Authors: Elle Hill
Maricruz, clad in soft earth tones like some kind of wood nymph, bestowed her radiant smile on him.
“We’ll try not to drown you in our estrogen,” Cor said and grinned at him. She leaned her head back and took in the full sight of him. He stared back at her. “I heard about you before yesterday, you know: Big, brawny new boy. The straight Broschi girls are all aflutter. I tend to like them short and willowy, but I can definitely see myself making an exception.” She winked at him.
“I’m not a boy,” Reed said.
Cor’s grin stretched across her bony face. “Oh, honey, don’t think I can’t tell,” she leered.
Quina’s brisk voice snicked through their exchange. “How about we stick to the purpose of this meeting?”
“I agree,” Mari said tartly. “Why did you come here, Corinna?”
Cor shifted her gaze to Maricruz without moving any other facial muscles. “Just as a reminder, I prefer ‘Cor,’ sweetie,” she breezed. “And I’m here to share the word. Family Greco hereby announces its intention to spread the joy and love by helping those less fortunate and giving back to the community and giving hands up and not out and blah, blah, blah. In short, we’ve decided to fund a homeless shelter in Montebello.” Following her announcement, Cor took a huge bite of her croissant and chewed it while picking at her cuticles.
Mari and Quina glanced at one another. “So your Family is building a shelter?” Mari asked.
Cor glanced up from her engrossing self-manicure. “We chatted so far with Family Tailor, Family Perreira, and Family Cibrian. Only Family Tailor has the cash or interest.” She stopped briefly to swallow her croissant bite. “We’re introducing this to you to see if we have your support, too. And hell no, we’re not building it. It’s actually been in the works for a while and is mostly erect”—she snuck a not-so-subtle glance at Reed—“but since the city budget crisis, it’s lost tons of money and support. We’re really just tossing some money their way and getting a facility named in our honor. This smells to us like a lucrative investment.”
A homeless shelter, lucrative? Reed sat back a bit, arms folded.
“Interesting plan,” Quina murmured.
Mari glanced at Reed before turning back to Cor. “Who’s going to run it? Are you asking us for money only, or would we be involved in other ways?”
Cor dropped her head in a sharp nod. “Those are the questions we expected. I’m not authorized to hold the down-and-dirty discussions. I’m just the messenger, bringing the word, sisters and brothers. Lucky you.” She threw another wink at Reed. “We’re gonna have a Family mega-meeting in three days at noon at our house—that’s in Santa Monica, by the way,” she added for Reed’s benefit. “Can I tell Al you’ll be there?”
“Please have Alexio contact me with the specifics,” Quina replied. “And yes, Paul and I at least will be there.”
Cor clapped her hands together and rubbed them vigorously. “Okee dokey. Done deal. Al will be three shades of thrilled.”
After a moment, Reed’s quiet voice sliced through the silence. “What did you mean yes-”
“Right!” Cor exclaimed, slapping her hands against her thighs. She swiveled her head and smirked at Mari before turning her gaze to Reed. “Now that we’re done with business, let’s say you and me get to know each other better.”
Reed was pretty certain Cor’s hand did not need to be on his thigh for her to provide directions to the little café in nearby Arcadia that she insisted served “the best lattes this side of Seattle.” When she began waxing poetic about their creamy, foamy goodness, his pursed-mouth glance made her laugh.
Cor stood several inches taller than Maricruz. When she tucked her arm into his and dragged him into the tiny, aggressively cheerful café, he noticed the top of her head reached his nose.
Once again, Reed could appreciate the scene Cor had orchestrated for his benefit. The moment the door closed behind them, the hostess stiffened. After grabbing flimsy pink menus, she sighed and hastily, wordlessly, crowded them behind a remote table in the back of the dining area. A minute later she returned and plunked two waters, sans ice, down in front of them. By the time Reed raised his head to issue a wary thanks, she had retreated to the front.
Smiling just a little, Cor tilted her head at him and asked, “So what’s your sign?”
Reed sat back in his tiny metal chair. “Lately, I feel like it’s ‘caution.’”
She grinned. “I’m a Pisces, myself. Water sign, very emotional, you know. I peg you for a Scorpio; you know—silent waters running deep and all that. Is your birthday in November?”
“Are we here because you really want to flirt, or is this more about pissing off Maricruz?”
