by N. M. Brown
“Hello?” Echo yelled, feeling silly. Where could they all possibly be? Turning on the spot Echo moved to the second floor. Maybe Gala or Twilight was in… “Hay? Anyone home?” But again, turning on the spot on the second floor, there was no one. Every door that was normally wide open was now closed and Echo didn’t feel like embarrassing herself more by checking if they were all locked. “What the hell?” She murmured to herself.
The click of a latch behind her sent lightening up Echo’s spine so fast she thought she’d hit the roof. Instead, she spans round and was greeted by a sleepy-eyed Nic, wearing nothing. Nothing but the bare skin he’d donned thousands of years ago. Echo was no shy wall flower when it came to sex, but even she was blushing at the sight of Nic. He didn’t speak, just looked at her through sleepy eyes, blinking hard every few seconds.
“Nic. Where is everyone?” Echo suddenly felt… claustrophobic, like she was about to catch her breath in her throat. It was silly really; she was stood in the middle of the hall, with high ceilings above her and enough room to swing a cat. She knew she could, because she’d given Wilson a whirl now and again, so he wouldn’t become placid. Only beasts could roam these halls.
“Everyone…?” Nic mumbled, rubbing sleep from his eye with one hand and scratching his balls with the other. Echo didn’t look away and was pleasantly surprised how well-endowed Nic was. Not that he’d ever have sex; that would be like a bird trying to swim, completely against his lethargic nature. “Everyone left.”
“Yes, I figured that Nic. I want to know where?” Echo huffed folding her arms.
In that moment, Echo wasn’t sure what it was and when she looked back on the moment, she still couldn’t pin-point it, but something changed in Nic right before her eyes. It was like an indistinguishable twitch of a coiling cobra. You didn’t see it, but you knew when you where suddenly in a whole new ball park. Maybe it was how Nic raised his hooded eyes at her and suddenly didn’t look so sleepy? Or maybe it was his stature; growing in size and high, no longer slumped? Or maybe his voice, because it came out low and hard? Echo couldn’t tell but suddenly, it wasn’t the Nic she’d grown to dismiss before her, but something else. Something she - in her gut - recognised to be deadly and dangerous. “Didn’t your mother every teach you ‘I want’ doesn’t get?”
Echo found herself taking an involuntary step back and her arms fell limp to her sides. “Well… no. Of course not. I didn’t have a mother?”
Nic raised one slim, arrogant eyebrow that set Echo’s teeth on edge. “Really? You sure about that?”
Echo’s heart beat a little faster, but she squashed it down. “Why would I give a fuck about some whore who gave me away, or abandoned me? I like where I ended up.” Echo smiled. Fleeting pictures flashed through her mind of the good-old times. Primary school and starting gang wars across the class rooms; spending Easter smashing all the chocolate eggs or swapping them out for real eggs, ones that had started to rot. Then there were the lavish parties she and Adin had attended at the age of nine: Adin would schmooze up to the rich ladies flowering them with compliments while Echo would dance for Sam’s clients, not caring who was watching. Then, as they got older, they had bigger rolls: arm candy for the big bucks, models for the latest must-have or even having a blow-out fight between the two of them, no rules, no tap outs. First to fall unconscious loses.
“Yes, here, with us. That’s where you ‘ended up’?” Nic said, bring her back to the ground. He seemed less… dangerous now but Echo still felt like she was on her toes and the way he spoke, it seemed off to Echo but she couldn’t tell why. “It’s all just one big mystery, isn’t it?” Nic smiled, now stood with her arms folded and leant against the door frame.
“Not a mystery I care about.” Echo answered, finding her feet beneath her. Would she fuck let Nic of all Sins intimidate her.
“No. Evidently you don’t.” Nic’s body curled in on its self slightly and his head lolled to the side. He stood there watching her, while Echo watched right back. She made it her mission to not look at his cock, but when someone say’s don’t look at the elephant in the corner, you tend to turn your head. His mellow, calm voice saved her from the embarrassment of checking him out once more, and having to admit that she’d probably tap that, however uncomfortable he made her. “They went for a meeting.”
It took Echo a moment to realise that he was answering her first question, one she’d all most forgotten about. After the thoughts that had run through her head, the where and why’s didn’t seem important. “A meeting? About what?”
“Family business.” Nic didn’t elaborate and Echo knew that he wouldn’t. Nic didn’t share and quite frankly, she was lucky to be getting anything out of him.
“So why aren’t you there?”
Nic plucked at dirt under his finger nail before trying to get at it with his teeth. “They’re casting a vote and needed to not be disturbed.” Nic gave her a pointed look, “With so much police around, you can imagine it’s hard right now. I know where I stand, as do my siblings so it seemed pointless for me to go. My view won’t change so I passed on the opportunity to sleep through such boring matters.”
Echo felt a wave of anger roll up her cheeks at the police comment, but she didn’t bite back. Whether the police presence here was or wasn’t her fault, what mattered was there was a family meeting and she hadn’t been invited. “What’s the vote on?” She asked, but at Nic’s crooked half smile, she could guess. “Family business? Of course. Well, why wasn’t I asked to join? I am family.” She spat, trying to contain her anger. After all the bull shit Sydney had said at her, she would have liked some confirmation of where she stood.
