Brooklyn, New York.
November, ?09.

They were sitting around a table, eating and laughing. Their suits were custom tailored, their jewelry, expensive. Their look, Italian. I walked through the door and was stopped by two men, one with his hand at his side, the other, his hand on my shoulder.

?This is a private party, Pal.? I heard him say, but my eyes were on the man with his back to me. ?Time for you to go.?

I remember shaking my head, and the flash of a gun. I spun around as I grabbed the man?s hand that was on my shoulder, and watched his eyes as the bullets ripped into his back. I twisted his arm, keeping him as a shield while the other man kept firing. I saw the pistol, Glock .40, and when I heard the magazine drop, I dropped my shield and grabbed the shooter by the head, twisting until I heard the pop. The two men fell to the floor almost simultaneously, and I was walking toward the table of men.

?Mister Slate, nice of you to join us.? The man with his back to me spoke, and the others just stared at me with wild, wide eyes full of fear. ?This is a private party, however.?

?She had nothing to do with this, Freznek. NOTHING!? I shouted. I pulled a picture from my jacket pocket, showing the other men her beautiful, smiling face. ?This is my fiance, she?s dead now, because of your business partner and his sons.? There were some murmurs then, as they talked amongst themselves, watching Freznek.

?Mister Slate, what an ugly thing to say. I believe that you had just gotten out of Rikers, and that you are still a suspect in that nice girl?s grisly death.? He picked up his cloth napkin from his lap, and dabbed at his mouth, before finally looking at me. ?The police are on their way, Mister Slate.?

?Why?d you do it, Freznek??

?They should be here in minutes,? he looked at his Rolex for effect, and it had none on me.

?Did you also call an ambulance?? I asked as I pulled the box from my pocket, and placed it on the table.

?What?s this?? Freznek asked, eyeing the burgundy velvet.

?Where are your sons hiding?? I asked.

Freznek could stand it no longer and opened the box and dropped it to the table, as he recoiled, causing the bright blue eye to roll from the box and into the man to his right?s lap. That man lost the dinner he?d recently eaten.

?What have you done?? he hissed, and stood up quick enough to knock his chair over.

?Surely you?ve heard, an eye for an eye?? I said. ?You took mine, I am taking yours.? From the other pocket I pulled a delicate finger, still wearing a gold and diamond ring, engraved with Daddy?s Little Angel. He stared at me, and could not find his voice. ?Your wife, and your daughter first. Be proud, they died quick. Your sons, well...? I smiled a cruel smile, ?they won?t have that privilege.?

?You are dead, Slate!? Freznek screamed at me, as I turned my back, and walked from the restaurant. ?There is no place you will be able to hide. You hear me? No where!?


Queens, New York.
November, ?09.

The house was dark but I knew that he was inside. He had gotten drunk at an Irish Pub, and I?d hired a whore to take him somewhere out of the way, even to his own house, and like a charm, the woman worked her magic on the drunk lug, and they left together in his waiting car.

I walked to the door, and used what I had come to call my Knock spell, as a joke and rip-off of an old table top game, and it was among my most useful, reliable spells. The place was decorated nicely, dark wood floors and trim, art from the chic galleries, and even some of the awards the family had gotten over the years, supporting the arts, Special Olympics, Charities, and anything else they could think of to keep themselves in the positive light, over illegal activities. I knew Tommy only displayed his awards for the extra action it got when he brought a woman home.

Tommy Freznek was, bluntly, a douche. He had been married three times, and all of them had ended in a nasty divorce. He had eight kids, and if they hadn?t already had a life of hell, they would die just like their old man.

When you have the skill of weaving magic, and tapping into the energies that are around us every day, there?s not much that can stop you from achieving your goal. The tumblers in a lock worked as if the key was there, and then another quick twist, you can move around in silence. No squeaky floorboards, no out of place item to send crashing to the floor. If the room was dark enough, you could even blend into the shadow, to remain unseen.
My magic skill was minimal, but getting stronger, I knew some guys could disappear totally, only appearing at the last moment, when it was too late for who they?d come for. Some of the best assassins were those guys, unfortunately, I didn?t have that skill.

I could hear Tommy and the woman talking, and it sounded like she was getting ready to leave, much to his disapproval.

?C?mon, it?s late and I can make us somethin? to eat when we wake up.? He said in a tone that was nearly whined.

?I can?t stay, Tommy. I have to get home to my daughter.? I could hear the hiss of nylon sliding up her leg, and the sound of his hand moving across the bed toward her.