Cor laughed and slicked her hand through her short blue locks. “Can’t I do all at once? You
were
born in November, weren’t you?”
“May.”
“A Taurus. I should have known. So you noticed Mari’s little crush, huh?”
“I think it’s less a crush and more being territorial,” he said.
Cor nodded. “You
are
getting to know us,” she teased. “But don’t underestimate your cuteness, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Stoic. And more importantly, don’t underestimate Mari.”
Reed stopped himself from drumming his fingers on the tabletop. Cor called it stoicism, but he hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her he felt a need for constant wariness. “Given your own advice, aren’t you worried about deliberately riling her?”
“Ah, honey, I may love to tweak her nose, but I never underestimate Maricruz. She’s one tough bitch. Oh, good. Here’s our waitress.” With a suspiciously wide smile, Cor echoed Reed’s posture before winking at the approaching server.
A short, stout Asian woman in her thirties approached their table with a clenched jaw and blazing eyes. If their hostess had been glacial, their server radiated a fierce fury. Her gaze scraped over Reed before settling on Cor. “What do you want?” she hissed.
“A couple of your fantabulous lattes, please, Sing,” Cor chirped. Her smile blinded.
Sing stepped slightly closer to Reed and sniffed. “This the new boy?” she grated, flashing him a scalding glance.
“Fresh meat, as they say,” Cor agreed. “Not too hard on the eyes, you might have noticed.”
“Why do you insist on coming here?” Sing asked.
“Now, Sing, you know this is the only time your kind and mine can meet up and not feel compelled to, well, you know, kill and maim and shit. Besides, this place really does have the best frufru coffees. You got that order, right? Two lattes. Maybe a berry muffin for me, too. Reed?”
“We’re out of here,” he said, screeching his metal chair backward and rising smoothly. He stood uncomfortably close to the server, but she didn’t step back. She had to tilt her head to meet his eyes, but he saw no fear or intimidation in the arrangement of her features.
“Reed,” Cor tsked, but he heard the real anger flitting beneath her playfulness. “Don’t let the big, bad, and—let’s be honest here —ugly Hunter scare you away from one hell of a latte. It even has those milk foam hearts.”
“I’m not playing this game,” he said, pushing past the server. She grabbed his forearm before he could stride away.
“I smell the rot on you,” she hissed at him. “You may be smarter than this freak, but you’re still a pox-souled Leech.”
Reed leaned toward her. “You will let go of me right now,” he said softly.
Sing glanced around before releasing his arm. Reed turned his back on her and walked out of the building.
Reed expected to wait for a long time before Cor returned to the truck, but she only punished him for maybe ten minutes. She slid silently into the passenger seat, snapped her seatbelt around her, and favored him with a dramatic sigh.
“Now, Reed, you really—”
“What’s a Leech?” he asked her, starting the truck and backing out of their parking space.
Cor, for once, was silent.
“These Clan people don’t call us Broschi. I’m a brother in L.A. I recognize a racial slur when I hear it.”
Cor snorted and bit into a blueberry muffin he hadn’t noticed before. “If you knew the answer, why ask me?”
Reed glanced at her. “I was hoping someone would be honest with me for once.”
Cor grinned through a mouthful of blue-speckled dough.
“There’s more to all this than everyone has told me,” he said, merging onto the 210 freeway.
“Lucky me. You’ve decided I get to be the one to answer your angsty questions.” Cor sighed.
“Why did you take me there?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shrug elaborately. Her neon orange tank top billowed around her stringy frame. “Sing caught up with me and beat the shit out me yesterday. I figured I would pop in and say howdy. And you know, that place really does have some bad-ass coffee. I would have bought you a to-go cup, but you hurt my delicate feelings when you ran out on me.”
He tasted truth, yet . . . “That’s it? Really?”
“Of course not. The truth is, I brought you there to propose marriage. I’m thinking an August wedding. I’d go with June, but you know how I hate to be like everybody else.”
Reed remained silent for a moment. Finally, he asked, “Why do they hate the Broschi so much? No more bullshit.”
Cor took another bite of her muffin. “How should I know? I was born into this atmosphere. All I know is they hate us and we hate them. All we’re doing is trying to live, and that seems to tie their panties into a knot. They all seem to have this self-righteous superhero complex. By golly, they’ll protect those innocent humans from our wicked clutches. ‘Here they come to save the day’ and all that.”
