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Rebels and scumbags. Socialites, nobility. Those who hear my voice, become a scourge to this society.
Ability to discern the plug is a requirement. You must know who to ask to be allowed in this establishment.
We rowdy, buggin, high, drunk, the Lord is mad about it. Church says the reverie is bold and too irreverent.
Hypocrisy is relevant. It's seeping into government. We live outside the judgment, breaking all the old covenants.
Nine shots in, kick on the four. We check for bullshit at the door.
It's another night of debauchery at the Dragon Layer.
Drink and do drugs, don't act a fool. Have a good time, just be cool.
It's another night of debauchery at the Dragon Layer.
Blade at the side like the bride Nefertiti. Akhenaten I can't be. I smoke too much. I'm greedy.
And socially needy. I cuddle with freaks and weirdos, pimps with no hoes, and the nobles with the coke nose.
Who do you think you are? A snowflake, phenomena? Unique outside the pattern of mankind and social mandala?
Automatic automata? Beautiful Andromeda? You're just one of a million. Upright sacrophaga.
Please. We all came here to release, to feed the need, and please the sensation in our knees. Bow and bend to Dionysius.
Call your mother here, Oedipus. You oh-so piteous. Your ire is tangible. That rigmarole is dangerous.
Standing there with your arms crossed. Be cool and have a shot. I'm about to burn the permafrost, I simply won't stop.
That's the right of the bard in the left light. Take me to the pyre and you can have all my birthrights.
I don't want to meet your friends. I just want the fakeness to end.
Build me up, then tear me down. I don't care, don't stand around.
Dance, or cry. Whatever you like. Gird your loins. We might get in a fight.
Mosh and jump in, feel it, froggy, create something, Izanagi.
We don't care if it's right! We at the Layer tonight!
Rebel for a long time! We at the Layer tonight!
She regained consciousness in an empty barracks with only the sound of her heartbeat and the sight of the ceiling to greet her. Mecca Jonesboro needed a moment to take stock of where she was, where she’d been, and where her wounded pride was about to take her. She was furious and wanted a word with the good doctor.
She sat up with a weary groan. While attempting to collect her thoughts and rehearse her takedown of the doctor for when she saw him, the self-same man knocked, opened the door, and then crouched into the barracks room holding a cup of coffee. A peace offering, no doubt. He spoke before she could.
“Meccs’, Kipp gave the word. I didn’t have a choice. I’m sorry, don’t be mad, and this coffee sucks but I got it for you,” he spurted as he reached down and offered the cup. She stared into his deep-blue sincere eyes, then sighed. Without a word of gratitude, she accepted the drink and, without breaking her glare, she would sip. It was hot and bitter but full of caffeine. Exactly what she needed. He smiled as she sipped then sat on the edge of the bed across from her. There were only two plain mattresses and frames in the unfurnished closet of a room set aside for officers to rest between shifts, and they were alone. The cup was half gone before she lowered it and spoke.
“What I don’t like, Will, is when my agency is taken away from me.”
“I totally get that, and I’m sorry. Kipp gave the order right when the Report permitted you to disengage the limiter. I had to tell him that you got jumped by a corpse. We got to you a couple of minutes later.”
“You were trying to stop me from going after the Witch.”
“I told- you know what, yes. Yes, I was. You were in no condition to go after a Cardinal anything, nevermind a witch, and they weren’t going to accept another request to release your limiter, not after we had to recover you. I made a judgment call, okay?”
“Next time you make a fucking judgment call about me, my health, or what I’m doing? Make sure you run it by me first. I’m not a child, a pet, or an amateur.”
“I know you’re not. I’m sorry, I really am. How’s the coffee?”
“I’m awake, if that’s what you mean. I’m awake enough, in fact, for you to tell me what happened with the Witch. Eu’dora. That was her name, right?”
“Right. So, after we retrieved you, I did some cross-referencing with what we had after this afternoon, facial recognition, basic and-not-so-basic information that I might have to call in some favors for and you’re probably not gonna believe what her last name is.”
“I was assaulted by a corpse today. I’m willing to believe anything.”
“LeBlanc. Eu’dora LeBlanc, the elusive, reclusive, and apparently filthy stinking rich director and CEO of the LeBlanc Foundation.”
“Bullshit.”
“Bulls might shit you but I swear to Christ, I won’t. Not about this. Listen, she hasn’t been seen in public for decades. Disappeared to the LeBlanc Foundation penthouse and the business practically runs itself as a business conglomerate. It’s no wonder that we didn’t know who she was right away. Most alarming byline of this story? Get this. When I followed the money, it led me straight back to us. The LeBlanc Foundation is a secret donor for the ARCH Institute. Their money helped build the MS Report. I tried to talk to my Dad about it but you know how he is. I’ll have to go find him and ask him myself if I want to drag him away from his research.”
“What you’re suggesting is that one of the four Cardinal Witches is responsible for building the system that helps us hunt or subjugate Witches. That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Right, exactly. I haven’t talked to Commander Starr about it yet. I figured you and I would talk first.”
“Really? Because you seemed perfectly okay with doing whatever you wanted without talking to me first earlier.”
“I get the feeling that I’ll be saying sorry for the next decade or two.”
“And it wouldn’t be enough. Whatever. Where is she?”
