by A. P. Moraez
A chuckle came from his left. Nate was smiling. “It’s… peculiar, isn’t it?” he murmured, eyes still focused on his phone. “When it dries on your skin.”
Ash didn’t know if peculiar was the right word for it. For now, the only thing he knew was that it was disgusting. He tensed when he registered the implications of the man’s words.
“So you know how it feels?”
Nate glanced at him briefly, his smile stretching a bit more, but didn’t answer.
Ash exhaled heavily and turned his eyes back to the window. The car had entered a side road. Paved and darker than the sky, wider than the neighborhood streets.
“How much longer?”
“In fact,” Nate said, pocketing the device and pulling at his suit, “we’ve arrived.”
Ash’s eyes widened and he turned back to the window. Sure enough, they were circling a well-composed garden and… Ash gasped.
A beautiful Victorian house, the likes of which he’d only seen in history books or movies they were showed at school. So many windows; no light. The inside was as dark as the outside walls, a mix of brick and old wood all coated in different tones of brown. It was difficult to see details, since the only font of light was the bright moon above, but Ash caught at least two rain porches spaced by huge arched windows. That on the first floor of the two-story mansion. The second floor held balconies of different sizes, supported by pillars — some ran to the very ground he was stepping in, some ended on the first floor. It was gorgeous and opulent, but also intimidating. There was also an attic. Or was that a third floor? Maybe it was. It was tall enough to hold conventional rooms. Triangular windows sprouted out of it here and there.
“You go ahead and let father know I’m back. We’ll be in shortly.”
“Sir,” was all the driver said before rushing out to obey.
Ash caught a glimpse of the inside of the house when the man opened the heavy wooden doors without knocking. Light came from it; orange — the kind that would come from a fire.
“You live here?” Ash asked, attention back to Nate.
“I do, and so do others.”
“Others?”
“My father and sister and other kids like… you.”
“So this is like what? An orphanage? A shelter?”
A faint smile crossed Nate’s lips. “You could say that.”
“Why’d you bring me here? You saw what I did.”
“I did.”
Ash snorted. “And then you brought me to a place filled with kids.”
Nate rolled his eyes. “Ash, you were defending yourself.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Just an educated guess.”
“So, what? Just like that you’d let me live here?”
“Not quite yet.”
Ash rose both eyebrows at him, beyond confused.
“In a few minutes, when we cross those doors, you’ll be interviewed. My father will ask you some questions and, if you answer the right answers, he’ll offer you a place here.”
Ash wasn’t feeling comfortable with this. He didn’t trust rich people.
“And if I don’t want it?”
Nate’s eyebrows were the ones rising this time. “You’d prefer going back to the streets?”
Ash’s stomach chose that exact moment to let out an embarrassing rumble.
“Look, you won’t be kept here against your will. Just answer his questions and hear him out. If he likes you, you can stay. If you don’t want to, you don’t need to, but I’m sure what we have here beats living out there.”
Ash just breathed for a few moments and considered his options.
“How do I know what the right answers are?”
Nate sighed as he opened the door and got out. “You don’t”
Ash followed him. He probably threw the door shut with more force than needed, but to hell with it. This was getting beyond creepy. He was cold, hungry, tense and grossed out by the stickiness of the blood in his hands. He just wanted to get this over with so he could know what to do with his life next.
“Great help, you are,” he muttered as he marched toward the front doors, his strides leaving Nate behind.
He was pulled to a stop when Nate caught him by the sleeve of his shirt.
Ash fixed his eyes directly on the man’s. To his surprise, Nate was back to smiling. “Just a heads up,” he murmured, “whatever you do, don’t lie to him. He’s good at spotting liars, and he hates them.”
Ash swallowed, knocked sideways by Nate’s candor. After a few seconds, he gave the man a firm nod.
Nate released him.
They’d just turned around, facing the front doors, when they opened and the driver was standing back in front of them. “Your father awaits in his office, sir.”
Nate gave the man a short nod. They climbed the stone steps side by side and Nate pushed the door open for them. Ash followed.
As he’d suspected, there was a fire lit on the far wall to his right. Its light played over the dark wood he could see under thick rugs that followed from a couple feet from the front doors until they reached the first step of a wide set of stairs that probably led to the second floor.
Embroidered tapestries decorated the walls, from above the fireplace to the darkened hallways that led to rooms to the side of the foyer and living room, where they now stood. There were also some pipes circling the room. It was clear that whoever it was that had been responsible for the decoration of the place had done their best to blend them in with the vintage design, but some of them were still visible here and there between tapestries and sculptures and old paintings. Probably some antiquated heating system, but Ash was glad for it. He was already feeling way warmer than just a few minutes ago.
But what really caught his eyes were the stained glass windows above. So many colors, so many images. Some of them, from what he could see, were abstract. Shapes and dashes of color over the glass reflecting the moonlight. A couple here and there had distinct forms to them, like cherubs floating amid clouds; men and women running through forests. And when the faint light coming from outside touched them, light beams of different colors met the light of the fireplace and the effect it created was simply astounding.
