Ch. 25: Jack's Tour
September 7 | Day
I fell asleep beside Mal. Late in the night, the bed depressed and groaned from the weight of Sunny's body depositing next to us. He laid a hesitant hand upon my hip to see if I was awake. I didn't stir. I stayed with the rhythmic breathing of sleep, eyes closed, and sank deeper into comfort with the minute relaxation of his fingertips. When his arm wove around me and rested completely, I drifted back to dreamland.
A way had been made. Knowledge that the three of us were important details in a broader design had sprung from Sunny's magnificent brain. Suddenly, the Oracle's prophecy made sense. Haley's message to find the right allies and defeat my enemy hadn't applied to Zyr Ravani. Sunny, Mal, and I were supposed to unite to take down Cyprian, a far worse hazard than a poorly trained detective. The vampire was a threat against humanity.
To defang him, we needed to further get to know and trust each other. I needed to learn what my Supernatural friends were. I kept this in mind the next morning at breakfast. Wind rifled my hair from the open bay windows, and the hushed lapping of waves against the hull of the houseboat reminded us we were in uncharted waters. I tapped a flute of champagne and orange juice to Mal's. Sunny's glass made it a trio.
"Bé salamati!" The lawyer uttered a Farsi toast.
"Ba-salama-tee!" We parroted her.
Smiling, I leaned against the cushioned bench of the breakfast nook. "So now that breaking my spirit is off the table, we have a lot of free time on our hands," I stated.
"What do you want to do with it?" Sunny asked warily.
A lusty glint in his eyes confessed he was thinking, I was thinking something decidedly more gratifying than what I actually had in mind. I laughed in amusement. After the night's hijinks, he couldn't stop picturing us in bed together? The feeling was mutual. Delicious memories of being inside Mal's body made me squirm, clearing my throat.
"What's stopping us from walking right off the Lina?" I asked.
"Uh, being surrounded by water?"
"I meant let's ditch this rig. From what I hear about Overlay City, I've barely tipped the paranormal iceberg. You're telling me the place exists, hidden in plain sight, over New Orleans? I want to see."
Mal considered it. "Darcy probably thinks we're halfway to your capitulation. He was counting on Sunny's martial arts prowess to prod you to madness. He wouldn't risk showing up and interrupting the process. I say we're safe to fly the coup. What do you think, Sunny?"
"I'm in the same boat as Jack–literally and figuratively. Since I made it here a month ago, I haven't had time to explore. If you think we can sneak out and get back before Darcy realizes we're gone, let's go for it."
"There's tons to show you guys," she exclaimed. "I can take you to the art gallery where Ava has her work."
"Wait, Darcy allows her to show her work?" Sunny asked in surprise. I quirked an eyebrow at the question but then thought about how the vampire operated. Cyprian kept those closest to him on the shortest leash. The billionaire couldn't afford anyone escaping his control.
"How else would we explain our extravagance to the rest of the world? Law is my cover, and art is Ava's, aside from what she does as my paralegal. Darcy doesn't want people to guess at how we live like queens in this economy."
"He's a bona fide mob boss." I chuckled uncomfortably.
"When you combine that with his Supernatural abilities, you understand why nobody fucks with him. Look, I'm not gonna lie to you." She tossed her hair and got serious. "We're in dangerous territory going up against him. However, I firmly believe that if anyone can stop him, it's the three of us."
"It might behoove us to get Jack familiar with Overlay City," Sunny replied. "The more he integrates into the Supernatural community, the likelier our success. Anything can happen to either of us. "
"Planning on going somewhere?" I joked. Neither would exit the mission voluntarily. I didn't want to think about being pulled apart by circumstances beyond our control. Fate wouldn't torment us with a taste of completion just to snatch it back, would it?
Sunny dropped his head, bobbing it up and down. "Darcy can't be the only one with a Plan B. You need to connect with as many allies as you can attract."
"Alright, we go to the city and let intuition guide us on where to network. We don't mention anything related to the vampire. We see where we vibe and who might be counted on later if needed," I decided.
The same tugboat that had ferried us to the Lina was contacted to pick us up. Mal handed the captain a persuasively thick bribe, and we strapped in for a jaunt to the pier where a rideshare waited. I didn't know what to expect of Overlay City. Remaining in close quarters with my companions had given a sample of how it felt to be with Supers, the low internal hum of awareness of their non-humanity. Yet, I had nothing to reference how beings like us lived and functioned on divergent planes of reality. How did one reconcile the contraries?
