Raw stood between the bath and the bed area, facing sideways a little, with an expression of deep thought.
“Hey,” I said, walking gently up to him. “You’re not angry with me, are you?”
He turned his head slowly, coming up from depths and decompressing as he rose, “No.”
“Good, because I wouldn’t want that.”
A flicker of confusion came and cleared. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“Not afraid — it’s not fear, it’s desire, Raw. I wouldn’t like it, that I had upset you,” I said, hoping it was convincing enough, because he did scare me. His size was just wrong. His strength equally upsetting, just standing next to him. “While they’re busy, could you fill me in on a few things?”
Raw looked over to the bed, “Slate is …”
“No,” I said, interrupting him. “I don’t want an apple pie recipe and the history of your family back to the Big Bang. I just want a few answers.”
Raw turned back to me, amusement in his eyes, “Apple pie? Where did you hear that? He does that, you know. Everything is a pie.”
I looked around Raw to the bed. “He looks like a pie man. So, maybe just a couple of answers, before I get the lecture and get taken to the kitchen?”
He appeared to have some issues with being the answer person, but after some internal struggle he nodded. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all I need. If I need more I’ll ask Slate or Ore, right?” I said, putting my hand on his, and marveling at the size difference. Holy fuck!
This little assurance relaxed him further. “Right.”
“Right,” I agreed. “Ok, do you know who C-Source is?”
His eyebrows came together, but he nodded. I don’t think he was expecting such a direct question. Something about being aliens or something along those lines, maybe. But I really didn’t care what planet they were from. They were here, where I was, and I needed to survive. We could get into those discussions with beers on the beach sometime.
Raw reconsidered something before he spoke. “We need to find him. He’s dangerous.”
“Why? What makes him dangerous?” I asked, pulling him over to a long couch to sit with me.
He looked at the couch, and then to me. “Because he’s a power. Or at least we think he is.”
“And you are a power, right? So, C-Source is like you?”
“No, he’s nothing like me.”
“So, what is he?”
“I don’t know.”
I sat down, pulling him gently to join me, which after a doubtful assessment of the couch he did. “It’s like a black hole,” he said, sitting slowly, listening to the couch take his weight.
I wasn’t really up on my galactic physics or whatever the fuck covered black holes, “In what way?”
After a moment, divining he wasn’t going to crush the furniture, he spoke. “You can’t see them. They’re black.”
“Right…?” I prompted.
“But you can see what they do. You can see where everything goes black. How fast, how big, how much.”
“Ah,” I said. “Hey, that’s really good. I’m going to use that.”
He turned to me. “Use it?”
“I’m a writer,” I said, somewhat proudly. “A reporter.”
He nodded. “A good one.”
“You’ve read my stuff?” I asked, marveling at my ego, and vanity in this situation. Did I really have no sense of priority at all?
“All of it,” he said, looking over at the bed.
Wow! “Seriously? All of it?”
“Back to your poem book,” he agreed, returning his attention to me.
“The one I did in high school? No, you didn’t read that. No one reads that. No one.”
“I did,” he smiled. Then he looked up slightly, and quoted, “Over lake surface, swallows churn, sunlight bugs the trout yearning, rising…”
I threw up my hands, “Ok, ok, ok, ok, I believe you. Oh my god. That’s like the worst one.”
“It really is,” he agreed, his large voice ponderous.
I squinted at him, but he didn’t seem to notice. “So, you see this person shaped black hole out there, and that person is a power. Right?”
He gives me a non-committal shrug. “Yes.”
“Why do you care?”
Raw rubbed his bearded chin, the red whiskers were thick like wire, but moved pliant under his fingers like they were soft and warm. I found myself staring at them, wanting to touch. “First, I suppose, because he wants to hurt you, but more because he doesn’t care.”
“You care, because he doesn’t care?”
At first he didn’t like that, but then he nodded. “Yes.”
“What doesn’t he care about?”
“No. It’s not a what or a subject. He doesn’t care,” he corrected me.
I had to think. Kane wasn’t the only subtle one in this family. Raw was surprisingly adept. “Do you mean that he is careless?”
He nodded, but that wasn’t telling me much.
“How?” I pressed. “Is he indifferent? Or desperate? Does he act without discrimination? Is he, unwary?”
“Remiss. Shoddy. Slapdash,” Raw explained, and I felt a little impressed.
“He’s not doing what he should, but not because he doesn’t know — rather because he doesn’t give a shit,” I offered. “He’s smoking while filling up the gas tank.”
Raw nodded to this. “Yes. He won’t burn though.”
“Everyone else will,” I finished for him.
Raw agreed by frowning, showing his deep disapproval. “Husbandry is a position of honor, and should be addressed that way.”
Husbandry? “Taking care of those in your charge?” I offered.
“Cultivation, management of resources, guidance, growth. Those in the care of a power should not fear careless acts, and whimsy,” he said, in a hushed voice reserved for the sacred. “There are plenty of threats in this world already for the mortals.”
