Corinne’s eyes shot hellfire in our direction as she literally spat from her position behind her mother, “Don’t you dare address my mother by her given name, you filthy traitor. The Council should have killed you the day Johnson brought you here…a Rainbow should have never been allowed to set foot on Weaver land.”
Silver said in our head, “Blah, blah, blah…same shit different day with this one.”
Out loud I shot back an icy, “So you’ve said before, Corinne. I’ll say it again, in a slightly different way, so that maybe you’ll get the point…until you’re a Council member instead of your mommy’s lap dog, your words aren’t anything but piss in the wind. If you want a piece of me, you can get in line.”
David walked up behind the councilwoman and her daughter to say in a polite but firm voice, “Ma’am’s, if you would excuse me, y’all are interfering with the treatment of my patient. Please exit the premises if you can’t refrain from being hostile.”
Cora Harris looked the unassuming nurse up and down before motioning to her daughter and turning on her heel in the direction of the door. James opened it as soon as the councilwoman turned as if to leave but I knew she wouldn’t be able to exit without one final parting salvo.
Face rigid, Cora flung her head back on an even stiffer neck. “This isn’t over by a long shot. I will be reporting all of these events to the Council.”
Gerome dipped his chin tiredly and then raised it again to say, “You do that, Cora, you do that.”
As soon as the door was shut and locked, my uncle slumped in the loveseat, looking almost twice his age and more than a little frail. His sickly pallor brought home the fact that he still needed fluids to replace the blood he’d lost and David dropped down on his knees to immediately take his vitals. The nurse barked at Silver and I because we were closest.
“His blood pressure is dangerously low. Help me set up the pole for the Ringer’s while I insert the IV.”
David used his knee to gently nudge the bag around in between us from his opposite side, and I bent us down to pull the black canvas bag forward to unzip its foot long opening. Inside rested a collapsible aluminum pole, a bag of watery fluid labeled clearly in black ink as Ringer’s lactate and several sterile plastic wrapped supply packs.
I reached our hand in to pull the pole free and stood to let it unfold. Luckily we retrieved it right side up and the four legs at the bottom fell into position with the force of gravity. I pushed down a hand to lock them in place, then continued on up the pole to secure each collapsible section at its joint, folding out the hook at the top for the bags of solution. Once the pole was secure, we retrieved the bag of Ringer’s and hung it.
David looked to our handiwork and gave a half smile of thanks as he finished inserting the IV, securing it with bright white tape that stood out starkly against Gerome’s tan, hair-covered forearm. I could only imagine the curse words he would utter when Maggie removed the sticky stuff later and Silver gave an internal chuckle of agreement. David waved us aside as he rose to attach the tubing and check the flow of fluids to our uncle’s body.
Something was different about the night nurse, but neither of us could quite put our finger on it. He seemed more confident and happy, as if the years had been extremely good to him, which made us glad. A shadow of unease lingered, though.
Since we were mostly just going to be in the way now, I backed us up to let Maggie know the coast was all clear after giving Gerome a parting pat. Predictably the twins were awake. I couldn’t find any fault with their actions since I wouldn’t have been able to go back to sleep as a child if I’d woken to shouting and a house full of uninvited guests in the middle of the night. They were at least sitting docilely on the bed, side by side, as Maggie read from a dog-eared book.
When I pushed open the door with a gloved hand the twins looked up startled, which made my aunt turn, raising her eyebrows in query. The dimmer light was so much more comfortable to our eyes, and our agitation went down several degrees. Not for the first time I groused to my sister, “You need to fix this light sensitivity issue. It’s putting us on edge when we shouldn’t be and that could cost us in the long run.”
Silver tightened jaw muscles as she clenched our teeth. “Sure, I’ll jump right on that when we aren’t busy defending ourselves from the Council and Axsian hit men…not to mention our old fallback plan of killing the Soul Eater to end a Weaver civil war that’s been going on for hundreds of years on Earth. Shall I pencil it in on Tuesday?”
