Alexander knew lust was damning him; he embraced it and thought he didn't need a Chinese cross-dresser to preach him back to the right path. He was in for a surprise.
Foreword: Yup another one of Count D's, I'm crazy about him. I blame this story on Red. You know what's your sin, so suck it up, Hon. The rest are warned that this is rated M. After all, it comes from a spiteful gal's sick imagination, you do the math. Still, I love Matsuri Akino's work and would never do anything really questionable to it, the least of all in the name of revenge. Anyhow, if you are squeamish…run. Oh, and I don't know why I claim this happens in San Francisco, but I think it does. Somehow I feel that if one day you're walking around Nob Hill – among the foggy bugambilia riddle mansions and fancy hotels – if you make the wrong turn –or, perhaps, the right turn- you'll end up in Chinatown and find D's Pet Shop. I've heard some people saying it's L.A. but I sincerely doubt it. And, sorry Herb Caen, but I like the word Frisco and I'm not afraid to use it – tourist and rube that I am. I do love the City, though, so I guess that counts as attenuating circumstance doesn't it?
Pet Shop of Horrors
Detour
"Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your heart or burn down your house, you can never tell." Joan Crawford.
Alexander Flüstern-Lügen could make Casanova blush and leave the room. His name was banned from some of the town's best and worst houses. In Frisco that's a big deal. And, just like Casanova, he seemed focused on quantity over quality. That's not to say that he wasn't discriminating, but he wasn't picky either. If you breathed and were gorgeous or quaint, you fitted his bill. If you also had bad luck, you caught his attention an ended up being another mark in his bedpost.
The night Alex met his destiny, had began just as any other night. He had just finished corrupting a plain vanilla catholic schoolgirl. The girl was the daughter of a guy who'd always looked down nose at him in the Yacht Club. One day, early in the morning, Alex had woken up rocking to the rhythm of his boat with a killer headache, trying to remember the name of the girl sleeping beside him. Thanks to his habit of tipping generously, he had managed to keep the exact location of his dock a secret. That was the reason why the two avengers that had come to find him weren't able to do so. Through the haziness of a hangover, which a couple of aspirins couldn't fight back, he had overheard two men talking. One of them -the asshole who had fathered the mousy schoolgirl- was telling the other –who was the father of the girl whose name Alex couldn't remember- that the whole mess was his own fault for not imposing discipline in his home. Only a scatterbrain would fall for the cheap conqueror tactics of the kind that low-breed eurotrash could come up with.
Given the choice of remaining hidden or facing head-on a couple of burly brutes, which could only end up with he getting beaten or having to do some explaining to the police, Alex had taken the path of least resistance. Nevertheless, he had enough pride left in him for that to vex him. In fact, Alexander had been so furious that he nearly got arrested for driving his conspicuous cherry red Alpha Romeo Spider at murderous speed down Marina Boulevard. So the small lived affair with the catholic schoolgirl had been spiced with the sweet flavor of revenge. But once another scatterbrain had bitten the dust, he began to lose interest. Even if his cheap conqueror tricks had convinced the schoolgirl to do some things that her father had made her swore on the Bible she'd never do, she was too sweet for his taste. And he began craving something more exotic to wipe the aftertaste off his mouth.
Alex kicked the girl out, after giving her cab fair and his best regards to her dad. He left the rest to the doorman, who was used to consoling hysterical girls and who didn't really mind thanks to the generous bonus Alex gave him every month. Then Alexander pulled his tux out from the closet, took a quick shower and dragged his carcass to one of Grace Maximilian's parties. She was notorious for hosting some of the wildest, most refined soirees you could ever hope to see since Caligula stopped receiving company. That is, if you were the kind who hopes for that sort of thing.
Well, there's nothing new under the sun; or the halogen lights for that matter. He had seen it all twice or thrice, except for some of the caterers. But Grace was vane and she handpicked those making sure she wouldn't be outshined.
'Boring,' he thought with ennui. He might as well go home. But he hadn't slept on his own for a long time. He feared he'd lost the necessary skill and might end up rolling out of the bed and breaking a leg if there wasn't anyone on the other side of his bed to stop him. He started scouting the room for an old acquaintance that could be easily persuaded to rise to pillow task, when he saw his hostess walk into the room in a flashy animal print.
Grace wasn't alone. She walked in drop-dead high heels with a studied carelessness. And she was tagging along a beautiful brunette, who sported a leash and a collar. The brunette was clad in a leopard pantsuit that stuck to her like a second skin. What looked a bit vulgar on Grace looked really good on the brunette. The brunette carried herself with unconscious feline gracefulness that made Miss Maximilian look like a three-legged mule. The girl in the leopard skin kept staring fixatedly at the floor, but, perhaps sensing the intensity of Alex' eyes on her, she looked up at him briefly with deep dark green eyes filled with golden sparks.