Mortals? Now I was curious, and a little scared. “Are you, immortal?” I asked, happy to hear I didn’t squeak when I did.
His large blue eyes met mine, and he nodded. “Yes, we all are. All five.”
“Kane is immortal?”
“Yes,” he agreed, and brushed something off his thigh. “That’s why I don’t understand why we are still here, doing this. We could be gone, and going back to Inanna’s House now. The time of the Age Choosing is here, and you are safe. Let Kane pass. It’s his fault.”
***
I had no further questions. Not for Raw. For the fabric of reality and all I held to be real and true — oh I had questions. Lots and lots of questions — but nothing further from Raw. Not now.
Why Alien from another Planet, was easy to accept, and Immortal shook my spine with panic and awe, I couldn’t tell, and didn’t understand. I did shake, was shaken — had the crap shook from me. So much so that I trembled for several minutes.
Raw expressed no awareness of my state. Then he stood and walked over to the desk and looked down at the three laptops.
“Slate, we will have company soon. The police are in the lobby and coming up the stairs. Took them long enough, don’t you think?”
“They were delayed,” Slate said, his voice only half involved in communication, his full attention on Kane. “We’re just about done. He’s coming around.”
“No rush at this point,” Ore said, and walked over to the laptops as well. Standing next to his brother Raw, Ore looked like a child. “The hallways and lobby will be stuffed with people most of the night. Might as well get comfortable. We’ll need some food. Possibly drink. Misty? Do you feel like wine, or something of that nature?”
“Like maybe a bottle of whiskey and a lemon?” I asked.
Ore turned to me with a devil-may-care grin, “Ever have honey old fashions?”
“Um, no?” I ventured, and though it sounded exactly like the thing I shouldn’t indulge in right now, that look in his eye, said ‘come play with me’ with just the right amount of sparkle in them. “Might sound fun though.”
Quinn laughed, “Oh, it is Misty. It is indeed.”
I was sure I heard Slate say, “Not again.”
When the police came to the door, it was Quinn who answered, and gave them the story of the evening. Ore answered for all others, including the waiters and food bringers.
In the midst of the packed hallway, and walls decorated with bullet holes, a small party with trimmings was developed, and tables arrived laid with dishes. Service girls and young men who came in, often left with buttons undone and grins on their faces, promising to return as soon as they could manage.
It took some focus, but I realized that it wasn’t the brothers who were rubbing against the girls and boys, but only the girls and boys rubbing with each other. They were entertainment.
The brothers liked to watch, and encourage, and even enhance, but did not indulge themselves. The fray was never lurid either. Only buttons, and flirtatious hands lost their restraint, and smiles often sparkled laughter. It was, as Ore suggested, fun. Relaxing. I could even make an argument for life affirming.
Music came from somewhere, and neighbors, those who didn’t bolt out of the hotel as soon as the police suggested they could, stopped by and most stayed. Couples remained with each other, single travelers grouped up together and were a bit more involved in the flirtatious mood set by the servers.
No matter the vibration or the number of whiskey old fashions I allowed, the word immortal held the center of my mind, and my view of Kane turned from attraction to awe.
What was it about that word, immortal?
***
I woke in a cushioned chair beside Kane’s bed, who had regained his healthy color but continued to sleep during the party. What time I came in here and fell to sleep, I couldn’t recall, but Quinn was near me, waking me with my name.
“Misty, we need to leave now,” he said, his voice an unwelcome intrusion into my exhausted and intoxicated leisure.
“Alright, five more minutes,” I told him, and tried to curl up.
“In the car my dear. You may sleep in the car,” he responded, and then arms gathered me up, and I was being carried out of the room.
“You people sure don’t bother with things like personal space, do you?” I complained.
“Oh, I love personal space,” Quinn mused.
“Invading it, maybe.”
“Invading, conquering, teasing, creating, all of it. Personal space is a public fun house.” His smile was like sunlight through the morning windows — too bright and annoying to look at.
“I think you’re missing the point of its purpose.”
“No, I’m not. I hit it dead center every time,” he bragged.
He wasn’t making any sense now, and I decided to punish him for it. I’m a tall woman, with curves. I’m not light as a feather, and with my leg length, carrying me like he was took effort. I normally take pity on a guy who, in the heat of a romantic moment, sweeps me up in his arms to carry me across a threshold or into a Jacuzzi. I had no pity for this rude, dream destroying, personal space invading Spaniard. No pity at all.
Wrapping my arms loosely around his neck I laid my head down on his shoulder and feinted to go back to sleep. Ten floors up, and then a walk across the long lobby to a car. That should teach him to behave.
My sense was that he would tire by the time we were out of the room. Out in the hall I was certain he would be setting me down soon. At the elevator, when Raw said there were new threats coming up, and to take the stairs, I shifted to get ready for him to set me down.
Quinn moved down the stairs, holding me cradled in his arms, with every sign of ease and grace. At the middle of the flight, he vaulted over the railing, with me still in his arms, landing in the middle of the flight below, and then vaulted over the railing again. This time I had the chance to suck in a breath, and yipe in surprise when we landed, and then vaulted over the side again. In seconds we were on the lowest flight and descending for the door, which he kicked open and moved into the lobby, his eyes hard and scanning the area as he crossed.
