Chapter 9 A task for the Enemy
Bri
I rushed into the flower shop just in time to collect the already-ready bouquets before she closed, that wasn’t a lie, Beckum could detect lies. I wondered, despite how little he was around, and how many half-truths he had detected, he hadn’t voiced anything, opting to keep quiet. How do you call someone out on a half-truth? I had gotten good at those. Maybe they felt like the truth to him, some days I almost believed myself.
My thoughts were a churning sea, blurring the time it took to walk there, I found myself at the tomb in no time. There on the bench before my father’s mausoleum sat Trent. “Soo,” I said, startling him as he was absorbed in thought, “What is it you want to talk about?” I asked.
Trent turned to me and relaxed a little, he even granted me a tight smile. “I must say this is a morbid place to talk," he retorted as I walked over to the flower holders removing the dead flowers and placing the new ones. “We couldn’t eat a sandwich at a shop or get some beignets?” He asked in an attempt to tease. I shook my head. “I don’t have that kind of freedom,” I said. Adjusting the flowers, I then kissed my fingertips before brushing them over the stone. It was my silent, hopefully, temporary goodbye.
I turned back to Trent, sitting beside him but leaving sufficient room between us. “What do you mean by that?" He asked. “I’m watched everywhere I go, this is one of the few places with no cameras and you hopefully came in through the other entrance as I asked so you don’t paint a target on your and hence Andy’s back,” I responded and he nodded that he did. “Draven’s office is just the beginning of how they monitor me. Every ATM, traffic light, and cell phone could potentially be hacked for them to know where and what I'm doing. It’s why I refused their gift of a car or to use the cell phone they gave me. Now, what did you want to talk about? I don’t have a lot of time.” I said, glancing at the watch on my wrist. I’d be dumping that too, just in case. All this developing tech had me a little paranoid.
“Can,” he started then stopped, looking down before pushing back his shoulder-length curls, meeting my gaze fully and beginning again. “Can I help you get away from this?” He said sincerely. I gave him a tight, probably sad-looking smile and shook my head. “You don’t want to be an accomplice if I happen to go missing, Andy already has a target on his back because he’s just as much an unwilling participant as I am,” I let him know. He shook his head. “How,” he started again. I stopped him with a shake of my head. “Careful Trent, Beckum can taste your lies. We should keep this simple. I get you may feel an ounce of chivalry now that you see this for what it is but I am more capable than I seem, for me it's all about timing. Do me a favor, if they ask, because I am sure they will question you both. Don’t lie, tell them you asked to talk and I refused your help. But I do have a message for them. If it comes to that, Tell them “I will seek my revenge.” I said, my shoes clicking on the concrete as I rose and walked to the tomb, fingers gently tracing his name.
“Mon père, je trouverai la bête qui est mon coeur et je serai ta revanche,” (I will find the beast that is my heart and I shall be your revenge),” I whispered to his spirit across the ties of this world willing it into the next one, something in me niggled like an answer. ‘Sera ton destin ma fille (so shall be your fate, my daughter).’ I felt those words in my bones.
Turning to Trent, who was considering my words carefully. “What about Andy? Will he be part of that revenge?” I cocked my head as if weighing my options, was he free of my wrath? “That’s yet to be decided. His actions, your actions will determine your fate with me. Protect what I cannot in my absence.” He looked at me questionably. “And what would that be?” he asked. I smiled a little fuller, looking out at the city beyond the cemetery. “Protect the good magic of the city from the bad,” I answered. “And how might I do that?” He questioned as he stood crossing his arms. “Just ensure the heart of the city isn’t taken out.”
“You know Trent, since you have such good taste in music I know a cozy little coffee shop you and Andy would love, good people.” His brow raised. I pressed a finger to my lips. I snatched up my bag and rummaged around for two punch cards for Maggie’s. “Here,” I said, handing them to him. “First rounds on me, don’t go till things cool down though. Ok?” I said as he took the cards from me.
He was still confused. “Keep the heart beating,” I said before I walked away. “A plus tard (see you later),” I said as I walked away from my father’s resting place and the loose trust hanging between us. “Goodbye Bri,” he said, his eyes turning to the mausoleum deep in thought. I hoped he was remembering my father’s mission. Uniting magic for the good of all.
When I got to Maggie’s Zoey was already there. One last hurrah, I served and danced and jived to the smooth strokes of the music. The thrall of the beat, honey and tea, coffee and cream, raw sugar cane all absorbed into my soul. My spirit, my power, caressed by the soft, even flowing energies hummed pleasantly beneath my skin. One last dance, one last sip, one last moment before I ripped myself away from it all.
I left the cafe, starting my usual route before I hit the garden district. I made a wrong turn down an alley and tapped on a side door that opened. Slinking in the journey to find the beast that was my heart began now.