Transitional Arrangements Page 5

  “He makes these delicious little noises when I fist him,” he said.

  For a second I didn’t realise what he’d said. “Oh please. Yuck—no, please tell me you didn’t just say that. I’m gonna puke.”

  “Nev, what’s up?” Jesi called out. He was checking his messages. Nothing, which was just wrong.

  “You truly don’t want to know,” I said, glaring at Parido and getting a fake innocent smile back. Yuck—some things were just not meant to be.

  Chapter 5 — Transitional Arrangements

  Our apartment was in an older, lively, not yet gentrified part of town, with a lot of first and second generation immigrants, people who’d been there for fifty years or more. Jesi and me had lived there for six years, but he’d grown up there, though he’d moved away when he joined the army. Even though his parents were dead and his sisters had moved out of the country, here was still what he thought of as home, and when he’d suggested we buy an apartment in the district, I’d agreed right away. I didn’t have a place I clung to, just a person, and if he was happier here, then that’s where I wanted to be. It was bittersweet, walking with him down familiar streets, past stores where we’d shopped together, seeing people I’d miss and who’d miss me. Yet another reminder that this death thing was really not all it was cracked up to be.

  My heart twisted a bit when I saw where Jesi was taking the prick for breakfast, even if it did make sense. Didn’t know what the regulars at Kula’s Café were going to say when he turned up with the trash, but at least Ajui had put a decent coat on (mine!) over his disgusting clothes, and was wearing a pair of sunglasses (mine again) partly in disguise, partly because he really did have a headache. He didn’t look normal, exactly, but he didn’t look like a dangerous drugged-out psychopath either. Not much, anyway.

  It was obvious from Kula’s startled reaction that Jesi hadn’t been in the place since I died. The big man swept him up into a warm, friendly hug. “Oh, Jesi, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t make the funeral....”

  Jesi smiled, though with an effort. “It’s okay, Kula, honest. Nev knows you’re thinking of him.”

  “Ya, I’m sure he’s watching from the heavens,” Kula said piously, putting his hands together and bowing. Parido snorted—but just because he was a godless heathen didn’t mean everyone was. I wasn’t big on temple neither, but Kula was genuine, and I thanked him in my mind for his kindness.

  “I’m sure he is,” Jesi said straight-faced. “Kula, this is Nev’s cousin, Tinu. He came down for the funeral, and he’s staying a few days. He’s hungry.”

  I saw Kula do a double take at the weird little bastard at Jesi’s side, then his natural kindness and manners took over. “Of course! Nevo’s family is to be honoured as Nevo himself. Come and sit—usual table okay for you, Jesi?”

  “Sure,” he said, letting Kula led him and Ajui over to our regular place, away from the window, giving us a clear exit and a good view of the entrance. Old habits died hard—and so did agents who got sloppy, like Ajui.

  For purely sentimental reasons, I kinda wished Jesi hadn’t agreed about the table, but anything else would draw suspicion, and that we couldn’t afford, not in a city apparently full of criminal telepaths. Parido had explained that it was normally too much trouble for them to scan millions of people to look for one rogue, but any strong emotions felt by a large number of people acted like a beacon—and once they got a fix on the prick, we’d be screwed.

  The one good thing was that Jesi’s shields were still solid, and Parido had reluctantly admitted that he was a natural at it. With a bit more training from Ajui, he should be able to resist scanning by even moderately strong telepaths, and avoid being brain-beaten by them. More than that, he could fly under the radar as long as he wanted, not showing up if they did a sweep. Ajui had been a fool, taking the drugs—they weakened his shields. So did alcohol. We had to hope that we’d moved him in time.

  Me and Parido watched as Kula handed Jesi and Ajui the menus. Ajui scanned his quickly, then shoved it back at Kula. “I’ll have items one to thirteen. Please,” he added as Jesi raised an eyebrow.

  “One to...but sir, those are whole meals.”

  “Yes, I know,” Ajui snapped. “I’m hungry.”

  Jesi handed his menu up. “Kula, just bring us a couple of specials, heavy on the toast and hash browns, please, “ he said, ignoring the glare he was getting from across the table. “A pot of coffee, and we might order more food once we’re done,” he said, looking significantly at his companion.

