Benjamin Cantrell

Marti was actually scared. She was scared of having failed to fulfill her oath. I could relate. "I promise, Marti, to not take the easy way out."

"Okay. If you are trapped, or for whatever reason feel that a painful death is imminent, say or think 'I take my last breath' and do so until your soul eclipses."

"Thank you," I nodded. "What happens to people who can't think for themselves? Coma patients, for example?"

"Coma patients usually eclipse. There are rare cases of them holding on, but they usually go mad anyway," Marti volunteered. "One more thing."

"What's that?"

"CJ didn't make you immortal with her kiss, she just broke the bond that was holding you back."

"Explain that."

"Kyle is quite sure that you were immortal before you got married to Louise. When you said your vow, 'Till death do us part' and sealed it with the ring, that brought you back to being a mortal. When you took off your ring, you let go of your vow. With me so far?"

"Makes sense." There was one more thing.

"When CJ kissed you, she finished breaking that bond and let you feel that you had purpose again. That gave your full immortality back. It probably would have happened if any immortal woman had kissed you, CJ was just the first."

Purpose.

"I'm going back to the club," I announced. "Can I count on you to sing?"

"Nope."

***

The club seemed rather slow for a Friday. Would people stay away because of my treatment of CJ? I hated that my actions would affect my assistants. They didn't seem too concerned, though. I eventually spied Ashley and went to talk to her. "Everything okay? We didn't have a gas leak or something?"

"It's some convention in town," Ashley informed me. "Clean energy or something like that. They'll let out about twenty-one. Do you want an apron, or are you going to manage?"

"I'll manage," I gave her a wink. "Go, have some fun."

Ashley was right, business did pick up about twenty-two hours. I probably would have known about the convention had my world not been turned upside down, twirled around, then set right back up. At zero hour I noticed that there was an unusually high number of A-List singers taking the stage. The first one had sung his own song and actually got booed by the crowd. The follow-up pop music singers sang songs by other singers and were accepted with applause.

This confused me to no end, but I didn't mind as long as my patrons were happy. Those guests also cleared their tables at respectful times, giving the people in line a better chance to enjoy my place.

When we finally closed at half-past four, the girls and guys were ecstatic. Some of them commented that they had gotten enough tips to pay off their respective mortgages, but they were just kidding. When all was said and done, they averaged a thousand dollars apiece. The tips were pooled and spread equally because it was understood that sometimes they covered one anothers' tables during the night. Nobody seemed to mind. I was handed a wad of fives and tens which would be our donation to The Pink Foundation for that day. It was over two thousand dollars.

Wow, spelled with a capital W-O-W.

I joked with Ashley that I should have taken the apron for that night. She gave me a punch in the arm and told me that she would have gladly taken over should I had taken a sick day as well. Then she asked me what had happened to Juanita, and I told her that she had gotten some bad vodka from a prospective vendor and was prepared to kick his ass at her earliest opportunity. Ashley gave me a nod and went to fill out her paperwork for 'the man' who would want his twenty percent share of her tip money.

***

The next morning, a Saturday morning, I made my customary run to the bank to deposit my receipts for the previous night. This was a special bank which catered to restaurateurs and club owners alike, those not wanting to keep a hundred thousand or more dollars of Friday-night cash in their buildings until Monday morning. While night depositories were fine for fast-food restaurants and small store owners, there was also paperwork to be filled out for people who deposited fifty thousand dollars or more in cash.

I saw more than a few of my fellow club owners in the lobby and we exchanged polite nods. While they were technically my competition, we didn't hold any bad blood, It wasn't good business to be antagonistic. Cumulatively, we had separated up to ten million dollars from the pockets of various Los Angelenos and lots of tourists.

One person who I did not expect to see there was Heather Jenkins-Sagemueller. She was the head of Brookstone Pointe, and that company owned many beauty salons, the operative word being 'many.' There was no logical reason for her to be making a large cash deposit here, each of her businesses would be doing that separately, not all together through her. She spotted me and made herself comfortable in the chair to my right. I didn't think her opening lines would be pleasant because she probably knew of my temper tantrum with CJ, but they were. "Hello, Mister Cantrell."

"Hello, Miss Jenkins-Sagemueller."

