Tortured Dreams

Chapter Thirty

Chapter 30

With the rush of traffic now steadily flowing through the city streets, I yawned. Lucas and Xavier took the cue. Lucas smiled at me.

"I'll go back to the museum today and see what else I can discover through my powers of perception," he said.

"Go get 'em Holmes," I joked with him.

"I'll go to make them feel comfortable. They met me two days ago," Xavier said.

"I will go find out who makes Hanging Coffins," Michael got up.

"Tired?" Alejandro asked.

"Yes," I told him as the others shuffled out of the room.

Alejandro stayed behind. He studied me for a few moments, without saying a word. He lit another cigarette.

"What is it that you don't like about me exactly?" I finally asked, ignoring the fact that he was smoking in my non-smoking room.

"I haven't put my finger on it yet, there is something that bothers me about you."

"I have that effect on people from time to time." I didn't add they were normally alpha males and serial killers.

"If I was my father or grandfather, I'd say it was because death seems to follow you around. Luckily for you, I'm not them."

"Meaning you don't think a spiritual cleansing would help much because you don't believe in them."

"Are you implying you do?"

"I have done many things in my pursuit of knowledge and understanding. I've been to see priests about exorcisms and shamans about cleansing my spirit, I even saw a voodoo priestess to lift my death curse."

"And what did all of them tell you?"

"The priest told me I wasn't possessed. The shamans told me that my soul was clean. The only helpful one was the voodoo priestess. She did some prayers and some rituals and told me death would stop following me. Two days later, someone slaughtered a pig on my front steps. So it seems that she was wrong, but at least she tried."

"Why did someone slaughter a pig on your front doorstep?"

"That is a question for the ages. I don't know why I attract the violent types, but I do, always have. The poor pig was slaughtered to get revenge for breaking someone's heart. Odd, considering they probably wouldn't have lived if they had continued to date me. It was only a couple of months before I met Gerard Hawkins. Had I still been with the pig butcher, Gerard Hawkins would have followed us both; probably killed him or I would have been killed because I would have been distracted by the addition of another being in my lair."

"You choose to live in solitude instead?"

"No, I have Nyleena and Malachi when I get lonely. My mother is always just a phone call away. I choose to live this life because it is safer. There are things that aren't in the files. Things that probably should be, but never made it that far. Things like the pig. Things like the last time I visited this city, I came here for an opening at The Field. Nyleena met up with me. We went to a play. We stayed in this very hotel even. The play was at the Schubert Theatre, 'Spamalot' to be precise. The play was amazing. The hotel was nice. The exhibit at the museum as grisly and gruesome as expected. What we didn't expect though, we went shopping, some way from here. We took a car instead of the El because of the neighborhood. There is a leather shop there that does amazing work. It was late in the day and as we were leaving the shop, someone approached us, demanded Nyleena's keys. I stared him down. He pulled a knife. I stayed still until Nyleena went to hand him her keys. When she did, I stopped her, told her it wasn't going to happen, not today. I turned back to the man and told him the same thing. I don't know what he saw there or didn't see, whichever the case maybe, but he didn't take the car. As a matter of fact, he dropped the knife and ran from us. From me. Something about me convinced him that his life wasn't worth Nyleena's car. We considered reporting it, but since I don't exactly have a spotless track record, we didn't. Instead, we continued on with our day. We went to dinner at a pizza joint where they served deep dish pizza upside down. Nyleena had a glass of wine. I had a soda. We talked, laughed and for some reason, it was like it never happened. That night, as we were going to sleep, Nyleena told me she was never afraid when she was with me. That there was something about me that made her feel safe and secure even in the worst neighborhoods. I told her that night that I was a sociopath. She gave a small laugh, said that explained so much, rolled over and went to sleep.

"So, yes, Alejandro, I can believe that you can't name whatever it is that you don't like about me. It could be the cold demeanor I always seem to have or the lack of emotion or the lack of fear. I don't know any of it better than you do. You aren't the first and you won't be the last to tell me that. As a matter of fact, I hear it a lot from men. With very few exceptions, that is what has ended most of my dates. There is just something about me that makes them uncomfortable. They don't know why, they think I'm a wonderful person, with intelligence and a good personality, if a little hard to get to know, but for some reason, I don't make them feel comfortable.

"The only males that do feel comfortable around me are as screwed up as I am. Men like Malachi Blake, a true psychopath who may or may not always be on the side of the law. Lucas McMichaels is comfortable in his own skin or mind. Xavier Reece is only happy when death is around. You and Michael will either come around or you won't. It depends on what is wrong with you. Lucas and Xavier took to me quickly because we are kindred spirits of a sort. I don't know what fractures your mind has, so I don't know if you will be more like Lucas and Xavier or more like the serial killers who are fascinated by me. Only you can make that decision."

"Your perception of the situation is admirable and astonishing. When Lucas came to me with the idea of hiring a historian, I thought he was kidding; now I can see why he thinks you would be an asset."

"History was written by the person with the best publisher. It requires perception and attention to detail. However, I admit, that those skills are probably why I became a historian and not the other way around. Perception and attention to detail are what have kept me alive, coupled with a strong survival instinct. I don't imagine our relationship will get better with time. You're an alpha male with a chip on his shoulder. I'm a girl with survival skills that would rival any predator. I think that will cause constant conflict. Can you work with that?"

"I agree with your analysis of the situation. I can work with that, if you can, Cain, but that is a question for you to answer. Can you have a superior alpha male with a chip on his shoulder and a diagnosis similar to your friend Malachi's with just a few more problems?"

"I don't know. Either we will get along and learn or we will kill each other."

"At least we both admit it. Get some rest, you look like shit." Alejandro walked from my room. Cigarette still burning between his fingers.