“Follow me.”
Distracted as he’d been, it took a couple seconds for Ash to get moving. The stairs were as dark as the floor below, but richly carved with floral shapes. Patterns he’d never seen before anywhere else, not even in history books. Nate didn’t give him time to check things better, though. He flew through the stairs and took the ones leading to the right. Ash was too afraid of being left behind, so he tightened his step.
The man led him through a long, long hallway. This one also contained a few windows of stained glass. Albeit smaller, they were also richly decorated. Soon they reached a section of the hall where they were replaced by doors and darkness, though. Probably bedrooms, since Nate told him there were other kids living here.
They finally got to the end of the hall. Subtle light came from the thin gap between the bottom and the floor, and the realization that he was about to meet Nate’s father twisted Ash’s insides.
Two quick knocks later and Nate opened the door.
Ash’s eyes were immediately pulled to the man behind the large mahogany desk. The fact that the man was dressed in a full navy-blue three-piece didn’t even surprise him at this point. Not when the driver himself had been wearing pretty much the same. Clearly, he’d been writing something up to the moment Nate opened that door; he still had the pen in hand, hovering over the paper. When he saw them standing there, however, he smiled and rose, and Ash froze on the spot.
The man’s tan skin ran for miles and miles of defined, hard muscle. The power they contained was visible even through the layers of clothing. Ink circled his neck and what was visible of his forearms, exposed, as the man had rolled up both sleeves; some words and shapes that Ash was too tired to try and make sense of.
Ash couldn’t stop blatantly staring at th
e man’s chiseled jaw and deep laughter lines as he ate the distance between them with elegant steps. The similarities between Nate and his father were surely there, only the older man had fairer blond hair and a light shade of icy-blue coloring his eyes.
He finally stopped in front of them with an extended hand. “Leonardo Lazarus,” he said with a soft, but firm voice.
Ash was about to grip his hand when he remembered both of his were covered in blood. And so he was there, frozen like a statue, arm in the air, shaking, in front of a man with the power to decide his fate.
Leonardo laughed and the sound added to the shaking in Ash’s arm. Then he did the unexpected and reached for Ash’s hand.
“Just a little blood. It runs in all of us.”
Ash did his best to respond the firm grip with one of his own. Nate’s dad had warm hands, but the contact sent chills all over his arm. Ash couldn’t decide if they were good or bad.
“Ash,” he said, but it came out too affected, so he cleared his throat and repeated, “Ash Reid. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Lazarus.”
The man laughed again. “Just call me Leo.”
Ash nodded, not quite knowing what to do with himself.
Leo walked back to his chair and sat down. “Come in, boys. Let’s chat.”
Ash threw a nervous look at Nate, but all the guy did was give him what Ash was beginning to think was his permanent lopsided little smile and point to one of the two upholstered chairs across his father.
When they were both seated, Leo steepled his hands in front of him and asked his son, “So, where’d you find this one?”
“Under that old viaduct east from downtown. You know? That one close to the St. Alvarus?”
Leo nodded, signing for his son to continue.
“We were doing rounds. Crossed through there and saw this one stabbing an old man to death.”
Leo turned to Ash with questioning eyes.
“It was self-defense! I swear! He tried to rape me!”
Leo didn’t answer for a moment, pale eyes studying him intensely. Then he nodded curtly. “I believe you.” He was silent for a moment, before he asked, “How’d you end up sleeping under that viaduct, Ash?”
Ash’s cheeks burned and he shrugged. “It’s the first place I found. Seemed good enough to have a few hours’ sleep.”
“So, you’re homeless.”
Ash was about to retaliate with biting words, when he realized that’d be dumb. Nothing emptier than words you had to make yourself believe in. That was what he was, and that was what he should call himself.
Just low-class filth.
“Yes, I am.”
Leo’s intelligent eyes glinted with something akin to approval.
“But why? Where’s your family?”
“Dead.”
“No relatives we can help you find? Friends?”
Ash’s hands fisted on his lap as sapphires flashed before his eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek. “None.”
Leo cast his eyes down to the desk, nodding to himself. “Has Nate told you about what we do here?”
“Vaguely.”
“There’s not much to it, really,” Leo said with a smile. “Let’s just say I have more money than I know what to do with, so I choose to help young men like you out of the unfortunate path life has thrown you into.”
“So, what? You just pluck kids out of the streets?”
“Basically.”
“And you feed them and give them a place to stay?”
“And also help them continue their formal education and improve their chances at a dignified future.”
“Even killers like me?”
There was that glint in Leo’s eyes again.
“You told me yourself you only killed in self-defense. If anything, it makes you… admirable.”
“What’s the catch?”
“The catch?” Leo asked, throwing Nate a confused look.
Ash shrugged. “No one just helps people out of the goodness of their hearts. It’s not how the world works, especially in this town.”
The tips of Leo’s lips turned up. “I know how… acerbic Tompas might feel sometimes, but I guarantee you, there’s no catch.”
Ash snorted. “There’s gotta be something you want out of it.”
