by Tiana Laveen
“How long before dinner? Do we have time for a quickie?” he whispered in her ear.
“Daddy!” Isis screamed out before he could get an answer. “I made a pretty picture of the house, and the school, and you, and Mommy, and ’Sani and DayDay.”
“Well, what are you waiting for, Picasso? Let me see it, Ms. Artist!”
“Okay!” The girl raced off. “And I’m not a pickle, Daddy!”
“I said Picasso, silly girl! Picasso was a famous painter!”
“Ohhhh!”
“These are your insane children, Saint … not mine,” Xenia teased.
“Yeah, they are.” He rested his chin between her neck and shoulder blade. “So how ’bout we do what we did to make them? I just need fifteen minutes … twenty, tops.”
“Saint, the kids are starving and the food will be ready in five minutes.”
“Ohhhh, come on!” he whined, his act complete with a stomp of his foot. “Just a few minutes, baby…” He snuggled her close to him, bumping his pelvis into her ass as she punched numbers into the microwave. “I’m starvin’, too. Don’t I get a special treat?”
“You’re not whispering anymore, Dad … geesh! Get a room!” Hassani looked at the two of them with utter disgust.
“Mind ya business, boy.” He spun around back towards Xenia who was now turning red, but grinning from ear to ear. Saint walked away from her in reverse, a grimace on his face.
“That’s oookay!” he said in his Tony Montana voice. “She’ll be back! Another Quaalude, she gonna love me again!”
“Boy, if you don’t go wash your hands and sit your behind down!” Xenia giggled. Saint slumped down in the booth seat next to Dakarai and began to help him with his puzzle. Soon, he heard the crinkle of paper as Isis raced towards him, holding her pride and glory.
“Look, Daddy! Here it is.” He grabbed the drawing and sat her on his lap.
“Well, would you look at this! Nice use of colors, baby. Hey, is that Mommy?” He smiled as he pointed to a stick figure woman with curly black hair.
“Mmmm hmmm! And that’s you, Daddy!”
“Why do you always make my head so big, Isis? Is that how you see me? Like a walking lollipop?” Dakarai, Saint, Isis, and Xenia all laughed.
“You’re cherry flavored, Daddy!”
“Oh, so you’re a wise guy, huh?! Well, you just bought yourself a ticket to see the tickle monster show!”
“Noooo!” the girl squealed as he tickled all up and down her body, making her turn red and slide off of his lap in a fit of giggles. Time ticked and an hour later, his stomach was full, the children were doing their own thing upstairs, and Xenia had let him know she’d be dismissing herself to go braid her hair. Pam was going to give her a sew-in once she returned home from her whereabouts. Xenia made her way towards the staircase, but he stood there, looking at her, curiosity born within him.
“Hey, where has your mother been hiding lately? Is she always out with Gaspar now?” He looked about the place. “For the past couple of days, I’ve barely seen her.”
“I thought you’d be counting your blessings.” The sassy woman put her hand on her hip and sighed. “When she’s not hanging out with Gaspar, she’s cooking, shopping, cursing someone out, or asleep.” Xenia joked. “Tonight, she happens to be on a date.”
“She’s really digging him, huh? I told him I didn’t want any more updates, so I’m in the dark about it now, but I’m glad they are still enjoying each other’s company.”
“Me, too.” Xenia turned to go up the steps.
“Baby, I’m having a meeting down here in about an hour or so. It’s a big one, so make sure the kids don’t leave their rooms, please.”
“And you’re just now tellin’ me?” Xenia put her hand on her hip. “Saint, you really annoy me with this crap.”
“But I just found out!” He threw up his hands.
“Riddle me this, Mr. Psychic who claims to never know anything, did you know this before you got home, or after?” He looked at her and swallowed. “That’s what I thought. You just make sure these people you have over here don’t eat us out of house and home like last time, and keep the noise level down. If I find out you’ve been smoking those cigars in the living room again, there’s going to be a price to pay. And trust me, you can’t afford it.”