“Well, that’s the other thing. The MS Report doesn’t identify her as a Witch. I’ve got a tracker going with city surveillance now. After you got jumped, she stayed at the museum for another few hours.
“You didn’t call it in?”
“I had to finish gathering intel. Kipp wasn’t going to authorize setting up an Inquisition based on an assumption with no evidence. Anyway, after a few hours, she got into a Cadillac limousine and went home. I don’t have any data or footage inside the penthouse.”
“So that’s where she is now.”
“Well, no. She got dressed up, hopped back into the limo, and she’s on the way West from the East Valley. I’m watching her with a drone and satellite footage, but there’s nothing to suggest that she’s a Witch who would care to keep quiet.”
“Maybe she doesn’t want to keep quiet. Maybe she knows she’s being followed. Maybe that’s why she revealed herself to me at the museum. Maybe she’s being flagrant and doesn’t care if we know who she is because she thinks we can’t or won’t do anything about it.”
“Maybe.”
“So, clearly, everything that’s happening today is connected. The sky was red during the day, the Red Witch shows up on the MS Report, and the White Witch is doing what she wants out in the open.”
“Okay. So we tell Kipp, get some support, follow the trail and su-“
“No, I want to go underground on this.”
“Right. So, you’re taking the attack personally? That it?”
“Yes and no. I have questions, and that bitch has answers. I want them. That and it doesn’t make fiscal or tactical sense to divide the agency right now. I don’t need to be there for a raid, but I intend to wrap this up before that’s even an issue.”
“I don’t-“
“And you, my friend, are going to do what? You’re going to back me up. You owe me.”
William stood up. His head crested the ceiling, so he slouched and headed towards the door.
“Let’s talk and walk.”
Mecca nodded her consent. She stood and followed him from the room out into the open space on the Public Safety building floor. It was quiet, as this was an administrative floor and not the main booking or office areas. William led them out into the hall and towards the glass exterior. They could see outside and across the Phoenix city skyline. The Public Safety building was by no means one of the tallest buildings and was surrounded by several other government buildings that were empty by this time of night. Night, Mecca assumed, per the presence of the moon. There was no other indication of darkness. The sky was just as red, bright, and angry as it was before her confrontation earlier in the day. Mecca froze when she realized what she was looking at.
“Tonight’s a full moon so I expected the color but not the light. What the hell is going on?”
“That’s what I wanted you to see. It’s been nighttime for about an hour, Meccs, and it might as well be noon. I know we’re in Arizona and the days are long in the Summer, but there’s been no change in the light since the sun rose this morning and there’s no sun out.”
“Well, fuck me.”
“Yeah. So, first of all, I agree with you. All of this is related. Two witches and a pissed-off sky that doesn’t know when it’s time to be night anymore? That’s not a coincidence. But the reason that I’m going to help you, which I’m going to do, is because now the Report is involved, which by the way isn’t giving me any answers on why this is happening. I want answers too. I didn’t spend years learning everything about the thing only to find out that we’re part of some Witch’s cabal and didn’t even know it. Hell, I at least want to know whose side I’m on.”
Mecca finally relaxed enough to join William at his side by the window. There was a railing separating the floor space from the window. She leaned over it while looking wincingly at the sky. When she spoke, she turned and leaned back against the rail to catch William’s eyes.
She smiled softly, and said “Alright. So where is she going?”
I don’t remember waking up, getting ready, rehearsing, or anything anyone had said to me throughout the evening yet here I was sitting in a booth with Ran, a cocktail, and a blank stare on my face.
Returning to active consciousness like that, with the music fading in over the sound of my heartbeat, was jarring, but must have played it off well enough because no one seemed to notice. I took stock. The Dragon Layer was dim, and Mama was on stage in the middle of her last number. It was just her and the backing track, no band or dancers, so while singing she was playing it up as the hostess of the night. Hands were shaken, cheeks kissed between notes, a bouquet made its way into her arms, and she was eating up every bit of the attention. It was her favorite part of the show, and I’d seen her do it dozens of times. The stage lights were bright white. The house lights were warm but dim. The air was heady with smoke and alcohol vapor. We were packed. Ran was sitting across from me, stirring his drink and talking, but I wasn’t paying attention to the words or if it was even me he was trying to communicate with. He was casual, as always, in a t-shirt with a character I didn’t recognize on it, but he had a blazer over it and the sleeves rolled up. That was my blazer. I didn’t care to lecture him about it.
The song was over. The crowd was roaring with electric energy. Some people stood and applauded, others whistled, or hollered, or lifted their glasses and cheered. Eleganza was getting her tens, and somewhere in all of that distracting spectacle, someone approached and touched my shoulder. I leaped in my seat with a jolt. It was Adreas, who was standing over me with a sympathetic smile.
“Hey, D.J. I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about how my brother acted earlier. We good?” she said in a half-shout that could be heard over the applause. I patted the back of her hand and forced a smile. I didn’t feel like shouting so I nodded and mouthed a dry yeah in response. We, Adreas and I, were good.
The sound in the room was slowly dissipating. Eleganza had left the stage, but I knew she’d stay in the building. People were moving again, to get drinks and head out for cigarettes before my set. Adreas slid into the booth next to me, locking me in. I moved aside. She was a good girl, but a pushy one.