He'd always made fun of the stupid hyperboles some men, caught in the grip of hormones, use to describe the objects of their lusts. But now he finally understood that there wasn't any exaggeration involved in the phrase: drowning in someone's eyes. He would gladly take a dive in those dark green wells any given day. She was the most ravishing creature he had ever seen, and he had seen a few. Grace must be back on something or else she wouldn't have dared to show her face around that woman, so much for her trip to rehab.
Understandably, everyone wanted a better look at the pair and Alex had to fight to reach them. He had started smiling his way closer and had ended up using his elbows to persuade the crowd to open up for him. It was no use. He got to a clear in the adoring mob just in time to see the brunette being taken away by something Chinese in a flowing kimono.
By the time he made it to the door they were gone. He'd asked Geoffrey for a name, an address, anything. Geoffrey came from a long line of butlers that had watched over the follies of the Maximilian's heirs with impeccable sangfroid since King George's times, so Alex was not surprised that the man just shrugged stating that those details were Miss Gracie's business. Madame insisted on making the arrangements for her soirees by herself. So Alex took his business to Miss Gracie.
There's not such thing as a free lunch, and with Madame it was always quid pro quo. Grace's appetites were egregious so it was daytime when he could finally get to what really interested him.
"My, oh my, Alexander! That Grand Tour you took last year has done wonders for you," Grace said with a lewd smile on her pretty face.
Alex smiled back, kissing a satin-like shoulder: "Well, dear Grace, it has come at a great cost. I've lost track of you. So tell me. What you've been up to lately?"
She laughed shoving him away: "Cut the Don Juan crap, Alexander. It's me you are talking to. You don't do pro bono. Hell! The day you do something without an ulterior motive, I'll eat Geoffrey's shoes. You want something from me and I can bet this isn't it," she signaled her bed with a dramatic gesture. Faking a hurt expression that was closer to reality than what she would like to admit.
He laughed goodheartedly and begged her for forgiveness the best way he knew how, before asking her: "Actually, I do need some information. But you know that I always want you," he wasn't exactly lying, but he'd said that to mollify her. Faced with a skeptically raised eyebrow, he decided to cut to the chase: "Where did you find that luscious creature you were dragging around last night?"
"That?" She panted in disbelief.
"Of course, she's ravishing."
"You're not serious, are you?" she asked hopefully but he denied. She plunged back to bed with a horrified expression on her face: "My word, Alexander. I think that's to rich even for you!"
She sounded truly shocked and Alex misread why: "Well, Grace dear, I'm self confident. I think I can handle your girl."
Grace blinked, disgust painted in her face, and hissed: "She's not mine. She was a rental."
He paled: 'No way! She's lying. That woman wasn't a hooker. She had too much class for that.' Alex thought he would have picked on it in a second. Again he misinterpreted the meaning of her words: "Believe me, darling. If you don't want to share, I can totally understand it. But, if you are going to lie to me, come up with something better. You're slipping, girl. Could it be that you're jealous, Grace?"
Grinding her teeth she got up, picked up pen and paper, scribbled on it with a shaky hand and gave him the address: "Go and see for yourself. You can keep her… I've done some things in my life, but I'm certainly not into that. Dear God! I do have my limits. Some things are just not done…" she stifled a chill, grabbing a peignoir from a chair and wrapping it tightly about her. She muttered something under her breath he couldn't quite make out and said out-loud: "Congratulations, Alexander. Now you have me sounding like my mother. Look, I don't care. Do what you want. And while you are at it, add mine to the list of places where you're not longer welcomed."
Whatever she was on, it certainly didn't improve her mood. Alex made a mental note of sending her a big bouquet of yulan magnolias –her favorite flower- and his pharmacist's card. Then he drove to Chinatown.
An intriguing creature in a black and white kimono with a chrysanthemums print opened the door. One of his/her eyes was golden and the other one was violet. The Chinese was yummy, probably the same one he'd seen last night. But the place looked crappy, hardly a place that could count Grace Maximilian in its clientele. A small sign said Pet Shop. Alex laughed between teeth; the owner sure had a dark sense of humor.
D let Alex in, leaned briefly and said: "Welcome. Come in, please. You've arrived just in time for tea."
Inside, things improved only slightly. Nevertheless, the tea was delicious, fruity and smoky; though it was tart at first, it left a sweet taste in the mouth. He knew it was oolong, a tea which fermentation process is somewhere in the middle of green and black. And he suspected it was Dān Cōng, an oolong that mimics the flavor of some fruits and flowers. But he couldn't pinpoint exactly which variety it was. And he fancied himself something of a connoisseur. After holding the liquid in his mouth for a while, he finally swallowed admitting his defeat: "Delightful. What tea is it? I know it's oolong but of what variety, I can't tell."