Out loud, I spoke in an even voice. “David is ministering to Gerome and everything’s okay for the moment. James and Malcolm are still here too, but everyone else is gone.”
My aunt snorted. “I’m tempted to ask housing for new quarters just so we don’t have to clean up all the mess. Since the kids are up we can run the wet/dry vac and suck up most of the flour. Should we draw straws or do you volunteer?”
Now I cringed both internally and externally, then plastered an extremely apologetic expression on our face. “Maggie, I’m really sorry about the disaster area that used to be your living room, but I need to take James and head into town to get Kara. I’ve got two days to get things straight before the Tribunal.”
The twins were both trying to follow our conversation and failing by the puzzled glances they kept throwing from one to the other of us, as if our words were a ball bouncing back and forth. Maggie deflated but didn’t make a smart remark or say something to make us feel guilty. She went off into ‘la, la’ land for a moment and just when I was about to turn our body to leave, her face lit up. Maggie bounced from the bed with so much exuberance, for just a fleeting moment in time I imagined her as a little girl like Reb.
Freckled cheeks rosy, she said, “Hey wait, I saved something for you two! Stay here with the kids and I’ll be right back!”
Maggie breezed by us as she went down the hall in the direction of the master bedroom with thudding steps. Reb and Ray were so curious about what had their mother excited, they didn’t even take the time to pepper Silver and I with questions about the evening’s events. We all waited expectantly as the sound of a closet door squeaking came faintly down the hall, followed by some rustling of what sounded like boxes and then the returning thuds of Maggie’s approach. When my aunt cleared the doorway she had a hand behind her back and a smile on her face. To their credit, the twins gave nothing away since they could see what she held concealed from our sight.
With her free hand Maggie pulled one of our hands forward then placed an almost new notebook, with our old pen still attached to the front, in our palm. She’d kept our journal safe all this time. The feeling inside us was one of grateful warmth and appreciation. Silver took over to flip open the cover and finger through the pages until her one entry, in shaky block letters, was open to the air, then she closed the collection of thin paper with a small snap. Tears gathered in our eyes and I wasn’t entirely certain if the emotion was my own or if Silver felt the same way, until our arms reached out to pull Maggie close in a tight hug that put our aunt’s earlier welcoming embrace to shame.
We stood entwined, enjoying the moment, until our aunt tapped out.
She swatted a stray strand of hair back with the rest of the red mass. The blue nightlight cast dashes of foreign color on the slick surface of her eyes. “Are you staying with us or the Lees?”
Suddenly I felt distinctly squirmy inside.
Silver laughed out loud. “You get right to the point, don’t you, Maggs? We haven’t invited ourselves to stay over at the Lees, but I don’t really see how it would work for us to stay here.”
Maggie’s chin puckered as she smiled. “I understand, Sweeties, just know the door is always open. If I have to make Gerome build another room onto the house, I will.”
Silver stretched our lips in a genuine grin of gratitude, or at least that’s what I guessed by her emotions, then rolled the thin spiral into a tube and stuffed it into one of our many inner coat pockets. The leather duster we’d been gifted just t
his morning by our mentor Kal had enough concealed places in the lining that I was beginning to wonder how much time Jaz had spent crafting it. I envisioned her slender neck bent over her work, muttering about sticky fingered Aniy as the glittering light in her warren cast shadows on the folds of her head wrap. Thinking of sticky fingers reminded us that the weapon from Gerome’s attack still rested in one of our front pockets.
Silver pointed a finger to each of the twins before giving them a wink, to which they responded with squeals of delight. “We’ve got to get a move on. Reb, Ray…the deal is still on, so if you behave and go back to sleep for your mom, we’ll be back tomorrow night.”
Maggie threw her weight from one hip to the other. “About that, dear—I’m not sure how comfortable I am with them being on the roof.”
Simultaneous protests rang out from the bed.
Silver brought up one corner of our mouth in what I assumed to be a smirk. “They won’t fall off and even if they do, falling isn’t the problem...it’s the landing that causes all the fuss. I promise they won’t land, how’s that, Maggs?”