“Listen, I know you probably, like, totally don’t wanna hear this right now, hi there, what’s your name?” She went from talking to me to suddenly talking to Ran. He was looking back at her. Was he checking her out?
“Hey. You were on the podcast earlier, right? Adreas, right? I’m Ranish. Ranish Caium.”
I noticed that he left off his second last name, Benjamin.
“You’re new. Where did you come from?” She said to him.
I interrupted. “What was it that I wouldn’t want to hear right now?”
She refocused and turned back to me. “Today’s episode was the most listened to in the history of ever. Hermanito was a butthole, for real, but everyone in the city knows who you are now, that’s for sure. Did you notice? The club is packed tonight! Like, oh my god! Across the street, in all that open desert? Cars. People are braving it out here regardless of the night. Or day. It’s still way too bright out. Where did your friend come from?”
“Yeah, Ran, where did you come from?” I asked him accusingly.
He was sipping another Midori Sour like the one he’d had this morning. He took a swig, which emptied the glass leaving only ice, then smiled in that mischievous way he always did. “I’m just a figment of your imagination, Dylan. Now for you, love, I can be from anywhere.”
She laughed. What the hell was happening here? Were they flirting? Do people do that? Why do that in front of me, right now? The reverie was cut when Arliss approached from behind his sister. He stood at the head of the table then locked eyes with me. He was in his navy blue chauffeur uniform, so I figured he was working and just came over to be around his sister. That was fine. I had something to say.
“You’re a real piece of shit, ya’ know that?” I said with a sneer.
He shrugged. “You’re the one who couldn’t be bothered to tell the truth, as per the usual.”
An ache crept into the sides of my head. I closed my eyes. “Listen. I don’t have to tell anything to anybody, a’ight? Fuck off with that shit.”
Adreas interjected in a flat, serious, low tone, “Yeah, Arliss, just let it go already.”
To which, Arliss said, “Look, you should be happy. If I hadn’t pushed and you hadn’t blown up like a little bitch, then you wouldn’t be the hottest thing in entertainment right now. I did you a-“
Ran had heard enough because Arliss was on the floor before he could finish his sentence. Adreas screamed, and I reflexively got up to see how hard the hit was. Ran must have pulled his punch because Arliss was howling but his jaw wasn’t broken and I didn’t see any teeth flying. A woman we didn’t know gasped in shock. Phones were coming out to record video. Ran spoke before anyone could get their camera apps open.
“He’s the lover. I’m the fighter. Leave him alone or next time it won’t be a love tap. Dyl’, you should go get ready. Your set’s in a few minutes.”
Ran was defending my honor, and it didn’t feel good that he felt like he had to, but I did as I was told. Without a word, I took off through the crowd and only caught the last whines from Arliss as he fussed and complained about the harassment he brought on himself for anyone in earshot. I made it to the corridor entrance by the bar, which I’d use to get backstage. Boss was working. We locked eyes for a moment. He nodded, acknowledged me, and returned to serving a young woman who’d requested some mixed drink I hadn’t heard of and couldn’t recognize. Boss and I weren’t close but we had a vibe. The moment I passed him, we both spoke using that silent, subtle language only introverts and weirdos understand; Boss approved. Ran was in the right. If Arliss kept it up, he’d probably be the one getting thrown out of the bar into an unforgiving night. And Mama hadn’t seen it since she was backstage, so there was no one to give anyone else any grief about it. I was grateful for Ran’s sake. I gave him a single nod back.
I made my way down the hall. heard Mama before I saw her. She was talking with her backing band and a man I’d recognized as a promoter she may or may not have been fucking. She would never tell. When I turned the corner where the dressing rooms were, she immediately motioned me over. She must have heard me coming. I got close, with a newly forced smile.
“And here’s my star! Hey, baby!” She said as she pulled me into a hug with her free hand and the side of her body that wasn’t holding liquor. It was comforting, though I had to tiptoe so that she didn’t have to slouch.
“You did great, Ma,” I said. “That song is really something.”
“Of course it is. I wrote it, hell,” she said with a hearty laugh. “Let me catch up with y’all later. I wanna holla’ at this one real quick.” She was talking to the band. They all gave their goodbyes, then took off down the hall towards the club. One, Kidd Valentino, Mama’s favorite, and our new bass player, caught me by the arm as he passed.
“You know Jack been asking ‘bout you,” he said with a wink. Kidd was the flashy young type, with his sequin chain midriff and tight leather jeans, and if Ran wasn’t already the precocious little brother in my mind, then he’d be second runner-up. He was too young to drink but not too young to be all up in everybody’s business; him knowing Jack and Jack telling him about me when I wasn’t around was evidence enough of that.
“If he asks again, tell him I’ll call him. I won’t but tell him that,” I said.
Kidd laughed. “I don’t know why you icing him like that.”
“I’m not ‘icing him’ like anything.” I would change the subject. “Can you make sure lighting knows the right cues? They were sloppy during rehearsal.”
