Sugar Hearts

The final part. This story was something of an emotional rollercoaster for me, but I loved writing it. Big thanks to: everyone who gave me feedback, all my fellow writers whose wonderful stories helped to shape this shared world, and especially Queenie for letting me make such extensive use her character James Kelley.

Sugar Hearts

Chapter Fifteen

Kale stood in the bedroom which had belonged to Marzi, staring out its single window. Beyond the glass, snow drifted through the night, like a host of tiny angels tumbling from heaven. Absently, Kale wondered if this was what the world had looked like when God cast down Lucifer and his allies. He wondered if God had created snow as a memorial to that event -- a reminder that even the best, the brightest, the most pure of things, could still fall.

Shaking his head, Kale attempted to pull himself free from his dark mood. It was late. He had a lot to do tomorrow and he needed to get some sleep. No reason remained for keeping this vigil. By now, the magic would have run its course. Marzi was almost certainly dead, and Sylvia was probably weeping over him, disgracing his memory with her weak, human tears. Disgusting. Kale had no intention of indulging in similar theatrics. Tomorrow, he would go to Inferno. He would find someone else. After all, Marzi was only one human among millions. How hard could it be to replace him?

As if in answer to that question, Kale remembered Marzi lying on the bed beneath him, whispering words of love even as his face contorted with pain. And a strange, deep ache filled Kale – a chasm he had never known existed, until Marzi led him to its edge. If he listened, Kale could hear wind blowing through chasm’s dark depths, like a thousand voices murmuring a thousand words. And each word was the sound of Marzi speaking his name.

“Kale.”

For a moment, Kale remained lost in his thoughts. Then, he felt the muzzle of a gun pressed to the back of his head, and he knew that one of the voices had been real.

“You son-of-a bitch. I should kill you for what you did to my brother.”

Kale hadn’t risen to his current position without having a fair number of weapons pointed in his direction. Unafraid of the gun’s implied threat, he turned around, and found himself facing Marzi. Except that Marzi should be dead. Except that Marzi didn’t have a brother. Except that, during their lessons at the shooting range, Kale knew he’d taught Marzi to keep his fingers clear of the slide when holding a pistol.

“He gave you everything! And you walked out on him. You left him to die.”

“The ritual was irreversible.” Kale studied the hatred burning in his lover’s eyes and searched for some clue to this insanity. Had Marzi managed to master the magic, only to lose his mind? “There was nothing I could have done for you – for him.”

“You could have held him. You could have stroked his face, murmured reassuring lies. You could have cried one goddamn tear.” The anger faded, replaced by sadness, and Marzi tilted his head, causing strands of brown hair to tumble across his face like dead vines. “Even now, part of him still wants to be yours. He hates it, he’s ashamed of it, and he’d kill it if he could. But it’s there. I feel it.”

Somehow, within the fragility of tragedy, Kale glimpsed what he had not been able to recognize when it was concealed by the heat of fury. “Pepper?”

“Yes. Nice ritual, Kale. Apparently you still have a few quirks to work out.”

“And Marzi is--?”

Something subtle shifted inside Marzi’s body. His posture gained a little more swagger, his expression became more familiar, and his hand adjusted its grip on the gun, pulling his fingers clear of the slide. “I’m here, too. But only because I have a sister far better than I deserve.”

Not exactly your sister, Kale thought. Not by blood, at least. But he didn’t speak. He just stared at Marzi, mesmerized by what his magic had created.

Marzi stepped closer, shoving the muzzle of the gun against Kale’s throat. “Pepper was bluffing. Pepper is too good and gentle to kill anyone, even a bastard like you.” The corner of Marzi’s mouth twisted as he flicked off the gun’s safety. “But I’m serious. I’ll really do it.”

Kale didn’t doubt him. He could hear it in Marzi’s voice. And now that he’d driven his lover to brink of bloody vengeance, Kale finally felt the immensity of what he was losing. Finally understood that among all those millions of other humans, he would find no simple replacement. Ignoring the gun, Kale raised his hand, and brushed his fingers against Marzi’s cheek, as if he could wipe away all that had come between them. “I did it for you,” he tried to explain. “I gave you what you wanted.”

