Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father (88 page)

“Now, let’s melt this ice. Let’s make room for love, Traci, for warmth. The heat between two people who are in love with one another. Two people sharing their lives together, creating a family, even if it is only the two of them. Let’s melt this ice on the count of ten, make it change on a dime…” Lawrence said smoothly as he blew onto the dime,
which spun in its ice enclosure. The ice melted within seconds, and a flame shot out the ridged edge. “It’s like the torch on the back of the dime.” Lawrence smiled as he circled the damned thing.

“This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening
,” Traci murmured, her eyes fixed on that fire.

“Now, as Saint said, we don’t want you to think this
is a trick or sleight of hand. So make a request, regarding anything you’ve seen me do, and I will see if I can manage it.”

Traci was silent.

“We are showing you this, Traci, because Jagger is like
us
. Sometimes it is easier to see someone else do things first, before the person you are in love with does them.” Lawrence shrugged.

“I didn’t have that option when I told Xenia. I didn’t know many people like me. It was me, or nothing
,” Saint added.

Xenia nodded in agreement.

“We
all
can do things, and we are in love and happy. Donna knows what I am and obviously Xenia knows what Saint is. We are human beings, Traci. Human beings with an incredible gift to help others. There is a history behind this, and we have a name, but we can get into all of that later. Now, what’s your pleasure?”

She looked at him and ran her hand over her eyes. “I honestly don’t know. I’m overwhelmed right now. I guess
…take something of mine.” She reached for her purse which sat on the coffee table and pulled out a tube of lipstick, handing it to him. Lawrence gently took it from her hand.

“Okay. What would you like me to do with this?”

She shrugged. “Make it melt I guess.”

Lawrence smiled. “Do you like this lipstick, Traci?”

She nodded.

“Then I will reform it after I’m finished. What’s your favorite lipstick color?”

“Dark red.”

“This is light red. I’ll make it darker as well.” Lawrence set the tube straight up in his palm, balancing it. He lightly blew on it, causing it to spin around and around until the thing had melted into a hot mess. Just as quickly, he blew on it again and it froze
, almost cracking. He took his finger and tapped on it, like one does when cracking open a boiled egg, then modestly approached Traci, returning the lipstick.

“It’s still quite cold and once it comes
to room temperature again, Traci, your lipstick will be dark red and in its original shape.” He winked at her as she sat there, astonished, and took his seat. “Before we continue, I want to point out something else about Jagger, Traci. You know how I spoke of his heightened senses, and Saint did as well?”

She nodded.

“That is what made him an asset to the military. They didn’t know how he was doing it. Take a look at all of his medals, Traci. Take a look at them very closely before you leave here today.” He pointed to a mantel covered in them. “No one in the history of this country has gotten that many medals for bravery in such a short period of time. It is almost humanly impossible. Just think about all of this in case you think this is a smoke and mirrors show,” Lawrence said.

“Jagger, you’re on
,” Saint ordered, still gripping Xenia’s hand, now with his eyes closed as he fought sleep and exhaustion.

Jagger sighed and stood in the middle of the room. “Traci, do you mind blindfolding me? To make sure I can’t see anything for this?”

The woman’s eyes bucked in shock.

“Go into my bedroom and pick out something you can use to cover my eyes.”

Traci stood timidly, then returned with a long black sock. She approached Jagger and tied it around his eyes.

“Now, get as many things as you want. I want you to go somewhere in the house and throw something, preferably something soft, to make it more challenging. I will hear it and tell you where you are. I want you to pick up something for me to smell too, but stand a great distance away, and I’ll tell you what it is as well.”

“Okay, but…” Traci looked around. “I’m not sure what to choose.”

Xenia shot her hand up as if she were a child in school. “I’ve got something.” She dug in her purse and pulled out an orange, careful not to say what it was.

Saint opened his eyes and looked at her in astonishment, his face balled up in an expression of, ‘What the fuck?’.

He grabbed her close and whispered, “Xenia, why is there a damn orange in your purse?”

The woman looked at him as if he had over-cooked noodles for brains. “For the kids, Saint! Isn’t it obvious? I always keep stuff like this in here,” she whispered back.

He shook his head in disbelief as Xenia handed Traci the citrus fruit. Traci rolled it over in her hands, then disappeared somewhere in the house. Where she was, no one was certain. No one heard anything, either…except Jagger.

“You’re in the guest bedroom to the left, standing inside of the closet, and you threw something small and circular. Not sure what it is exactly…,” he announced loudly, ensuring she heard him. A few moments later, Traci returned, a slight smile on her face that was overshadowed by a growing look of worry.

“Yes, that’s where I was at. I did throw something circular.” She held up the bruised orange and showed it to everyone, eliciting smiles and nods.

“Now, stand way across the room with whatever it is you have for me to smell, and ask me to tell you what it is when you’re ready.”

Traci disappeared into the kitchen. She returned with the orange and a small container of cayenne pepper. She’d sliced the orange in half and stood right outside the front door.

“Okay, baby, can you hear me? I believe you just walked outside,” Jagger called out as he fisted his hands at his side.

“Yes
,” she answered quietly.

“I’m going to concentrate and tell you what I smell in your hands now.” Jagger’s chest rose up and down very slowly as he inhaled and exhaled, the blindfold still tight around his eyes. “You have either a grapefruit or orange, smells more like an orange. You also have pepper
—doesn’t have the same zing as black pepper, must be red pepper, like cayenne. Am I right?”

Traci re-entered the room and held up the objects
. Xenia laughed and clapped.

“Is there anything else you want me to do?” Jagger asked.

