled my shoulders back, a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.

  “I’m talking to you,” he said, pushing me.

  The mind clearing adrenaline that filled me when my fist connected with a perfect stranger’s face was so good it was almost addictive. I didn’t have to use my fist. I could have had him writhing with pain by a mere touch like Vetis did to Olivia, but this physical smashing and giving felt so much better. I beat the thug bloody, relishing in each punch. It felt so good, it was hard to stop. It quieted the impulse to let loose inside and allowed me the freedom I craved but rarely indulged. I looked at his half-dead, huddled body on the ground. I could finish him so easily. One well-placed blow and it’d be goodbye street living criminal.

  I could walk away. Maybe he’d live. Maybe he’d die. Either way, it would be out of my control. His life would rest solely in the hands of that impossible to predict bitch, Fate. If it were me, would I rather die or take my chances with her? I decided to let her have a go at him. There was no need to kill him, the moment had passed.

  I continued walking until I found myself nearing the strip club where I’d met Danica. Standing across the street I observed the plain, windowless exterior, and the abandoned buildings for sale on either side. The dimly lit sign flashed in a tired pulse and the door looked like it had been spray painted black. So this was the new office, yippee.

  The smell is the first thing I’m going to work on, I thought as I walked into the slowly dying building. The lights were dim, the girls bordered on revolting, and the few slobbering drunks speckled throughout the room didn’t inspire profit. Was I supposed to run this club or did I just work out of it? A waitress with stringy hair, yellow crusted teeth, and saggy breasts came up to me.

  “Table or a room?”

  “Neither,” I brushed passed her heading back to the offices Danica had pointed out, keys in hand.

  “Oh, you must be the new owner,” she said, following me. “I’m Kourtni. If you need anything just let me know.”

  Owner, great. I unlocked the office and flipped the switch. It looked like it had been ransacked. Paper sat in piles everywhere I looked, including the floor. The furniture lay tipped over, draws half open. The trashcan overflowed. Tacky velvet paintings hung askew—even the couch leaned at an unnatural angle. “What the fuck?”

  Kourtni stuck her head into the room. “Yeah, Danica wasn’t too into keeping things straight. She had all of her meetings in the private rooms.”

  “How did she find anything?”

  Kourtni shrugged as if to say “I only work here.”

  “What time is your shift over, Kourtni?”

  “Six.”

  “I’m going to start cleaning up. Come back at 5:30 and get me—I’d like a tour of the rest of the club.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  The door clicked behind her, and I surveyed the room. I had half a notion to get a trash bag and start throwing everything away. Who could work like this? I needed to figure out if Danica kept the club like this to keep it low profile or if she was just a poor manager. I also needed to figure out what in the hell I was supposed to be doing as a regional commander. As a grunt who officially worked under her, I wasn’t exactly privy to the inner workings. As far as I could tell, they did nothing and judging by this office I could see why.

  I sat, legs crossed in the center of the floor, and started four piles of paper: trash, financial documents, club related, and jinn related. The trash pile was the most overwhelming, but after a short excursion I came back with trash bags and began making a real dent in the sty.

  At 5:30 sharp Kourtni swung open the door and stood in the frame with a hand on her hip. “Wow, I don’t think I have ever seen the office this clean.”

  I stood up and looked around the room. There was still a lot to do, but at least most of the floor had been cleared.

  “Where do you want to go?” she asked.

  “Everywhere.”

  “Didn’t you tour this place before you bought it?” I looked at her, but said nothing. “You aren’t much of a talker are you?”

  Top to bottom, rafters to employees, the club was grimy, sticky, cheap, and decaying. I couldn’t imagine staying here another hour, let alone indefinitely. The filth gnawed at me, it all had to go.

  “Who’s in charge of the employees and scheduling?” I asked.

  She looked at me blankly. “The manager,” she said as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

  “And who might that be?”

  “Julie Jones.”

  “And which one is she?” I asked, scanning the employees half-heartedly cleaning the bar with dingy washcloths.

  “She isn’t here.”

  “When will she be in?”

  She shrugged. Kourtni was obviously not the sharpest tack, but I could tell why Danica had her around. She didn’t run off at the mouth which is an invaluable trait. “When’s your next shift?”

  “I come in at ten tonight.”

  “If you see Julie before I do, tell her I’m looking for her. Do you have a piece of paper?”

  She handed me a paper and pen, and I scratched down my cell number. “If I’m not in, have her call me.” I spoke slowly to be sure she understood.

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  “My name is Holden.”

