The Blood In the Beginning

by Kim Falconer

  The ride home felt more companionable than our earlier conversation in his car. Daniel insisted we stop at a sushi train for a quick bite. By then I was starving. I didn’t ruin the meal by accusing him of atrocities or pressing for personal information. Like, were you born, or did you rise from an underwater tomb? When we parked outside my apartment, he leaned in to kiss me and for a second I was swept away. Energy tingled through my body like a low voltage shock. When he sat back, I was still purring with it.

  ‘Shall we have dinner tomorrow?’ he asked, tucking a stray hair behind my ear.

  ‘I’d like that.’ It felt like I was floating on clouds.

  Once inside my apartment, the bliss lasted all of five minutes. I shook my head as if my brain had been abducted, and only just returned. The past twenty-four hours washed over me, and I felt a rush of anger. I just wasn’t sure at what. I threw my gi into my backpack and changed into jeans, a black sports bra, white tee and my Converse high-tops. Time to head to the academy. Maybe after a few hours of going hard on the mats, things would make more sense. Besides, there was something I had to face. Right now it felt like the perfect distraction. I checked the time schedule and ran to the bus stop hoping my stalker wouldn’t choose now to attack. I really didn’t want to miss training.

  * * *

  The afternoon air was sultry. Inside, it wasn’t much better. I paused at the door, swallowed the lump rising in my throat and entered. Time to apologise and join the regular classes again. I kept my eyes forward, feeling the stares on my way to the lockers. There were plenty of empties on the girls’ side, nothing new there, but I sure wasn’t expecting the bright chipper face looking up at me as she wriggled out of her short dress. ‘Zoe?’

  ‘Ava! You made it.’

  What the hell is my ex’s new girl doing here? I sucked in a breath. ‘You’re training now?’

  ‘It was my idea, but Tom encouraged me. He’s so supportive, don’t you think?’

  I thought a lot of things, none I cared to share. ‘Today’s your first day?’

  She nodded, her blonde hair falling over her face.

  I unlaced my high-tops, dropped my jeans and peeled out of my tee. While I tied my drawstring pants, I glanced at her again. ‘You’ll want to braid your hair, or put it up.’ I pulled a hairband off my wrist and handed it to her. ‘Lose the bracelets, necklace and the gum.’

  She smiled, and did as I said, looking about ten years younger with a braid than she had a moment before, which, of course, made her practically pre-teen.

  ‘I hoped you’d come. Reception was majorly serious with all those release forms. Any tips?’

  ‘Yeah. Don’t talk, unless you have a really good question.’ Okay. That was rude, but the last thing I had in mind for when I delivered my apology was to have Zoe listening in. Super-size humble pie.

  She dropped her eyes, looking like I’d slapped her.

  Shit. I put my arm around her for a nanosecond and pulled her into me before letting go. ‘I meant, pay attention to the professor, and don’t worry. I’ll keep you under my wing.’

  She brightened, and kept quiet. When we bowed at the doorway, and onto the mats, Jeff and a few others greeted me. Of course, their eyes were popping at Zoe. It was like I’d brought them an after-school snack. You dogs … I nodded to them, glacier cool. ‘This is Zoe. She’s here to train.’ The emphasis was on the serious nature of our practice in martial arts. They didn’t take the hint.

  Jeff thrust his hand out to hers and shook it. He seemed to have completely forgotten the trauma of the other night. If he only knew what happened after. ‘Great to have you here, Zoe. Don’t let Ava give you a hard time. If you need a mentor, I’m your man.’

  Oh puh-leeze! ‘Cool your jets,’ I said to him under my breath.

  The others closed in on Zoe, giving me a wide berth. ‘So how’d you two meet?’ Jeff asked.

  ‘Don’t answer that,’ I said to Zoe.

  ‘I’m dating her ex,’ she said at the same time. ‘You know him? Tom. He’s dreamy.’

  My face heated. I’d thought the hardest part of today would be delivering the apology. Guess I was wrong.

  Rourke was there, and Dom. No sign of Jimmy. He wouldn’t be back on the mats for a while yet, and by the look in Dom’s eyes, he blamed me for it. Well, why wouldn’t he? I hospitalised the bastard. And he started it.

