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Souls of the Night – Vol 3

50.

I stood at Whole foods and thought for three minutes about whether I should buy rice or noodles. Both went well with the Harira soup I wanted to make for Lexington and me. I enjoyed cooking with Broadway - for the whole clan in obscenely large quantities or just small sample dishes that he may or may not include in his new cookbook. But cooking for just Lex and me ... that caused a warmth in my stomach that always made me smile. These were strange, domestic feelings, but they felt good. And had the great side effect of distracting me off-work from the urge to pinch myself or get too unsettled by the echoes or what I perceived in reflective surfaces. Lots of little coping mechanisms - they got me through days like this when I was free and no one from my work clan or my gargoyle clan could be with me.

But my schedule for the next few nights was pretty packed again. Nash had poked me and noticed that I needed more training. Katana had always claimed me to meditate afterwards. Goliath had asked me to keep an eye on Heather for the next few nights until morning, or rather, to sit Gargbiest, Castle and Eggs because the adults in the clan had gotten some kind of tip-off about other crimes. All this didn't bother me, I felt needed and wanted. But tonight, in the early evening, I could indulge in togetherness with Lex, or rather look forward to it. Lex was working tonight, had to discuss things with some development teams, but he'd be with me around 11. I didn't mind eating so late, my rhythm still largely in gargoyle mode even though I could now walk during the day. If Lex was ready, he would visit me and we would eat together like an old married couple.

I laughed quietly at the thought and if someone had just been watching me, they would have thought the man in front of the pasta variations was not quite right in the head. And apart from the actual veracity of this assessment, I didn't really care because I felt quite comfortable as a househusband waiting for his hard-working counterpart - forget gender roles. The laser tag thing was still lingering a bit, but despite the hunting frenzy (which I was obviously still able to succumb to) nothing bad had happened thanks to Lex and my team. The soup was ready, just needed to be reheated (would taste even better then).

Noodles, I decided, grabbed the packet of the right kind and walked through the market with the bag containing other odds and ends.

I also needed a new whisk. Cooking with Heather after seeing some episodes of The Little Mermaid cartoon series had been a stupid idea and to save her hair, she had used her claws to snip the wire loops caught in it. Another memory that was one of the more pleasant, amusing ones and I turned into the household goods aisle grinning like an idiot - only to bump into someone. And we both dropped our bags and baskets respectively and his basket tipped over and half a dozen utensils fell to the floor, as did half the contents of my bag.

"Oh sorry," we both said at the same time and without really looking at each other we both bent down and hurriedly sorted his and my purchases apart. With a stab in my heart, I recognized Jussuf's shaving cream and aftershave brand, but ignored his favorite kind of toilet paper, the Gryjere cheese I always had to buy (I had probably gone shopping for Jussuf more often than for myself over the years and he was SUCH a pedantic creature of habit that it was impossible for these combinations not to make me feel uncomfortable). But the chubby hands with the slightly hairy fingers with the short nibbled fingernails didn't belong to Jussuf and I would have dismissed all this as an incredible coincidence (someone who preferred similar products to my former tormentor) if the young man hadn't started talking as he picked up the cans and bags of other eerily familiar goods that lay between us. Because where I hadn't been aware with the brief sorry and hadn't given the other person a second glance, I froze at his first sentence.

"I'm really sorry about that. I wasn't paying attention and I- shit," he mumbled, handing me the dented tin of tomatoes that had come from my supplies. And where I had already raised my head in shock, Hassan did the same now. My brother! My baby brother, barely 18 years old. We stared at each other and while Hassan's realization of who I was grew more visible by the second, I seemed to have forever to take in his face. He looked tired. He still had his beard fuzz and was plump but ... Hadn't he become slimmer? And all in all, he looked ... changed. Older.

The seconds dragged on as if in slow motion even though we were in a brightly lit supermarket that was still quite busy at nine o'clock in the evening and this situation shouldn't have been so surreal but we were both utterly stunned to see the other. And what did Hassan see? The unfaithful, faggot brother who had simply run off after a last evening in which he had crashed the family evening with his equally faggoty stud? Who hadn't contacted them for months? The-

By now my brother was smiling - insecure and a little shy but not with disgust or aversion.

"Nasser?" he asked and yes, this pet name, which had actually been used by Jussuf, disgusted me but from my brother's mouth it sounded more affectionate than ever. He broke the spell by standing up and I did the same.

"Is that you?" he inquired, still not quite sure.

"Y-yes. It's me Hassan," I replied and everything here was infinitely awkward, but at least it wasn't awkward just for me. Hassan was still smiling, even though his expression somehow made me think of despair.

