Page 21 of Dima's Vision
She doesn’t startle when I step up to her. Instead, she gazes over her shoulder with a watery smile. “I knew you were here.”
I raise my brow as I wrap her in my arms. Her small body leaning into mine for the briefest of moments before straightening. Not quite trusting me, us, or the powers that be just yet. That’s alright. I have time.
“I could feel you. Somehow. Maybe killing Glenn together gave us some weird connection.” She turns to me with an impish grin on her face. “Or was it the way your big cock connected with my Grade A vagina?” She waggles her eyebrows.
I can’t help but huff out a laugh, before sobering, running a finger down her soft cheek. “You OK?”
She lets out a sigh, shoulders slumping. “Yeah. No. I don’t know!” She rests her palm on her forehead, spinning and looking at whoever this dead suit is on the floor. “The whispers, they make sense but they don’t. They’re leading me to someone. The one pulling all the strings but I can’t unravel them enough to figure it out. Because the person that I think it is died a long time ago.”
My brows narrow at the information. “A copy cat? Someone with the same gift?”
She shakes her head, hair flying around her face. “No. He had the curse to steal lives. Sucked the happiness out of people until they were mere shells that would do whatever he asked. I don’t know anyone who has the same curse. I mean, can someone else have it? Do we share the same gift as others?”
I think about it for a moment. I know there are people with gifts, but until Glenn I hadn’t met anyone like me who could find others. There’s a likelihood there could be duplicates of gifts but you’d never know. We aren’t the most outgoing of people. We usually stick to the shadows.
“I don’t know.”
“Me neither. Besides, the man I knew never fed off terror or debauchery either. So there’s the first big fat glaring question mark.” She kicks the dead man’s leg.
“Are there other questions?”
“Yeah. The whispers tell me this is a huge network, however everyone who has been named so far has been a capo or linked to the family.”
I look from her, to the corpse, then back to her not seeing what she’s getting at. “You’re a crime family. Wouldn’t it be normal for there to be bad people in the organization?”
“One or two, yeah. But according to my list, almost all of them are somehow involved in kidnapping and sex trafficking. That’s not a Mafia MO. The Mancini family run drugs.Shakedown businesses. They’re not in the flesh trade. And this many Mafia men,” she taps her temple, where the names of those she needs to end live, “into little kids is abnormal. It’s like something, or someone, is luring them into it and I’m cleaning house.”
“They’re using you as a tool.”
“Bingo.”
We stand there, staring at each other in silence as we let the conversation settle. I have lived my entire life with my gift. I’ve been trained by differentvedma, to get a handle on it, to know how to use it. But could there be someone out there using their gift, or curse, to use Kristie for their own gain? And if that’s the case what chance do we have to beat them at their own game? Fuck, what chance do I have to keep her safe?
“Argh!” she yells, frustration licking at her heels as she stomps around in her big black boots, like an angry kitten. “I need to see Brenna.”
My brows hit my hairline. “Who’s Brenna?”
“She’s my favorite barista. She makes me perfect coffee every time and makes me feel better about life.”
“She sounds like a good friend,” I offer.
A shadow crosses Kristie’s face before she shakes it off. “She is. And I’m a bad friend because every time I get a little too comfortable I run away. Don’t want her to die, see?”
She pulls her phone from her pocket, tapping at the screen and holding it up to her ear. “I need a clean up. I’ve pinned the location….. Yeah, it’s been a busy day.” She hangs up then turns to me. “So, you coming or what?”
“I’ll follow you anywhere.”
* * *
Walking closely behind Kristie I follow her into a little coffee shop that looks like My Chemical Romance and Marilyn Manson had a baby. I spot the woman Kristie spoke about almost immediately. There, in the middle of the Black Parade setting, is a woman who exudes pure light. Her clothing at odds with Kristie and everyone else in here. Instead of black, this woman is dressed in a brightly colored dress, her red hair blazing in the small beam of sunlight coming through the front window.
“Kristie! You’re back again. One of those days huh?” The woman, I think Brenna is her name, beams at Kristie.
“Yup. And I’ve brought someone. Dima, this is Brenna, Brenna, Dima. I told him how your coffee always perks me up.” I stare at Kristie, yet again seeing another facet of her personality. This one light, airy, as if being in Brenna’s company unburdens her.
“Hi Dima! It’s lovely to meet you,” Brenna beams and I can’t help but smile back.
She tilts her head a little, her eyes roving over my face for a quick moment. Not in an uncomfortable way, more in a curious way, as if she’s reading me. “Do you mind if I make you something I think you need, rather than want?” she asks, her lips tilted up.
