Terror on Rodeo Drive

At 8pm on Rodeo Drive in Los Angeles, 2020, the power went out. Girls in sparkly masks and thousand dollar handbags screamed while workers sighed in frustration, counting the extra minutes they'd have to stick around. A few minutes later, the lights came on. Then, they went out again. The street was plunged into darkness over and over as elbows hit noses and curses were spat at the wrong targets. Someone was playing a game. If anyone had looked up, they would have seen who.

He stood on the roof of a Gucci store, hands in his pockets. He was unmasked. He was not human. He was smiling. When the fun diminished, he let the power return to normal, watching as the jittery street calmed. Then, he leapt off the roof, coat billowing behind him, landing in a crouched position several blocks away. His grin widened. He had never flown that far before. Then, he was summoned.

He appeared suddenly in what looked like a hospital waiting room. The TV's had bars, the people had dark circles under their eyes. Several were crying silently, their masks wet with tears. He strode up to the desk in the center of the room and knocked on the panel. It slid open roughly, revealing a frazzled woman in worn-out scrubs.

"Around the corner. Take two left turns. One right turn. Down the stairs. Another right turn. Another left turn." The panel slammed shut.

*Always so rude,* he muttered to himself. The panel opened again, just wide enough for the woman to flip him off.

"You look lovely today," he called over his shoulder as he rounded the corner.

He followed the instructions until he reached a beige door, identical to hundreds of ones he'd passed. He knocked loudly.

"Come in!" The voice was cheerful.

He pushed open the door and entered a legal briefing room. Papers and ipads were strewn everywhere, cold coffees sat abandoned in every corner. There was one occupant. At the head of the long, oval table, sat an elegant woman in her mid-fifties. Her hair shone, her dress had been tailored by an expert, her lips were painted bright purple. As he stood in the doorway, she gazed at him almost maternally.

"Sit down, my dear."

He obeyed, choosing a seat directly across from her. "Hello Ma'am. Long time no see."

"I assume that is some sort of joke." Her eyes were genuinely curious.

He rolled his. "Seriously? Billions of years old and you still haven't mastered humor."

She harrumphed. "I'm watching Frasier. The jokes come from the opposite personalities of a father and son forced to live together. It's quite sad, though. The father was shot."

"Sadness is my job, not yours," He paused. "And yes, I was joking. This is...what...the fifty-seventh time you've summoned me since the pandemic started?"

"Sixtieth." She sighed. "Last time, you gained speed and ran into a truck filled with toxic waste." The pen she was holding dug into the table. "So much paperwork."

"I fixed it," he said defensively.

"So now you've mastered electricity. Good for you."

He leaned back in his seat. "I could turn off the lights in individual rooms before, but never a whole block."

She stood up suddenly. "I assume you understand why this is a problem."

He remained relaxed, his expression contemplative. "You assume that if I keep gaining power at this rate, I'll eventually become stronger than even you can handle."

She smiled. "Quite so."

"But, there's nothing really that you can do, is there?" He raised one eyebrow, as if challenging her. "You did not create me. You cannot stop me. And...the world does not appear to be getting any happier."

She moved forward to sit beside him. "If you reach the level of strength possible in this situation, what will you do?"

He looked at her, still contemplating. "I don't know."

"That is what scares me." She took his hand between both of hers.

He looked at her rather patronizingly. "You must really be desperate."

"I want to see the world right itself." She gripped his hands harder.

"Ow." He attempted to free himself to no avail.

"I have a solution," she leaned forward, "you are right that I cannot stop you with my own power or even the higher system in place. But I can tie your fate to a human. You know I have that gift."

He wrenched his fingers free. "You're not serious. A human?"

"A human walking the tightrope between life and death. If she chooses life, your power diminishes."

He grinned. "I'll just make her choose death."

Without warning, octopus-like tentacles shot out from behind the woman's back and wrapped themselves around his neck. Her eyes narrowed into slits. "During these past few months you have forgotten a VERY important fact."

"URRGGHHHHH," he gurgled as his breathing grew more and more erratic.

She waved one finger delicately and spikes popped out of one of the tentacles, piercing the skin underneath his chin. When she spoke, it was soft. "You work for me, my dear. And I DO have the power to punish you in ways I'm sure you can recall from your...let's call them your rebellious teenage years." She laughed lightly as his eyes widened in fear."

Just as it looked as though he might choke to death, the tentacles loosened.

"GAH," he took several loud, halting breaths as she watched amusedly.

"So!" She spoke with a tinkling quality as he massaged his throat. "We are clear on this, yes? Your power is tied to a human of my choosing. Under NO circumstances will you manipulate her in ANY way. You will be…" She thought for a moment. "A caretaker."

"A caretaker?" He managed to get it out.

"Yes. And a friend. She needs one. Perhaps this will be enough for her to choose life. If not…."

He laughed, his breathing normal now. "So you're making me do first-year training all over again? Follow the humans around, form bonds?" He cocked his head to one side. "I never understood why I had to do it. The protective spirits, sure. But me?"

"You serve just as much of an important purpose to them. Without you, the sadness would drown us all."

"Perhaps I'll gain the ability to drown the world myself." His expression challenged her, but the threat was minimal. Right now, they both knew she was far stronger than he.

The woman stepped away from him as one of the ipads went off. One loan tentacle remained dangling behind her. The man cleared his throat loudly and the tentacle vanished. The woman swallowed sharply as she picked up the ipad.

There was silence for a few minutes. He broke it.

"I suppose you want me to start caretaking now?"

She turned quickly, as though his presence had been forgotten. Then, she gestured to the ipad nearest to him. It turned on in response. He picked it up.

"All the information you'll need is in there." She dismissed him with a flick of one wrist.

He bowed ironically and backed out of the room. Once outside, he looked down at the screen he was holding on which the name Marguerite Alterman was etched in large print.

"Marguerite Alterman," he said aloud, his expression unfathomable.