"When did you get back from Switzerland? You look great!" he proclaimed and I was quite disturbed when he lifted his hand and touched me on the upper arm. My little brother hadn't touched me in years. Not only because teenagers were rarely very cuddly in the family, but because in my semi-traditional family with my domineering and demanding mother and my father who had become cold through trauma, there wasn't a lot of cuddling and least of all with the gay black sheep. As a daughter, Jasmin was more likely to get the odd kiss. My father would give us a pat on the shoulder - rather Jussuf and Hassan - if something had been done well. And on birthdays and holidays we were sometimes hugged by mother or father (again, most likely Jussuf or Hassan) but now my estranged brother lifted his hand and felt my triceps with a widening grin under which there still seemed to be this thin layer of misery and disillusionment.

"Wow, a stay at the spa works wonders. You've got some muscle there. And you look so much fitter and happier in your skin."

But you don't! was my first thought, which was immediately followed by a massive feeling of guilt because a) I'd never been to Switzerland but had been given the magical 3-month gargoyle spa treatment and b) I hadn't contacted anyone in my human family even though I'd had the opportunity for a long time. But that would have set events in motion that I would not have been ready for. Confrontations I was still dreading even though I was working my proverbial butt off with Davis to face my very real human demons soon (which I HAD to do if I wanted to prevent Jasmin's wedding with Jussuf).

"I-I YES!" I reminded myself of my manners. "Yeah, I'm back. and um, I've-have been able to work through a lot of stuff and Lex and his family are making sure I'm eating well and yeah um... everything's okay. I- I had wanted to call but..."

And then I didn't know what to say. What I wanted to say. Hassan nodded with this apparently placid smile. There was satisfaction in his eyes (about me? About my healthier body and more stable mental state? Or because I was back?) but there was still always this strange general feeling that he seemed to exude.

"Thank you... for keeping me in the loop with your texts," I said, and it was really true. I WAS grateful for that. "And- and you? How are you?" I asked, feeling like I was under the influence of the echoes because I was mirroring his previous gesture (a gargoyle thing) and now clasping his upper arm with my fingers. This tinge of desperation grew for a second before his tone became more casual and revealed what he said as a lie.

"I'm doing great. Everything is great. I-I passed high school. Not with top marks, but hey, I've got all the credits I need. I-I'm already looking into work programs and I think-"

"But... didn't you say you wanted to go to SVA? What- why-"

Hassan's smile widened, almost a snarl as he laughed softly, and even as a non-gargoyle I imagined I smelled despair.

"That- that was just idiotic babble. Me and comic artists. Yeah- sure. I- I have to start putting that bullshit out of my head. At some point it's time to grow up and, and pretty much everyone in the community goes straight to work or college courses that bring cash later. It's much more sensible that way."

"More sensible," I parroted and was repulsed by his rambling. Because those were not the words and thoughts of an 18 year old and not those of Hassan I had known. Even though I hadn't had much interaction with him, I knew they weren't his thoughts and words. They were our mother's. And those of Jussuf.

The realization made me FREEZING COLD. I looked down and saw his purchases in the basket. Which were not his! Not even the basket belonged in my parents' house. It was JUSSUFS basket. His groceries.

I remembered Hassan's last text message. Jussuf's text message. My thoughts were almost whirling. Replacement! Substitute for me. Placeholder, successor, new victim. The icy cold shiver seemed to move from inside me outwards down my spine.

"Nasser?" Are you okay? You- you're turning green around the nose. And your breathing-." He reached for me and I grabbed both his hands, warm and firm. While I realized I was about to have a panic attack, my little brother looked around - maybe for a place for me to sit, maybe for a staff member. He looked so worried, like we were really family looking after each other and he wanted me to feel better. I looked at his hands, which I was clasping, and one of his long shirt sleeves had ridden up slightly. It was a May evening and it was still good to wear long sleeves in the evening. But I had a terrible premonition of my own, which was mixed with memory and my own experience. I let go of one of his hands and pushed his sleeve up to his elbow. And saw red marks on his forearm. Just as I had hidden them myself for years. Hassan pulled away from my already limp grip and moved back to the shelves with the kitchen utensils, which tinkled quietly behind his back. His gaze was suddenly venomous, defensive as he brushed down his shirtsleeve with the telltale marks.

"Hassan ...," I said breathlessly and wanted to howl, scream, rage. I imagined a bomb going off somewhere. A whole cascade of bombs that made the floor under my feet vibrate slightly and a quiet rumble ripple through the corridors like a wave. But it was all in my head.

