“They think you’re some street walker, Cxeza!” Jayme whispered between clenched teeth as she escorted the sexy siren into her cubby-hole office, then slammed and locked the door. Jayme rounded her desk and sank in the chair. She was working on five hours of sleep, three of which had been spent tossing and turning on the damned couch. She couldn’t bring herself to sleep in her bedroom again — not so soon. She couldn’t stay in her son’s room, either, for fear she’d become melancholy; and the guest room was stock piled with weapons, which left nowhere to sleep but the damn floor.
“Street walker?” Cxeza tilted her head ever so slightly, confusion swirling in her dark brown eyes.
“Prostitute. Whore. Hooker.”
“Ahhhhh.” She laughed lightly as she ran her finger along the edge of Jayme’s desk before leisurely taking a seat. “Is that bad here?”
Jayme looked at the woman, dumb-founded. She was prepared to answer, but just couldn’t. She didn’t have the energy to explain the sex trade and what it entailed.
“I thought you people didn’t have a sense of humor naturally? You sure do laugh and smile a lot now,” Jayme noted while removing a stack of papers from her desk and flinging them haphazardly on the floor. Her slick ponytail was a bit too tight, but instead of loosening it, she popped an aspirin.
“I like to watch humans. You smile and laugh a lot, so I do, too. I don’t want to be…what do you call it?”
“Obvious?”
“Yes, yes, that’s it…”
Jayme turned on her computer and scanned her emails. A new set of leads had materialized for a case regarding a missing mother and young child that were last seen leaving with an elderly man from the bus terminal. It definitely felt like small, moldy potatoes compared to what she’d currently endured, and the mundanity of this case she found oddly comforting at that moment.
“I came down here, Jayme, to take you to dinner this evening. We’ve not spent much time together. Decisions are being made regarding our time here, and I could be leaving soon. Not to mention, I’ve been feeling poorly lately.”
Jayme’s eyes slowly lifted towards the woman. Her empathy immediately kicked in. She hadn’t even thought about it. Of course, Cxeza would be feeling it all by now. She wasn’t like her brother; she was pure Warrior, not the strange concoction he turned out to be.
“I’m sorry, Cxeza.” Her tone softened. “Is there anything I can do, you know, to help you?” She had decided days ago to be the bigger person, to live by example and show this young lady how to act.
“No.” She shook her head and lowered her gaze. Her long, dark brown hair with a slight wave hung forward, shrouding most of her flawless skin. “Home is the only cure…it’s your air.” She waved her hand towards the ceiling then clasped her fingers together, her lip turned up ever so slightly. “Unless you are a human vacuum, and can remove it, nothing can change my predicament.”
“Well then, the least I can do, I suppose, is have dinner with you. I can’t recall the last time I was at a restaurant.” She stood from her chair and scooted it in. “Do you eat like your brother?”
“What do you mean?” The woman’s eyes squinted.
“Do you only eat vegetables and practically raw meat?”
“Yes, we have a similar diet. Do you know of some place that can cater to me? Otherwise, I can just watch you eat. That would be fine.”
“No, I think I can take you to a steak house that will serve you something very rare and the vegetables are easy.” She reached for her coat then paused to look Cxeza up and down. “I think you better change your clothes, though. You really haven’t been out in public in the early hours, and sister, this get up has got to go!”
The woman looked down at herself, surveying the attire that clung to her body like a second skin.
“But I have nothing else. Everything I brought looks just like this.”
“Hmmm, we are about the same size. Hold on.” Jayme turned her back and reached into a box, pulling out a worn pair of jeans and a white button-down shirt. “The shirt is a little wrinkled. I always keep a casual outfit here, and a jogging suit. This will work for where we are going. It’s nothing fancy.”
She handed the clothes to her sister-in-law and watched her quickly undress. Jayme tried not to stare but found it remarkable that, just like her brother, her body, too, was flawless. The siblings were about the same complexion, and their eyes were spitting images of one another. Of course, Cxeza exuded femininity but seemed rather oblivious to it. She dressed the way she did not to gander attention, but because she found it comfortable; and where she came from, it didn’t cause a batted eye or prolonged stare.