“What I wanted?” Jagged laughter burst from Marzi’s lips, like shrapnel from some internal explosion. “You murdered my sister. You told me to drink her blood, to eat a slice of her heart. How could you ever think I wanted that?”

“You said you wanted magic.”

“Not at that price. Never at that price.”

“You said you wanted to serve me. To be mine.”

“Yes,” Marzi conceded. “That much of the blame lies on me. I knew what you were. I knew that it was impossible to love evil without becoming evil. But I loved you anyway, recklessly and blindly. I thought there was nothing you could ask of me that I wouldn’t be glad to do. I thought there was nothing you could take from me that wasn’t mine to give. But I was wrong.”

Marzi reached up, obviously intending to yank Kale’s hand away from his cheek. But as flesh touched flesh, a familiar look of desire flitted across Marzi’s face, and for a moment, he couldn’t quite manage it. For a moment, Marzi twined his fingers around Kale’s, and held on. “Oh, what I would have given you. If you’d asked for anything except Pepper.”

“Marzi, it’s not too late. We could still fix this.”

“No.” Marzi regained control of his emotions, and jerked away from Kale’s caress, before uncurling his fingers from Kale’s hand and letting it fall. “Pepper’s right. Some idiotic part of me does want to crawl back to you and be your bitch again. But that’s not going to happen. Because it’s not just me anymore. I might be happy to suffer for your pleasure, but I swear to god, you will never again touch my sister. Never.”

Shadows ebbed and flowed across Marzi’s face, like a tide slowly pulling him away. And, for the first time in his life, Kale felt the slow poison of despair. “So, what happens now? Are you going to shoot me?”

“A bullet in the head is too quick for you. Payback comes later. Right now, we just came here to get something.”

Keeping his gun trained on Kale, Marzi backed up until he reached the room’s bed. Without looking, he slid his hand over the items scattered on the table beside it, until his fingers touched a silver charm hung on a leather cord. This, he lifted. Holding it up in front of himself, he seemed to ask some inner question, to which he received an equally inner reply. Marzi smiled. Then, he dropped the necklace into his pocket.

“Marzi—“

“Goodbye, Kale.” With his back to the wall, Marzi edged toward the bedroom door. But, just as his hand found the doorknob, he paused. “By the way, the ritual did work. The magic is a part of me now, just as Pepper is, and I will learn to use it.” Bright shapes glittered in Marzi’s eyes, like shards of broken glass. Like shards of broken sanity. And something about Marzi’s expression scared Kale more than the gun Marzi held in his hand.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Marzi continued. “You predicted what would happen if I could use magic. And you were right about most of it. But you got one thing wrong.”

“What?”

Marzi grinned – the sort of grin capable of hanging in the air long after the actual person has departed. “You will fear me, Kale. You will fear us.”

Then, Marzi slipped out into the hallway, and was gone. Left alone in the bedroom that had once belonged to his lover, Kale curled his hands into fists until his fingers ached. And when he could take it no longer, he howled, like a creature deprived of its prey.


Epilogue

Pepper touched the slight bump where her Medal of Saint Michael hung, concealed beneath the tightly buttoned collar of Marzi’s shirt. Its presence gave her some courage, but not yet enough to move forward, to start climbing the stone steps which led up to the police station. Although only two weeks had passed since her previous visit, she felt like it had happened lifetimes ago. She felt like she’d been a different person back then. And she realized, with a slight jolt, that she really had been a different person, in a very literal sense.

Do you want to do this? Or should I handle it?

Marzi’s words came to her, mixed with a flurry of brief images, intimate as caresses. For now, she and her brother remained separate entities. They couldn’t read each other’s thoughts. But communication had become a far more personal thing than simply sound and word.

Maybe it would be better if you did, Pepper answered. Last time, I made a real mess of it.

Okay.

Pepper slipped back, allowing Marzi take control of the body they now shared, like two ghosts haunting the same house. She felt relieved that Marzi had volunteered to take charge of their mission. If she tried, she’d just get all flustered again. And when she saw James...she had no idea what was going to happen when she saw James.

With his usual confidence, Marzi walked up the steps and entered the police station. He seemed to know exactly where to go. And, as he approached the reception desk, Pepper recognized the young man she’d dealt with on her previous visit. A small plastic Christmas tree, decorated by a few chipped ornaments, sat on the desk in front of him, and the sight of it made Pepper’s heart melt. Immediately, she forgave him for mocking her after the “Officer James” incident. She hoped that the hiccup spell she’d cast hadn’t caused him too much embarrassment.

