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“I will explain it all in detail later, I promise. But understand that these people are not on our side and they never will be. They hunt people like us,” Celia said and nodded at the chair that Lou just vacated. “Sit.”
“Oh, I don’t do well with-” I started and felt all the blood drain from my face.
“You aren’t getting a tattoo, don’t worry. We only have to make it appear like you are,” Azolata said and both he and Celia pushed me into the chair. I landed with a grunt and looked up at the two of them. Every single instinct inside of me, most that I wasn’t even familiar with yet, told me that I could trust them.
Celia took a seat across from me. “Be calm. It’s okay. I’m right here.”
I suddenly remembered my mom telling me that same thing when I had to get a shot at the doctor’s office.
I’m right here.
Azolata pulled out a piece of paper and sketched something on it quickly before he used it as a stencil to draw it on my left arm.
It was a tree, with the roots growing towards my hand and the branches reaching up to my forearm.
“That’s really pretty, sir,” I said softly, staring down at the drawing on my arm.
Azolata looked up at me and I couldn’t read his face or what he might have possibly been thinking.
“Thank you, Dante,” he said.
The three of us looked towards the door when we heard the bells ringing. The way Celia’s shoulders tightened let me know that I wasn’t the only one who heard them ask for Azolata. The girl at the front tried to explain that he was busy with a customer right then and if they would like to make an appointment-
She was cut off by a man in his early thirties heading around the counter and straight towards us.
Azolata turned his back to the door and began fiddling with his equipment. Celia looked down at her phone in her hands. I very suddenly and desperately missed Lou.
The man appeared in the doorway and glared down at me. I looked back up at him, confused. He wore all black: jeans, shirt, jacket. His hair was dark brown and jaw was square but his looks were so generic that it was hard to find anything notable about him.
He glanced away from me and looked to Celia.
“Look who else is here,” he said. He had a southern drawl that made my skin crawl and fists tighten instinctively. I decided to call him Tex.
Celia didn’t even look up from her phone. I wished I had her kind of confidence.
“Can I help you?” Azolata asked quietly. He had the pen in his hand and was turned in his chair so that he faced the doorway. I focused on the black latex gloves that covered his hands and tried to keep my breathing even.
I didn’t know if Tex was anything other than human, but if he was, he should have heard the threat in that simple question.
I glanced between the two as Tex glared at him and Azolata stared back.
“Looking for Elias Ortega,” Tex finally said.
“He’s not here,” Celia said, finally tucking her phone away and looking up.
“Who are you?” Tex asked me.
“Who are you?” I responded.
Lou would be proud.
“Listen, kid, I asked you a question-” he said and stepped forward. He grabbed my shirt and tried to pull me out of the chair and I assume to my feet, but I did not budge.
Eli taught me that. I hoped he would be proud too.
Instead, I looked up at Tex and tilted my head to the side. “Let go.”
He pulled harder. The collar of my shirt tore.
I knew it was such a small thing, something that I would normally shrug off but he smelled like something that I didn't have the words for. It was irritating and he had his hands on me, transferring that smell to me, and I knew that I would spend the rest of the day trying to rub it away.
I got to my feet and realized I didn’t know what to do.
Eli would not approve of that. He told me a few times that if I don’t have a plan, that’s where things go wrong. Rushing into things without considering it from every angle got innocent people hurt.
“Dante,” Azolata said softly from behind me.
The way he said my name brought me back to my sense and I turned to him.
“You and Alpha Ortega should go. Artemio promised Elias you would bring donuts back,” he said.
Donuts. The thought made me laugh. I was considering killing this guy who still had his hand on my shirt and Azolata was talking about donuts.
“Go. I will reschedule your appointment.”
“Yes, sir,” I said and threw Tex’s arm off of me. It was too easy. I could have broken him in half, I realized.
Celia stood and left the room. He turned to watch her leave and I deliberately struck him with my arm as I passed him by. There was a clatter and a snarl of words but when I turned around, the door slammed shut in my face.
We left the shop and headed down the street to Fried and Frosted, Glenwood’s only donut shop.
“Even if you hadn’t told me anything about them, I would have wanted to break that guy into pieces and mail him back to where he came from,” I said softly.
Celia chuckled. “I wouldn’t have stopped you.”
“Who are they?”
"I'll explain at home. Both you and Lou deserve to know the whole truth about them and their so-called mission here. I know you weren't willing participants from the start, but it's time."