?I can pay!? He sounded excited and the drawer on the bedside table was pulled open.

?It isn?t the money, Tommy. I just have to go.?

?You bitch!? Tommy?s mood just turned one eighty. ?I let you into my home, and give you this, and this is how you treat me?? I heard his feet hit the floor, and move toward the door, where I was. ?You are leaving with something to remember me by.? Footfalls moved away from the door.

?Tommy, stop!? I heard the panic in her voice, and that?s when I leaned back and kicked the door, just to the side of the knob. It flew inward in a shower of splinters and broken framework, causing Tommy to turn toward me, straight razor in hand.

?Slate,? he said, recognizing me with a cruel grin.

?Get out of here,? I told the girl, who only nodded and ran past me with tear streaked cheeks, and the rest of her clothes in hand.

?I?ll be with you in a moment, sweetheart.? Tommy called to her, but his eyes never left me. ?You were supposed to be dead by now, Slate.? He moved toward me with that razor held loosely, ready to strike at any moment.

?Sorry to disappoint you, Tommy.?

?Oh, I?m not disappointed,? he smiled. ?I just think it?s funny I get to use the same blade I slashed that chick?s throat with. Bummer for her, wrong place, wrong time.?

His words were just making the fuse burn faster, I heard everything he said, and I knew now which one slit her throat, meaning that Mikey was the one that beat her. The blade flashed and I felt the white-hot sting of a slash across my stomach.

?Come on, Slate, I heard you were faster than this.? Tommy was a sociopath, and this was all a game to him. I suppose in some ways I am one too, but I could think about this later, when I wasn?t dealing with a game of this caliber.

He swung again, and I sidestepped his reach, grabbing his wrist with my left to throw him off balance, and bring my right fist down into his neck, with a little added juice to send him sprawling to the floor of his bedroom. Tommy stood, smiling at me as he pulled his front tooth, and looked at it before dropping it to the floor. ?That?s what I am talking about!? He lunged at me, and caught me at the waist.

We went back into the mirrored wall, splintering glass, and causing it to spiderweb across the length. I brought my knee up into his chest at the same time I brought my elbow down into his kidney. Then another stab of pain as that razor cut across my thigh, I knew that I had to take that blade away from him. I pushed him with a little extra help, and he stood there, a few paces from me, looking at the blue fire, licking up my arms from my fists. I hated to let go of the control, but it was making my point as I fed from the juice that surrounded his place. Residual effects from the women he?d scared, beaten, and killed, all of it was energy to tap into.

?What the hell are you...doing?? He started backing away, to his dresser.

?Revenge, Tommy. Give your soul to God, Your ass is mine.? I stepped closer, the power was flowing through me, the women?s pain pushing into my chest, allowing me to feel nearly everything he had done to them.

?Well, it?s denied,? he said, as he pulled a pistol from the drawer and fired it, but dropped it when he saw the flame leap from me to envelope and incinerate the lead. He kept a grip on the razor and leapt at me again, but I opened my palm, and caught him in mid air, holding him there and watching him.

?This is for Kaitlyn Webb,? I said as I twisted my fingers, causing his leg to break, and the big man to scream out in pain. ?You broke her leg, and kept her a prisoner here for how long, Tommy?? I asked, not really expecting an answer.

?How?d you know about her?? He asked between sobs, and cries of pain.

Another twist of my fingers, and his left hand twisted into unnatural bends and curves. ?Christy Larsen. She was crawling away from you, and you smashed her hand with the heel of your Italian loafer,? He cried out again, begging me to stop. ?Tracey LeFuer, how many ribs did you break, Tommy?? He screamed as one by one his ribs began to pop with sickening crunches.

?Stop, God! Please Stop!? He was crying, and I was enjoying it. ?Turn me in, I will confess!?

?Not tonight.? I said, as I made his hand holding the blade go to his throat. ?This is for my Angela, Tommy. You remember her, don?t you??

?Slate, please...?

?Did she ask you to stop? You and your f*cking brother?? My own anger caused the flame to darken, and I stepped toward him, pulling his head up with his hair to face me, and look me in the eyes. ?She was my fiance, and I?m going to find out who was trying to kill me, after I get revenge for her.? The blade started to press into his throat.

?Slate, wait, I?ll tell you everything.? He had gone from cocky and in control to a slobbering mass of wasted space. ?Hungarian, man...it was him. He wants you out of the picture, he never thought you?d be out of Riker?s. He sent his best at you, and you sent them out.?

