“It’ll patch,” Alex replied.
“Here,” Rain said as he pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket. Alex held out his hand and hissed as Rain wrapped it tightly. “That’ll do until we get home.” Then, looking to Lita. “You fight like you’ve done this before.”
Lita laughed. “Me? I’m not the one who came armed for this specific gig. I mean, Christ, Rain, who the hell are you? You ignore a meal pouring from this kid’s hand, you kill your own kind, you—”
Rain’s reaction was so swift and fierce, Lita didn’t even see it coming. All she knew was that suddenly his hand was around her throat, her back was against a wall, and his nose was inches from hers.
“They are not my kind.” His voice was deep, furious, and his eyes, glaring and blue, stared into hers like bullets. And as she stared back in that wide-eyed moment of shock, she watched those eyes change for just an instant. They didn’t turn yellow like those others, but rather flashed a deep, turbulent violet. Only for a second, and then it was gone.
Then Alex was next to him, grabbing his arm. “Rain! Let her go!”
Rain hesitated for a moment, then blinked and released his grip. He stumbled back a step and shook his head, wavering slightly on his feet. Lita coughed, putting a hand to her throat and shooting him a hateful glare.
“I…I’m sorry,” Rain murmured, then shook his head again.
“Yeah,” Lita said shortly and took a step away from him.
Rain sighed and pulled his smokes and lighter from his coat. Startled and angry though she was, Lita couldn’t help notice the lighter’s flame wavering from shaking hands as he lit his cigarette. Snapping the lighter closed, he said, “We should get going,” through a thick cloud of smoke. “If you’re still coming, that is. Your call.” Not waiting for an answer, he turned away to head towards the driver side door.
Though Lita hardly wanted to get into that car now, she knew she needed this ride. So all three piled into the same seats they had occupied before and, after some careful maneuvering to get out of the tight alley, they were off.
III
They made their way east across town, and then left Maple City behind as they pulled onto the wide highway that extended forty miles to Chicane. The whole time, not a word was spoken in the car. Even once they had passed over the last of the pavement and the wide road had turned to dirt—there wasn’t enough cooperation between most cities to pave the roads outside of city limits—the silence persisted.
Alex sat glumly in his seat, his stomach in knots, thinking his brother had dashed any chance he had of keeping his new friend. He kept his eyes locked out his window, refusing to look at Rain because he thought he might actually cry if he did, which was the last thing he wanted to do in front of Lita.
Rain sat feeling, on a level, guilty for what he had done to Lita. She had fought side by side with them and he hadn’t even offered her an explanation for his anger. But how could he explain it? He opened his mouth a couple of times to speak, but nothing would come out. In the end he decided, as he did with most things, that it was better left unsaid.
Lita, on the other hand, was just trying to think about nothing at all. She knew if she dwelled too much on what had just transpired, she’d probably end up saying something that would get her dropped off on the side of the road. She also knew that if she let her mind really start digging into the job at hand, it would start digging up the past as well, and that would just complicate things. She didn’t need complication. She needed a payday and a way out. So she did what she could to clear her mind and just watched the trees whip by around her at what she considered to be unnecessarily high speeds.
After a while they turned off the main road and onto a nearly nonexistent path that led them deeper into the woods. Not far after that—Lita guessed a mile at the most—the trees suddenly opened up into a large clearing and the car eased to a stop.
“Home sweet home,” Alex said.
SEVEN
I
Stepping out of Rain’s car, Lita looked up to the brothers’ house and felt her jaw drop. It was at least two stories, but by the way its roof came to such a stark peak and its foundation was anchored into a slight hill, she guessed it to have both an attic and basement to boot. Compared to her cracker-box apartment, it may as well have been a mansion. She had seen houses like this in Chicane and Silver City, but never in the outlying areas. No one bothered to build them that far from civilization. Except, apparently, someone like Rain. He seemed like he would prefer seclusion.
Rain led them up three stone steps to the front door, digging his keys out of his pocket as he did. Opening the door and stepping inside, he flipped a light switch to the right of the entrance, but nothing happened. He turned to Alex with an aggravated sigh.
“Did you forget to fuel the generators before we left?”
“No, I…” Alex began, then paused, then looked down. “…maybe.”
Rain pitched a thumb over his shoulder. “Go.” Alex hopped off the steps and ran around the back of the house. Leaning against the doorframe, Rain muttered something Lita didn’t quite catch and then lit yet another cigarette.
“You ever run out of those?” Lita asked.
“I buy them in crates. Supplier from Italy.”
“Nothing like stockpiling,” she said, then scanned her eyes over the two-acre clearing that surrounded the house. She guessed that clear-cutting this area likely provided more than enough lumber to build the house itself, as well as the sizeable shop that sat off to the left near the tree line. It had a pair of car-sized doors as well as a regular-sized one next to them.
The two stood in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, and then a low rumble came from behind the house. A couple seconds later, the light inside came flickering on.
“Come on in,” Rain said, stepping inside.
