Triple Infinity

by K. J. Jackson

  “Sorry again, love. Not funny yet.”

  “Not funny. Ever.” Her words were scolding, but her voice still managed to be light. Triaten wasn’t sure how she managed the paradox, for her entire body was choking in indignation.

  “I am going to go wash the filth off of me — again.”

  “Can I do anything, get you anything?”

  She shook her head. “Just leave me alone. And promise me I never have to cross path with either one again.”

  “Done.”

  Shiv walked away, and had reached the porch stairs when Triaten interrupted her. “Shiv.”

  She turned and looked at him, ebbing fury now replaced with drooping shoulders.

  “Thank you. You’ve done more than you’ll ever know.”

  Shiv just shrugged, non-belief evident, and went into the ranch.

  { Chapter 6 }

  Triaten knocked lightly on Shiv’s door. It was late morning and the smalti tiles from Italy had just arrived. He wasn’t sure if she’d be happy to see them, or still be in the throttle-him mood. He knocked again.

  No answer.

  Triaten was on the stairs going back down to the main level when the front door opened and Shiv walked in, a dreary blast of cold drizzle flowing in around her. Rafe trotted in at her heels.

  Her eyes were alight as she closed the door and stepped into the foyer. She pushed back her hood and pulled ear buds out of her ears when she saw Triaten on the stairs.

  “Did I see the delivery truck coming up? Rafe and I were walking on the trail by the road and I saw the truck go by. Did they bring what I’m hoping for?”

  Triaten stepped down the rest of the stairs, a bit leery at her cheer. Rafe took the moment to dog-shake. Wet droplets went flying.

  “Really, Rafe?” Shiv wiped a spot off her cheek that had splattered up, then bent over and scratched him under the ear. “You’re just lucky you’re so darn sweet, puppy.”

  “Shiv, first, about last night.”

  She stood up and waved her hand to stop him. “Don’t worry about it. There wasn’t much choice at the time. It was unfortunate, but I’m a big girl and I’m past it.”

  “Really?” Triaten frowned, still skeptical.

  “Really. Now, about this delivery. I’m not sure I actually believe you got them here in a day, but I’m willing to be impressed by your wizardry.”

  Man, she can compartmentalize, Triaten thought. But he’d take it. “Well then, prepare yourself to be dumbfounded by my resourcefulness. All of it came, the tiles — they’re in the library. Along with all the cement and tools you should need. Shall we go take a look?”

  Shiv was like a kid on Christmas morning when they got into the library. She scurried from box to box for an hour, pulling out the small square tiles, in all possible colors. The glass tiles with particularly beautiful depths of color, she would hold up to the dreary light coming in from the window, studying the color, how it reflected, and how it moved in and out of darkness. She didn’t hesitate to make Triaten her manservant, directing him to pull out sets of tile and position them throughout the library, so there was ample room to work.

  All the boxes opened, she pulled out several more detailed sketches that she had done that morning before her walk with Rafe. She began to scale up the scene and do a rough trace on the floor. Triaten was well-aware she was in her element, the passion for the work evident in her flushed face and near manic work. He didn’t think she noticed when he left the room.

  Triaten interrupted her after a couple more hours. Stewart had made a huge spread for lunch, per Triaten’s request, encouraging with full bellies the sequestered negotiations that had been going on all morning between DeLisio and Shafar. Also a step in the right direction, Triaten was pleased that each had only one additional man in the room. Hopefully, that meant real progress.

  He stepped into the library to see Shiv balancing on the arms of a chair from the study across the hall. She held her hair back in a ponytail as she stared down at the outlines on the floor from her high perch. She didn’t acknowledge Triaten come in.

  Triaten sighed. He wasn’t going to let Shiv sacrifice eating for his floor. It was clear from her work when she first got there, and now with the tile, that she ignored everything around her when she was engrossed in a project.

  He cleared his throat. Shiv jumped, and almost slipped off the chair before catching her balance. She shot him an annoyed look and stepped down off the chair, quickly kneeling down with her pencil and elongating the arm of one of the goddesses. Happy with the change, she looked up at him.