The blade stopped a moment, still pressed into the flesh, but I was watching his eyes. He wasn?t lying.

?Tommy, in most cases the truth shall set you free...but that?s not tonight.? I watched as he started to protest but couldn?t as the blade slid deep into his throat, cutting vocal cords, and jugular arteries.

His voice never came, but his wide, dying eyes said everything he was feeling. I let his body drop to the floor to bleed out, and left his bedroom, with him reaching for me with one hand, while the other tried in vain to stop the flow of blood.

?Goodbye, Tommy.?

RhyDin,
February, '11


The shower made me think about my life in RhyDin, versus what I had in New York. In New York, the apartment itself was 2850 Square Feet of space. The bedroom was a loft that overlooked the living room, and the bathroom was huge, with a glass enclosed shower. The place was made for someone my size, living alone, with the occasional company staying over or annoying Spirit that wanted to sing some off-key 60?s hit. The place I was in now, My shoulder was against the wall of the shower, the shower head was spraying about mid chest, and I had one leg in the tile floor of the bathroom. It was cheap, and I really didn?t plan on staying.

The bedroom was almost as narrow as the shower. I had a full size bed, a milk crate bedside table, and I could reach clothes from the closet by sitting at the foot of the bed. Basically the place was a dump, but clean. Go figure. I kept a stash of things in two locked foot lockers, that were warded naturally, and then even the door itself got a little of my magic. I didn?t want to come to my ?home? to find out someone here was trying to make a name for themselves, or some punk junkie was just trying to steal my stuff for his next high.

As luck would have it I wound up back at the Dragon, and while working on my second beer, she walked in from the back dressed to go out and have fun. Like people back home, she stopped at a smaller bar for primers before moving to the bigger clubs. She looked good, and joined me without my offer, and lit up when I pulled the bottle of Single Barrel Jack from my coat pocket for her. It was working into a night that she would learn more about me, leaving her to make her choice.

I was waiting in the house when Mikey came home. I let myself in, and tinkered with a can of gas, the hot water heater, and a few other thing to prepare to bring his place down around him.

I made myself at home, knowing that he would be out for a few hours. I ate his food, drank his beer, even used his bathroom, while I read Playboy for the articles. I heard the door go up on the garage, and by the sound of the doors, as well as the laughter, I knew he wasn?t alone.

?So I said Boner? I don?t even know her!? He was finishing something that he must have found as hysterical as the man and woman with him because they all fell into a raucous laughter.

They entered through the kitchen entrance that opened into the garage of expensive toys, and I had the chair turned to face that door. Mikey flipped the light switch, and was confused when nothing happened.

?Must be a fuse,? he said to them. ?Wait here, I?ll go check it.?

?Stay there, Mikey,? I said quietly and watched him freeze. The man with him started to put his hand into his jacket and I fired my pistol, twice. One to the head, one to the heart. The woman with them screamed, sprayed in blood, bone, and bits of brain.

?Jesus Christ!? Mikey ducked away from the falling man, then turned to stare at me. ?You are the one that took out Tommy,? he said. ?My mother and sister too.?

?Step Mother, and half sister,? I corrected.

?F*ck you, Man!? He spat in my direction, the whole time the woman was screaming, only know her voice was cracked, and straining.

?Shut her up, Mikey... or I will.? I knew who she was when I saw her. Mikey?s wife, and mother to their future children.

?Okay! Okay,? he said, shoving her into the garage, and pulling the door closed, after stepping over their friend. ?What can I do? Don?t hurt her, please.?

?Really? Don?t hurt her?? I asked from the shadowed chair, my grip tightening on the pistol. ?Did Ang beg you to stop? Before you broke her jaw and cheek? Did you ever give me the option, tell me what I could do??

He looked at me with recognition then. ?Slate,? he said my name quietly. ?It wasn?t supposed to go down that way,? he tried to explain, and I didn?t want to hear it.

?Let me guess, just supposed to rough her up, send me a message??

?Yes, that?s exactly right. I was sick, strung out...I?m getting help.?

?Not anymore.? I leveled that gun, I wasn?t going to get close enough to the one I knew was a brawler, after the other nearly sliced me to pieces.

?Come on, Slate, be reasonable,? He sounded panicked.

?Reasonable. That isn?t a word I know anymore.? I fired one shot into his chest, hollow point mushroomed, breaking bones and ripping muscle and dropping him in pain. He fell back and his arm went out, revealing the shiny, polished brass knuckles he was waiting to use on me. I reached down, and pulled them from his hand easily, while he watched me with dying eyes. ?I?ll see you in Hell, Mikey.? And found myself smiling as his last gesture was to give me the finger.