“Okay, fine, right?” The woman did a three-sixty-degree turn.
“Yes, you look good.” Jayme grabbed her keys, opened her office door and exited the area with Cxeza in tow. Men scrambled to crane their necks to get an eyeful, their faces soon falling with disappointment after seeing the change of attire.
“Too damn bad, isn’t it? Ya bunch uh perverts!” Jayme laughed, taunting the guys, causing them to laugh back in response.
“They enjoyed my prior apparel better, I take it?”
“Yes, you get an ‘A’ plus on that one!” Jayme cackled. The duo climbed into her police car and hit the streets. The conversation was stiff, unyielding and awkward. She had no idea what to say to Cxeza. She didn’t seem to understand half of what she tried to tell her, and the other half earned her fragmented, strained responses. But Jayme did have a lot of questions that she felt another woman, despite their differences, may be able to explain to her — to make her understand about her husband and the world he came from.
She tapped her sister-in-law’s hand; a smile budded across her face as she considered the possibilities. Cxeza smiled at Jayme, but Jayme had no idea if it was real or just her trained response to such an act of affection. It felt good to be out, to be in her company, and most of all, it was nice to have someone else to talk to besides the voices in her own head…
****
“I think you’ve had enough wine.” Jayme smirked as she grabbed the bottle of Colterenzo Lagrein red away from the tipsy woman. Cxeza’s eyes hooded.
“Ohhhhh, but it’s soooo good!” she slurred. Her accent reminded Jayme slightly of Spanish, but like Xzion, it was not quite one familiar language or another. Their dialect was definitely unique to a trained ear.
“So, my brother spoke to me about you.”
“What do you mean?” Jayme cut into a braised piece of asparagus as the noises of patrons slicing steaks and speaking meandered all around.
“He wanted to explain to me what you meant to him. I found it odd.” She shrugged. “But I respected his wishes. As I’ve watched you, I can see why he likes you now…loves you, actually.” She nodded in her direction then gently placed the glass to her lips.
“Okay.” Jayme chewed and swallowed. “That’s good to know, I suppose.”
“You’re not like the others.”
Jayme tossed her fork down and clasped her hands together; an attitude had been tapped on the shoulder and told to wake the fuck up. The woman was going there…
“Don’t do that. Let me tell you something.” She pointed her finger across the table. “Most of you Zarkstormians have a superiority complex. You think you’re smarter than we are, better than we are at every damned thing ,and even if that were true, that still doesn’t give any of you the right to come here with a chip on your shoulder. Let’s be real here. You’d be dead if it wasn’t for this so-called inferior human, okay? So you can go on somewhere else with that mess. I’ve heard enough of it.”
The woman’s eye shined; the right one, just like her brother’s. The glimmer grew stronger then dissipated.
“Chip on shoulder. The phrase having a chip on one's shoulder refers to holding a grudge or grievance that readily provokes disputation.”
Jayme rolled her eyes. “You could’ve just asked me. You didn’t have to look it up in your…” she waved her fork
lazily towards the woman’s face, “computerized killing eye.” She took another bite of her steak, taking note of the bloody pool left on her sister-in-law’s plate. The woman had devoured her meal in five minutes flat.
“I do not mean to have a chip on my shoulder, as you say. When I say that you are different, I mean, you do not judge us. I imagine it is difficult for you, having your life turned upside down like this. It can’t be easy to love someone you don’t completely understand.”
Jayme now felt foolish jumping to conclusions. She’d had a knee-jerk reaction after hearing such high and mighty talk from Xzion in the past, as well as many of his constituents over the past couple of weeks, including the woman who sat before her. It stirred her nerves. Comments such as:
She’s kind of smart for an Earthling, said as if it were a compliment, something she should hold near and dear to her warm blooded heart.
She’s faster than a lot of them; boy are they slow. How can they survive this way? She rolled her eyes at that one.
