The Blood Witch Saga

1. Of Unknown Origin-2

There was talk about where we would stay and how it would be arranged, followed by most of us breaking up into small groups. For once I was grateful to have left my cell phone in the car and for the fact that I kept a spare key in a magnetic box hidden under the back bumper. I called into work to let them know I wouldn"t be in. My boss was sympathetic and told me to let her know if I needed anything. I sort of laughed and told her I needed just about everything.

That was when I saw him again, the strange man. His suit was clean and unwrinkled, his hair practically shined in the morning sun. His green eyes were watching me as I got out of the car and started toward the property manager. I detoured toward the man. “Did you do this?” I asked when I got close enough, my voice pitched a bit higher than normal.

“Of course not. I warned you.”

“No, you were a cryptic creep. Is this what you were warning me about?”

“I told you it isn"t safe. They know where you are.”

“Who?” I asked, crossing my arms. It probably looked ridiculous in my shorts, T-shirt, and bare feet, but I knew that when properly suited for work, it had a withering effect on anyone I leveled the look at.

“I could explain it all if you would just come with me.”

I shook my head. “I"m not going anywhere with you. Explain now or I"ll tell the fire marshal that you were acting strange and following me.”

He shook his head and tried to take my hand to lead me away. “Please, it isn"t safe. They weren"t sure which apartment you were in, but now you"re exposed. They are probably watching us right now.”

“Wait, are you saying that whoever started this fire was looking for me?”

“It fits their way. They would kill an entire building of people just to flush you out so that they could get to you.”

I don"t know if it was the fire, the old memory dancing in the back of my mind or what, but somehow his words chilled me. “Who would want me dead?” I asked, glancing around us. “I"m nobody special.”

“It isn"t so much you specifically, and they’re trying to kidnap you…so that they can kill you later. Come with me, I will keep you safe.”

“I"m not going anywhere with you. I don"t even know your name.”

He took a step back and removed his hat, sort of bowing toward me. “Forgive my manners. I am Finneas Connor. I was a friend of your father"s.”

That brought me up short. “My father?” I shook my head. “I"ve never had a father. Or a mother. You clearly have the wrong person.”

“How many Thána Alizons do you think exist in this world? I am not mistaken. Neither are they.”

“Who are they?” I asked, frustrated now that I"d let him draw me in this far. “You keep saying "they" but you"re not explaining.”

“It is a long story, one better told by a warm fire with a glass of brandy. Come.”

“I"ve had enough fire for one day, thanks.” I turned away and started back toward my car. I needed to try to get the smell of smoke out of my clothes and find a pair of shoes and sort out what else I needed. I didn"t have time for fairy tales.

“Who is that?”

I looked up to find the woman who lived in the apartment beside mine. “Some whack job,” I responded. “He says he knew my father.” I snorted and looked back at him. “I didn"t even know my father, so…” I let the thought trail off before looking back up at her. “Sheila, right? So, what are we doing?”

“Chuck"s getting us set up at that motel across the street, at least short-term. Bill has been through this before.” She pointed at a man I didn"t know. “He lost a house about five years ago. He said he"d help with getting through the Red Cross stuff and whatever. He"s collecting information for them.”

I nodded, locking my car with its reeking pile of clothes and my briefcase. At least I had that which meant I had my wallet, so I could get money. I followed Sheila to where Chuck, the building manager, was on the phone. All in all, there were about ten of us out of a home, all of us in our thirties and early forties. All of us without spouses or families. We were a sad lot.

By noon, we were checked into the motel and able to shower. Bill had scrounged up clothes for us with the help of the Red Cross. I pulled the track pants on without bothering with the underwear of unknown origin and tugged on the T-shirt over the sports b*a they"d given me. The b*a barely covered my larger than average breasts but held me in tight. Everything was very clearly secondhand, especially the broken-in sneakers, but I was dressed. That meant I could get food and clothes for work in the morning.

I returned to the bathroom to pull a comb through my hair once the mirror had defogged. My black hair was super curly, except that I visited a salon once a month to get it chemically straightened. Left to its own devices, it would become a mop of frizz. I seldom bothered with makeup, my vaguely olive skin was naturally smooth and evenly colored, and I’d always thought that eye shadow and mascara and the like were just too much work for every day.

My dark-green eyes looked dull and tired, which I suppose was a pretty fair assessment of my state of being at that moment. I wasn’t sure how much sleep I’d gotten between the end of that bottle of wine and the fire.

Satisfied that I was presentable enough for hitting the mall, I grabbed my car keys and headed out, though I admit to glancing furtively around me as I went, vaguely afraid some boogeyman was going to jump out to grab me.