“You are family, aren’t you dear? A real soul of the damned.” Was all Nic said after a long pause, before he promptly chuckled softly to himself and closed the door gently in her face. Echo would have been horrified but her ears still rang with Nic’s last words. She couldn’t decide if it was a statement or a question. Both answers would lead down two very different paths and Echo wasn’t sure which she hoped for more.
✽ ✽ ✽
Eventually, after tripping over Nic’s words for too long, she stepped into her own apartment. It was dark and empty though Wilson’s black coat shone in the light of a side lamp as he slept on the high back chair, but that was the only sign of life. Echo felt… dejected but quickly shook it off. Nonsense. They were all away, no doubt voting how best to cause havoc and chaos somewhere which wasn’t something she could join. She could have given suggestions, she amended in her head, but it didn’t matter. She should be pleased she could rest.
Yet even as she sat next to Wilson causing him to wail and scratch up her arm, she twitched her leg and drummed her fingers. A hot shower. That’s what she needed. Then she’d get dressed up and get ready for tonight’s opening.
She had a few hours yet, but she’d need to serve drinks and entice customers like never before. She’d probably have to pick up Sydney’s slack no doubt too, which she was actually looking forward too. Maybe she could make the girl cry again, if she even turned up. But as she dried off her steaming skin, she was drawn away from her closet, back to the large window. Again, she sat on the high back chair her long legs curled up, the soft leather cushioning around her.
Sat alone in her dark, empty apartment; she was shocked when the door behind her creaked open. But before she could turn around a wave of dizziness flashed across Echo’s vision and the world outside blacked out.
✽ ✽ ✽
The newspaper rustled again as Archer turned the page. Echo drummed her fingers on the chair arm slowly, as if to suggest she wasn’t even aware she was doing it. But she was, and Archer knew. Sat together, they were enjoying some morning tea in the library, recently cleaned and tidied after the crazy night before. Archer perused the Business section; probably finding a new leech to call his own, while Echo palmed a book in her hands. Her eyes, however, were all for the newspaper. The headline was dull, something on a scandal in Parliament; Samantha�
�s or Twilight’s doing no doubt which held no interest. It was the inner pages Echo wanted; the small print. The articles and stories that were looked over and forgotten.
But Archer took his sweet time. He didn’t give up anything easily, but after another five minutes, finally Archer was done. However, he simply folded the newspaper and tucked it down the side of the couch, sipping his coffee slowly. Echo’s eyes blurred as she skimmed the book she held. The British Empire & The East Indian Trading Company: Visionaries or Villain; it was dull as pig shit but still Echo didn’t reach for the paper, instead she drank her herbal tea. It was a soft blend of rose tea and Himalayan rhubarb. The mixture was awful. She wouldn’t be testing that again.
“I had such an odd experience last night.” Archer mused, flipping the paper over onto the side table next to him. Echo only grunted as any teenager would. “So strange….” Archer didn’t elaborate, and Echo just kept looking at the same page she had for the past thirty minutes. With a sigh, Archer stood and quickly scanned the black and white text. “Just to think, all the trouble that we had to go through at the beginning of this pathetic excuse of humanity. The scandal, the banishment; all for this childish playground.”
Downing the last of his fifty pound-a-cup coffee, Archer stood, stretched, and leisurely walked away, paper left forgotten. Echo only waited a heartbeat before snatching it up and opening it to the right page. Eyes shredding apart the badly written articles and wonky photographs, she kept scanning until she found what she wanted. There, on the bottom left corner of the black and white print, a small notary:
GUNS HEARD IN OUTERRIPPLING: A man-hunt took place for a wanted murderer last night. In the Police Statement given, the suspect was killed after refusing to stand down and he threatened an Officer’s life. The officer in question stated he was pleased he would be able to return home to his family. No name was given for the suspect and no pedestrians were harmed in the pursuit, nor any officers.
“Fucking fantastic.” Echo bubbled out with a laugh, the sound bounced around the empty room. Four sentences. Four. That was all Adin was worthy of, and a seemingly random officer was given more print-time. No doubt the Officer was made up to justify the killing. Echo smiled. Served the bastard right. Anger swarmed through her and she smiled as the sweet taste of revenge took over. Suddenly, callus hands dropped on her shoulders and slid round her front, pulling Echo’s back to the hard-muscled chest behind her.
“What has you in such a volatile mood this morning my sweet?” Mara’s voice was breathy and soft, like that of a lover as she spoke in Echo’s ear. She gorged on violence.
“They’ll forget him.” Echo breathed, pleasure coating her tongue. Her bastard brother would be forgotten, and she had been the one to do it. She had manipulated and manoeuvredher way through the police and the detectives until she found her prize. She only regretted that Adin would never know how the police had suddenly found him. He’d never know it was down to her that he was caught.
“What sin you breath girl.” Mara inhaled, sliding her nose those Echo’s hair and running sharp nails across her scalp.
