by Daniel Gage
There was a good chance one or both of them could lose their lives in the next few days, and any emotions or feelings that didn’t involve the case at hand would only be a distraction.
CHAPTER 27
Alexandre didn’t sleep much anymore, never for more than a couple of hours before some pain or discomfort threw him from rest.
Typically it was a round of violent coughing, sending more blood out of his weakened body than he thought he should have available. Others it was his stomach, to wretch up bile into a nearby trash can. It had gotten so awful that his doctor started to give him transfusions every day as well.
His doctor urged him to see specialists, to be evaluated for surgery, anything other than simply treating the symptoms.
But Alexandre would hear none of it. He knew the cause of his ailment, and only one man held the cure.
Yet, even in the dead of night and unable to sleep, the dealer was still able to sneak up on him.
“Hello, Brian,” Dealer X said.
Alexandre’s skin crawled at both the surprise and the name, both of which were replaced by anger.
“Don’t call me that,” Alexandre snarled. “What the fuck has taken you so long?”
“Like I said, it’s complicated,” the dealer said. “Your Unborn. He’s too strong to kill, at least not without trying to make an offer first.”
“An offer?” Alexandre said. “Look at me. I’m wasting away. With the amount of weight I’ve lost in the past couple weeks, I’m a shell of what I was. It’s only a matter of time before I’m unable to move, to speak.”
“It won’t come to that,” the dealer said calmly. “But remember, if you’re too ill when the Unborn dies, you may not recover. Your only chance is to help sweeten the deal.”
“I know, but anything is better than this,” Alexandre said. “And with how far things have come, what could possibly persuade him?”
“I have a plan,” Dealer X said. “The man has weaknesses, vulnerabilities. We can exploit them to our gain. He’s strong, and if he serves well, and can do the job I envision him doing, it’ll bolster your livelihood, too.”
Minutes ago Alexandre was willing to do anything just to have his health back. But now, it seemed there was a chance to not only recover, but even retrieve his good karma. He thought he had plateaued, that his wealth couldn’t grow any higher.
But if his Unborn continued to commit horrible crimes …
“He’s that strong?” Alexandre asked. “How strong?”
“Your good fortune should give you an idea,” the dealer said. “You picked well for your birthright, but you also know how much you’ve expanded that. Sure, some might be skill, but certainly, you’re not so ignorant to not realize there’s more at work.”
“I always had a feeling, an intuition he was alive,” Alexandre whispered. “Sometimes I felt lucky enough that if I bought a lottery ticket, I would win.”
“Unlike before?” Dealer X said. A small grin betrayed his emotion. “Surprised the gambling hasn’t followed you.”
“There are many other pleasures,” Alexandre said. “But I’ll admit, sometimes I partake. Just to realize how disgusting it really is. But, please, change the subject. What do you need from me to make this happen?”
As Dealer X told him the elaborate plan, Alexandre’s mind wandered. The comments, the name, the questions brought back too many painful memories of his time before this, before wealth and status. He worked hard to erase his past, if only from his own mind, but it still sneaked up from time to time.
Like his accent trickling into his voice when he’s frustrated or stressed. Or the habitual longing he felt when he saw a casino, or heard someone talking about playing cards.
It wasn’t who he was anymore, but it was still there, somewhere.
“My sources tell me they’ll be arriving in Paris soon,” the dealer said. “Are you up for traveling?”
“For this?” Alexandre asked. “I’ll make the effort.”
CHAPTER 28
“Emma, wake up. You’re talking in your sleep again.”
Cam’s words were quiet but firm, and between that and him shaking her shoulder, she was brought out of the nightmare.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. She was really surprised she even fell asleep, and was suddenly thankful someone had been willing to trade seats so she and Cam could sit next to each other.
There was plenty of noise on the large jet, and it sounded like a few kids were playing from the area where his seat was assigned. And considering how tense he had been while boarding the plane, she could only imagine that he was counting the minutes until they landed. She didn’t dare think about how he reacted during the small bits of turbulence.
They arrived early in the morning, and Emma worked quickly to get them a rental car. At the same time, she secured directions to a hotel that took cash and didn’t ask many questions.
Though they had made it this far, discretion was still a major requirement for Emma. She was hesitant to use any of her aliases, certain that her former employer was keeping tabs on her and Cam.
The pair didn’t speak much as they navigated the maze of city streets until they arrived at their hotel. It was dark and quiet, just the way she hoped. And, thankfully, cleaner than that hovel they stayed in outside of Boston.
“I’m going to take a shower and try to clear my head,” she said after they got their keys and dropped their bags off in the room. “Paris is a big place, and we’ve got no leads.”
“I saw a café down the street,” he said. “I’m feeling restless, and I need a drink.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” she said. “I’ll meet you there.”
**********
Cam left the hotel and headed for the cafe he had seen on the corner. He hoped it wasn’t too early for them to be open, as his appetite still didn’t seem suppressed ever since the fight in the hover station.