"Oh, it's made by request. You might say it's a family secret, so I can't tell either."
The man giggled and the sound of it was almost as good as the tea. Yes, surprisingly, he claimed to be male and a Count none the less. He could have easily passed himself as female and might have been a real Count too. As Alexander knew from firsthand experience, a nobility title doesn't pay the rent, otherwise his mother, the daughter of an entrepreneuring fish-monger who'd made a fortune, wouldn't have been able to buy a Duke and marry him. This Count D guy was quite a character and, had Alex not seen the brunette first, he would have been really intrigued.
The Count kept the "Pet Shop" cover carefully. There were actually animals there, though he had seen people go to greater lengths than that to hide the true nature of their business. Plus the Count didn't talk shop during tea time. Alex upgraded the price he had thought of.
He shrugged inwardly: 'Never mind that. Some things are worth spending that extra buck.'
"What brings you to my door, Mr. Flüstern-Lügen?"
'Guess tea time is over. Time to haggle' thought Alex with a cynical smile and said with studied casualness: "Actually, I'm interested in one of your pets."
"Ah!" Count D nodded: "And, do you have a particular pet in mind?"
He did, but he was no rookie when dealing with Venus merchants, so he knew better than to show his cards right away: "Oh, I wouldn't mind looking around."
Five minutes later he had a Border Collie pup drooling all over his tux and was looking at the alleged Count with a raised eyebrow.
"Is this your idea of a joke?" He grumbled handing back the dog. He didn't want it to ruin his suit with hair or worse.
Count D petted the pup, looked at him through narrowed eyes and with a small derisive smirk playing on his lips, said: "Not at all. I happen to think that dogs are wonderful pets for those who have trouble with affection and commitment. These little creatures can teach them a lesson or two."
He exhaled a couple of times and let the anger flush down. He laughed: "This charade is unnecessary, my good man. I know what your actual business is."
"Do you?"
"I should have started by telling you that Grace Maximilian recommended you to me."
"Did she?"
The Count was looking at him with his head tilted like a bird of prey. Alexander was beginning to get nervous.
"In fact, I saw you at Grace's party last night. That's the pet I'm talking about."
"Ixchel-B'alam!"
He rolled her name softly in his mouth. Hell! Even the sound of her name thrilled him: "Yes."
"She's not for sale."
"My dear Count, everything has a price and the price is of no concern here. Plus I know you gave her to Grace."
"That was a loan. But you are right, everything has a price and it has nothing to do with money. Precisely the reason why I think you can't pay it." D's smile was sweet and poisonous: "Truly valuable things, unlike passing whims, can't be obtained by a mere exchange of money."
"You'd be surprised of the lengths I'm willing to go for this whim." The moment it left his lips he knew it wasn't a lie. Truth tastes sour sweet, especially when you haven't taken it in a while. 'What has gotten into me?' he thought frowning and then rapidly composing a blank face.
D was sizing him up and was about to show him the door when he heard the call: ((The Yellow Bacab has spoken. Bring him forth.))
((Your highness, you can't possibly mean…This man is unworthy of…))
The haughty response came before he could finish: ((Red Kami, this man's worth is not for you or me to decide. Dare you question the word of the Gods?))
The Pet Shop was huge, larger than it looked from the outside. They walked long corridors that seemed to plunge in the darkness, yet, as they moved on, a soft glow came from the walls.
He could smell incense, something heady and miasmatic that surprisingly was still pleasant, but just marginally so, too much of it and you'd get sick.
Had that man put something in the tea? They were in a jungle. Through his dulled out senses he perceived brushes of noisy birds flying against the dark green foliage coloring their way as they moved. Alexander and the Count went down a mud path; branches hit Alex' face and a snake or a liana fell on his shoulder, startling him.
He couldn't know how long they had walked. After a while they reached a clear. Alex shook his head from side to side: 'No fucking way!'
He was looking at a pyramid, a frigging pyramid, and not the gray ruin you are used to. No, it was covered in colors, colors as bright as the birds' plumages or the insects' carapaces, jewels and gold hanged from the stone idols' ears and necks.
He was definitely tripping, he had to be. If that Chinaman thought Alexander was defenseless on account of being doped he was sadly mistaken. He had rip men apart with the stiletto he kept in his booth while blind drunk. That's an ability you must have when you are used to seek your cravings in certain places.
He was about to take the blade out when he saw her. If seeing her sober had unbalanced him, in his present state, he couldn't help falling to his knees, literally.