  I headed back into the office and resumed my crusade. Hours rolled by. The desk was inhabitable, the piles were shrinking, and the filing cabinets were in the process of being alphabetized when there was a sharp knock upon my door.

  “Come in,” I said, reading last year’s club tax return.

  “Holden Smith?”

  I looked up to face a demon in a nicely tailored suit with a pretty female jinni at his side. “How may I help you?” I asked, standing.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “I do not.”

  “Do you know what I am?”

  “I do.”

  He nodded. “Good. Call me Malphas.” He handed me a business card with only a phone number printed on it. “You will be reporting to me directly.”

  “Are you responsible for my promotion?”

  His inhuman eyes locked on mine and held on for a bit longer than necessary. “Yes.”

  “May I ask you why?”

  “You have shown the most pr
omise and self-control in the region. I have been watching you for a while. Danica’s enthusiasm is unrivalled, but she doesn’t have a head for business. The losses we suffered with her at the helm have become too great.”

  “What exactly am I supposed to do?”

  “Lead.”

  I began to ask another question, but he cut me off impatiently. “No one cares how you do it, just get results and don’t break the rules.”

  Malphas walked to the door.

  “One more question.”

  Malphas turned back to me clearly annoyed.

  “Is there any reason this club should continue to lose money?”

  “As I said, run your businesses anyway you want. Just get me results.”

  The pretty jinni shut the door behind them, and I sat back in the chair, which would have to be replaced, mulling over options. Diamonds operated in the red for as many years as I had tax returns. I couldn’t tell if Danica had embezzled or if business really was that bad. I cleared the old financial reports from the desk and begin working on my expansion plan.

  I was on the phone with a realtor about the properties on either side of the club when my office door opened. Without looking up, I held up a hand to tell them just a minute and turned my back to finish my conversation. When the details were worked out and the realtor agreed to fax me the paperwork, I swiveled around to face the latest interruption. The sight of the person standing in front of me with her arms crossed over her chest made me freeze for just a moment.

  “Juliet,” I said as coolly as possible.

  “Holden,” she said just as solemnly.

  Five

  Olivia didn’t yet have living accommodations, so I resigned myself to having a roommate. I figured I’d transport the two of us from the outskirts of the woods back to Rome. I’d get her settled in, then we’d have dinner and discuss a training schedule, and I’d introduce her to my fair city. Well, that was my plan anyway.

  But I made another rookie mistake and forgot to explain transporting to Olivia at all. It was difficult process for a fledgling, even worse at great distances. We arrived safely in Rome, but her recovery was slow. Instead of dinner and settling in, I deposited her in the guest room where she fell in and out of consciousness and human form.

  Guardians don’t have a physical body in the same way a human or even a jinni does. We have the appearance of a body. Our bodies feel human to the touch, they appear human in their actions, but are comprised almost entirely of light. We travel by releasing our own light from bonds that hold it in human form and direct our thoughts to where we would like to be. Once at our destination we have to pull ourselves back into the bonds that make us look human again. Not a particularly hard task once you get the hang of it, but also not an easy one, especially if it hasn’t been explained. With rest Olivia would naturally become whole again, so no real harm done, though it could take a week or two.

  One thing was abundantly clear. I needed to find a way to focus around her. Firefly had a way of distracting me without my realizing I was distracted—well, until I did something stupid that made it painfully clear. I sat in her room watching her struggle to become whole. The room filled with her light, then faded, then relight, again and again in a pattern almost like breathing. It was the softest, most pure white light I had ever seen, and it made my skin tingle with static electricity. Most guardians were like me. A bold yellow light akin to sunshine. Hers was nothing like the sun; it was unobtrusive and alluring. I told myself I should use this time to devise a syllabus, but I stayed in the room, leaned back against the wall, and basked in the strange sensations coursing through me.

  “Please…”

  Her voice snapped me back to reality. Her light no longer filled the room. Everything seemed back to normal. She was once again whole. I had fallen asleep, sure, but only a few hours had passed. Impressive. Her sleep wasn’t peaceful; she tossed and turned and whimpered. I moved closer, putting a hand on her arm to calm her.

  “Holden!” She bolted upright and looked around the room frantically, but didn’t seem to see anything.

  “Firefly, you’re okay, it’s safe.” My words didn’t register with her. Her eyes continued darting. Her muscles were flexed and tight. “Olivia. Olivia, look at me. Look into my eyes,” I coaxed. I put my hands on her shoulders and turned her towards me. “Breathe. Just breathe. You’re okay. You’re safe.” Her eyes made their way to mine. It took a few moments, but recognition finally registered in them. The tension dissolved from her, and her eyes filled with tears, but didn’t spill over.

