Victor
I grabbed the man they called Ben, by the back of his neck too hard. He passed out.
The two women didn't see me — I believed. The younger woman had defensively turned her head to avoid the blow, while shielding the older woman — That was kinda brave, really. The older one's view was blocked by the younger one stepping in front of her.
I hadn't planned it that way, but I would accept the win, with grace.
I dropped Ben on the roof of the two story building across the street, and alighted next to him.
"Well done Victor," Ocean said, stepping out of the shadows to be seen. "What are you planning to do to him?"
I sucked in a fast breath through my teeth, and folded my wings away. My tail slithered back into my spine. "Not sure. Might just leave him here. Hungry?"
"I could eat," Ocean said.
Ocean was one of those beings who was so good looking, that when people passed him on the street, they looked around as if searching for the punch line — or perhaps a hidden camera. He was simply unreal. Surreal. His blond hair was honestly the color and texture of white corn-silk. You could cut silk on the edge of his cheek bones, and his teeth made you wonder if someone was directing light on them all the time. His deep blue eyes were large, round and expressive. The kind of eyes poets fall into and suffocate.
It was annoying, to tell the truth. If it wasn't for our decades of friendship, I couldn't stand to be around him.
"But," he said, "you're not serious, are you?"
"About what?"
"Just leaving him here?" Ocean said, turning a bit and putting his hands behind his head. "That's so ... lazy. I mean, why bother being a vigilante if you're going to do a half-assed job?"
"Huh," I grunted. "I thought I was known for doing a half-assed job."
Ocean cocked his head in thought, and then shrugged. "It's not something you're supposed to be proud of."
"Yeah, well, I'm not supposed to be kind either, and we can see how that turned out. By the way, why are you here?"
"Why do you ask questions you already know the answers for?" Ocean asked, lowering his arms. "I'm here to bring you back of course."
"They can do without me a while longer. There's a Regent in place," I said, though I had no intention of returning.
Ocean laid back into the air. With him now floating as if on a recliner, he placed his hands behind his head again. "What if I told you that I was the Regent?"
I was looking down at the human, Ben, and froze. My mind dims to blank. "Why? Do you think you might say something like that, soon?"
The human began waking up. His hand began twitching first, and then his eyes behind his lids began moving.
Ocean closed his eyes, "Like you said, it's only temporary."
The human's eyes fluttered open, and I kicked him on the side of his head. He went under again. "How did they talk you into that?" I asked, turning to face him.
"Talk me into...?" He laughed. "They paid me. That's all it took."
Now it was my turn to laugh, "They might have put you in that position to spite me and shame me back to the throne. But they wouldn't pay you to do that to them."
Ocean frowned, "That was a bit too much, yes."
"Yes," I agreed. "Be better. I depend on you."
I looked down at the human again. Screw it. Leaving him here was enough. Besides, it would draw more attention. There was no way he was climbing down off this building. It was too high to jump down. He would have to scream for help. Might even make the news.
I expressed this to Ocean who alighted back on the roof, "Well, if it's attention you want, take his clothing. That'll get everyone talking. However, are you sure that's what you want? Hunters are sure to be sniffing around soon if you keep on like this."
"Hope so," I said, leaning down and pulling my claw through the fabric of his shirt, jacket, and then denim pants. "I've been at this for almost two weeks now. Not a sign of them. Not one."
It didn't take Ocean long. "You're looking for your father's killer."
"Of course," I said. "What else would I be doing here? All that other stuff is just smoke. I need them. All of them. Until I find the hunters who set it up, and figure out how they did it."
"I've heard this theory of yours before," Ocean said. "There's no evidence that humans were able to contact, and then compel someone on the other side to kill your father. That's a massive stretch of ifs-thens-and-so's."
"What if they paid you?" I asked.
"Me?"
"You know what I mean. There are many who weren't fans of my father," I said. "He was a good king, but good kings piss people off too."
He glanced at me, not sure if he was hurt or not. "Well, they would have to make it a value. What would they pay? Their money and gold is worthless. There are a few precious elements that might be worth wild, but nothing that wouldn't attract attention on the other side. You couldn't use them. Not for ages. Memories like yours are long."
He had a point. Hell, that was seven or eight points I had no reply for.
I sighed, and ripped the rest of Ben's clothing from him. It was a good idea leaving him to be a spectacle. Then I straightened up, and looked around. "Breakfast?"
"Gin?" Ocean asked.
"Whiskey would be good," I suggested. "Drink what you want. It's a free country." Then I gave him a smile.
Ocean frowned, and turned to the back side of the building, "Why does everyone smile after they say that?"
"Don't know," I admitted. "Not my country. But, when in Rome, as they say..."
"Right," he mumbled, and jumped off the edge landing on the ground with almost no sound.
I followed. Ben had enough. The punishment fits the crime. After landing beside Ocean, we started up the street to a tavern that was playing red hot blues.
A few people were outside the place, smoking weed, and talking in voices filled with mirth. We walked in, and melded into the crowd, becoming part of the decor. Unnoticed. Unseen. Mana folding around us, putting us in shadows.
Ocean caught a waitress by the elbow, who turned with a curse on her lips and a balled fist, until she locked eyes on him. After that she was much nicer, and even a bit of a fawner. He had that affect on the opposite sex. Sometimes on men too. It was in his blood, this level of attraction.
Ocean was a cambion. A cambion was the offspring of a demon and a human. In this case, his mother was a Succubus, which wasn't much of a demon, but it counted. All I knew about his father was that he was human. I don't think the man ever learned about his child.
Ocean was raised on the Otherside. He didn't come across here, willingly. He disliked this world, and its people. So there must be some serious pressure being thrown at him to come all the way here, to talk me out of something he knows he can't.
I didn't understand the pressure to bring me back. It was within my right to investigate this. Yes, I could have others do it for me, and perhaps it would be done faster, and better than I am capable. This wasn't a main skill of mine. But I believed people were basically people, no matter which side they were on. They were basically the same. So, how hard could it be to find a few human assholes? Hell, back home I was tripping over them.
The waitress returned with our order. While she was gone, Ocean had 'broken' his nose and adjusted his left eye to be slightly lower than his right. He was still attractive but not enough for the waitress to melt and stick around for. Which was a problem when going out among humans with him. She barely noticed I existed.
"See dat? At the end of the bar? Ismael?" I said, motioning my chin toward where Ismael hunched over a mug of ale. "Must have come straight here after maw maw chased him off."
Ismael stood about as tall as me, putting him at six-two. He had the thin, inured leather appearance common with those who worked the shrimp boats. Hard work and a diet of fish narrowed the body down like that. Made them strong too. It was a mistake to think these shrimp fishers weren't tough. Tough as horse shoe nails.
I pulled a stool over to our table and sat down. Ocean remained standing, sipping his gin, listening to the crowd. The bar wasn't well lit, which allowed us to weave the shadows to fade from view. Becoming shapes, rather than people. Background.
"I don't hear anything about a hex or a monster," Ocean commented after fifteen minutes.
"Me either," I agreed. "Guess he didn't want to tell the story."
"He did get chased off by an old woman," Ocean pointed out.
I shrugged. "Nothing about his friend either."
"Friend? Ben? What makes you believe they're friends? He showed concern, but people do that."
Ocean, again, had the way of it. I did put too much on the relationship — more than the information we had could justify. They could just know each other from a bar like this — or this bar.
I finished my whiskey, crunched one of the ice cubes in my teeth, and was about to suggest we move on, when I felt a buzzing — a thrumming — like lightning shot through my teeth. My wrist itched.
Then she walked in the front door of the bar.
"Did you feel that?" Ocean asked.
Shit.
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