Alexander Death (The Paranormals, Book 3) (23 page)

“Put a bullet in his head and send him back to Toscano,” Alexander said. “That will be our message in reply.”

Jenny glared at the sobbing gunman. “That's too good for him. We can send a scarier message.”

“What are you thinking, Jenny?”

Jenny knelt beside the writhing man. She took her glove off again and pulled the blindfold down to his nose. When he saw her, he renewed his shouting and beseeching in Spanish.

“You killed my friend,” Jenny said.

The man wept. She doubted he could understand her, but she kept talking. He could understand her tone.

“I loved that girl,” Jenny said. “You shouldn't have done this to her.”

She reached a hand toward the man's face, and he stopped shouting and started blubbering, as if he thought she was granting him mercy. She wasn't.

Dark cysts popped up all over his face. Bloody abscesses opened at the corners of his eyes, nose and mouth. The infection traveled down his throat, out to his fingertips, his skin boiling and bursting open. The man cried out and struggled to inch away from her in the dirt, but Jenny moved with him, keeping her hand on him until he seized up and collapsed in the dirt, his face a corrupt, wet mass.

Jenny looked up. Manuel and his two gunmen gaped at her, and even Noonsa had stopped crying to stare in shock.

Alexander reached out a hand to Jenny, and she let him help her up. She'd been shaking with rage, but now the anger began to fade, replaced by sorrow for her lost her friend and the beginnings of guilt for killing yet another person. Even if he deserved it.

Alexander drew her against him. “You did the right thing,” he said.

Jenny looked at the contorted corpse of the man who'd killed Kisa. “I think I did.”

“Let's go inside,” Alexander said. “The men will clean this up.”

Manuel and the other two gunmen watched them leave and whispered to each other. One of the men bowed his head and crossed himself. Jenny understood. She was
la bruja
, the witch. And nothing she could do would ever change that.

Ashleigh beamed as she walked into Brazer's Los Angeles office, her briefcase case in one hand. He stood up, grinning like a fool, and Ashleigh closed the door behind her.

“Esmeralda,” he breathed. She went to him and kissed him for a long minute. When he sat down again, she sat in his lap, one arm around his shoulders, the other toying with his necktie. “I missed you,” Brazer.

“I missed you, too, baby,” Ashleigh said.

“What did you find?”

“It's a goldmine,” Ashleigh said. “There wasn't any stupid chemical leak. It was some kind of powerful disease. Even the CDC doctors couldn't figure out what happened.”

“It's still a little fuzzy to drag out in front of the public. You have to imagine the public as a huge, slobbery animal that only understands soundbites and buzzwords.”

“There are dead bodies,” Ashleigh said. “Hundreds of them. Show that to the media, and ask why the President covered up their deaths. Why Homeland Security gave a blatantly false cause for the event.”

“I don't know...”

Ashleigh kissed him again. “This is serious stuff, Eddie. Launch some hearings in the fall so they're in everybody’s minds for the election. You'll put the President on the defensive, his party will run away from him...”

“And we'll take over the Senate.” Eddie looked at her glazed eyes.

“Exactly.”

Eddie ran his finger across her lower lip, Ashleigh sucked his fingertip.

“Marry me, Esmeralda,” he said.

“You're already married.”

“But she's nothing like you. You're brilliant...” He kissed her. “Beautiful.” He kissed her again. “I can't stand being away from you, even for a night.”

“The wife and three little kids make a good picture,” Ashleigh said. “That's what voters want to see. A divorce could make the election messy.”

He slipped a hand under her starchy black skirt, up along her thigh. “Should we have lunch at the Four Seasons?”

“Of course.”

“I love you, Esmeralda,” he said in a low, tense voice.

“I know you do.”

***

“You're fucking him, aren't you?” Tommy asked. He sat on Esmeralda's bed in his underwear, drinking a pint of cheap whiskey and watching an
A-Team
rerun on the small TV. His eyes flicked over to Ashleigh as she stripped out of her professional wear.

“Who?” Ashleigh asked.

“Come on. The politician guy. Eddie for Senate.”

“First, I am not doing that.” Ashleigh took off her shoe and pointed her sharp high heel at Tommy. “Second, even if I were, it would be none of your business.”

“But you're my girl.”

“
Esmeralda
is your girl.” Ashleigh pulled on a linty polyester nightgown, possibly the least sexy thing Esmeralda owned. “I'm my own person.”

“But you're using her body,” Tommy said. “You can't go screwing around with other people. I bet she wouldn't be happy to hear about it.”

“Tommy, just relax. I'm not doing it anyway. I just wanted to point out that I have the right do it if I want.” She laid down on the bed and turned her back to him. “Good night.”

“Good night?” He turned her toward him and kissed her—he tasted like bad liquor, cigarette ashes, and six-day-old morning breath. His hand pawed at her breasts.

“Stop it!” Ashleigh pulled away from him.

“Just let Esmeralda out for a minute.”

“No. I'm tired.”

“Maybe she's not.”

“We need our sleep, Tommy.”

“Damn it. You know, I can't just go out and get laid. Most women don't like the fear. You know why I wear these gloves?” Tommy held up a hand. He wore black leather gloves, with the knuckles and the back of the hand cut out.

