Chapter 6
Imogael
That kiss was painful.
It wasn't painful like a bite or a burn or a cruel word. It was painful because it took something that was cold, numb and dead and gave it feeling again.
I'm certain I was born with that numbness, and to have sensation in that part of me was… unpleasant. I wanted it to stop. I wiped away the remains of his spit from my lips, but the feeling was there. I turned back to the birds, but the feeling was there.
The feeling was still there. I hated it.
Humans were awful. And curious and interesting. Mostly, though, they were awful because they were so good and though they had nothing like the power I had, they did have the ability to control my thoughts in their own way.
Or, at least, Scott did. I ached to have those lips on me again, so that I could solve them, understand the secret behind their touch.
From somewhere, I heard the flutter of wings. Not the small wings of the birds, but large wings, wings that were familiar to me. I jumped up, looking around. It was getting dark outside, but I could see there was no one in the front yard. No one on the porch.
But there was something on the porch. A black mass, strangely shaped. Looking at it filled me with a kind of dread. I stood staring at it through the window for a long time, feeling that getting near to it was sure to be dangerous. It didn't move, and no one returned to claim it.
I wanted, then, to go home.
Stepping to the front door, I opened it and watched the mass for a while longer. I wanted to be sure there was nothing inside of it that was alive. It didn't move. The night was quiet, and the birds had all gone from the tree.
I felt fear for the first time, then.
Opening the screen door, I crouched down and poked the mass, which had turned out to be a bag much like the one Scott had been carrying when I first met him. Whatever was inside of it was warm and squishy. I smelled the death within, but I didn't call for Scott. I had to know, before he did, so that I could soften the blow for him.
Unzipping the bag, I saw first a hand with slender fingers. Thin skin, wrinkled. Covered with the red of blood. Then arm it was attached to was not attached to a shoulder. Then there was a head, another arm, a neck and bust.
It was Starr. There was a tattoo of a flame on her chest. It looked raised and irritated, as if it were new.
I couldn't soften this blow for Scott. My hand was shaking as I stood away from the bag. “Scott?” I yelled. “Scott, you need to come upstairs right now.”
His feet were heavy against the stairs as he came up, and when he saw my face the blood drained from his own. He stepped to the front door, looked down, and croaked out a groan.
“Oh, God. Jesus.”
His thoughts were flooding with emotions and colors and sounds and memories, and none of it made sense to me. I wished I could have comforted him, but I didn't understand the grief. Not really.
He called out to the sky a loud yell, animalistic and full of pain, and I felt as he felt. The deepest, blackest well of grief. Worse than me losing my wings, worse than anything I had ever before. I reached out to him, touching his shoulder with a gentle hand. His cry turned to tears, turned to silent rage.
Finally, he stood and grabbed the strap of the bag, dragging it into the house and then out to the back yard. I knew that he would bury it when he could, but for that moment he left it in his garage, where it wouldn't make the house smell.
He came back inside and looked at me with determination, stubbornness in his square jaw. “What are you going to do?” I asked.
“I'm going to go play poker,” he replied.
Scott
The secretary at the front of Saejima's building tried to stop me from barging in when she saw the look on my face, but she was easily pushed out of the way as I stomped down that hallway to the secret door in Saejima's office. It clicked open with the removal of a book, revealing the stairs that went down, down, to the secret portion of his basement.
My boot hit the door at the bottom and kicked it in, damaging the hold of the hinges. I knew exactly where those bastards were, and I was ready to fight every one of them. Before they could stand up from their table, I picked up a chair and slammed it down, sending chips and cards flying.
The men in the room shouted and pulled away from the table, pressing themselves against the walls and watching me with fear in their eyes. All but Antonio, Saejima, and Jin. They stayed put, watching me as I blew up at them.
I picked up another chair and threw it Antonio's head, but he dodged it. It smashed on the floor in front of one of the men I didn't recognize, who was standing there in a mustard yellow suit.
“Scott, what the fuck do you think you're doing?” Saejima yelled, pulling his son away from the table and throwing him against the wall so Jin wouldn't get hurt. He stepped closer to me, but I took a swing at him that kept him away.
“Which one of you assholes did it?” I yelled, picking up a third chair. “Which one? Or was it all of you? Did you all work together to take her out of the picture?” The chair hit Saejima's shoulder, knocking him to the floor. He groaned in pain, rolling on the floor and clutching his shoulder. Jin ran to his side.
There were no more chairs that were easy for me to grab. Elise was behind me, watching quietly as I acted, pulling out Joachim and Boaz, my twin pistols. They were gifts from Starr, and I was going to enjoy using them to kill the motherfucker that killed Starr.
“Scott, hang on,” Elise said, but I ignored her. She had no idea the duty I felt to punish whoever the fuck had killed Starr. I was going to make the fucker pay, and it wasn't going to be a fast payout. It was going to be long and painful.
“Jesus, Scott! Calm the hell down!” Antonio said, taking out his own gun and pointing it at my leg. “Tell us what you're so upset about or I'll take out your kneecap.”
“I found Starr in pieces on my doorstep! God, there was so much blood. There was...” I bent forward, feeling a pain in my chest. “Who could have killed her? She was so careful.”
“Mary in Heaven,” Antonio replied, sitting back into his chair next to the destroyed table. Saejima stood and watched me. My gun was pointed right at him, and yet he still walked right up to me. Past the guns, and into my arms.
As he hugged me, he whispered, “I am so sorry. I know she was like a mother to you.” The display of affection was at once offensive and calming to me. I wanted to pull away, but he held me tight.
The other men in the room, many of whom I didn't know, all watched with fear in their eyes. The poker game was when club presidents from out of state met with Saejima and Antonio, and until that point, Starr. It was where they negotiated for drugs, guns, and favors.
It was supposed to be one of the few places where they were all safe. No fighting. No drinking. No guns. I broke all but one of those rules, and no doubt put a kink in the night's negotiations. I didn't give one flying fuck.
All I wanted was justice.
My arms fell, and my guns dropped to the floor. I was spent. I still burned with anger, but there was nowhere to direct it, because I knew no one in that room had hurt Starr. Most of them had probably never even met them before, and the way Saejima and Antonio reacted? It was unlikely they knew.
“Who could have done this?” Antonio asked Saejima, kicking his foot up onto the table.
Saejima pulled away from me, then stood between Antonio and myself with his arms crossed. “You've lost men, recently, Antonio. Did you ever found out who was killing them?”
“No,” he answered. “Did you ever find out where your men went?”
“They're still missing, and not a trace was left. We've made our men call in to the secretary or myself every 2 hours. Another man went missing earlier today,” Saejima answered.
Antonio nodded. “As to the question of who could have done it, I can only name one person, and that person is long dead.”
“Joey?” Saejima asked. Antonio nodded.
“But like you said, he's dead,” I said, venom in my voice. “Fucking dead. So who else could ti be?”
“Seeing as they're going after everyone in this area, and there isn't much that ties us together, I can't exactly say who is doing it, but I can say why.”
I crossed my arms. “Why, then? What possible reason could someone have to come after all of you?”
“She was left on your door, Scott. And you're the only thing that ties all of us together.”
I remained silent. What was there to say? I wasn't following his line of thought, and I needed it to be spelled out for me.
“Which says, to me, that you are the real target.” His voice was serious. Saejima nodded, a grim look on his face. The men around the room all watched me as I struggled for an answer. One never came.
It was the only thing that made sense. Starr was dead because of me. Like so many others. Like her. Trouble might have followed Elise, but death chased my heels.