“I apologize. It seems I misunderstood your intent.” She watched the woman down another glass.
“You know alcohol doesn’t affect me, right?”
Jayme’s tense face relaxed and she laughed, tapping the table with her fingertips as she leaned back.
“I completely forgot about that! We have so much to learn about each other.”
“What I know right now is that my brother risked his position, ranking, and status for you. I do not understand love, Jayme. I will not pretend as though I do. It is an odd and unnecessary concept to me. I have no interest in it. I feel two people can be fond of one another and have just as fulfilling a relationship.”
“Well, Cxeza, I’m not surprised by your statements.” Jayme shrugged and cut into another piece of asparagus. “That’s how you and Xzion, and everyone else from there, was raised. You’ve had centuries of that ideology being driven into you. From what Xzion has told me, however, your people weren’t always like that. In fact, they were quite the passionate sort. It seems a bit of a pity to me that such a rich history is looked upon as less than admirable.”
The woman just stared at her, possibly mulling over the information, or possibly dismissing it and thinking of other things altogether. Of that, Jayme wasn’t certain.
“Love is what enables Morphitians to gain access to you…that beast used your love for your grandmother. He accessed photos of her and attempted to duplicate her appearance. He knew you loved her. You see? That made you weak. My educated guess is that you keep a photo of her on display in your home and something close to that display let him know she was deceased.”
Jayme lowered her head and smiled, a sad smile as she drifted in yet another pool of sorrow. “If love makes me weak, then weak is what I am, Cxeza. I am weak for my grandmother, weak for my fellow humans’ well-being and terribly weak for my child and your brother. To me, weakness isn’t equivalent to loving another entity though… Weakness is hiding from love.”
Tension built like a Lego tower and the shit would hurt underfoot, lest someone stumble over their words. Cxeza offered nothing but a death stare.
“Now, regarding the photo…yes.” Jayme put her knife down. “Right next to her framed photo in our living room is a little card with something we call, ‘The Lord’s Prayer’ and on that card I wrote, ‘Rest in Peace.’” Jayme shook her head in disbelief as she looked down into her lap, trying to keep the dark emotions at bay. She felt Cxeza’s eyes on her, sizing her up as though she were a damn spectacle.
“He’d been in your home for quite some time before he made his move…” Cxeza added as she reached over and grabbed the half empty bottle of wine, pouring herself another generous glass. “That’s what they do. They hunt you, watch you, then make their move. They like to bring out emotions in their victims so that when they turn to their true form, the fear is magnified. They like it all. They call it ‘seasoning’, if you will…like salt and pepper.”
Jayme shuddered at the notion. The image of the damned thing still haunted her. She took another bite of her food and decided to lighten the load, relax the flow of the conversation a bit.
“Tell me, what do you think of our son, your nephew?”
“Zachary?” Cxeza leaned back in the booth and crossed her long legs. “I think he is an enchanting, miraculous creature whom I envy.” Her tone was serious and so was her expression.
Jayme was taken aback at the woman’s response, and didn’t care about her child being referred to as a ‘creature’, although to Zarkstormians, being referred to as such was not an insult. Xzion called people that all the time and it was not stated in a negative way.
“Interesting. Why so?’
“Well, for the obvious.” She swished the wine around in the glass. “This tastes absolutely divine.” The woman looked down in the glass, going off track. “Back to the child, though… You see, he is the first of his kind, and well, he was born into my family, so, I cannot help but find him fascinating and noteworthy. Not to mention, he has cured my people, Jayme, just as you stated to me. So many of our enemies were waiting eagerly for us to die off and become extinct, but now, all of that is over…thanks to what you and my brother shared. I suppose in retrospect, I could in fact learn from your relationship, and possibly, from you personally.”
Jayme remained silent as the woman went on.
“All I can say is, though I don’t understand what he feels for you, I respect it and his decision to remain with you to take care of his family. Despite public outcry on my planet right now, I am in full support of us seeing this ’til the end. We owe you people, and it is the least we can do. Besides, I’ve always wanted to vacation on Earth. Burning a deceased Morphitian, a delightful killing spree of Yuledrakes, and seeing my brother in his new environment are just an added bonus.”