Following him, Lita’s awe over the residence only increased at the sight of the massive living room. To the left of the front door was a sitting area. A black leather couch sat next to a matching chair, the two arranged in an L formation around an oak coffee table. All of this sat upon a large red area rug which, in turn, rested upon flawless hardwood floors, all residing in front of an immense stone fireplace.
To the right of the fireplace was a two-way swinging door that probably led to a kitchen and a short hallway past that which looked to have a door or two at the end. A bedroom and a bathroom, perhaps. To the left of the fireplace, near the corner, was a short oak bar stocked with full crystal decanters and glassware. Sitting between that and the fireplace stood a large armoire, seeming oddly out of place in this room. Directly ahead of the front door was a long flight of stairs that went up to the wall, then doubled back on itself, leading to God knew what upstairs.
Lita let out a low whistle. “Where did this place come from?”
“I built it,” Rain replied matter-of-factly.
She gave him an incredulous look. “All by yourself?”
He took off his coat and hung it from a tall wooden rack next to the door. “You’d be surprised what you can accomplish when you’re immortal.” With that, he headed off towards the kitchen.
“Huh,” Lita said, then followed him, tossing her bag on the couch as she passed.
As she came into the kitchen, Rain was standing with the refrigerator door open, looking less than happy. “Alex!”
Lita looked over the kitchen as she walked in. Straight ahead of her was a dining area with a round table surrounded by four chairs. A mullioned door bordered by thick black curtains led out to the side yard past that. To her left was an island with a built-in stove, various pots and pans hanging on hooks above it. The fridge Rain stood at was against the wall to her left, each side of it bordered by black tile countertops that wrapped around the corners of the kitchen in L shapes.
“What is it?” Alex asked as he came in the side door.
Rain slammed the refrigerator closed. “All of this is bad.”
“It’s been almost a week,” Alex re
plied. “It would have been bad anyway. We should have come back sooner.”
“You’re lucky we didn’t have anything in the freezer,” Rain said in a low tone as he passed his brother and went outside. He returned a few minutes later carrying a particularly fat hen by its broken neck, its feet still twitching slightly. “At least your automatic feeder worked,” he remarked.
“That’s something, I guess,” Alex said. He had found a spot at the table and was dressing his wounded hand with gauze.
Lita was leaning against the wall next to the door to the living room, her arms folded across her chest. She watched with mild interest as Rain beheaded the chicken with a cleaver from the countertop knife block, then produced a glass pitcher from a cabinet under the island. For the next minute, the only sound in the kitchen was that of dripping liquid, constant at first, then gradually slowing to a stop once the pitcher was nearly half full.
Rain dropped the chicken on the cutting board and pulled a drinking glass down from a high cabinet near the fridge. He filled it, then put the pitcher away in the refrigerator. Heading towards the door, he nodded to the chicken as he passed Alex. “There’s dinner. Clean out the fridge when you’re done.” He then passed by Lita and out of the kitchen.
Alex made a mock salute and grumbled, “Yes, sir,” before rising and going around the island to see about the chicken.
Lita cocked her head towards the door. “Where’s he going?”
“Upstairs, probably to write in his journal. Are you hungry?”
She pulled from her pocket a small black wristwatch that had no band. It was still early, and a good meal would definitely help keep her focused. “I could eat.”
“Hopefully you like chicken. I make it a lot, so I’m pretty good at it.”
“Sure, that’s fine. I’ll be right back, need something out of my bag.” She left the kitchen, but wasn’t gone long before she came back with two wooden boxes in hand, one about half the size of a shoebox and the other a bit smaller than that. She sat them both on the table and opened their hinged lids. The larger had various small cleaning tools and rags in it, whereas the smaller was tightly packed near-full with 9mm bullets. Retrieving her handgun from her belt, she sat down and began disassembling it.
“Do you have to clean that thing every time you use it?” Alex asked, keeping one eye on her work as he started in on his own task of cleaning the chicken. He’d never seen a gun up close before and was curious about the mechanics.
“I don’t have to, but I do,” she said as she peered down the removed barrel. “Hasn’t failed me yet.”
“Do you use it often?”
“When I need to,” she replied.
Alex nodded and fell silent as he focused on the chicken, trying to hurry. He hadn’t eaten much in the last day.
“So Rain really built this place?” Lita asked, not looking up from her work.
“He did. Took him a few years. He built the shop first and lived out of it until the house was done.”
Lita paused, looking up at Alex, debating with herself about her next question for a long moment. Finally, she just decided, fuck it, and went for it. “Alright, let’s straighten something out here, because there’s one thing I just don’t get about you and your brother.”
“Can’t figure out the math, eh?” Alex said, looking up with a smirk. “How can I be so young and human and he be so old and immortal?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Well, long story short,” he said, looking back to his work, “I was born in 1693, and I died in 1705.”
Lita quirked a brow. “What now?”
“Just as I said. I died. Then, three years ago, I came back.” Alex said this like it was nothing, as though human resurrection was a perfectly common occurrence.
“What do you mean you ‘came back’?” Lita asked, still staring at him, parts of her gun in each hand.
“I mean exactly that. One minute I was lying there dying in 1705, and the next thing I know I’m waking up and over four and a half centuries have passed.”