  “A little warning, next time? I almost broke my neck.”

  Triaten hid a smile. “I was standing there for five minutes. That was the warning. And you could have asked for a ladder. We do have several around here.”

  “Okay,” she stood up, tucking the pencil behind her ear, “I need a ladder.”

  “All yours. But you need to come eat lunch first.”

  “I’d rather keep working.”

  “Understood. But I’d rather you stop for a moment and eat. I don’t even want to think about all the explaining I’ll have to do when your sister gets back, because of our...activities. So don’t put me in the position of having to explain the malnourishment of her little sister, too.”

  Shiv crossed her arms. “Skye doesn’t need to know anything about what we’ve been up to. And I doubt she’d even care if she did know. She likes you, right?”

  “She does. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “Then why would she care if we’ve been enjoying each other’s company? I’m guessing her life hasn’t been the purest.”

  Triaten shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You’re her little sister. And Skye is nothing but all-out when it comes to those she loves. That, I’ve seen first-hand.”

  “Well then, we just won’t let it slip.” Shiv looked down at the outline of the figures on the floor, then back up at Triaten. “Okay, I’ve been officially interrupted. I may as well eat. Have you already eaten?”

  “Just waiting for you, love.”

  ~~~

  Triaten and Shiv sat opposite each other at the large wooden table in the kitchen, lounging over the Russian Chicken Kiev and roasted vegetables that Stewart had managed to save from the voracious appetites of the twenty-plus French and Arab men.

  Stewart was already busy preparing the dishes for dinner, and the clanking and sweet smells in the kitchen created a warm refugee from the chill that had moved in with the mist. Rafe sat, per usual, at their feet, waiting for a morsel to be dropped.

  The phone rang, stopping Triaten’s fork halfway to his mouth. He watched over Shiv’s shoulder as Stewart wiped his flour-covered hand on his apron, and picked up the phone. He listened for a moment, and then held out the phone to Triaten.

  Triaten pushed back the wooden bench, and grabbed the phone. “This is Triaten.”

  A gasp echoed at the other end of the line, and then the smallest voice followed. “Triaten...”

  Triaten turned away from Shiv to face the back door. “Charlotte?” Disbelief laced the word.

  “Tri...I...oh god — I don’t know what to say...” her voice petered out as the line crackled.

  An awkward pause elongated before Triaten spoke, his voice now hard. “Why did you call?”

  “Tri. I don’t know. There’s something going on...And I missed you, your voice.”

  “I’m going to ignore the last part.” He paused, pulling the phone away from his ear and almost hanging up. But he had to ask. He put the phone back to his head. “What is going on?”

  “I know I shouldn’t have called...”

  “No. You’re right. But now that you have, what’s going on?”

  “I’m not quite sure. It’s just a feeling, I guess. Something is in the air here.”

  “Is there anything concrete that you know of?”

  “No.”

  “Then what is it, Charlotte? Is this just about the flame moon? Are you just looking for s
omething to happen?”

  “I don’t know, Tri. I guess...” There was a long stretch of silence on Charlotte’s end. “I guess I shouldn’t have called.”

  “No. You shouldn’t have.”

  A sigh, stifling a quiver, came softly over the phone. “You still there?”

  Triaten didn’t answer her right away, instead, his eyes closed as his chin went down and he leaned his forehead against the door.

  “Tri?”

  “I’m here.”

  “I just need you to know...” she stopped as her voice cracked. A deep breath, and her voice came back strong. “Take care, Triaten.”

  With no answer, Triaten hung up the phone, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do with that random phone call.

  He turned around to face the kitchen. Stewart had, at some point, exited the room, but Shiv still sat at the table. The moment he turned around, she jerked her eyes back to the table, busying herself with her plate.

  Triaten walked silently around the table and sat down across from Shiv. He stared at his half-full plate of chicken, but made no motion to continue to eat.

  Shiv nibbled, watching him for several minutes. “So that was her? You want to talk about it?”

