Kandice stood in the kitchen making dinner when Jackie stormed in behind her.
"You!" Jackie yelled. "Young lady, will get your ass back in school."
"Excuse me," Kandice asked. "You're in no position to tell me what to do. You've already kicked me out."
"No," Jackie said. "I gave you a deadline to get your life together, dropping out of school is the last straw. Tomorrow morning, you will enroll back in classes, or you will get out."
Kandice threw the spatula into the sink, "Fine! I'll pack my shit and leave."
Blake walked out of his room as she stormed up the stairs, "What's going on?"
"Jackie kicked me out for real this time," she said.
"I'm done with your lies. You're the one deciding to leave!" Jackie yelled. "You're welcome to stay if you're in school, but not if you drop out."
"I'm not in school, and you're not kicking me out," Blake said.
"That's different, sweetie. You need time to adjust. After ..." Jackie paused. "Well, you know."
The whole time that Blake lived there, Kandice had never once heard Jackie mention the hospital. It was as if Jackie thought of it as a black mark on his character.
Kandice looked at Blake with a leave-it-be expression, "It's fine, I've been looking into apartments already and can move into one at the end of the month. I'll find a place until then."
She walked into her room while her aunt kept talking about why it was important for her to be in school. Blake was defending her the best he could, but it was hard to make out what Jackie said while she used her soft voice with him.
Kandice made sure all the essentials were in her duffel bag: clothes, laptop, diaries, and toiletries. It would be easier to come back and get everything else once Jackie wasn't home. Within fifteen minutes she had everything packed, and she walked into the garage. Her aunt tried to stop her, but Kandice refused to listen.
When Jackie grabbed her arm to stop her from leaving, Kandice turned around to face her. "Don't fucking touch me! You want me out, I'm out. I'll have all my things out of your house by the end of the month."
At what point will Jackie understand that her empty threats won't work?
When Kandice pulled out of the garage, Jackie yelled for her to come back. There was nowhere to go, but anywhere was better than there. The strap on the back of her moped didn't quite hold her luggage down, so where ever her final destination would be it wouldn't come in a hurry. It was okay though, her mind needed to decompress. This had been building since the day she moved into Jackie's house, it was only a matter of time before there were no more chances with that woman. At a red light, she took her helmet off and let the wind blow through her hair. The best medicine for an overworked mind was driving with no destination.
After a while, Kandice didn't recognize her surroundings, but Austin roads made it next to impossible to get lost. The sun was setting, and the city was cooling down. With the sweat beading on her forehead the cooler air on her face was tingling her senses.
Kandice kept driving until her gas tank showed empty. She pulled into the first gas station she passed, to fill up. Her only option at this point was to text Lance and see if she could stop by.
Kandice: Can I come over? It's really urgent.
He responded before she'd driven far.
Lance: Of course. You're always welcome.
Apparently he wasn't giving me a cold shoulder.
Without realizing, Kandice had been driving in the general direction of his house the whole time. After his text it only took her ten minutes to get there—even with rush hour traffic.
"So, what's up?" Lance asked.
Kandice sat in her usual spot, "My aunt kicked me out."
Taking in the living room, she realized that while this had been her home once, that wasn't why it felt like home again. Her childhood memories ran deep here, but this feeling of comfort was something more. Lance and Slava were an accepting family—much like her parents before the night that changed her life.
"Why?" he asked.
She explained what happened, and how they argued from the start. Lance listened without interruption. His listening skills were becoming his best quality. Most people would have interrupted throughout, with feedback or questions. It felt good to just vent to someone.
"You can stay here until your apartment is ready, if you like," he said.
"I was hoping you would say that," she said. "Thank you so much."
"Not at all. This was your home first."
She gave Lance a hug, and he held her. They sat in the living room, holding each other for several moments. The tension melted away from her body. His musk filled her being and caused her mind to relax.
Was the smell from cologne or shifting?
Either way it was relaxing.
Kandice broke the hug, "How is Slava doing?"
"He's asleep. I've had to wake him to eat. Other than that, and using the restroom, he's been asleep the whole time."
"What about the wound?"
"It's doing better," he said.
Lance looked glum when he spoke of Slava. No doubt he was holding something back—or lying—but it wasn't her place to push him. He didn't owe her an explanation.
"There's no bed in the spare room," he said. "We can go get you one though."
"I can't take the one from my aunt's. So I'll have to buy a new one. I've wanted a firmer bed anyway."
She smiled, and he offered a half smile in return. She prayed his poor mood was because of Slava, and not from the prospect of her moving in for a short time.
"I can get a truck, if you need to move your things here."
"No, I'll just leave it at my aunt's. I told her I'd have it out by the end of the month. I brought pretty much everything I need, aside from more clothes."
"I was about to cook dinner for Slava," he placed a cutting board on the counter. "Are you hungry? He can only eat soup and soft foods right now, so I can make us something else."
"Anything will be fine with me." She looked at the groceries he laid out, "I'm not the best cook, but I'll help any way I can."