She appeared framed in the smoke that came from two huge stone braziers. Alex knew that smell: copal, the resin ancient Mexicans burnt to honor their gods. She was wearing a delicate black tunic, a closer look and you could make out it was covered by darker velvety specs. Alexander thought bitterly that it was a pity she had chosen to overdo it; she was one of the few females that could have spared the theatricals, she didn't need them. She was breathtaking. She had a single string of obsidian and gold dangling between her perfect breasts – she wasn't wearing a bra. The tunic graced her round hips as she walked with... He fought to find a way that could describe the way this girl moved. Then he settled with stealth. Yes, something that conjured both danger and allure. She was walking with bared feet over dead leaves and she didn't make a sound.
Alex trembled when she looked at him with her jade eyes. She saw that and smiled derisively with her dark rose lips. Alex knew the steps of the dance and wasn't ready to be put down, not even by the goddess he was facing now. He straightened and looked back with his chin held high.
A flash of surprise crossed her eyes, but she recovered quickly. She laughed; a deep throaty sound that tugged at Alex's loins: "Such pride for a hard walker." She said in an accent that was impossible to place.
He laughed too: "I can be soft when I want to, princess." He smiled at her suggestively.
The girl batted her eyelids. She seemed confuse, though she had quite the backbone for a whore. She rose to her full height: "You don't know who you are talking to."
"Yes, we haven't been formally introduced. Your boy here is a lousy host."
Alex could feel D's nails digging into his arm, almost drawing blood as he said in a calmed voice: "How rude of me. Ixchel B'alam, watchful eye in the navel of the world, soft treader of the truth's moon tide, this man is Alexander Flüstern-Lügen. He comes to you with a request."
"I know, Red Kami. Ever since I can remember, all of his kind have come to me with a request. This one's has an easy answer: No."
Alexander felt the anger rising, there was another feeling too but he didn't stop to analyze that. He wasn't used to be refused what he really wanted. And he wasn't ready to take rejection from a bitch that had sold herself to Grace Maximilian. He was proactive. It wouldn't be the first time he had applied the principle of: what won't be willfully given, can be forcibly taken.
He was reaching for her when the Chinaman stepped in. The guy was fast and stronger than he looked, plus he had razor sharp nails. Alex had done his share of street fighting still he could barely keep up. He was trying to create a space between them to be able to pull out his blade when the girl spoke. She could shout alright.
The girl roared: "Stop! Blood won't be spilled on this sacred ground!" Thunder pounded in the skies.
Alex got distracted for a second and found himself kissing the grass. The Count was on top of him, a knee pressed hard against his back, strong hands holding his arms in a lock. Alexander stopped fretting around; he knew when he had lost.
"Okay, princess. You win. Can I ask you a question before I leave?"
That was the only request Ixchel B'alam couldn't refuse, D knew it too so he helped Alex get on his feet and waited.
Ixchel huffed: "Speak, hard walker. But beware, because I can only answer you with the truth. If you don't want to hear it, hold your tongue and leave."
"Why did you look at me in the party if you weren't interested?"
"What makes you think I was looking at you?"
"So avoiding the issue is not considered lying; eh princess? But you and I know that you had your eyes cast down and then you looked at me, just me. What was that about?"
Ixchel couldn't found a way out of it: "I've seen you before, in a dream."
"Was it a pleasant dream, princess?" he teased.
She sighed and said with a trembling voice: "No, it was a horrible black nightmare."
Alex felt the sudden urge of going to her and comfort her. But he thought that the Chinaman might misinterpret his intentions, so he stood where he was and pointed out: "You didn't seem scared."
She straightened her back "Ixchel B'alam knows no fear."
He smiled brightly: "Then why chicken out now, princess? I'm inoffensive, really."
Ixchel laughed bitterly: "Because, you silver tongued hard walker, you bring me dead. And I'm not ready to go west yet."
The Count threw him out. It wasn't the first time he lay on the sidewalk, but it was the first time he couldn't find the strength to stand up. No when he thought of the look in the girl's eyes while they left her, there was longing there, no fucking fear whatsoever. He felt bile rising to his mouth. Spite was good, that might get him going. Yes, after breathing some clean air, all was clear now. It had all being so theatrical; all probably a cheap ruse to see if he coughed up more cash. The broad was a whore, underneath the nice clothes and regal bearing. Hell! Her folks probably had come to the country floating in a banana peel. And he, blinded by a pretty face, had fallen for it. The best he could do was to forget about the whole sordid business.
But he was still chewing the bitter swab while he hogtied a poor teenaged couple he had picked up in a disco. The fools didn't saw his mean smile as he pulled the lighter from his pocket and light a cigar. The fear only reached their eyes when they saw him lighting a second one and then a third.