"Just call me Heather."

"Call me Benjamin, please. Why did you keep his name?" I asked.

"You're leading with that?" Heather chuckled. I nodded. "To tell the truth, I didn't have to keep his name. Declan was a lot of things, and even a wife-beater, but I felt that I had to keep his name, because he gave me so much. Also, his attack of me was magic-motivated and his death magic-enhanced, so I can't hold that against him."

Magic, always magic.

"You said his death was magic-enhanced?"

"At the end, he said that his attack was one of passion, but I managed to escape by means of a method of travel called linear folding. Either gaia had taken revenge on Declan on my behalf, or on the behalf of the trans woman he could find and then killed because he couldn't find me."

Oh, shit. Revenger territory.

"So, why are you here?"

"I was, actually, advised, to be here. I'd like to take you out to eat somewhere, for reasons purely not sexual, to talk to you."

"Why?"

"Because it was suggested to me by Grace Stone."

"Really? Does her mother want to buy me out?" I asked.

"Johan, I've been told you are observant, but you don't have all the information that I do." Heather held her hand to get me to pause. "Jaci Stone is Grace's mother, Siobahn Vanuana is Grace's mom."

"So that's where Grace got that fire-red hair? A color so intense that it seems to be unnatural?"

Heather chuckled. "That she did."

"You were talking about your daughter, Harriet, two nights ago. So Tiara is her mom and you are her mother?" I asked. Heather nodded. "Damn, why didn't I see that?"

"Well, CJ had you pretty distracted, and it wasn't really relevant at the time," Heather shrugged. "Over a lunch, I will have your attention."

"Deal."

Heather did her deposit, and I was next in line. She hooked her arm through mine as we left the bank, a sign that neither of us were interested in being chatted up by the night-club moguls still hanging around the plaza. It was interesting to see them scurry toward their waiting cars as we came out. "Funny, isn't it?" Heather asked.

"It happens," I shrugged.

"Do you trust me with your car?"

"Sure," I pulled out my keys and handed them to her. Heather tossed them, with perfect accuracy, to a woman who had been standing near my car. A woman that I had not seen until Heather had sent my keys into the air. "That's impressive."

"Of course it is," Heather chuckled. I got into her Suburban with her, the front-seat passenger closing my door for me. "My assistants, well, they spoil me. I'd be lost without the women who seem to voluntarily cater to my every whim. Yes, voluntarily."

"As in they want for nothing and can leave at any time with a severance and a monthly stipend," I said.

"Exactly. In fact, fourteen women have left my company, not my company, in such a manner. They do communicate their well-being to me, but that is my only interest in their lives. If they need my help, I give it without question, but that is all."

"Heather, you are being very specific," I said.

"Your absolute dislike of slavery, almost to the point of being a homicidal dislike, was told to us by Carolinia. As a group we want to communicate to you that everyone's participation is free-will and at-will."

"Is it because the women have no better place to go?" I asked.

"No, we don't go pick up homeless or bankrupt women and pay them for their bodies," Heather responded with a steel tone.

"And the others, the homeless of LA?"

"Fewer than you think," Heather replied in a cool tone. "But if you MUST know, our organizations have helped hundreds of people, especially families, get back on the track they were on. Some of the homeless people we try to help just don't want to come back into society. We still help them in various ways, especially keeping the food kitchens stocked and making sure there are clean clothes, blankets, and various other items available for them."

"That's a good cause," I admitted.

"How much did you donate to The Keepers of the Homeless last year?" She asked.

"You tell me."

"We're not that nosy."

"Fifteen thousand dollars," I admitted.

"Fifteen thousand dollars helps a lot of people. I give some myself, but my focus is on the Multi-State Domestic Violence Coalition that manages Sunshineville on my behalf."

"I heard a private party had bought that town. Goddess, that was you!"

"Now you understand, Benjamin," Heather reached out and gave my hand a pat. "Now you understand."

"What about Johan Birch? How many billions does he spend sending rockets into outer space?"

Heather gripped my hand, tight. "Johan's designs are his own. Don't presume to meddle in things that you cannot possibly understand. Do so at your own peril."

What the fuck?

"Stay out of Johan's business," Heather half-ordered. "You need to earn the right to know everything."

