Saint And Sinners (96 page)

“I can actually hear your heartbeat.”

“Mmmm hmmm.” Saint looked back at the pentagram. “I can hear yours, too. Hand me a
knife but sterilize it first, please.” The man didn’t hesitate. He pounded up the
stairs and in a flash, returned with a kitchen knife, hot to the touch from a lit
flame and hot water. Saint took it and sliced into his own finger, then, went around
the pentagram, letting his blood mingle and mix with the monstrosity.

“Do you hear that?!” Cruz yelled out, covering his ears as if a pack of wild wolves
were bellowing in his direction.

“No…” Saint answered as he continued to move about the pentagram, defiling it. “But
only Demon Children can hear what you’re talking about, Cruz. The Angel Child part
of you cannot stop you from listening to the sighs and groans from Hell… I’m almost
finished.”

Cruz nodded, no doubt wanting Saint to hurry the hell up. He’d broken out in a cold
sweat while Saint continued his deliberations, methodically dripping his blood all
over the damn thing, but little did the man know—it was for more than one purpose.
As he finished, Cruz’s face relaxed a bit.

“My blood will absorb the other blood, and only the paint will be left. At that point,
you can use a household cleanser and remove the rest of it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do…”

“First, I want to thank you for the information you provided. Due to the distress
that this Zoo person has caused my Queen, myself, and potentially others, I will ensure
that what you stated is done. Secondly, I’m going to give you what I promised you.”

“And what’s that?”

Suddenly Saint was upon him, clipping him around his neck and dragging him across
the basement.

“What are you doing?!” Cruz screamed, clawing at Saint’s hands, fighting for his life.

“Don’t contest me, come on!” Saint loosened his grip on him once he got him closer
to the basin. “Strike a fire.” Cruz did as instructed. He bent low, ran his finger
along the bottom of his shoe and held the flame above his head. “You said you didn’t
have a soul; I’m telling you that you do. Now, I’m going to make sure it is awakened.”

And without another second, he slammed the man against the wall, opened his mouth
and blew out the flame on the man’s finger. Soon Saint’s eyes glowed and burned bright
red as the smoke filled the area.

“Look into my eyes! Do not turn away, no matter how horrible it gets, do you understand
me?!”

“Yes!”

Saint pressed his hand against Cruz’s heart, bunching the cotton fabric of his hoodie.
After he had his attention and was locked in to the man’s subconscious, he loosened
his grip and made his way to the man’s gut. Like a movie playing on an old reel, the
man’s life flashed before him. Images of his father, his mother, their marriage, his
strange conception, his birth and his first steps played one after the other in rapid
succession, like a motion picture. Cruz’s eyes filled with wonder as he became paralyzed
in the moment. The flame returned to his finger, this time bright blue, illuminating
the whole scene, flickering just so.

“Watch it. Watch all of it. Your soul is stored right…here!”

“Ahhhhh!” the man wailed as Saint pushed into his stomach and twisted his fist against
Cruz’s flesh. “You feel that? That’s for a tear that you’ve never cried! An emotion
you’ve never felt and a heart that has never been broken.”

And sure enough, one silken tear cascaded out of Cruz’s eye. Not since the day he
was born had he ever shed one tear. “That’s your soul, Cruz. It was buried, hidden
away. It makes people feel, care, give a damn. It is your telephone line to your Creator,
it is what drives you. It gives birth to passion. It lets you know right from wrong…it’s
the key to unlocking the rest of you…the ‘you’ that you never knew existed. It will
take time for you to get accustomed to it, but wait and see…”

Saint slowly closed his eyes and released the man. He heard him slump to the floor,
hitting it like a stone. Then, he re-opened his eyes and stared down at Cruz, who
was now gripping his stomach and shaking as if he’d been thrown out in frigid temperatures.

“Thank you, Cruz for inviting me. I’d love to stay and chat a bit longer, but I have
to get going. Tonight may be a bit rough for you. I will have someone check on you.
In the interim, I need for you to stay in this basement. Do not leave for any reason
until I tell you to. Once you get your wits about you, I want you to sit in the middle
of the pentagram and remain there until further notice.” Saint began to walk backwards
towards the exit.

When he turned his back to head back up the steps, he heard Cruz call out, “Thank
you…and don’t…don’t forget…twenty-one seconds…the head…”

*

Saint took another
deep breath and reached for Xenia’s hand as she remained turned away from him, staring
out the window into the night. He made the woman hold his hand, and though the silence
was killing him, he kept quiet until his cell phone rang. He reached in his pocket
and removed it.

“Yup.”

“I spotted him. He just entered the restaurant, just as Cruz said he would.”

“Jagger, is Koki with him?”

“No, thankfully not. Let’s make this fast in case he decides to show up.”

“Got it.” He hung up and immediately called Lawrence.

“Lawrence, I’m on 88
^th
and 10
^th
Street, down the street from Morimoto.”

“Good. I’m going to my post.”

“Got it.”

Saint popped a piece of gum in his mouth, trying to steady his nerves. It wasn’t for
his part in this, but for the sake of Xenia.

“Babe, it’s time to roll out. You ready?” His massaged the steering wheel with one
hand and clutched her fingers a bit harder.

