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  "You look like hell, Addy."

  "You look, well, like you could kick my butt."

  She put her hands on her hips. "So you're one of those guys who likes your women passive and in sun dresses?"

  "No, no. You look great. Really."

  She smiled. "Remember I told you my band had a gig at The Hole? Well, grab a jacket and let's go."

  Since the wreck, women didn't show much interest. He could get a date for dinner, maybe a drink, but he couldn't move past a kiss to getting laid. He assumed his cane scared them away. Nikki accused him of always looking slightly pissed off.

  "Why would any woman want to make love to an angry guy holding a stick?"

  Good point. Of course he denied the truth of her words, but in private, he had seen his self-loathing anger in the mirror. He knew he should be happy this woman wanted him around, but experience already left him feeling defeated. Besides, I need to start training, to find out about the pen, the League, Kairos.

  "I don't know, Jules. I'm really pretty out of it."

  "Perfect. I've been told you've got to be out of it to get our music." Tossing his jacket to him, she dragged him out the door before he could protest. At first Jules had trouble walking at his slow pace. Addison noticed people, mostly guys looking at them, checking out the badass version of Serena Williams walking at his side.

  Matching her pace to his, she told him about living in the Houston suburbs as a child before moving to San Diego.

  "Why'd you move west? Your mom want you to be a child star?"

  "We had a death in the family. My parents divorced and Mom moved us out to San Diego."

  He hadn't meant to unearth dark memories, given he had his own personal supply of darkness. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to pry."

  She offered a sad smile. "No problem. It was my brother who died. Hit by a car. I was too young to remember him, but it sure blew my family apart. For a while my father hung in there with visits on alternate holidays, but he pretty much disappeared by the time I hit high school. Haven't seen him in years."

  "That had to be difficult. My mom died when I was ten. It's not quite the same, but I do know what it's like not to have one of your parents around."

  "Yeah, sorry about your mom." She glanced at his knee. "Is that how you hurt your leg?"

  "No. This is from a car accident a couple of years ago. My mom was killed…murdered."

  "Shit."

  They walked in awkward silence for a block, then Addison shifted the topic. "What brings you to Seattle?"

  "To follow my dream. I want to be a professional musician."

  "Good for you."

  "Thanks. I'd like to say I'm doing it all on my own, but I have to admit I did get a little shove from my mom."

  "That's cool. In this economy it’s hard to get started on your own."

  "No, that's weird. She's a professional sailor competing in regattas, that sort of thing. You'd think, given her life is all about instability and constant travel, that she'd get being a musician. But a music career is not on her list of approved life paths."

  "I thought you said she supported the idea?"

  A puzzled look crossed her face. "That's the odd thing. All of a sudden she did a one-eighty. Hooked me up with Nikki, who got me a gig at the record store and a room above. So here I am, playing my music."

  He felt happy for her, but pain for himself. If Addison had a dream for his future, he couldn't remember it. Their eyes met. "How do you do it, Jules? Work, a band? I can barely keep toxic science experiments from growing in my refrigerator."

  "Well, Addy." She cocked her head slightly. "I'm the most interesting woman you're ever going to meet." She jumped off the curb, crossing the street.

  Addison took a careful step down, easing his other leg along with his cane. Studying the sway of her hips as she walked away, the soft curve of her rear end doing that swishing thing women do, he realized he could use some 'interesting' in his life.

  ***

  The Hole consisted of a dilapidated storefront with windows painted black and a red door with a peep hole and the words "The Hole" painted in gold above. With a wink and a hug, Jules slipped Addison past a bouncer, who looked like a steroid-swollen professional wrestler. They walked into a dark room to a back table, while a slightly out of tune band played heavy metal covers. When the band finished, Jules and her bandmates took the stage. Jules, an afropunk goddess, crushed her set, imploring the crowd in a low, sultry voice.

  Oh yeah baby I'm a burnin'

  My insides they are a churnin'

  I'm getting quite an education

  And it's all about you

  Gyrating, her luminescent mohawk reflecting the stage lights, Jules left bits of her torn soul on stage, bringing the audience to their feet.