“Well, if it helps to soothe you, there is something I’d demand of you in return, if you were to live under my roof and eat out of my table.
“Loyalty.”
“Loyalty?”
“Let’s just say there might come a time when I might need you just as much as you need my help right now.”
Of course there was. Once, he’d believed the world was a better place. A place where one could belong anywhere; to be anything they wanted. He wasn’t a child anymore. If there was anything he’d learned in the last few weeks was that he could trust nobody and that everybody wants something.
“So, what do you say? Should I instruct Nate to take you to your new room or back to where he found you?”
Father and son were dead silent, waiting for the words that would change Ash’s future forever. And guess what? He didn’t even have that much of an option. Exhausted, Ash exhaled in defeat. “I’m gonna need a shower first.”
IF ANYTHING, THE house was even quieter than before when they left Leo’s office. The fire downstairs had clearly been put out and the absence of the sound of logs crackling left him with only the groans an old house like this was bound to produce.
Nate led him to one of the many doors, this one more or less in the middle of the hall, near the stairs. “Eric is asleep. Try to be quiet in the bathroom.”
“Eric?”
“Your roommate.”
Oh. Okay. Ash tried really hard not to think too much of it, but it was incredibly difficult to just brush off having a roommate in a house where every child was, as Nate had mentioned, like him. If he’d gotten the memo right, every kid here was at the very least problematic; possibly murderers. And now he was going to share a room with one. Ash gave himself a mental shake. It was this or living out on the streets, where people would try to murder him too. At least here he got to get murdered in what he was hoping would be a comfortable bed.
The door opened smoothly, not even a light creaking to it. Heavy curtains blocked the light coming from the large windows to the left. Eric slept quietly in one of the twins in the opposite side of the room. It was impossible to see properly, since the only light came from a small crack through the curtains, but Eric had an impressive mop of curly hair. Some posters hung right above his bed; some band Ash probably didn’t know. He’d have to take a better look in the morning. Other than that, it was a pretty simple room: one tall wardrobe, a couple nightstands next to each bed and a door to the side that was probably the bathroom Nate had mentioned.
“I’ll get someone to bring some clean clothes to you. They’ll leave it on the bed.” He nudged Ash toward the bathroom. “Go on, you have just a few hours of sleep before breakfast.”
“What time is breakfast?”
“Seven sharp. You miss it, you only get to eat again at lunch.”
“And what time is it?”
Nate’s phone screen lit under his gaze. “Four.”
Ash wanted to cry for his unfortunate luck, and he wanted to go back in time so that he could murder that bastard all over again. Surviving tomorrow with less than four hours of sleep would be hell.
He did none of that, though. He just nodded. “Alright. Thanks.”
“No problem. Good night, Ash.”
“Good night.”
THE FOG OF sleep was heavy, but the soft voice came through it just the same. Ash squeezed his eyes with all his might, trying to mentally shoo it away. No luck.
“Seriously, dude. You don’t wanna wait for lunch on an empty stomach.”
Ash winced when the mattress of his bed under the windows dipped and light erupted all around him. It was a bright, sunny day, and Ash wanted to die.
“C’mon, man. Get up.” When the hand
shoved him lightly on the shoulder, Ash coiled back and sat up against the wall. He blinked a couple times, then rubbed his eyes to clear his vision.
Eric had only pajama pants on. He was pulling a long-sleeved shirt over his head. It got stuck on his thick mop of dark-brown curly hair for a few seconds before the boy’s face reappeared.
“You’re Eric,” Ash stated before throwing both legs over the edge of the bed.
“Yep, that’s me.”
“I’m Ash.”
“Cool.”
“You don’t seem too nervous about waking up to a total stranger sleeping in the same bedroom as you.”
The boy was like a tornado, putting on one shoe at the same time he got a black backpack from under his bed and opened the zipper. “You’re not the first.”
The way he said that had Ash wandering how many others had come before him. And, more importantly, where they were now. He stored those questions in a corner of his mind, for later.
“What’s the rush?”
“Dude, we have three minutes to get ready and get downstairs for breakfast. You don’t know how fast those sons of bitches can snuff down food.” He threw Ash a frustrated look. “You better get moving or you gonna eat crumbs.”
Ash sighed heavily and finally stood. He winced. Everything hurt, from the bottom of his feet to his very scalp. Last night had been rough and, on top of everything, he had barely had any shut-eye before Eric was stomping all over him. The worst was his back. Weeks and weeks of sleeping in different kinds of hard stone had gotten him used to being stiff all night. The soft mattress of his new bed was definitely something he’d have to get used to.
“Well, I don’t have any other clothes or a toothbrush or anything, so I suppose I’ll just wash my face and then I’ll head down.”
“You do have one,” Eric corrected as he finished lacing his other shoe. “A toothbrush, I mean.”
“No, I don’t.”
The boy side-eyed him. “There’s a green one in there, and it sure as hell ain’t mine. Mine is the purple one.”
“Oh. Great,” was all Ash managed to say, surprised. “That’s great. So, um… I guess I’ll take care of my business and I’ll see you downstairs, then.”