I groaned. “Silver, you are not at all reassuring.”
Chapter Five: Romeo
When Silver walked us back into the living room, Maggie following close at our heels, David was taking Gerome’s vitals again. James and Malcolm were standing in the kitchen with their heads close together, gossiping or planning, so we made a beeline for the two men.
They hushed at our approach, making us wonder if we were the topic of conversation. Silver reached into our pocket to remove the small heavy object and hold it under the overhead light for inspection.
We didn’t need the extra light of course but it helped the others to see it better. Resting in our palm was a beautifully crafted Aniy ceremonial hand knife that all agents were given at the time they took their oath of office. A person thinking of a traditional ‘knife’ might envision a straight blade big enough to be held in an eight foot tall alien’s hand.
What rested in our extended palm resembled a pair of brass knuckles with a single shining edge that extended all along its top and then turned into a small double edged blade toward where the thumb would be. The item was carved from an extremely tough bone that was almost as rigid as steel.
Another property of the rare bone was its ability to repel liquid as if it were sprayed with alien Scotchgard, so it was handily free of my uncle’s blood. Only an agent could acquire a weapon such as this and his family crest was burned onto the part of the grip his fingers would normally cover. I recognized the emblem immediately and Silver whistled out loud. House Metgung was usually the clan least lent to strife but it wasn’t impossible obviously.
Malcolm cocked his head. “Is that what he slit Gerome’s throat with? That’s what you picked up off the floor…I knew you were up to something!”
Silver shoved the item in question at Malcolm. “Would you rather I pulled it out in front of everyone or left it on the floor for him to grab? Don’t get mad at me because you forgot to secure his weapon, Big Man. Anyway, I’m giving it to you now. Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday.”
James straightened, offended. “There’s no call for you to constantly throw things in people’s faces, Silver. Maybe you should let Cass out to play for a bit, at least she isn’t a …never mind.”
Malcolm unintentionally knocked James so hard on the arm the other man rocked in place. “She’s right, Romeo. I should have secured his weapon and I didn’t. This teleportation, hiding in plain sight BS, is getting to me. Dynamite saved the day, so cut her some slack.”
James took a deep breath, expanding his muscular chest, and my twin groaned inwardly.
Silver’s mind was half in the Web as she thought, “He’s right, you take charge for a bit. I’m headed to tell Kal about our lovely homecoming and rip him a new one.”
I sent surprise her way but Silver was already gone, leaving me in control of our body with a suddenness that made the hand holding the ceremonial knife dip just slightly. “Malcolm, would you like to show this to Gerome since he’s immobile? I’m sure he’s curious.” I followed the suggestion with a brief smile and his eyes softened as he reached out a hand, just below mine so I could let the knife drop carefully into his palm, making sure not to let it land on a sharp edge.
His deep voice rumbled in his chest as he mumbled in an aside that James could still hear—men of his size didn’t whisper well, “I take back my earlier statement about confusing you two—you’re one of a kind, Cass.”
Blood bloomed under heated skin before I could gain proper control of my emotions and I felt disloyal for taking Malcolm’s statement as a compliment. After he walked away, there was a moment of uncomfortable silence between James and I accompanied by the background chatter of the four adults in the living room.
James uttered, “You really are one of a kind, Cassandra.”
My eyes narrowed as I gazed up at his too handsome face, with its wind mussed hair and too damn perfect eyebrows. “I should make one thing clear before we go any further down the road you want to pursue—Silver is never going to go away. I am her and she is me. If you can’t make peace with us as we are, then I’m done. I won’t hold it against you, but I can’t have you trying to come between us, James.”
An emotion I couldn’t pin down rippled across his features and then he paused thoughtfully before saying, “I know who you are, Cass, and I love you. Silver and I will work it out eventually in our own way. Maybe you should stay out of it.”
The heartbeat that had been relatively steady before began to raggedly stutter in our chest as butterflies burst to life in the general area of our intestines and I hoped to hell and back that Silver didn’t return to ruin this moment in my life with a smartass remark.