  “Quintus.” Sadness pooled in each syllable as she spoke.

  “Are you okay?”

  She closed her liquid eyes and took a few deep breaths. “I’m fine.” She didn’t look fine. “Just tired.” She pulled away from me.

  “I’ll let you get some rest.” I glanced back once before leaving; she curled herself into a ball. She didn’t look like she’d be resting anytime soon.

  I sighed heavily as I prepared her training schedule. Apparently her change hadn’t eliminated Holden from her mind. Was there anyway the jinni wouldn’t become a problem again? I liked Olivia a lot, but he couldn’t come back into the picture, or I’d have to report it. I didn’t have a choice.

  Olivia came out of the room at sunrise, still wearing the dress I created. I smiled at the sight. She looked more like a statue of Athena than the comfortable young woman I knew before. There was the slightest possibility that my choice in her clothing was more reflective of the way I saw her than practical. It would have to be changed.

  “Would you like something else to wear?”

  Olivia looked down as if she’d completely forgotten what she was wearing and shrugged. “Whatever.”

  I searched my memory for an outfit I had seen her in. When I had a strong mental image, I once again focused my thoughts and touched her shoulder. This time when I stepped back she was the picture of casual. She sported a pair of worn jeans and a men’s styled black button down shirt, just as she had been when I found her in Holden’s apartment. Olivia became very still. I couldn’t quite place the expression on her face.

  “Those are the last thing I could remember you in. I can change it.”

  “It’s—are these— are these the actual clothes I was wearing?” Her voice sounded strained as she lifted the collar to smell. “They’re not the same clothes,” she confirmed, shaking her head, blinking rapidly.

  “We can do something different. Just describe what you want.”

  “This is fine. I was just startled. Maybe you should teach me how to do this.”

  “Light manipulation can be challenging. We’ll get to it, but not for a while.”

  A begrudging smile twitching on her lips. “So there’s an order to how I learn to be a guardian?”

  “Well, no—”

  “I’m incapable of putting on my own clothes at this point?”

  “No, but—”

  “But it’s not first on your schedule.”

  “It’s not the first lesson I had planned to teach you.”

  “Don’t you think it would be beneficial to both of us if I could dress myself?”

  “I didn’t consider it.”

  “You think, maybe, we could bump it up to first priority?” Her small smile held, but her jaw was tight.

  “Yes, of course. The schedule is more to keep me on track than you. You’re perfectly right.”

  “I’m so glad.”

  It was then I realized she was mocking me, or more accurately, my attempt to assign her a routine.

  “Sit down.” I nodded towards a pair of overstuffed wingback chair. She sat in one of them cross-legged and looked at me expectantly. I took my seat in the other one and pointed to her feet. “Socks.”

  She stared at her feet, furrowing her brow, but nothing happened. “Okay, how do I do it?”

  “First, close your eyes. Feel and visualize the light inside of you gathering into a ball. Can you feel it?”

  “I
don’t know, I guess.”

  “Push that ball to your feet, once your feet are shrouded, visualize what you want on them, the more detailed the better.”

  She was still for several moments, but no light formed around her feet, no socks appeared. She opened one eye and peeked at her toes, then squeezed her eyes closed again. I let her carry on until she huffed out a frustrated sigh.

  “What are you doing wrong?”

  “I don’t know. I’m doing everything you said.”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes.” Her eyes narrowed. “What am I not doing?”

  “You haven’t manifested the light.”

  “I’m visualizing it.”

  “But you aren’t feeling it, are you?”

  “Of course not. I don’t believe in this stupid new age crap.”

  I laughed. “This isn’t new age. It’s been around for thousands upon thousands of years. The only way you can manipulate your life force is if you can call on it at will. Try again.”

  “Do you have any idea how stupid that sounds?”

  “Stop thinking like a human.”

  “I’ll get right on that.” She rolled her eyes.

  We spent the rest of the day working on her ability to collect and control her inner light. We had a couple slight glows, but nothing substantial enough to manifest socks from it. Around sunset, she threw her head back against the chair. “I’m done! I give up. I can’t do it.”

  “Yes, you can. You have to get past whatever barrier it is in your mind that’s keeping you from being able to do this.”

  “What makes you think I can do it at all?”

  “First, you’re a guardian and all guardians can manipulate light. Second, you did the very same thing last night, only on a much larger scale, when you pulled yourself back together after transporting—extremely fast too.”

 

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