by Cutter, Leah
For as wild and fierce as Caleb could be, was it just a cover for his lack of courage? He’d fallen asleep, sated and sticky, before Kai could ask him what last night’s job had really been all about.
Mind, she’d been sleepy and sated as well, both body and soul pleasured and warmed by him.
Kai’s shirt and skirt lay on the floor next to the bed. Even though the room swam in the scent of sex, sweat, and Caleb, she could also smell yesterday’s dust and dirt on them before she picked them up. She sighed again, resigning herself to putting them on.
No matter how often Kai ended up here, she refused to leave clothes at Caleb’s place: a way of convincing herself that it was just about sex and work, nothing else. Not that she was entangled with a xita shape changer, her heart attached to his.
After a quick shower (at least Caleb had unscented shampoo and soap) Kai walked into the kitchen. Though she smelled the bacon cooking, she was still surprised to see Caleb there, dressed in a new red polo and white shorts, the gold of his medallion peeking through the open neck.
Kai kissed his cheek, then teased, “Couldn’t make your getaway?”
“Wounded, I am wounded, darling, that you’d think such a thing,” Caleb drawled. He gestured at the table.
Kai poured herself a cup of coffee, then took the hint and sat down as he served her a heaping plate of eggs and bacon.
The bruises on the backs of Caleb’s calves were already fading, almost hidden by his dark skin. The most obvious sign of the fight from the night before were the scratches on his arm and a long, already healing cut along the side of his jaw. By the end of the day, even those reminders would be gone.
“So what happened?” Kai asked, plucking a fork from the jar of silverware on the table.
Caleb dug into his eggs, not looking at her.
Before he could lie, Kai added, “Please.” She waited in silence, trying her food. The eggs were perfect, fluffy and cooked with cheese. Not that she’d ever tell Caleb that, and risk derailing the conversation.
“Randall did tell me that you’d be the best one to help,” Caleb eventually admitted. “But he didn’t ask for you, or tell me that I had to work with you.”
“Did you even try to find someone else?” Kai asked. He should have told her about Randall before they went to the warehouse.
“I did ask my brother, Blue,” Caleb said. “But he was busy. And besides, Randall was right. You were the best.”
“Do you think Randall wanted me because of the key? I don’t think you could have found it,” Kai mused. “Or because maybe I could have sweet-talked the guy?”
“I didn’t know sweet talking was one of your specialties,” Caleb teased.
Kai huffed in annoyance.
“Maybe if you spoke some Mandarin, you could have gotten that guy out of the warehouse,” Caleb added
“Mandarin?” Kai asked, pausing, the fork halfway to her mouth.
“He was Chinese,” Caleb said with a shrug. “Spoke Mandarin. I know you don’t ever want anything to do with anything Chinese, but maybe it’s time you took a look.”
Kai squirmed, uncomfortable. She’d stopped asking Papa about Mama years ago: her questions had always led to fights. She’d forbidden Caleb from asking around the xita community as well. She’d even gone so far as avoiding everything Chinese, including the food.
Maybe it was time to ask Papa again.
“Who was that guy? Who did he think I was?” Kai said. She remembered the shopkeeper from the day before, who’d also mistaken her for someone, or something, else.
“I don’t know,” Caleb admitted. “He ran out after I killed the other dog.”
“What about the third dog?”
“Got away,” Caleb growled.
They ate in silence for a bit, before Caleb said, “I’ll ask Randall—”
“Don’t,” Kai said firmly. She couldn’t hide her involvement. Randall surely had others who could sniff out her presence in the warehouse. But she never wanted to be beholden to that old man. “No. I’ll find out myself. How he was involved, why he wanted me.”
Caleb snorted. “Really?”
Kai didn’t want to find out about Mama. She’d left Papa, left the hospital after the first time she’d gotten a good look at Kai.
Now, Kai needed to find out more.
“It’s my job, isn’t it?” Kai asked, pushing her plate away. “To find things.”
Though Kai suspected she wasn’t going to enjoy the hunt this time.