I turned on my heel, and started from the kitchen to the front door, only to hear the woman screaming again, in shock and in anger. ?You don?t know what you?ve done. You are a deadman, you hear me?? She screamed at my back. ?No matter where you go, they will find you!? The front door closed behind me, and as I walked away, I snapped my fingers causing the flame from the water heater to blow out toward the spilled gas and alcohol. Causing a fire to spread rapidly toward the cars, and the house.

?No, they won?t,? I said, as the house exploded into a fireball of orange, red and black, followed by explosions of gas tanks. ?I?m sorry, Ang.? I said, walking further into the night.

I turned to see who she was talking about, and there was a guy that came in the same way that she and Quinn usually entered through. He was decent enough looking, but a lot smaller than I am. Of course, when I stop and think about it, there aren?t many that are my size.

He seemed to be set on doing nothing more than exasperating Mack, and I really didn?t care for that. Apparently they had gone out a while, then he left her for another girl, as far as I know, he was trying to either set up franchises, or spread the clap, either way from a guy that type wouldn?t surprise me.

She turned her attention back to me, smiling. ?The Ex,? she said, to which I only nodded. I never really understood those kind of exes. The ones that love you, until something else comes along, they think is a bigger, better deal, but when that goes South, they think you?ll be more than eager to come back to their sorry sh!t. It?s happened to me, and apparently to Mack, more than once.

He seemed set on muttering to himself, and drinking alone. Which was fine with me, but whatever it was he was saying, seemed to get to her, and her plans for the night were changing.

?Should I go over there and talk to him?? I offered, and hoped that she said yes.

?No Eddie, he?s not worth it, he?s got a little extra in his blood too.? She said that, and my curiosity grew. I couldn?t really read much of anything off of him, other than waves of asshole way too hung up on himself. What a winner.

?I wouldn?t mind, you know?? I smiled at her.

It was then that he said something else, and she glared at him, said a few words, and looked at me. ?You want to get out of here?? I thought she?d never ask.

?What about your plans tonight?? I asked.

?You need a nurse, remember?? We started toward the door, Her hand in one, the bat in the other.

?Mack, you should come back, you and your friend. It?s still a little cold for baseball though, but we can work something out,? he was still popping off, and the grip tightened on the bat, as I pictured his head flying over the Green Monster at Fenway Park as I swung for the fences. ?Nice to meet you, Big Guy.?

?I didn?t meet you, Jackass.? She felt the tension in my arm, and pulled with all she had, knowing I was ready to go back.

The night air was cold, and it brought back a shock with a clean, cool breath. I was about to lose my mind over someone that didn?t matter, and my number one rule was never pick a fight with someone I don?t know. If you don?t know what you are up against you can wind up dead, easily and quickly.

?He?s a jerk, Eddie,? She said after we were a ways from the Tavern. ?Type that tells you what you want to hear, and then you find out that you aren?t the only one he?s telling things too.?

I nodded my head, listening to her. She really had no placeable accent that I could discern. The height and build were like Ang, and that?s where everything stopped. She was a totally different woman, and for that, I was thankful.

She didn?t say more after that, we walked along in relative silence to my place, and up the steps to my little dive that was honestly, just a step above living homeless.

The window didn?t seal right, and there was a little bit of snow that had blown in, and frozen as the tiny heater tried to warm more of the place than just my bed. The walls were insulated and sometimes patched with old newspaper. The only things of value in my place, were two locked footlockers, and what few clothes I had.

She walked in, looking around, and I could tell she was thinking the same thing I thought when I saw it. I wasn?t going to get a room at that Tavern, I heard the place upstairs smelled like sex and crazy.

?It isn?t much, and I plan on getting out of here, soon.? I said, locking and warding the door. ?Just don?t know a lot of places around here yet.? I was making excuses and she smiled at me, like she didn?t care.

I shrugged out of my hoodie, and she walked slowly toward me, looking at the bandages. ?Does it hurt?? They were stained a ruddy brown with blood that had flown into them from the wounds.

?A little but they are closed up, tomorrow should be a little more than pink, fading scars.?

?Bullsh!t,? she said, then watched as I pulled the bandage away, showing her the wound, that was closed and looked like it had been healing for a month.

?How do you...? she reached out and touched it slightly, not believing.

