“I can dig that…that makes since. What would you do if you found out this person had
been doing this? And on top of that, you know you will have to deal with him eventually
and when you do, it more than likely won’t be a friendly visit.”
“Saint, I’ve learned many valuable lessons in my life. One of which is, wherever you
direct your attention, that’s where your energy goes. Whoever and whatever you allow
in your world, in your interpersonal space if you will, you ultimately convert into
that. So…” She turned slowly in his grasp to face him, meeting eyes. He looked at
her lips, wanting to press his own to hers so badly, but he felt so intrigued by what
she was sharing, he didn’t want to stifle the moment with an act of uncontrolled passion
that could derail the knowledge she was bringing him. “If I am obsessed with someone,
and spending most of my energy thinking about them and wondering what they are doing
and even trying to control them, then I will, in some ways,
become
them. That’s why my grandmother used to say to me, ‘Xenia, if you hate someone, that
means you want to be them.’ I never really understood what that meant until I got
older. If someone is standing around for years and years, talking about how they hate
such ’nd such, obsessing about it, then it always goes deeper than what is being shared…what
is being seen.”
“There’s more…”
“Yup, you bet. There’s always more. From where I come from, that sort of thing is
considered gathering intelligence so when they come after you, when they really get
ready to lay in to you, to strike and strike good, they have all the information they
need to make sure you are not only hurt, but never coming back again. Because, in
killing you, they kill the part of themselves that they hate, too… It could be,” she
said with a shrug, “that they hate what you have, detest the life you live. It could
be a hundred different things, but it all comes back to how you make them view themselves.
You become a threat, not because you did anything, but simply because you are a reflection.”
Saint nodded and took a deep breath. He rested his forehead against hers, then kissed
the bridge of her nose as she circled her arms around his waist as well.
“You are one of the wisest women, wisest people period, I’ve ever had the pleasure
of knowing.”
“Hmmm, thank you.” He closed his eyes, no longer able to see her face but he could
hear the smile in her response. “Glad I could help.”
“You did, you really did.” He straightened a little, leaned back from her, but kept
her in his embrace.
Cocking his head, he bent down for a kiss. Like with his first kiss, he felt butterflies
in his stomach, ramping up, taking flight. The woman did this to him, made him feel
gloriously flustered. He pushed his lips into hers with urgency, his passion now flooding,
bursting through the gates of his soul. He sucked her inside of him, stealing a bit
of her, never getting enough. “Mmmm…” he moaned as they continued to kiss. He let
his hands roam up and down her back, bunching the chocolate brown leather coat wrapped
around her beautiful body.
“Mmmm, baby,” he murmured again, then returned to their lip lock, his heart beating
faster and faster as he slid his tongue inside of her mouth. Then he reached to her
head, her crown, and ran his hands over and through it. The coarse texture turned
him on and the taste of honey and lemon on her tongue from the hard candy she’d eaten
earlier made him wish to never release her from the embrace.
Xenia kissed him back just as passionately, her feverish movements all-consuming.
With hungry fingers, she explored the nape of his neck as she pressed her body into
his, stirring him up all over. This went on until they both realized they needed to
be on their way.
Reluctantly, they parted. Saint took both of her wrists, and looked into her eyes
once again, feeling breathless, feeling like that experience had been essential to
get him through some rough times ahead. He etched it in his mind, feeding off it already,
as if he were starving for her love. Then they made their way towards the steps to
take the long journey back of out of Lady Liberty.
But to Saint, it wasn’t the statue that gave him independence, but his sweet, beautiful,
intriguing and intelligent Xenia. She was the one who’d set him free, and gave him
permission to truly be his God-given self…
*
Saint ran his
finger down the wooden maiden’s breast. Her delicate wrappings of protection were
brushed off to the side, a heap of plastic packaging joined with the dilapidated cardboard
landfill that had been dumped in the far corner of his new office. The scent of freshly
laid carpet and brand spanking new pungent ink cartridges assaulted his nasal passages
while Question’s, ‘Dream Catcher’ played gently in the backdrop of the office and
his brain. He swiped at his nostril and grimaced, the fumes giving him a slight headache.
After a few moments, he picked up the phone and dialed Jagger’s line.
“Hey, Mr. Daddy,” Saint teased, a crooked grin on his face as he looked down at his
reflection on his desk. “How’s everything going?”
“Fine over here. I didn’t think so much construction would take place… Dusty! Hey!
Hold on Saint…” Jagger said. “…Can you put that over on the first floor instead? It
goes in the lobby,” he explained to someone. “What’s up, Boss?”
“Not a damn thing ’cept you. That’s the best news I’ve had in a while. Is Traci going
to tell Xenia or should I?”
“She said she was going to wait until after the first doctor’s appointment. That’s
scheduled for next week.”
“Not to ruin this special moment, but…” Saint ran his palm against his desk, a twinge
of nervousness washing over him as he delved deeper into his thoughts. “Did she express
any concerns about the baby, Jagger?”
“Nah, not really. I mean, from what I understand, Xenia pretty much told her what
might happen and she loves Hassani, Dakarai and Isis… She sees that, for the most
part, they are just normal kids. I told her if our child is in fact…”—the man hesitated—“Hold
on…someone is walking past… What’s up, Jake? Great… So yeah, like I was saying. I
told her that if our child is in fact an Angel Child, our childhoods vary. Some of
us show our gifts earlier than others, etcetera, but it also depends on what those
gifts are and what happens after full development. I explained what multi-tiered means,
as well as strength levels. She didn’t say it, but I’m sure she’d be relieved if the
baby wasn’t born with these ‘gifts’. I can’t say I blame ’er. What mother would want
their baby to have a harder life? That’s basically what happens.”
Saint nodded in agreement. He couldn’t argue with the man. Suddenly, Lawrence came
through his door holding his son.