“Because you're a gay biker?” Ashleigh asked.

“Because I can't be normal around people if they touch me. They're afraid of me.”

“I thought you liked making people feel fear.”

“It can be useful. But I wish I could turn it off sometimes. Just be normal instead of making everyone feel fear.”

“So sorry for you.” Ashleigh closed her eyes and pulled the comforter over herself. She could feel Tommy's eyes glaring at her, but she stayed still and didn't say a word.

“Fine,” he said at last. He stood up, and she heard rustling as he got dressed. “I'm going down to Jack's Spot.”

“Of course you are. Drink the night away.”

“Hell, yeah. One of us needs to remember how to have fun.”

“Shooting pool in a dark hole with the lowest of the city's lowlifes,” Ashleigh said. “Sounds like a barrel of fun.”

“Lowlifes? You hang out with politicians. What exactly do you do for him, anyway?”

“Social media coordinator. I told you.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You know. I keep up his Twitter and Facebook accounts, his blog...”

“Sounds real tough.”

“At least I get paid,” Ashleigh said. “I don't have to rob meth heads just so I can afford to hang out in a sleazy bar.”

“Fuck you, Ashleigh.” Tommy slammed the bedroom door as he left.

“Not until you take a shower,” Ashleigh whispered. She turned off the bedside lamp and closed her eyes again.

Jenny and Alexander hiked along a narrow, steep trail through the jungle, heading up the side of a mountain. Jenny was soaked with sweat in the steaming afternoon heat. Alexander's two zombie jaguars were ahead of them on the trail, spooking off any man or beast who might bother them.

“Need a break?” Alexander asked. They'd been hiking for more than an hour up rough terrain.

“No,” Jenny said. Her legs and feet were aching. The pack on her back had felt light at first, but she could swear it grew heavier with every step. “Why? Are you tired or something?”

“I'm great.” Alexander sipped from his canteen and passed it to her.

“That's what you think of yourself?” Jenny put the canteen to her lips and tried not to slurp the whole thing down.

“It's what I think of you.”

Jenny rolled her eyes. “I'm great at killing people.”

“Some people need killing.”

“According to who? Who decides who lives and who dies?”

“You,” Alexander said.

“Why should I be the judge?”

“You are, whether you want to be or not. It's always your choice.”

“I'm really trying not to do that anymore, Alexander.”

“How does it make it you feel?”

“How do you think?” Jenny snapped. “Sick, guilty, hating myself...”

“And...?”

Jenny didn't answer.

“Part of it feels good, doesn't it?” Alexander said. “Expressing your power. Letting your inner goddess out.”

“Don't say that. It sounds like something from Oprah. 'Let out your inner goddess!'”

Alexander laughed.

They continued onward, Jenny trying not to think about Kisa. Jenny and Alexander had attended the funeral at the big stone Catholic church in
Zinacantan. Jenny missed her terribly, and tried not to cry about it until she was alone.

Noonsa had left, unable to work in the place where she'd seen her nephews and niece die. Alexander had hired a couple of middle-aged
mestizo
women to replace Noonsa and Kisa's housekeeping and cooking, and he'd brought a couple of other Mayan men who'd previously guarded coca patches to help provide security at the compound. Jenny tried to avoid speaking to the new people, or to anyone. She didn't feel like making new friends yet.

The trail widened and they reached their destination.

“
Here we are,” Alexander said. “The lost city of Paochilan. What's left of it, anyway.”

Jenny took in the crumbling stones walls, carved with reliefs and full-size animal statues. Everywhere she looked, the land was terraced, with wide stone steps choked with weeds. Entire trees grew up through the largest building, a towering pyramid like a mountain, with steps leading up to a narrow stone building at the top.

“
This is amazing,” Jenny said. “Doesn't anybody know about this place?”

“
Just one more Mayan ruin,” Alexander shrugged. He approached the pyramid. “Come on. We want to reach the top before sunset.” He stepped on the first of many steep, broken stone stairs. The jaguars sat down on either side of the staircase like guards.

“
Is it safe?” Jenny asked.

“
Is anything?” He climbed a few more steps. “There's only two hundred steps.”

“
Great.” Jenny placed a foot on the lowest step, and then she looked up. The staircase was so steep that it seemed like she'd be walking almost straight up. A number of the stairs were cracked and eroded, and they were all very shallow. She could barely fit her foot on one.

“
Scared?” Alexander asked.

“
No. If something breaks loose and I fall, I'll deserve it for listening to you.”

“
That's the spirit, Jenny.”

They ascended. Jenny was fascinated by the carvings set into the pyramid, lots of birds and jaguars. She could have stopped to study them every step of the way, but the sun was low in the sky and she didn't want to be looking for steps in the dark.

Panting, she finally reached the top, hundreds of feet above the ground. They faced a building with three empty doorways, Mayan hieroglyphs carved into their stone lintels.

“
This was the holiest place in the city,” Alexander said. “Only the highest priests allowed. They received messages from the gods here.”

“
Didn't they do human sacrifice?”

“
Some of that, too.”