Jayme chuckled. She raised her glass in the air for a toast.
“To peace, acceptance, respect and renewed understanding between us, forever more!”
“I’ll drink to that!”
Their glasses clinked together, and despite the previous barriers, a new friendship was born…
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The smell of new money bundled neatly on an antique, alabaster table didn’t sway his mood in a more upbeat direction. Lorenzo hooked his fingers around the dark red, thinly parted curtains, relishing time alone in the wee hours of the dawn. The ladies were piled in the living room, their soft chatter grating him. He turned up his music a bit louder to drown them out. He’d just gotten back in town from New York. He got his affairs in order in record time, and was more than pleased with the progress. Business was now booming while here, in D.C., he began to loath the entire scene. The ice was melting and a row of cars parked across from his home sported pockets of thawing ice from the heated glare of the sun, which generously removed the white pain in the ass that had been hammering down on the city for months.
Things weren’t going as well as he’d anticipated. By now, he should have had the handle on Mr. Xzion Khrome, but nothing could be further from the truth. He’d never had such a hard time tracking down a motherfucka before. He pegged himself as good in these arenas. Now he regretted killing the snitch so soon. The man may have had additional information that could have aided in getting this business wrapped up a bit sooner. Maybe it was some of the shit he saw around the dwelling that caused this craziness. Not the men and the one woman walking about, but the strange shadowy figures he couldn’t quite make out…
This Xzion guy stayed low-key, and he had never managed to see him leave or enter his own dwelling. Did he actually live there? He had to have…all his research pointed to that one house. He sighed and turned away from the window, then sat down before the table, which he’d covered in his favorite ‘Benjamin’ green topping. He re-counted the money, divided it up just right, then leaned back on the couch and ran his hand lazily over his bare chest. His fingers caught hold to the thick, platinum chain that dangled and sparkled around his neck. After some bri
ef moments of thinking, he came back strong, grabbed his keys and stood at attention as if someone important had called his name…
“Time to take a little ride…time for an investigation.”
****
The odor of roaming cigarette smoke floated past his borrowed nostrils just long enough to begin a new coughing spell. Vex’s chest caved with pain. He itched to get out of the damn humanoid flesh, but amongst these creatures, that was an impossibility. He stood under the green awning of the bus stop, protected from the damp cold of the Baltimore winter. He was hungry, but all he could taste was revenge and he hoped he’d be feeding soon. The previous night, when he was alerted of what had transpired, he took refuge inside a welcoming gutter tunnel filled with tiny meals, better known as sewer rats with their thickly wound, delicious tough tails and packed, stiff fur. As he lay there resting, Nij arrived with a handful of grief and cast it in his face. He wailed long and hard; the damn tunnel filled with his voice and echoed so. He couldn’t control himself. How could it be?!
And that wasn’t the worse of it. When he’d contacted Jatorn and let the bastard know of the turn of events, as well as his desire to pursue the whore responsible for his man’s death, he laughed and appeared completely uninterested in such ideas. After the call, Vex sat back for a measure or two in tormented confusion, then it all made sense. His suspicious were correct. He’d been sold out. Never in his wildest dreams did he’d think Jatorn would want the boy to the point that he’d forsake all others, turn his back and walk away as if the war were not still alive and very much real. The Yuledrakes perished, and the Morphitians now too, while the big and bad leader didn’t care. Bosi was supposedly around somewhere, but no one had spotted the hairy beast, nor did he come out to assist.
Regardless of this unpleasant turn of events, it couldn’t end this way. He tried to speak to Jatorn one last time, to see if he could coax the man into taking Earth by the balls and claiming it for his own, but it was much too late. Their palaces were already filled with diamonds, and now, Jatorn was focused on one thing and one thing only: the boy. That was all he’d asked Vex about since hearing of the little mutant’s existence.
The Tale of the Blood Diamond Page 27