As I stepped from the car, I got the sense of having done this before. It was a repeat of the drunken night I had told the bartender and his writer friend about Mr. Cyprian. The night they said I had made a deal with the devil. Strange how close they'd been to the truth. But as Mal rose from the backseat and Sunny skirted the rear of the vehicle to take his place on her opposite side from me, I didn't feel like I was confronting the fires of hell alone.
The atmosphere pulsed with people, sights and sounds. Afternoon sunlight glazed the midsize buildings. Venue signs screamed to be read. Glancing left to right, I took off in the direction of a shop I didn't recognize.
Must have been constructed during my time in the pen, I theorized logically. Maybe I hadn't paid attention to it after my release.
Only, the settled quality of its bricks and the weathered lettering of the shop name, Numinosity, suggested it had been there longer. I would've seen it before had it been visible. "This has to be part of Overlay," I surmised when we stopped at its doors.
Pedestrians thoughtlessly filed around us. They didn't notice us obstructing the sidewalk. Was that how it worked? When a person didn't know what to observe, they couldn't see it?
Inside the store, the light of day became the dimness of a treasure hunt. I passed nooks of exotic incense. Bundles of juniper, white sage, and other aromatic grasses filled a basket with a pricetag affixed. There were chunky rock centerpieces and hand-crafted jewelry made of stones and gold wire. Mystery boxes hinted at their contents with labels like "Scrying Hodgepodge" and "Tantric Toy Box." I hurried to a glass case of daggers.
"Jack, I'm glad you chose this spot. You just gave me an idea." Mal searched the nearest shelves with keen eyes.
Sunny paused at my elbow. "Look at this. They sell books on the profane and sacred. At a regular establishment, I'd question the value, but Supernatural writers apparently know their stuff."
"Mm-hm. What do you think she's looking for?" I pointed at Mal with my chin.
Sunny followed her with his eyes. She rushed to another aisle and scanned the assortment. When she didn't find it there, she made her way to a wall where shards of gemstones and crystals filled cubbyholes. Still no luck, she approached the store attendants chatting behind the register.
"Excuse me. I'm looking for a protective amulet."
"Ooh, we sold our last talisman about three weeks ago," a person of indeterminate sex apologized. "The buyer came in with a mermaid and a dragonshifter if I remember correctly." Their coworkers nodded in agreement.
"They told you their types?" Mal raised her eyebrows.
"No, sorry. Futanari-Fae hybrid." The shopkeeper hiked a black-laquered thumb at themself. Mal took in the crescent of earrings tracing their earlobe, the inquisitive brown eyes, and their aura of dark magnetism. The nametag said Tyler. "I can discern any Super that comes in here...except you, actually."
Mal smiled. "Let's keep it that way. When will you have what I need in stock?" They checked the calendar and told her. She came back to us, peering at her watch. "They don't have it. We've got fifteen minutes until the gallery closes for lunch. Ready to jet?"
"Before we do, what is this place? I want to remember to come back when we have more time."
"Numinosity. It's a metaphysical shop." She flourished a hand at the shelving behind the register. There were jars of ingredients I couldn't imagine a use for, articles like lightning-struck live oak. "Usually, you find things to enhance your innate talents here. Humans think its nonsense, or–worse–they imbue these products with spiritual pitch and woo, but everything here does more than meets the eye."
"I'm intrigued. Is it okay if I meet you outside? I want to do one last pass."
"Are you sure?" asked Sunny.
"We'll be at the park bench." Mal pulled his sleeve.
I waited for them to leave and returned to a piece that had caught my attention upon entering. "Billao," I read the name of the short-sword. It had a hilt twined with sturdy leather and a double-edged, leaf-shaped blade. The shopkeeper recognized a buyer when they saw one.
"Want me to take it out for you?" Tyler asked.
"Absolutely." Once done, I stretched the beautiful blade ahead of me with two hands. I tested the heft, caught it, turned it over, nodded. I didn't have to ask the price, perks of being a billionaire's henchman. "I'll take it. Now what do you have that might tickle the fancy of a sophisticated woman like the one who just walked out of here?"
Grinning, Tyler beckoned me to a velvet ringcase. After I made my selection, the attendant rung me up. I handed my card. "You mind holding onto these items until I call and tell you where to send them?"
"I'll put them up and let the manager know," they replied. "Hey, I'm not sure if you'd be interested, but I get the strongest sense I should do an osteomancy reading for you. Got a minute?"
I glanced at the exit. Sunny and Mal were waiting, but I was fascinated by every aspect of Overlay, including stores like this. With a half-shrug, I asked, "What's osteomancy? Does it take long?"
I followed them to a part of the shop that wasn't accessible from the main floor. Through a door to a quiet room where a patchwork tablecloth covered a round table. Posters and brightly printed tapestries showed scenes like a snake crawling through an empty skull. I saw the mythic Tree of Life, two naked lovers conjoined amidst a vibrant blue flame.