?Twist of magic, healing stuff really. It?s not the best, but depending on the wounds, and where I am, sometimes it takes longer, sometimes not.? I wasn?t really going to try to explain to her the way my power came and went, how different emotions and feelings made it work faster, or darker. The power that came from her, the way she looked at me, I knew tonight was going to make the wounds fade nicely.

It had been three days since she walked out the door. Single word farewell, and not a word since. I?d say I missed her, but really, I didn?t know a damned thing about her, and I hadn?t missed anyone in a very long time.

I walked the streets, more or less avoiding the tavern, and even got into a few fights for money, or necessity, but this night found me wandering into a different bar, one that felt like home, and I realized then that maybe I did miss New York. The club was dark as I walked in, but as soon as I walked past the wall, the lights, mirrors, and dancers were neatly lit up.

The place smelled of smoke, booze, cheap perfume, and the promise of sex. Men and women were at the tables around the stages, or there were lone men, in darkened corners with their dream girl grinding against their lap. If I were to get into a fight in a place like that, I knew my power would be dark, full of lust and greed, fueled by dreams of wants, affected very little by needs. The kind of power that would be intoxicating, dangerous, and addictive.

?Ladies and Gentlemen, put your hands together for a jewel. All the way from Austin, Texas, a true cowgirl, in every sense of the word, if you know what I mean fellas. Put them together for Ruby!? The Deejay was speaking too close to the mic, so the words were garbled but understandable, then every light went out, except for one, on the center stage.

She walked out as the music started, a slow, smokey song, and an old favorite, ?Turn the Page.? She had long red hair, down to her waist, and impossibly long legs that were formed nicely through years of dancing, and shaped nicely thanks to the red, stiletto heels she strutted the stage in.

Her dress was short, like Greyhound short. For those that don?t know what a Greyhound Skirt is, it?s one that is an inch from the hair. A white, button down shirt that was many sizes too small unbuttoned below her large breasts that were stuffed into a red lace, push-up. She wore squared glasses that enhanced her cheekbones and squared jaw, in a word, she was a knockout.

?On a long and lonesome highway, east of Omaha. You can listen to the engine moanin? out it one note song.? She swayed to Seger, working the buttons on her jacket first, she walked the stage, stopping to gather tips from the hands already flying upward. ?You can think about the woman, or the girl you knew the night before. But your thoughts will soon be wandering, the way they always do. When you?re ridin? sixteen hours and their?s nothin? much to do.? The jacket hit the stage, at the same time she swung around the brass pole, working the buttons of the shirt with her free hand. ?And you don?t feel much like ridin? you just wish the trip was through.? Our eyes met as she dropped the shirt near where I stood, a five in my hand as a tip. The girls some of the girls, do this for the money, but there was something more to ?Ruby.?

She finished her set, and those that were gathered gave a thunderous applause. She bent to pick up her discarded clothing, covering herself with her shirt, she looked at me again and smiled. I watched her disappear through the curtain into the back, and lifted my beer with a shake of my head.

Comparing her to Mack was not my intention but I found myself doing it anyway. Their differences and their lack of similarities. Mack was lean, toned from a life of being a scrapper. One that fought to get to where she was, and Ruby was lean, toned from life of a dancer. She wasn?t one that needed the fight, she was classically trained in dance, if I read her right, she did this for the thrill.



(Lyrics, Turn The Page, Bob Seger.)

Hell?s Kitchen,
New York, April ?09


?Welcome Home, Slate!? The banner was stretched over the double door of the kitchen at Anotelli?s Italian Restaurant.

Everyone was there, welcoming me back from my tour of Riker?s. They made fun of new scars, and even new ink I had added while inside.

?You know what they do in there to get ink?? I was asked.

?Blow the guards,? was the response I gave for the shock value, and dropped jaws that I got in Spades.

Kaine walked in the door, late for the party but he had passed message to me that he had a surprise for me, and as he walked in, he held the door, which allowed her to step in, and look rapidly around the room of gangers, thugs, taggers and enforcers. Kaine pointed my direction with the cigar he was about to put to his lips, and she smiled. It was the most beautiful smile I?d seen in a long, long time.

She rushed toward me, her arms held out, and leapt the last few feet at me. She knew I would catch her. She knew I wouldn?t let her go.

?Eddie!? She said, before her arms came to rest around my neck, and I was about to tell her how glad I was to see her, but she cut that off with a deep kiss.

A dime was gone.

But she remained.

The letters never stopped.

There was no one else for her.

