"It's a shame that boy ended up like that, but I guess given the trauma of his childhood, he didn't have any hope."
"Trauma ? "
"Didn't you know? He was taken away from his parents because his mother was a crack addict and his father a drug dealer. Scott had his skull shattered one afternoon when he interrupted Daddy doing a deal because the poor thing was starving and dared to ask for a sandwich. That's when the state took him away. His dad's been trying to regain custody ever since. We'd just told Scott the day he vanished that his father was coming to take him home the next morning. Guess the poor kid would rather be dead than go back to whatever hell was waiting for him ..."
In that one moment, Simone had learned a valuable life lesson. Judge no one until you know their circumstances. No matter how awful they seemed, sometimes there was a valid reason for their behavior. Granted, some people were just mean and corrupt, but not always.
Many people were just in pain, and by acting out, they were only trying to protect themselves from being hurt more.
It was what she tried to teach her students. Anytime you entered a crime scene, the worst thing you could do for the decedent was to pass judgment on them. It clouded your professionalism and jaded your work. A medical examiner's job was to report without prejudice.
Personal views had no place in a morgue.
It was one thing to tell someone how to live their life and what decisions to make. It was another to be the person who had to do it and live with the consequences. Just because you would do something differently, it didn't mean they would. People rose and fell by their own life choices and experiences. The mistakes were theirs to make.
And as she thought about that, it made her curious over Xypher and his past. Why was he so defensive?
Who had hurt him?
"What are gods' childhoods like?"
Xypher looked up from his tabbouleh to meet a pair of the clearest, most innocent eyes he'd ever seen. "Excuse me?"
She didn't flinch at the causticity in his tone. "I was just wondering. I mean, mine was very typical until my family died. I rode my bike through the neighborhood, made mud pies, had tea parties with my friends and dolls, and fought with my brother over TV shows. What did you do?"
Like he would tell her that? It was none of her damned busuress. "What do you care?"
The friendliness on her face was washed away by a pained expression. "I really hate it when you ask that question . . . I care because you're a person I'm stuck with until we get the bracelets off and I'd like to know something about you. Who knows? There might even be someone in there buried under all that hostility that I can actually like."
His blood boiled to think about what she really wanted. "You won't set my weaknesses that easily, babe. I don't have any."
She gaped at him. "You equate childhood memories with weakness? Dear God, what did they do to you?"
He laughed bitterly at the memories of his past. Memories he tried so hard not to think about. But one of them was clearer than all the others. It was the only time in his life he'd allowed himself to be weak and it was an experience he would never again repeat.
"I was chained to a fence where they beat me down and then cut my heart out while I fought them. Even one-handed, I made my impact on those who killed me. Suffice it to say, I will never be that helpless again."
Simone wanted to weep at the honor he described. At the pain she saw in those clear, bright eyes. "You didn't deserve that."
"No kidding," he said between clenched teeth. "But deserving has nothing to do with anything. Life and death are what they are. They have mercy for no one."
Simone looked over at Jesse who wore the same aching expression she was sure was on her face, Xypher's words hit her hard as she remembered her mother and brother, They didn't deserve what had happened to them, either.
Not wanting to think about it, she didn't try to speak to him as he finished eating. It was just too hard to try and reach someone who obviously didn't want to be reached.
Once he was done, she upped the waitress and headed back toward her condo.
They'd barely left the restaurant when Tate called. "How'd it go with Julian?" he asked.
She glanced down at the bracelet on her arm. "Not really the way I wanted it to. We're still united."
"Man, I'm sorry."
"It could be worse, I suppose. He could be your serial killer."
The look Xypher gave her told her he could hear her conversation.
"Oh, damn, I have to take this call, boo. You guys be careful and I'll check in again later." Tate hung up before she could tell him good-bye.
Closing the phone, she saw Xypher rubbing his arm out of the corner of her eye. Even though he didn't say anything, both of his arms were covered with goose bumps. "You cold?"
He didn't respond.
"He's cold," Jesse said. "It's all over his aura, which I can see, even if you can't."
Xypher sent him a glare that should have set fire to him.
Simone paused as she considered where they could get clothes for him in the Quarter. Most of the places catered to women . . .
Or to goths.
A slow smile curved her lips. Yeah, with his caustic personality and height, goth would look really good on him.
Without a word, she cut down Dumaine to head to Decatur Street.
"What are you doing?" Xypher asked defensively.
"Getting you some clothes."
He pulled her to a stop on the sidewalk. "I don't need anything,"
"Yes you do."
His handsome face turned to stone. "I'm not taking your charity. I don't need anything from anyone."
She raked him with a cold stare. "And I'm not getting stuck for a month with a man who only has one shirt and one pair of pants when I'll be forced to smell you the entire time."
That took some of the fire out of his eyes.
Jesse scowled. "Hey, he's a god. Can't he just make clothes for himself?"
Xypher gave Jesse a quelling glare. "Hades is a bastard as I said earlier. My powers aren't intact. I can use them for defense. But not for food or clothing ... or shelter." The last bit came out so low that she wasn't even sure she'd heard it.
The ashamed expression on his face told her that she hadn't been mistaken.
Why would Hades do that to him?
"C'mon," she said, tugging his hand gently. "You need clothing, especially a coat or jacket."