Page 52 of Gates of Tartarus

I open my mouth to try to explain, but while I’m still looking for the words, Jonah answers in my place. “It’s not you, Walker. It’s cultural. Hair is sacred to most indigenous people. There are only certain times you can cut it... it carries part of our spirit. To touch or braid someone’s hair... you have to have good intentions and good energy because it’s connected to our mind, body, and spirit. Three strands, you see? Braiding or combing someone’s hair is a bond of family... it’s part of what strengthens family ties. You have to have the right comb; you have to have the right thoughts as you’re combing someone’s hair because it weaves into their braid as intention. There’s so much to it, Walker. It’s not about you. It’s just…”

“But you’re fine with him doing it?” Walker asks, honest curiosity lacing his voice, edged with something else.

I stare down at the table, feeling very exposed, and fumble for the right words. Having Jonah do my hair feels natural, and I can feel the thought and energy he’s weaving into it, each plait locked with protection and joy. I don’t feel comfortable letting Walker do the same – I don’t have confidence in his thoughts and how they will press into me, but I don’t know how to say that without hurting him more, and all of a sudden I don’twantto be a cause of hurt to him.

Walker watches me through careful eyes, then a thought passes over his face, and he flicks his eyes to the door before looking back at me. “Has Tanaka braided your hair?” he asks, and, mutely, I shake my head. Some foreign understanding settles on his face, and he nods once, then moves back towards the head of the table. As he walks past the door, Deo comes back in, face and energy placid once more, no coffee in his hand. Walker pauses in front of him, then reaches out a hand and claps it briefly on Deo’s shoulder, a sort of brotherly moment of comfort, if I had to call it anything, and Deo sighs once, fairly deeply, before returning to sit by me, ignoring Jonah completely.

Maddox, who has been silently watching the proceedings, glances at his watch and says, “Ten minutes, team.”

Jonah continues fixing my hair carefully, tight and clean, no loose hair or bumps, and I smile as he hums under his breath, relaxing back into him. He pauses and gives a gentle tug to my braid and suddenly I’m thrown so violently back into a memory I’m almost sick. The feel of my mother’s hands combing out my hair, long even at five, is so strong I can almost smell her, sweet plumeria dancing in front of me, her beautiful voice humming a song about lilikoi and the trade winds. I wiggle in my memory, wanting to be done with the braiding, and she pulls playfully on the finished plait, telling me to sit still with the gentle motion.

Pressing my eyes shut, I frantically chase the memory, a forgotten moment of lost love so painful my stomach clenches, and it’s only the pressure of Deo’s hands on mine that pulls me out of the vortex of feeling.

“Kai,” he says, voice so sad you can almostseethe sorrow. “Oh Kai. Come on back now.”

I hear a strange, keening sound and meet Hideo’s worried eyes as I realize the sharp, painful cry is coming from my throat. Jerking my hands back from Deo, I clasp one tightly over my mouth and one around my throat, trying to strangle my airway and lock the sound in. I’m horrified, beyond horrified, to have lost myself like that. Eyes wide, almost frantic, I meet Deo’s grounding gaze. He locks his eyes on mine and leans forward, breathing with me until I calm down slightly.

“It’s okay, Kai,” he says, voice almost crooning, as though speaking to a scared child. “It’s okay now.”

We breathe together for a minute, until Walker’s concerned voice breaks my concentration.

“You okay, Reed?” he asks, a mix of anger and pained understanding swirling through me, making me nauseous.

I nod, answering in a choked voice, “Sorry. Sorry, everyone. Just… just… it was...” I’m still trying to find the words when a wash of guilt and confusion pours over me like ice water, and I flip around as Jonah stares dejectedly at the floor, shoulders caving in, face crumpled. “Oh. No, Jonah. No.” Standing, I press my forehead against his, nose to nose, and inhale deeply. He startles slightly, then relaxes against me and inhales deeply, too. “It was a bad memory,” I whisper, not moving. “Just a memory. No one braids my hair but Gemma… I just didn’t expect… I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head minutely. “No apologies. It’s okay.I’msorry.”

I mimic his words back at him, “No apologies. It’s okay.”

He steps back and looks at me critically. “At least your hair’s done,” he says lightly, clearly trying to make me feel less awkward. I appreciate the effort, and suddenly it’s like a switch is flipped in the room, all the men trying to appear busy in order to give me time to calm down from the past couple of minutes. Walker is stacking and restacking the same few pieces of paper, Smith is lining up pencils and pens, Deo is focusing on a folder in front of him, and Jonah, well, sweet Jonah is just staring at his hands.

Once I feel level, I clear my throat. “We ready to go?” I ask in a quiet, but steady tone, and Smith looks at me consideringly, a quick look of something close to admiration flashing across his face.

“Well, alright Reed. Let’s begin. We need to go through the…” Pausing, he cocks his head, and sighs. “Wait. If I’ve learned anything from working with you addicts, it’s to check your coffee levelsbeforeI start talking. Or it’s going to be five minutes and then you’ll need break time. You’re toddlers.”

It’s said with the hint of a teasing smile, and I want to be offended, but it’s the damn truth. It’s almost a ritual to interrupt Smith about halfway through the first page, and I pout a little that he’s caught us out. He smirks at the expression on my face, then mouths, “Gotcha,” and winks. It should be illegal for fucking Vikings to wink.Illegal.

Jonah speaks up quickly. “I’ll make the drinks.” Looking at me, he asks gently,“Want some green tea instead of coffee? It’s very soothing.”

Deo snorts, then has a coughing fit, having choked on his water, and I pound on his back until he catches his breath.

“Jesus, sorry. Jesus!” he chortles, laughter bubbling up unexpectedly, the sound so rare and beautiful I turn towards him like a flower to the sun, basking in the warmth of Hideo, everything else fading in the light of his emotion. He grins at me, white teeth flashing, eyes glimmering with amusement. “Sorry! Just… green tea! And Kai!”

Mock offended, I poke him. “One time, Deo! One freaking time, and you never let me forget it!”

“You broke a window, Kai! With the…” he makes a strange throwing motion, “and then the ‘Eep!’...” Deo’s laughing so hard at this point he can’t continue, and Maddox, Walker, and Jonah stare at us in strange fascination.

“Was that supposed to be me?” I ask, growling. “She had it coming! And the fuckingcricketwith the thing!” I wave a hand around my head, and he collapses back into his chair.

“You set us back a month on that case, KaiKai, you know you did,” he says affectionately. “The whole ‘it’sgrass! They’vepoisonedme!’ And then the trying to dump it in the plant?” His voice gets high and mincing, clearly trying to sound like me and utterly failing, “Mmmmm. Ilovethis tea!Thankyou!”

“What the fuck?” Walker asks, completely perplexed. “I mean… I don’t even know! What the fuck?”

Deo struggles to get himself under control, still grinning. “Oh. It’s a long story. You had to be there.”

“Youhad to be there,” I mimic, and he grins at me, saying, “If youweren’t there,then…”

“... where were you!?” we finish together, the memories from one of our first cases together making my face crease in its Cheshire-Cat grin.

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