“Sure, sure, sure. See you in a minute!” He sang as he hopped along. Eleganza and I watched, and then she turned and led me along to where she knew I’d hole away; my dressing room. A lot seemed to have happened since last night when we were last alone, but when the door closed and I sat at the chair before the vanity it was like our conversation from last night was still going on. I was safe and comfortable. My sword, which I’d been carrying without realizing it, as usual, was set down and I leaned back with a deep breath.
“Dylan, honey, you’ve been zonked out all night. That interview was a hot ass mess. You alright? I’m worried about you,” she said as she stood behind me. I met her eyes in the mirror.
Before I answered, I reached and found a blunt in the drawer. I didn’t light it, just held it between my fingers as I said, “I’ll be alright. You know how Arliss is. Besides, I think he’s going to let up for a while. You were right about Ran staying with me for a while. He took care of it.”
“See? I told you. You always wanna be by yourself. I’m glad you’ve got somebody close now.”
“Mama, why do you never ask me about my past? Never once have you asked me about where I came from, my past, or anything.”
She leaned down and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. I relaxed under her warmth. She held me tighter and I lightly held her solid forearms.
“Now, listen here. Honey, I loves you. You create some of the most beautiful art in this whole upside down-ass world. I don’t care none about where you came from, and if that boy out there is from the same place, then I trust that he knows you and loves you just the same as I do.”
I closed my eyes and fought back tears. She nestled her head against mine. She spoke softly, so only we could hear.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Life’s rough. Wouldn’t be worth a damn if it wasn’t. You keep doing your best, you hear? We can talk all you want later. Right now, those people out there? They scared. I saw it on stage tonight. It’s not supposed to look the way itdo outside. We’ve got a job to do. So you take a minute, you know, step your pussy up-“
“Ma, c’mon.”
“-and go out there and slay. Alright? Hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am. I hear you.”
“Alright then,” she said as she stood up then lightly shoved the back of my head. She turned away and sashayed towards the door.
“Ma?”
“Yes, sugarfoot?”
“About talking later. I’d like that. I figure it’ll come out anyway, you know, about the past? So I want you to hear about it from me, not from Arliss or some blog or whatever.” I wiped my wet eyes and turned in the seat towards her. She was standing there smiling with one hand on her hip.
“Boy, you ain’t said but a word. Tomorrow? Let’s chat. Tonight, go slay, have fun, put on a show, make ‘em gag, and do cut down on the pot, please? You and Mitsuo are gonna have the shit growing in the walls. Anyways, I’m going to go find me somebody to lay up under.”
I laughed and watched the door close with her on the other side.
I was alone.
She was alone.
The corridor was empty. Eleganza the Divine, queen of the Dragon Layer, doyenne of stage and music entertainment, and matriarch of the House of Divine was finally alone and she appreciated the silence. The bar would be buzzing just a few yards away but backstage offered some discretion. She moved to her own dressing room and entered with no resistance from the door. The room smelled of her favorite perfume like it always did. She would be comforted if there wasn’t a bouquet of white roses in a crystal vase on the table that didn’t belong to her.
“Ah, hell naw,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “You ain’t changed not one damn bit, have you, Miss Thing?”
With a turn to her right, Eleganza locked eyes on the couch against the wall. A woman in a white fur coat and a haute couture dress met her glare with a whimsical grin. Her legs were crossed, and her gloved hands rested on her lap courteously.
“I must say, the lighting in this room does wonders for women our age, wouldn’t you agree, Adam? I’m sorry, dear. It’s Eleganza now, isn’t it?”
Eleganza grimaced. She turned, and locked the door then pulled it to ensure that it was secure. She was wearing a wig, tall as a crown, which she removed revealing a head covered in jet black and neatly braided cornrows. The couch took up the entirety of the wall, leaving just enough room to pull up the chair from the vanity and sit with her own legs crossed facing this woman. A small, glass coffee table separated them.
Eleganza asked with disdain in her voice, “So, what do I call you this time?” then crossed her arms over her bare chest. She wanted an answer, but her tightly guarded body demonstrated a lack of receptiveness. The well-off middle-aged woman smiled even wider.
“Eu’dora. LeBlanc is the family name. Never married. Rather successful with considerable means, as always. I rather like this run.”
“Eu’dora? Really? That is the most white woman-ass name I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, honey, I can’t help that I have humble yet inspired tastes in my character design and backstory. So, then, Eleganza?” Eu’dora paused to look her subject up and down. “That’s what we’re doing now?”
“Is that supposed to be shade? Cause if we got beef, we can eat.”
“I wouldn’t dream of treating you that way. You’re a star, this go-round, after all. Fantastic show, by the way. I wouldn’t have made it out if my children hadn’t insisted, but I’m glad I did.”
“Ah, you’re doing the foster thing again. That’s cute for you. Do they know that their mother is a Witch?”
“They do. Do your children know that you’re a man?”
“Very funny, bitch. Yes, they do. You wanna check? I got the dick to prove it.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you. I figured you could spare an audience, you know, woman to woman.”
Eleganza breathed deeply, then said in an even more agitated tone of voice, “This again. What, girl, what? I thought we agreed not to do this anymore.”
“Well, as you can see from the sky, we’re out of time.”
“What that got to do with me?”
“You haven’t offered me a drink. You were never a rude guest.”
“I’m still mad at you, heifer.”
“Goodness, you would think that you’d forget about something like that after so many generations.”