At least he hadn’t felt hungry during the flight. The nerves from flying distracted him fairly well, although the fatigue from being inside an iron box several miles in the air presented new issues. He’d be up for trying anything, from running down the side of buildings, bungee jumping, rock climbing, but he doubted he’d be able to jump out of a plane. Ever.
The air was brisk, the cold reminding him of Boston. Except in this city, Cam felt more comfortable, though he couldn’t explain why. Everything was foreign to him, from the language, to the signs, to the way people dressed and managed themselves in public.
None of it made sense to him, but it seemed like he could fit in here with a small amount of effort. Although he fully acknowledged the idea that it could just be that he didn’t want to fly back to his country, and instead, was figuring out how to finish his days without ever getting on a plane again.
He gently pushed on the café door and was relieved when it eased open. The noise of the street vanished as he entered, and saw the place was empty except for one waiter by the bar.
“English?” the waiter asked.
“Yes,” Cam replied.
“Sit wherever you like,” the waiter said.
Cam picked a table near the middle and sat down as the waiter approached.
“What can I get for you?” the waiter asked.
“Coffee, and whatever you recommend,” Cam said. “I’m starving.”
The waiter gave a knowing grin. “I’ll be back in a few moments.”
Cam allowed himself to relax as he looked about the restaurant. It was small but comfortable, able to seat maybe fifty patrons. It wouldn’t take much staff to manage it, but with the busy foot traffic outside, he imagined it got quite popular at lunch and dinner.
Art hung on the walls, and most of it presented paintings of people from an era long past, as well as views of what he assumed were the French countryside. One in particular caught his attention. A long grass field extended into the distance to a large manor, and children ran about and played with a pair of dogs, while the parents watched on.
I
t was serene, and a life any would wish for, but few had the means to achieve. Something like that would take immense wealth and time, and a life you would have to be born into.
Cam stared at it longer than he realized, then turned back to glance out the window.
But he never made it that far.
A man had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and was sitting at his table. He didn’t know his name, but he could recognize the face anywhere.
“Hello, Cameron,” Dealer X said, his voice even and calm.
Cam didn’t react, but his mind spun through the possibilities. It wasn’t an obvious ambush, but an attack could still be imminent. He was unarmed, but a set of silverware was before him. A butter knife and fork could become effective weapons, but the dealer was likely better armed, and with friends.
“Relax,” the dealer said. “If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have seen me coming.”
“Like you tried before?” Cam asked through a tense jaw. “You haven’t had much success yet.”
“Touché,” the dealer replied. “But I’m not here to fight. I’m here to talk business.”
“Nothing you can say would interest me,” Cam said.
He was going to do it. Cam decided he would grab for the utensils and strike, hoping to at least distract Dealer X. Then he could run outside, into public, hopefully find Emma, and disappear to regroup and plan.
But they needed a lead to prevent the birthright theft, and here was the man committing the deed. Hopefully, maybe Dealer X would say something, anything, to give them an idea of how to stop it. Assuming he lived long enough.
“Something is happening to you, and you don’t know what or why,” Dealer X said. “And all your life, you’ve never felt complete, never felt like you belonged. Like you got dealt a short stick, where someone else is enjoying what should be your benefits. Your life.
“If I’m wrong,” the dealer continued as he leaned forward on his elbows, “I’ll leave, and we’ll go about our own ways. Am I wrong, Cameron?”
Cam felt light-headed, and it took all his willpower not to waiver. The dealer knew. He knew why Cam had felt so lost in his life, why holding down a job was so difficult, as was school. Why crime was more of an escape than a way of life. And why he was suddenly stronger, faster, healed quicker than most people, and why time seemed to slow down.
All he had to do was say that he was right, and give in to a conversation with the enemy. He had to be prepared for lies, that the dealer would tell him what he wanted to hear.
But it was more than he had gotten anywhere else so far.
“You’re not wrong,” Cam whispered.
“Good,” the dealer said. “I’m going to have a friend come in. You have to give me your word that he will not be harmed under this roof, no matter how badly you might want to. If you do, you won’t get your answers, and we’ll disappear. Understood?”
Cam nodded. “Yeah. I understand. I won’t hurt him under this roof.”
Dealer X pulled a phone from his pocket and pressed a button. “Bring him in,” he said.
He disconnected the call as he slid his phone back into his jacket.
Silence hung in the air for a long second before the door opened. Cam turned to see a man who looked maybe in his mid-thirties, but his frail condition made him look significantly older. He looked like some of the people Cam saw at the hospital, the ones confined to beds because they lacked the strength to maintain themselves.
The man, with the assistance of two others, hobbled his way to Cam’s table. A third person also entered, a woman, but she remained by the door. One of the men pulled out a chair and gently eased the sickly man into it, who sighed with relief. Though once the men left his side, his stare turned to Cam, a gaze that looked simultaneously malicious and fatigued.
“Cameron, meet Alexandre,” the dealer said. “He’s the same age as you, and until a few weeks ago, was at his peak health. Wealthy. A beautiful woman at his side. Spending his days on a yacht in the Mediterranean. But he’s lost his health, and his woman. His riches? Well, it’s safe to say he doesn’t care about that right now.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cam said. “But what does that have to do with me?”