  After warm-ups, Rourke called on me, as expected. He looked like he’d lost weight. I thought about that for a second, then shoved it aside to clear my head. Public speaking was not my thing, especially ad lib. I stood in front of the class and stumbled through an apology. They listened without any show of emotion. I returned to my place and class was underway, training as usual. I wasn’t stripped of my belt rank and kicked out, so all in all, it went pretty well. Zoe looked at me with new eyes, putting it together, I guess. She’d walked in on me and Tom a few hours after I’d lost it in the cage. Weird thing was, in her expression, I saw respect.

  Every guy on the mat volunteered for Zoe duty, but Rourke picked me, thank the demons and gods. Someone had to orient her and I wanted to make sure it was done right. In other words, my way. She was too old for the kids’ class, but only just, and that was my domain. I taught her basic drills and showed her a few techniques. When it came time to spar, we rolled a bit. She used the ‘takedown’ I’d taught, pretty damn effectively for her first try. Better than I’d imagined, but to be honest, I wasn’t expecting much. Zoe was full of surprises. Which Tom saw without looking, I guess.

  Halfway through the class, Rourke ran off the mats and spewed.

  ‘Is he alright?’ Zoe asked.

  ‘It happens.’ To white belts …

  In the lapse before Dom stepped up, I caught a wave from the door. A woman with a clipboard and mic smiled, her camera crew setting up behind her. Oh hell! Jen Bradshaw, from LA-Live. The interview was today! I bowed off the mats and had a quick chat, camera rolling. She fired questions and filmed the rest of the workout. I gave her Zoe for the wrap-up. Nothing like a fresh face, full of enthusiasm to put shine in the story.

  Jen followed us back into the locker room where she and Zoe chattered non-stop. The two couldn’t seem to can the excitement, which was actually pretty cool.

  ‘Ava! That was amazing!’ Zoe said after the news team left. Her face was flushed, her eyes shining, blonde hair limp with sweat. ‘I can’t believe how good that class felt.’ She took a big swig from her water bottle and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘You were amazing! Wow. I had no idea I’d like this so much. It’s … it’s …’

  ‘Empowering?’

  ‘Hell, yes!’

  I nodded. ‘You’re hooked.’

  ‘I can’t wait to tell Tom.’

  I knew I shouldn’t ask. It was none of my business, but the words were out before I could stop them. ‘How’s that going, you and Tom?’ We still hadn’t talked since the other night and I missed my friend.

  She beamed. ‘He’s wonderful.’

  ‘Yeah. He is.’

  ‘Tom’s been so into “us” lately, you know?’

  She didn’t wait for a response. ‘We’re going out tonight, sort of an early double birthday celebration.’

  ‘When’s yours?’

  ‘I’m June twenty-third and he’s the —’

  ‘Twenty-ninth,’ I said without thinking.

  ‘Amazing, isn’t it.’

  I was about to say, one in twelve people had the same sun sign, but didn’t. ‘Where’s he taking you?’

  ‘Poseidon!’

  ‘Wow.’ I couldn’t believe Tom wanted to go there. He wasn’t the clubbing type, or at least, he wasn’t when we were dating. But then, when we were together, it was sex, study, sex, class, sex, food, repeat. I don’t think we ever went out. Maybe he’d been holding back on the nightlife, for my benefit. Working as a bouncer took a bit of the glamour out of clubbing; he knew I wasn’t into it. Still, Tom’s idea of a ‘best date ever’ was a home cooked dinner, NetCinema
and me. At least that’s what he’d said. I conjured a smile out of thin air. ‘I hope you have fun. You deserve it.’ That wasn’t a lie. Zoe’d worked her butt off in class and for all her perky sparkle, there was potential there. ‘Do you have a lift?’

  ‘Tom’s picking me up. We can —’

  ‘I’m walking, thanks.’ I gripped her shoulder. ‘Good training, Zoe, and thanks for doing the interview. A new student perspective will add appeal.’ I closed my locker and headed for the door. ‘See you next class. Schedule’s on the desk.’

  She gave me a hug and left.

  I hung around until Rourke came out of the toilets. ‘You okay?’ Because you don’t look it. Rourke’s skin was pale and sweaty.

  ‘Stomach bug. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘So what happened with the perp? We get a line on the copycat? DA make a deal?’