"It's nothing!" he defended himself. "Just a graduation ritual for the boys in high school," he assured me, and I heard a lie that was Jussuf's. 15 years old - an evergreen. I shook my head in disbelief. Not because I didn't believe IT or HIM, but because I couldn't believe that I had thought Jussuf would leave Hassan alone when Lex kept him busy with his diversionary maneuvers. That Jussuf would have no nerves and no leisure for manipulation and "training". Yes - he obviously had. This was my fault! These burn marks from a cigarette butt were MY fault. I had left Hassan alone, left my family alone. I had thrown my baby brother to the wolf while I played gargoyle and even as a human was only busy with my own affairs.

"Jussuf, it was him!" I gasped, feeling so light in the head that I thought I was about to fall over without Hassan's support. But I couldn't have a panic attack now, I had to function. The entity inside me, airy and so far uninvolved, gave me a gentle inner nudge to lean against the other side of the shelves and brought Davis's exercises back to my mind. I took another deep breath. And inwardly counted down from ten.

When I opened my eyes again, Hassan had grabbed his (Jussuf's!) basket and was holding it in front of his chest. His face was all red. The shame of a man who had been subjected to torment by another man. I knew this emotion too. A man, a Muslim man, had to be strong and defensive. If he wasn't, it was his own fault. Or he wanted what was done to him.

"I have to go now," he said. "It's good to have you back but-"

I stumbled forward and grabbed the handle of the basket.

"Jussuf!" I snorted, clearing my throat and pulling myself together. "Jussuf," I repeated, much harsher and downright hateful, and that hate - once verbalized - felt like the only proper emotion. I wanted to go straight to Jussuf, whether human or gargoyle, to beat him, to cripple him, to kill him, that he would keep his filthy hands off my brother and his whispers out of his head.

Hassan's saw that I knew. That I knew, and from my own experience. His eyes widened briefly. Like a puppy that saw a chance to escape through a hole in the fence behind which his owner had chained him. But I knew that kind of chains. They were psychological. And shame, self-loathing and terrible fear kept them stable. You kept yourself in chains. Because you couldn't bear the humiliation in your family, in your circle of friends, in your community. I recognized my younger self in Hassan as he shook me off him, barking a tired laugh.

"He was just shaking some sense into me. I was too lazy and stupid to make it into college. I'm grateful he's helping me. I'm going to work harder and accounting exams aren't that hard. That - math was one of my better subjects, it makes sense and is a safe job. Mom and Dad are happier with me too. Everything is fine. So let it go. I know you blame Jussuf for your breakdown back then, but he's just helping me."

"It's not like that!" I started to defend myself, but as I took a step towards him, he took one back, glaring venomously at me.

"I'm not as weak as you were! Jussuf is strict. Jussuf can be an ass. But he wants the best for our family. He's more of a brother to me than you are. So... nice to have you back with your rich boyfriend and his great family but ... let's do our thing and you can -"

A siren went off in the store, making Hassan stop his half cruel, half totally justified statements.

.

"No, I see where you're coming from. That's a very good second concept. The simulations run so much smoother," I murmured thoughtfully while my eyes were glued to the screen with the numbers rattling down.

"We're glad that we were able to fix the mistakes of the first one. Your suggestion with the bypass circuits really helped."

I cracked a smile and patted McManin, the head of House C's robotics lab, on the back. He stiffened a little, but his smile was genuine as I spoke.

"You and your people would have thought of that on your own. You're among the best," I said, straightening up and giving the whole group another fang-reduced, uplifting smile as I left the lab to go to the next one. I checked the clock on my phone.

"Only three more stations to go," my personal assistant Corinne assured me with a smirk. Of course, she knew by now that I had a friend I wanted to meet afterwards. Perhaps my repeated sighs of suffering had given me away, but I really only did that between our stops - otherwise I was very professional and Corinne had already praised me for it, so it was true because I was paying her for the truth.

"So ... like an hour?" I asked.

"If you don't get into shop talk with any of the teams, yes."

I hummed contentedly, guessing I'd be able to restrain myself, and pulled out my cell phone to text Nathaniel that I'd make it around 11. That's when I heard a low rumble. As a human, Corinne probably didn't hear it at all, she just stopped because I had stopped.

"What wrong?" she asked and I raised my hand to silence her.

It rumbled again, a little louder, nearer and now I could feel the vibration on the soles of my feet.

"Do you hear that?" I asked and crouched down on the floor to find out what-

.

Chad and his colleagues at the guardhouse by the main entrance whirled around as a huge explosion shook the grounds. Where his two colleagues covered their ears and nearly threw themselves to the ground, Chad watched in stunned horror as a massive fireball rose over Building C. Then B. Then A and D. The barrage of staccato detonations made his eardrums ring and he could feel the immense heat even across the hundred yard walkways and lawns.