“Because you’re the one killing him, Cameron,” Dealer X said.
“Impossible,” Cam said. “I’ve never seen him before today. I’ve hardly been outside of Boston, never even seen the Mediterranean.”
“You’re killing him because he’s a Benefactor,” the dealer said. “That’s what we call those who benefit from birthright theft. About three and a half decades ago, I helped him commit the theft. He stole the birthright from the unborn child of a wealthy French couple.”
“So?” Cam asked. “Again, what does that have to do with me?”
“Did Agent Jennings tell you what happens to the victim of birthright theft?” Dealer X asked.
“No,” Cam said. “I assumed they were just lost.”
“In a way, yes,” the dealer said. “Are you familiar with the concept of karma, Cameron?”
“Yeah,” Cam said. “It’s where you do something good, and good things happen to you. Same with bad, do something bad and bad things happen. Right?”
“Basically, yes,” the dealer said. “The soul of the original child isn’t lost, but sent to be born under horrible circumstances. From that child’s perspective, the cards are always stacked against him. He can’t do anything right. No matter how hard he tries, or how many good deeds he does, karma always seems to have it out for him.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Cam said.
“It doesn’t, but it also does,” Dealer X said. “The Shifters designed it that way. It’s also the only way to protect the Benefactor from violent and unexpected karmic retribution. When a Benefactor’s soul takes over, he and the original child’s soul become linked. At least from a karmic perspective. Everything good that happens, it happens to the Benefactor. Everything bad, to the displaced child.”
“That’s fucked up,” Cam said. “Why the hell would these, what, Shifters? Why did they do that?”
“They do what we command,” the dealer said. “They work with us. But the thing is, there are loopholes. Ways the displaced child has a chance, instead of getting shit on their entire lives. It’s difficult, but it’s possible. It takes a great act of selflessness, something incredible, to shift that karmic balance. And when it does, it lashes out against the Benefactor in very damaging ways. Like Alexandre here.”
Cam again turned and looked at Alexandre, who also seemed to have gotten worse from the moment he walked in. Some of his few remaining strands of hair had fallen out onto his shirt, and a coughing fit covered a napkin in blood.
“These souls that the Benefactors displace, they’re called Unborns,” the dealer said. “Do you understand, Cameron? Do you understand now, how you’re killing Alexandre?”
Unborn. That word stuck in Cameron’s mind as it spun into the abyss. Memories of recent events fired in his mind, starting when he saved Henry’s life at work. The untimely arrival of his mother saved him from the fate suffered by his criminal acquaintances. And his new abilities, emerging just in time to save his life on more than one occasion.
“There it is,” Dealer X said. “I see it on your face. You realize it, don’t you?”
“No, this is impossible,” Cam whispered as he shook his head. “It can’t be.”
“It is,” the dealer said. “You’re the victim of birthright theft. Alexandre is the Benefactor of that transaction. And you, Cameron, are his Unborn.”
CHAPTER 29
“That can’t be true,” Cam whispered, but even as he said the words, he knew it was the truth.
It explained so much. Hell, it explained everything. Why nothing ever went right, why no matter how hard he tried he could never get anywhere in life.
And to think it wasn’t his fault, that it was because this Alexandre person had wanted his life. That this sickly, dying man cheated death and fate
to steal Cam’s birthright, and bestow a lifetime of shit luck on Cam.
Now he understood why the dealer had asked him not to lash out at Alexandre.
“Show him the mark,” Dealer X said to one of the men.
He wasn’t gentle with Alexandre, and the sick man looked like he might break as the larger escort pulled up his shirt and turned him, exposing Alexandre’s back to Cam.
It was a mark, nearly identical to the one on Cam’s back.
“The Sanskrit, it matches yours, doesn’t it?” the dealer asked.
“Almost,” Cam said.
Suddenly, all eyes locked on Cam. Even Dealer X showed a rare emotion, a mix of surprise and confusion.
“What do you mean?” the dealer asked. “It should be identical.”
“Mine’s a bit more faded, and not as filled in,” Cam said. “But if it was, yeah, it would be identical.”
“Show me,” Dealer X ordered.
Cam hesitated for a moment before lifting his own shirt to present the marking on his back. He no longer cared about exposing himself, or letting himself be vulnerable. This was the most he’d ever learned about his life, and if he had any chance of knowing more, he had to play along.
“I’ve never seen that before,” one of the men who escorted Alexandre said.
“It’s certainly different, isn’t it?” Dealer X said. “It may explain some things.”
“Explain what?” Cam asked.
Dealer X shook his head. “It doesn’t matter right now.”
“It sounds pretty important,” Cam said.
“Not right now, it isn’t,” the dealer replied. “We need to focus on the task at hand before your friend interrupts us.”
Emma. He had been gone for some time, and she agreed to meet Cam here.
“If you did anything to her—” Cam said, but the dealer cut him off.
“Of course not,” Dealer X said. “How could we offer you a deal if we started off with violence, Cameron?”
