Saint And Sinners (49 page)

Now Saint was fidgeting. He rocked about in his chair the way his second son did when
he was being scolded.

“You were in New York for exactly seven hours, seven minutes and three seconds when
the clock stopped. You were chosen as King the day you were born, and it was confirmed
after you passed your entry test. This is a test given from the Angels in heaven to
every potential Angel Child ruler. After you defeated Nzism, it was confirmed. I’ve
known for a rather long time. It was not my responsibility to tell you, though.” The
man gently touched his chest, offering sincerity in the midst of the heavy news.

“How long is long?” Saint asked.

“When Lawrence brought you to me, as soon as I touched you, I knew who you were and
what your destiny was.”

“But Krishna.” He wanted to plead his case, and maybe even plead the fifth. “I don’t
want
to rule over anyone. That’s not me.” He touched his chest earnestly as well, hoping
for a chance he could convince the powers-that-be to pick someone else.

“You have no choice in this, Saint.”

“But beforehand, you said we do have a choice! Just three days ago, you said we can
choose to acknowledge our powers, or not to. What if I just give all this up, huh?”
Saint threw up his hands. “What if I just say, ‘The hell with this!’, and walk away…focus
on the Rainbeau Knights, my organization and my sex therapy?”

“You can, you will. You will do all of those things.”

“I can’t be King of all these damn Angel Kids and do that too! I can’t give my family
the attention they need and deserve and run this, too!” Saint shouted. “That makes
no sense.”

Krishna grinned. “You’ve already been doing it, child.”

Saint grew silent once again, wishing he could swallow himself whole right then and
there and simply disappear. The same words he’d said to Xenia in a moment of encouragement
were coming back to haunt him.

“Let me explain this a bit better to you.” Krishna sighed and leaned forward. “You
are rare, but there are others like you. The hubs have never had Kings before. This
is a fairly new development. It was decided that this should take place, so the likelihood
of abuse of power would no longer continue.”

“And who decided this, Krishna? Egypt? They are their own parliament now, and I have
no doubts Isis will make the official word of such once she understands it to be so.
I’ve already told people I don’t want to do this sort of thing! Who is making these
choices regarding our lives?!”

“…The Creator. He tells the Angels, your parents, and they pass the message along.”

Saint slumped down in his seat like an old sack of potatoes, rolled his eyes and wearily
ran his palm across his lips. He collapsed even further into his seat.

“L.A. also has a hub, Saint, and that appointed King will look over all of California,
just as you would New York, but that is not where you were destined to rule from.
Thus, you got the notion to move, to escape, to run away. That did not happen by mere
coincidence. You wanted to come home because home
wanted
you to come. It is your destiny. You were simply being trained in L.A, and now, it
is time for you to take the reins. L.A. has a King, and he will be alerted soon. Phoenix
and Chicago have an Angel Child King; he is being told about this at just about the
same time that you are…”

“Countries all over the world are being set up for this shift. Tokyo and Delhi and
Shanghai, for instance, are hubs, too. Egypt will always be Mecca, but the distribution
of power is being changed to better help mankind. Our forefathers have learned a valuable
lesson.
Never
give a human too much power. We are all human, and the Angels that created us thought
initially we could handle it, but we cannot. This way, you all form a council of sorts,
and work together. Saint, you are the Angel Child King of New York. Some call it the
King Angel Child—whichever you prefer is fine.” He smiled kindly. “Koki knows this,
and he understands what is about to transpire. He can either play by the rules, or
be destroyed. The only problem is, Koki is not accustomed to answering to others.
He is used to giving the orders. He is a very unique individual, not your average
Demon Child, so this may cause a struggle for you.” Krishna’s eyes narrowed. “Once
you make a decision regarding him, however, do not hesitate. The slightest delay could
cost you your life!”

He slammed his fist on the table, his eyes turning light blue at that instant.

“As King, you are simply a scale balancer. It doesn’t require you to act any differently
than you currently do, unless trouble arises. You only move, like a chess piece, if
a game is in motion… Otherwise, you keep your position. As we spoke the other day,
understand: all of that is the same. There has to be a proper balance. It is doesn’t
have to be perfect, a fifty-fifty split—that is unreasonable—but it cannot be severely
disproportionate, for example, as it currently stands.”

They both took a breather. The man was obviously trying to give him a moment to soak
in the information.

“New York has been poisoned. The people you saw in the old hotel will be of assistance
to you. They have been fighting a battle they could never win. Koki is cunning and
may be elusive, especially when he discovers you are actively looking for him. It
is not a cowardly move on his part; it is strategic. Koki fears
nothing
. That makes him hard to beat, but also more prone to failure. Fear helps us in this
regard. Fear lets you know when you are possibly going too far, saying too much. Fear
and anxiety serve a purpose.”

“So…here I am again. Facing another battle. The last situation I had to deal with
was in regards to my wife’s ex-boyfriend who nearly killed her due to his revengeful
actions geared towards me. Now, I have been tossed into an urban gang war… Krishna,
I’m
tired
…” Saint closed his eyes as a mixture of grief and anger encompassed him. “There’s
a lot going on. I’m running back and forth to L.A. for meetings, trying to get our
site set up here properly, too. I have conferences coming up. We have five cases behind
schedule because I haven’t had the time to even glance at the paperwork. I’ve been
running Lawrence and Jagger ragged. My son is going through changes and I can’t do
a damn thing about it. Do you know how worthless that makes me feel?!”

Saint’s voice trembled.