* * *
Kai wandered home and took a second, longer shower. She had a job and could pay the water bill on time, so she reveled in the hot water. When she finished, she discovered Papa had called, inviting her to a late lunch. He was doing a job out in the Garden District, and had left a message with the invitation and an address.
Manuel, the cab driver who came to pick Kai up, turned out to be a huge Saints fan. Sliding into the cab was like entering a shrine, but his devotion didn’t make Kai nervous.
The car seats wore brand new black and gold covers, which Kai bet Manuel replaced every year. A black and gold feather boa had been tacked along the inside rim of the windshield, and Geaux Saints stickers covered the dash, hiding the car’s age. A tiny combination DVD and TV sat in the passenger seat up front, endlessly looping the games.
Manuel bragged that he’d had season tickets for fourteen of the last twenty years. His chosen team represented everything about his adopted country—underdogs but go-getters who could score big, just like he had after coming to the US from Mexico. His enthusiasm made Kai grin.
After Kai paid, Manual passed his card over to Kai, along with his personal number on it, saying she should always call him when she needed a ride.
Kai thanked him and tucked his card in with the others in her wallet. Maybe now that she had money, she could set up a tab with one of the taxi companies so she wouldn’t always have to carry cash.
The diner sat north of St. Charles Street, a small neighborhood bar that also served burgers, sweet potato fries, and po’ boys. It had originally been a grocery store, back in the fifties, and the old-fashioned refrigerated case next to the register held fresh-baked pies.
Papa had only finished half his Coke by the time Kai arrived, so she knew she wasn’t too late.
“Hey darling,” Papa said, standing to give her a hug. “How’s my best girl?”
Kai hugged Papa tight for just a moment. He was warm and solid under her hands. If she sometimes spun around too fast, searching for things, she could always find solid ground with him.
“I’m good,” Kai assured Papa. “How’s the job coming?” she asked as she sat down.
Papa wore a clean, dark-blue work shirt, with his name, Frank DuPrie, embroidered over the golden crest for the company, Dunbar Plumbing and Electric. Papa talked sometimes about Mr. Dunbar, how he’d been the only white man who’d hire a black man for skilled labor and pay him right, back in the bad old days. Though Papa was now in his sixties, with all white hair that he wore tightly cropped to his skull, he kept working for the company.
Fanning himself with the menu, Papa told Kai about the backwards plumbing job he was fixing. The bushings on the sink drain had been tightened so hard they’d snapped in two, then just left there and not replaced. No wonder the sink had leaked. The water lines had been reversed as well, hot and cold. It was a mess.
Kai relaxed, listening to Papa spin stories. They’d had some rough years when she’d been a teen and much more wild, but they’d settled into something comfortable, finally.
The waitress brought Kai her own Coke as they started talking about the family: the trouble Kai’s cousin Daryl had gotten into, what Kai’s two aunts—Bella and Zeline—were doing out in Baton Rouge (Papa had seen them over the weekend), how her cousin Alicee’s pregnancy was going.
“It’s a good thing I decided long ago that I don’t need grandchildren,” Papa added.
Kai rolled her eyes. “Which is why you bring it up every time yo
u see me,” she pointed out.
“Well, just because I don’t really need ’em doesn’t mean I don’t want ’em,” Papa replied with a grin. “You still dating that boy? Caleb?”
“He’s not the marrying kind,” Kai said, swirling the ice around in her glass. She loved Caleb, but he was also xita. She’d never marry one of them.
“You ever going to find the marrying kind?” Papa asked.
Kai just shrugged. Orlan, the other guy she’d been dating for about three months now, was human and more settled, but he was white, and Papa would have words with her about that, as he’d had about every white boy she’d dated.
Though Papa had married a Chinese woman after a whirlwind courtship, he’d never remarried. It was one of the reasons why Kai was shy about relationships—Papa had been in more than she could count, but had never given his heart away like that again.
After the waitress had delivered the meal and the check, Kai told Papa, “I got a job.”