“Yes,” she replied, her tone hard, as she ran her fingers over her jacket, where the
.38 Special rested below the dark brown leather surface. Xenia slid her hand away
from his, reached for the car door latch and opened it. Immediately, a blast of cool
air hit them both, swirling around them as if giving a wintry kiss. Saint got out
of the car and raced to her side, opening the door wider for her exit. She stepped
out, her white and black Nike gym shoes sliding against a small dusting of snow. He
reached for her arm, but she unfastened herself from his control and looked directly
up the street towards the place.

“Alright, I will walk half way up with you… I have to leave after that because—”

“I know…you all explained it. He may smell you if all of you are in there together.”

Saint nodded as they walked side by side. Her footsteps were soft, her expression
tight and her eyes vacant as he stole peeks at her from the corner of his eye. The
wind blew his hair around; thick strands of blackness at times partially cloaking
his view, making her appear like a puzzle piece without a match. He wanted her repaired…wanted
her whole again. The jaunt stopped way too soon and he no longer gave a damn. Before
she could escape him, he grabbed her around her waist, pressed her to him, then crushed
his lips into hers, stifling her protests. He finally pulled away, looked into her
eyes as the wind whipped her ponytail around.

“I know I make you sick right now, but I needed to kiss you anyway.”

She nodded in understanding, then made her way up the rest of the sidewalk. Saint
glanced at his watch. It was exactly 10:56 P.M. The restaurant closed at twelve. He
looked back up the street and saw her enter the establishment. The long, red velvety,
jester-hat-rimmed type awning above the doorway swayed lightly in the wind. Immediately,
his phone buzzed. He gripped it and read the text from Jagger:

She’s in. I’m on it.

Saint nodded, realizing the man stood somewhere near him as the wind shifted in a
rather strange way—this he knew despite the crowded streets. It was Friday night;
too many people had been freshly paid, bursting with exuberance to spend that hard
earned cash on food, drinks and a good time. The waiting became even more excruciating.
He wanted to rush inside the place, pull the guy from his seat and beat the living
shit out of him, but that could destroy everything. Besides, he could use this unfortunate
circumstance to his advantage. It was time to turn lemons into honey lemonade…

“I love you, baby…” he whispered as he leaned against a nearby bar, covering his mouth
when a thick, lilac haze escaped from between his clenched teeth. “So sorry you have
to do this, but don’t worry… I will take care of it baby, I will never let you be
alone…”

*

“There’s that sneaky
fucker,” Xenia whispered aloud as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. She briefly
turned away from him, trying to avoid him spotting her just yet. Her black jogging
pants and matching top were loose, allowing her to feel the hot sweat pouring from
almost every pore of her damn body. She ran her hand against her pocket once more,
patting it, ensuring the damn gun was still there, time and time again. Saint had
assured her she’d be safe, and there would be no witnesses. That was rather hard to
believe at the moment though. The place was bustling with noisy people, wall to wall;
so much so, it appeared the staff didn’t even notice she’d entered. Platters of food,
mostly sushi dishes, were carried to and fro to hungry patrons as they drank their
cares away.

She turned and faced the man once again; this time, she caught Lawrence’s profile.
Her husband’s right hand man loomed about with a disturbing smile on his face. Ironically,
his calm presence immediately made her sigh in relief. She turned in all directions;
trying desperately to meet the golden eyes of the one she’d given her heart to.

Where the hell is Saint? I thought he’d be in here by now.

Just that quick, her peace of mind got compromised as she watched Zoo get situated
with a large plate of something that appeared raw and definitely didn’t have a chance
in hell of surviving the onslaught he had in store. Her cell phone vibrated against
her thigh. She gripped the thing, almost dropping it as her nerves wound around one
another like tangled snakes. Clutching the thing, she answered, gulping nothing but
air. No words left her mouth. She had never felt her heart beat so fast and a dull
pain spread across her chest. She swallowed hard.

“Let him eat. After he pays his tab, I want you to do as we discussed. Do you understand?”
Lawrence asked.

“Yes.” She disconnected the call.

The chatter of the patrons, outbursts of laughter and forks clanking against plates
became the music to her tumultuous soundtrack.

I can’t believe I’m doing this.

She sank her teeth into her lower lip, going crazy as she glared at the exit from
time to time. She grabbed her phone and called Saint.

“Hey…” His voice ran over her eardrum like the gentle flick of a warm patois, yet
it was refined and customarily silver-tongued, and she missed how it would light her
fire.

But still, her reason for packing the .38 Special was more than about sex; it was
about a union, about saving many by sacrificing one…

Saint remained quiet and calm, almost sedated in his tone. “How are you feeling, baby?”

“…Like I want to go home.” Her voice quavered, and her knees bucked just a bit.

“Just a little while longer, baby. I’ve thought of a way to help you, but…let’s not
get into that just yet. Just take care of what you need to do and I promise to be
there before the clock strikes twelve.” And with that, the call ended.

She stood in the crowd. A hostess brushed gently against her and asked if she’d been
helped. Taken aback that she was even noticed in the lively place, she nodded. “Yes,
I’m just waiting for a friend.”