“My wife is going through changes, too. She just doesn’t realize I am more in tune
with her struggles right now than she thinks.” He rubbed between his eyes and swallowed
hard. “My wife…my wife, Krishna, is part of a movement, an important one, and she
doesn’t fully realize it yet. She’s coming into ‘the know’; she’s coming into her
own, little by little, but I had an important dream about this woman and…I need to
be there for her. I cannot be running off playing seesaw equalizer out here! She and
I are embarking on a new chapter of our lives and—”

“I know. And she is where she needs to be in order to do it. She is Queen, in every
sense of the word, Saint. Xenia, as your wife, is First Lady. Only, everyone but her
knows it.” The man smiled at him, patting his hand. “Again, we all have choices, but
in your case, you were conceived for many reasons. One, to help Rainbeau men, as you
call them, interpersonally connect with women of African ancestry. I know you take
that very seriously, and you are also driven morally to do so, whether you are aware
of it or not.

“Secondly, you were created to assist people in regards to intimacy issues. You are
rather gifted in this area. As you know, our Creator crafted lovemaking, and he wants
this to be a joyful time and experience for committed couples. Thirdly, Saint, you’ve
been assigned to rule over New York and help protect the balance between Good and
Evil. You are a leader. Accept it, stop acting brand new as you young people like
to say, and move on! Goodness, your stubbornness has drained me.” The man cracked
a smile. “It’s over with. Deal with it and get my lemonade please.”

Saint burst out laughing and got to his feet to haul his ass towards the kitchen.

You don’t argue with Krishna. You simply don’t and despite all that had transpired,
Saint felt better equipped, ready to step into the light and claim what was rightfully
his…

And his rightful property was…New York.

I’m home, Mama…

*

“Come on, baby!
It’ll be fun!” Xenia placed the silver, sparkly halter up to her chest and spun around
as if she were on ‘Dancing with the Stars’. “Besides, I start at the radio station
soon and this could be my last time to get out and live it up for a while. I need
time to get acclimated.”

Saint sighed and leaned back on the headrest, propping his arms behind his head. He
pressed his back further into the bedrail and stifled a yawn.

“What about the kids?” he asked groggily.

He still had a frog in his throat from his catnap a few moments earlier. The nap—he’d
savored all seventeen minutes of it.

“Already arranged. The nanny will be on duty this evening. She agreed, even though
we only hired her for daytime hours. Very nice woman.” She winked at him from her
reflection in the large, circular shaped mirror.

“You got some serious cakes, little mama, damn.” He bit into his bottom lip, his cock
rapidly extending and thickening as he took in her womanly shape.

“Don’t start.” She snickered and rolled her eyes.

“Little Debbie in the mothafuckin’ house! Or maybe it’s Sarah Lee. Regardless, I’m
happy like mothafuckin’ Pharrell Williams ’cause my soul mate could have had just
crackers.”

“Crackers?!” She turned towards him, the slinky, shimmery top in her hand.

How the fuck is she gonna fit that little ass top over those big ass titties?

“Yeah…some mothafucka’s asses so flat, it look like damn tortilla bread, some flatbread
crackers ’nd shit instead of cakes! Don’t you use baking soda or some shit to make
cake rise? Or is it yeast? Shit, I don’t know, but I bet that would work for some
of these flat asses I see around here. I could start a beauty healthcare line where
women just rub a baking soda solvent on their asses and then sit out in the sun. I’d
get a team of scientists to help me, get it FDA approved, Xenia!” He threw up his
hands in exhilaration. “I’d be a billionaire!”

“Saint! I’m so through with you!” She chuckled. “That’s what I get for asking. Anyway,
come on, get dressed,” she said, snapping her fingers at him. “You agreed to go to
this 70’s theme party Raphael invited you to. Come on now, it’ll be fun.”

Saint rolled his eyes and angrily tossed the covers off his naked body, like a tiny
child having temper tantrums. She shot him a threatening glance.

“Don’t give me a filthy look unless you plan on gettin’ down and dirty, too…standing
over there looking like Meagan Good with your eyebrow permanently up in the air. It
looks like a Nike swoop…just do it.”

“You are a regular ol’ smart ass tonight I see.” Xenia smirked and waved him off,
then grabbed a stick of dark red lipstick from the dresser. She removed the silver
and black lid and precisely traced her full, voluptuous lips. Saint smacked his own
in appreciation. Reaching between his legs, he grabbed the base of his dick and pumped
his hand. Xenia pretended to not see him, but her tight smile and deep forced concentration
as she applied her mascara said it all.

“Why don’t you get on this dick right quick…” he urged, his hips thrusting into the
air. He was beyond the point of redemption… He craved her pussy, needed it wrapped
around his cock.

“We don’t have time… Stop procrastinating.”

“Oh, we’ve got time.”

“The kids are awake and playing downstairs!” she whispered, as if they could suddenly
hear them.

“…We already got the bedroom sound-proofed last week.” He patted the spot next to
him, cast her a crooked grin, and winked at her. “Besides, this won’t take long, I
know I have to hurry and besides, we have the cameras. We can see them.” He pointed
to the side of the room where five black and white cameras showed activity in all
areas of the house. “I promise to be fast.”

“You always say that, and then twenty minutes later Isis comes banging on the door
askin’ for us to come out and play with her!” She forcefully pulled a drawer open,
retrieved an eyeliner pencil and yanked the cap off.

“If I can’t fuck you, right here, right now, then we aren’t going to the party,” he
said defiantly as he crossed his ankles and arms, a smug expression on his face.

Yeah…that’s how it’s going down, Xenia…

It was hard not to laugh and keep his stiff upper lip, but damn it, he was going to
try.

“That’s blackmail, Saint.”

“I don’t give a shit if it’s white mail, Asian mail or pin-the-tail on the mothafuckin’
donkey priority mail—you get your ass over here right now and let me get in them guts!”

Before she could protest, he was on his feet, pulling her by her hips into his arms
until she fell backwards with him onto the bed.