The Victorious Redemption Complete Series Boxed Set, page 78
Jasmine waved a hand. “No, it’s fine. Apparently, today is my day to help everyone out of every situation that seems to have popped up overnight. It’s not like I have my own shit going on,” she grumbled.
“Sorry,” Perry offered, and Jasmine could tell he meant it.
“Don’t worry,” Jasmine shot back. “Once I’ve dealt with Eddy’s issue, I’ll get around to seeing your guy and sorting that out, too. Hey, maybe at some point today, I’ll also get a chance to do my things, too. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Perry stared at Jasmine.
“What?” Jasmine asked.
He shuffled awkwardly on his seat. “It’s just…well… My guy is already waiting outside for you. In my truck. I was kind of hoping you’d be able to take him off my hands since I don’t know how much more damage my hands could take.”
Jasmine leveled her stare at Perry. “He’s outside?”
An explosion of sound erupted from outside the Nest. A car alarm wailed, accompanied by the interspersed call of the car horn.
Perry gave a soft shrug and chuckled.
Jasmine pinched her brow. A dull thud pounded inside her head. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, wondering what she had done to curse the universe into handing her three shit sandwiches in one day.
CHAPTER THREE
Jasmine exited the Nest with her bag over her arm and turned toward the source of the noise and chaos.
A man sat in the passenger side of the car, flailing as he attempted to turn off the wailing alarms. People stopped by in the street to stare, but no one sprang to help.
Jasmine looked down at Perry, who offered a crooked smile.
Jasmine went to the car, and the alarm silenced the moment she rested her hand on the open window and looked in on the cursed man in question. He was attractive in a strange, disheveled way. His thick hair flowed in waves, a few strands out of place after the chaos of car alarms. He wore a plain blue shirt, the top few buttons popped to reveal tanned skin beneath. Something almost Mediterranean in his complexion drew Jasmine’s eye.
He laughed awkwardly, looking up at his visitor. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Jasmine replied. “You must be the cursed dude.”
“I am. I’m Loukas Galanos. Most people just call me ‘Lou.’”
Jasmine offered her hand. “Well, Lou, I’m Jasmine Vironsis. It seems that I’m going to be your chaperone for the foreseeable future.”
Lou looked warily at Jasmine’s hand, tucking his own beneath his armpits. “With the greatest respect, I’d avoid direct contact with me. It seems that skin-to-skin only magnifies the curse on those who I come in contact with. For the sake of this journey, I’d suggest that we keep a distance from each other as much as possible.”
Jasmine looked around the cramped vehicle. “That’s going to be somewhat difficult, given the circumstance.” She cocked a thumb down the road. “How about you hop into my SUV? There’s a bit more space in there. Might make for a more enjoyable ride?”
Lou smiled with warm appreciation written on his face. “Thank you, Jasmine.”
Jasmine stepped back, staring daggers at the passersby still standing and watching. Lou struggled with the car door. The locks clicked themselves down, seemingly on their own. He played with the locks and managed to open the door, then tripped and stumbled. Car horns blared, and a passing Chevrolet swerved to avoid him.
Lou scurried out of the road, finding safety on the sidewalk.
Jasmine stared, wide-eyed.
Lou gave a pathetic laugh, accompanied by a half-shrug.
Perry appeared at Jasmine’s side and clapped his hands together. “Well, it looks like you’ve got everything in hand here. I’ll make myself scarce. Got a lot to do today, and I’m confident that Lou is in great hands.”
Jasmine examined Lou. She felt sorry for him, seeing the sadness in his eyes. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to go home to family and those you loved and cause them harm. He was doing the right thing, keeping his distance until things were fixed, but that didn’t mean she was looking forward to what was to come.
“Fine,” Jasmine told Perry. “I’ll take it from here.”
Perry beamed and turned on his heels. He hurried to his car, giving Lou a wide berth. After a few false starts with the ignition, the car kicked into gear. Perry sighed in relief, then turned the car onto the road. He cast a quick wave and then was gone.