  Triaten’s head jerked up, looking at Shiv sharply. Wordless, he got up from the table and walked out the back door into the drizzle.

  { Chapter 7 }

  It had been dark for hours when Triaten made it back into the ranch. He passed by the library, only to see it empty. No Shiv. He made his way back to the kitchen, where Stewart was prepping fruit for the morning. He gave Triaten a nod as he walked in.

  “Shiv around?” Triaten asked.

  “I haven’t seen her since this afternoon. She asked who she could get to take her into town to pick up her car. Said she was feeling claustrophobic. I told her to ask one of the ranch hands.”

  Triaten inwardly sighed — who could blame her. “Who took her in?”

  “Sammy, I think. He was gone for a few hours and came in late for dinner. Didn’t ask him, though.”

  “And Shafar and DeLisio status?”

  “Still secluded in the Fireside room. Wanted brandy about a half hour ago. Not sure where their gaggles are.”

  Triaten nodded. “Thanks.”

  He left the kitchen and went back to the library and turned the light on. Everything was exactly as Shiv had left it before lunch. He walked in.

  Her pencil still sat on the floor where she had dropped it next to the sketches. He doubted she had even been back in there since he left her in the kitchen. He picked up an indigo tile, flipping it in his fingers as he held it up to the light. If she pulled it off, it was going to be a masterpiece of a mosaic.

  “Triaten, call for you.” Stewart stood at the library doorway, phone in hand.

  Triaten’s gut sank. He hadn’t even heard it ring. He grabbed the phone and braced himself. “This is Triaten.”

  “Triaten, Joe here. I think we’re about to having a situation down here at the bar. I would have just called over to the hotel for back-up, but it’s about Shiv. She’s not in the best frame of mind, and we have a slew of those guys that are staying up at the ranch in here. They’ve already driven out everyone else. So it’s just me and her right now, if you get my drift.”

  “I got it. Do you think you can keep things at bay till I get there?”

  “Should be okay. My bat’s handy. But be quick.”

  “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

  Triaten booked it out the door and down the mountain in twelve minutes. It wasn’t fast enough.

  After a quick check in the bar, only to find it mostly empty, with no Joe or Shiv — just a few of Shafar’s men at a pool table — Triaten went back out into the street.

  The ruckus that came from behind the bar told him instantly where they were. He tore to the back of building, where a yellow parking light flickered under the mist that had turned to sleet.

  Joe had positioned himself against the back wall of the bar, bat raised and ready to crush any of the nine drunkards in a half-circle around him. The drunks were jabbing in and out, trying to draw a swing. Pack mentality — someone would take the first hit, and then the rest could attack. Triaten scanned through the jerking bodies, searching for Shiv.

  When he finally caught a glimpse of her, she was terrified. Terrified and pissed. A hand clamped onto Joe’s back, she had half-wedged herself between Joe and the wall. Her black shirt was torn and half-hanging down her body, her skin raw to the cold and dim yellow light. Triaten noted in relief that her bra and jeans were still intact.

  Joe caught Triaten’s eye and started to swing at the same moment Triaten smashed two skulls together as announcement of his presence. The first three fell to the ground.

  Joe swiped his second swing, when he took a vicious punch to the jaw, sending him stumbling back against the wall, nearly smashing Shiv. With swift kicks, Triaten took out two more by removing their kneecaps. Five down.

  Propped on the wall, Joe tried to get his head about at him just as two more advanced on him and Shiv. Seeing Joe waver, Shiv grabbed the bat from his hand and swung, eyes squeezed shut. She made hard contact with one of the drunks on the arm, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. Three heads taller than her, he laughed as he ripped the bat from her hands. He threw the bat away from the group, and advanced on her. He reached down with a thick hand and grabbed Shiv by the neck, pushing her body back toward the building.