  I knew by his face the answer wasn’t good.

  ‘He walked.’

  My hands went up. ‘No way! It was broad daylight. Witnesses. I’ve the bruises!’

  ‘Seems he wasn’t read his rights.’

  ‘Wrong!’ I shouted.

  ‘Calm down, Ava.’ Rourke didn’t look happy about the situation either. ‘Some hot-shot lawyer got him off on false arrest. No priors. We couldn’t hold him.’

  ‘This is bullshit.’ I looked around for something to kick.

  ‘I agree. But nothing we can do now.’

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. ‘We have to catch these guys, before anyone else is killed.’

  ‘Just keep doing what you’re doing. We’re getting close.’

  ‘Right. I’m walking home.’

  Rourke pulled out his phone. I didn’t hang around to watch, but I knew he was sending my tail after me, on foot. I hoped our perp would take the bait.

  * * *

  I had a lot to chew on, what with the emotionally bi-polar day. Maybe the late afternoon walk home, with droning traffic and rhythmic pace, would calm me down. I can’t believe those guys got away. I waited for the pedestrian light to turn from green to green. The city didn’t cater for the colour blind. Was it too hard to consider almost a tenth of the people in the world? I crossed with a horde of office workers, and set out toward home. After six blocks, the sun was low on the horizon and I was halfway there. I’d processed my way to the fact that I could breathe underwater. I hadn’t even gotten to the Teern part.

  It wasn’t lost on me that Daniel Bane, a Shen Mar according to Rossi, was wooing me. It was so strange. When I was near him, I trusted him completely, but the longer I was out of his space, the more I wanted to speculate. Trouble was, nothing really stuck. I pressed my hands to my temples trying to force logic back into my brain. I rolled my shoulders and spun around. What was that? I listened for a moment. Nothing.

  The setting sun cast long-fingered shadows. Traffic turned bumper-to-bumper. Hello, rush hour, which should be renamed crawl hour. If I cut across a few alleyways, I’d be in my kitchen, cooking up organic pad Thai in no time. The thought lit me up, so I stopped at the Asian grocery store and stocked up, grabbing rice noodles, tofu, bok choy, fish sauce, bean sprouts, chilli, garlic and a small portion of organic, free-range chicken. Damn, it was expensive, but non-organic wasn’t safe and non-free-range was horrid. I left the store, toting my bag full of gym gear and food. I strode down the streets, acting as if I didn’t have a care in the world. But I did have one. A big one.

  Along with the scent of gas and fumes and garbage and cat piss, and some incredibly awesome bakery breads from the next street over, came the hint of predation. I was being followed. The face of the copycat came to mind and I shuddered before drawing in another breath, slowly filtering out the scents.

  Among the eclectic mix of molecules, I caught the scent of the sea. Not a crazy occurrence, when the wind was onshore, but it wasn’t today. I kept breathing it in, refining and teasing out the notes that formed the score of the aroma. Yeah, smells were like songs. Really. In this one, there was brine, fresh and brackish water, kelp, fish — a lot of fish — and the sweet hint of emotions. Strong ones. Joy, or maybe enthusiasm. Lust? Whoever was out there enjoyed tracking me. If it’s my tail, gotta say they love their work. They were good at it too. I couldn’t spot them, save by the scent. I listened harder.

  The world amplified around me in the most dizzying way. It wasn’t noisy or overwhelming; more riveting, like listening to a symphony and being able to distinguish every sound wave from tuba to piccolo, bass drum to cornet. Rephrasing that, it wasn’t as melodic as a symphony. I heard car horns, road rage, toilets flushing, couples fighting, trash tipping, drug deals going down, but also old ladies selling flowers to lovely young men and dogs chasing Frisbees in the nearby park. Who knew dogs sounded so damn happy? After a few minutes of nothing, in terms of the stalker-type person, I gave up. Probably my LAPD tail, anyway.

  The sun melted away, replaced by the glare of streetlights. I walked toward a big glass window, the storefront of the local 7-Eleven. The building was plastered with posters, ads and flashing lights, but the doors were clean, reflective as a mirror in this light. When a man exited, the door swung my way and in its reflection I saw someone climbing the fence behind me. I turned down a side street and leapt over a row of garbage bins. Hopefully, my tail was snapping photos about now, gaining enough evidence for a positive ID, and an arrest if he slipped away again.

