Victor
Ocean spent the next two days learning what he could about the police and the law of this city. Between us, we knew next to nothing. This was my third time crossing over, and I never needed to know. Now, I believed I did. I had no idea if the two men would be held in jail or if they could return to the young woman's house soon.
Before I went to sleep the night before, I had the idea that perhaps the attack on my father wasn't 'random' or based on some archaic belief system. Perhaps my father had done business over here, and that business went bad.
This idea didn't bloom from nothing â in the past my father had regular dealings with these people. He also preferred New Orleans. He told me that this city required allowance to be herself. Once you could do that, she would treat you fair, and might even smile.
I was following the young woman, Alicja. Back as I was from the road, I watched as she left her aunt's house and began her trip home. This was the end of their death ritual, from what I could gather. The wake, the burial, the gathering after the burial, and now â home.
She wore silk scarves in her hair. They were colorful, even in the new darkness. Thin silver bracelets chimed softly at her wrists.
The wake was yesterday. She danced with her cousins. Got drunk. She joined in the telling of silly grandmother stories, which I couldn't help but get caught up in. They told of a rich and wonderful life, even though their outward aim was to be a bit of a roast for the old woman. Then Alicja passed out on the couch.
I spent these days watching someone who didn't need me watching.
It was early evening, the sun freshly faded and the stars popping into existence through the city-light haze above. Alicja walked without idleness but not in any hurry. She had a sense of purpose. It was a walk that didn't attract the eye of predators.
Ocean described her as capable. Which didn't sound flattering, but it was fairly high praise coming from him.
I must have been too far into my own thoughts, because I closed the distance between us, and once I was close enough, the electric sensation I felt before in the bar, hummed through my teeth.
I stopped and faded into the shadows just as she turned to look around. She searched in all directions. As I feared she felt it too.
Ocean had pressed me a couple of times as to why I was looking out for her. The men who attacked her remained in jail waiting for their hearing. He explained, twice, that she was only a target because of us, and so it followed that being close would only put her in the same target zone, again. I feigned as best I could.
I didn't want to be marked... and I was. That was the undertone of everything now. The foundation of my thoughts.
She didn't turn on luck or whim. She turned because she felt it as well. The mark hadn't appeared on me, yet. But it had begun. I didn't have answers for anything else. I didn't know what happened if I came closer, or if I abandoned the mark, or if I killed her. I had no answers, only the strong wish for it: to not be happening.
It wasn't the interruption to my personal mission which bothered me about the mark, the bonding. I never liked the idea, since I was a child and first heard of this thing. This curse.
"It's you, isn't it," she said. Her voice was calm, and not really directed at anyone. "You can hear me."
She was near a street corner, in a residential area. No one was out besides myself. Not close anyway. There was a tone in her voice, which tugged at me, and I felt cowardly not answering.
I stepped out and walked toward her. The electric hum in my teeth was steady but didn't increase as I closed the distance.
She watched me. Eyes calm, but curious. "You're the one who sent Ocean to walk me home."
It wasn't a question, but I nodded agreement anyway.
"Why didn't you send him tonight?" she asked.
I stopped, close enough but not inside personal space. "It, felt personal."
She touched her jaw, "It stopped."
I noticed it was gone as well.
"What does that mean?" she asked and lifted her left wrist. There was a light mark there, as I knew there would be a matching mark on mine as well.
I didn't answer, because I didn't know what it meant, but the conclusion was obvious enough.
She looked me over, her eyes still curious. There seemed to be no bottom for her curiosity. "You're not what I was expecting."
"No?" I asked, not knowing what else to say. I was marked. There was no hiding from that now, and I wasn't sure â how I was now â but something had changed. "Not to your liking?"
"I didn't say that," she said, "but you're not from around here. In fact, I'm having trouble placing you."
She stepped closer, her eyes looking at everything â from what I was wearing to how I was wearing it. "You're rich, but that's not exactly new. Around here it is, but then, you're not from around here. Your hair isn't one of your daily concerns, but not unkempt either.
Through the shock fog of what had just happened I felt an emotion stirring. Anger.
"You like fighting," she said, looking at my hands. "Do you have a temper?"
A temper? Was that a disease? "Some times."
"More often than you trim your hair I suspect. Do you drink?" she asked.
"Yes," I said, hoping that would be unappealing.
"Good, then come to my house and let's have a drink," she said.
"Just like...?" I started, but caught the sound of footsteps coming up behind me â fast. More than one. Three men.
Sprinting forward, and scooping Alicja up in my arms, I ran for the corner. She didn't scream or yelp. She grabbed me around the neck and clamored up to look over my shoulder.
"There's three of them," she said.
"I know."
"Do you know they're pulling out guns?" she asked.
"Didn't know that part, no," I admitted, and turned right, sprinted down the side of a house, jumped the side fence into the back yard, then hurtled over the back fence into the wide alley, turning right, and running back the way we had come.
"You know that's not normal, right?" she asked, leaning over to look me in the eyes.
"I'm aware," I admitted. "You're not exactly normal yourself. Shouldn't you be screaming?"
"No, I don't think that would help at all," she said. "There's one back there, just came into the alley. How much trouble are you in?"
"The normal amount," I said, and turned left, leaping over another fence and ran through the yard to the next street over. "Taking you home isn't going to work out. Sorry about this."
"Do you have another place to go?" she asked.
"You mean like a hide out?" I asked, meant as mirth.
"Do you really have a hideout?" she asked, just a bare hint of excitement in her voice, causing me pause.
"I have a place. And yes, that would be best I believe. Drinks at my place then?" I asked.
It took a moment, but then she said, "Alright."
The closest cab would likely be in Marigny, so I ran us in that direction, changing streets and alley-ways as I went to keep them from following. When I spotted a cab trolling for fares I hailed her down.
"Where you going?" the driver asked, as she looked us over.
I gave her the address and saw it affected her mood.
"Yeah, alright," she said, and started down the street.
"Is Ocean going to be there?" Alicja asked.
"Likely. Is that an issue?"
"No, just wondering. I never got a chance to thank him, and didn't know how to get in touch," she said, looking out the side window. "Can you talk about it?"
"I can," I said. "Can I have half-hour so we are in a more private setting?"
She turned, considered the situation, and me, "Sounds fair enough."
"It's nothing â it's nothing with the law or drugs or anything of that nature," I assured her.
She thought that over, "Is that supposed to ease my mind? Because what's left, isn't all that nice."
"Twenty minutes then," I said.