I should've known Mark's family belonged to the mafia by the way he carried himself like he owned the world. Another telling sign was the evil that emanated from him. I should've known. Not a serial killer, but might as well have been.
"Peter collects your debt," Ray confirmed, looking at his phone. "Mark's the one that manages credits. I don't like getting my hands dirty."
What an idiot I was if I didn't know I owed the mafia big money. Of course I knew Peter was shady when I came to him broke and desperate. I knew he was bad news, and I knew not to be naïve, but I was also aware that at any second we could lose our home and Silas still had a few years left of school. I tried to fight it. But in the end, it was inevitable. My past would've followed me anywhere, and so that took out most of the legal options.
I just thought Mark was a low grade thug just above Peter, and not the heir of a mob organization.
"Did he offer you work to pay off your debt?"
I nodded. I had to be careful with my words until I figured how much Ray knew of his son's condition. "He's on the bad side of luck lately."
Ray laughed. "You're funny. No need to beat around the bush, though. He's been on the wrong side of the world since he was born."
The room where I'd been with Mark and his buddies seemed so empty now. Ray whisked the ice on his whiskey on the rocks. I sat across him, closer to the door, but I had seen the weapon he carried. Had he wanted to kill me, I would've had no chance of running away. "He's a little troubled."
"So you're the one that's gonna save him?" His father's words are cold. Mocking, even. "He's already seen a lot of... specialists. None of them could do anything, and I bet at least some of them were more brilliant than Sabela's grandson."
My eyebrows shot up. "You know my grandma?"
"I was a client of her, before she took you under her wings." His blue eyes shine as his mind travels back in time. Then, he sighs. "But I don't think you're on her level. You're too young. Proud. You need to learn first, before you take on such a job."
He was right. Not because I was young, but because his son was a lost cause. I was good at my job. Maybe not as great as Sable had been, but I could manage. But Mark's case was the worst Bad Omen I had ever seen. Just the sight of him made me want to crawl under my skin and rip out my eyes. "I'm afraid I don't have a choice. Your son has already made a decision. But I'd be thankful if you could help me."
Ray nodded. "I'll let you try. What do you need?"
"You said he's been like that since he was born?" That changed things. That was a whole different story, and not a better one.
Ray nodded again. "His mother's family is cursed. The males die at 19. Unfortunately, my son is almost 19, so his time..." He broke. I swear I saw him break in grief, even if the cold expression was back less than a second later. "His time is almost up."
"When?" I whispered, hoping it was more time than what I felt we had.
"Three months. You see? I can't have you making him too hopeful because he's going to die. I want him to face it face on."
Yes, he was right, again. Mark was bound to die, and if he somehow escaped death, he was still a Bad Omen and that would turn him crazy. One way or another, it was either death or being alive but barely living.
"If there's a possibility..." I tried to lie. Peter's brother shook his head. His ghost remained in the room, and I wondered if he was rather stuck to the club than his brother. "Wouldn't you take it?"
"How much did you ask for?"
It mostly came down to a question of money. "You ask him. He was the one that fixed the price. How did his mother's family acquire the curse?"
Ray looked troubled. His mouth became a thin line and he released a puff of air through his gritted teeth. "I'll be damned if I know. She took the secret to her early grave."
"Doesn't curse kill off the males?"
"It does. Her death had nothing to do with the curse." The way he spoke closed off that topic for good. I immediately knew Ray rather not touch his wife's death again.
"What do you know about his curse?" And before he could respond, I produced an electric recorder from the pocket of the jacket. "May I?" When Ray pointed to the small coffee table standing between us, I carefully placed the device on the smooth surface. The red light blinked.
"The curse's effect was first recorded six generations ago, but there's a possibility it began earlier than 1873. As you may know, mortality rates were high then, and the birth of female children may have watered its effects. Regarding the origin, I haven't found any instance that explains how it came to why, or why." Ray took a sip.
"Any family heirlooms that survive today?"
Ray shook his head. "Not that I know of."