Traci seemed to stand there for a long while, her lips closed, her eyes glossy. “No. I think…that’s enough.” She handed the orange back to Xenia and sat down on the couch, rolling the container of cayenne pepper nervously around between her palms. After a few seconds, Jagger reached behind his head and untied the sock.

He approached Traci
and sat next to her. This time, she didn’t flinch or jump away, but concern was still in her eyes. He took her hand and cupped it between his.

“Traci, I love you so much and I know this is a lot to take in, to accept. I understand if you need time away from me after all of this. I can’t ask you to give anymore than you can. I don’t want you to be afraid of me
. I want you to run
to
me, baby.” He squeezed her hand.

“I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. You mean everything to me. I want the same things you want. Why do you think it’s taken me so long to propose? Yeah, I had some problems regarding my ex-wife, but that was only a small part of it. The main reason was because I knew I had to tell you the truth, and I didn’t want to ruin what we have. I don’t want to pressure you, baby. I just want you to know the
real
me and love me anyway, and if you can’t, I get it. I’ll have to accept it because I always want you to feel safe and if you don’t feel safe with me anymore, then I want you to feel safe with someone else.” He paused and before anyone knew it, the man had fallen onto her lap, gripping her knees as his body shook in sheer misery.

Xenia wiped a tear from her face and remained silent. The man was saying the right shit, but in his heart, he didn’t mean most of it. Jagger would lose his damned mind if this woman walked out of his life, but he loved her enough to let her go, if that was her choice. And he wouldn’t accept it. He knew he had to say that, but he would never get over some shit like this and probably blame the entire world for being in the pain he was currently enduring. In the past, he just didn’t speak of it. He didn’t tell anyone. He felt like, if the woman wasn’t going to be his wife, then why share it? And worse off, when he tried to tell his ex, she
, too, made it appear as if he needed to be enrolled in a loony bin.

Déjà
vu.

Jagger
took a deep breath and looked so helpless—a horrible, private thing to witness. Traci sighed, looking as though she was trying to make sense of it all. Then, she slowly raised her hand, and delicately laid it on that man’s head, stroking his short, jet black buzzed hair as he gripped her knees and fell apart on her lap like a kid brought home by the cops for stealing candy bars. There was nothing worse than finding the love of your life, and then losing the love of your life, all in the same breath.

 

~***~

 

The issue was that Traci had fallen in love with a man with secrets, gifts and curses. This meant that by default, she, too, was a part of this thing, this tribe, this family. When Saint first saw her at the restaurant, and they bumped into each other, he knew she was Angel Child wife material. Not many women were, but she was and despite what was happening, he
still
believed that. It took someone with an open heart and mind, a woman willing to listen through the skepticism, willing to learn, willing to accept who her husband was and what he was about. She needed to understand that should she have that man’s babies, they could be just like him. She needed to understand that life with him would not be easy, but the good times would outweigh the bad. She needed to understand she had to be in this deep, because they were an extended family, now. Saint would be her brother-in-law, Xenia her sister-in-law, Lawrence and Donna, the same, as well as anyone else who joined their tight-knit circle.

Jagger rose and looked around, as if in a daze. He wiped his eyes, and the damned things glowed. They glowed so bright, the walls of the room seemed to reflect it right back. Saint shook his head and immediately sent him a message.

“Keep your head turned just like that. Don’t make eye contact with her! Don’t let her see your eyes, man. You gotta build up to that. She’s too fragile right now. She’s not ready for that.”

“I can’t feel them all that much, Saint. I’m too upset. What do they look like?”

“They’re bright yellow. Step away and get yourself together…”

Saint could see Xenia staring at the man, trying to save face
, but he was sure Jagger was scaring her shitless. She never got used to Saint doing it, and sometimes, during a fit of rage due to a horrific incident at work, a hate crime he was investigating, she’d see his eyes turn bright red as he’d explain the gritty details. She stopped asking him about these cases… There was no need in him scaring her to death needlessly. Love or no love, there were just some things that looked downright creepy and the spouse of an Angel Child never got used to it.

Jagger abruptly walked away. No one dared to say a word until he returned less than a minute later. He sniffed and looked around. The usual bright blue was back
, and he gave Traci a slight smile when he returned to her side. Lawrence and Saint stood back up and walked over to the couch, surrounding her. All three stood there like soldiers, their shoulders practically touching. He could feel Xenia staring at him, wondering what the hell was going on.

Lawrence slid a wooden box out of his pocket. Jagger bent low and took Traci’s hand.

“Baby, in that box Lawrence is holding is a question. That little wooden box represents the old me, but what’s inside of it represents my future. I was blocked off, a wall drawn up high to the sky. I was afraid after I realized I was in love with you. I didn’t want to get hurt again. I told you…love is the one part of my life I never seemed to get right. But this time, with
you
, I believe I finally did. I’m tired of running. I’m tired of pretending I’m just like every other man you’ve dated. I’m not. And I’m glad I’m not. I like who I am, Traci. I’m a man who loves you. I’m Jagger. I’m an Angel Child.”

Traci tossed a menacing glance toward Xenia, one that came accompanied with pursed lips and a look of disapproval from being lied to. Saint looked over his shoulder. His wife turned red and looked down into her lap. Yes…she’d been deceitful to Traci, but she had no choice.

“An Angel Child is a psychic person who has paranormal and empathic gifts, Traci. There are so many angels in the world, but two angels can make children. Saint, Lawrence, and me are just a few of them. Those two angels are the Angel of Death and the Angel of Mercy. They kiss us while we are in the womb of our mothers, and then we are born like this. They are a married couple, and that is how they reproduce. They have children all over the world. I know it sounds strange, I know it sounds…well, crazy, and we will get more into the details later, but that’s the condensed version of what we are. I needed to tell you that before I ask you this question.”

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