"Nonsense, you're our guest. Slava would never forgive me if I put you to work."
"It's okay. I'm offering." She moved closer to the cutting board, "Besides, I would feel awkward standing around while you cooked."
"If you insist. You can help cut up the vegetables."
Lance pulled out a large cast-iron skillet and a Dutch oven. Inside the fridge was a package of pre-cleaned chicken, and a large array of vegetables—many of which she didn't recognize. Lance poured oil into the skillet and added butter to the pot. He rubbed the chicken down with a spice mix from the top of the fridge and added some of the spices to the oil and melted butter.
The smell of the chicken as it hit the hot oil made Kandice's mouth water.
They chopped vegetables on different cutting boards. Kandice stuck with the carrots, onions, celery, and potatoes, while Lance chopped the greens and other strange ones. After they added all the veggies to the pot, Lance added salt and pepper, and a splash of water. He closed the lid and turned the burner down low.
When he flipped the chicken, the first side had a nice golden crust from where the seasoning had baked onto it. He stirred the pot and made sure the veggies were mixed. The smell was new and inviting.
When the chicken neared done, Lance took it off the skillet. He diced it up into tiny pieces and added it to a bowl. Then, he took a container of heavy whipping cream from the fridge, and coated the chicken with it. After that, he added a little more seasoning, and let it sit.
The pot was simmering so Lance added more water until it covered the veggies. After the water came to a simmer again, he added the chicken and a little more cream.
"This will have to simmer for about an hour," he said.
"Wow," Kandice said. "That's a long time."
"Soup takes time. My mother used to start hers in the morning, and it would cook all day. She would add one item at a time throughou
t the day. My soups are never as good as hers."
"My mom used to make spaghetti. She would spend all day making the sauce from scratch. I never learned how to cook like that."
They stood there in silence, soaking in the aroma. It was the first time she had spoken about her mom without feeling sad. Guilt gripped her heart—it was too soon to have memories of her mother without the accompanying sadness. However, cooking with Lance proved too enjoyable to allow looming sadness take hold of her.
They left the pot simmering on its own to go get Kandice a mattress. There was a store down the street that sold nothing but mattresses, with more options than some car lots. It was puzzling why such a simple item needed so many brands and styles.
The first one that met her firmness needs had a price tag that made her want to lay down again. People could spend more on a mattress than the value of her moped. The salesman moved them to less expensive options.
It only took half an hour to find a firm mattress that wouldn't break the bank. The twin was perfect—it wasn't her forever bed but it would get the job done for the next few years. It almost didn't fit inside Lance's car, observers had to have been laughing at their struggle to get it in. Luckily it was a memory foam mattress, so they were able to fold it in on itself.
When they got back to the house, Kandice took her mattress upstairs while Lance finished the soup.
The room Lance said was empty was her old room.
Did he know?
It was surreal to stand in the middle of the room, her mind could envision all of her posters and furniture. Now the walls were white, and the only furniture in the room was a small desk and chair. Happiness and sadness battled for dominance over her emotions. It brought a few tears to her eyes, but deep down it felt good to be home.
She threw the mattress down in the corner by the window and laid down. Laying so close to the ground felt odd, but it was better than sleeping on the floor. The blank walls didn't bother her like they did at her aunt's house, and the bed formed to her body—lulling her into releasing the built up tension in her back. Her eyes grew heavy, so she popped out of bed.
Downstairs, Lance was ladling up three bowls, "You can start eating, but it might still be hot."
He added ice to the smallest serving and took it into Slava's room.
Kandice didn't want to eat without him—the soup was too hot anyway. She waited for Lance and sat at the bar looking around. So much had changed in the short time since moving out of the house. After a few minutes, she wandered around to take more of it in.
The kitchen was bare. Aside from the TV, the living room was the same as it was during her first visit.
Upstairs, the game room had a desk and chair. There was a laptop on the desk, but the rest of the room was barren. Her brother's old room was most likely where Lance slept, curiosity pushed her to peek inside. It was rather tidy, but Kandice closed the door to respect his privacy before looking in depth. The bathroom was spotless and what used to be the guest room was empty. The walls had fresh white paint instead of the navy blue that used to be there.
A door closed downstairs, and she ended her tour.
Lance was sitting at the bar, blowing on his soup.
"I figured I'd wait for you," she said.
"Thank you."
Kandice sat down next to him and blew on her bowl. The soup was cool enough to eat without burning the roof of her mouth. The flavors of savory meat and sweet vegetables blended to create a symphony in her mouth. Most of the flavors were recognizable, but there was one spice she couldn't identify at all. The greens were bitter, but balanced out the spice.
Each bite was better than the last.
"How's Slava?" Kandice asked when her bowl was about half gone.
"Better. He ate his entire bowl by himself. I think he'll be able to get out of bed in the morning. I gave him some vodka and pills to help him sleep."
"Is it safe to mix those?"