“I love it when you threaten me, baby… Can I take out a loan? You do financing?”
The woman smirked and rolled her eyes at him, then disappeared up the steps. Saint made his way back into the kitchen and brought out cases of bottled water that they kept in the pantry. He carried them into the living room, then pushed the couches here and there to make more room for his guests. When the doorbell rang, a pang of dull pain rolled and turned within his stomach. He made his way to the foyer and opened the door to find Jagger, Cruz, and Lawrence waiting. The three men paraded inside, but Cruz paused and looked at him. The man’s pupils turned coal black right before his eyes. He placed his hand on Saint’s shoulder, and offered a half smile.
“The others are coming soon. Let’s get started.”
Eavesdropping was a contact sport. Xenia inched halfway down the hall, taking the smallest steps possible. She’d demanded her children all play in Hassani’s room and keep their voices down. Though Saint had been more forthcoming as of late, she still didn’t trust him to reveal himself completely. It was simply part of his personality to keep secrets, but she’d had enough.
I’m not going to be some sitting duck!
Standing there with half of her head in cornrows, she heard discussions of military tactics and enemy lines. It sounded like something her brother Ira would engage in, right before attacking an adversary. Her gut felt queasy with anxiety as the people talked, some cursing and demanding others to listen to their ideas. She hated that much of it, she could not understand some of what they were saying.
Talk of demonic hierarchies and more reigned over other topics. Krishna was on speaker phone, and though he always seemed calm, he even became irritated a time or two as everyone vowed to have their say. One thing was for certain: they were gearing for a fight, a nasty one that could take her husband away from her once for all.
I need to hear everything they are saying… Let me get a bit closer.
Creeping to the top of the stairs, she sat down, shrouded in darkness, hoping the truth of her husband’s plans would come to light…
“What we need to do is cause an internal war, just like what happens sometimes between Angel Children and Demon Children. Saint, like you and your cousin from Egypt, you know? I’ve been thinking about this for a while. We have to use tactile strategies. As Chief Officer of Defense, I say we need to cause a domestic disaster with the Demons!” Jagger yelled.
“That’s what I’ve been sayin’!” A short ruddy faced man with dark hair yelled who stood near Saint’s fireplace, clutching a water bottle so tightly, he thought it may burst. The classic rap station on the stereo had “Ya Could Wanna Be With Me” by UTFO on the air.
“Jagger is right!” One of the guys from Queens spoke up. “We can’t beat them like this. We’re Angel Children, not Superman. Look what happened to Saint? For Christ’s sake, he almost died dealing with one of them, so what the hell do we think will happen to us?”
“Three King Angel Children have died thus far messing with these monsters.” Alicia piped up, a tall, dark complexioned woman from Long Island sporting a closely shaved bald head and large silver earrings. “Their replacements have stepped in, but to be a King Angel Child is a birthright and takes years of preparation. If they are falling like flies, then we have to really be clear on where we are goin’ with this. We need to work smarter, not harder.”
“I have a family,” someone chirped. “I really shouldn’t be involved in any of this.”
“You fuckin’ coward, we all do!” came a response.
Saint wasn’t even bothering with keeping track of who was saying what. Everyone was shouting and talking at once.
“A
ll right, all right! Let’s not turn on each other. Look,” Saint said, breaking through the ruckus. “Before we get too far off track, we also need to look at how to address, ‘Hell Night’. We knew this was coming, revenge from the Demon Children; they’ve been waiting for a long time, ever since Koki’s death, honestly. They still outnumber us.”
“I keep hearing about this ‘Hell Night’, but I don’t know what that is,” Connie, a 23 year old from Manhattan stated.
“It’s a night when Demon Children go out and terrorize civilians here in New York City. It doesn’t happen every year. In fact, it can skip up to a decade but it’s planned for tomorrow. We got the inside scoop, thanks to Cruz. The problem is, this isn’t just for fun this time. It’s to hurt and, in some cases, kill—so say the direct orders from Hell.”
