He sat with the phone in his hand, hesitating.
A part of him wanted to call Alexis, meet up with her and pick up where they left off.
He didn't know what to make of her. She was a good player, the one with endless tricks up her sleeve. What was her deal, though? So much hassle just to keep their partnership? What was her real beef with Xena? Alexis wanted to teach her a lesson, that made sense, but why all the games to set him and Xena apart?
Not that it didn't work — now that Xena had seen the damn footage — well, what did he expect, anyway — it never took much for her to blame and distrust him. And this time, she had a good reason to.
Fire crackling in the fireplace behind him, he kept staring at the sunny, snow-covered city the huge wall window offered a panoramic view of. Occasionally, the view morphed into flashes of last night — waking up with her this morning — the way she smiled at him, the way she never did, relaxed in his arms, trusting him—
He growled and hurled a fireball at the palm tree in the corner; then another one, at the wailing fire alarm; and stepped into the raging fire, the flames warm on his skin, lapping over the surface without a trace; and yet, he felt like yelling, hollering, screaming his damn lungs out; the way mortals did when he burned them alive. Did they feel at least half of what he did? No wonder they wailed.
Hearing the fire squad's siren downstairs, he put out most of the fire, kicked the entrance door open and threw himself down on the sofa, putting his feet on the coffee table and lighting himself a cigarette. When he heard the crowd of steps thudding downstairs, drawing nearer, he dropped the butt to the floor and crushed it with the heel of his boot.
"You okay, sir?" one of the firefighters asked as several of them barged in.
"Like fuck I am," he muttered, dragging his other foot off the table. Not hearing the rest of the words aimed at him, he walked out the door and vanished.
Without thinking about it, he found himself standing at the entrance of a hotel.
The hotel.
Unhurriedly, he walked in, swaggered over to the reception desk. "Room 13."
He fished a credit card from his wallet and threw it on the counter. The receptionist handed him the room key, a piece of cold plastic he grabbed and fiddled with it for a moment, glancing towards the outside pool.
"Do you need assistance settling in, sir?" the somewhat flirty, high-pitched voice made him turn his head back towards the desk.
The voice belonged to a petite female in her twenties, eyeing him hungrily — and now he remembered, she was the one who'd checked them in back then; the first time he was here. With the one woman he wished was there with him now; the only one he ached to take upstairs and—
He gazed for another moment, at the boringly insignificant mortal before him; one of millions that eyed him that way, with the desperate worship he was sick of.
The way she never did.
Her; she always stood out; always different from all the eight billion of them. Mortals were so two-dimensional, but her — she was — filled his mind like nothing else — and there were depths to her, some of which he hadn't even reached yet. Fascinating, how much of her was lurking under the tough exterior. Back in Greece he'd seen plenty of it, but this time around it was only glimpses; she never quite let her guard down with him. He did crack the walls, but they never crumbled entirely. She let herself be vulnerable around him at times, but — there was still more, things deep down he ached to reach, hear and feel; the scars on her arm—
"Sir?"
"Maybe next time," he said, not sparing the receptionist another glance, looking towards the pool instead; the damn pool — making her absence almost painful — that he kept staring at, in a fit of some masochistic compulsion, wondering why the hell he came here in the first place; which he kept wondering all the way upstairs, till he reached the door with the golden-lettered number 13 on it, and slipped a hand down his pocket to fish out the cold plastic to slash the lock open.
The room was bright and sunny; like that accursed morning he'd left. The bed, the window, the red armchair — all there, so familiar, so strange and cold now. As it all felt without her.
Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to clench his fists so as not to repeat what happened at his place — making a mess here wasn't going to help.
Recently, at times, he'd fantasize; about fire consuming him; entirely, once and for all. Mortals burning alive — a sight he'd witnessed over the centuries of his reign on Earth more times than he could count — interesting, that he never before wondered what it felt like, for skin to catch fire. Save the smell of burning skin, the whole thing looked spectacular; a life burning out. Did it feel purifying? Seemed so much so; cleansing, of everything, all of it, the burden of life.
Would his life flash before his eyes? There would be quite a lot of it.
"Sorry, my mind's all over the place…" her voice resounded in his head, a vision displaying before him again, the warmth of her smile when she said it, when she pulled him close—
"Sentimental, are we?"
"What the f—" his shoulders stiffened at the sound of the raspy voice behind him.
"Well, hello to you, too, partner." The room resonated with the sound of stilettos clacking against the wood.
The bitch really had the nerve, showing up after she — how the hell did she even know where to find him? Or that he'd been here with—
"Your mind's like an open book, that's how. Makes communication much easier, wouldn't you say?" Alexis walked past him and stopped at the window.
"Who the hell are you?" He furrowed his brows.
"Someone who's known our dear Xena a bit longer than you have."
A chill ran down his back when she turned around, her eyes glowing unnaturally black as the room darkened.
"It's ironic, really..." She smirked. "We both always wanted the same thing — to turn her into her old self — and we both failed. Who knows, maybe us joining forces would've done the trick. Though, I did get pretty close when I arranged to get rid of that little blonde pest—"
"It was you…"
"I don't like the spotlight but — yes."
"You're a real piece of work."
"Oh, you have no idea…" she purred. "Though, not half as much as your little girlfriend used to be ten years ago." She put her both hands up in the air and cast a stream of energy his way, making his eyes close, images flashing in his mind; visions that made his heart pump blood with such rush that he felt himself sweating. "You love what you're seeing, don't you?" the ominous voice thundered somewhere in the background — he didn't care, he just didn't want it to stop, the images and scenes consuming him, about to drive him insane if this went on—
"Okay, I think you've had enough for a start," Alexis snapped him out of the vision, her voice back to normal, the room brightening up again.
He didn't need to ask if it was real, what he saw; this had Xena the Destroyer of Nations all over it — by the gods, she was magnificent, just as he imagined — more than he imagined — way fucking more — godsdamn—
Whoever this damn witch was, if they combined powers, maybe they really stood the chance — this was still her, there was darkness and rage still there, buried deep — it just needed tapping into—
"She's quite riled up already — about to meet up with her colleague Gareth as we speak — not planning to kill him, but what if she did?" Alexis mused, pacing around the room. "What if — let's say — in the middle of roughing him up, her gun went off by accident? Those things happen."
He snorted. "If she killed him, she'd turn herself in the very next moment."
"Normally she would, but currently — let's say she has a good reason to run."
He frowned, tilting his head. "And that would benefit you how?"
"Would get her out of my hair, for once… and well, considering how she crossed me, I figured her losing her badge would be a nice touch."
"And what's in it for me?"
"Isn't it obvious? Once she's cornered and forced to flee — there you will wait, a knight in shining armor to the rescue, the warrior princess all yours."
He raised his brows at her. "You don't know shit about her."
"Still more than you do." Alexis let out a chuckle and left, leaving him standing in the middle of the room, puzzled.
Driven by a sudden hunch, he waved a hand, making a portal display in front of him.
He couldn't help a smile, seeing her in black uniform, reaching for her gun and taking a perfectly aimed shot at a guy who held a kid in his arms at a gunpoint. As the man swaggered and collapsed, she ran forward and caught the crying little boy in her arms, her eyes closing as she secured the boy's head with her hand and pulled him to her chest, whispering in his ear.
He kept staring at the portal, something, some sudden sensation tugging at his chest.
Somehow, strangely, the memory of what Alexis had shown him just minutes ago wasn't that enticing anymore. In fact, if he had to choose—
There was only one woman he wanted for his partner and the mother of his children; the only one who made him want all this.
He was looking at her now.