  “Of course—and I’ll add some more sausage. That’ll fill you up,” he said with a wide grin. Ajui’s atrocious manners were probably not the worst thing he’d ever seen, but I was annoyed that he would think the prick got it from any relative of mine. I didn’t have cousins. Or any family at all. And I liked it like that.

  A waiter rushed over with a breadbasket and coffee, returning with a generous jug of cream when Ajui bitched. Jesi just waited and watched while Ajui tore into a huge brioche bun, and gulped down a cup and a half of over-sweetened coffee that was half cream. “Where the fuck does he put it?” I wondered quietly.

  “Hollow legs,” Parido said briefly.

  Jesi poured them both some more coffee, then picked out a small white roll for himself, buttering it and breaking it up with his long fingers. “Better?” he asked, before popping a morsel into his mouth. I wished I could lick the little bit of butter that was left on his lips. I missed the taste of them.

  “Where’s the food?”

  “Give them a chance. Have another roll.”

  Ajui had eaten three by the time the big plates of food arrived, and spirit though I was with no actual stomach to speak of, my mouth watered as I saw the fluffy eggs, Kula’s own speciality sausages, and the golden, perfect hash browns. Ajui got stuck in as if all the bread he’d eaten had simply evaporated. Jesi ate more slowly, and less heartily. Ajui was finished long before he was half done, and when Jesi offered him the rest of his own plate, Ajui grabbed it and gobbled it as if he was still starving.

  “That’s not natural,” I said flatly. “Why’s he like that?”

  “Prison does that to you,” Parido said matter-of-factly. “When you’re small and easily bullied, you never get enough to eat. He’s been making it up even since. Also, his telepathy uses up huge amounts of energy, or he’d be the size of a house.”

  “Prison?”

  “Not now,” he said.

  Jesi sipped his coffee, apparently content to watch the display of gluttony in front of him. As soon as Ajui’s plate was empty, Kula was back at the table. “Would you like some more, sir? On the house, for Nevo’s cousin.”

  “Uh...some more eggs? And those....”

  “Hash browns,” Jesi murmured.

  “Yeah, them. And toast? With jam?”

  “Coming right up. I like to see a hearty eater,” Kula beamed. Personally I thought he’d go broke handing out freebies to pigs like Ajui, and I was offended that the prick was riding on my shirt tails to get one, but it wasn’t like I got a say in it. Anyway, if it shut him up for ten minutes, it was worth it.

  The second, generous serving arrived, and this time Ajui ate more slowly, as if his enormous appetite was coming close to being satisfied. Jesi clearly judged him to be in a more receptive mood. “Like the food?”

  “It’s okay,” Ajui mumbled, then he glanced over at us. For a second, there was raw shame in his eyes as he looked at his lover, then his expression hardened as he turned back to Jesi. “Okay for this kind of place,” he amended with a mean little smile.

  “Sorry it’s not up to your high standards. What was the food like in that hotel, did you say?”

  Ajui just sneered, and kept eating. But finally even he couldn’t stuff another morsel in, and when the waiter came back, he shook his head to the offer of more. He still gave the empty plates a longing look as they were taken away, and I wondered what it would feel like to be that insatiable, to feel like I was starving all the time. If it
wasn’t Ajui, I’d have felt sorry for the bastard.

  Jesi paid, accepted more condolences from Kula and his son, who came out from the kitchen to speak to Jesi. It upset him, I could tell. Even Ajui had enough sense not to give him shit as they walked to the grocery store. There, Jesi had to endure more sympathy, more explanations. It looked like he’d hardly emerged from the apartment except to go to work since I’d died, and people were desperate to know how he was. People who would have been very, very hurt if he’d killed himself. I hoped he was taking it in. I was dead, but he wasn’t. There was still something to hang on to.

