Michael cleared his throat. “Well, of course, every plan has its kinks to work through. The Gifted are a special case in and of themselves. I’m sure there will be a great deal of discussion over them.” He retrieved his pocket watch and paid it a glance.
“I apologize, I’m keeping you,” she said, then added with a smile, “I’ve enjoyed this talk, Michael.” She genuinely meant it.
“I have as well, Amelie,” he said, returning the smile and realizing with some surprise that he meant it too. He stood to see her out. “I look forward to continuing this over lunch.”
“Three days?” Amelie asked, following him to the door.
“Three days,” he said, then opened the door for her and she let herself out.
As Amelie headed towards her own room, she tried to figure out how exactly the things she’d seen and the things Michael had said fit together, but the bigger picture would not immediately present itself to her. She had really only ascertained one thing for certain: after learning more about her stepbrother, she was more concerned than ever about him leading by her side.
III
Michael returned to his chair where he sat deep in thought for some time. As his mind worked away, he used his thumbnail to dig small bits of dirt out of the thin engraved border that ran around the surface of his desk, half an inch in from the actual edge. The housemaids cleaned in here daily, but grime always managed to collect in this small crevice. He knew he couldn’t blame the help. If they went over every nook and cranny of the palace with such fine detail, they’d reach Judgment Day before finishing a first run-through. Besides, it gave his hands something to do while he was thinking.
He had lied about being late for a prior engagement, of course. The solitude that lie afforded him would be worth the single lash it would cost. He supposed he could rationalize that he really did have a prior engagement with himself, but as soon as that thought surfaced, so did the curt voice of his mother, admonishing him that “Rationalizations are the whispers of Lucifer!” He actually flinched slightly, as though the voice had come from right behind rather than within. His mother would often stand behind him, watching over everything he did, waiting for the slightest infraction.
And with that voice, Michael felt the tugging begin. A shaky cold feeling shot through his stomach and up his spine, and he could already feel a thin layer of sweat forming on the back of his neck. Without thinking about it, his hand moved to the top drawer of his desk, and from it he retrieved an old, weathered rosary. As that cold feeling continued to creep over him, his fingers moved over the faded wooden beads as if of their own volition.
“I don’t need to yet,” he said. “In a little while maybe, but I’m doing fine right—”
He flinched, his eyes dropping.
“Please,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Just a while longer. Let me feel for—”
Another flinch, this one accompanied by a small whimper.
“No, I won’t,” he pleaded quietly. “I swear it. Just an hour more and then I promise I—”
He cried out this time, clutching at his head with his free hand as his other curled into a white-knuckle fist around the rosary.
“Okay! I will! I’m sorry, I will!” he blurted in a whisper-yell. Clambering to his feet, he lurched over to the bookshelf and tugged desperately at the faux French novel. Pushing his way into the little room as soon as the shelf had opened enough to do so, he pawed for the light switch in the dark.
Another cry of pain, and he had to clutch at the wall to stay standing.
“I am! Please, stop! I am!”
Seizing on the switch at last, he flipped it and froze for an instant. In that single second, his mind cleared just enough for him to turn his gaze upward and blink at the lightbulb that had come on immediately without its customary flicker or two. Then the clarity was driven from him as he stumbled to the little desk in another fit of pain, the lightbulb forgotten as he clawed open the top button of his shirt and yanked his own rosary out and over his head. Next to the crucifix hung a small brass key. He pulled the wooden lockbox over to him, knocking papers here and there in his hurry to open it. The padlock removed, Michael opened the box with shaking hands and his breathing became thin, almost asthmatic as he looked down to its contents.
Lying on a bed of white silk was a gauntlet. Right-handed and large, its cuff would cover half the forearm of most adult men. Its surface was a dark, aged silver, and nearly every inch of it was inscribed with blackened runes. Unable to wrench his eyes from it, Michael gripped the edge of the table tightly, the rosary beads in each hand pressing insistently into the flesh of his palms.
“What if…what if we don’t have to…” he whispered weakly, tears filling his eyes.