  The stalker walked right on by, long bare legs and all. Holy shit! She was a woman, a foot taller than me, and not wearing a hell of a lot. Salila! My dive buddy. Rossi’s something-or-other. She was dressed in cutoff jeans and a neon, road worker’s vest. Where the hell did she find that? More to the point, what was she doing following me? I set down my gym bag and, on a wave of adrenaline, I sprang.

  It took her completely by surprise, which startled me even more. I landed on her back, slammed my arm under her throat and squeezed the chokehold, hard. The next thing I knew, she threw me over her shoulder and I was flat on the ground, staring up at the smog covered evening sky and yellow streetlights.

  ‘You want to tumble with me, skinny fish?’ Her pointy canine teeth were showing very clearly.

  I answered by springing to my feet, taking a deep stance and cutting loose a roundhouse kick aimed at her smartass mouth.

  She was in the air before I had a chance to connect, somersaulting high over my head. Salila landed behind me and slammed me back to the ground. ‘Tag. You’re it.’ She cackled witchy laughter. ‘Is that what you still say, or have I been gone too long?’

  I didn’t dignify her with an answer. Actually, I didn’t have the breath to choke one out. I was all kinds of winded, and all kinds of pissed off. ‘You bitch. You’re on my turf now.’

  ‘That’ll matter?’ She dove on me before the words were out.

  Apparently not. We scrapped in the alley, knocking over garbage cans and smashing into walls. I threw her into a window, shattering it. She shook it off and pounded me into the pavement with her nearest weapon. I think it was a trashcan lid. My ears were ringing after that. Dogs barked. People yelled, ‘Shut up out there!’ and threatened to call the police. That got my attention. I could see Rourke’s face now. Hey, detective. Meet Salila. She’s not human, and oh yeah, neither am I. You don’t mind if we bash the crap out of each other, do you? Family quarrel. That would go real smooth … not. This had to stop! Was the tail capturing us on film?

  The man with the camera? He’s taking a nap.

  Great. I made the sign of a ‘T’ with both hands and shouted, ‘Time out!’

  She clocked me with an uppercut. It sent me flying into a pile of junk. Damn, it hurt. It took me a while to pull myself upright. ‘What the hell, Salila? I said time out.’ I did the ‘T’ sign with my hands again. It was universal, right?

  Maybe not. She was coming at me, a pipe in her hand.

  ‘Salila, stop! The cops will come.’

  Like I care?

  ‘You will, I promise. They’ll lock us both up and then what? I hear y
ou don’t fare too well on land, without a regular dose of blood.’

  I’ll have you to drink on, sweetcakes. She kept coming.

  ‘You think?’ I shifted my weight to my back leg and brought my fists up to guard my face. ‘Ever heard of solitary confinement?’

  That checked her pace. Solitary what?

  ‘Just like it sounds. You, all by yourself in a sunny, east-facing cell. You may be strong, Salila, but you can’t chew through iron bars, can you?’

  ‘Maybe.’ Her brow wrinkled. She showed me her canines. ‘What do you think?’

  Her voice, spoken aloud, was beautiful. Lilting. Beguiling. But when she used her thoughts only, I saw into her deeper side, a flash of memory perhaps. It looked like a cell, cold bars, a jailer. Then a whole lot of blood and gore. Behind it all was the booming voice of Teern, and holy massacre, was he pissed off. Her approach was tentative now. I sidestepped around, keeping distance between us. ‘He doesn’t know you’re here, does he?’

  I do what I like.

  ‘I see that.’ I swallowed my fear and stepped up to the Mar woman. ‘You might want to have a rethink.’

  She gave me a mischievous grin and tossed the pipe. ‘I have. You can take me to your home.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  So I can see how you live. After all, if you’re going to be involved with my brother, I have a right to know.

  Brother? My brow crunched at that. ‘I’m not involved with anyone at the moment.’

  Don’t tell him that. He’ll go into one of his century-long broods.

  ‘Who the hell’s your brother?’

  Don’t be dense, please. I couldn’t stand it if you were an imbecile.

  ‘Rossi’s your brother?’