?God I missed you, so much.? I said, holding her close to me.

?I know,? was all she had to say.

The rest of the party was laughter and smiles shared with friends and co-workers. I was second in command, and they treated me as such. The good natured ribbing, the jokes, all in good fun, even with the woman at my side, they didn?t let up, they just included her, like she was one of us.

Truth be told, she was nothing like us. She worked in a high priced law firm that dealt with Kaine?s brushes with the law, or one of Kaine?s guys. She was above everyone in this room, and they knew it. Ang was the one that got us out of trouble, but above that, she was my lady, and that meant she was safe, no matter what, as well as off limits. I kept her hand, the entire night. Through dinner, through drinks, and even the drive home in what she assured me was my new Range Rover.

The only thing that changed for her while I was locked up, was she moved to a better ZIP Code, and doubled her floor space. We pulled into an underground parking garage, and she slid from the black ?Rover to hand me the keys. 
?Welcome home present,? She said and stood on her toes to kiss me softly. ?I?m glad you are out. You don?t know how hard I tried to shorten the time.?

?Stop,? I said as I wrapped my arm around her, and walked toward the elevator. ?You did what you could, and you took time to send the letters.?

?The letters?? she sighed. ?They didn?t keep attempts from your life, Eddie!? She was upset, thinking about my time.

?Ang, stop...please,? I said, as we rode to the Ninth floor, and stepped out. ?I was fine.?

?They tried to kill you, Edward.? She used my name when she was trying to be serious and make a point.

?They didn?t, did they?? I asked her, as I stepped out and looked to her for directions to her new place. She pointed to the left, then folded her arms to stare at me, the same way she always did when she was trying to be angry.

?That?s not the point, Eddie.? She pouted.

I walked the hall beside her, until she stopped at her door, and slid the key into the lock. ?Ang, can we not talk about that? I missed you, and I?m back with you.? I said.

She looked at me as she started to pull her coat off. ?Really?? she asked.

?Really what??

?You missed me?? Her eyes were shining. Wet with unshed tears of happiness, while she watched me.

?More than you know, Ang.?

?Show me,? She said, pulling the front of my shirt, so I?d bend to her level, intent on the kiss that I placed to her lips.

The owner of the liquor store was owned by a couple of Korean immigrants I'd known for years. The store was empty as usual, and I made some small talk, trying to understand what I could from their guttural English.

"Mister Slate, you look drunk now, shouldn't be buying more," he said as he rang up the bottle of Jack. "Trouble with Miss Angela?" He asked, the Liquor Store Shrink.

"No, I just feel like a drink or several," I lied. Truth was, I was in pain and wanted to cause enough pain to myself that I no longer felt anything.

"She gone?" His wife asked, she knew it but waited for me to lie to her too.

"Yes, God damn it, she's gone! I pissed it away, like most of my life!" I threw money on the counter and grabbed the bottle from his hand. "I'll be back for the change." I twisted the cap on the way out the door. Let the self destruction begin.

I've never been a big drinker, and stacking Tennessee Sippin' Whiskey on top of Red Wine, wasn't the brightest move of my night.

People passed, looking down the alley in disgust at me as I emptied my dinner and the booze. One hand against the cold, wet wall for balance, the other on the knee of my pressed, soaked slacks.

"Never seen anyone who made a bad choice before," I asked, while spitting remnants of dinner and bile. They looked even more disgusted as they walked quickly away.

I decided that I just didn't care, and stuck to alleys and empty roads as I finished the trek home. I wanted a mugging. I wanted pain. Maybe I wanted the anger release of beating some poor guy to death while I let my thoughts go back to the pain that welled inside me. I cut through the park, and that put me in the line for Crown Heights, If I was going to do something, I was going to do it right.

It wasn't long before I was where I shouldn't be, and I was told that by four locals. African american men, that didn't welcome strangers, especially drunk ones that looked like easy targets. To make matters worse, I invited them to the attack. I made a show of a fat wallet, nice watch, and gold necklace.

I didn't even feel the first swing of the bat, but I felt the rest of what they intended. The kicks, from white Adidas or Puma shoes, rapid fire to my side and if they could get close enough, my head. I heard the click of the switchblade that cut the back of my leg, in an attempt to get my wallet. The slide of the action on the semi automatic pistol, and his words. "Any last words, before I kill you sucker?" seemed disjointed and far away. My world was black and red, and I wasn't even trying to fight back. The pain was making me forget, even for a brief time, and I wanted that desperately.

