by M. L. Ryan
Alex stood there for a bit, looking pensive and a little confused. He finally sighed, grabbed his jacket, and followed me outside.
We decided to take one car, figuring no one would be too suspicious if we carpooled downtown together. Alex drove, and on the way, he asked casually about my earlier phone call and the obviously strained relationship with my mother.
“She’s a closed-minded, self-absorbed religious fanatic who believes the earth was created six thousand years ago. What’s not to love?” I began derisively. “She can never say anything nice and she complains about almost everything. If I thought I could cut all contact and avoid being wracked with guilt, I would do it in a nanosecond.”
“Human attachments are confusing to me,” he said with a sigh. “We try to distance ourselves from associations that are painful or negative, even familial relationships. But here, people cling to even the most destructive alliances, particularly when it comes to their parents.”
I looked out the window into the dark sky. The air was crisp and clear, and I could easily see hundreds of stars twinkling over the quiet desert.
“Hey, I don’t get it either. My sisters found a way to have as little to do with her as possible, but it seems… I don’t know… mean. I’m just happy I live many states away and only have to talk to her every few weeks. I feel bad for my father, though. I don’t know how he stands it.” I thought more carefully about what Alex had said and I added, “The Coursodon probably doesn’t tolerate bad relationships because they live so long. A couple hundred years is a long time to put up with someone’s bullshit.”
“Perhaps, but it would seem that when one’s life span is more limited, one would be less likely to waste any of it with bullshit.”
When we arrived downtown, we luckily found a parking spot just a block from the restaurant. Cafe Sin Vacas was tucked between an upscale tattoo parlor and a store that sold Native American jewelry. The place was decorated in minimalist-loft style: hardwood floors, exposed pipes, and raw brick walls surrounded the stainless steel tables and chairs. Rachel and Harrison were already seated, and they waved us over when we entered.
Rachel, as always, looked fantastic. She wore a pale, sea green, V-necked cashmere sweater and a tight, mid-thigh length, cream-colored leather skirt. Her shoes matched the skirt and were of the fashionable, high-heeled variety that I could never bring myself to spend the money on, much less be able to walk in. Harrison was his usual hot self—tall and muscular, his short, dark brown hair accentuating his chiseled facial features and dark blue eyes.
Harrison rose as we approached and I introduced him to Alex. After their obligatory hand shake, Alex and I sat down next to each other, and across from our dining companions. The waiter came by and asked what we wanted to drink and by the time the guys’ beers and our margaritas arrived, Chelsea and Daniel had joined us.
Everyone was in a good mood, and the excellent meal and great company helped to make the evening fun and carefree. The menu, which changed daily based on the whims of the chef, was written on blackboards propped on metal easels that the wait staff brought to the tables. We all opted for the ‘Daily Special’, which consisted of the chef’s choice of three menu items. When the food arrived, none of us had the same three selections, which allowed for sampling of the entire, delicious, menu.
As we lingered over our after-dinner coffee, I couldn’t help but notice the comfortable, affectionate familiarity the actual couples had settled into. Harrison brushed a stray wisp of hair behind Rachel’s ear while she debated with Alex on the pros and cons of a two-party political system. Chelsea leaned her head on Daniel’s shoulder while they shared a piece of raspberry cheesecake. I sat back and contemplated what it might be like to share that kind of closeness.
When it was time to pay the check, I assumed that we would split it so the couples each paid a third and Alex and I would be responsible for our own sixths—but when the bill arrived, Alex insisted on paying for both of us. At first, that seemed to indicate that he was viewing the evening like a date, which made me a little giddy and uneasy at the same time. Soon my more rational self kicked in and I figured he was just trying to even things up for staying at my place.
As we got up to depart, Rachel leaned over to grab her purse, which she had set on the floor between our seats. Her position afforded me a birds-eye view of her ample cleavage, and I heard Sebastian groan softly.