“I ain’t forgot and I won’t forget. What’s the game this time?”
“Have I given myself the reputation of a woman who plays games?”
“With me, yes, you really have. Why is you here?”
Eu’dora chuckled, and her bemused smile widened. “I still don’t have a drink.”
With an exasperated groan, Eleganza stood and made her way back to the vanity. Underneath, there was a mini refrigerator. She opened it and retrieved a decanter full of deep brown liquor and two tempered glass tumblers that were kept on ice. She poured while grumbling under her breath, then turned and offered one of the glasses to the Witch sitting across from her. “Bitch, here!”
Eu’dora smiled and took the glass. She didn’t drink it, instead cradling it in her hand and swirling the contents. “Brandy?”
“Hennessy.” Eleganza was pouring her own glass. “Get on with it. What do you want?”
Eu’dora said, “To visit an old friend and offer him a place on the side of reason.”
“Ha! Your side is the reason side? Girl, please.” With a single gulp, Eleganza emptied her glass.
“Honey, we’ve known each other for a very, very long time. We’ve done this for centuries. You get a new identity, I get a new body. We’ve been, what do they say, around the block? And yet, we keep running into each other like this. At this rate, I’m inclined to think that you like me.”
“Girl, you’re about to get on my very last, lonely nerve.”Eleganza flopped back into her chair.
“That’s only because your reactions are so entertaining. Now, do I really need to tell you why I’m here or have you remembered what we are?”
Eleganza groaned before answering. “The Pale is collapsing. End of Mankind. Fire and brimstone, right? Am I on the right track?”
Eu’dora took a moment and continued playing with her liquor. For a moment, all either of them could notice was the swish of cold fluid against glass. She said, in a dry, stern tone, “Yes. We’re on the precipice of the end of a Run.”
“And I should care?”
“Well, I for one love the stories these short-lived people carry out. So many dramas, tragedies, romances, wars, art. Oh, the arts, especially. While I wouldn’t call my existence “life” anymore, in the traditional sense, it would certainly be substantially less interesting if there was only dust and cockroaches left to entertain me.”
“That sounds like a personal problem. And I use the expression ‘person’ loosely.”
“Come now, be nice. If I had feelings, then you could hurt them with your behavior.”
“So, what you want me to do? Be your partner? Your sidekick? What, you want a donation? I got some coin if that’s it.”
“I can promise you that my net worth after all this time is just a little higher than yours, beloved. You’d be surprised what inflation can generate over a few thous- oops. A lady mustn’t disclose her age.”
“So what do you want?” Eleganza let her voice rise to a howl of agitation and anguish.
So, Eu’dora said, “I want to endorse the Jabari boy.”
In a threatening rumble, Eleganza said, “Get out.”
“If you insist. But, I know that you and the Swordsmith have sheltered the boy. I know that the Paladin has doubt and that he let the boy roam before reaching you. I know that you’ve been planning for what’s to come just as much as I have. And while I have my own ideas for an endorsement, I know that you see something in him and I intend to find out what that is. I just thought that I’d give you the chance to cooperate and let me in rather than me put you out.”
“Listen, here. He ain’t no bargaining chip. He’s an artist, a’ight? You say you love art, right, but you want to put him in a position that would keep him the furthest from it? You must be out yo’ mind if you think that I’d acquiesce to that shit.”
Eu’dora answered with a shrug. Gently, she placed her glass on the short coffee table that divided them and stood. She pulled her fur coat close, smiled, and locked eyes with Eleganza.
“Well, it never hurts to ask. And it’s always good to see a friend. Thank you, for the drink.”
Eleganza sucked her teeth and turned away in her chair without a word. Eu’dora sniggered, then stepped gracefully to the door. She wiggled the handle. It didn’t give.
“Oh my god, girl, you saw me lock it,” Eleganza said without looking.
Eu’dora jingled it again. “What an obtuse thing. How do you-“
“Twist the lock then Lift it.”
Eu’dora pulled again. The door held tight. “Lift what?”
“The door, girl. Undo the lock, pull up, then pull the handle.”
Eu’dora pulled twice. The door still wouldn’t give.
“BITCH. TWIST THE LOCK ON THE HANDLE TO THE UNLOCKED POSITION. PULL THE HANDLE UPWARDS OFF OF THE FLOOR. STEP BACK AND PULL THE DOOR TOWARDS YOU.”
Instructions were followed, and the door creaked open letting in the cool air and club noise from outside. Eu’dora stepped out. She stopped just enough to say, “I’ll see you again. You should do something about this door situation.”
Eu’dora threw her glass at the closing door, shattering it to a hundred angry pieces.
You can do this, Dylan.
I never get nervous before performances. Other things make me more anxious than that. But tonight, I felt drained and incapable. So, I sat there at the vanity, staring into the dressing room mirror, taking in everything around me and trying to hear the voice in my head. .
You can do this, Dylan.