"How about, F*ck you, N..." I didn't get the word out, before another kick caught me in the temple, sending my world into complete darkness. I didn't know if I was alive or dead, and I really didn't care.

Rhydin,
March ?11.

?I can?t see you anymore,? she said without looking at me. In fact, she hadn?t made eye contact since she walked into my place.

?Oh?? I was curious, to say the least, and I wondered if it was something I?d done, or hadn?t done.

?Yeah,? was her reply. One word, that wasn?t helpful at all. I could feel my jaw tightening, and my teeth began to grind.

?And why is that?? I watched her, make effort not to watch me. She was trying to remain expressionless, but I could feel the indecision coming off of her in waves. The thing about being what I am, meant I was more attuned to emotion than most would know.

?I told you, I?m not on very good terms with Karma, and I?m trying to fix that. There are some things...things that I have to do that prevent me from being with you, Slate. I have to do something in order to make things right.? She never met my eyes, it was like it was something she was being made to say, instead of something she wanted to say.

?Right,? I said, shaking my head. ?You are full of sh!t. I think there?s something you have to do, but I think there?s something you are too scared to tell me as well.? She finally looked at me, frowning, and something flashed in her murky green eyes.

?Excuse me?? Her face flashed anger. The kind of anger that was more of a self protection from a fight or flight mode. ?Look, I don?t owe you an explanation, but here I am, trying to be nice and let you know what?s going on,? She sighed, watching me. ?This is hard for me to do, okay? I like you, universe be damned, remember? But I can?t help that this needs to happen.?

I listened to her explain about her ?in? and about how she had to be with some other guy, to make it legit. Universe be damned used to mean more than one damn night, at least that?s what I thought. I offered my help, and she once again told me no.

?Nothing ventured, nothing gained,? I reached for my jacket, readying to walk out of her home, and life.

?Slate, wait,? her voice had a panicked tone. ?Please.?

?What, Sarah? You just tell me you can?t see me, and now you want me to sit here?? I stopped, watching her, waiting for her to say anything, and nothing came. ?This isn?t a time for clamming up, Sarah.? I could tell she was working something out in her mind, and wanting to tell me, but holding back.


I was about to turn around and walk again before she spoke.

?I used to be a blood doll, I?m trying to rescue girls from the same fate, Slate. He?s part of it.? I didn?t know what the hell a Blood Doll was.
?A what??

?Vampires, Slate. They use the girls as meals but don?t fully drain them...? I listened to her tell me things about them that made me hate them even more.

?So you are going to go play hero, which I can understand, but you have to run me off in the process? Why couldn?t you tell me this sh!t last night?? My tone was cold, and uncaring at that point.

?I didn?t know, Eddie. He saw us mentioned in the Gangstar, because he was here this afternoon, asking about it, and wanting me back,? she admitted. ?I text you as soon as he left.? I sighed, thinking about the girls, and then about her. One hand slid over the stubble of my shaved head, and I watched her again.

?So, how can I help them?? It was a bonehead move, maybe even the King of Bonehead Moves, but I knew she couldn?t and shouldn?t do it alone. Suckheads were nasty, vile creatures, and I didn?t like the idea of her getting ripped apart. She looked relieved as I hadn?t walked out of her house yet.

?Do you know anything about vampires??

?I know they can die, Mack.? I said with a smile.

?Not easily,? She said, watching me for the first time.

?Mix what I have, a can of gas and a .500 pistol, I can make them cry,? Bravado was always one of my best traits I thought.

Kaiolohia Hoapili.

Hawaiian, Japanese beauty, and easy to talk to. Her right arm was covered in the same designs that ran my arm. Samoan, Hawaiian design that told more than most people would learn by talking to the person wearing the ink.

The Sun, meant to bring good fortune.

The Eyes, or o mata e lua, represent ancestors watching over the path we take.

The Tortoise Shell, to deflect evil spirits.

The descending swirls, represent past, present and future, with the future growing even bigger. The pattern continued under my arm, It changes in the place where it is thought to be gone.

That was a few of the marks we shared, there were other things I had, and others she had. Both of us, life stories and guardians on our arms. Reminders of our heritage and dreams.

?You surf?? I asked, as she had told me. ?Why would you do that?? I wasn?t scared of the water, I was scared of what was IN the water. She smiled and nodded, watching me and I could tell there was something she was wanting to ask, but not quite yet.

?You don?t understand, Slate,? she said after a swallow of her beer. ?Sitting on the water as the sun comes up, waiting on the right wave it is...? She paused, not finishing her thought.