  Triaten dodged two flailing punches. Easy, since both men projected their thoughts long before their fists were thrown. In battle, Triaten could effortlessly read people, their next moves, and their fear. And if they hadn’t been attacking Shiv, Triaten maybe would have felt a little sorry for them, taking him on. As it was, he grabbed one of them and ruthlessly rammed him headfirst into the wall. The man crumbled. Triaten turned to the other punch-thrower, swept his feet out, and then fed his face to the rocky ground. Seven down.

  “Little slutty bitch.” The thickly accented words turned Triaten’s head. Shiv clawed at the arm that had her choked to the wall, her toes no longer touching ground.

  He ran at her, elbow up and busting the face of the drunk attacking Joe along the way. Triaten’s first punch broke the man’s contact with Shiv, sending him stumbling down to his knees. Nine down.

  But Triaten didn’t stop. He kicked the choking bastard hard in the stomach, knocking him flailing, flat onto his back. Triaten could feel bones breaking in the man’s face as he bent over and pummeled his head. Punch after punch.

  It wasn’t until he heard Joe’s voice yelling at him, breaking his fog, that he halted his arm in mid-swing.

  “Triaten, you gotta stop it, man, before you kill him!” Joe shook his shoulder.

  Triaten looked up at Joe, then back down at DeLisio’s man. He was out cold, his face mangled.

  Triaten shot straight up, taking a step back from the limp body. He slowly scanned his surroundings. There were only twitches from the fallen nine.

  His eyes landed on Shiv. She slid slowly down the side of the building and contracted herself into a ball, her head buried in her hands.

  He looked at Joe. “Thanks, Joe. Sorry you got caught in it.”

  Joe gently rubbed his jaw, as blood seeped from a split-lip, courtesy of the well-placed punch. “No problem. Just happy you showed up. I realized too late what was going down. You know I wasn’t giving her up without a fight.”

  Triaten nodded and patted him on the shoulder. “I do. You’re a good one, Joe. Thanks.” He pointed at Joe’s face. “And you need to go get stitches on that.”

  “I guess.” Joe shrugged. “I just hate waking up Doc Smith.”

  “He won’t mind. He knows you fight the good fight.”

  “He’s gonna be pissed at you, though, having to clean up this mess.” Joe tilted his head at the nine lumps on the ground.

  “Give him my apologies.”

  Joe threw a thumb at Shiv. “You got her?”

  “I do.” Tri
aten’s eyes shifted to her huddled form.

  Joe went in the back door of the bar, and Triaten walked over and sat down next to Shiv, leaning against the wall. Her head remained hidden, tucked into her bent knees. There wasn’t much movement and Triaten wondered if she was silently crying or passed out.

  He slid his hand under her dark hair onto the back of her neck, and gently stroked the long divot. He leaned into her ear. “How’s your throat, love?”

  She pulled her head up and looked at him. No tears, but her cheeks looked flush in embarrassment.

  “Rough –” she coughed as the word stuttered out. “Wow, that’s a sexy voice.”

  “You want to tell me how all that happened?”

  Shiv looked down into her knees, picking at her jeans. “Not really.” Her voice still sounded scraggly. “I can be a stupid drunk, sometimes.”

  He reached around her and pulled up her torn sleeve to cover her bare shoulder. “I doubt you were looking to get attacked by a gang of drunkards.”

  “No. But I’m also smart enough to know not to entice. And when it’s time to leave.”

  “So what happened?”

  She shrugged her shoulders, looking up at the foggy mist, rays from the yellow light twinkling in the wet air. “The smart was replaced by stupid, I guess. I was just lucky Joe has a bat handy. God, I hate being weak.” She looked at Triaten. “And you. Holy nasty mother eff-er — where did you learn to fight like that?”

  Triaten chuckled. Okay, so maybe she was still a little drunk.

  Her eyes narrowed at Triaten. “You’re going to tell me to not ask questions again, aren’t you?”

  An arm flailed on one of the prone bodies in front of them. Triaten stood up and held his hand down to her. “We should get out of here before they all wake up and realize what just happened to them.”

  She grabbed his hand and got to her feet. “You’re avoiding the answer.”

  “Indeed, I am. Come on, we’re taking your car back up to the ranch, so you have it and can come and go as you please.”

  They stepped around the bodies littering the rocky parking lot. At the last man, Shiv paused, looking down at him in the dim light. It was the one that had been choking her. His face was a bloody, mangled wreck.