The Soul Mate

CHAPTER NINE

And I thought learning how to use a gun would be challenging. Xan wanted me to learn how to breathe. But not before he gave me a speech about it.

“Stress is gonna screw you up. Breathing correctly will help you with both fighting and shooting. It’s gonna relax you and get your blood flowing properly.”

He had me lying down on the grass inhaling deeply through my nose and exhaling twice as hard through my mouth.

“Focus on ridding all of the tension in your body, especially your hands.” He kept repeating. “Your hands need to be steady, that’s the most important thing. Steady hands.”

Steady hands. Steady hands. He said it so much I was afraid I would be saying it my sleep.

“How do you feel fată?”

I yawned. “Fine.”

“Good. Let’s get started then.”

Xan didn’t hand me a shotgun like most of the guys carried. Instead he gave me a small gun, a smooth black semi-automatic. His reasoning for this?

“I give you anything with a higher caliber fată and your delicate little self isn’t going to be able to operate it.”

I kept my mouth shut. I wanted to learn how to use a weapon, not fight with Xan about what kind of weapon I should use or what a sexist pig he is. I was a little disappointed though, I’d seen the bigger ones blow huge holes in those creature’s. That was the kind of power I was looking for.

That afternoon he taught me how to take out the magazine, how to empty it, reinsert it, and had me doing dry fire drills all morning. It was mind numbing. By lunch time I wanted to shoot him, only I had no bullets in the gun.

“What’s that look for Trin? You think I’d let you near me with a loaded gun before you know how to use it?” He grinned. “I may be beautiful but I’m not stupid.”

“It’s so hot.” I whined. It was late afternoon, the temperature was unbearable, and the extra fires that had been lit around camp were only uncomfortably adding to the summer heat.

Xan was sitting on the grass, the guns in-between his spread legs. He wiped his forehead on his shoulder. “Speaking of, would you tie up my hair? My hands are filthy.”

I trudged over to him. “I don’t have any hair ties.”

“Just tie it up in one big knot.”

Thick with pencil thin dreads, his hair hung down to his waist. I separated the dreads into two handfuls and tried to tie them together in a giant bow. He laughed as I struggled. It didn’t look nearly as neat as when he did it himself.

“Your hair is annoying.” I plopped down next to him. I watched, fascinated by how he disassembled and reassembled the weapons which such ease.

“But beautiful,” He said in a mock serious tone. “My mamă said so.”

“She has to say that. Not only is she your mommy, but she does your dreads for you.”

I stuck my tongue out at him and quickly slipped it back in my mouth when he tried to grab it with his greasy fingers.

“Ugh, gross,” I yelled and rolled away from him right onto a rather large and familiar pair bare feet.

Oh Gods. I looked up. And up, and saw Gerik looking down at me.

“What are you doing?” He practically growled.

“Nothing,” I said, closing my eyes and congratulating myself on my superior ability to make a bad situation worse with my horrible conversation skills.

“Okay,” He drew the word out slowly. “Then come with me, yeah?” Bending down he offered me his hand as if he actually expected me to take it. I looked at his hand. Was he crazy? Did he actually think I was going to touch him right here in front of Xan?

Realizing his mistake, he retracted the hand and shoved it in his jeans pocket. I pushed myself into a sitting position and looked up at him. His lips thinned as he realized I wasn’t going to be standing up anytime soon.

“I think I’m just, uh, gonna stay here for awhile,” I hedged.

His eyes blazed pure white, all color had disappeared. “Why?” He bit out.

I glared at him, suddenly angry that he was angry. “Because,” I retorted, sounding childish.

Xan laughed loudly. “Oh for shits sake frate, Trin just wants to learn how to shoot, that’s all. Why don’t you go re-learn how to breathe normally and by the time you’re done with that, she’ll be back in your lap again. Safe and sound and untouched.” Xan emphasized the word ‘untouched’.

Gods, what exactly had Gerik said to him?

Gerik glanced at Xan then back at me, the muscles in his face twitching. I sucked in a breath. He was going to lose it. I stood quickly, ready to go to him before he did anything stupid.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” He said surprising me as his eyes bled back to blue. “But Trinity?”

I raised my eyebrows in question.

“Don’t touch his hair again.”

Embarrassed by Gerik’s display of ownership, I refused to look at Xan as Gerik walked back to the living lot.

“You okay?” Xan asked after awhile.

I nodded jerkily.

“Good. Catch.” He tossed a dirty rag at me. “Make yourself useful before we start dry rifle drills.”

We worked in silence for a few minutes. “Did Gerik ever tell you the deal with his hair fată?”

I gave Xan a mocking look. “They’re braids, what’s to tell? I figured he’s vain about his hair. Sorta like you.”

That earned me a loud snort.

“The braiding and unbraiding of the hair is a ritual of sorts you know, one that has been passed down from the several Scandinavian family clans for hundreds of generations. Before men would go to battle their women would plait their hair, locking their strength and power in place, keeping them safe until they came home to them again.

They kept their braids in until they came home and only their women would be allowed to take them out, unlocking the warriors from their battles, bringing them peace once again.”

My heart fluttered a little. I thought of the many times I’d slid my fingers through the first undone braid, letting the silky strands glide over my hand. Gerik’s entire body would relax as if he was deflating. After I unwound the second braid I would massage his head while his long hair spilled across his back in small waves.

“What if they never made it home?” I asked.

“They died with the power tethered to their souls, it would follow them into their next life so they would be reborn again just as powerful. Or so the stories go… but who really believes that sort of crap?”

I was rendered speechless. What did one say in response to a story like that? More importantly, why hadn’t Gerik told me? Gerik and his secrets were starting to wear on me.

Xan stood up wiping his hands on an already dirty cloth. “Let’s go Trin. Pick up the rifle; I want time to wash before the dance tonight.”