Ixchel B'alam, the voice of the four corners of the world, was pacing up and down. She worried with a hint of sarcasm if the madness that usually comes to visit seers had finally taken hold of her. Every damn sound startled her. A small tapir that ran by had scared her out of her skin. She had pulled out her claws on the soft jungle's floor and now they were covered in filth. She let out the air through her velvety snout, making her whiskers tremble and started licking her paws clean.
Licking wasn't a good idea, it made her restless. She itched as if she had rolled over poison ivy. She began scratching and then she stopped herself. If she lost it, she would shred herself to tatters. Frustration flashed in her green eyes. She felt rebellious of the fate she had been allotted with. For uncountable years she had served the Gods, faithfully, readily. What had she done to deserve this?
Alexander, she had meant to pronounce it like a curse but the hard walker's name, with its harsh consonants and strong vowels, sent shivers down her spine right up to the tip of her long tail. "GREOW," she swung her head from side to side and buried a fang in her black lips until she draw blood.
Feeling despondent she jumped on a leaning tree and started scouting the horizon looking for prey. The hunt was one of the few pleasures allowed to the temple's priestess. And she desperately needed some distraction, something to wipe the hard walker's face from her mind. Still, she retained enough of a sense of justice to be fair with the other jungle dwellers. She growled to the moonlet sky. That night she was on the prowl and the wise wouldn't cross her path.
D was taking tea with detective Orcot when he heard Ixchel and stopped with his cup midair.
"What the fuck was that?"
D tried hard to look innocent and said: "What would that be, my dear Detective?"
The growl sounded again.
"That's what I meant; it sounds like the Animal Planet on steroids. What are you keeping in the back store D?"
D caressed distractedly Q-chan's head and said: "Oh that. Well, I've been having a bit of a trouble with the heater lately. It makes the oddest gargling sound."
"And you still keep it on? With this awful heat only an insane person would use it in the first place," Leo sounded quite skeptical.
"Some of my tenants require a certain temperature to be healthy. And I've already called the technician, but who knows? It might resolve on its own."
Leo always felt disconcerted about the way D talked of his animals. Only a wacko would go around calling them tenants. But he knew better than to get caught in a discussion about it and he also knew a gargling heater wouldn't get him a warrant to crack open the store and uncover whatever illegal business was going on. Nevertheless, he felt a sick satisfaction when he pointed out: "Doubt it. Does it use gas? 'Cause if it does, you might want to fix it asp, before it blows up."
"I hope you're wrong, detective. I truly hope that's not the case."
Alexander lay on his bed looking vacantly at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep and had told himself it was the heat. They were in the middle of one of the worst heat waves in years. He wanted to convince himself that was also the reason why he had kicked out the girl he had brought home that evening. He was lying, he had picked her up for her wild honey complexion and dark curls but the moment he had seen her dull brown eyes looking sheepishly at him, he had lost interest. He still went through the motions, thinking: why pass on what is so willingly offered? But he made it as quick as it was polite to and then said he had an early meeting in the morning.
For a week and a half, since the Pet Shop incident, he'd been having trouble sleeping. These liquid green pits kept popping in front of him whenever he closed his eyes. He was losing it. It had gotten so bad that, after following a girl he had thought was Ixchel, he had to do a scale in the public bathroom and deal with himself. He hadn't done that since he was a teenager. While washing his hands he looked up to his reflection on the mirror and told himself that he was being incredibly stupid. He could have sworn that he heard Ixchel's despiteful laughter, agreeing with him.
He had to do something. He was too restless to just lie down. So he went out for a walk, good thing his car keys were in the pocket of the jacket he had taken with him out of habit; because he hadn't walked two steps before he realized he was going to Chinatown. He would have walked the ten miles that separated him from his destiny anyway, but taking the car made it easier.
He was parked in an alley 'round the shop's main entrance. He was deciding the best approach to break in, when he saw her sneaking out the back door. She wore tight white pants and a taut white t-shirt. Alex could barely breathe; she looked painfully beautiful and the doubtful expression on her face made her look very young.
She stood there looking at the car as if she had been waiting for him and, now that he was finally there, she didn't quite know what to do. Some things you don't question, Alex opened the passenger's door and she got in. They didn't speak a word between them on the way back to his apartment.
She was nervous, excited or both. Her nipples showing through the t-shirt pointed towards the second; but her anguished breathing and the trembling hands with which she had opened the car door when they had entered the garage, pointed towards the first. For reasons that Alex didn't want to analyze, he wanted to give her a chance to back away and go home.
"Second guessing your choice, princess? 'Cause this would be a good time to turn back."