My outfit was good. I’d been working on getting better at the flashy showmanship schtick, thanks to Mama, and tonight I felt sexy for the first time in a long time. That’s where a lot of music showmanship comes from, after all. Sex. Sometimes soft, something hard, sometimes intimate, sometimes personal, sometimes distant, sometimes wet, o throbbing, or rhythmic, mean, and at other times soothing, connective, and kind. I let myself squeeze into the leather jeans with the short hem jacket to match, and left the shirt behind, baring my chest for the audience to see. I was in good shape, with lean muscle that I decided not to be self-conscious about, for once. The boots were clean, leather as well, and gave me a couple of appreciated inches in height. Mama tried to get me to wear a platform heel at one point, to make my legs longer, she’d say, but I liked being able to walk and not break my ankles. Tonight, I was giving them the boots. I looked good.
You can do this, Dylan.
After the podcast, I got a nap in then made it to rehearsal. We sounded great. Mama and I shared the backing band, but I felt like tonight was a good night to show off. I was proud of what we’d worked on. I wasn’t going to play synth tonight, just be at the mic. It was okay to want this. It’s okay to have worked hard to have this moment. It’s okay that this was a change from what I used to do. It’s okay that I was an artist, not a priest, or an exorcist, or a killer. That didn’t define me. I defined myself. I was sexy, competent, charming, and confident.
I can’t fucking do this.
I broke into a torrent of tears. My body ached with the pain of remembering Raphael. Just his name sent me back down the drain of an anxiety attack, and following the familiar tears, I eventually wouldn’t be able to breathe. That’s how it goes. I’d start gasping, and eventually, it’d die out, and I’d reach for weed or the bottle, whatever was closest. I was grateful that I was alone.
“What a sad thing this is to see, boy.”
I was, actually, not alone.
I snapped my head up. Behind me, leaning on the wall by the door with his hands in his pocket, was the Paladin. The weight on my heart shifted and seesawed from overwhelming despair to blinding, copious rage.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I choked out as I reflexively wiped the wetness from my face.
“Five years, my son. I let you wander the Earth for five years only to find you here in a liquor shack.” His voice, as always, reverberated through me. I fought the revulsion, or what I thought was revulsion, until I realized that it was in fact fear. I turned to face him, my fists balled up tight at my sides. I peered deep into his eyes. The square, half-frame glasses on his face that I never saw him couldn’t withstand my ire. He was a monolith. A tall, massive, impossible man, dressed in a milk-white three piece modified vestment suit under a trenchcoat that hung like a cape from his shoulders.
“I asked you a question,” I said.
“Make me answer it,” he retorted calmly.
I screamed. My sword was in hand. I threw myself at him and thrust the butt of the sheath at his head. He moved his neck to the opposite side. I hit the wall behind him with a thud that shook the room. I pulled back, and thrust again rapidly once, then twice, then four, five, and seven times, faster than I thought any man could stand to dodge in a modest-sized dressing room. He didn’t have to. Instead, each of my swipes was caught and pushed aside by the single stalwart index finger of his right hand. I could hear the impact. Six times he deflected me. On the seventh, the butt and his finger met flatly. His finger didn’t budge. The impact was nearly the same as whiffing and hitting the wall. In a single motion, I flipped the sword in the air so that it rotated into a reverse grip. I swung with the side of the sheath again at his head. The side of my sheath hit his forearm. The flat clash of wood and muscle echoed. I braced myself and pushed against his guard. His arm didn’t budge.
He was still an immovable, massive, tall, impossible and imposing monolithic asshole. I hesitated. He must have lost patience with me because his non-blocking hand was on my throat. I reached with my free hand and tried to pry him off of me. His face didn’t change. I struggled. He lifted me effortlessly from the floor, and I desperately flailed my legs along the floor.
There was a knock at the door. “Dylan, they’re asking about you. You ready?” It was Ran.
I panicked. He relented, and I coughed. He could have easily broken my windpipe, but he held back. I cursed his disproportionate strength and my relative weakness. He wanted me to answer Ran. He didn’t have to say so. I would obey.
I cleared my throat, and gargled, “Hey, I’m still changing. Give me like five minutes, okay?”
Ran hesitated. Then, in his usually cheerful voice, he said “Sure thing, bro. Can’t wait to see you play!”
The Paladin released me. I retreated from the man that molded me and toppled onto my ass. He was even bigger from the ground. I rubbed my throat and prayed that I could still sing tonight.
“Why are you here?”
He lowered himself into a squat in front of me. My fear grew.
“I have a job for you.”
“Fuck you!” I barked. My throat hurt even more.
He shook his head and declared, “You hate me.”
“You better believe it.”
“I did what I had to do. Raphael did what he had to do.”
“Raphael is dead! I killed him because he asked me to, and he asked me to because of you! You knew! You knew he was going to ask me to do it, not Mary! He was the one person, the one fucking person who got me, who loved me, and you made me fucking kill him!”
“And he would be a saint for it if The Red hadn’t reincarnated. The job is undone.”
“Why the shit should I care?”
“Because I will take what I have given you. The sword, which you sealed with your shame and despair. The sword, whose name you have forgotten. I will take it from you. Your name, your rank, your dominion. All of it. I will take it. And I will do the same for my youngest son. I offer you both redemption through absolution. You need only complete the mission. Finish your job”
Ran. I cringed at my own instinct to protect him. Through gritted teeth, I said, “No.”
He slowly stood back up without ever breaking eye contact. His hands returned to his pockets. Then, he turned to the door.
I cringed again, and forced myself to say, “Ranish. Leave him alone.” I didn’t know what I thought he would do.
