September 6 | Night
I placed hygiene products, socks, fresh underwear, a change of clothes, and non-perishable food in the corrugated box. My hands shook as I went through the motions, the same way I did every month. This time, however, more than just me would show up at the squatted apartment where Torres stayed.
From the table behind me, Abuela Maya passed me her favorite rosary. "For Torres," she said as she met my gaze. Smiling, she went back to bundling herbs. "They won't judge you, you know."
I whiffled a breath and made an about-face with the care package in hand. "Nixie and Legend have seen me as an academic and as an agent." Toothpaste, deodorant, a gift card for a local eatery. What else did my brother need? I frowned into the box as Abuela rose from her chair with a grunt.
"Yes, and there's more to you than impossibly high standards. Love is vulnerable," she said.
"Having a difficult past is one thing, Abuela, but having a difficult present is another. I don't know why I agreed to a relationship. I have too much emotional baggage, and I can't expect them to take on my problems," I said as I headed to the car.
"Give them a little credit." She shuffled alongside me.
"You're not supposed to know we're together, by the way." I smiled wryly. We hadn't even shared a room yet, much less broadcast our change in relationship status with public displays of affection. Abuela had a nosey streak.
Outside, it was muggy, and the neighborhood beyond my front door smelled of freshly cut grass and late summer flowers. I used my remote key fob to pop the trunk and bumped it open with my hip, depositing the box inside with a heavy sigh.
As I faced Abuela, I knew she could tell that I agonized over the difficult task ahead. I would have to put my shamanic abilities to the test and walk with Delilah into a near-death experience. I didn't need to be distracted by worrying what Legend or Nixie would think about the struggles of my family.
"What if it's too much for them?" I voiced my doubts.
"Oh, they're not the problem, mi corazon. You're the one who needs to practice radical self-acceptance. You can't change who you are or what you come from, and no one should expect you to, least of all yourself."
Radical self-acceptance, I replayed her advice as night fell and the younger members of our team embarked on the latest phase of our quest. Leaving my grandmother behind, e took a rental SUV to the rough side of town where Torres had made his home.
The ground floor apartment was dark and empty, save for a few people sitting against the wall, staring blankly. They had all clearly been using drugs, and their eyes were glazed over. In the middle of the room, a well-dressed young woman slumped in a daze, her head lolling as she tried to look around. Clothes were strewn everywhere, along with various objects that were probably for sale or trade. There was no furniture in the place, and the only light came from the open door, which let in a cool breeze. The air was thick with the smell of body odor and rotting food.
Delilah sauntered through the squalid apartment, stepping over people with her black leather boots. Her eyes swept faces, in search of someone in enough of a liminal space to begin what we had to do. The resuscitation device in my fist did little to make me feel better. "I'll check the bedrooms," the vampire murmured. I nodded anxiously.
Rooted to the filthy carpet of the living room, Nixie scanned her surroundings. I was positive she had never seen anything like this place. She didn't know what to do with her hands, first stuffing them into her pockets and then clasping them in front of her. She shouldered a backpack with The Book of Tides in it. Legend seemed less perturbed. He greeted everyone and then stared at the wall. Fitz had remained outside to keep an eye out for trouble.
Looking around, I clutched my chest against the vise grip of despair. What could I do? Nothing. I felt like I had stumbled upon something I shouldn't see. I wanted to drag my brother from the room and throw him into the car, drive him far away from his demons, baptize him in love, and clothe him in healing. But we had already run that script a thousand times, and he always came back.
I wanted to be able to control what happened, give him a peaceful trip instead of a chaotic one. But I couldn't do that, either.
Torres was already high. As I quietly told him why we were there, his eyes glittered bright and shifty, unable to fix on any part of the room for too long. He sat on the kitchen counter and talked to himself between trying to hold a conversation with me. "Hey, guess what, I have a job interview on Monday," he snickered. He had other hopeful news, but I knew it didn't mean much. Half of it was shame talking.
"That's great, buddy. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help you get ready for it," I replied. "We'll be out of here before you know it. Thanks for letting me and my friends stop by."
"No problem," he muttered, his facial expression not matching the topic at hand. I could tell he was reacting to something in his thoughts. He was trying so desperately hard to seem like he wasn't lifted, but the corner of his mouth twitched as he fidgeted with things around him. He alternated between jerky, swift movements and overly slow rocking back and forth.