  You gonna get a reaction

  Babe I'm gonna put you in traction

  Oh yeah, my goal is satisfaction

  And I'm talkin' 'bout me

  With each gravelly stanza, Addison committed to do whatever it took to get this woman's attention.

  After the set, Jules cut through the crowd, making her way back to Addison's table. Leather jacket over one shoulder, strategic holes in her shirt revealed enough of her glistening skin for Addison's imagination to run wild. He stared, not breathing.

  "You were fantastic. Great show."

  "Thanks." She leaned in, giving him a quick kiss on his cheek, her lips hot and wet.

  Addison offered to walk Jules back to her place and she agreed. They strolled along Ballard Avenue, the night air cool, music blaring from clubs.

  "You're something, Jules. Really."

  "You think so? I'm not quite jetting around the world performing in arenas yet, but I'll get there. How about you? What are your dreams?"

  "After everything that's gone down in the last few years, I don't know. I'm not sure if I have a dream anymore." Kairos' bloody hand rushed into his mind. "At least a dream I'd actually want to live."

  She grabbed his hand. "Hmmm. I might have just the thing to kick start your dream engine."

  He followed her into RPM, his pulse racing with expectation. She took him to a bin of records. Under "J," she pulled out an album with Janice Joplin wearing a red jacket and sunglasses, astride a Harley. Janice Joplin's Greatest Hits.

  He knew the name, recalling his father saying something about the 60's and Woodstock. "You want me to listen to a golden oldie?"

  "Oldie, but goody. I've got a great song for you."

  She slipped the black vinyl disc from its sleeve, carefully handling it by the edges until the disc, centered on the spindle of a Thorens turntable, rested on the platter. Flipping a switch on the amp and another on the turntable, the disc spun, the needle scratching as it made contact with the cut. A strong drum downbeat, a piano, Wurlitzer organ, and electric guitar kicked into a groove, as Janice's raspy vocal called out to Get It While You Can.

  Jules moved to the beat. "I love this song."

  Addison lost himself in Joplin's words, the power of her music.

  When you're loving somebody, baby,

  You're taking a gamble against some sorrow.

  But who knows, baby,

  'Cause we may not be here tomorrow.

  And if anybody comes along,

  He gonna give you love and affection,

  I'd say get it while you can, yeah!

  "Addy?"

  He opened his eyes. He didn't know they were closed.

  The music stopped. A car whooshed by on the street. He scanned the room, regaining his bearings. "So you like Janice Joplin?"

  She picked up the album, slipping it back into its cover. "Absolutely. Get It While You Can says a lot about living."

  "Yeah. I hear that. My dad always used to say you can muck around in the past and worry about the future, but life happens in the present."

  "Maybe you need to spend more time in the present yourself."

  He didn't have a comeback. She was right. "Yeah, maybe."

  She raise
d her eyebrows.

  "Okay, you have a point." Addison took a step toward her, anxious to get close to this intriguing, beautiful woman. "Maybe we should take Janice's advice."

  "Should we now?" She put a hand on his chest. Her touch, an electric pulse through his body. "It's been a long day, Addison."

  He'd seen the look before, and this time he hadn't even gotten a kiss. It's the damned cane. "Yeah, long day. I completely understand." He backed away.

  "Wait, Addy."

  "I get it. I'm a good guy, but…" He turned away. "Look, we had a nice evening. Let's just leave it at that."

  "Where are you going?"

  Addison hobbled toward the door. "Goodnight, Jules." He turned, offering a forced smile. "I had a great time. Thanks."

  "Addison, you don't understand."

  He turned back to her. "I understand. I thought you had your shit together, but you've shown me who you really are."

  Jules crossed her arms, anger rising in her voice. "Who I really am? I don't want to fuck you, because let's see, I hardly know you, so I'm the bad guy? You know, I did this for Nikki, but I was actually beginning to like you. Thank God I found out what an asshole you really are."

  "Don't lie to me. You and I both know you'd be jumping me if I didn't have this damned cane."