"It says not to. But we've done it before when we need to stay under. It's cheaper than finding tranquilizers."
When they finished eating, Kandice leaned back in her seat to let the hearty meal relax her body. It was only nine, but the day had taken a lot out of her. They said good night to each other and went to bed.
When stuffing her duffel bag, she had added the pillow and a blanket from her bed. It would work for tonight, but first thing tomorrow she would need to buy her own sheets. She laid the blanket on the bed, then laid down and pulled the other half over her.
As sleep came, there were small tears on her cheeks.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Thursday, September 8th
ON THE FIRST MORNING BACK HOME, Kandice awoke to the sun shining straight into her eyes. The cheap blinds did little to block out the rising sun. Her phone showed it was 7:18 AM, as she rubbed her eyes to wake up. The scent of bacon wafted upstairs, followed by coffee—the aroma was enough to convince her body to get up.
She stumbled downstairs in her pants and a shirt.
Lance stared at her.
It might have been better to put on a bra before coming down—her appearance was a total mess—and her nipples were showing through the fitted shirt. It was the first time they'd seen the dressed down side of her.
"Morning," she said with a smile.
Lance smiled back and raised his eyes, "Morning. We have bacon and eggs, and there's coffee in the pot. It doesn't taste great, but it's strong. Slava's almost at full strength. He's taking a shower and will be out soon."
"That's great," she said.
She walked around the bar to pour herself a cup of coffee, to find only two mugs.
Guess they've never had company in the morning.
"Umm, There's only two mugs. Is it okay if I use one?"
"Oh, yeah. Slava doesn't drink coffee most mornings. Says it makes him edgy."
Kandice laughed and poured a large cup of black coffee. The first sip burned her tongue a little, but it didn't matter, nor did the bitterness. As long as the caffeine kicked in and did its job the flavor was just a bonus.
The combination of bacon, rye bread and coffee danced on her tongue. The amount of new foods they were introducing her to was exciting. This would be a much better adventure than school would have been, that was for sure.
She and Lance were sitting on the sectional together when Slava came out of his room. His hair was still wet and slicked back. It was an even darker shade of black than usual, almost like staring into the night.
"Morning, Kandice," he said. "I hear you will be staying with us."
"Yes, sir," Kandice said. "If that's okay with you."
"We would be delighted."
It was relieving to hear him say so. Yesterday amid her trouble, there was little thought given to how Slava would feel about having her as a roommate. He might not get involved in Lance's affairs, but this was his house too. Lance kept stealing glances at her throughout the morning. It was flattering to know the attraction wasn't one-sided. Although, getting involved at a time like this would be a bad idea.
After breakfast, Slava explained how he had been tracking the mayor, and got into a fight with some of his bodyguards. It had been worth it though, because he got a sample of the mayor's pheromones, which would allow them to track him around the city. They could use certain seals to get a visual trail of his scent, and that would let them see where he had been. Lance had used it already to mark locations that the mayor visited that didn't match with where a typical mayor would be.
"I found an Aether Walker hub," Lance said. "There were at least thirty, maybe even fifty of them inside."
"Where?" Kandice asked.
"They're using an old quarry up north," he said. "It looks like the business might still be operational, but there's an old building that's isolated. They keep guards outside. From what I can tell, they're not using their own for protection. It might be a private security firm."
"This means it will be even harder, and more dangerous than we had anticipated," S
lava said. "There is no way Lance and you will be able to do this alone."
"Train me to shift then."
"No," Slava said. "That is not an option. Becoming an oboroten is dangerous and requires extensive training to prepare the body. Some people have died the first time trying."
"Lance?" Kandice asked.
"Slava's right," he said. "It's too dangerous. We might need to get outside help. This goes well beyond what we had thought."
They continued to debate training Kandice and discussed what their next step should be. It was agreed that Kandice and Lance should try to track the mayor to see if they could get close. If there was a point in his routine where he was less guarded—and not as visible to the public—they may have a chance. Slava believed the gathering of Aether Walkers was only due to the mayor's presence, and if they killed him, the others would hopefully leave the city in fear.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Friday, September 9th
LANCE HAD TRADED OUT SLAVA'S CAR for a compact SUV—which sat a little higher off the ground—offering a more comfortable ride. The back windows were tinted black allowing zero visibility. Handy, if they needed to transport something—or someone—discreetly. They had replaced the front console with a mounted tablet and laptop.
"The tablet is connected to google maps," Lance said. "It should help keep us ahead of traffic. The laptop uses a satellite card so we can access the GPS tracking program. Assuming we get the tracker on his car."
With Slava's discovery, they could now see the mayor's scent: a yellow tinted mist that dissipated within an hour. It would be enough to locate him during a pursuit, but not track him daily. His car would have to be bugged for long-term tracking.
That's where the small black box came in.
The plan was to attach it to the mayor's SUV and transmit the GPS location along with the speed of movement. It would be tough to get the box on the vehicle, but with any luck, tonight would reward their vigilance.
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