But as one final bolt of pain arced through his skull, the last of his willpower fell away. Dropping the necklaces on the table, he snatched up the gauntlet and plunged his right hand into it. It was impossible to describe the sheer rapture that overcame him the moment he closed that metallic fist and those runes began to radiate white light. It was as if that glow shone inwardly as well, dispelling all pain, all doubt, all resistance. As that eternal light filled his body, he fell to his knees, turned his eyes towards the heavens, and wept.
“Forgive me, my Lord, for faltering in my dedication to you. I opened myself to Lucifer and his temptations. Please, Lord, give me strength to stay true to my path. Impart unto me your blessed wisdom that I may see clearly once more.” He fell silent for a moment, trembling eyes focused on nothing but the blank canvas of the ceiling. Then, nodding, “Of course, my Lord. I will not forget again. I will repeat it one thousand times if I must, but I will not forget. Thank you for your eternal compassion, Lord.”
Michael lowered his eyes, turning them down to the open palm of the gauntlet, its softly glowing inscriptions casting odd shadow fractals across his face. As he watched that hand slowly close into a tight fist, he began to whisper.
“They brought unto him many that were possessed with devils, and he cast out the spirits with his word, and he healed all that were sick. They brought unto him many that were possessed with devils, and he cast out the spirits with his word, and he healed all that were sick. They brought unto him many…”
SIX
I
Rain pulled his coat on as he made his way down the hallway. Alex followed close behind, rubbing sleep from his eyes. They found Lita leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping a steaming cup of coffee. It was the first time either of them had seen her drinking something other than vodka. She had changed her clothes as well, swapping camouflage and tank top for cargo pants and t-shirt, both black.
“Sleep well, gentlemen?” she asked over the rim of her cup. Steam curled around her breath as if to frame her words. Rain nodded and went to the living room window, pushing open the curtains to gaze out at the last bit of pink on the horizon, past the outskirts of the city.
“The bed was comfortable, thank you,” Alex said.
Lita nodded. “Rain didn’t hog the covers?”
Alex laughed. “No, he took the floor.”
“Hm. Impressively chivalrous for a guy without a heartbeat.”
“Your friend is gone,” Rain said, still looking out the window.
“Yeah, I don’t mind letting two guys stay after a long night, but three’s a bit much. I’m not that kind of girl. Anyway, there’s more coffee if you want some.” Rain held up a hand to decline, then lit a cigarette, so Lita looked to Alex questioningly.
Alex wrinkled his nose a bit. “Do you have any tea?”
“’Fraid not, Ivy, but your roots are showing. How long has it been since you’ve been back to the mother country?”
Alex glanced at his brother, who finally turned his attention back to them. “A long time,” Rain said. “You ready to go, Alex?”
“I am,” Alex said, then looked to Lita. “Thank you for giving us a place to stay for the night.” She nodded, and Alex looked to Rain expectantly.
Rain c
leared his throat. “Yes, thank you. The floor was more comfortable than my trunk.”
“No problem, big guy,” Lita said with a smirk. “But before you go, I was hoping you might lend one more favor my way. That should about square us up, I think.” She had been thinking about this all night. She knew she could steal a car here in Maple City with relative ease—and if this didn’t pan out, that was exactly what she would do—but there was no real way for her to tell if it would break down on her halfway through the Maplewood Forest. However, if she could get to Chicane and pick up a car before the job, it would be a cinch to get across town to the docks.
Rain raised an eyebrow. “And what favor would that be?”
“Another ride?” Lita asked, then sipped her coffee as she stared back at him.
Rain looked to Alex, who gave him a small nod and an insistent look too blatant for anyone in the room to miss. The exchange was so lacking in subtly that it nearly made Lita laugh. She could tell the kid liked her.
Rain sighed. “Where are you heading?”
“Chicane,” she replied.
He pondered this a moment. “My car doesn’t have enough fuel to take us clear out to Chicane and back to our house—”
“But,” Alex interjected. “We have more fuel at home. You can come there, have dinner, and then we’ll take you to Chicane.”
