Alexander Death(55)

“I killed a bunch of people in my hometown,” Jenny said. “I mean, they tried to kill me first, but still.”

“You shouldn't feel bad about defending yourself.”

“I started out just defending myself, but then it was like something else took over,” Jenny said. “Somebody who wanted to punish, not just survive.”

“You were waking up,” Alexander said. “I could feel it way down here in Mexico, like a psychic earthquake. I've been waiting for that all my life. Looking for you.”

“How do you remember all your past lives?”

Alexander shrugged. “Broke my arm when I was a kid. The anesthesia killed me for a minute. When I came back...” He tapped the side of his head. “I don't have full consciousness in all my lives, but I think I keep my memories much more often than most of us. Maybe because my power has so much to do with death.”

“Does your opposite remember her past lives, too?”

“The dead-speaker? No, Esmeralda refuses. I haven't even bothered speaking to her in several lifetimes, though it's worth knowing where your opposite is and what she's doing. Which is invariably nothing much, she has so little ambition. She usually insists there is no reincarnation, and if there is, it wouldn't be worth knowing about. She says only the present life matters. That's one philosophy she keeps, life after life.” He chuckled. “It doesn't make sense to me. Why wouldn't you want to know who you really are?”

“Because who I really am is a crazed murderer,” Jenny said.

“No, Jenny. That was your inner goddess coming to the fore. You're always involved in justice.”

“Like when I killed the whole city of Athens?”

“Protecting the world from their brutal empire. The Athens you destroyed was not the Athens of the great philosophers and scholars—that Athens had passed long before. The Athens you destroyed was dedicated only to power and conquest.”

Jenny thought about that. “But everybody in the city?”

“Our work is divine, Jenny. We shape history. We can't help but use our powers, so we must use them the way we think is best.”

“I feel a little sick,” Jenny said. “Do you have any more of those coca leaves?”

“Not on me.”

“Crap. I like that numb feeling they give me.”

“I do have a little of this.” Alexander lifted a drawstring pouch from his pocket, opened it, and took out a small silver spoon and a plastic baggie knotted at the top. The plastic was stuffed full of white powder. “The final product.”

“What does that feel like?” Jenny eyed it with a mix of suspicion and desire. If it could lift her heavy feelings of despair, even for a minute...

“Like chewing the leaves, but ten thousand times better.” He untied the plastic, dipped the spoon inside and held it out to her. Jenny stared at the spoon—it looked like a heaping teaspoon of sugar.

“Won't I get addicted?” she asked.

“You have to do it, like, hundreds of times to get addicted.”

“Really?”

“Sure, it's not a big deal. Watch.” Alexander held the spoon up to his nostril. She watched him block his other nostril, then snort up half the powder. Then he switched nostrils and snorted up the rest. He tilted his head back and sighed.

“What are you feeling right now?” she asked.

He sniffed a few times, rubbing his nose as he looked back at her. “Awesome. Amazing. Like Jesus on a roller coaster.”

Jenny laughed. “Okay. Just a little. Don't let me take much.”

He dipped out a spoonful and gave it to her. Jenny copied what he'd done, putting the powder up to her left nostril and then pressing the other nostril closed with her fingertip. She hesitated.

“It's cool,” Alexander smiled. “I like it.”

Jenny sniffed.

The lump of powder scorched the inside of her nose and the soft tissue behind her left eye. She blinked rapidly, and her whole head and body quickly turned numb. She coughed, tasting the cocaine as it dripped in snotty lumps down the back of her throat.

“Ugh,” Jenny said.

“How do you feel?”

Jenny looked at him, then she gave a big smile. “I feel like I just ate a pillowcase full of Halloween candy.”

He laughed. “Do the other nostril. Your nose feels better once it's balanced.”

“My nose feels pretty awesome already.” Jenny thumped the tip of her nose with her fingertip. She could barely feel the impact. It was like she was incapable of feeling pain, and giddy and hyper, and eager for more of the drug. She snorted the rest of it up her other nostril, then dropped the spoon, covered her nose, and laughed.

“Not bad?” he asked.