243. [REFRAIN] Bolero

  “Like I alway say, mijo. Blood is thicker than water.”

  Zacarias Borges-Juventus, a newly promoted Core Disciple of the Aracnido Sect and the one trueborn child of Matriarch Alauda Juventus-Maracas, let Mama’s words wash over him like, well, water. In through one ear and out the other. Between said ears, his currently flat-browed eyes stared out from a pair of sunglasses and into the glare of the esplanade sun.

  “Mijo? Did you hear me? Are you still there?”

  “Yes, Mama, I’m here. And I heard you loud and clear the first ten thousand times.”

  “Don’t give me that lip. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you bothered to come home once in a while. Speaking of, what are you mixed up in, anyway? I don’t recall any jobs that would keep you away for—dios mio, what is that racket?”

  The retake was on, and the music had started up again. Zacarias was momentarily distracted as brightly dressed dancers filed in to resume their marks. But he was a professional too; he could focus on two things at once. With that in mind, he let out a performative sigh.

  “It’s a bolero number, Mama. Tasteful guitars, romantic dancing, and hardly a racket. As for what I’m mixed up in”—emphasis his and sarcastic—“it’s this. Security detail for a commercial shoot. Just a precautionary thing, since they’re filming at the esplanade next to the casino. Vespie territory, you know.”

  Had he given too long-winded an answer? Come across as defensive? For a fraught few seconds, Mama said nothing. When she came back on the line, it was with an all-too-familiar note of ‘my son would never’.

  “One of my Core Disciples working a commercial shoot? Who put you up to this? It wasn’t El Viejo, was it? I swear, if he wasn’t senile before the stroke—”

  “El Viejo had nothing to do with it, Mama. I did. I put me up to this. And I’ll come home for a merienda today just as soon as I’m—”

  Zacarias trailed off, again distracted by something that was happening on set. He’d thought he could multi-task, but one of the dancers and her wandering eyes were really testing his resolve. Deliberately. It was all he could do to keep a vapid smile out of the half of his face that wasn’t hidden by sunglasses.

  “… It’s her, isn’t it?”

  Ah shit, here we go.

  “What’s that, Mama?”

  “It’s that C-list hussy you once babysat for some gig or another. Don’t think I haven’t heard the rumors, mijo. Nothing happens in this city without tripping my web. What I didn’t realize is that it’s still happening. I thought we talked about this?”

  “Please don’t call her a hussy”—emphasis his and just barely passable as ‘calm’—“and I don’t know or care about any lists. What I do know is Diana is busting her ass out there doing what she loves. Not that it’s any of your—”

  “Everything in SFERA is my business. That goes double for my son and the girls he’s seen around town with. On Sect time, no less. You’d better come home for that merienda, mister, and when you do, you and I are gonna have a—”

  “Gotta go, Mama. Talk later.”

  Zacarias hung up and switched his terminal to [Do Not Disturb]. It seemed he’d severely overestimated his ability to multi-task. To be fair to himself, the two most important women in his life had both done their darnedest to make things difficult.

  For the next several hours, he focused solely on the security job. Which, to be fair to Mama, really was far beneath his ability and station as Core Disciple.

  A handful of Vespaio men (low-level thugs in shirts and cargo pants, not even trusted to rock their trademark suit-and-tie) did come sniffing around at one point. They fled just as soon as they caught sight of Zacarias giving them a mock-friendly wave. (His red-on-black robe, modified though it was to be sleeveless, was unmistakable as Aracnido drip.)

  If anything, the hardest thing was to stop himself from ogling Diana the entire time. He’d only taken the job because of her, but it was the production company that paid out the contract. So, he was duty-bound to divide his attention between all the clients on set.

  Like the PA who’d bring Diana her water bottle between takes. Like the older guitarist who kept cracking jokes to make the dancers—including Diana—shake with stifled laughter. And especially like the actor paired with Diana whose hand on her back seemed to Zacarias a touch lower than what the choreography strictly required.

  Someone definitely overtuned bro’s social AI. Also, did they really have to make an NPC look so much like me?

  The shoot ended after several excruciating hours. While the crew busied about dismantling the set, their Aracnido muscle made himself scarce to take a short walk down the esplanade. The early afternoon sun shone a little too zealously for Zacarias’s liking, but the riverside breeze did him a world of good, soothing both skin and nerves.

  Across the river loomed the jagged skyscrapers of downtown SFERA. Further beyond that rose Sierra Ascenso and the Ninefold Fortress home to every Aracnido disciple and Elder. Zacarias tried not to look, but the image was burned into his brain even if it didn’t flit in and out of his peripheries.

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  “Not trying to ghost me again, are you?”

  Zacarias turned, training every part of his vision—peripheral or otherwise—onto the young woman who now gazed up at him.

  Diana Formosas-Cervantes had yet to change out of the sunflower dress she’d worn for the commercial. It might’ve looked tacky, were it not for the infectious joy that radiated from Diana’s whole person. Dios mio, that smile could make a paper bag look like a wedding gown.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it, Dimples,” Zacarias answered with a crooked smile of his own. “Just thought I’d give you room to talk shop with that co-star of yours, that’s all.”