I felt extreme embarrassment. It flushed me like a heatwave that left me sweaty and hyperventilating. That other people I cared about were witnessing my brother this way made me feel like I was a failure as a family member and that I should have been able to do more to help him. My feelings came out in sarcasm as I dumped the care package on the cracked vinyl countertop in the dirty kitchen.
"See, Legend? We're nothing but misfits here," I laughed without amusement.
The minute the items left the box, the roomful of addicts swarmed Torres's things and took what they wanted. I swore under my breath as I looked at my brother apologetically. I was afraid to give him money. I cared about him too much to watch him slowly kill himself with every dime.
"I'll bring more," I said.
Legend startled me by gripping my hand from behind. I relaxed into his touch and met his gaze, and he seemed to understand every emotion I couldn't express. I didn't see the pity in his eyes that I had expected. Nor was it in Nixie's eyes as she sidled closer and wrapped an arm around my waist. I wanted to appear to be the strong one, but they were the ones who were supporting me, and I appreciated it more than they knew.
Delilah approached and whispered, "The back bedroom."
I waved a hand toward the shadowy hall. "To the back, you guys."
"Glad I could help you with your work," Torres said with a forced smile.
I grabbed him in a hug as tears soaked my eyelashes. "I'm glad you're okay."
"Of course, I'm okay. Are you okay?" He pulled back to study me.
I chose not to respond and instead followed my friends. Sometimes I felt like I wouldn't be okay until my brother was, but other times I allowed myself to acknowledge that I had to be okay, regardless of whether he was or not. I had to be okay for the both of us.
In the back bedroom, there was a stained mattress on the bare floor, on which an elderly man was having a seizure. I hurried over and handed the resuscitation device to Nixie. "Do you know how to use this?" I asked. She nodded, her eyes wide. Delilah stared at the man's chest, using heightened vampiric senses to monitor his heart rate and vital signs. He started to foam at the mouth. Legend glanced from the scene on the bed to the scene down the hall as he took up his position as lookout.
"Thirty seconds," Delilah stated.
I lowered my eyelids and centered myself, preparing to enter a trance. I put earbuds in my ears and listened to the shamanic drums pouring from the speakers, and I chanted under my breath, a low, repetitive sound that helped my body relax. The altered state of consciousness hit almost at once. It was like a sudden vortex. It sucked me into myself.
At the same time, Delilah shouted, "Now!" Nixie leaped into action to resuscitate the dying man whose spirit all at once shared the wild dark with me.
We were in a shadowy, fog-laden version of the apartment. I sat on the floor in a cross-legged meditation pose. The haggard old man looked around, bewildered, at the shades of the addicts who hadn't made it out alive. They were huddled in the corners, staring at us with lightless eyes. They seemed to know we shouldn't be there. The energetic signature of the place was one of giving up. It was a place where hope had died, and where only despondency remained.
Still chanting, I reached out a hand to Delilah on the side of the real world and gripped her upper arm, and the vampire appeared in the darkness, too. Then the dying man gasped and flickered out of sight, leaving only Delilah, the ghosts, and me. Nixie had done it. She had called him back to life. I gestured ahead with my chin, and the vampire clasped my hand.
"I see it," she whispered.
Huge black wrought iron gates had materialized in the middle of the room. The Gates of Mortality.
***
An eerie glow emanated through the pickets, seemingly from beyond the dark apartment, casting long, dancing shadows on the silhouettes of ghosts surrounding us. The air cloyed with the smell of ozone and petrichor, and the only sound was my heavy breathing. I snapped out of my daze.
"Once you walk through those gates, it'll unlock the Rainbow Bridge on the real world side. I don't know what that will look like, but be prepared for when I awaken from my trance, and you're thrown back into your body. It'll be jarring," I warned.
Delilah bobbed her head and stepped toward the gates. I had asked the river for guidance on how to proceed. The Rainbow Bridge could only be accessed when Delilah opened the portal for me. After that, I would be able to summon it at will, and Legend would drive us through to the City of Immortals. We had one chance to do this right. I had no desire to find another near-death victim, even if we were able to revive them.
"You might feel dizzy or disoriented for a few minutes, but it will pass. Just focus on taking deep breaths and grounding yourself back in reality." I took a deep breath myself, trying to calm my nerves. "Are you ready?" I asked.