I didn’t have much in the way of clothing except a pair of patched over jeans, a t-shirt and a pair of flip flops that had seen better days. Everything else I’d accumulated was either on loan from around camp or Becki’s. So I let Becki drag me to Jaelle’s tent to get ready for the fire meeting and dance tonight. The fire dances were special to the Romani and you didn’t attend one looking like a hobo.

Jaelle put my hair up in several braids, beaded with brightly colored wooden beads of all shapes and sizes. Becki let me borrow a handful of her bracelets and necklaces, some store bought, others beautifully handcrafted. A sleeveless tunic the color of violets that hit mid thigh with one of Becki’s chunky leather belts finished the look.

“I’m keeping this,” I told her, admiring my reflection in Jaelle’s mirror as I smoothed the tunic over my hips.

Becki glanced at me over her shoulder as she continued to rifle through an old trunk of clothing. “I don’t mind.” She threw a bundle of scarves over her head. “You needed something pretty anyway.”

For the first time in a long time, I had to admit, I did feel rather pretty.

The camp always felt majestic during fire dances. The fires seemed to burn brighter and a sense of togetherness filled the air. The tension I seemed to always carry with me would ease and for just a little while I could relax and enjoy myself.

The women always wore their finest. Complete with gauzy dresses and heavy jewelry, they paraded colorfully around camp. The married women were less extravagant and paired their ensembles with traditional fine spun silk headscarf’s called diklo’s.

The children were freshly washed. The men, both young and old, donned their colorful dress shirts, neck scarves and just like the women, they too appreciated an abundance of necklaces and bangles.

The guitars and violins sat by the fire as their owner’s waited in anticipation to put them to use. Coffee and water, a daily staple for all, waited on a table by the fire. Fresh vegetable stew from our small but plentiful gardens and hand woven baskets full of fresh berries and dried fruits had my mouth watering. It was a veritable feast.

I wondered what brave soul had ventured out of the wards just for the berries.

Several rabbits and a turkey slow roasted on a spit nearby. Shandor’s little brother, Simonice, looked up from his job at turning the delicious meat and grinned at us.

Becki tugged on my arm. “Look at Jericho!”

Jericho had brought out the barrels of liquor he distilled himself. Laced heavily with fruits and sugar, the Romani love it. I, on the other hand, always felt like I needed a good tooth brushing afterwards.

“Gather, children. Gather round the fire.” Maisera motioned to us all.

Tin cups were passed out and filled; I inhaled the fruity fermented scents of the liquor and sighed in pleasure. After the first sip my body instantly warmed. I laid my head on Becki’s shoulder. “I so needed this.”

Xan plopped down heavily beside me and clinked cups with me, almost spilling the precious alcohol.

“Watch it,” I told him.

“Touchy, touchy.”

“This, little Gypsy, is a precious commodity.”

“First of all Trin, there ain’t nothing little about me.” He winked and smiled that gods damn cocky smile. “And second, I have my own stash in my trailer. I don’t go on those friggin’ raids for nothing.”

“Yes,” I said dryly. “Because food and medical supplies are nothing.”

“I don’t have any damn magic like everyone else; every time I go out there I’m risking my life. I think of it as a reward of sorts for my efforts.”

“I don’t have magic either, Xan.” I told him.

“Yeah well, you weren’t raised here.”

I nodded, not wanting to imagine a lifetime of being an outsider. “That must have been hard,” I said.

Becki leaned over me. “Poor, poor Xan. His life has been full of oppression and suffering.”

“Mind your business puţin sora.”

“You know Xan, it’s kinda gross that you still call me ‘little sister’, especially after-

Xan’s eyes went wide and he nearly knocked me over trying to reach Becki in order to slap his hand over her mouth. The rest of her sentence came out in a muffled garble. She bit down hard on his thumb and he snatched his hand away quickly.

“…you and I drank that bottle of-

His hand went back over her mouth. “Would you shut up?” He yelled.

Xan cleared his throat, still glaring at Becki. “Are you going to behave? There are children around.”

Apparently propriety had become important to him in the last ten seconds.

She nodded but I could see the laughter dancing in those chocolate eyes. Stupidly, Xan removed his hand.

“…rum we stole from Jericho and screwed each other’s brains out.” She finished in one big rush, grinning from ear to ear.

I never thought it possible for Xan Deleanu to be embarrassed. I was wrong. If looks could kill… Xan would have burned Becki to the ground. Becki, unfazed, laughed so hard I thought she was going to pee herself.

“I heard that story before.” Hockey’s little brother, Stevo winked at Becki as he sat down next to her. His long hair was wet and glistening from his recent bath.

“Let’s get one thing straight Becki,” Xan said, “That was probably the closest thing to rape a guy has ever experienced,”

I turned toward Becki, frowning, and before I could stop myself, “Is there anyone here you haven’t slept with?” I asked her, perhaps a little too loud.

Alana, a heavyset blonde with an enormous set of breasts, cuddling her three small children looked over from her conversation and frowned at all of us.

With her mouth agape, all humor gone, Becki glared at me. “I’m sorry Trinity? Jealous?” I winced at the acid her voice. “It must be hard being the only person in the world who has never had sex.”

Stevo’s mouth fell wide open. Embarrassed, I scrambled to my feet and took off across the fire pit, but not before I saw Xan's head jerk up in surprise.

I ran straight towards Gerik, not caring that Onyx was sitting with him. He shot me a questioning look as I sat down. I just shook my head, and kept my eyes fixed on Jericho and Maisera who were now standing, their hands clasped and raised.

Silence had fallen across the fire pit, a sign of respect for the couple who cared for everyone like they were their own.

“Tonight we tell the story of Mullo.”