Brutal Asset, page 9
I laughed. “Not so much. If anything I do a lot of your kind of work, your specialty work that is,” I answered.
He nodded slowly. “That would make sense, Peter just never said anything about your…connections.”
I glanced at Peter who looked a mixture of curious and chagrined.
“Peter and I haven’t had a lot of communication for the last year or so. He didn’t know about it either,” I said. Lydia gave me a hand wave toward the door and I spoke again. “Listen, I think we’re headed out now. We’ll drop the Arroyos at the hotel. You guys have rides?”
Peter nodded, “I rode with Father Amos.”
I said goodbye. Lydia and I exited the apartment and headed to the limo.
Chapter 14
I was expecting questions, but oddly, both Lydia and Tanya were quiet after dropping off the Arroyos. I watched Tanya, wondering about her generosity toward the three downtrodden women. Despite being a vampire and the only natural born one at that, Tanya wasn't cold hearted. But she also wasn't particularly interested in most humans either. The Coven supported many charities throughout the city, but that just made good business sense. Tax deductions and the good public relations are strong corporate motivators for donations to non-profits. Tanya took an active interest in my god daughter, Toni, perhaps even a bit overboard, but other than that she wasn't usually inclined to intervene in regular people's lives.
She spun around to face me. “What?” she demanded, my bond telling me she felt defensive at my staring.
I held both hands up in peace. “Nothing, just wondering about the hotel and job and all,” I said, arching one eyebrow.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “You object that I helped them?” she asked, voice deceptively quiet.
Now I could feel that she was mad, hurt and a bit resentful. The bond is a great thing for getting emotions right, at least what I receive, but it doesn't tell me why she feels the way she does.
“Of course not! I think it's great! I just didn't see it coming, that's all,” I deflected.
She accepted my answer, but I could tell she didn't want to let go of her feelings quite yet. Which seemed odd. The information that flows to me from her is not as detailed as what the bond sends to her. And I had gotten more emotions within the last twenty-four hours than ever before, and conflicting ones at that . Granted her personality had grown and expanded as much in the last year as my physical and paranormal abilities had. But after three weeks away, I was having trouble keeping up.
“Listen, what you did will help them long term. That's more than I could do,” I said, settling back into the soft car seat. Her anger flared again and I looked up to meet her sparking blue eyes.
“What?” I demanded, defensive myself.
“More than you could do?” she intoned, with an edge. “You exorcised the freaking demon that was destroying all their lives!”
I realized she thought I was patronizing her. Intentionally downplaying my role. I shook my head.
“No, no! That's not what I meant,” I said, quickly. “Yes I got rid of the demon, that's what I do! But I have no power to help them long term. Hell, the reason the demon was there in the first place was because of their economic situation.”
Lydia had stayed quiet during our unfortunate conversation; though her hard stare had told me whose side she was on. Now she spoke. “What do you mean? What does their income have to do with demons?”
It seemed overly obvious to me, but then I considered my audience. Wealth beyond most people's comprehension can cloud even vampire perceptions.
I took a deep breath, centering myself and putting aside my shock at the abrupt changes I was sensing in Tanya.
“Demons are drawn to pain, suffering, and despair, mostly despair. Being poor to begin with, then having your mother lose her job would have been really tough on a teenager like Brandeye. To a demon, it would have been like free withdrawals at a blood bank would be to a Darkkin,” I explained. “Giving Yana a job, a clean hotel room for the night and a clean home to come back to was huge! I don't have those resources.”
Hell, I didn't even have a job anymore. I lived off my parents' trust fund, which was okay, especially as I had given up my apartment in Brooklyn. Tanya and Senka had given me a couple of shares in the Coven, but I didn't touch that. I didn't actually work for the government; they just cleared my way and picked up after me, although most of my expenses were picked up by either the Coven or General Creek's department. So, overall, my financial situation was fine, but nothing like the economic power that Tanya and Lydia wielded.
They both settled back, mollified, but now I was locked in a thought train, heading down the tracks of self assessment. No job, no career, I just killed weres full time. Not much of a contribution to society.
The people I had known in high school and college were all out in the world, building careers and families, while I just banished demons, killed evil motorcycle weres and struggled with an inner demon that made the rest seem like puppies. Sure, I had a girl now, which I had never anticipated, but while she affected the lives of millions of people with her business decisions, I was just a killer.
“Stop that!” Tanya said. “Don't even go there!”
I turned to meet her serious gaze. Couldn't even feel sorry for myself without getting yelled at.
Her eyes widened for a moment, then softened. “You idiot! You wield God's power, for heaven's sake. How much more of a positive impact on the world do you need to feel good about yourself?” Her tone was affectionate if exasperated.
“What? He better not be feeling sorry for himself” Lydia warned, her green eyes flashing.
“You're gonna tell me what I can feel now?” I demanded from the spiky haired little vamp.