He said over his shoulder, “Ranish has lived amongst beasts for too long. LEVIATHAN wishes to have him. Sign the contract in the blood of the witch and I will see to it that you are relieved from your debt to the Lord.” He opened the door. The club noise summoning me to the stage was deafening. “And He will forgive you.”
He was gone. I was alone, again. Alone, and frustrated. I screamed as loud as I could and hammered my first into the floor over and over until my forearm was sore.
I can’t do this.
The limousine was a Cadillac, white, trimmed in platinum, and virtually spotless. It was pulled behind the back of the Dragon Layer, and when the wheels stopped the door opened automatically. Eu’dora LeBlanc, the matriarch of the LeBlanc Foundation, and her daughter, Adreas Santiago, sauntered from the backstage exit to the limousine. They loaded into the car, and the door closed behind them.
Eu’dora loved life, and it was written in her smile. She affectionately patted her daughter’s knee, who sat across from her in the backseat with her pink sequin-cased mobile phone in hand, typing away. They would wait until the limo was pulling away and the interior lights dimmed to a comfortable hue before they made conversation.
“Mother, do we have to leave so early? D.J. is about to play,” Adreas whined.
“Sweetheart, you’ve seen him play plenty of times before. Why does it matter if you see him tonight of all nights?” Eu’dora was looking out past the tinted windows as the club parking lot slid by her purview.
“Well, yeah, but I mean Arliss really got under his skin and he always plays, like, super good when he’s pissed off.”
Eu’dora turned her head to catch her daughter’s eyes. “Yes, your brother does have a talent for that sort of thing, doesn’t he? I love you both dearly but I do wish you’d take after your brother more.”
Adreas shrugged. “Triplets and we’re all different. I mean, could you imagine if you had three of me?” She smiled. Eu’dora smiled back. The limo chugged to a stop, and the engine was turned off. The smiles faded.
It was too soon to stop. Adreas tapped on the black partition glass. “Hermanito? Why’d you stop? Don’t tell me that’s the stupid engine.”
The partition rolled down. There, in Arliss’ chauffeur hat, was Mecca Jonesboro.
Eu’dora’s smile widened. “Well, well.”
“Well, well indeed, Madame LeBlanc,” Mecca said with a sneer. “Sorry to cut the ride short.”
“I’m sorry, Mother,” said Arliss. He was in the passenger seat.
“Hermanito? What the hell is going on here?” Adreas quipped in a panic.
Mecca raised a finger to quiet her. “Go on, little brother. Tell them.”
“Mother, she has me at gunpoint. I didn’t see her coming.” He whined.
Eu’dora was quiet. She looked to Adreas and nodded gently. Adreas obediently turned around and pouted quietly. Eu’dora then turned her gaze to Mecca.
“Detective. Hello again, dear. And to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“You can start by explaining why you’re making it so easy to find you, White Witch of the North.”
Eu’dora grinned. “Look at you. Putting the names with the faces.”
“I just like to be thorough. Next topic of discussion. Zombies? You wanna walk me through the part where I don’t pull a bullet in all three of you for that shit you pulled this afternoon?”
“Certainly. Not that you could put a bullet in anyone here but, for your information, your assailant this afternoon was Number Nine. A sturdy model, but unpredictable. In my line of work, the soul imprints on the body and, even after death, certain traits persist. That man was a tenacious brute in life and, this is relevant to your concern, a protective one. I only keep my favorite dolls nearby and that one just, well, got away from me.”
“Bullshit,” Mecca said with a cynical laugh. “But whatever. See, this is the end of the line for you. I’ve got you and you’re either going on ice or the Vatican is going to execute you on the spot when the templars get here.”
“I’m sure they would if they could, beloved,” Eu’dora said calmly.
To which, Mecca replied, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that a woman like me has learned a thing or two that she’d be happy to teach you.”
“Pass.”
“No, really. I could teach you a lot of things. You are a detective, correct? You have questions and you know that I have answers. That’s why you came here alone and why Trevelan’s son is the only one who knows you’re here.” Mecca flinched. Eu’dora chuckled. “That WAS Billy on the wire, right, dear?”
“I’m not falling for whatever racket you’ve got going. William, call this in. I’ve got her. The Santiago Twins are-“
“He can’t hear you, you know.”
Mecca flinched again. Arliss noticed her hesitation. The limo driver's door snapped open, and Mecca, who wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, was sent careening from her seat. She landed on her back. She was stunned. Whatever pushed had hit like a van going forty-five miles per hour, and the wind was taken from her. Eu’dora lowered the window to peer out at her as Arliss slid into the driver’s side, reignited the engine, and shut the door with a slam. Mecca sat up and aimed her borrowed service pistol from the ground at Eu’dora’s face. Eu’dora, unphased, chuckled with amusement.
“Let’s continue our conversation at the LeBlanc Building. I’d offer to let you ride with us, but I’m afraid there’s no room. Ciao.”
The window rolled up. The limo sped up and took off into the street. She watched them drive away without firing or giving chase. Stragglers in the parking lot guffawed in the distance. She put the gun back into the holster beneath her jean jacket.
Meccs, where have you been? You went totally off grid just now.