Upon seeing Marzi, the young man raised his eyebrow. “Marzipan Penicandey. Are you what Santa Claus is handing out this year?”

“He ran out of coal,” Marzi answered cheerfully. “Officer Gorman, isn’t it? I never forget a face. Or a phone number.”

Officer Gorman looked horrified. “I never gave you my phone number.”

“Not yet. But I’m a patient man.” Marzi winked, and then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the reception desk. “I was wondering if it would be possible for me to speak with James Kelley?”

Judging by the expression on Officer Gorman’s face, Pepper guessed that he would have arranged a meeting with The Lord Almighty, just to put a safe distance between himself and Marzi. “I-I’ll check,” he promised, reaching for the phone.

“Thank you.” Marzi tilted his head, gazing at Officer Gorman with deep intensity. Then, just as the young man began to dial, Marzi ran the tip of his tongue across his lips.

Unnerved, Officer Gorman slammed the phone back down. “Look, I’m sure he’s not doing anything. Why don’t you just go on in? His office is right over there.”

“Thank you,” Marzi repeated, turning away from the reception desk, and starting off in the indicated direction.

You’re evil, Pepper accused. Although, in truth, she could barely keep her spirit from giggling.

I got us in, didn’t I? Anyway. He deserved it for giving you such a hard time.

Marzi pushed open the door to James’s office, and Pepper tried to brace herself. She could do this. She could find the strength to endure this final goodbye. She owed it to both of them.

James sat at his desk, staring at nothing in particular. Despite the grey skies outside, he hadn’t bothered to turn on the office lights, and shadows stretched across the carpet like patches of ash. Once again, he looked so alone. Regret filled Pepper, and she cursed her cowardice – cursed the words she’d never dared to speak. Maybe if she’d taken a risk, and expressed her feeling for him, maybe it could have made some difference. Maybe they could have shared a perfect afternoon, a single kiss. But now it was too late.

After a moment, James glanced up, and curiosity broke through the sadness in his eyes. Simultaneously, Marzi expressed his own amazement.

Nicely done, little sister. Delicious doesn’t begin to describe him.

Marzi! You’re not helping.

Sorry.

“Marzipan Penicandey? To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

“Two things.” Without waiting to be asked, Marzi made himself comfortable in a chair facing James’s desk. “First of all, Kale. I know you want to take him down. And, believe it or not, I want to help you. We didn’t talk much about his illegal activities. But if there’s anything I can tell you, I’d like to.”

James looked skeptical. “This is a very sudden change of heart.”

“But hearts do change, don’t they?” Marzi shrugged. “Hearts twist, and bend, and break. Hearts make all the difference.”

Despite his flippant tone, Pepper felt the depth of Marzi’s pain. Felt exactly what it had cost him to walk away from Kale. What it was still costing him. Gently, she wrapped her brother in a blanket of warm, reassuring thoughts, and comforted him as best she could.

“Well, I guess it can’t hurt to hear what you have to say,” James conceded. “I’ll put you in touch with the officer in charge of that investigation. What else did you want?”

“Pepper asked me to give you these.” Digging into his coat pocket, Marzi produced a small box of espresso truffles, which handed to James. “To thank you for everything you did for her. And to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye? How did she--?”

For once, Marzi’s innate confidence seemed to fail him, and he couldn’t meet James’s gaze. Pepper felt her brother’s guilt batter her like storm waves. And she knew that, as long as they both lived, Marzi would never forgive himself for what had happened to her. Never.

“Pepper decided to go away. Indefinitely. I’ll be running Sugar Hearts until she gets back.” Marzi paused. Then with a surge of willpower, he forced himself to look directly at James. “She really liked you. Whenever she spoke about you, it was always with a great deal of affection.”

James turned the box of chocolates over in his hands, his expression unreadable. “Your sister is a remarkable woman.”

“Yes,” Marzi answered, with simple honesty. “Yes, she is.”