I didn't like the sound of that and held the door open for her. I let a couple with their baby exit before following her in. The smell of deep-fried dough and sugar wafted out and clung to the small family as they left.
“Stop making that face. We are in Fried and Frosted, be happy,” Celia chided.
They did have the best donuts in a three hundred mile radius but the thought of trained people hunting Lou and I didn't give me much of an appetite.
Then I thought of the Ortegas, living their entire lives like this.
The line was long, but it usually was. Fried and Frosted stayed open twenty-four hours a day and it had pretty steady business at all hours of the day and night.
The girl taking our order brightened when she saw us.
“How many?” She asked.
Celia looked over and up at me. “Let’s do eight.”
The girl nodded. “Coming right up.”
“Eight donuts?” I asked, skeptical.
“Eight specials. The family that owns this place and they have this talent of knowing exactly what a person needs” Celia corrected.
I wanted to ask what that was but Celia tapped my hand and pointed. The girl that took our order, no more than sixteen, was accompanied by another girl at the racks of donuts. They could have been twins with the short blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and easy smiles. They giggled at each other, even though I couldn’t hear a single word pass between them.
And I could hear more than I wanted to. I could hear the kid at a nearby table struggling with his math. I could hear the woman leaving out the door, talking to her daughter about shopping that weekend. I could hear the woman across the street getting dumped by her boyfriend of five years.
It was a lot to take in.
The girl returned and Celia paid. I took the pastel pink boxes and we headed for the door. Celia remained quiet as we headed for the parking lot around the corner and I followed her cue even though I had a thousand questions to ask her.
We rounded the corner and the bright red Mustang was easy to spot.
The young woman leaning next to it was hard to miss as well.
She straightened when she saw us coming.
“I heard that there was some trouble at the tattoo parlor,” she called out as we approached. I wished she didn’t yell. It hurt and we could hear her just fine across the parking lot.
“I suppose,” Celia said with a shrug.
My mouth went dry when I saw who it was.
“Savannah?” I said.
She turned to me and for a moment, she seemed happy to see me. It was the same automatic smile she had when she saw me on campus but then it faded as she looked between me and Celia. The same cold, dark look that Tex wore replaced the smile from a second ago.
“Dante. What are you doing here?” She asked.
I was missing something. I felt like I was thrown on a stage without anyone telling me what my lines were or what the plot was or that there was an audience of hundreds watching me.
But it was only Celia watching me, with those steady, dark eyes.
“I’m going home,” I said and paused as I went around to the passenger side of the car. I was still carrying the boxes of donuts and felt a little ridiculous but it would be better to get in the car and get away from whatever was going on between those two than to stay out there and stand between them.
But Savannah was leaning up against the passenger side door.
“Is that right? I thought you lived in the dorms with Lou?” She said. She smiled sweetly up at me. It was different from earlier; this sweet smile was used to get information from people. It was a lie.
“Oh,” I said, for lack of anything else to add. I didn’t want to say yes, we lived in the dorms and I didn’t want her to think I still lived at home. If she went there, Marciel was all alone.
“Who are all the donuts for?” She persisted.
“Me.”
I felt trapped for some reason. Celia huffed in annoyance on the other side of the car and got in. She unlocked my door and started the car up with a threatening gun of the engine.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I said and reached around her for the handle.
Savannah put a hand on my wrist. “Don’t go with her. You don’t know what kind of a monster she is. You don’t know what kind of mess you are stepping into.”
I looked at her hand, wrapped around my wrist. Her nails were painted black and her fingers were thin and fragile looking compared to my wrist.
“It would have been nice getting to know you,” I said and jerked my wrist out of her hand with a bit more force than was needed. It surprised her.
“But you are a stranger here. Whatever you know or think you know-” I shook my head.
“She’s going to use you. Turn you into something like her. And when she does, she won’t have to pay for it, you will. You want to be like her? Murdering innocent people?” Savannah demanded.
There was something in her words, something fervent that reminded me of a word that I couldn’t think of.
“Is that what she is going to do?” I asked and nodded. I looked down at the boxes in my hand and thought of Artie and Eli, waiting back at home. “Well, I think I would rather be her monster than your...” I trailed off and shrugged. “Anything, actually.”
I got in the car and we left her behind in the parking lot. Celia pointed the car towards the east side of town and drove silently.
“Zealot,” I said, the word coming to me.
Celia didn’t have to ask what I was talking about. She only nodded.