Rain looked like he was about to protest, but Alex gave him another look. Finally, with another resigned sigh he said, “Yes, that would be fine.”
“Works for me,” Lita said, “Just as long as you can get me to Chicane by 10 o’clock. Not to be demanding of a charity ride or anything, I’m just supposed to meet someone for something important. So if that works, great, but if it doesn’t, I can just—”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Rain said, feeling his anxiety eased at the knowledge that she wouldn’t be staying long. He didn’t like strangers in his home, and Alex happened to be the only person alive who he didn’t consider a stranger.
“Perfect,” Lita said. “Let me go get my bag and I’ll be ready to go.” With that, she headed down the hall towards her bedroom.
“I could eat you for this,” Rain muttered.
“Promises, promises,” Alex said, and nudged his brother playfully.
A short time later, Lita returned with her knapsack slung over her shoulder. “Ready to go when you two are.”
“You take that thing everywhere?” Rain asked.
“Hell yes. I can live out of this thing for weeks if I have to. Now let’s go, we’re burning moonlight.”
II
The cramped elevator reached the lobby of the apartment building with a slight thud that made Alex place a hand on its wall with a startled look on his face.
“I’m glad I don’t live here,” he said. “This thing makes me nervous.”
“Trust me, kid, if you lived in this city, you’d have a lot more things to be nervous about than an elevator,” Lita replied. She slid open the door and they headed out to the back way leading into the alley.
Rain and Alex followed her halfway down the narrow road towards the inlet where Rain had parked that morning. As they turned right into the small space there, however, all three of them froze in their tracks.
“Like that,” Lita muttered.
The four men standing around Rain’s car turned their yellow eyes towards the trio as they came around the corner. The one leaning against Rain’s trunk had hair down to his shoulders, and his mouth turned up into a fanged grin. There were two others to the right of the car, one in a grey jacket and one with a blue shirt. The one standing to the left wore a yellow tank top that fit tightly against his lean, muscular frame.
“You’re going to want to get away from my car,” Rain said in a low growl.
The one with long hair started to laugh, but then Blue Shirt said, “Hey, Shane, take a sniff.”
Shane’s nostrils flared and he tilted his head, looking at Rain. He suddenly pushed off the trunk and stood up straight. “Oh, sorry, pal. Didn’t catch your scent on the car. We’ll get out of your way…” his eyes shifted to Alex and Lita, “…but why don’t you share some of your breakfast with us first, huh? Least you could do after forgetting to mark such a pretty car and all. You got my hopes up.”
“Wrong tree,” Rain said.
Shane gave him a confused look. “What are you say—”
Lita let out an annoyed sigh and stepped forward, drawing her handgun and training it on Shane’s head. “He’s saying get the fuck out of here, Sally, before we dust you and your playmates.”
Shane laughed, taking a step towards her. “What are you gonna do, sweetheart? A bullet won’t kill me.”
“One, maybe not. You take another step and I’ll empty this fucking clip into your face. Won’t have much of a head left to argue with then, huh asshole?”
“Oh heavens,” Shane taunted, “You’ve got me trembling, little girl.”
Lita didn’t even blink before pulling the trigger. Shane’s reflexes were fast enough to begin a dodge, but the bullet still managed to turn most of his right ear into a bloody splatter before rocketing into the back wall of the inlet. The boom of the gunshot crashed off the alley walls around them before echoing off into the darkening sky.
“You fucking cunt!” Shane screamed, clutching at the side of his head.
“Last warning,” Lita said, but Shane had already lunged forward as she began to speak, his other hand flashing out and wrapping around the wrist of her extended arm.
Without hesitation, Lita pulled that hand towards her as she shot out her other, cracking Shane squarely in the nose with the heel of her palm. He stumbled back, but managed to yank the gun from her hand as he did, and he quickly threw it behind him down the alley. Enraged, Lita stepped forward and delivered a hard kick to his chest, sending him sprawling to the ground.