"I'm here and I'm not one to turn back." Ixchel neglected to mention to the hard walker that she couldn't turn back. The minute she had left the shop she had sealed her fate.
He knew she wasn't telling him all, but he wasn't about to probe deeper and risk her leaving. Nevertheless, he tried to be gentle when he started kissing her. But she made it clear that she didn't wanted gentle. She kissed back hard and gave his lips eager small bites, all the time she kept her eyes opened.
Shit! Those eyes of her were driving him nuts. He couldn't wait. He made her kneel on the carpet and began taking off her clothes. She couldn't wait either. She was as impatient as he and she favored a different approach, she tore his clothes off his back with a strength he wouldn't have believed possible, looking at her lithe frame.
He got up to take off his pants and then finish undressing her. Again she beat him to it. It was as if she were reading his mind. She was already naked when he got rid of his pants. She presented her back to him, looking back with an inviting smile on her face. He pondered the offer for a second and then he turned her to face him. He wanted to look into the green eyes that had hunted him for the past weeks.
She seemed a little bit confused but she didn't protest, though that could have been because he was kissing her hungrily, first on her lips and then going down her neck. She began purring like a kitten.
Ixchel B'alam was on the verge of going wild. This was even better than what she had dreamt about. But she knew what was coming next and she refused to play the Gods' fool. She had seen empires rise and fall. She could ride this wave too.
But before long she was growling in frustration: "GRRRRR." Riding that wave was easier said than done. And the hard walker wasn't helping. He was taking them both softly to the west. She conjured up the image of the snow covered volcanoes she had seen once when she'd traveled to a northern city to tell a king's fate. Wishing that would help her keep her calm.
'Snow, white, cold, soothing snow. That's it, inhale, exhale, be like the dormant volcanoes that only give out vapor and cinder once in a while.' She had almost convinced herself that was possible when the hard walker brought her back crashing into reality.
'Good Lord!' thought Alex. She was a virgin. That stopped Alexander in his tracks. He was backing out when he felt her nails dug deeply on his back. She raised her hips and pulled him back. He could feel blood running from the wounds her nails had left. Hell! Forget the euphemism that girl had claws. If she didn't mind rough, why should he?
Snow wasn't working; in fact the snow was melting and then boiling, running down in ardent rivulets. All the breathing she could manage was rasp and shallow. The seer in her shouted: 'You foolish girl, remember what happens next. Remember what the black Bacab showed you in the vision.' And if what she had seen wasn't enough to do the trick, then she should at least remember what awaited her in the afterlife if she continued walking down this path. The black Bacab was going to be there to meet her. He sure as hell wasn't going to be happy. And his wrath indeed was a sight to behold. If you saw his face looking angrily at you once, you couldn't forget it, no matter how hard you tried. She sighed in relief: 'Yes, that'll do the trick'.
Ironic, that's what Alex thought before leaning exhausted against Ixchel. The only gal he cared to please and, for some unfathomable reason, she had decided to fight against it. The only comfort he had left was that she didn't look victorious. He caressed her face and hugged her tightly, thinking that maybe tomorrow or the day after that he'd have better luck. In any case, if he could help it, she was staying with him.
Ixchel thought that was Pyrrhic victory if she'd ever seen one. Nevertheless, they had come too close. She would have felt despondent if it weren't for the man breathing softly by her side. He clung to her as a cub would and she felt a tenderness towards him that she wouldn't have thought possible. She knew that very instant that she had been right to quit the Pet Shop, this was worth dying for. Her death of course, she was leaving before anything could happen to him. She looked at him and thought before snuggling closer to him and falling asleep: 'Well, I'll leave first thing in the morning.' She had traded immortality for this and she at least deserved the memory of a happy night.
"Leon, there's someone waiting for you in the chief's office."
It was D and he looked distressed. That made Leon's stomach churn. This was the same man that had kept his cool during a man eating rabbit invasion and last Christmas he had taken him on a wild goose chase for a Dragon egg during a black-out always keeping the Mona Lisa smile on his face.
"Oh, Detective, this is terrible! One of my pets has gone missing. I fear she might have been stolen. She's one of my shop's most remarkable tenants."
"What is she? On second thought, don't tell me. I don't wanna know. Just tell me if we need to call the Army."
"No, Detective, that's not it. She is especial, but relatively harmless. And I think I do know the name of her abductor."
Leon looked at D frowning: "And how would you know that?"
"Because he tried to buy her but I refused. He didn't seem like a man who would take no for an answer."
In the name of Tepeu and Gucumatz, the hard walker was headstrong. He had woken up when she was trying to sneak out of the apartment and he wasn't letting her leave. Ixchel frowned: "You don't understand. I want to stay, but I can't. I really can't."