  "Oh, yeah. You're like every woman's fantasy."

  "I didn't say that. It's the cane."

  "The cane? You think this is about your fucking cane? God, you're either a moron or you're seriously damaged. Either way, I need you to leave."

  "Fine by me."

  "Now."

  Addison slammed the door behind him, pissed at Jules for pushing him away, at his cane for reminding him every goddamn second that he killed Beth, and at himself for torpedoing yet another relationship with a woman without giving it a chance. Idiot. He didn't go straight home, but limped along uneven sidewalks lost in his thoughts. God, I made an ass of myself.

  An hour into his late-night crawl of 'woe is me', Nikki sent him the promised text for a meet up location. He figured she had used "training" as a stall tactic to get out of his house, so the text came as a bit of a surprise.

  PIONEER SQUARE, MAP IN BOX

  He checked the time: 12:45 am. Pioneer Square was the oldest part of downtown Seattle. She wants me to go all the way downtown this time of night? He wanted to get on with the training, but fighting off a maniac in a B-17, electrocution in his bathtub, and being put off by Jules left him exhausted. All I want to do is sleep. The 'box' referred to a special app Nikki had created for him last year. She was playing around with encrypting files and wanted Addison to be her guinea pig. The encryption took under a minute to run. The file showed a map of Pioneer Square and a building schematic. Words scrolled across the top.

  This message will self-destruct in ten seconds. Commit to memory NOW!

  What? In spite of a desire for his Mission Impossible wannabe friend to leave him the hell alone, Addison quickly memorized the location. A back-alley doorway into a building, right to a bathroom, through a three-by-three-foot ventilation grate into a passageway leading to another room. Simple enough.

  True to its promise, the document pixilated into a fuzzy gray dissolving to black on his cell phone screen. If he ignored her, the Nikki he knew over the last few years would be pissy tomorrow and give him grief for days. The new "combat" Nikki, who tossed him like a bag of peanuts at a ball game, might storm the house tonight and drag his ass right out the door. Having already been shut down by one girl and assaulted by another, Addison decided it was in his best interest to keep Nikki happy. He made his way to the nearest bus stop, and took the ride downtown.

  A few people roamed the sidewalks of Pioneer Square. The old brick buildings took Addison back to a Seattle of simple, stout structures, lacking the sleek steel and glass of the modern city's towering offices and condos. A mound of sleeping bag and shabby blanket lay near the entry to the alley, moving with the slow rhythm of someone sleeping on the street. The narrow passage, slick with rain, smelled of urine and rotting food. Something moved in the darkness ahead. A rat, maybe a cat. He couldn't tell and didn't want to know. Buildings towered on either side, the alley dead-ending another fifty feet in front of him. The dampness, odd muffled thuds, the stink, raised a paranoia prickling on his neck, the sensation of some threat lurking behind him in the shadows. He wheeled around, wanting to run, but the way out seemed very far away. Too far with a bum leg. Desperate to get somewhere, anywhere else, he searched for the door from Nikki's message.

  A battered blue steel door, about midway down the alley and slightly below ground, caught his attention. Limping over, he had to step into a well with a storm drain grating. The door looked as old as the brickwork, the many layers of paint applied over the decades revealed in the dents and scratches on its surface. He turned the knob, surprised to find it unlocked. Who wouldn't lock a door around here? The heavy door creaked open. Addison looked around, making sure he was alone, then stepped into the inky blackness. He groped around for a light switch. Finding none, he pulled out his phone, its light illuminating the space.

  He stood in a dingy brown hallway. Crooked silver letters on a door to his left spelled out 'RESTR OM'. He knocked on the door out of habit. Who would be in a darkened bathroom of an abandoned building? Unless, of course… Addison, no one's here. He opened the door, hinges creaking with an eerie moan. Flipping a light switch on the wall, subdued yellowish light glowed from a single wall sconce. Addison knelt under a white enamel pedestal sink, finding a gray metal ventilation grating exactly where Nikki's schematic said it would be. Fishing a coin out of his pocket, he slipped the edge into a slot of the latch, which opened without resistance. He peered into the three-by-three-foot crawl space, groaning at the thought of dragging his bad leg behind him through the confined tunnel.

