I glanced at the stairs, wondering what Freddie would make of Ranth. “Come in. I can catch you up, and maybe you can shed some new light. You asked for a love potion, but I don’t do those because it’s not ethical. I can give you something for positivity to enhance your appearance if you want that?”
I only did intention oils for an occasional wedding or people who needed to love others more, like kids going home for miserable family gatherings who wished to love people they loathed, or to help with job interviews and stuff.
He rubbed a baby smooth jaw. “I was hoping you could, you know, give me a leg up?” He surveyed the living room.
“For your date?” I breathed through my mouth. “Look, Freddie, you are one of the sweetest people I know, but we’ve been through this. Even if I could make you a love potion the way you want it, it wouldn’t work. You can’t make someone love you unless something is already there.”
Freddie winced, like he’d been caught cookie-stealing.
“Actually, that’s not true,” Ranth said, coming down the stairs. He crossed his arms and scrutinized Freddie. “I overheard you had a guest. I’m Ranth of the Ahknim, and you are?” He didn’t extend a hand, and something rolled off him. Jealousy?
Freddie surveyed Ranth, glanced at me, and then narrowed his eyes at Ranth. “Freddie. Freddie Darko.” His hips jutted out. Great. Just what I needed, a testosterone face-off.
I shifted so I was a little more between them. “His name is really Frederico Fernandez, but he likes to be edgy and mysterious.”
Ranth smiled, locked in a stare-off with Freddie.
“He’s the one with the Marahk?” Freddie sized up Ranth as if he was a bark scorpion.
“Freddie has mad people skills,” I replied. “He found a number for your old group of friends.”
“These Marahk are pretty sketch, Sorrel,” he said, lowering his voice.
“Define how sketchy?” I shifted. It wasn’t easy to rattle Freddie. He pretty much had contacts in all fringe gangs in the Bay Area.
He straightened up, his attention glued to Ranth as if he was making a personal attack. “You know. Off the track. Bad raps from locals. The guy I know over in ‘Zandria knows a guy that says his cousin is a member. They’re super secretive. The cousin isn’t allowed to have a family. The org became his family when he joined.”
“A cult?”
“Yeah, I guess. Though darker stuff. Not like a religion. There’s talk of them being connected with the markets.”
“You mean black market?”
“Gray. There’s money definitely. So, he’s with them?” He gave a chin-led nod.
“I’m standing right here. You can ask me directly,” Ranth replied, his chin slightly raised, and his arms crossed.
Freddie narrowed his eyes. “You admit you’re a Marahk then?”
“I am of the Ahknim and proudly so. I don’t understand your other name. I believe your friends are poor informants.”
“Yeah, you’re real classy, I can see.” Freddie sneered, nodding at Ranth’s borrowed Keens and my eggplant purple sleepshirt, which was skintight on him. I really needed to take Ranth shopping if he was going to stay around. Ranth looked down at his feet and tugged the shirt down.
“Did they say anything else? Your friends?” I asked.
“Nah, all secret. But I got a number I gave to Ori. How about that love oil?” Freddie asked, his lips curling into a smile as he refocused on me.
I glanced at Ranth and then back at Freddie. “I’ll be right back. Try not to start a fight,” I said, walking around Ranth to my kitchen stash. I’d give him a couple of my best-quality lovers’ massage oils. A couple of drops would give him positive attraction vibes.
I returned to the living room and handed Freddie the vials. “There. That should hold you for a while.”
“Should we try it out and see if it works?” He grinned rakishly.
“Don’t push it,” I said.
The doorbell rang again, and my cell buzzed. Ori. I walked around Freddie and opened the door. “Hey.”
“I ran into Juke and thought…” Ori replied.