“Oh, wait, man, Lawrence is here with Tyler.”
“Okay, hit me back.”
“I will.” Saint disconnected the call.
“What is little man doing here?” He immediately stood to his feet, a grin on his face
and his arms outstretched to embrace the boy. He felt like Xenia…craving to hold a
little one even if it killed him. Looking rather amused, Lawrence handed his son over,
yet an uncomfortable vibe filled the room as soon as he took his seat.
“What’s wrong?” Saint asked as he looked at the little baby, smiling and cooing in
the tiny guy’s face.
“Nothing really wrong, just an observation. I wanted to tell you this earlier, but
I’ve been busy with my baby. Anyway…” He paused and looked at Saint, a distressed
expression on his face. “Your energy is shifting, Saint. It feels similar to when
we first met…when you were after Stanley.”
“Mmmm, I see.” Saint sucked his teeth, ready to hear the rest.
“You’re gearing up, every molecule in your body is cohesively working together to
survive a storm.”
“Koki?” Saint drew his brows together. Lawrence nodded and took a seat in front of
Saint’s desk.
“Give me a second to take in what you said,” Saint huffed and tightened his hold on
the baby. “My mind must be slipping.” Saint shook his head, unable to figure out why
a headache had begun to pulsate within his skull. “Why’d you bring the baby again?”
“I brought the baby in with me because Donna needed to take care of something. The
worst of the construction is already complete, so I didn’t feel he was at any risk,
and besides, my office is ready and that is where we stayed. Donna will be here in
a moment to pick him up. She needed to run some errands and I told her I could bring
him in for a few hours.”
Saint nodded in understanding.
“Figures… Things were going too well.” Lawrence shrugged.
“Do you know what he’s up to?”
“No, not really, and trust me, I’ve tried, but what I do know is that he is becoming
restless. He is a rather odd person.” Lawrence sighed. “He’s hard to read, and not
because he’s blocking. Strangely enough, he doesn’t seem to practice blocking. Demon
Children many times have the same gifts we do…yet, he isn’t utilizing that one.”
“I believe that may be due to exposure,” Saint explained. He itched for a cigar, but
nixed the idea because of Tyler. “They have to say who they are when we ask, just
like demons.”
“They only have to do that with Angel Children like
you
,” Lawrence corrected. “Not me.”
“Well, regardless, they are to never run from identification. It is an odd oath, especially
since everything else about them is a lie.”
Lawrence nodded and ran his hand awkwardly over his jacket sleeve.
“Let me run something past you real quick, Lawrence.”
“Shoot.”
“Remember when I asked you about Hassani’s eyes changing colors?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think mine started changing colors until I was like, seventeen or so. I know
you said some of us mature at different speeds, but…” He placed both palms on his
desk. “Is there anything else you can share with me about that?”
“It happens.” Lawrence shrugged. “What I can add is, it may not even be that he is
maturing faster. The other possibility is that during stressful times in a child’s
life, certain gifts can manifest sooner due to the body responding to the anxiety
within the person. With everything we discussed previously regarding Hassani, I can
tell you almost emphatically, it makes perfect sense.”
Saint sat back and mulled that notion over a bit, feeling more at peace with the situation.
“Saint.”
“Yeah?” He bent low and kissed Tyler’s forehead. When his lips landed upon the child’s
flesh, a burning sensation filled his brain as a vision unraveled.
“Ahhhhh!” He grimaced and before another moment could pass, Lawrence was on his feet
removing the boy from Saint’s grip.
“What’s wrong?! Did something happen?”
“Yeah…” Saint sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Wow! That was…wild!”
“What is it?” Lawrence returned to his seat, holding his son protectively close to
his chest.
“Jagger told you, right?” Saint’s brow rose.
“About Traci being pregnant?” He grinned. “Yes! Isn’t that great news?”
“It is…and I just had a vision you may want to know about.”
“What?” The man ran his hand over the boy’s loose, dark curls.
“Tyler is going to
marry
that child when she is of age… It’s a girl.”
The blood seemed to drain from Lawrence’s face.
“Are…you…serious?” He then broke out into laughter. Saint felt relief the man’s shock
was short lived.
“Completely. Your son and she are soulmates. See? There was more than one reason why
you and Jagger met. We can’t interfere, though. I shouldn’t have told you…” He was
having definite second thoughts now that the cat was out of the bag and meowing.
“I promise I won’t do anything about this. What will be will be. I’d advise you not
to tell Jagger though.”
“Why not?”
“Saint, If Tyler does something typical of almost any teenager or young man, like
go joy riding, Jagger will act as if my son is not fit for his daughter!” Lawrence
chuckled. “Just because he and I are best friends, it would no longer matter. He’d
throw all of that out the window. Can you imagine that man with a little girl? Well,
according to you, that’s what he’s having… It’s over, Saint. Oh my God. She won’t
be able to go
anywhere
without her father chasing everyone away!” He snickered.
Saint laughed and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, and I know that feeling already, even
though Isis is nowhere near being a teenager. Just the thought of someone hurting
her makes me want to grab this invisible person I haven’t yet met and ball them up
in my bare hands like a wad of old newspaper,” he snarled.
“Get a hold of yourself,” Lawrence joked.
Saint tapped the desk with his fingertips and looked off into the distance. The sounds
of the construction fell into a dull drone while his daydreams continued to unfold
and his gut churned with concern.
“Lawrence, look, you don’t even have to tell me how serious this is. I know this time,
I could die. I also know…” he paused and looked down at his desk, no longer seeing
the maiden, only swirls of glossy wood that reminded him of lava flowing down a valley
of hell. “I know it’s my duty, my calling. Should I not survive this, I ask that my
Creator do what I’ve begged him to do since the first time my life lay on the line.”