Starting over
Starting over
Disclaimer: I do not own Constantine, or anything to do with it.
Chapter one: The Seer
'Don't talk to the angels and demons'
'God and Lucifer don't like mortals who meddle'
'Ignore all the half-breeds'
Well shit, that's no fun. But, that's what I've been raised to do; ignore, and be ignored.
Most half-breeds appear normal, except to those who See, then you see their 'extra features'.
They all can take human form, comforting or meddling.
Good or Evil.
I'm in the grey area, I think.
The sight runs in the family, my mother's side. The offside, besides the whole 'seeing things we shouldn't' and 'trying to make them ignore you' thing, they are unexplainably drawn to us California women.
Not only do I have to ignore them, I have to deal with cheesy pick up lines, come on, the ultimate evil can to do better than 'hey, baby, how about a drink?'
My name is Suliari California, yeah, I know, the name is weird, but that's what you get when your mother is obsessed with Mozart and his mentors. I have a brother named Wolfgang, so shut up.
So I just turned twenty three, and I've just moved from Tucson, Arizona to L.A., my friend had gotten me a job at a cool little club called Midnights, supposedly popular to the locals. My apartment sucks, but what do you expect, its LA.
I had to do protections right off, writing the symbols in the door ways and windows, sea salt lines found themselves across the window sills. After the protections come the alter to Mother Earth, or the Goddess, she's the only one that doesn't care that my family has the sight, so it's only sensible that we pay our due to her.
After that I ran to get groceries and stop by the local pagan shop to grab some amber, and the rest of the supplies I had to leave at home.
You'd be surprised what they won't let you take on a plane now days.
Pissed me off right and proper when they took all my stones and oils, bloody overprotective gits.
I got home and laid down for an hour or so, wouldn't due to look haggard in front of the boss man.
The club was dead at two pm, when I came in the door a man the size of the Hulk stared down at me, "You California?", I nodded and he pulled up the red rope, "Last door on the right, knock once". I nodded and started in, the place was clean, which was a definite plus, but there was an air around it that didn't settle me as a dark club should.
I knocked on the heavy steal door and stood back, expecting to see a sleazy white man in a loud suit.
I about choked when a suave black man in a white shirt answered the door, "You must be Ms. California, please come in", his Jamaican accent slid over me for a soothing affect.
It didn't sooth me.
There was something off about this man; he was moving too gracefully, his aura reading of something not of this world. But fuck me if I could put my finger on it.
He sat behind a dark oak desk, gesturing that I sit as he picked up a piece of paper; my resume. He glanced over it, "You have worked in two bars in the last two years?" I nodded, "Yes sir, both of the owners are now good friends of mine", he nodded once and put the paper down to look me over.
"If you are a California, are you any relation to the Dodson twins?" my head snapped up to his eyes, they held amusement, he was teasing me. I nodded, "Second cousins, why do you ask Mr. Midnight?" he smiled, "I'm very good friends with Angela's husband, John Constantine. You know him?" I finally snapped. "Okay, Midnight, what are you getting at?" he laughed, it sent a chill down my spine, "If you are related to Angela, you have the sight", I froze, and croaked out, "What?!" he smiled, "So it is true".
It was a statement.
I glared at him again, "What, exactly, does this have to do with my working here?" his eyes twinkled at me, god damn him.
"Everything".
There you go! Hope this is okay, I've never written a story online before so please take it easy on me.
love to all,
Bullet