“Come on,” Jasmine instructed Lou. “I’m parked just up here.”
Lou sped to catch up with Jasmine. She held out a hand. “Maybe wait a few steps behind, yeah? Give us some distance to make this easier.”
Lou agreed with a nod of his head.
Jasmine popped the trunk and threw her bag inside, then stepped aside to allow Lou to do the same. She climbed into the driver’s side, and a moment later, Lou took his spot beside her.
They sat a moment in silence. Although there was nothing she could see, Jasmine felt the warped energy around him like static in the air. She studied Lou, wondering what kind of man he was. Given his association with Dimitri and Nicholas, she knew appearances might be deceiving. This man was a mobster at heart, but to what extent did she have to worry? Dimitri and Nicholas seemed to keep themselves to the side of moral good, but did that hold true for the rest of their clan?
As she buckled in for the drive, she thought about her own journey, wondering at how complicated it was to define a person. Jasmine knew she always kept moral good at heart, but perhaps certain things she had done could be interpreted in different ways. She had fought and killed and died along her journey, but wasn’t there also the other side of the coin? Didn’t the people she killed have families and friends who may have considered her victims “good”? What did it mean to be good in a world that tried to cast you as black and white when the truth was that everything in life was a variation of gray?
Lou strapped himself in beside her and rested his head back on the seat. He was tense, fingers curled into fists, and although Jasmine told him to relax, she knew that he wouldn’t.
“I’ll relax when I’m clear of this damn curse,” Lou complained. “You haven’t had to live with it for as long as I have. Soon you’ll see the true pain of it, and then you can tell me to relax.”
Jasmine frowned. “I really hope not.”
She pulled onto the road. She was cautious at first, occasionally glancing at Lou beside her. The car moved smoothly, and traffic was gentle as they took a right at the end of the street.
“It’s quicker to get to NYC that way.” Lou jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
“We’re not going NYC,” Jasmine replied. “Not yet, anyway. I’ve got something I need to see first before we get out and onto the road.”
Lou shifted uneasily. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“It’ll be fine. It’s only a quick visit. I’ve got to see an old friend and get some information. Once that’s done, we’ll be on our merry way, trust me.”
They cruised to an intersection, and Jasmine slowed the car when the lights turned red.
“I’d really rather we did this sooner than later,” Lou persisted.
Jasmine waved a hand, checking her rearview. “We’ll be fine. It won’t take long. I promise.”
Lou looked down at his lap, where his fingers interlaced together. “I just want to get back to my son, man. You don’t know what it’s like. To know that you’ve inflicted pain on your own family. The sooner I can clear this curse, the sooner I can hug without worry, kiss without panic.” He shook his head, and his eyes filled with tears. “To watch your own kid suffer because of something you’ve done…that’s the worst kind of curse.”
Jasmine nodded softly. “I can understand that.” She didn’t go into detail about her own pains, about her grandmother and her father and her mother and all the pain she had felt and had inflicted over the years. Lou didn’t need that information right now. “But I promise you, this should be quick. You can stay in the car, out of harm’s way, while I deal with this.”
“Yeah, because that worked real well last time,” Lou shot back, shaking his head again. “This curse has to be the nastiest thing any person could do to another.”
Jasmine raised her eyebrows, a small smile on her lips. “Coming from a certified mobster, that’s a real interesting statement.”
Lou met her gaze. “Hmmm… I guess I thought that you might understand us better than that. That you wouldn’t be so reductionist.”
Jasmine scoffed. “Hey, I’ve worked with your people. I know you guys. Sometimes I even respect the line of business that you’re in and what you do for people. Maybe that’s just because of how low my standards have become in this town. But I’m under no illusions here, Lou. You’re a criminal associated with a criminal organization. You guys can sit in your chairs on your porch with whiskey in hand and call each other brothers or family or friends, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a bona fide criminal. Now, I’m not going to turn you in or be the one who hands you over to the cops. Lord knows I’ve done my fair share of shit, but that’s where we’re at. You’re a criminal, and this is a business favor on behalf of some friends who have helped me out of some sticky situations. Do you understand that?”