"Is this for what happened last night? Come on, princess! I did tried my best. You should at least give me a second chance to redeem myself."
"No, that's not it. Last night was wonderful. I would gladly trade it for a thousand years," which was exactly what she had done: "But if I stay here, we'll both die."
She might have deluded herself into thinking that she would be able to control herself. And, if she hadn't caught him watching her sleep with his eyes speaking promises that his lips dare not speak, she might have believed it. But she couldn't fight that kind of look. She was bound to cave in if she stayed, and she wouldn't or she would end up harming him. The image of her first vision of him slapped her full in the face and that was enough to strengthen her resolve.
He couldn't let her go, no matter what. The fact that she didn't seem to get that, made him want to hurt her: "So you'd rather go back to being a whore."
She laughed goodheartedly: "So you, the expert, didn't notice you were in uncharted territory?"
He had and it only made him feel more territorial about her. The thought of letting her go back to that dreadful shop or to be dragged by the likes of Grace made his skin crawl.
He embraced her tightly, burying his convulse face in her chest. He hadn't cried in public since he was eight in a train station, when he had begged his dad to take him with him. His pleads hadn't worked, his father had left him and his mother without ever looking back. His grandpa had finished the job, instilling him with a fear of ridicule that was almost a phobia. But, faced with the possibility of losing her, nothing else mattered. With teary eyes he pleaded: "Please, don't leave. I need you to stay."
'No, don't look at me like that or I may end up doing something stupid,' Ixchel breathed in: "It's not safe. If it were just me, I would take the chance. But I won't put you at risk. I've done all of it that I mean to do."
"Is this because of the Count?"
"The Red Kami?" she laughed: "No, of course no. He might be understanding, but there are others who won't."
"Then we'll leave, both of us. I'll make a few calls and we'll have the tickets waiting for us at the airport. Take your pick, princess. We can go anywhere you want to."
She wanted to scream but she tried to keep her voice calmed: "There's no place in the world to hide from this."
"Then we'll stay and fight whatever may come our way. I might not look it, but I'm resourceful and can be pretty dangerous myself if I mean too. Your enemy is my enemy, princess."
She looked at him and knew two things without having to probe his mind. He wasn't joking and she was doomed. Some things you can't run from. She wasn't even sure she would've wanted to run if she could have. She was crying when he started kissing her eyelids.
"Silly hard walker," she muttered with a lump in her throat.
But he didn't care, as long as she was staying, he was blessed. Sure, he didn't deserve it, but he was blessed. He wanted to laugh and he did. It was the first time in years he'd laughed for real.
'This is it. This is what I've been looking for without ever knowing that I was looking for it; and now it's here.'
Even if he knew she wasn't lying -someone really dangerous was coming to try to take her away- he felt confident that he was going to beat whoever it was. With her by his side, he felt invincible. Getting all you want without having to work for it can do that to you. He just couldn't imagine that he might lose the only thing he couldn't live without.
"He has several addresses. Any idea where he might have taken her?" asked Leo scanning the computer screen.
D answered without stopping to think about it: "The one closest to the shop. I bet he was in a hurry."
Orcot narrowed his eyes and asked suspiciously: "In a hurry for what?"
God! Was the Count blushing? Leon threw D a sideways glance.
D didn't want to lose time. He said as he walked beside Leo to the car: "We need to hurry, before it's too late."
Leo reluctantly got into the car. D's attitude was getting on his nerves. He asked harshly: "What exactly are we talking about here, D?"
Nervously biting his lower lip, D breathed out: "The wrath of the Gods."
If anyone else had said that, Leon would have laughed. But D looked dead serious and something inside of Detective Orcot's brain shouted: Step on it!
'To Hell with the Gods,' Ixchel thought. She'll deal with them later. Caressing his cheek she thought: 'This is the only truth that matters.' Resting his face on her hand Alex lost himself in her eyes and understood that she was The Answer, never mind the question. Hell, he hadn't even known there was a question. Together they felt whole.
But they were both forgetting that you can't escape from the watchful eye. You may think you have, but it's just a matter of time until you're finally spotted and dealt with. And those bastards have an endless supply of time. That doesn't make them less impatient to take revenge, though.
The spell that masked her identity had been broken and Ixchel B'alam was going mad. She had bitten her lover's neck. She had broken it and, in her anguish to help him, she had further hurt his body. Now she was watching life flow away from his open wounds. Still, he was looking at her with adoring eyes. She began raking her face with her nails, growling in despair.
He tried to make her stop, but he was so weak that all he could do was to mutter: "I knew you couldn't be from this world."
