Half-Resurrection Blues by Older Daniel José

Author:Older, Daniel José [Older, Daniel José]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Urban, Contemporary, Dark Fantasy, Fiction, Dark, Fantasy, Supernaturals, UF
ISBN: 0425275981
Publisher: Roc
Published: 2015-01-06T08:00:00+00:00

* * *

Someone’s in my apartment. The atmosphere is all off, tainted with whatever vague vibrations the intruder let linger. I unsheathe my blade and creep forward, letting each foot settle gently on the floor, edging ahead inches at a time. The bathroom is clear. No one’s in the living room. I put my cane ever so silently against the bedroom door and push.

Sasha stands there, looking about as distraught as I must’ve yesterday. There’s no tear traces, just an overwhelming solemnness about her: slumped shoulders, face tightened, body tense like at any given moment she’ll either pounce or shatter. We regard each other silently. My face tells her face I can see something’s horribly wrong; she nods.

“Make yourself at home,” I say quietly, opening the door for her to come out into the living room.

She semi-smiles. “I didn’t touch anything. Didn’t look at anything. I just needed to be somewhere. Besides my place.” She walks past me, and I’m briefly put out of service by the rush of her scent and all the memories of last night that it carries.

“Nice place.” She’s looking around, and I’m suddenly self-conscious. It’s not a mess, just oddly put together. There’s a lot of exposed pipes and random furniture, the product of living in a somewhat renovated warehouse and shopping on a whim. Mostly though, there are books. It’s like a mini version of Mama Esther’s; bookcases line almost every wall, and the books themselves seem to topple out of them and gather in unruly clusters around the apartment. A wan smile passes briefly across her face as she takes in the view, and then it’s gone.

“You want to talk about it?”

“Yes. No.” She sighs. “Yes, I do actually.”

“I don’t have any tea. But I do have beer.”

She smiles again, the sadness momentarily retreating from her eyes before crowding back in. “Such a dude. A beer would hit the spot, actually.”

I pop the tops of two bottles and put one in front of her. “It’s my brother,” Sasha says, straining for evenness. “I’m pretty sure he’s dead.” She sighs. “All the way dead, that is.”

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