"I was under the impression that I was to know everything," I offered.

"Stop pushing for it. You push too hard, Benjamin, you have learned in two days what I have learned in years!"

I was pushy. I had just assumed that everybody would give me information if I demanded it. That was why CJ was halfway around the world, Literally halfway around the world. I had pushed and found out things that I couldn't comprehend about gaia. But I would learn, that was my gift, my power, as Johan had said. "Okay. I apologize."

"Good. You'd better learn how to apologize with your attitude. There are many people who can teach you many things, but you have to learn to tame your attitude."

"You sound like you have dealt with people like me before."

Heather chuckled. "When I took over Declan's companies and merged them with Brookstone Pointe, I had plenty of detractors. Well, I took care of those detractors, and not by killing them. I had to make Executive Decisions, and they were followed. The ones who didn't...they lived to seek alternative employment."

"Again, you are being specific."

"Johan felt that you were averted to assassinations, and that I should explain the rules of Revengers more clearly. They don't kill people on a whim, there is always a reason. They also do what is called aura-hunting, they hunt people that do heinous things and escape The Laws of Man."

"Alexandra killed my wife ten years ago!"

"I don't know why they didn't go after Alexandra Hitler before now, neither does Johan. I don't want you to act without knowing the facts," Heather released my hand. "There are so many things in the world of magic, so many hypocrisies, so many ambiguities, I don't know all the answers. Nobody knows the answers; not Kyle, not Johan, not even gaia. Just remember that not even the goddess herself has all the answers."

"How?"

"Gaia is just a being. Granted that she has power and can give power, but she is not all-powerful and all-knowing. Do you understand?"

'I really don't understand."

"Just roll with it," Heather sighed. "We're here. Are you hungry?"

"Let's eat. See if your chefs are up to snuff, Ms. Jenkins-Sagemueller."

"My chefs are just as loyal as yours, Mister Cantrell," Heather scoffed.

Despite what I thought about lunch with Heather, she made no overtly sexual moves toward me. It was like I was her best friend, and I realized that I liked that. She hit me with the whammy over dessert. "How do you feel about total ownership of 'Find My Voice?'" She asked.

"Huh?"

"Buy them out, the rest of the owners. Have total control of the club, as it were."

"Why ask me this now?"

"They feel that now is a good time. You can do better things without having to seek their approval on every major expenditure. The club will be yours, in every way."

"How much?" I asked.

"Nine million," she replied.

That was one million less of the entirety of my cash reserves, but not my personal investments which totalled almost twenty. "What's the catch?"

"Benjamin, there is no catch."

"Bullshit," I called her out.

"Look. In the last recession you spent two million, seven hundred thousand dollars from your own pocket to fund the base salary of your employees. That wasn't including the tips, of course, but you and the club muddled through until things picked back up. That shows loyalty, Benjamin, that is a quality that stands out."

Her knowing that exact amount told me somebody had been doing some digging on me. That wasn't something that CJ had mentioned, or she would have picked it up when I talked about my employees losing their jobs. "All of them, they paid me back."

"Liar," Heather accused. "You turned that money around and put it into the club to make it more attractive to customers, which made your employees and assistants even more well-paid."

"You caught onto that, yes? Calling my wait staff 'assistants?'"

"It is a brilliant move. It allows your floor staff to make decisions on the fly, without having to consult you on every complaint, and be able to call bullshit on the customers trying to make frivolous claims. I admit to thinking that I could do the same in my restaurants, but I am not going to copy your original idea."

"Thank you."

"Do you want the club? Of course you do," Heather smiled. "The meeting will be at Arthur, Monday at fourteen."

Arthur. It was thrice a person, a place, and an idea. "Monday."

***

The meeting was brief and productive. The five other stakeholders signed over their shares to me, and I signed over my money to them. Grace Stone buttonholed me at the end of the session. "A rather interesting day, right?"

"Yes, it was," I admitted.

"I noticed something, watching you sign those papers."

"What was that?"

"You aren't really doing it for profit. You want to give your employees a chance to prosper should you take your last breath before your time."

"Grace, you are very nosy."

"My fath...mother always said that my brain-to-mouth filter was in desperate need of fixing," Grace admitted.