“And how exactly did you accomplish that?”
“No idea. It just happened that way.”
“And Rain?”
“He became a vampire some years after I died. In fact, believe it or not, he’s actually my younger brother. If you count the time I was gone, I’ve got almost six years on him.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
Lita chuckled and shook her head. “Christ, the people you meet in taverns.” Looking back down at her weapon, she started popping bullets into the magazine. “Okay, miracle boy, how did you manage to die in the first place?”
A long silence followed, and Lita looked up to see Alex just staring down at the chicken in his working hands. The look in his eyes made her immediately wish she could retract the question.
“Do you like your chicken baked or fried?” he asked, his voice a little shaky.
“Baked is fine,” she replied. She had just finished reassembling the cleaned and reloaded weapon, and she cocked it with a decisive click before flipping on the safety and tucking it back into her belt as she stood. As Alex continued his work, she wandered into the kitchen, looking things over. She paused at the refrigerator where she opened and closed the door a couple of times, looking at it curiously.
“Never seen a refrigerator before?” Alex asked, smirking.
She shot him a look. “Yeah, smartass, I have. Just never in someone’s house, only in taverns and restaurants.” Closing the door, she turned her eyes to the thing sitting on the counter next to the fridge. “But what the hell is that?” It was an odd little box, about two feet wide and one foot deep. It had a see-through door on the front with a panel of buttons next to it.
“It’s a microwave,” Alex said with a chuckle.
Lita tilted her head. “What, is that like a small oven?”
Alex couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, sort of. Didn’t you call me sheltered because I’d never ridden in an elevator?”
Lita threw her hands out to the sides. “Hey, we can’t all have immortal brothers that collect centuries-old crap, okay pal?”
Alex grinned and shook his head as Lita leaned against the counter and crossed her arms, watching him work.
“He really isn’t like other vampires, is he?” she asked after a time.
“He certainly is not,” Alex replied.
“Care to share?”
“It’s a long story…not the kind that can be shortened.” He glanced at her. “And anyway, it’s not my story tell. But if you stick around long enough, maybe he’ll tell you himself.”
Lita nodded and looked down. A sudden feeling of unease settled into her stomach. She tried to ignore it by keeping the conversation going.
“So what’s the deal with his eyes?” she asked.
“I’m sorry?”
“In the alley, when he pinned me against that wall, his eyes changed. They turned kinda purple.”
“Oh,” Alex replied, “that. It’s a familial trait. An inherent power, like the Gifted have now. It switches on with rage, increases strength and speed briefly. It’s unpredictable though, makes the person irrational.”
“So you have it too then?”
Alex shook his head. “No, I’ve never felt it. I don’t exactly have a short temper.”
“But you said it was familial. So your father had it?”
Alex nodded, but once more fell silent. Lita let the subject drop, turning her attention to her watch that she had just pulled from her pocket again.
“Don’t worry,” Alex said. “We’ll get you to Chicane when you need to be there. Rain may be—well, Rain—but if he says he’ll do something, he won’t let you down.”
Lita felt something in her stomach turn at this. She suddenly thought she was going to be sick. Trying to keep a calm demeanor, she said, “You got a bathroom I can use?”
“Oh, sure,” Alex said. “Left out the door, then the door on the left at the end of the hall.
”
“Thanks,” Lita said, and let herself out of the kitchen. She crossed the living room briefly and snatched up her bag from the couch, then headed down to the bathroom.
II
Just what the hell kind of shitshow are you running here? Lita thought. She was standing in the bathroom, her hands clenched tight on the rim of the white basin sink as she stared at herself in the small rectangular mirror above it.
This wasn’t her style at all. At least, it certainly wouldn’t have been five years ago. Hitching rides from random bar patrons? Letting them stay over and then stopping in for dinner? Even ignoring the fact that she hadn’t entertained or been entertained outside of errant one-night stands in longer than she could remember, she was rolling the dice on a job here. A big fucking job. Assuming she could find a car in Chicane was sloppy as hell. On top of that, she was potentially putting these brothers in danger. Sure, she was going to hop a boat once the job was done, but what if someone traced something back to the two of them? They’d dust Rain on principle alone, and who knew what would happen to Alex. They didn’t deserve to be mixed up in any of that. Lita closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as her hands moved to her scalp and took up fistfuls of her hair.
A thought occurred to her then, one that had been lurking just below the surface of her consciousness from the moment Jonas had handed her that file folder. What if she really didn’t want this job? What if attempting this convoluted approach to Chicane was because she was hoping something would go awry? It wasn’t too late to walk away. She could get the brothers to take her back to Maple City, use some of the front money to get up to Silver City and leave this whole continent behind. But that still created the possibility that someone might trace her back to the two of them, and in this case it would be burned employers, who would do a lot worse to them than any authorities would. So no matter which way she went, she put those two in danger simply because they took her there.
Lita’s eyes suddenly snapped open as an idea flashed through her head. It wasn’t a great idea, but it would surely turn out better in the end for everyone involved. Really, she didn’t have a choice—or, at least, telling herself that made the plan a lot more palatable.
The Crimes of Orphans Page 10