?What about sharks?? I asked, and she laughed. ? I heard that if you are out in the water, and there?s a shark you jam your thumb in his eye.? She just stared at me in disbelief.

?You just have to bop them in the nose, they go away,? she looked and sounded dead serious, and I wondered if she had ever done that. ?You should try it sometime, Slate.?

?Eddie,? I told her my name, and was rewarded with another bright smile. I suddenly found myself thinking about Mack.

To compare them was like comparing night and day. Short, green eyed blonde, tough as nails on the outside. Usually carrying more than a clutch, a gun of some kind hidden, or sometimes obvious, hanging on her shapely hip. She was something to be reckoned with, and I had to wonder if she knew how I was starting to feel. Then enter Kai, Tall, Dark Haired and dark eyed, like a female version of me, minus the life I?ve lead, and the scars I carried. She was soft spoken, and easy with a smile. The graceful movements, I would find out later were from years of dancing, ballet and traditional Samoan.

I was about to ask more about her, when I saw Mack wander in through the door. First nights of first impressions. At first she hadn?t noticed me, but then she saw me there with Kai. At first her face was unreadable, but then the more she watched, without looking like she was doing so, the more it seemed to bother her. I gave a nod her way, and Kai turned to look.

?She a friend of yours?? She asked after she turned back to the bar.

?Yeah,? I answered. ?I?ve helped her out with a few things.? I wasn?t going to even try to explain what it was that Mack and I were. Hell I didn?t even know what it was, other than confusing. ?We worked together.?

?Oh,? she replied. What else could you say to something like that? Even I wouldn?t have believed me, so I couldn?t blame her for it if she chose not to.

?So, you want to get out of here?? I finally asked, and was glad when she nodded, finishing her beer.

?Lets go,? She said with a smile and offered her hand to me. I looked at it, then a glance at Mack before I took the offered hand and walked out of the Inn.

I paced my small apartment, wondering what in the hell I?d been doing. She was seeing some brat, living off of his Dad?s name, running a club and business. I knew the guy was an abusive prick, I saw the marks, and I?m not stupid. My situation though? That made me feel stupid.

?Keep up appearances,? She had said.

I knew by that, more than likely every night I hadn?t seen her she was with him, doing whatever it was they do. I slammed my fist into the small table, breaking one leg off in the process and causing some of my things to crash to the floor as the slid from a rapidly falling table. I stalked to the bathroom, and turned the water on to wash my face, and found myself staring into the mirror.

?Slate, you are a fvcking fool.? I snarled at my reflection. ?This is what you get when you try to offer to help someone. You get fvcked, on the side rarely, and are kept like a pit bull on a short chain. 'I hate him, but you can?t hurt him, yet.? The next thing I knew my fist slammed into the mirror, splintering and shattering it. ? You are an asshoIe.? I cursed at my shattered reflection, then watched as the blood from my knuckles ran down the glass of the mirror.

I got my jacket, after wrapping a bit of a cloth around my hand. I knew the blood would stop flowing soon enough, and the scar on my knuckle would be faded before I got more than a couple of miles from my hellhole. My thoughts then turned to Kai, and I smiled slightly, for the first time in several days.

The night we had spent down on the beach, even though it was cold and crappy weather was nice. The day we met up and had lunch, between her classes of kids, was never rushed. She never wanted anything in return, never asked for my help, or had anything going on with someone else. She was more interested in finding out about me and not what I could do for her.

I walked the streets of the West End in the cold night air. Clearing my head, and trying to focus my mind. It was the closest thing that I?d found here to the mean streets of Hell?s Kitchen, and it reminded me of home. I was looking for a fight, and hoped I could find it here. Pent up energies, and my mood were making my blood feel as dark as a moonless night, and half as inviting. What I didn?t realize, was that one of her friend?s friends was following me. Not a vampire, or I would have picked up on it, long before the shots rang out, and the bullets ripped into my back. Now I knew what Wild Bill felt like, only I wasn?t holding Aces and Eights.

I fell to my knees first, then to my chest in the middle of the street. My urge for a fight was suddenly lost. Maybe that was due to the fact I could feel blood running down my sides from the holes in my back. I let my eyes close and worked the magic that I could muster to stop most of the bleeding, but I didn?t have enough juice to push the lead out. I grit my teeth and pushed back to my feet.

I had one option.

I just hoped that she wasn?t squeamish. It was about to become a really long night.