“In past Hell Nights over the decades, it usually was just mischievousness, but this time, they’ve been given instructions to do much more, just as Saint stated,” Cruz explained. “Saint, Jagger, Lawrence and I all had the same exact dream. We’ve got to get prepared.”
“We will. We just have to keep brainstorming how to get people assigned around the city since we don’t have all the bases covered.” Saint looked around the room, into the faces of his fellow A.C.s “Now, as far as Jagger’s idea, I do like it, but we need to fine-tune it and some portions of his suggestions will need to be replaced.”
“Like what?” Jagger questioned, sounding a bit offended.
“First of all, some of you may not be aware of this, but Angel Children cannot summon demons. We can deal with them the best we can once they are here, King Angel Children and Angel Child healers can try to banish them but it is considered a cardinal sin to summon them.” Many heads nodded in agreement. “In order to cause a fight, we’d need to summon at least two demons who despised one another, more than likely two who are very powerful but are fighting over possible territory or clout, and it can’t be any of the seven sins against one another, because they are basically coming from one source. That would be like me asking you to box your own self.” There were a few chuckles. “I think, in keeping the number small, we can better control the situation. The last thing we want is them figuring out what is going on and joining up against us. We’d have to bring them together and cause a distraction in their inner circle, just as Jagger said, but in a controlled environment.”
“Yeah, but what then? What if we do find a way to summon them within our bylaws by some miracle, Saint, and they don’t attack one another? I know it’s like the ultimate prize to get two demons to destroy one another, and that would definitely buy us time, possibly even years or decades since, according to Cruz, their hierarchy is more complex and fragile than one would think, but what if that doesn’t happen?”
“You have to make the deal too sweet to resist,” Lawrence said. “What you do, ladies and gentlemen, is cause chaos and balance simultaneously. That does two things. The chaos, as we know, is an invitation for them to come in. The balance upsets them, and they will want to wreck it. Present both in some way, and you have it made. When that happens, you have your solution at hand.”
A weary-looking Angel Child from Brooklyn, a man with short blond hair, leaned forward on the couch and said, “But where is the balance in that and who is going to put those damn demons back once we’re done using them? The plan is for one or both to be dead but what if the lone survivor feels empowered and tries to take us all on as a cherry on top? Cruz said himself that when a Prince Demon kills another Prince Demon, the one who lives gains the other one’s powers. He may have just enough strength then to pull a Rambo on all of our asses!”
“Exactly! You can’t trust them, and they’re not stupid,” someone yelled. Saint wasn’t sure who, half-lost in his own thoughts.
“It’s not about stupidity. It’s about remembering that they suffer from the same weaknesses as we do when it comes to the seven deadly sins,” Saint stated. “They are not human, but they mimic us in many ways, and they have some of the same frailties, the most negative ones. As opposed to us, they value those as strengths. Some of you are overthinking this. I agree that putting the survivor back in his sandbox will be a bit tricky, but it can be done. Now what did I teach you all about the sins?”
“They can be used as ammunition,” many said at the same time.
“That’s right. So, what that means is, whatever they enjoy, it can destroy them when done in excess. When you summon two elite, high ranking demons who hate one another, there is no way that both are leaving unscathed. We already know, according to Cruz, that in these cases, usually the dueling demons are always separated once it is acknowledged that they are having a problem, because they are destined to fight to the death. The balance that Lawrence spoke of will need to be evaluated, but we are working through this, all bouncing ideas off one another. I know it may seem daunting, guys, but we’re making progress.”
“But again, Saint,” the weary man called out. “from your admission, Angel Children can’t summon demons.”