Delilah's slender fingers clasped the ornate gate latch, but a commotion from the real world side gave us pause. I closed my eyes even tighter, trying to stay in the trance. I could hear people moving around me. Someone shook my shoulder roughly.
"What's happening?" Delilah asked.
"I don't know. Stay here."
My spirit left the shadowy underworld and returned to the room where Nixie and Legend were waiting. I saw myself sitting on the floor, and Delilah swaying beside me. She was holding my hand. The old man had fled the room.
Nixie stared at my unconscious form with panicked eyes as she tried to wake me. Legend was shouting something. It took me a moment to understand what he was saying. Fitz burst into the room, grabbed and picked Nixie up. He barreled past Delilah and me, breaking our contact, and the vampire and I slammed back into reality. Delilah slumped against the wall, disoriented, but I realized we were in trouble and quickly shook off the lag of being in a trance state.
"Dex, come on! We have to get Nixie and the book out of here!" Legend yelled.
Fitz, out of breath, said, "One of the men from the photos you showed me just circled the block twice. He's coming back now!" The smugglers had found us. I patted the sharpshooter to get him to put me down.
"I'll take the lead! Fitz, cover my ass," I ordered.
Somersaulting from the cross-legged position on the floor to my feet, I ignored waves of vertigo as I smoothly slid my weapons from concealment. I tossed a gun to Nixie who wriggled out of Fitz's grasp to defend herself. In two giant steps, I was out of the room, letting my keen werewolf nose guide me in the darkened hallway.
I heard Torres shout something about the police, and the apartment rapidly emptied of anyone still able to run. My brother rushed down the hall toward us. "You have to go. You have to leave!"
"Where's the back door?" I asked.
We dashed into the living room, with me kicking aside the jumble of clothes and junk making the pitch-black apartment a hazard. Torres hurried us toward a patio door. When it didn't open on the first tug, Legend's dragon burst from his chest and shattered the glass. Gesturing frantically, my brother pushed us outside. Then he transformed from man-shape to run faster. I couldn't unleash my inner wolf yet. I had to keep us alive.
I spun around at the patio door threshold, weapon drawn to provide cover as three men burst into the apartment. The minute they spotted me, they fired. I backflipped out of the way, shooting back. Every sound was amplified. Sheetrock exploded white powder into the room as bullets dug into the walls.
"We're not leaving without that book," someone growled.
I didn't know what kind of Supernaturals I was dealing with, but I had a mix of rounds, a Russian roulette of chances that one of them might do the trick. I fired back and yelled, "Is it worth dying for?"
"Given the bounty the president has put on it, I'd say, yes." My unseen opponent chuckled darkly as I backed out of the apartment.
So, Distefano was behind the smuggling ring. A projectile clipped my collarbone. I swallowed a grunt of pain, grateful for my werewolf healing abilities. The wound sealed right before my eyes. A quick peek over my shoulder revealed Legend all but dragging Nixie to the car, and Fitz forcing Delilah into the backseat.
I bit my lip as I tried to calculate how much longer I could hold the men off. Another three blasts echoed through the night. The moon overhead watched the firefight taking place on the patio with a half-smile. Sirens screamed in the distance. Footsteps came from the other side of the apartment building, and I realized there were more of them. My heart beat faster as I abandoned the porch, dropping to the ground in the nick of time as Fitz shot over my head to deter my pursuers.
"Nice work," I said as I scrambled into the car.
"Close the door! Close the door!" Legend slammed on the gas. His dragon boosted our speed. The men chasing us jumped into their vehicle, but they couldn't keep up. We zipped down side streets and flew through red lights to lose them. Still, we couldn't go straight home.
"Take a roundabout way back in case anyone else is following us," I commanded.
In the rearview mirror, I saw Delilah comforting Nixie in the backseat. The princess fought off showing the fear I knew that she felt. She clutched The Book of Tides to her chest, along with the firearm I had given her, and rocked back and forth, while Legend eyed me from the driver's seat, worried. I gritted my teeth. This was too dangerous.
We had nearly reached the Gates of Mortality before being interrupted. However, it was time to consider that Abuela had been correct. Baton Rouge was no longer safe for us. I had to get Nixie and Legend away from here.
***
The next part will become free on November 29, 2023, but until then, it can be unlocked for only 5 coins.