  One of Diana’s dimples disappeared behind a mock pout.

  “Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Mr Ghost. Or is this the same game you play with all your other girls?”

  I sure wouldn’t mind meeting these ‘girls’ both you and Mama are convinced I’m running around with.

  “I’d be a fool to try any games with you. You’re a lady about town, and I’m just one of the brutes holed up in the mountains.”

  “Would this brute like a little lesson in grace?”

  Without waiting for an answer, Diana grabbed one of Zacarias’s hands and guided the other onto the small of her back—perhaps a touch lower than what the choreography strictly required. She then slipped her free hand onto his shoulder and began to hum the bolero piece from earlier. No guitars, and the dancing was butchered by a mountain brute besides, but the number still managed to be plenty tasteful and romantic.

  “Would the brute like to take the lady around town later?” Diana took advantage of a break in her own humming. “I’m free the rest of the day.”

  “He would.” Zacarias failed to fully hide the raw chagrin in his voice. “But he can’t. Just for today, he’s got prior engagements with his fellow mountain people.”

  “Well then, guess he’d better make the most of this.”

  Diana resumed her humming, but not before leaning closer. Her auburn hair wafted with a summer scent, just as her breath warmed and tickled Zacarias’s chest. His heartbeat quickened in response.

  “People are staring, Dimples.” No wonder there are rumors about us; Mama don’t need no web to keep tabs on this. “Some of them are even snickering. Including your co-workers.”

  “Let them. I don’t care if you don’t.”

  Zacarias had to think for a second. About whether he cared or not. After a second, he gripped the small of Diana’s back and pulled her closer.

  The bolero piece was nearly at an end. The brute’s progress in the ‘grace’ front left much to be desired, but no matter. His lady was a patient partner, and there’d be plenty of opportunities yet for practice.

  “So, you’ve been summoned to the secret lair today.”

  Diana had stopped her humming. She continued to hold Zacarias close, now simply swaying in time with the afternoon breeze.

  “Do you have to call it that? It’s not a lair, and it’s certainly not secret. The thing’s standing over the whole city for gods’ sake!”

  “Feels plenty secret to the rest of us”—emphasis hers and tinged with a touch of melancholy beneath the joyful surface—“and besides, it doesn’t matter what we call it. You have to hole up in your mountains, and we have to reschedule our date.”

  “It’ll only be for a few days,” Zacarias promised, though not with as much conviction as he would’ve liked. “Just gotta smooth things over with some people. I’ll call you just as soon as everything’s sorted.”

  “Have you given it any more thought?”

  “Hm?”

  “About making our next date an ‘outside’ one?”

  Zacarias froze. After a moment or two of futile swaying, Diana too stopped. She looked up with an extra-dimply smile. One meant to mask the uncertainties beneath the surface.

  “It’s really not a big deal,” she coaxed in a slightly hushed tone, no longer in sync with her partner. “I know my way around. I’m sure I can find us a spot that would meet your lofty standards. I promise.”

  “Dimples, that’s not what I—”

  “Besides…” Diana let go of Zacarias’s shoulder to grab his hand with both of hers. Her grip was tight and just a little clammy. “We’ll have this. This can be real. Don’t you want that, Zacarias?”

  Zacarias did. He wanted it very much. And yet, the more he wanted it, the further he drew away. He couldn’t explain it. Couldn’t even come up with his usual quips to deflect it. Yet it happened without fail.

  Whenever Diana—the love of his life; the woman he would die for without a second thought—asked him to go outside with her, he froze like a fly caught in a spider web.

  After a second or two of heavy silence, Diana let go of Zacarias’s hand. Reluctantly. Mercifully.

  “It’s okay.” She looked up with another smile, all too cheerful. “I understand. I think? You’re my guardian ghost. And that’s… all I can ask for.”

  “Diana, I—”

  I what? Zacarias didn’t know. Couldn’t finish his own thought, almost as if the thought didn’t belong to him at all.

  Diana came to his rescue again, this time planting a light kiss on his cheek before turning around. The skirt of her sunflower dress spun in a flat circle, as it might during an upbeat salsa number.

  “See you around, Mr Ghost. Don’t be a stranger.”

  Diana didn’t wait for a reply as she skipped back up the esplanade. The gawking eyes had long dissipated, perhaps having lost interest as soon as one partner fell out of step with the other.

  After a beat, Zacarias turned to walk in the opposite direction. Down the esplanade. Jagged skyscrapers to one side, the Aracnido Sect’s secret lair looming beyond them. He pulled up his terminal menu to lift the [Do Not Disturb]. The tray showed two missed calls. He didn’t bother to check from whom.

  Zacarias walked down the esplanade alone, toward the footbridge that connected downtown to the rest of SFERA. The sun shone too zealously for his liking, uncomfortably warm against his red-on-black robe. The riverside breeze brushed past his chest, leaving an empty chill where Diana’s smile had been a moment ago.

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