I chortled quietly at his reaction and was suddenly consumed with mischievous intent. I let Rachel stand and step ahead of Alex and me. I stayed put, making certain Sebastian got a good look at her as she sashayed toward the door. Alex was initially confused by my delay and turned to see what was keeping me. He glanced first at me—my arms crossed and a wicked smile on my face—then at Rachel’s shapely derriere, resplendent in the form-fitting leather that left little to the imagination. He lifted one eyebrow and a crooked smile swept across his lips. When I finally walked by, he shook his head slowly and snickered, “You are a cruel, cruel woman Ms. Parrish.”
I nodded in agreement as I heard “one hundred, ninety-three, eighty-six…,” echoing in my head.
~9~
I was still laughing to myself when Alex and I got to the car. I had finally managed to settle the score somewhat with Sebastian. Well, to be honest, more like making the score a little closer. Okay, I managed to prevent a shutout. Regardless of the magnitude of the triumph, at least for a moment I felt like I had some control over my situation.
Just before we pulled away from the curb, Alex’s phone rang. The ensuing conversation was short and one-sided, with Alex supplying only an occasional “Yes” or “Uh-huh.” When he disconnected, he turned toward me and said, “That was one of my contacts. He has a lead on someone that might know what happened to Sebastian’s body.”
“That’s great,” I replied. “Finally, some progress.”
“Yes, and the best part is, we won’t have to go far to meet up with this guy.” Alex placed his palm over mine and said, “Sebastian, do you remember Xu Tao?”
“The pearl dealer from Hong Kong? I remember him well. His reputation as an informant is unmatched.”
Alex politely continued speaking out loud, so I could participate in the conversation. “He is willing to divulge what he knows about your body. Luckily, he will be here, in Tucson, next week for the Gem and Mineral Showcase.”
The annual Gem and Mineral Showcase was actually a world-renowned, international marketplace where fifty-thousand people invaded Tucson to buy and sell anything from jewelry to fossils. For two weeks, at the end of January and beginning of February, shows were staged all over town in hotels, meeting halls, and even huge tents erected just for the event. I had never actually been to any of the shows, but I knew all about it because each year the local media were dominated by its coverage. Plus, all the good restaurants were packed.
“That is indeed fortuitous,” Sebastian intoned, “both for the likely usefulness of the information to be gained as well as the lack of travel required.”
As usual, I felt as if I was missing something. “So how does a guy who exports pearls have the inside scoop on a nefarious, other-worldly crime boss?”
“It is not uncommon in both our worlds to have legitimate enterprises that benefit from contact with shadier elements. Kashanian’s syndicate guarantees, for a cut of the profits, that Mr. Xu’s pearls move safely from production to distribution. And Mr. Xu finds he can supplement his already prodigious earnings by keeping his eyes and ears open and doing business with both sides,” Sebastian explained.
“I guess that’s one way to even up the cost of extortion.”
“What he makes as a snitch hardly compensates for the amount he loses, Hailey. But I suspect it soothes the sting a bit to be able to stick it to Kashanian, even if only in some small way.”
“So does Xu know Kashanian, or you guys for that matter, aren’t human?” I wondered aloud.
“Of course,” Alex chimed in. “Xu’s not completely human eithe
r. His father was Courso and his mother was human.”
I had no idea there were supernatural mixed marriages. I thought it was a problem that my father was a Red Sox fan and my mom rooted for the Yankees.
“That explains the ‘why’, but wouldn’t it be easier and faster if he just called or e-mailed the information?”
Alex nodded. “For us, yes. But Mr. Xu only exchanges knowledge for money, and he doesn’t take credit cards.”
I obviously had a lot to learn about the seedier side of the world, but it made sense that Xu would want to meet face to face. This was certainly a positive development. Finally, we were making some headway into restoring Sebastian to his own body. Of course, as soon as we accomplished the deconvergence, or whatever the proper term was, Alex would have no reason to remain here.
This was so typical. I wanted nothing more than to be the sole occupant of my physical self, but at the same time, the thought of Alex leaving was distressing. Not only was he great to be around, but really, the whole supernatural-magical-parallel dimension business was much more exciting than my normal life.