"Do you know of any family feuds previous to the curse? Anything that might provide a motive to want the family hurt."
His mouth twitched downwards. "A boy from the family eloped with a rich merchant's daughter. But they were caught. He was punished and it as settled. I hardly see why they'd want to erase half of his descendants."
I nodded. "While it's probably a dead end, it's good to know."
Ray smiled sourly. "You'll find a lot of dead ends here. As many as I myself found. Everything you're about to do, I already did. What makes you think you'll be different?"
I opened my mouth multiple times, unable to form an adequate response. How could I say to a father that nothing he could've done would've saved his child? Ray seemed to have come to terms with Mark's death, but I doubted he didn't have any hope left. "You may be tired from trying, but he isn't. It's my job." Then, quietly, I asked, "How does it kill?"
"You see, that's the funny thing. Mark will be the first victim in more than 60 years. I guess we ran out of luck." Ray sighed, hiding his sadness with a sip of alcohol. "I can give you a name, but little else. The last one before mark was Caleb Donovan. He died in 1958, the night of his 19th birthday."
"And there's no information on the cause of his death," I guessed. Against my will, I was starting to see a pattern that I wasn't liking at all.
"That's right," Ray conceded, leaning against the seat. "The genealogy tree brought us to him, and I found a small obituary on the local newspaper."
"What did the specialists tell you?" I asked, although I already had an idea of what he'd answer.
"That Mark's as healthy as any other kid his age. Because we never figured out how the curse kills, I thought if I found what's wrong with him, I could cure him before it was too late. I thought, maybe it doesn't kill right away, and it spreads like cancer. But we were wrong."
Mark's dad was onto something, really. It was an illness, and it killed slowly. But the wounds it left behind, not many people could see them.. "What about... people... like me?"
"They said he has a dark aura, whatever that means."
I tilted my head. To say Mark had a dark aura was certainly the understatement of the year. He had a whole abyss around him. "I can see that," I said, weakly. "Anything else?"
Ray shook his head.
"May I speak with them?"
"I'm afraid that's not possible. Both of them are dead. Your grandma was one of them."
My grandma. Of course she would.
"My son... can be difficult. And I'm aware our position in society is particular. Maybe it's for the better if you let this go. I'll pay you regardless."
Although the socking revelation still numbed my mind, I realized the conversation was over. I wasn't going to get more of Ray than what I had already obtained. I reached for the recorder, pressing the stop button. The red light disappeared. "With all due respect, you were a client of Sabela. You already know it's not that easy. If you excuse me, I'll go now."
*******
I greeted Peter's brother on my way out. Lily, her twin brother and Peter were sitting outside. I looked for Mark, who was leaning against the opened door, a cigarette hanging from his lips. The sound team was testing a few songs and inside the bar, the clink of glass was awakening.
Although the clues were few and unpromising, I had to try. There was something... Something I had to check. As I passed Mark, I stole the cigarette. "Let's not give the cosmos more reasons to screw you."
"What did he say?" Mark was worried.
"Not much." That wasn't a lie. He followed me outside.
"Did he tell you about me?"
I nodded. "Where's Doug?"
"My father's men took him... to talk to him."
I hesitated. "What are they going to do with him?"
"They won't kill him." Mark joked. I didn't laugh. "Where are you going?"
That world I had just entered, it wasn't like my world. Everything I thought I knew was useless there. I wasn't a seer walking among people, but a sheep walking among wolves. Although Mark was dangerous, I had to remember the others that circled him weren't innocent, either.
"I'm going to do my job."
"Can we come with you?"
"I work alone."
Mark put on his sunglasses, although it was almost night. He approached me, but avoided touching me. He remembered. "Can I come?"
Three months. That was it. And Mark would be dead. I'd play my role, and then I'd be free. I started walking towards the bus stop, and when I didn't hear his footsteps behind me, I turned. "Aren't you coming?"
Ray had asked me. He had finally mustered the courage to understand his son's ailment. "What have you seen in him?"
I told him the truth."Hell on Earth."