"Still needs fixing." I chuckled. "I know that your mother is Jaci Stone and your mom is Siobahn Vanuana. Who is your father?"

"Well, I am told by more than one person that you should know everything at a given time, and this seems to be a good time. Jaci Stone is my mother andJohan Birch is my father. Siobahn Stone nee Vanuana is my mom."

"Okay." There was something else coming.

Grace snickered. "It is so complicated, yet so simple. Jaci Stone was trans, she impregnated Siobahn with me, then Jaci died and was reborn as Johan."

Yeah, that's a big WOW.

"I seem to have given you some good information," Grace chuckled. "Would you like to go to bed with me?"

Bonk!

"Huh?

"Would you like to have sex with me?"

Of course.

"Grace, I think that is a very bad idea," I said after recovering from the shock.

"Hmm. Why?"

"Because from any various magician roasting me, or Revenger eating me, or Nora clawing my face off, you are probably younger than any daughter I might have already been a father to."

"Benjamin, I'm over two hundred years old," Grace countered. "I'm not lying to you, and I will tell you how that can be possible, in the morning."

"It's thirteen hours," I scoffed.

"Precisely."

***

I didn't know why, but I invited Grace to dine with me at a restaurant of her choosing. She rode home with me, following me into my condo with a wicked smile on her face. Once the door was closed, we ripped each others' clothes off and I tried fucking her up against it. Her dark brown skin felt like silk under my fingertips, and her fire-red hair was such a joy to tug upon. That encounter only lasted a minute because I was so turned on that I shot my load into her right there in the entryway. Grace pushed away from me, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward my bedroom.

When she tried to push me onto the bed, I turned the tables on her. I used her momentum to dodge her, pouncing upon her a second after her landing. My cock, still miraculously hard after my first ejaculation, found her hot pussy again. Grace was now pinned beneath me, her beautiful green eyes begging me to continue. I withdrew from her, slowly, and with the intention of not giving her any counterbalance to flip me over. I had over ten kilos on her, but I could tell she was a martial artist and could push the slightest advantage if given the chance.

Grace let me have sex, no, make love to her, I could see it on her face. There was a genuine want there, she had surrendered control and would take whatever I deemed fit to give her. I slid into her many times, not bothering to keep count, teasing her by bringing her to the edge of orgasm then stopping. When I had built up the feeling and couldn't hold back any more, I started ramming my cock into her. Grace's orgasm came a minute after mine, groaning and screeching until my cock went soft and I couldn't ram any more. I fell off to her right side, hoping that I hadn't disappointed her.

"You didn't," Grace said a minute later.

"What?"

"Disappoint me. It felt good, having you fuck me."

"That wasn't making love?"

Grace rolled onto her side, reaching over to caress my face so that I would turn to face her. "Benjamin, that wasn't making love. You should know that. If we were to get into a life-long relationship, then we could agree that our sexual intercourse is making love."

She did make sense. "But it was awesome."

"Absolutely," Grace agreed. "Now comes the big question, Benjamin."

"What kind of question?"

"Your seed is inside me. Can I have your baby?"

"Why do you even ask?"

"It is more complicated for supernaturals. I personally want to ask, and if you say 'no' I can simply stop your seed from reaching my egg. I could have your baby without comment, and could raise it without question, but I would feel guilty not telling you about our child. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I do. I hate to ask...But what about CJ? Wouldn't she get upset if we do get together and she finds out that you are carrying my child?"

Grace got a conspiratory look on her face, then proceeded to whisper to me: "Benjamin, if you decide that you want to have a relationship with CJ, which you would be a fucking fool if you didn't, she would want you to have as many children as possible. CJ would even aim women at you, because she would know that you desired that woman."

"No slavery? Free will?"

Grace laughed, it was a wonderful sound. "Benjamin, I promise you, from my soul, that any woman seeking to be in your bed will want to."

"Even with magic?" I prodded.

"The use of magic in a seduction is forbidden," Grace clarified. "There are rules."

"How do you know you weren't using magic?" I asked.

Unexpectedly, Grace scratched herself, a line of blood following her nail. "I temporarily gave up my magic and immortality for the opportunity to seduce you, Benjamin. This was to assure the purity of a possible child."