She inhaled deeply, fighting to regain control; then she kissed him silent: "I'm not. And this isn't over, not yet."
She pulled a maguey leaf out of nowhere. The plant was hard and ended in a thorn that looked quite sharp. She punctured her hands and let the blood flow mixed with her tears on each corner of the room. Then she stood in the middle of the room, facing the raising sun and she began chanting in a tongue Alex couldn't understand. She looked terrible and majestic. He thought it was weird he had to be dying to grasp that he loved her.
Ixchel B'alam raised her hands towards the skies. She wasn't petitioning, she was demanding. She felt entitled to. Nevertheless, when the floor behind her back began trembling and cracked open giving out sulfurous vapors, she had to repress the need to make a run for it.
She shouldn't have been so afraid. The black Bacab hadn't bother coming in person. He had sent the Bat god. Ixchel forced herself to look at his ugly face with an expressionless demeanor.
The Bat god went for the quick: "Even after you have defiled yourself, cat, after you've laughed in our faces, you still dare call out our name?"
"That's what your boss says? I rather speak to him directly. I'm not used to deal with second raters."
The bat hissed and Ixchel remembered this beast had been the one who had beheaded the morning star. But she was no second rater either, so she held her ground.
After an awkward silence the Bat god spat out: "What do you want, cat?"
Ixchel pretended she hadn't heard the despise dripping from his words and stated: "Only what it's rightfully mine after a couple of hundredth years of service."
The bat looked at Alexander and sniggered: "So this is the price of the moon cat?"
Then the foul thing looked at Ixchel's naked body and she couldn't help taking a backwards step. The bat raised an eyebrow, laughed harshly and coughed up a mass of something gray and red at her feet.
"We owe you nothing."
"I'm not begging, bat. I offer you a trade, my life for his."
"No, that I won't have, princess."
Stubborn hard walker, Ixchel hushed him: "Quiet, my love. This doesn't concern you."
"It's my life so it does. And I sure as hell won't trade it in for yours."
The bat screeched: "You can both keep them. There's nothing to gain here so there's no deal."
He was leaving. Ixchel cut his retreat and growled with the back of her throat: "Do you mean to say the life of the mouth of the God's is worthless, bat?"
The Bat god wouldn't go that far, he remembered that he had only prevailed over the morning star briefly through deceit; an open confrontation was a whole different matter.
"No, but the value has diminished through your folly, cat. There's still one thing I can offer you."
It was a crappy offer, but they didn't have an option.
Alex protested: "No, I won't let you do this, princess."
Ixchel huffed impatiently: "If it were the other way around, would you stay behind?"
Alex didn't answer out-loud, he didn't have to. They both nodded and held each other while the Bat god lived up to his name.
After the deal was done, they left their useless shells behind. Alexander passed an arm around Ixchel's waist and they followed the earth on its eastward spin, leaving this world and its troubles behind.
Leon Orcot had seen some things throughout his association with Count D, but this was weird even by D's standards.
"Shit! What is this?"
The guy was naked. He was embracing a big spotted cat. He had deep wounds all over him. The heads of both the cat and the guy where nowhere to be found; they'd both been drained out of blood. Only a small part of it was on the carpet. The rest had disappeared.
"We are too late," said D crestfallen.
Leon leaned against the wall, feeling dizzy. This was too much: "What was this guy thinking?"
"To find out that, Detective, we would need to ask the Gods. It's a pity there's no one left who can speak with them."
Ok, seems harsh, but still is sort of a happy ending. At least all the happy ending that lies' whisperer deserves. I'm told that's the meaning of the surname Flüstern-Lügen, in case you want to know.
Oh, and the gal is a jaguar. Let me warn you that I'm mixing myths here, so, purist beware. B'alam is the Mayan word for jaguar. The Maya also had Bacabs, jaguar gods of the four cardinal points and Ixchel the moon goddess was their mother. I was going to use Iqi-B'alam, moon jaguar, but it didn't sound nice in English.
The Bacabs were oracles and were associated with a color (north-white, south-yellow, east-red and west-black). West was bad news. Heck, at least it's all Mayan. If you want to learn more, especially about how the morning star ultimately kicked that bat god's ass, read the Popol Vuh. There are some very nice free translations available on the web.
Once upon a time wearing a jaguar's pelt (which always has spots but can be yellow, white or black) was a sign of courage in battle –an honor only awarded to worthy warriors. And their glyph was attached to the name of kings. Jaguars were respected and worshiped. Today the legend is dying: they are in danger of becoming extinct. Gee, now I feel bad for killing one, if only in make belief. It's your fault Red. You are west bound, man. You really are.
Mercurial Weather.
Curses or Comments? I love reviews and I appreciate constructive critic.