Lou smirked and looked out the window. “Man… They told me that you’d be a straight shooter, but nobody mentioned that you had such a chip on your shoulder.”
Jasmine exhaled slowly. “Sorry…just a rough start to my day, I suppose. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Ain’t we all?” Lou asked, not expecting an answer.
He didn’t get one.
Jasmine drove toward the homeless shelter. Her throat grew dry at the prospect of revisiting the place she’d gone on the first day of her awakening. The world had been confusing, and she had stumbled her way through the city to find the shelter closed for the night. She had banged on the door until the kindly owner, Susanna, had allowed her after-hours entry and given her a bed.
Things were so different now. She hadn’t understood the true extent of her powers then. She had been frightened and confused and alone, laying in her bed, her dreams spiraling out of control during the brief moments of sleep she could snatch. She sensed the fear of the others inside the shelter. Thankfully, that was a power that wore off, the way a keen blade dulls with use. It had been in that shelter she’d first learned the effectiveness of pepper in food. It was there that she first met Eddy. Two henchmen had been dragging him outside.
Eddy was her first true friend in her new form. Through Eddy, she had been introduced indirectly to Jemaine.
Lost in her thoughts, Jasmine navigated automatically.
About a mile away from the Nest, the first of the problems arose.
The silence was broken by the radio turning itself on. The frequency turned to static, and a sharp shot of noise blared. Jasmine jumped and jabbed at the dashboard. Lou leaped into action and also reached for the radio. Their hands brushed against each other’s, and at that moment, the traffic ahead stopped.
Jasmine slammed her foot on the brake, and Lou cried out in alarm. The car skidded, almost hitting the vehicle in front. With the sudden jerking action, Jasmine’s bone claws shot out from her fingers, and the hard bone drove through the cheap metal and plastic radio casing.
The car behind her blared its horn as though this were Jasmine’s fault, and when Jasmine pulled her hand back, the radio stuck fast to her claws. She held the box in front of her, wires trailing to the back of the system, the digital face of the radio extinguished as she turned to Lou.
“A curse of clumsiness?”
Lou nodded, embarrassed.
Jasmine sighed. “If this is how it starts, this is going to be a long trip, isn’t it?”
Lou met Jasmine’s gaze. “As I told you, I really need to get to New York.”
Jasmine exhaled through gritted teeth as she retracted her claws. The radio dropped into the central console, and Lou tried to fit it back into the vacant space. After a few more failed attempts, Jasmine barked, “Just leave it.”
Lou let the box drop into his footwell, then turned to look out the window.
The rest of the journey could be described as “bumpy.” Nothing so dramatic as the first instance occurred, but small things kept going wrong. A window wound itself down, then back up. The rearview mirror fell from its hold. As they neared the homeless shelter, the turn signal stopped working, although Jasmine finally got it working again.
By the time they arrived, Jasmine was at the end of her rope. She fought with the door handle and finally emerged onto the sidewalk, then took a long breath when she realized she’d caught the hem of her jacket in the door. She pulled it free, then addressed Lou. “Stay in the car. Do not open the door. Do not leave. Do not move. Try not to break anything until I’m done, okay?”
Lou rolled his eyes. “Yes. I know.”
“Good.” Jasmine turned to leave.
Lou called after her. “You know, just because I’m cursed, that doesn’t mean that you can’t still say please.”
Jasmine didn’t look back as she walked toward the shelter. Before she reached the door, her feet caught on the sidewalk, and she tripped, falling face-first on the ground. Her forehead smacked the hard concrete as a rush of pain swelled from the site. She picked herself up and rubbed at the spot. The pain was already gone, though a large bump was raised.
Jasmine closed her eyes, composing herself. The bump would heal soon enough, but she imagined what it would be like if she didn’t have her powers. Only a short drive with Lou had tested her patience, caused her physical harm, and potentially cost hundreds of dollars’ worth of damage to her vehicle.