“A real job?” Papa asked suspiciously.
“Papa, I have a real job. My own real business.”
“Finding things.”
Kai shook her head. They’d had this argument before as well. “This time it’s a person,” she added quietly.
Papa glared at her. “Don’t you be getting into trouble with the law.”
“It isn’t like that, Papa.”
“Some rich white woman, right?” At Kai’s nod, Papa sighed and said, “Well, you know you can call me if you need help.”
“Thank you, Papa,” Kai said. She knew she could count on him for anything, even though she’d never told him about her extra abilities. She also knew he kept a revolver in the kitchen and a shotgun in the bedroom, ready to protect his family if he needed to. “You going back to see Aunt Bella and Zeline this weekend?”
“Maybe. You want to come?”
Kai bit her lip. “If this storm don’t get better by end of the week, you get everyone up there.”
They’d been lucky last time. The lady in the wall had warned Kai that if that bitch Katrina came, she’d better run. Her family had listened to her, and had had the means to leave.
Many—too many—hadn’t.
The memory of Rilke’s rushing water, unstoppable, drowning everything in its path, washed over her, and she shivered.
After Katrina, their family had stayed divided, with Papa’s sisters staying in Baton Rouge, along with some of her cousins.
“You sure?” Papa asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Kai said.
Papa pressed his lips together and looked away, uncomfortable. His mother, Grandma Lavine, had had some sort of gift, and had told the family Kai had it as well. Kai had never met her, had never been able to figure out if she was fully human or something else. Though Papa didn’t like it, he’d learned to trust Kai when she was serious.
“You’ll leave, too?” Papa asked.
“Promise.”
“So where you looking?” Papa asked, switching their conversation to something easier.
Kai smiled. Only Papa ever offered to help her find things. “There were these shops on Tulane. Chinese knickknacks.”
“I know the ones,” Papa said flatly. “You call me before you go there.”
“What?” Kai asked. “Why?” Papa had never said something like that. Not ever.
Papa looked out the window, at the street hazy with construction dust, then back. “Your mama used to work there,” he said finally, addressing the table.
Kai had had no idea. “Really? When?”
“You just be careful,” Papa said, picking up the check from the table. He stood up and kissed Kai’s cheek. “I gotta get back to work. You call me, you hear?”
“Yes, Papa,” Kai said meekly, too stunned to say anything more.
A Southern man never rushed a meal. Particularly not for work.
It didn’t occur to Kai until later that Papa was afraid she’d just disappear into those shops, like Mama had.
* * *
Without planning on it, Kai found herself standing outside a supposedly abandoned gas station in the Marigny. She debated leaving. Did she really want to see Orlan? Maybe he could help. Plus, she trusted her instincts. She hadn’t purposefully walked this direction, but here she was, anyway.
Two derelict concrete islands sat in the middle of the open area in front of the gas station. Discarded wrappers, empty soda cans, and yellowing newspapers had washed up on the edges of them, as well as the edges of the building. Ivy hung down over the crenelated brick walls. On one side of the building was a boarded-over window, covered in graffiti, where the shop office had been. A huge garage door made up most of the other half, equally tagged.
In the center stood a door, mostly hidden by the ivy. Kai’s questing fingers found the secret doorbell and pressed it, in case Orlan hadn’t seen her walk up.
The door opened with a quiet click. The smell of urine, mold, and rotten oranges pushed out. Kai held her breath as she quickly walked down the trash-covered hallway. Graffiti spread across the stained walls, and the ceiling dropped down in more than one place.
Kai pushed through the door at the far end, shutting it firmly behind her. AC blessed her skin. A complicated filtration system scrubbed the air, so it always smelled fresh, like after a thunderstorm. She stopped herself from brushing at imagined ants and spiderwebs from the outer hall.
In here, complicated electronics schematics covered the walls like pale green and gray modern art. A daybed with a stainless steel frame sat in the corner, the only soft surface in the room. Computer parts, LEDs, paper, and wires lay in articulated piles on the black metal shelves lining the stark white walls. More than a dozen computer screens sprouted in one corner, with half a dozen keyboards at various levels—Orlan’s command center.