Alex removed his hand from mine and started driving. After a few minutes, he glanced at me and smiled, then turned back to concentrate on the road.
“I had a good time tonight.”
“Me too,” I confessed. I suddenly felt sort of uncomfortable, so I decided to keep it light and added, “As non-dates go, this one was one of the best.”
He laughed heartily. “Wow, high praise indeed. And what makes this not a date?”
I paused to consider my answer. “Well, for one thing, we all decided to go out together. You didn’t specifically ask me out.”
“True. But we did arrive and leave together.”
It was dark in the car, so he couldn’t see my expression, but I’m pretty sure my tone conveyed my skepticism.
“It takes more than shared transportation to constitute a date, Alex. Using your logic, I’ve been on about two hundred dates with Rachel.”
“Okay,” he continued playfully. “But I did pay for dinner.”
I sighed with mock exasperation. “There you go again, making spurious correlations. If you recall, I offered to pay my share, but you wouldn’t let me. Again, I think everything points to non-date.”
He laughed again. “There are no spurious correlations, only spurious interpretations. But you are quite persuasive, so I suppose that I will have to concede that this was not an actual date.”
What the hell was I thinking? I’m with a sexy, intelligent, handsome guy and in an effort to keep things breezy, I succeed in convincing him that this was nothing but a casual get-together. Which it probably really is and he is just joking. Or not. Crap. Now I felt like I was fifteen again, not thirty. Maybe I could pass him a note after homeroom…
I figured I had backed myself into a corner so I decided to keep the light-hearted theme going.
“Well, if it makes you feel better, this was by far the very best non-date, with a non-human, I’ve ever been on.”
“It does. Whether or not this was a date, I still get to go home with you. I think that counts for something.”
“If he was as smart as he thinks he is, it would count for everything,” the little voice inside my head added.
***
The show Xu attended didn’t open until Thursday and even though he would be in town a couple of days before that, he insisted that the meeting take place in the anonymity afforded by the crowded venue. While it seemed to me that these types of things were best suited to dark alleys or smoke-filled taverns in out of the way places, Alex and Sebastian assured me that this made more sense. If anyone noticed us talking in such a public place, who would suspect that anything was going on, other than commerce? I could see the logic, but I have to admit it was a little disappointing that rather than cloak and dagger, this was going to be more like show and tell.
In the meantime, I played tour guide so Alex could see some of the sites around the area. On Saturday, we went to the Arizona Sonora Desert Museum and spent almost the whole day there. The Desert Museum is really more zoo than anything. They have all sorts of plants and animals that can be found in the surrounding desert and it is all presented in a natural, peaceful setting. The inhabitants include everything from mountain lions to tiny elf owls.
Alex was particularly enamored with an eight-inch-long giant desert centipede, a truly hideous creature with a segmented body and lots of pointy legs. I could barely look at the thing and practically had to drag him out of the exhibit. Apparently, the other dimension is devoid of such grotesque insect life—a big plus in my book, by the way—which made it even more fascinating to Alex and Sebastian. Sebastian couldn’t understand why I was so squeamish, and he delighted in torturing me with graphic details of what it must be like to have one crawl up your leg or find one in your bed. Although I had never seen one “in the wild”, he freaked me out so much that before I went to bed that night, I pulled back all the covers and shined a flashlight over and under my bed, just to be on the safe side.
I arranged the schedule at work so that it wouldn’t be a problem for me to take Thursday off and then I figured, what the hell, I hadn’t taken any vacation time in a while, so I planned on not going in on Friday either. Chelsea and Rachel jokingly complained about how the minions are always the ones that suffer when management slacks off, but I knew they didn’t really mind me having a long weekend.