When he saw Ore standing in the middle of the lobby area, calmly observing all that moved, Quinn relaxed across his shoulders, and further relaxed when he spotted Slate by the front door.
Looking back over his shoulder, I saw the elevator open and Kane standing with Raw behind him. They walked without delay or hurry, across the lobby, Ore falling in behind them when they passed his position. The three of them, after Quinn’s little demonstration of strength in the stairwell, gave me a sense of sheer power, and strength beyond anyone’s ability to estimate by looking at them now. It was not even a case of subtlety; the signs were not there at all. There was nothing about the three of them, except for Raw’s size, which could prepare anyone for the response those three could level on any threatening force.
In moments, I found myself sitting in the back of a limo-stretched Hummer. The existence of such a vehicle did all the wrong things to my Earth Day Loving soul. Abomination. Seriously! What kind of mileage could this thing get? Six, seven gallons a city block? Then Raw got into the driver’s seat, and I thought, what else could they use to cart him around? And calmed down a bit. Also, with all of us inside, it wasn’t much larger than body space required. There wasn’t a jacuzzi hanging off the back or anything of that nature.
We left, Raw guiding the massive Hummer down through the streets and toward the highway with skill and ease.
Kane sat beside me and took my hand. All the angst left my body and I leaned into his shoulder.
Once on the freeway, Kane turned to me, his thumb now massaging my hand. “We have a deal for you. Interested?”
“In listening? Sure,” I said, sitting up straighter and scanning the faces of the brothers, who were all paying attention now. Even Raw up in the front seat.
Kane nodded. “We need to find C-Source. You do as well. What you do then, write a story or work something out between you, is up to you. But we need to find him, and get him off your back, and ours as well. It can’t be left like this. So far, nothings been done that can’t be worked out. That is going to change fast if we don’t act now.”
I let that spin in my mind. “Alright.”
“There is a tradition in our brotherhood. We call it the Time of Ages. During the period of an Age, one of us is our dominant leader. The others continue to have their say and their controls, but only one is the leader. Right now, that is me, for the next,” he looked at his watch, “twelve hours.”
I thought about their precedence for understatement and subtle address. “So, shit hits the fan in twelve hours?” I asked.
He smiled, though the others did not. “Not if you’ll help us out. With all that has gone on, this is all botched up and informal, but none of that takes away from the seriousness of the situation.”
“Alright, spit it out then. What do you need from me?”
He shifted in his seat. “Said without preamble it’s going to sound a bit medieval and crude.”
Jeez, I thought. “Any time now, would be nice. I’m a big girl.”
“Um, yes,” he agreed. “Well, we need you to make a choice, between the five of us, for the coming age.”
That sounded, easy. And not nearly worth the build-up. “And that means…?”
“You consent to marry the one you choose.”
Now that was closer. Choosing, should have a sense of commitment on the chooser for anything important. There should be a direct effect, a focus the human mind could wrap around. It was barbaric, and yes, even medieval of course, but if I was choosing for a country, their leader, then I should be the one sleeping with the bastard, and thus have a personal stake in my choice.
Five sets of blue eyes were watching me closely. None of them made any jokes or flippant comments. Not even Quinn. I had Ore’s full attention. Then that word hit my brain again… Immortals.
Five immortal princes, each of them attractive on a grand scale, each wealthy, powerful, and appealing.
This was not a ploy for them to get a wife or to get into my panties. They were serious. This was serious. Something about this had ramifications that might reach around the world.
“I um,” I began, and then adjusted myself, “I get the sense that I’m choosing in the dark for a much greater issue than who I’m going to sleep next to until I divorce or kill him. I feel like this has a wide ranging effect, and frankly I don’t know how I could possibly make that choice.” I turned to Kane, “I would’ve been your wife in a heartbeat, ten minutes ago. But if this is going to affect a lot of people I can’t just go with the one I want. I can’t just do that, knowing what I know about you, or your brothers. Something much deeper is going on here, right?”
Kane nodded. “Well, at least we have the right woman.”
I grinned, but then frowned.
Kane looked to his brothers. “She has a point, and she’s right. So, I propose the hunt. Each of us will work with her, use our skills and expose our natures to her, while we hunt down C-Source.” He looked back to me. “That will give you a clear look at each of us. You’ll be able to see what we do, how we work, what our intentions are for this world. What do you think?”
“So, I’ll hang out with each of you one at a time, track down a highly dangerous and protected power, work with a murderous Cartel, and then choose who best to rule the world after. If I’m still alive.”
He thought about that, then smiled. “Exactly. Also, we’ll give you a million US into your account for the effort.”
“US dollars?” I asked.
“Five,” he suggested.
“Why not ten?” I asked.
“Why not? And a set of knives too.” He wasn’t smiling now. He was dead serious.
Well, fuck me…