J. Ward - Lover Avenged

He didn’t call Xhex in to witness. Didn’t ask Trez to do it.

iAm was the one who came, the Moor John Hancocking the name he’d assumed for human purposes on the appropriate lines to verify the will and the transfer of real property assets and the trust. After that was done, he went on to sign his true name on a letter that was written in the Old Language as well as a declaration of bloodline.

When it was all done, Rehv put everything in a black LV Epi briefcase and gave the lot to iAm. “I want you to take her out of here in thirty minutes. Take her even if you have to knock her ass cold. And make sure your brother is with you and all the staff is gone.”

iAm didn’t say anything. Instead, he took out the knife he kept at the small of his back, sliced open his palm, and reached out, his blood dropping thick and blue onto the laptop’s keyboard. He was as steady as Rehv needed him to be, totally unblinking, and solid.

Which was why long ago he had been the one chosen for the rough shit.

Rehv had to swallow hard as he stood up and took the hand that was presented. They shook on the blood vow, and then their bodies met in a hard, tight embrace.

iAm said softly in the Old Language, “I knew you well. I loved you as mine own flesh and bone. I will honor you e’er more.”

“Take care of her, okay? She’s going to be wild for a while.”

“Trez and I will do whatever we have to.”

“None of this was her fault. Neither the beginning nor the end. Xhex is going to have to believe that.”

“I know.”

They parted and Rehv had a hard time letting go of his old friend’s shoulder, mostly because this was the only good-bye he was going to make: Xhex and Trez would have fought what he was going to do, would have tried to negotiate other solutions as they clawed and grabbed for some other outcome. iAm was more fatalistic than that. More realistic, as well, because there was no other way.

“Go,” Rehv said in a cracked voice.

iAm put his blooded palm over his heart, bowed down to the waist, then left without looking back.

Rehv’s hands were shaking as he pulled back his cuff and checked his watch. The club was closing now at four. Cleaning people arrived at five a.m. on the dot. Which meant after everyone was gone he had about a half hour.

He picked up his phone and headed for his bedroom, hitting a number he called often.

As he locked the door, his sister’s voice was warm on the line. “Hey, brother mine.”

“Hey.” He sat on the bed, wondering what to say.

In the background, Nalla whimpered in a little plaintive plea, and Rehv grew still. He could just picture the two of them together, the young held against his sister’s shoulder, a fragile bundle of future wrapped up in a soft blanket edged with a satin ribbon.

For mortals, the only infinity you had was the young, wasn’t it.

He would never have them.

“Rehvenge? Are you there? You okay?”

“Yeah. I just called because…I wanted to say…” Good-bye. “I love you.”

“That is so sweet. It’s hard, isn’t it. Being without Mahmen.”

“Yeah. It is.” He squeezed his eyes shut, and as if on cue, Nalla started to cry properly, a howl warbling through the phone.

“Sorry about my little noise box,” Bella said. “She won’t sleep unless I’m walking around, and my feet are starting to give out.”

“Listen…do you remember that lullaby I used to sing to you? Back when you were small.”

“Oh, my God, the one about the four seasons? Yes! I haven’t thought about that for years… You used to do it when I couldn’t sleep. Even when I was older.”

Yes, that was it, Rehv thought. The one directly from the Old Myths about the four seasons of the year and of life, the one that had gotten both him and his sister through a lot of sleepless days, him singing, her resting.

“How did it go again?” Bella said. “I can’t-”

Rehv sang awkwardly at first, the words tripping from rusty memory, the notes not perfect because his voice had always been too deep for the key it had been written in.

“Oh…that’s it,” Bella whispered. “Here, let me put you on speakerphone…”

There was a beep and then an echo, and as he sang on, Nalla’s cries dried up, flames extinguished by a gentle rain of ancient words.

The spring’s pale green cloak…the summer’s bright-flowering veil…the fall’s chilling weave…the winter’s blanket of cold…Seasons not just of the earth but of every living thing, the peak to strive for and the victory of fruition, followed by the fall from the crest and the soft, white light of the Fade that was the eternal landing.

He sang the lullaby through twice, and his last trip through the words was his best. He stopped there, because he didn’t want to risk that the next try wouldn’t be as good.

Bella’s voice was rocky with tears. “You did it. You put her to sleep.”

“You could sing that for her if you like.”

“I will. I definitely will. Thank you for reminding me of it. I don’t know why I didn’t think to give it a go before now.”

“Maybe you would have. Eventually.”

“Thank you, Rehv.”

“Sleep thee well, sister mine.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, ’kay? You sound off to me.”

“I love you.”

“Aw…I love you, too. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

There was a pause. “Take care. Take care of yourself and your young and your hellren.”

“I will, dearest brother. Bye-bye.”

Rehv hung up and sat with the phone in his hand. To keep the screen lit, he pressed the shift key every couple of minutes.

It killed him not to call Ehlena. Text her. Reach out. But she was in the place she needed to be: Better she hate him than mourn him.

At four thirty, he got the text from iAm he’d been waiting for. Just two words.

All clear.

Rehv stood up off the bed. The dopamine was wearing thin, but there was enough still in him so that without his cane he wobbled and he had to catch his balance. When he was convinced he was steady enough, he took off his sable coat and his jacket and disarmed himself, leaving the guns he usually kept under his arms right on the bed.

It was time to go, time to use the system he’d installed after he’d purchased the club’s brick building and renovated it from cornerstone to rooftop.

The whole place was wired for sound. And not the Dolby kind.

He went back out into the office and sat behind the desk and unlocked the lowest right-hand drawer. Inside was a black box no bigger than a TV remote, and other than him, iAm was the only one who knew what it was and what it was for. iAm was also the only guy who knew about the bones that were tucked under Rehv’s bed, bones that were human male in nature and roughly the size Rehv was. Then again, iAm had been the one who’d gotten them.

Rehv took the remote and got to his feet, looking around one last time. Neat piles of paperwork on the desk. Money in the safe. Drugs back in Rally’s scale room.

He walked out of the office. The club was well lit now that it was after hours, and the VIP section had the detritus of the night all over it, like a whore too well used: There were footprints on the glossy black floor, circular water marks on the tables, napkins wadded up and left in the banquettes here and there. The waitresses cleaned up after each patron, but there was only so much you could see in the dark if you were a human.

Across the way, the waterfall was off, so there was a clear view to the general-pop section-which didn’t look any better. The dance floor was scuffed up. There were swizzle sticks and lollipop wrappers everywhere, and even a pair of panties had been left behind in one corner. On the ceiling above, the laser lighting system’s networks of girders and wires and lamp cups was exposed, and without music being played, the huge speakers hibernated like black bears in a cave.