"Osteomancy is divination using bones and other special objects. It shouldn't take but a second–Spirit is shrieking to talk to you–so the message should come through immediately." Tyler gestured at the seat opposing theirs, and I sat.
I bit back a laugh that the spiritual pitch and woo existed on this side of normality, too. Pausing the osteomancer before they started the reading, I fired off a text to let Sunny and Mal know I'd link up with them at the gallery. I wanted to see this.
"Now," I sighed as I locked my phone screen.
Tyler smiled and popped their knuckles, pinning me with a stare. "You're gonna have to ask a question."
"You said 'Spirit' already had a message for me."
"The channeler can't initiate contact. There has to be an energetic exchange. Ask whatever comes to mind."
I knew there was no point asking about Sunny and Mal's types. Instead, I thought it over and blurted, "Am I on the right track?"
Nodding, the Supernatural shopkeeper brought out a wooden box, shook it, and poured whatever had rattled around inside onto the surface between us. Out spilled bits of bones, rocks, an assortment of odds and ends. Some things fell close to me. Some clustered. Some were upside down while others right-side up. Tyler used a thin metal instrument to pick through what looked to me like trash, but something the osteomancer saw made them nod their head more vigorously.
"I'm surprised you even have to ask. The river pebble, clam shell, and the pearl fell out in perfect alignment. From sandy impediment to pearly wisdom, the clam shell of life irritates us into creating our own comfort. That shows you're attuned to the rhythm of the cycle of life you're in at this point.
"But you see that cerulean Evil Eye? Its pupil is wide open, staring directly at you, and its the item nearest to you. That signifies someone in your inner circle doesn't have the best intentions for you." Tyler tisked in disapproval.
Darcy Cyprian, I named the traitor. The man had never had anyone's best interests in mind but his own. I hadn't been entirely blinded from the start, but I felt like I should've known better than to get involved with him.
"Ooh!" Tyler switched gears. "Now, look at the cute little plastic Mardi Gras baby that represents fertility. I don't know whether you and your lovers–lovers, right? If you guys are trying for a baby, but this is a sign you'll give birth to something soon."
I blew out a breath. "No babies."
Tyler met my gaze and laughed. "Give birth to whatever you want. A vignette of happiness, happily ever after, happy for now. Reproduction is joy at its finest.
"Notice the apple seed has fallen directly into this key ring over here?" They pointed. "Something tells me to think of the energetic signature of this seed. Pits, kernels, and seeds like this one often contain toxins as insecticides to protect these little embryos from being eaten before maturity. In large enough quantities, these chemicals can kill a person."
My phone buzzed, and I dug it out. Mal had sent over the address to their location. I returned the phone to my pocket at Tyler's look of censure. "But what does that mean?" I asked about the poison.
"How do I put this?" Tyler placed a finger to their nose and eyeballed the ceiling before meeting my gaze. "Let's say whatever you're about to go through, now that you're in alignment with your destiny, will provide you with sustenance but not until you deal with the burden of labor. You have to get through the cyanide to get to the forbidden fruit."
I shook my head. "Will I succeed or not?"
"Sorry, that's all I'm getting." Tyler shrugged unhelpfully.
I laughed under my breath. "So, either way, my life is destined to suck for a while. Because even if I'm past the proverbial cyanide, there's still the clearing of land, the tilling of soil, and the wait for the harvest for this–'forbidden fruit,' you called it?"
The shopkeeper tilted their head at me. "The universe puts its juiciest secrets in the center of its most ardent struggles. It's forbidden until you allow yourself to remember your sovereignty. Without the taboo, there would be no ripening. No reason to persist in the climb to enlightenment."
"Okay, got it." I snorted. "'Embrace the suffering,' is your philosophy."
"Yes," they said, as if it were the simplest and most matter-of-fact solution in the world.
I added sardonically, "What doesn't kill me makes me stronger."
"Correct."
"What if it kills me?" I grinned.
I quit the shop and took off through the changing rays of daylight in search of Soleil Art Studio. I found it on the corner of two popular New Orleans thoroughfares. Through the glass, I saw Mal luring me in with her arms.
"Get in here," she said when I stepped through the door. "I want you to see this. Ava kept it a secret from me. I'm gonna kill her." Her lilting gigles defied her words. She was pleased with whatever it was she wanted to show me.
Sunny peered raptly at an oversized canvas that caught my eye because he was staring at it. "Oh my god," I breathed, moving to his side. My eyes took in the marriage of creativity and diligence that gave art that ephemeral quality elevating it above the banal. My lips parted in wonder. Ava had recreated the three of us.