"An accident!" shouted one of the others.

Chad whirled around under the last detonations and snarled.

"In all the buildings almost at the same time? That was a bomb attack!" he replied, almost shouting, and then barked orders to the two who were on duty in the guardhouse anyway.

"Call the fire department, call NYCEM, notify the surrounding hospitals! Send a message to all employees to gather at the emergency assembly points. You - come with me!" he shouted to one of the guys. It was one of the beefys, but no one could choose his colleagues. As Chad sprinted away, this guy shouted- "Turn off the compound's security mechanisms, close the fire barriers between the buildings and open all the gates. The incoming cars must not be slowed down by anything." Then he too was gone.

"If we open all the gates, anyone can-"

"Just do it!" shouted his colleague and pressed the button that caused the loud, blaring alarm siren to sound across the entire complex.

.

"No!" screeched Tachi as she tried to jump after Ares. But the mirror portal (that of the small hand mirror she herself had used to beam him back to Alex a few nights ago) swallowed him up and closed before she could reach him.

"No! Fuck! No NO!" she shrieked, jumping up and throwing herself off the castle battlements. She caught one of the swift winds and darted east. Where new flaming beacons blazed about the place where LeXa ltd was.

.

Hassan and I both looked up at the loudspeakers from which a voice just croaked.

"Dear customers, due to a fire in a nearby company, we are informing you of possible smoke and pollutants in the air. Please drive home carefully and keep your doors and windows closed. You are also welcome to extend your stay until the authorities deem the situation to be safe. Stay calm. Have a pleasant day. More updates in the local news or on the New York City Emergency Management page."

Before the announcement was over, an alarm went off on my cell phone. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw that it was the Clan's emergency notification. The error code displayed indicated a malfunction on one of the clan members' cell phones. An error code that didn't go off when the battery was dead, but was only displayed when the titanium-coated core of one of our cell phones was severely damaged. With shaky hands, I clicked on the map where all the cell phone coordinates were displayed. All the dots were green. Only the non-functioning cell phone was red. It was underlined with LX and the last transmitted coordinate was LeXa ltd terrain.

"Lex!" I gasped outwardly and the entity inwardly at the same time and where before I had almost had a panic attack because of Hassan, now all the stomach-churning fear and spray-spattering panic seemed to flow out of me as if someone had drilled a hole in my emotional milk carton.

Just as I was able to refocus on the here and now, Hassan walked away, apparently tired of my emotional instability, but I ran after him, grabbing him by the shoulder so hard he almost slapped me as he whirled around.

"What! What now?" he nagged.

"I have to go!" I said much louder than I intended.

"No Shit?!"

"Yes! Listen to me!" and something in my voice caught Hassan's attention.

"Listen to me," I repeated more quietly, but hurriedly and sternly as I took out my wallet. I felt my cell phone vibrate in my pocket, knowing the gargoyles on the early patrol - all the gargoyles and familiars - had gotten this message like me. I babbled over the vibrating, knowing I sounded like a psycho.

"I'm going to help you, Hassan. You, the family. I'll get you out of this, I'll make sure the same thing doesn't happen to you as it did to me. But first - I - something has happened and I have to - but after that."

Hassan grinned maliciously, clearly having no idea why I was so agitated and overly determined. It was probably easy for him to shake off everything that concerned me because I was "the crazy one" in the family. He hadn't learned it any other way.

"Sure, save us all from our lives. Are you coming to the family dinner on Friday?"

I looked at him open-mouthed for a moment. Then I nodded firmly.

"Yes, I'll come. But until then. If Jussuf does something. No matter what. And you can't take it anymore. Go to my apartment. Don't tell anyone I'm back so Jussuf won't come looking for you. You can stay there as long as you want."

I handed Hassan the key I had found in my wallet because although I now had a fingerprint sensor, I still had a classic spare key. He looked at it and frowned intensely.

"Promise me you'll seek refuge there if you have to!" I demanded, driven and with growing horror at the text messages now coming in from the clan.

"Yes. Yes, I promise," Hassan said. I squeezed his shoulder again and then ran off.

"Your stuff," my brother called after me, but my groceries meant nothing to me right now. I had to get to LeXa ltd.

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Should I have warned you to grab your snuggle blankets beforehand? Meh - the title of the last chapter was enough of a clue. But- I'll give you a warning about the next chapter- but the song that will come next is lit. ... or does the song come in the chapter after next? ... Mhmmm, I'll have to see how I split it up. Lots of small parts again.

Thanks for reading, Q.T.