“Mara dear, do keep yourself in check. I can smell you from the other room.” Samantha chastised, walking slowly into the room only wearing a loose kimono. Bright duck egg blue with splashes of pink flowers, it was light and airy, rippling past the curves of her body. Her creamy skin was visible through the silky material and dark nipples played peek-a-boo as she walked. She wore tasteful pink underwear and unclipped garters. If Echo wasn’t preoccupied, she might have asked if Samantha wanted warming up.
“But I’m hungry. Echo’s providing a mid-morning snack.” Mara pouted but her eyes sparkled. “I’m feeling-… more energized. And after last night…” Mara trailed off.
Shrugging her shoulders hard, Echo dislodged Mara and stood suddenly. “I’m going up stairs.” She muttered.
Fleeing to the doorway, Mara stopped Echo in her tracks with a sharp heel kick that would bruise by morning. “Have you seen your brother recently? He’s always brimming with anger? If you’re going to be so absent, I might as well get my fix somewhere else.”
Echo didn’t turn around, they might read her face too well; know too much. “Haven’t seen him since last night. He said he was going out hunting.”
“Well damn, isn’t our little boy all grown up?” Mara gloated, no doubt baring her teeth in a grin.
“Yep, long live the king.” Echo joked, leaving the conversation at that.
Flying up the stairs as fast as her feet could take her, she tumbled into the attic where Adin and she shared a room. “My room now.” She smiled to herself, throwing herself onto the bed. The sun shone brightly into the room from the large window that took up one entire side. They’d shared the space but now, Echo thought gleefully, now she could use it all for herself.
Looking over the newspaper again, Echo read the article repeatedly. Murderer. That’s what they called him. Adin would be so pissed. Murderers were peasants. Adin was a god. He struck fear into people’s hearts well before they even knew there was something too fear. He’d stalked them for weeks, corralling that fight or flight instinct. He would hunt them; follow them as he shook loose that survival instinct. Only the chosen few would be given ‘gifts’. The gifts had been Echo’s idea. The fear of someone watching was ingrained deeply into the human psyche and was as unwelcome as a tiger in the bushes, an enemy on the battle field, akiller outside your window. The gifts were a little calling card; a little tip of the hat to get the adrenalin pumping and the heart quivering.
But then… then the fucker had gone and done it: he’d started to kill them. Take their lives, take their fear. Echo had told him to stop; told him it was stupid. Where was the fun in death? Dead was dead and then you had to find a new toy. But Adin didn’t listen. His pride got the better of him, his ego came before her - his sister - and she couldn’t forgive that so, Echo did what she did best. She played the game and won.
She’d tied her hair back, cleaned her face of makeup and wore the ugly clothes she’d once been sent home from school in. Apparently, fishnet tights with a leather skirt and a rock band top the slipped off her shoulders was inappropriate and disrespectful for school wear. On the other hand, knee length pleated skirts, a white shirt and a short cut blazer were much more appropriate. Echo had rolled her eyes and enjoyed keeping the uniform. Did Nuns not keep up with porn nowadays?
Walking into the Station, snotty tissue clutched in one hand, she’d looked up at the receptionist with big, watery eyes. “I’d like to-…” Sniff, sniff. “I’d like to report my brother as a murderer please.”
In less than a minute she was sat surrounded by the head detective on the case and a number of Officers, each with their ears pinned high as she told her tale:
Once upon a time, her brother, troubled since birth, was as any brother should be: loving, loyal, protective. Raised together in a loving home they had been a team, a brotherhood. But then things had changed. He’d grown distant and aloof and how now, each night he came home smelling of blood. She prayed and prayed to God to help her brother but alas, He could not hear her cries…
It was quite a compelling show. Echo was proud. She’d been so good; she’d been able to go back again and again for dramatic effect, loving how she could thrust herself into the police’s case with ease. She could draw conclusions they couldn’t and could tell them right from wrong. How could they know Adin didn’t target a type because, well, Echo told him not too? How would the police know that Adin stalked his pray, several at once, when Echo was the one who suggested it? She got off on it, seeing how lost they were: how incapable. It was a rush. But she wasn’t her brother; her pride wouldn’t go to her head. She kept her goal in mind.
Adin, however, grew to love death. He’d ignore her sound advice and instead, told her of the rush he felt as his victim’s eyes glassed over, or when he saw the last of their hope flutter out the door on the wings of a butterfly. He would say, ‘Death is the devils play thing and I a
m the Devils fingers. I am his heart and his head and his soul.’ Echo always rolled her eyes. Of the two of them, he was always the most dramatic. He loved the smell of death, he would tell her over and over and over. He loved the sparkle that died in their eye, the coarse croak as the expelled their last breath. Echo spat at him. Stupid, stupid Adin. Death was permanent. Death was the end. No fear or pain or suffering could last past death. Death was boring.
Echo laughed again, curling the newspaper close to her chest. “But I guess you know that now.” Far below the door-bell rang, which was odd because they were an elite House and people didn’t call in the mornings, they didn’t open in the morning. Echo ignored it, instead jumping to find some scissors; this shit she was going to keep forever.
But then Mara appeared in her doorway, looking… different, and Echo couldn’t make out what it was. “There are some police here to see you.” Mara told her. She didn’t elaborate. Just stood waiting.