The other three began moving towards them, but the brothers were ready to go. Rain tapped Alex, pointed to the one in the yellow tank top, then quickly made his own way towards Grey Jacket and Blue Shirt.
Grey swung at Rain’s face as he approached, but Rain ducked it, slamming a fist into Grey’s gut and throwing out a side kick that sent Blue against the brick wall of the inlet. As Grey doubled over, Rain rose quickly and drove a knee into his face.
Alex moved in on the offensive before Yellow could attack, swinging a balled fist around to meet his cheekbone. Yellow stumbled back a bit, but as Alex kept advancing on him, he pushed off the alley wall and shoved Alex hard with both hands, sending him reeling back and falling to his rear on the ground.
As soon as Shane had hit the ground, Lita brought a foot up and moved to slam it down into his face. However, Shane caught that foot with one hand and grabbed the back of her knee with the other. Hoisting her up as he rose, he threw her into the wall of the alley opposite the inlet. Her back hit the wall and she let out an “Oof!” as she slid to the ground.
Just as Grey was falling backwards from Rain’s knee to his face, Blue leaped onto Rain’s back, trying to put him into a headlock. Grinding his teeth, Rain used his foot to push off his car and shove back, slamming Blue against the inlet wall and rocketing his head back at the same time, cracking it into his nose. Blue howled in pain as he released Rain and fell to the ground. Rain deftly dropped to one knee, drew a wooden stake from a sheath sewn into the lining of his coat, and plunged it into Blue’s chest. The vampire gasped, and then his skin and clothes turned to ash and he crumbled apart like dry earth onto the hard ground.
After being shoved to the ground, Alex looked up to see Yellow rushing to dive on him, so he rolled back quickly, bringing both feet up to connect with Yellow’s chest, then vaulted him back towards the mouth of the inlet. Rolling over, Alex quickly scrambled to his feet and drew a stake of his own from a boot sheath. Yellow rolled over as Alex moved on him, but as the young man brought the stake down, Yellow threw a foot up and kicked it from his hand, slicing open his palm in the process. Alex hissed, drawing his hand instinctively
to his chest as his weapon clattered out into the alley.
Pulling herself to her feet as Shane moved on her, Lita ignored the pain in her back as she glanced up towards the fire escape above. Shane came in for a low tackle, but Lita jumped up, grabbed the fire escape, and rocketed both her heels out to connect with Shane’s chin. As he stumbled backwards, Lita was already back down on her feet and headed his way. Before Shane could regain his bearings, Lita wrapped her arm around his neck in a headlock, jumped up, ran two steps across the alley wall behind him, and came down on Shane’s other side, twisting his head around backwards with a loud crack. He crumbled into bits instantly.
Just as Rain had dispatched Blue, he saw Grey moving towards him. Using his upward momentum as he rose from his kneeling position, Rain grabbed Grey’s collar with both hands and vaulted him into the back of the inlet. Grey hit the wall and fell to his rear. Not giving him a chance to rise, Rain dashed forward and stomped Grey’s head against the wall, feeling it break into dust under his boot.
Whipping around to see Lita had taken care of her opponent, Rain hollered, “Are you ok?”
“Peachy, but—Alex!” Lita exclaimed as she came around the left side of Rain’s car to see Alex pinned on his back near the rear of the inlet. She moved to assist him, but Rain was already there and he grabbed her by the shirt, yanking her back.
“He can handle himself,” Rain said calmly. Looking down to see Alex’s stake on the ground, he kicked it over to his brother.
Lita watched more anxiously than she cared to express as Alex struggled with Yellow until the stake slid up next to him. Snatching it, he thrust it up into Yellow’s chest, and then shielded his face as ashes rained down on him.
Rain and Lita both went to Alex as he sat up, coughing and sputtering. Rain offered a hand, which Alex took with his left as he cradled his bleeding right against his chest.
“You’re wounded,” Rain said as he pulled his brother to his feet.
The Crimes of Orphans Page 9