“Yes, that’s right…” Saint glanced at Cruz. “But a Demon Child can…”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Creeping down the staircase, one step at a time, Xenia managed a peek at her living room, filled to the brim with Angel Children. She’d never seen so many in one spot in all of her life. Sweetness filled the room, like baskets upon baskets of roses. Saint’s gaze met hers, but he said nothing. He simply slid his hands over his knees, giving them a gentle rub, then crossed his ankles and leaned back in his chair.
“Hello everyone, I’m Xenia, Saint’s wife.” Everyone turned in her direction. Many dropped to their knees in reverence, making her uneasy as she swallowed down possible regret for interrupting the gathering.
“For those of you who don’t know her, this is my Queen, my other half … the best of me.” His tone was serious, his brows furrowed, yet she didn’t sense anger—only pride. “Those of you kneeling, you can get up.” The people resumed their seats and previous stances. “Xenia, baby, I take it you have something to say?”
Fiddling with her fingers, her bare feet sinking into the white, plush rug, she drew closer to her husband, then stood in the middle of the room.
“Yes. I have an idea I want to share. I know … I know I don’t know everything about Angel Children, despite being married to one and having three young children by him, who are all A.C.s, but I’m a devoted wife and mother. I listen to and speak to my husband every day. I raise my children, spend time with them, and learn about them each time the sun rises and sets. What I want to say is… I’m a civilian, but I do understand parts of you that some of you may not think about. I’m on the outside looking in, but sometimes, that vantage point has perks to it.” She glanced at Saint, who now wore a slight smile. “I’m not going to take much of your time. It’s been a long night and I know you all are tired, but I was listening to the powwow down here so to speak, and summoning demons to fight and throw them off course definitely sounds like a military tactic which may just work. I have no idea.” She shrugged. “Admittedly, this is not my expertise. I also understand that you’ve gotten wind of a disruption of sorts that will take place in the city, and well, you want to be prepared.”
“We have to be, or innocent people will die,” someone said.
“That’s totally understandable. But several people voiced concerns about how to control them, contain them, asking what if they turn on you? Some of you feel that you could be outnumbered, especially if the Demon Children from other jurisdictions join in, and the probability of that is high. Well, that is in fact one of my proficiencies. You see, where I come from, you fight fire with fire…
“Demons are from Hell, right? They were never human. They don’t have a soul. They never knew what it is like to love… to care… to be aware of compassion and empathy and show that to others. Even the worst people to walk this Earth more than likely cared about something. But demons don’t. Never did, never will. Everything created, whether human, creature,
or monster, can be destroyed—even if this happens at its own hands. My grandmother would drag me, my sister, and my brother to church practically every Sunday. Some say she did it because she had not been a good mother to my mama, so she was trying to make up for it through us. But whatever the reason, it taught me about God, forgiveness, and second chances. Someone tonight mentioned they have a family and don’t wish to take a risk. Being an Angel Child is dangerous work. It means you were hand-selected by God to fight Evil, because you’re special. But you’re also human. There’s no Ironman or Wonder Woman in this room … just flesh and blood. And as flesh and blood, and Angel Children, too, you knew you were born to possibly die for mankind, to make the ultimate sacrifice, but there’s nothing wrong with an added bit of insurance, right?” A good chunk of people in the room murmured in agreement. “All right, I need to show you all something…”
Xenia walked swiftly into the kitchen, retrieved the item she needed, and returned to a roomful of whispers. “This right here belongs to my mama. I always make sure she has these when she visits and you will see why in a moment. She was one of the baddest O.G.s in the Blood’s street gang, Piru. Piru is where it all started. These Bloods in New York are not the originals; they are different. They are still Bloods and are recognized as such—but it’s not the same, all right? My mother’s entire family, the few living after years of gang-bangin’, are Piru Royalty. My mother is no longer living that lifestyle—that’s the only reason she is probably still drawing breath. But she has told me several times over the years that although she left the gang, the gang never left her. It’s in her blood … in the way she speaks, the way she sees the world. It’s not who she is, but it’s a part of her intricate tapestry.