After that, neither man spoke, each lost in his own thoughts. Absently, Pepper noticed a pile of folders stacked on the desk beside James, and she remembered her last visit. Remembered the folder which had contained the dead boy’s picture. And once again, she wondered what Kale had done with her body – wondered how long it would be before one of those folders held a picture of her. She knew James would blame himself for her death, and she hated the thought of causing him that much pain. She had to tell him. She had to make him understand.

Marzi? May I?

Of course.

Marzi allowed her to assume control of their body, but even then, it took a moment before Pepper could make herself act. Finally, however, she gathered her resolve, and stood. “James,” she began, forgetting to refer to him in more formal terms. Forgetting to talk about herself in third person. “I want you to know that I’m alright. Whatever happens, whatever the evidence may seem to indicate, I’m safe. I’m happy.”

James gawked at her with mute bewilderment. Yet, beneath that, Pepper thought she saw flickers of recognition – thought she saw the policeman in him, taking note of familiar mannerisms and speech patterns, before arriving at a bizarre conclusion. And suddenly, Pepper found her courage. Too desperate to be afraid, she leaned across the desk, and pressed her lips against his. Savored the taste of him, knowing that she would always carry it with her. Perhaps, one day, she would even manage to translate it into chocolate, so that from time to time she could let it melt on her tongue, and return to this moment again.

“Have faith,” she pleaded. “And remember me.”

Then, before James could recover from the shock of being kissed by Marzipan Penicandey, Pepper turned and ran.

She ran out of his office, through the police station, and down the stone steps. She ran along the sidewalk, sending flecks of dirty slush flying into the air each time her boots struck the cement. She ran until her eyes were so filled with tears she could no longer see where she was going. Then, exhausted, she slumped back against the wall of an abandoned building, and buried her face in her hands.

Pepper. Oh, Pepper. I’m so sorry.

It’s alright. I just – I really did like him, Marzi. I really did.

I know. Gently, Marzi soothed her with tender memories. Reminded her of trip taken long ago. They had been children, riding in the backseat of their parent’s car, on the way home from a visit to some forgotten place. And it had started to rain. It rained so hard, it seemed like they were driving underwater. The headlights on the other cars swam past like strange glowing fish. But instead of being afraid, they leaned against each other, watching the storm with innocent faith. They were together. As long as they were together, they knew it would be alright.

Slowly, Pepper grew calm. She had lost James. But she was not alone. She would never be alone.

Let’s walk for a little. We’re near downtown, so we can look at the Christmas decorations.

Sure.

After retracing their steps for a few blocks, they returned to Chicago’s main shopping district, and Pepper grinned when she saw this year’s theme. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Each of the major department stores had erected dioramas which continued the famous story. In one window, a candy boat seemed to race along a river of melted chocolate, while in another, hundreds of specially trained squirrels were shoving Veruca Salt down the garbage chute. Then, finally, the last window revealed the glass elevator bursting through the factory roof, and soaring off into the unknown. The unknown, Pepper reflected, was something she had always feared. But here she was, right smack in the middle of it. And it wasn’t so bad. Not really.

Hey, I just remembered something. Today is Christmas.

I think you’re right.

Pepper glanced up at the barren sky. It doesn’t seem right for Christmas to come without any snow.

Well, we could always do something about that. Like when we were kids.

For a moment, Pepper hesitated. It was a reckless, frivolous use of magic – but then again, maybe it was time for her to be a bit reckless. After all, staying within the narrow confines of rules and recipes hadn’t kept her safe. Maybe it was time for a little improvisation. Time to really live. Alright, she agreed, taking a packet of sugar from the pocket of Marzi’s coat. You know how the song goes.

I do indeed.

As Marzi began to hum Tchaikovsky’s “Dance of the Snowflakes”, Pepper moved her fingers over the sugar packet, chanting under her breath. Then she ripped it open, and tossed the white crystals into the air. Fueled by her magic, they flew upward like a flock of tiny birds, until they pierced the heavy grey clouds hanging overhead. Joy filled Pepper when she watched them rise. She felt as if some part of her had also been set free. Not caring how crazy she looked, she added her voice to Marzi’s, until the clouds sparked and trembled, agitated from within.

Louder! Louder!

So they sang louder, battering the sky with their voices, until it could no longer withstand their assault. The clouds tore open, spilling their bounty on the waiting city. Spilling soft, white snow over a brother and sister who were, for a single moment, children again.

The End