James had professed his feelings before in our many Web sessions but it felt different when he said it out loud, for the entire world to hear. The air I breathed in carried the sound of his words into our lungs to be absorbed, warming me from the inside out. A small, “Oh” of surprise escaped before I could stop it. I’m sure I looked quite the idiot, standing there blinking like an owl, trying not to cry.
James smiled broadly. “Just ‘oh’ huh? Not even a ‘ditto’ or a ‘right back at you, babe’?”
His humor triggered something inside and that quick, reality popped back into play. “Quit digging for compliments, it makes you sound needy.” The corner of our mouth lifted in a Mona Lisa smile before I added, “Can you to take me into town to get Kara?”
Head cocked to the side in query, James wiggled his fingers in the air as he asked, “Can’t you just beam yourself there? What exactly do you mean ‘get Kara’?”
“I could ‘beam’ myself there as you so sweetly put it but I would rather not risk the exposure to Outsiders. As far as Kara goes, I’m going to go get her and straighten her ass out, whether she likes it or not. If I do it, it’ll go better for her since Silver wants to rip Kara a new one and then straighten her out. I’m not that happy with you for keeping how profoundly screwed up she is from us.” My eyes had narrowed down to slits again and this time an emotion I could definitely identify infused James face…anger.
“Are you making some sort of accusation about how I’ve cared for my own sister? First of all, you weren’t even here, you were halfway across the universe doing God knows what and coming back God knows when. What could you have even done, besides worry?” His hands fisted tightly at his sides as he awaited my response.
The living room had gone suddenly and suspiciously quiet. We both realized at the same time and turned to find four sets of eyes steadily observing us. I’d almost forgotten we weren’t alone. Hands held waist high, I discreetly removed a single glove to stuff it in the corresponding front pocket. I reached back a bared hand to uncurl one of James’ fists and entwine our fingers with his. Turning just slightly I murmured to James, “Y’all didn’t move the motor pool around or anything right?”
He looked back in confusion. “No…why?”
<
br /> I raised the arm that wasn’t holding James’ hand in a wave to Malcolm, Maggie, David and what I could barely see of Gerome’s head. Words bright I said, “We’ll be back later…like maybe tomorrow. Don’t wait up, smooches!”
When the area the compound set aside to store all of its vehicles was firmly entrenched in my mind, the room began to blur and I heard James say in a bemused tone, “Smooches?” Then as he realized what I was doing, there came a panicked, “Shit!”
The night sky pieced itself together like a pixilated special effect and the crickets went silent near where we stood, just at the edge of the motor pool with its rows of carefully maintained vehicles. I released James’ hand as he fell to his knees and retched in the grass.
The first few times we teleported it had made us extremely ill but the human body is an amazingly adaptable thing, so the side effects reduced with time. It was better for James to get the sickness out of the way while there wasn’t a life or death situation unfolding, but I felt bad because I hadn’t warned him in my haste to leave the house.
I tried to place a hand on a broad muscular shoulder for comfort but he shrugged it off as he panted, trying to control the nausea that I was sure had his stomach rolling and cramping. My apology came out hastily as if I was afraid he wouldn’t listen once he regained his voice. “I’m sorry about that, really I am! It’s only bad the first few times and then you get used to it. Just give it a few minutes to pass. You’re doing way better than Silver and I did the first time. We passed out for over twenty-four hours but that probably had more to do with the electrocution disrupting our body’s natural functions or maybe our dual nature.”
At the mention of our electrocution, James scrunched his eyebrows together in concentration and in between pants managed to ask, “When…were you…electrocuted?”
I tugged out our missing glove and donned it while I explained. “The day Gerome and Kal rescued us from the Warp Faction. It wasn’t that bad really. The knife in our belly button was worse, but I guess that’s still better than becoming a host for the Soul Eater…silver linings and all that.” I shrugged our shoulders and scanned the lot, looking for the same Suburban we had taken to town years ago.
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