Mecca sighed. “I’ll tell you while I’m driving. Billy.”
He said nothing. He understood. There was work to do, nevermind what she called him.
She stood, dusted herself off, and headed back towards where she parked the public safety vehicle she borrowed.
Dylan Jabari walked onto the stage, and they cheered.
The air was warm and cozy, like an embryo waiting to become someone new. Everyone felt the familiarity of a good night. There had been countless good nights before this one, but this was the first where the moon was high, and the sky was bright as noon. This particular good night had to be a celebration of lies because everyone from the scumbags to the socialities needed an illusion to distract them. There was fear bore in the uncertainty, and that fear begets tension which leads to liquor then weed, or coke, or mushrooms. In that mass hysteric emotional delusion was a man in the spotlight, bare-chested and full of something like magic. The room, a living beast of bodies and architecture, settled from adulation to admiration.
In the hush, he started to sing.
If I am to be your martyr. Then, tear down the cross that bore me.
Cry out my name and mimic my journey. I want rage, a fight, and melancholy.
I ask not for peace but chaos. Let nothing man-made function.
Shut down the city, and burn all the money. Let there be a revolution.
The spell was cast. Those people, those bodies, were bound. The music, an electronic cacophony of funk and synthesis and syncopation and freedom, fell out of the band and onto every person in earshot. An antithesis to panic was woven. Dylan, the head of the beast, fired his words on the rhythm, twisting phrase and sound with every desperate clinging part of him. There was dancing, in the sparse space left to do so in front of the pulpit. The congregation rejoiced. The secular sermon summoned something serendipitous. And then it was over.
After one song, Dylan Jabari left the stage.
I left the stage.
I realized that I was watching myself in the third person, a reader of a story that someone else was writing, and it shook me so hard that I had to get out of there. I was back in my own body, into my own perspective, and back into lingering, heavy, dark thoughts about the Paladin and Witches and, most of all, the only man I’ve ever loved.
The red sky greeted me as I stormed out of the backstage exit. The parking lot was thankfully empty as everyone had run back inside from their cigarettes, joints, and blunts to see the show. We were inside a barrier, so it was safe, but it didn’t feel like it. No one wanted to hang out. They wanted the illusion. The backing band would jam for a while. They didn’t need me. So, I walked. I didn’t have a destination, I just walked, sword wound tight in my fist, and cried. I cried until I couldn’t see, and even then, I cried some more.
I heard a sound that I thought was a voice. I wiped my face and then turned to see Ran. I opened my mouth to answer him, but nothing came out. Even if it did, it would have been nonsense. I didn’t, or couldn’t, hear him. He spoke again. I forced myself to listen.
“Hey, they’re going crazy in there! That was fantastic! You okay? Why did you leave?”
I took a deep breath. And the words came, as did the tears. “Perseus was here. He was in the dressing room. I tried to fight him. He fucked me up. He told me that if I go kill the witch then he’ll make it so I’m not a templar anymore and he wouldn’t fuck with you. I’m sorry, man. I’m so fucked up. I’m such a fuck up. I’m sorry.”
And he didn’t say anything back, and I didn’t see his face because of the embrace. His arms were around me and I sobbed and screamed into his chest. I hadn’t screamed with all my might like that since Raphael’s funeral. I was howling. My legs were weak. I wanted to dissolve into the Earth. I wanted the pain to stop. Ran was there. He had me. I felt like I had let him down by killing Raphael. I felt like he was in trouble now, somehow, and wouldn’t tell me because of my own weakness. I felt like I had failed in being a friend, or rather, an older brother. He must have known that I felt this way. He didn’t say anything until I was out of breath. He gently pushed me away and held my shoulders. He’d grown. In the entire few hours that he’d been here, I hadn’t noticed that he was a little taller than me now. He was different. He was more mature. He was a man now. It was okay to trust him.
He smiled, and he said, “Do you feel better now?”
I nodded, and replied, “I hate feeling like this so fucking much.”
He patted my shoulders. “Who wouldn’t? I miss Ralphie too. I still get nightmares, you know, like, every once in a while, but I’ve been good. I cope. I understand.” He laughed. I appreciated the change in mood. I needed brevity. “So, Paladin Perseus and I are both upsetting your vibe, huh?”
I laughed back as I tried to get the tear streaks off my face with the heels of my palms. “Well, you’re just annoying. I was never upset with you.”
“You’re just saying that ‘cause I let you cry on my bosom. This perfectly good shirt is ruined, you sad bitch.”
“Oh, shut the fuck up.” I laughed again. It felt good.
“So, you ready to go back in there?” He asked while half turning to take off back to the bar.
I shook my head no. “I think I’ve got something better to do. We’ve got something better to do.”
He stared at me for a moment, then tilted his head and asked, “I don’t get it.”
“I’ve decided to follow the witch. Didn’t you want to do it together? Last job, right?”
He clapped gleefully and squealed. “Time to hunt!”
“No, I don’t know if I’m killing anybody tonight. I just want to find her. See what happens. I need to see this through, but I haven’t decided if I’m willing to kill anybody else ever again.”
He put his hands on his hips and said, “Fine, fine, fine. I respect your boundaries, man. Let’s roll. I parked across the street in the desert.”
“Bet,” was all I could offer as I followed.