  It had been a wise decision to let Ajui feed before taking him to a store full of food, though the trolley still ended up bulging with crap and some truly weird choices. Jesi just let Ajui pick what he wanted, tossing it all into the trolley with abandon—Jesi didn’t seem all that interested himself, which was odd because he always ate well, made sure he got a proper mix of proteins, fats and carbs to keep that fabulous body in peak condition. If he ate what Ajui was choosing, he’d probably die of a heart attack. I’d nag him later.

  He arranged for it all to be delivered, and then dragged Ajui to a clothing store, explaining to the assistant that “Nev’s cousin’s” suitcase had gone missing, so he needed a full replacement. This kind of shopping clearly was of little interest to Ajui, and I thought for a moment he was going to give Jesi trouble, but a few sharp words from Parido and he pulled his horns in, meekly following the assistant into the fitting rooms.

  “Hope he’s paying,” I sniped as soon as he disappeared. “Did you have to make him my cousin?”

  “Better than calling him a consolation screw,” Jesi murmured, keeping his voice down.

  “Indeed,” Parido said, “and I don’t advise you to try anything, Gonlimi.”

  “Trust me, the temptation is zero.”

  A woman’s voice, calling from a few metres away, suddenly interrupted him. “Jesi? Lord, it is you!”

  Shit!

  “Who’s that?” Parido asked as an all-too-familiar figure came up and claimed my lover, pulling him into a bosomy hug.

  “Our den mother,” I muttered, wondering how the hell we were going to get out of this. What was Lasi doing here? It was great to see her again, and I was glad someone was happy to see Jesi, but this was really not good.

  “Hello, Lasi,” Jesi said when he was allowed to come up for air. “Looking for a gift?”

  “Tedin’s birthday—Lord, I’m so relieved to see you up and around, boy. You looked so awful at the funeral. How are you doing? You eating right? You should come over like I said and eat.”

  “I will, Lasi. Just give me a week or so. I’m just...getting used to being alone.”

  “Alone? You don’t need to be alone. Dipnil said you’d resigned—what on earth did you do that for? You should go back and tell him you changed your mind. I know he’d let you.”

  “Maybe...look, Lasi....” Past him, I could see Ajui coming towards us, and there was no way Lasi would buy the “cousin” story since she knew perfectly well I was an orphan, and more than that, probably knew Ajui’s mug as well as we did. Lasi was nobody’s fool, and despite her motherly, comfortable appearance, she would be packing. Every ESF officer was, operational or not, off-duty or not. She would shoot the little prick, unless we stopped her, but how? Jesi wasn’t looking my way, so Ajui couldn’t see me jumping up and down, telling him to fuck off.

  Fortunately, either luck or his telepathy kicked in and he decided he had some urgent underwear to attend to or something. He scooted back to the changing rooms, tugging on the assistant’s arm. To look at Jesi, you’d never know there was a problem other than extracting himself from the kind, overprotective grasp of our sector’s head administrator.

  “I’m not leaving until I get a promise from you to come over for a meal, young man,” Lasi said, holding him at arm’s length and looking him over critically.

  “All right—how about next week, on the sixteenth?”

  “Perfect. Now if you tell me what tie Tedin would like, then I could die a happy woman...figure of speech, dear,” she hastily added.

  He gave her a forbearing smile, and helped her choose a lurid tie that Lasi’s flamboyant husband would love, and never once even hinted in any way that he wished she would get the hell out of the store so our dirty little secret could stop hiding. He escorted her to the door, kissed her cheek, and told her that he knew I’d be there at dinner with them in spirit, which was just damn mean of him because Lasi was a terrific cook.

  He walked back in the store with a strained expression. “Too damn close,” he murmured.

  “Yeah—get him out of here and now. We know too many people in this neighbourhood.”

  “It used to be something I liked about it,” he said, shrugging. Me too, but it was damn inconvenient right now.

  Ajui sidled out with an armful of clothes. “Girlfriend gone?” he said with a smirk.

  Jesi curled his lip in disgust and paid for the clothes without comment. He hailed a taxi for the short ride back to the apartment, collected the groceries, and headed up to our place. As soon as they were safe inside the apartment, he locked and dead bolted the door. “This could be a problem,” he said to no one in particular.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because I don’t look like your fucking cousin, being extremely thankful for small mercies that I am,” Ajui said. He was already going through the bags of food, and finding a packet of cookies, tore it open and stuffed two into his mouth. How did he have room?