Not a speck of dust or dirt dared linger. Kai always felt she should take off her shoes, or take another shower, when she stayed here.
However, the first time Orlan had brought Kai home, she’d nearly turned around and left when he’d opened the front door. He’d told her it was his protection: Anyone who broke in wouldn’t think there was anything worth stealing, and wouldn’t go any further. He’d shown her some of his other defenses as well, the razor wire under the ivy and over the window out back.
Only after Orlan had told Kai of his past, growing up orphaned, living in the streets for almost two years, had he told her the other reason he kept the hall that way: to remind him every day of where he’d come from, so he’d never go back.
Ever.
Orlan rose from his chair—another piece of modern art, though comfortable—and kissed Kai on the cheek, the perfect boyfriend. “Hey there,” he said softly. He wore a clean white T-shirt and slouchy, green camouflage pants. His blond dreadlocks hung down almost to his waist, and always smelled of the cinnamon oil he used to keep them conditioned.
They’d been dating only for about three months. Kai had told him when she’d met him in a bar that she was already seeing someone. He hadn’t cared, and had never asked again.
Kai slipped her arm around Orlan’s waist and laid her head against his shoulder, soaking up his calm. It was what had drawn her to him in the first place: He felt like such a solid anchor. It was why she kept coming back, too. She didn’t love him, but that was only a matter of time.
“You hungry?” Orlan asked, kissing the top of Kai’s head.
“Just ate with Papa,” Kai said. “But I wouldn’t say no to an iced coffee.”
“Coming right up,” Orlan said, leading her back into the kitchen. Though it also held gleaming stainless steel and black enamel equipment, it felt more homey. Dark green tile covered the countertops. Warm wood, mahogany and cherry, made up the cupboards and chair rail. Light filtered through the ivy covered window, dappling the red tile floor.
“So, how’s your week been?” Orlan asked as he tied his dreads back into a ponytail.
Kai leaned against the cool porcelain sink and told him about the new job. Like
Papa, Orlan never asked too many questions. Kai assumed it was because his own work wasn’t necessarily legal. When she’d asked what he did, he’d told her he bought and sold things on the internet, and refused to answer any more questions after that.
After Kai finished, Orlan kept his back to her as he poured the coffee over ice and asked, “Would you like some help?”
Startled, Kai automatically said, “No, I—”
“I bet I can find footage of that shop on Tulane,” Orlan interrupted. “And maybe more information on that abandoned mall.”
Kai took the iced coffee from Orlan and thought about it for a moment, reminding herself that she needed to trust the instincts that had brought her here in the first place. “That—that might be nice,” she admitted.
“Thank you,” Orlan said, his blue eyes bright and happy.
“What, y’all are helping me,” Kai said with a grin.
“Yeah, but you’re letting me,” Orlan said. He took his own drink in one hand and Kai’s hand in his other. “Come on.”
Kai wondered at Orlan’s eagerness. It seemed significant to him that she let him help.
Then again, Kai hadn’t ever told him that much about her job, or what she did. He didn’t know about any of her abilities. The one time Kai had teased him about his “science fiction” setup, he’d ranted about fantasy and fake science, and how he always needed to live with real things, provable, quantitative things.
Since Kai’s abilities couldn’t be measured or explained, she didn’t think she could share them, either.
It took Orlan about ten minutes to hook into the video cameras at the shop on Tulane.
“How did you do that?” Kai asked before she could stop herself.
“Magic,” Orlan said, grinning.
Kai looked at Orlan sharply, but he just continued to smile at her. “Thanks,” she said, leaning in to kiss his cheek, breathing in his scent.
Still purely human.
Orlan found two views, one from inside the shop and one from across the street, showing both the shop and the service alley next to it. A loading dock with a single metal door blocked the end of the alley.
“Looks like the shopkeeper has some problems.”