“Apparently I have to, 'cause you don't appear smart enough on your own!” she said.
My anger sank under a weight of sudden confusion.
“Where did all this come from? Why are you two suddenly mad at me? You wanted to see me exorcise a demon, you saw, and now you’re both mad at me, what the fuck?” I was seriously confused, a fact that passed to Tanya through our link.
“You don't know? You honestly don't know?” she asked, although she must know that I didn't.
I shook my head.
Her gaze turned thoughtful. “What's it like? When you rip a demon out,” she asked.
That came from left field.
“I don't know, maybe like wrestling or jiu-jitsu. Sudden contact, exerting leverage and force, like that!” I finished lamely.
“What do you feel?”
“Like I just won a grapple, an intense grapple.”
“That's it?”
“Well no. I feel scared, that I'm gonna fail this time, and when I don't, I feel a bit elated or maybe satisfied, that I got it right,” I said.
Both were looking at me in disbelief.
“You don't feel the tone?” Lydia asked.
“The what?” I asked.
“The tone! There was a sound, or maybe just the feeling of a sound, a pitch that passed clear through us when you pulled out the demon. And when that shadow bird or whatever it was came through there was a …..sensation.” she said. Tanya was nodding.
“Oh, yeah, Gina said something like that once. And so did Benson and the others. I don't know anything about that. I've never heard it or felt it or whatever,” I said, which was true. “They said it was a weird, kinda religious feeling, or something.”
Both vampires nodded. “Well, I don’t get any of that. Too busy I guess,” I shrugged. “Why is that important?”
“Because you twit, everybody around you feels a pretty awesome God-is –with-us type moment and you were the one who did it. Makes us regular types feel insignificant. Then you complain about how little you contribute? Well, that just pisses people off!” Lydia ranted.
“Oh,” I said. That would make sense, although I still didn’t understand the ‘God moment’ they were talking about. “Listen, I’m just a tool. I may use the aura or whatever but I’m still just his minion. Not like I’m Ghandi or Mother Theresa or something.”
“No shit, Mr. Wizard!” Lydia said with a snort.”But you got the tool part right!”
That was good, that little shot. It pretty much told me we were back on an even keel. So of course I had to keep poking, couldn’t help myself.
“I’m still curious. And at the risk of getting in more hot water, why did you offer Yana a job? The clean up and hotel stay would have been a big help. But the job part was huge.”
Tanya didn’t answer for a second, which caused me some worry, although the link was reporting that she was just thinking the answer through, not getting angry.
“They were tough. Ready to do whatever was necessary to help Brandeye. They were grateful and showed it. Despite the demon, the apartment showed that they took care of themselves. They are fighters!” she concluded, partly to herself. I nodded with each point.
“Got it,” I said, settling back. Tanya did admire a good fighter.
“We gotta get you home, it’s late and you have an early day,” Lydia spoke suddenly.
“What?”
“Tomorrow is Wednesday. You’re taking Toni to Kindergarten for Visitors day, remember?” the little vamp said, gleefully watching my reaction.
“Oh crap! That’s tomorrow?” I had completely forgotten my promise to Gina and Toni. Tanya laughed at my panicked expression.
“Come on hero, if you can bitch slap a demon, how hard can Kindergarten be?”
Chapter 15
If you’re used to being around children then you already know, but if you’re like me and don’t have a lot experience with kids then let me tell you this – five year olds can talk. Boy can they talk.
Toni kept up a running dialogue the entire five block walk to her school. She covered the most important things first – her wardrobe. She was wearing a flower print dress, with black shoes and white socks. But she almost went with the sky blue dress with the black belt and the same shoes, or the white dress with a fuzzy grey sweater over it if it had been cooler. Then we discussed my wardrobe – khakis, with a polo shirt and brown shoes. That was a short conversation. She told me about Mrs. Brint, her teacher, who was apparently just married. She explained class duties, such as the weather board, cleaning up the reading nook, the morning announcements and feeding the class fish. Her favorite was the fish feeding gig, apparently there was a lot of action when the dried flakes of food hit the surface of the water. She loved the reading nook, where you got to look at books and someone was selected every day to pick out the class stories that Mrs. Brint would read aloud.
She explained attendance which was recorded by every student putting a green card in the little cardboard pocket on the attendance wall as they arrived. Her dark chocolate brown eyes were very serious as she revealed the secrets to avoiding having your green card get replaced with a yellow or, heaven forbid, a red card. She had never been down that road, herself, but Teagan Taylor was a recurring offender. Apparently, he had difficulty with keeping quiet and minding to his own business.
I’m sure there was a lot more on her list of topics but five blocks really isn’t that far. It was a tad surreal, walking with the tiny, energetic creature; her little hand holding mine. I listened to her running monologue with one ear, while keeping Grim’s protective instincts in check. Every pedestrian, every bicycle that went by was catalogued, examined for threat potential and then ignored. Every car that drove by or failed to stop as we started to cross risked sudden annihilation. It was a bit tiring.
