James threw on a big hoodie sweatshirt and grabbed a small canvas duffel bag. It occurred to me that they were all by the front door, like he was ready to bolt anytime.
“I never said I was going to live with you,” James finally spoke from behind me as we walked down the stairs.
I didn’t bother turning around because nothing he said was going to change my mind. Nothing or no one was going to stop me from finding Ethel’s future killer. James grabbed my wrist, turned me around, and slammed me against the door leading outside.
His body was so much taller and wider than mine, the only view I had was his enormous sweatshirt. I would have had to stretch my neck to see around him. His smell was unique. There was definitely soap, but mixed in there was an earthly undertone. It was familiar, but I couldn’t place where I smelt it before. Granted, my thoughts were mixed up with him standing so close. I looked up at him as he was leaning his head down closer to me. I was surrounding by his green eyes.
“I will go anywhere with you, if you release me from your torture chains.”
He leaned a little closer; I could almost feel his lips touch mine. I smiled and lifted onto my toes. I missed his mouth and pressed a kiss onto his cheek. I lifted on my toes a little more until my mouth was against his ear. “Does a frog have hair?”
I reached behind me and turned the doorknob. I watched as his head tilted to the side, thinking about my question and what that had to do with him.
Giving up, he answered, “No.”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed when I pushed opened the door and walked outside to the cold air. “That’s your answer.”
“WHERE’S YOUR FRIEND?” James had already made himself at home. He was stretched out on the hotel couch with his feet propped on the small living room table and petting Ethel who had jumped in his lamp. Ethel gave the correct purrs, but she watched me and smiled. If James looked down to her instead of glaring at me, he would see the smile. “You said if I could identify the killer, then you would let me go.”
I pulled one of the kitchenette chairs next to the couch and sat down. “No, I said if you identify the killer, I would teach you how to control your visions.”
His eyes tightened into a deadly glare. “When I find her killer, you will let me go.”
I had a feeling what his reaction was about to be, so I smiled instead, continuing on with that conversation. “Ethel, you might as well as show yourself.”
She just looked at me from his lap and purred. “Ethel, we talked about this. He needs to read you.”
She rubbed her head against his stomach. “But, why? His hands are magic. Did you see the size of them? You know what they say about a man’s hands...”
“Fuck!” James jumped up, knocking Ethel onto the floor.
“That was rude.” She jumped onto the kitchen table and stretched out.
James tried to run for the door but stopped short when Death Flames shocked him. “What the fuck are you guys?”
“We don’t really know what she is. A mixture of lots of stuff...”
“...Shut up, Ethel.” I interrupted her.
James pointed to Ethel, but spoke to me. “That’s your best friend?”
I nodded. “Can you do a reading on her?”
James stared at Ethel long and hard. His eyes slightly changed, but not like with the officer back at the apartment. He shook his head, like he was trying to get death out of his mind. “It is not clear. Her mind is all over the place. That good enough? Can I go?”
“Arun is in town.”
I ignored James as Ethel told me my ex was in New York. That demon, Ethel’s brother, followed us everywhere we went.
“Why?”
Ethel rolled onto her back, stretching out. “He said he has something to tell us. Something that can only be said face to face. He wants you to meet him at Breakers.”
“Wait, the Breakers? Violet, Honey, you wouldn’t fit in there,” James said.
I turned away from Ethel to James. “You called me Honey again.”
I grabbed my wallet and handed James one of my credit cards along with the delivery service pamphlets the hotel offers. “Buy some appropriate clothes for Breakers and get some food if you are hungry.”
James grabbed my card but didn’t move for the hotel pamphlets. “I am a con. Why do you trust me with your money?”
I didn’t answer his question, instead I instructed Death Flames to extend so I could go into my room without shocking James. The walls were thin and I could hear everything Ethel was saying to James. “She’s got a good heart. She doesn’t care about money. Let’s get you some clothes and you better hurry. Otherwise, she will pick something out for you, and I have a feeling it will involve rhinestones and a blue jean jacket.”
“She wouldn’t,” I heard James ask along with rustling of paper. He must be looking at clothes now.
“Oh, she would.”
Speaking of rhinestones, I grabbed my custom-made belt buckle with ‘Violet’ spelt across the top, cowboy boots and hat. I had always heard New York was fun at night. If we didn’t find Ethel’s killer tonight, at the very least, I could enjoy the nightlife.
Chapter Five
James
I stood only inches away from my captor, watching her make stupid flirty faces at the bartender and grateful that at least we left her feline friend back at the hotel. Breakers wasn’t exactly a pet-friendly sort of establishment. It was hard to make sense of Violet being here either. I could see the money, but she also had that quirky way of making everything look tacky, cheap even. People did not wear rhinestones to Breakers. They didn’t dress like Barney the dinosaur either. Fuck.
It wasn’t the first time I’d been here. The last was seven years ago when Sylvia Brocton had dragged me here to celebrate our three-week anniversary. That chick, with her big tits and way of walking with her back arched so severely she looked like a circus performer, was a trip. We never made it to our one-month anniversary. Sure, she was fun for the someday rocking chair memories, but Christ. The woman had just about killed me.
Watching Violet order two shots of bottom shelf vodka had me in stitches. Sylvia would have told me a girl like Violet didn’t belong in here. She wouldn’t have been wrong. Only, Violet clearly wasn’t an ordinary girl. I’d seen a lot – even guys trading favors for pencils – but never had I met a woman with a half-human, half-cat friend. If I hadn’t watched her open a pack of deep-red contact lenses myself, I’d be convinced she was half feline too.
Violet leaned over the bar, pulling her lips into an ‘O’ shape. I, of course, with the Death Flames, went with her as the bartender gave me the side eye and my captor remained oblivious to it all. I coughed, hoping to get her attention as tiny shocks jolted my wrist. If I could get her to spin her around, maybe I could finally see her death. If she kept this shit up, it might not be so hard to picture it.
Finally, balancing the shots in each hand, she tilted her head to the side to point in the direction we were apparently walking next. I followed her, like Slash Vincent’s best bitch and one of my former cellmates to a tall table in the far corner of the club. There, and without speaking, she handed me a shot, lifted her own, and smiled at me before tossing it back like she was swallowing pills. I wished I was.