She looked over her shoulder to Lou, who was doggedly avoiding her gaze.
She shook her head and entered the shelter, moving more cautiously than before.
The place was quiet when she entered, and the air was cool compared to the growing heat outside. Her feet clipped against the tiled floor as she approached the reception counter where a young woman not far out of her teens was shuffling piles of paper.
Jasmine paused by the counter, waiting for the woman to notice her.
The woman kept her gaze down, searching for something among the scribbles written on the documents. Jasmine’s nose wrinkled at a strange smell coming from a doorway to her left. She remembered that was the direction of the canteen area, where she had sat late that night eating peppery mush from a bowl.
After another minute, Jasmine cleared her throat.
The woman glanced up without lifting her head. “Can I help you?”
Jasmine didn’t like the tone the woman was using with her. It was a far cry from the soothing sounds of the cheery Susanna, a woman who oozed friendliness and comfort.
“I’m hoping you can,” Jasmine replied. “I’m looking for Susanna.”
“Susanna’s not here anymore.” The woman looked back down at her papers.
Jasmine cleared her throat again, this time resting her elbows on the counter.
The woman clicked her tongue. “Yes?”
“Where is she?” Jasmine asked.
The woman blew air through her lips. “No idea. Only know of her through old paperwork. Gone now, though. Tony’s in charge these days.”
Before she could return to her papers, Jasmine added, “Well, can I speak to Tony then, please?”
The woman frowned.
Fueled by a strike of inspiration, Jasmine added, “I’m a journalist from the Boston Gazette. I’ve been sent to work on a report about civil service workers. You know, to highlight the unsung heroes of the city and to raise the profile of those working tirelessly within the city to improve things and make this world a brighter place.”
The girl eyed her suspiciously. “The Boston Gazette?”
“You heard that right,” Jasmine confirmed. “Can I speak to Tony about the role this place is playing in improving the surrounding city?”
The woman took a long breath, then sighed as if Jasmine had asked her to run a marathon. “Hold on.”
She picked up the receiver of an ancient, yellowed phone that may once have been white. After a few rings, she spoke. “Miss Guerrero? There’s a reporter here to see you.”
Jasmine couldn’t catch the reply.
The receptionist spoke again. “A report on civil workers. Wants to talk about the impact of the shelter.”
Another muffled reply came from the receiver.
She held the phone on her shoulder and asked Jasmine, “You’re not a cop?”
Jasmine frowned. “No.”
The woman nodded. “She says no. Okay. Thank you.”
With some effort, she rose to her feet, knocking several pages to the floor with her knees. She didn’t bat an eyelid at the mess, only skirted the desk toward Jasmine. “This way, please.”
Jasmine followed the receptionist through the door toward the canteen. The receptionist walked slowly and made no attempt at small talk, for which Jasmine was thankful. She wasn’t sure she could have managed small talk. This place had fallen into ruin. The threadbare carpets were stained and crusted with food, crumbs, and God-knew-what else. The poster boards on the walls hung crooked and held out-of-date information. The stale smell in the air could have been food or sweat or both, and Jasmine wondered the last time the place had been properly cleaned. Under Susanna’s watch, this place had served its purpose as a point of safety and shelter for the city’s homeless. Now, it was more like an infected wound. Compared to the other sites Eddy’s influence had reached, this was a veritable shithole.
They passed through another door and into the canteen. Jasmine couldn’t help but hold a hand to her nose as they traipsed through. A few of the city’s homeless were dotted around the space, and the tables were covered in trash and spilled foodstuffs. A cook worked behind a counter that had once been gleaming silver and was now tarnished with splatters of black.
The receptionist seemed to notice none of this as she led Jasmine down the corridor. She had once chased Eddy and his compatriots down this hallway.
The corridor was strewn with laundry items, crumpled shirts, towels, bedding, and a number of items Jasmine couldn’t identify. She shook her head in disgust, trying to keep her composure as they approached a door marked “Manager.”