Of course, once they heard that Alex wouldn’t be at work either, they were convinced that we were going off together on a romantic getaway. It was obvious that they wanted to press for specifics, but Alex was always around whenever they had an opportunity to interrogate me. As I couldn’t begin to explain what we were really planning to do, I figured it was easier to let them assume I was finally going to get some. Besides, if we figured out where Sebastian’s body was, I’d have to take a lot more time off work to go to China. Thank goodness, I already had a passport for those occasional trips down to Rocky Point to enjoy the Mexican beaches—that was one detail I didn’t have to worry about.
On Thursday, Alex and I went to meet Xu at a hotel near the airport that hosted one of the bigger shows. There were some merchants in the hotel ballroom and lobby, but the majority of the vendors bought booth space in massive, connecting tents set up in the parking lot.
As this was a wholesale-only event, only those with business licenses could attend and Alex had somehow secured the proper credentials for us to enter. He handed me one of two ID badges, both indicating we were buyers for Running With Scissors Jewelry Designs, which apparently was located in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. I was about to ask if either the business or the town actually existed, but as we walked through the front entrance, I lost my train of thought as I beheld the spectacle before me.
I should have had some pithy, articulate first response to the controlled mayhem, but all I could muster was an incredulous, “Whoa.”
The football field-sized tent was packed with row after row of tables, racks, and displays bursting with anything anyone might need to create personal adornments. Most of the really expensive stuff like—diamonds and pre-made gold and platinum jewelry were protected in glass cases, like the ones in jewelry stores—but there were also bowls filled with faceted and cut rubies, sapphires, and emeralds just sitting on tables, much like how one might put out M&Ms for a party. Strands of sparkling, semi-precious beads hung like Christmas lights from pegboard walls temporarily erected to exhibit the wares. In booth after booth, the scene was repeated hundreds of times in an overwhelming hodgepodge of colors, shapes, and textures. The multitude of languages people were speaking, most of which I could not identify, only added to my sense of wonder.
The aisles were crowded with buyers perusing the merchandise and I noticed armed law enforcement personnel at each exit. That made sense—the combined worth of everything in this tent was probably similar to the GNP of many a small nation. While Alex figured out where Xu’s booth was located, I watched in fasc
ination as a man handed over five grand in cash to purchase Australian opals, all of which fit into a tiny, tiny plastic zip-top bag that he stuffed into his shirt pocket.
Because Xu knew Sebastian well, even with his mixed heritage, he would be able to sense Sebastian’s essence in me. While the pearl merchant might not completely understand what was going on, he was a notorious conniver and couldn’t be trusted not to divulge the information to someone for the right price. Alex explained that as long as he and I stayed in physical contact, he could mask Sebastian’s essence. It wasn’t possible to eliminate all traces of magic, so Xu would believe that I, too, was Courso, but at least Sebastian’s spiritual disembodiment would not be discovered.
Alex motioned to me to follow, and I noticed that as we made our way toward the back of the second tent, he sometimes gave a small nod to a vendor or two along the way.
“Do you know those guys?” I questioned, surprised that he might know anyone here.
“I don’t know them per se,” he began, “but the Coursodon have dominated the bead and pearl trade for centuries. We can sense each other’s magical signatures and it’s considered impolite not to acknowledge a fellow Courso. You should probably do the same.”
I had forgotten that I was sending out other-worldy vibes and wasn’t aware that we would be around Coursodon other than Xu.
“Why would people with magical abilities be drawn to this particular industry?”
He stopped and pointed to a strand of impossibly small tanzanite beads, each not even as large as the head of a pin.
“Do you think someone without magic can make all these teeny, tiny little holes in these beads?”
Xu’s spot was larger than most, taking up the equivalent of four or five of the average booths. There were tables surrounding the perimeter, with two small openings to allow passage into the interior, which was filled with more tables. Every inch of which were covered with mounds of pearls strung temporarily in individual sixteen-inch strands bunched in larger groups of like-strands called hanks. Round ones, square ones, pearls shaped like buttons or corn flakes. Most were natural shades; white, cream, grey. Some were dyed so that one could acquire pearls in almost any conceivable shade. The truly amazing thing was as varied and plentiful as were the offerings, twenty other merchants throughout the building were selling the same sorts of stuff.
