Spook Pt.16

"Misty, can you ask Ari to join us? I need to ask her some questions."

"She was real torn up." Misty was behind him. "Walk quicker. Move that fine ass. She's still thinking about tying you up and keeping you. Head to Sinsen's store. I'll try and lure Ari out."

"Sinsen's store. Right." Killian's eyes scanned the crowd, looking for enemies. Even though he had quit the job over a year ago, he still had people out to get him.

Sinsen was working in his shop, bent half over grinding some paste in his mortar with a large wood pastel. He looked up briefly when Killian walked into his space.

"What you doing boy?"

"Hiding. Why else would I be here old man?" Killian greeted with a smile, putting his hands in the pockets of his shorts.

"Picking up a date?" The man chuckled as he pulled the paste out of the mortar and put it on a wooden table.

Killian laughed before looking around and finding a chair covered in dusty books. He easily transferred the books from the chair to the floor, dusting off the seat before utilizing it.

"I don't need to look for dates. They find me."

"What are you up to?" He asked with sniff as he began to mold and then cut the past before wrapping it in clear cellophane. "Don't tell me nut'in because that's crap."

"Told ya. Hidin'. From Momma Moon. She was planning on doing something stupid and I planned on stopping her. Hopefully I convinced her. But I didn't feel like being kept as a pet messenger."

"You quit the stuff ya? So you don' have to be a pet any longa. You keep coming down her'an people will always try to keep ya." He smiled at an older woman who was probably only in her thirties but looked fifty.  "You can pay me back later."

"Yeah, I quit." Killian sighed, crossing his arms behind his head and stretching before sliding down in the chair and putting his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. "And yeah, I know. But I have to come down here to get information. Plus, Lowtown in my home, despite my lack of residence at the moment. I'm not gonna run cause of Mickey trying to collar me again."

"It's not running if ya are choosing to leave." Sinsen smiled.

"It's still running if I'm leaving because of shit coming after me. Besides, I can't function outside of Lowtown. I'm a street punk and I'll always be a street punk." Killian shrugged, keeping his arms behind his head as he shrugged. "That's the way it is. You know that as well as I old man."

"You huntin sumting then?" A bushy eyebrow arched.

"Somethin' is right apparently." Killian frowned, his brow furrowing before he opened his eyes and looked toward Sinsen. "Hey old man, you been around a while, seen a lot of shit in your days. Yeah?"

"Ya boy I have. Not dat has dun me much goods." He sat, putting arthritis swollen hands on top of his table. "Whatcha need?"

Killian was quiet for a moment, reviewing thoughts and the information he has compiled. "Do you think that shit that doesn't exist does? Like demons for example?"

A laugh as worn out as the tools he used Sinsen rubbed his chin. "Yeah. I do. I saprized ya don't."

Killian quirked an eyebrow before pulling his legs in and leaning forward in his chair. "You're kidding me, right? Demons exist?"

Sinsen kept chuckling for a few minutes before patting his crooked hands on his swollen knees.
"Boy. I be old. Really old. You be seeing things. You be talking to 'em. And ya tink the thawt ova demon odd? Ya be wearing binders on dose big blue eyes."

Licking his lips, Killian's eyes narrowed as they flicked over his old friend almost suspiciously. "I thought I was just a freak." He finally muttered, before standing and moving up to the rickety counter. He placed his left arm on the surface, showing the white markings.

"Off topic for a moment. Have you seen something like this before?"

Sinsen rubbed his chin again and let one big rusty cough escape.

"Aye. Have. But it was awhile ago."

"Do you know what the fuck it is?" Killian's heart started to pound in excitement and hope.

"Naw sure. Seen it in pairs. Ya know. One on one person same on the other." His grey eyes looked up at Killian "Who has your match, hmm?"

Killian sighed and sagged on the counter. "You can't tell me anything else bout it at all? Anything?" It was clear that he was starting to feel hopeless in relation to information about the tattoos.

"A pare ov people with matching marks like dese mean a tight bond boy. Who be yer otha half? Who ya been feeling for?"

"I ain't feelin' shit!" Killian clenched his fist and pounded it on the counter before spinning away and going back to the chair and flopping into it. "This shit was a fluke."

"Ya believe dat you been bonded out ova fluke? Boy look at ya." He pulled his stiff arms around him as he spoke. "You been wearing this coat of pain. Dark. Sad. Bloody."

"Even if I agree that I have this so called cloak of pain around myself, which is complete bullshit, what the fuck does that have to do with anything?" Killian crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the old man. But the glare masked wariness and perhaps a little fear that he was so readable.

The old man's wrinkles began to frown on their own. Long finger pointing at him began to shake.
"Ya want my help ya betta listen. I ain't dose up dere who has used ya. You make yer choices. Damn brat."

