Page 5 of Aleko
“No,” she said. “No, it doesn’t.”
The fisherman dropped her at the seawall, shoving a ratty sweatshirt at her. Lia put it on and took a moment to pull leggings and sandals out of her bag. The purse had seemed practical and stylish when she’d purchased it to go on vacation. A leather bag that converts to a backpack—with hidden compartments on the interior—perfect for traveling! She hadn’t known how much she would come to rely on it. She hoisted the bag onto her shoulders and surveyed the street, not venturing into the areas lit by the streetlights.
She had arrived in Kavala in the back of a van crammed with other illegal immigrants. Abandoned in a small town in Greece, Lia had set out for the U.S. Consulate in Thessaloniki only to arrive at barred gates and a fading sign that declared it had been closed since the initial wave of the pandemic. All passport services were now handled at the Embassy in Athens. She had called every name in her contact list, but no one had picked up her call, and Lia had belatedly realized that her time in the hospital had taken more than just a year of her life but also all of her friends. With only fifty euros left to her name, Lia had risked everything on a shady-looking guy with a delivery van offering to take refugees to the capital. Crowding into the back with eight other undocumented individuals, Lia realized she was now alsoa refugee.
Later that night, she had awakened from a fitful sleep, pressed against a girl about her age to the sound of the driver speaking in Russian. He was arranging to meet his contact across the border in Bulgaria, where he planned on selling all of them. Fortunately, he didn’t speak enough Arabic to understand when Lia roused her fellow van passengers. They were able to break free, but that had left her on the dusty road to the port town of Kavala.
During the first three weeks in Kavala, she’d slept in a field. It had taken her that long to save up enough to get into one of the youth hostels. She and Imani, the girl she’d slept next to in the van, had joined forces to watch each other’s backs, and together, between begging and working odd jobs, they’d managed to get enough cash for a bunk in a women-only room. They’d taken turns sleeping and guarding each other’s belongings. It had been a good partnership that had lasted until Imani’s brother turned up three months later. He’d snagged a job in Italy and had a place for them to live. They had invited Lia to come with them, but by then, Lia could afford a bunk and a storage locker of her own, and she’d come up with a plan.
When she’d turned down Italy, she estimated that she’d be leaving Greece in three months. She had severely underestimated the bureaucracy, bribes, and just plain curve balls she would have to face. A yeast infection had set her back when she’d had to pay back-alley prices for medication. A weekly bribe to a sleazy cop had cost her an arm and a leg for months. She could have gotten away without paying if she’d been willing to fuck him, but she hadn’t been. Then there was the kid who broke his leg. Only a heartless bastard wouldn’t have contributed to getting it fixed. There had been other emergencies that hadn’t been hers as well, and Lia didn’t regret any of them, but they had slowed her down. It had now beensix months since Imani had left, nine since arriving in Kavala, and Lia estimated it would be another two months before she had enough saved to be able to leave. But she was desperate to make it happen before then; that’s why she had taken the job with Galatas. Working with him was always a risk, but she hadn’t thought it would put her face-to-face with Alekos Ash.
She shivered in the fisherman’s sweatshirt. It smelled faintly of bait, and she tried not to mind. It was more than she’d had ten minutes ago, and she was grateful. There wasn’t any reliable place to sleep in this part of town, and it was now past curfew at her hostel. Her choices were the beach, which was patrolled semi-regularly, the street, or walk herself all the way back to the field where she could probably bum a little bit of tent space from Alma or Rami. Except that by the time she made it back to the field, it would be nearly dawn.
There was one other option. It was risky, but Lia didn’t think she had much of a choice. Lia walked the six blocks to the Kavala Art Museum, keeping to the shadows as much as possible, and then detoured to avoid a local bar that was too well-lit for her comfort. She circled the museum and went to the backside, where a parking lot and the garbage bins were. She knew there were security cameras in the building, but there weren’t any out in the parking lot, and she didn’t think there were any on the outside display area—at least none that were monitored in live time. Gathering her courage, she climbed on the bins and scrambled over the brick of the wall. The Kavala Art Museum housed a lovely collection of curated art inside and a hodge-podge collection of archaeological bits in the courtyard. It was as if every random local discovery of the last seventy-five years had ended up there. It wasn’t organized into any discernable order, but Lia still found it rather charming.