“The Broschi never do anything to deserve the Clan’s censure?”
“Oooh, I always did like a man with a big one. Vocabulary, I mean.” She bumped his arm, scattering muffin crumbs across his T-shirt. “And, hey, we’re not perfect, but neither is the Clan. I think a big part of it is the culture of feuding. At this point, we just hate each other. Nobody needs to do anything. I’ve lost people to this war and so have they. Our hatred feeds off itself and perpetuates itself in this generations-long cycle. Pretty deep, huh? I have my Associate’s degree in Social Sciences.”
Reed remained silent.
After a few minutes, Cor popped the last of the muffin in her mouth and commented, “I thought I was supposed to be pumping you for info. We ain’t done near enough pumping.”
“You work hard to do that, don’t you? I noticed you even waited till taking a bite before talking to me.” Reed exited the 210 and turned right. They were less than a mile from the house.
Cor laughed, a surprisingly genuine sound. “I sacrifice for my art,” she said. “But enough slipperiness. I’m supposed to find out more about you. You don’t want to make my Family Head mad at me, do you?” She fluttered her eyelashes and tried to look helpless and scared.
Reed smiled at her. “Okay,” he agreed. “But first you got to tell me what that waitress said yest-”
“Server,” Cor said, nodding. “No one uses ‘waitress’ anymore.”
Reed sighed. “What did she say about me when she kicked your ass yesterday?”
Cor shot him a narrow-lidded glare. “For the record,
I
kicked
her
ass. And she wanted to know about the new guy. Since I didn’t know anything and hadn’t heard much, I decided to go all Nancy Drew and check you out.”
Reed pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nice communication system you guys got.”
“Yeah. Why say it when you can pound out some kind of Morse code onto bodies, right? So anyway, you ready to spill your bio?”
Reed grunted. “How about we stick with the basics?”
“Ooh. Maybe I should take notes. Age? Weight? Sexual orientation? Number of hearts you’ve broken? Favorite sexual position? Color?”
He glanced at her with raised eyebrows. After a moment, he said, “Thirty-one. Around two-seventy. No broken hearts. And blue.”
“A playuh, huh? I thought so. Oh, and you forgot a couple,” Cor said innocently. “Favorite sex position and which sex you like to do it with?”
“Females and none of your business.”
“Blue is boring. Everyone likes blue,” she complained, shaking her head at him.
Reed looked pointedly at her hair, and Cor laughed again. “Not as hair, smartass. Hey, are you hitting on me? You aiming to add another notch on that bedpost before the day is done, playuh?”
He parked in front of the house and shut off the engine. “You ain’t foolin’ me, girl,” he said. “I know you play for the other team.”
“Jig’s up,” she said cheerfully, sliding out of the truck. “You got a sister half as cute as you?”
He smiled. “You kind of remind me of her,” he said.
A little less than an hour later, Cor sought Reed out to announce her departure. Mari strode with her out into the backyard, where Reed sat on his haunches, stirring a finger in the dirt.
“You need a ride?” Reed asked, rising and dusting his hands on his jeans.
“You’re insatiable,” Cor cooed. “Thanks but no thanks. I’m a fan of public transportation. CO2 emissions and carbon footprints and all that. Until next we meet, keep me in your dreams, sexy.” She stepped forward, rose on her tiptoes, and smacked a kiss on Reed’s lips.
Cor turned and smiled in the face of Mari’s painfully polite expression. “Bye, Maricruz.”
“Corinna,” Mari replied, nodding. Her face remained frozen into gently pleasant angles as Cor strode back into the house.
The sudden feeling of chilled weightlessness terrified a gasp from Katana. Cold water slapped her face. She tasted salt. Looking around, she found a world clothed in various shades of blue and green. The sky twinkled above like a chip of turquoise, dotted with occasional glimmers of white. All around her, on every side but up, spread a cold body of water in which she bobbed like a smooth white cork.
Katana ran her hands down her sides and was unsurprised to find she wore no bathing suit. Her only garment was some kind of cloth belt from which her scabbard hung. She had a brief flash of concern that she wasn’t wearing sunblock, but reality—or, well, the reality of her unreality—surfaced. In fact, although the sun shone warmly on her naked face and shoulders, she could not feel the usual Southern California sting of sun on white skin.