  He crammed himself in and edged along using his elbows. After five or six feet, his fingers found an edge and cooler, moist air flowed past him. He shone his phone's light through the opening down a hallway with its floor three feet below, running perpendicular to him. Addison couldn't turn around in the tight space so he came out head first. Using his hands to pull the rest of his body, he crumpled onto a cold, rough, concrete surface. Nikki, this better be worth it.

  He rose to his feet. Distant muffled voices punctuated the silence. Voices plural. Who the hell…? He took his familiar baseball bat grip on the business end of his cane, ready to cave in the head of anyone stupid enough to mess with him. As he moved down the dark passageway toward a heavy wooden door, his heart pounded. Going up against some thug with only his cane wasn't the smartest play he could make. But after the way this day had gone, he didn't give a damn. He counted to three, and shouldered the door open, cane raised to strike.

  Die Back

  "What the hell was that?" Jules paced anxiously, her arms flailing, spittle flying from her lips. "Are you kidding me, a damn lion? Do you have any idea what it feels like to be eaten by a fucking lion?"

  Nikki stood in the League’s headquarters, a space hidden under the streets of Pioneer Square. Since Thomas’ death, she had taken leadership of the League, a job she would readily give back to him. I miss you so much, mon cœur.

  Jules had come prior to midnight, as planned. Nikki didn’t know her very well yet, but something in Jules’ eyes spoke volumes about an evening gone wrong. Maybe the band sucked or Addison acted like an ass. Hopefully it’s the former. I need these two to work together. In hindsight, she probably should have told Jules about Addison, but she had hoped they’d become friends first, then inking partners. Addison would be joining them soon—at least his text said he would, but she had already begun Jules’ training. Nikki figured a lion would get the girl’s mind off whatever ailed her. Besides, she wanted Jules to have at least one inking experience so she could start her new team off on the same foot. Hands on hips, she failed to hide an amused smirk. “Technically, you weren't eaten. Your host is another matter."

  Jules pounced on
her, shoving her in rhythm with her words. "What kind of airhead (shove) jumps into a lion den (shove) at a zoo (shove)?"

  Each push moved Nikki closer to the wall. She grabbed a small upholstered chair, holding it out like a lion tamer keeping the pride at bay, letting Jules rant.

  “If you’re going to ink, you’ve got to learn how to die."

  Jules clenched her fists. "I'll give you an inking, you sadomasochistic bitch!" She swung at Nikki, but couldn't reach her face with the chair between them.

  "Calm down, Jules."

  "Calm down?" She paused, breathing hard, poised to strike.

  “Think about it. Why ink into a guy eaten by a lion?"

  "I have no freakin' idea, Lizzie Borden. Why?"

  "Because he didn’t significantly impact the continuum and he died right after you inked him, which, of course, means you have less time to screw up the temporal flow."

  Jules resumed pacing with an energy Nikki knew was driven by haunting after-images of the inking. The girl’s mother had warned her Jules would be a handful. Why do these Inkers always leave it up to me to share their little secret of the League?

  "You think dumping me into an idiot just before he gets torn apart by a lion qualifies as training?"

  "Of course. I wanted you to get a feel for the sensation of inking, as well as the die back."

  "Die back?"

  “Yes, that's how you exit an inking."

  The entry door slammed open with a bang, Addison lurching inside, his cane wielded like a club. Jules turned to the noise. Nikki, still holding the chair to fend off her irate trainee, beamed a smile at him.

  “Addison, about time."

  Halogen ceiling lamps cast the room in crisp, white light. From the rust red stained concrete floor to the built-in teak cabinets, stainless steel appliances, teak dining table, and leather-bound chairs, the twenty-by-twenty space looked like the break room of a high-tech company, only without the motivational posters.

  He glanced at Nikki, then Jules, and back to Nikki. “I got your message. What the hell's going on?"

  Nikki put her chair on the floor. “Mon cheri, you mind setting the cane of death down? You might put an eye out."