One of the problems with being homeless was that there weren’t many places for her to simply sit down and rest. Themuseum offered half-price tickets on Monday mornings, and Lia sometimes went to sit for a few hours and stare at paintings. It was a chance to divorce her brain from reality and let it rest on something beautiful. But she had also noted the shaded bench in the corner hidden by grape vines that might be good for a quick nap. And last but not least, she had discovered something surprising about one of the objects in the courtyard. She supposed the curators knew all about it, but they certainly didn’t advertise it. Lia had only discovered it by accident when she had tripped and put out a hand to catch herself on the Egyptian obelisk. Her hand had slammed simultaneously into the ankh symbol and the incised figure of Isis, and then a little panel in the base had opened up with a grating noise that made Lia jump. She’d been worried that she’d broken it. But she hadn’t. There had been no shocking revelations or treasures, just a small empty compartment, but Lia had thought that if she ever needed to store something, that was probably a safe spot.
Lia went quickly to the tall sandstone obelisk, trying to tip-toe in her sandals. She opened the compartment and dug in her bag for the stick.
“What are you doing?” demanded the dead woman, appearing without warning. Lia swallowed a scream and tipped back onto her butt in the sand of the courtyard.
“I’m not talking to you,” muttered Lia.
“You can’t put the wand in there,” said the woman. She was very pale, and in the light of the moon rather than the strobe lights of the club, she appeared iridescent, and her ears seemed pointed. “You need to use it. It was well done to get it away from the warlocks, but now you must use it.”
Lia grabbed the wand and wedged it in the compartment.
“Now listen here, young lady. You take that wand—”
Lia pushed the carvings with extra force, and the door slid shut, cutting off the wand from her view and ending the deadwoman’s rant.
“Not real, not real,” Lia muttered, trying to convince herself for the billionth time.
With shaking hands, Lia went to the bench on the far side of the courtyard and curled up with her bag as a pillow.
“Everything will be better in the morning,” she said grimly. It was a lie. It was always a lie. But if she allowed herself to believe anything else, she would have given up long before now.
Episode 5
The Olive Tree
Alex
Alex started the car and waited for Sebastian, trying not to grind his teeth. His head hurt, and he’d slept like shit. Last night had been an utter disaster, and it had been his own fucking fault.
Grab the warlocks, find out why they were in Greece, and then drop-kick their asses into the Aegean. There were only five warlocks, so it should have been easy—manageable, even with just him and Sebastian. Instead, he’d been completely distracted by the girl, lost the warlocks, and nearly gotten them both arrested. They were too close to success to screw up now. He couldn’t believe he’d let it happen.
He closed his eyes and leaned back against the headrest. An image of the girl popped up unbidden. Honey hair around her shoulders, green eyes wide, as she stared up at him. Her skin has been soft, and her lips… the sweetest fire.
He groaned and thumped his head against the headrest. For six months, he’d seen her on the side of the road, and for six months, he’d driven right by her, telling himself that he didn’t need a hooker. It was only one kiss, but now that he’d actually had his hands on her, he knew there was no way he’d be able to drive by again. The smell of her still seemed to linger on his hand. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had gotten under his skin like this.
“OK,” said Sebastian, climbing into the Maserati. “I’ve got some feelers out, and it’s not like a bunch of idiots dressed like a Neo-Nazi gay pride parade aren’t going to get noticed. I’m sure we’ll get a hit soon.”
Alex shook his head. “With my luck, they used a contactlesscheck-in Air BNB.”
Sebastian chuckled. “I feel like that might actually get them noticed faster. What we need is a contact in the police or someone’s grandma to call around and find out the gossip.”
“Fresh out of grandma’s,” said Alex, his tone surly.