Killian sighed, slumping in the chair and rubbing his face. "You're right. You've always been good to me. But could you please answer the question? What does that have to do with anything? What does any of my supposed hang ups about my past have to do with the markings or who has the other half?"

"'Cause boy yer karma is backwards. You have a price ta pay for what ya did even if it was ta survive. It already haunts ya. At times karma steers ya to some one, sumthing. It helps heels ya." His hands flourished outwards, upwards, a rickety orchestra of limbs.  "You been stubborn to survive. Dun be too stubborn ta loose sumthing dat you need. Hard headed fool."

"I swear he gets uglier every time we see him." Misty lounged on the counter top with her legs crossed. "Found her but I'm not sure how long she going to stay around if you know what I mean Kill-boy."

"Yeah Misty, I know what you mean. Just give me a min with the old man, k? Keep her round. And don't fucking call me Kil-Boy. I'm not that person anymore." He glared at his best friend, not worried about Sinsem thinking him crazy. He was used to it. He turned his attention back to the old man.

"Even if that was what Jet is or was or what the fuck ever, you know as well as I old man that even if I could feel somethin' like that, I don't deserve to. Besides, it'd never work. He's a copper, detective at that and lives in between Mid and High Town. No place for someone like me. Now, can I crash here today?"

"No." He turned away from Killian to stand up and limp back towards his mortar. "You has a place. Don't spit in the face of the Crone boy. Go ta your Jet. Face what ya fear."

"Fine. I'll find somewhere else to sleep. I won't be another kept pet. Thanks for the info old man. I may come back with some more questions soon." Killian stood up himself and dug a wallet out of his back pocket, Joe's wallet in fact. He took a few twenties out and placed them on the counter before heading towards the door.

"Killian." The man growled loudly. "You can't run forever boy."

"I can try." Killian growled back but it didn't have any strength behind it. He sighed and looked around for Misty.

"You don't have much time." Misty called out from an empty stall just a few down. "You better hurry."

Killian dodged the people between he and the stall, walking swiftly to where Misty waited. "She fading?"

Misty nodded pointing to the girl who looked tired, worn, near gone. "I think she just can't hold on any more."

"Ari, sweetie, take some energy from me. Freely given, freely received. I need you just for a few minutes more and than you can rest. Please?" Killian's voice took on a soft, coaxing cadence that he only used when dealing with some of the weaker spirits. He kneeled down in the dirt and the grime, holding out his hands towards the barely there mist of a girl.

He concentrated on pushing his own waning energy towards his hands and towards the girl.

"Why?" Her voice was barely a whisper even as her form became brighter. "What would you need of me?"

"Information. Information that could help save lives." Killian continued to pour his own essence into the spirit, feeding her. "You said that the man your mother viewed was a demon. How do you know that he's a demon? Why is he killing?"

"I don't know. I saw him take that other girl." Ari's translucent hair covered her face. "I saw him beat her, choke her, and then it was like a nightmare."

"Leeann? You saw him take Leeann?" Killian licked his lips, thinking quickly. "His hands . . . he wasn't holding daggers was he? The knives . . . were a part of his hands?"

"Knives?" She looked confused for a moment. "He didn't have knives. She begged for him to stop but he kept at her. Laughing at her. Tearing her apart and never letting her die, not, not really. His claws sunk into her and bleed her before . . ."

"Claws . . . that explains it." Killian mumbled, looking away for a moment and receiving dizziness for his trouble. He had to stop giving her energy soon but he still needed more information. "Is that what made you think he was demon? Are you absolutely positive he was a demon?"

"He took her spirit. He reached inside and took out her soul, but, someone was coming and he ran." She quivered. "His eyes were red and angry. He was a demon."

That explained a lot. He thought it had been strange that he hadn't been able to talk to Leeann. That he had only been able to see imagines, memories, but not actually speak to her. It had been because she hadn't fully been there. To think that their souls, their very essence had been stolen from them - it made Killian sick to his stomach.

"I . . . I understand. Thank you Ari. I appreciate you telling me all this. I'll try my best to stop him."

"Can you tell me if I'm going to hell?"

Killian's jaw dropped as he stared at her for a moment and then his lips curved into a warm smile. "I don't believe in hell but if there is one, you're headed for the place farthest from it." Killian let his arms drop, heavy at his side, cutting off the energy transfer.

"Thank you." Her voice was a distant sound as the energy seeped away and she crossed over.

The blue haired man blue out a breath, barely putting a hand out in time to catch himself against the dilapidated wall. Dizziness nearly overcame him, weariness tugging him down. He'd barely had two hours sleep in the last two days.

"Baby, you couldn't add two and two at the moment you're so damn drained. Crawl your ass back to the old man's and take a nap." Misty chastised.

"He doesn't want me there. He told me that I couldn't crash there." He gripped the side of a board and pulled himself to his feet, wavering slightly while rubbing his face. "Have to get out of here though. Too vulnerable if Joe decides to retaliate."