So I was glad when the Monroe elementary school appeared at last. It was an old school that had undergone a rebirth. The faltering national and state economies had been brutal on schools and the Monroe had almost failed. Maybe it had, I’m not truly clear on that. I do know it had been purchased by a private company, renovated and reopened as a private school that promised the latest education techniques and the best technology available. Cutting edge, but not elitist, it offered K through third grade at a fairly reasonable price. I wasn’t sure how that would work out, but the principal, who was new this year, seemed very enthusiastic about its prospects.
The new principal was standing on the front steps of the old sandstone building, greeting all the children and their visiting family members. Toni plunked to a stop in front of him, waiting till he was done talking to another child’s mother. Big and burly, with a thick black beard, he was an imposing figure, or would have been if his formidable appearance wasn’t softened by his huge smile and booming laugh. He finally turned to greet us. “Ah, Toni, you’re here! And who is this man that you’ve brought with you?”
“Come on Dad, you know Mr. Chris!” she said in a tone that was remarkably similar to her mother’s. Roy Velasquiz smiled even wider and laughed, reaching out to shake my hand. Roy had been handpicked by the new owners of the Monroe school, brought to their attention, no doubt, by his actions as Assistant Principal at I.S. 341 the past spring.
“Chris, thank you for coming as Toni’s guest. Believe it or not, it hasn’t been easy on her, having me as the principal. Huh, kiddo?” he asked.
“I’m not allowed to call him Dad, or Papa or run up and hug him in front of the other kids, on account of it would make them sad,” she explained, knowing the words but still uncertain of the reason.
“Well, I can honestly say that I’ve never been a guest at Kindergarten before, so it’ll be ….interesting, I’m sure,” I said, uncertain of the day in front of me.
“Come on Chris, I hardly think this counts as too harsh an adventure for someone of your background,” he said with a grin. Roy knew quite a bit about me, being married to my handler and all, not to mention he had witnessed my abilities first hand in I.S. 341.
Another parent and child combo moved up to claim his attention, and Toni pulled me further into her school. Kindergarten classes were all on the first floor of the old three story building, so our walk was short. We found her cubby where she could hang her raincoat or winter jacket as the seasons advanced, and then she showed me into her classroom. Her teacher, Mrs. Brint, was handing out visitor ID cards to parents, grandparents and favored relatives as each child brought them in. Toni pulled me up to the young woman, who paused slightly at the sight of my violet eyes. She recovered quickly, smiled as she welcomed me and gave me my pass. She wasn’t much older than me, maybe a year or two. Small, with short black hair that was cut to hang straight by her face, she had hazel eyes and wore a black knit dress.
Toni handled the green card attendance thing and we settled by her desk. Happily, adult sized folding chairs had been added to the class décor and I claimed one for my own. I had been fixating on a mental image of myself crammed into a child sized desk set the whole time I had showered and dressed.
The morning was consumed by the class’s regular routine. Children took turns at various tasks, worked with numbers and letters, added words to their word wall, and then it was story time.
“Toni, do you think your guest would read to the class? Mrs. Brint asked from out of left field.
“Oh yes!” Toni answered for me. She ran to the reading nook and came back with a Clifford the big red dog, a Dr. Seuss book (Green Eggs and Ham) and something about an old man and his old orange cat. I focused on the kids and tried to ignore the other adults, particularly, the other teachers that found some reason to poke their heads in and converse quietly with Mrs. Brint.
Lunch saved me from any further performances. Hot turkey, with mashed potatoes and gravy. Not bad, just not enough of it. I snuck two pemmican bars from the stash we had put in Toni’s school bag.
After lunch we began a mini herb garden project. Using waxed paper cups, potting soil, and seeds each adult and child team planted basil, oregano and thyme, labeled the cups and packed them for transport in paper lunch bags. The mini gardens were a variation on a class project, so the kids carefully showed the adults that they knew all the steps. After that, Mrs. Brint had each child stand and tell the class, why they were glad that their particular adult was visiting.
When it was Toni’s turn, she popped up and faced the class, very serious. “I am glad that Mr. Chris is here today because he is my godfather, he is funny and he keeps me safe,” she said, her fingers touching the little bear necklace Tanya and I had given her. The class applauded and she sat back down, but I was still frozen at her words. ‘He keeps me safe’ echoed through my head, the solemn expression etched in my mind’s eye. Did I really keep her safe? Or was she in much, much greater danger for even knowing me? I had to think it was the latter and my heart was in my throat as I thought of any harm coming to her.
“Thanks again for coming, Mr. Gordon,” the teacher said, breaking my introspection.
“Oh, ah, thanks for having me. It was fun!” I said, trying to snap back to present. The class was done, adults and children gathering school things and bags of herb cups in preparation for dismissal.