  “And word will get around eventually. Kula won’t mention it, I hope, but if someone like Lasi saw him...or one of the team....” Jesi walked over to the kitchen and began to put the groceries away, looking distracted, nudging the prick out of his way.

  “Uh uh, no,” Ajui said, swallowing the last crumb and backing away from Jesi. “No way.”

  “No way what?” I asked.

  “The probability is that Gonlimi wants Tinu to go into disguise,” Parido said. “Tinu, I think he’s got a point.”

  “No!” he snapped, putting his hand protectively over his straggling blond hair. “Do you know how long it took me to grow this after the last time?”

  “Pretty or dead, Tinu.”

  “Not actually a choice,” I said. Ajui flipped me the bird. “Shave his head, let him grow some stubble, change his clothes—yeah, might work. Enough that if anyone passes you two, they won’t immediately recognise him. You probably....”

  “I’m not shaving my head!” the little prick screeched. “Keril, make them shut up!” He backed right away from the three of us, and had his hands held tight over his head. What was he, five?

  Jesi looked at me, perplexed. It was just some damn hair, and not very nice hair at that.

  “What about a wig?” Parido suggested, ignoring his cowering lover.

  “Yes, a wig would work, if it was a high quality one, but I don’t have one to hand. I don’t...uh...have access to the ESF stock,” Jesi said, his expression carefully revealing nothing.

  “That’ll teach you to resign in a hissy fit,” Ajui said. “Wig or nothing.”

  “Resign? When did you resign?” Parido demanded. “I thought you said you had your team to call on.”

  “His team hates his guts,” Ajui said, chortling. “Wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire, not that I blame them.”

  Jesi slammed the door on the fridge and walked out. That meant Ajui couldn’t see us any more—served him right. I followed my lover into our bedroom, and found him picking through his sock drawer. “Should have got some more black ones while we were in the store,” he muttered.

  “I think socks are the least of your worries,” Parido said snidely. “You said you were going to contact your team surreptitiously and get their back up.”

  “I don’t recall inviting you in here, Parido.”

  Jesi stood and glared at Parido until he shrugged and disappeared. Then he turned to me. “He’s right, Nev. We’re
screwed. The more I see of Ajui, the more I think that. Maybe Parido could keep him under control, but I don’t think I can for very long, and he’s too....”

  “Batshit?”

  “Yes.” He went over and sat on the bed, his head in his hands. “You ever see anything like that with the food?”

  “No. Parido says it comes from him being in prison, but I’ve known people who’ve been in prison who weren’t like that so I think the crazy goes to the bone.”

  “Agreed.” He looked up. “So my choices are, work with the madman, work on my own and kill the madman, let the madman kill me, or...call it off and hope something goes wrong with this scheme of the Exalted without us doing a thing.”

  I sat down beside him. “Parido says there’s over a ninety percent chance it’ll work.”

  “Means a ten percent chance it won’t, right?” He sighed and wiped his face. “I could have done without Lasi. I didn’t think it through too well, did I?”

  “Don’t beat yourself up, love—you needed to do a quick run, closest is fastest. It was just bad luck.”

  “The kind of luck I’ve been having a lot lately. We really need the team on this, but there’s no way I could convince them, and I don’t think they’d listen to me out of friendship.”

  I wished I could take his hand or something. “Just how pissed are they?”

  “With you getting killed? How pissed do you think?”

  “And none of them took any responsibility? Doesn’t sound like Luiz for a start.”

  He gave a weary little snort. “Oh, she blames herself too. There was no shortage of blame. Lasi’s been on leave for a few days so she missed the worst of the screaming.”

  “What did Dipnil say?”

  “He says there were mistakes, but nothing he would bring to a panel. He did try to talk me out of leaving.”

  Yeah, he would, because Dipnil was a decent, fair man. “You know what it would have done to him, the rest of them, if you’d offed yourself.”

  “Right then and there, love, I just didn’t give a flying monkey’s testicle. In some ways, I still don’t, which is bad of me, I know.”