"He'd take you in if you looked like death, which, you do and I don't think Joe will be looking for you down here. Bitch, give it a rest."

"But I have to warn Jet, Misty. He's planning on staking this asshole out. He can't do that." Killian moved out of the opening of the broken down stall, using it to hold himself up. "I just need a minute and then I'll be fine."

"To hell with the cop right?"

"Just because I want to punch him in the face right now doesn't mean I want him dead. Besides, I don't know what'll happen to me if he does die because of this fucking bonding mark." But there was no conviction, no strength in his words.

His eyes burned he was so tired but he had to get topside and find a working phone. Because the truth was, he didn't hate Jet. Couldn't hate him and definitely didn't want him harmed.

"You're going to pass the hell out, period, at least admit it. What are you going to do if you pass out in some store? End up in a hospital?" Misty's spectral foot tapped beneath her. "You fucking don't listen."

"Are you kidding me? I'm the only one who'll listen to your naggin' ass. Just let me get topside, make a phone call, and then I'll crash in my truck. That chill with you?" Kil began to walk along the sewer walkway, keeping one hand on the walls when he could while still striving to look awake and alert.

"You're not going to make it to a phone call, just get to your truck." Misty flicked the man off.

"I have to warn Jet, Misty. You know that." Killian finally made it to the main waterway without any incident. He just had to make it up the access and then out of the center district to his truck without anyone harassing him.

"He can wait a hour. You don't think he's going to find this thing in a hour do you?"

"You know when I crash I'm not gonna wake for nothin'. Especially not after an hour." Kil finally found the ladder up and grabbed the rungs in front of him. Looking up, it seemed like such a daunting task to climb.

"What if you pass out in a store? Or at the corner? Joe is going to kill you."

"Nah, you won't let dat happen." Kil said confidently, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against the cool, damp metal of the ladder rung. He just had to rest for a moment.

"I can't keep you up by the beauty of my voice alone the entire time." She huffed with a stomp of her high heels.

"What's the 'spose to mean?" He mumbled without opening his eyes.

"Killian. Please, get to the truck. I'll get to Jet."

"What are ya gonna do? Wait til he fogs up a mirror?" Killian slurred before sighing and forcing his blurry eyes open. Taking a deep breath, he reached up and grabbed the rung above him and began to pull himself up. His arms trembled from the effort. Lack of sleep, not eating since the night before, and his energy donation to Ari had completely drained him. Misty was right. If he continued like this he would end up dead from carelessness. He hadn't lived for as long as he had by being careless. "Fine, I'll go to the truck."

"I'll stay with you until you're in there and then I'll figure out how to get tall and hung over here to you. Just so you know I'm so watching your ass get rode for all this trouble."

"Why the fuck would my ass be chewed out? For findin' answers?" Killian finally made it to the top of the ladder, holding onto it with one hand while pushing the grate out of the way with the other after making sure no one outside was watching.

"I meant fucked." Misty let out a loud laugh.

Killian groaned, and not just from Misty's horrible comment. "No, no you won't. I told ya, no more." Killian covered the hole and the pulled himself to his feet. He took another deep breath before working his way down the alley.

"I think saving your fine ass allows me one free ticket to seeing it pounded by that mountain of deliciousness."

"Ugh, God you're awful. And you already cashed in yer free ticket." Killian used a different path then the one he took to get to his current position, keeping away from the bar that Joe might have still been at. It was only a few blocks away to his truck.

"I don't see anyone around that gives a care." Misty spoke before veering back to the sex topic just to keep Killian awake and annoyed. "No, that was my pay back for being risky and letting a cop screw you in our apartment."

Stopping outside of a burnt out shop, glass littering the sidewalk, Killian leaned against the charred doorframe, breathing heavily. "You didn't risk anything. You disappeared. Weren't even there." God he was tired. Would he really be in so much danger if he crawled inside the rubble and took a nap?

"In the truck Killboy or the next cock up your ass won't be welcomed."

"Don't call me Killboy!" He grumbled before pushing away from the crumbling frame. The rest of the trip was slow, many people switching to the other side of the street to stay away from the apparent crazy man talking to himself.

His truck was like a holy mecca and Killian a man at the end of a pilgrimage. It took a moment for him to fumble for his keys but he was eventually able to pull them out of his pocket. He stumbled to the back of his truck, his hands shaking as he unlocked the window of the camper covering the bed of the large truck. He opened it with a squeak of rusty hinges.

He kept ragged bedding in the back of his truck, along with a few other things. Unfortunately, not a change of clothes. But emergency rations, money, and few trinkets that he was grateful not to have lost in the fire. He used the last of his energy to pull himself up onto the back of the truck and throw himself into the bed, falling onto the collection of blankets and pillows.

He had enough strength of mind to pull the window closed and lock it before falling with a sigh onto the softness.

"MP, ya find way to warn Jet."