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The Crimes of Orphans

Page 30

by Obie Williams


  The room had French doors that opened to a small balcony overlooking the street two floors below. Rain stepped out long enough to pick up the potted fig tree there, then carried it to the bathroom. Lita and Jonas both watched him quizzically as he yanked the tree—root ball and all—from its pot and placed it carefully in the toilet. He disappeared from view then as he took the pot over to the bathtub.

  “I’m going to have to pay for whatever mess he makes, goddammit,” Jonas muttered. He heard the shower come on, followed by the hollow drumming of water spraying inside the ceramic pot. Then there was a swirling and a splash. Rinse and repeat.

  “I think that’s the least of your worries,” Lita said. “You’d do best to just start talking now, before he finishes whatever he’s doing.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

  “Sure you do. I asked you plain as day in the bar, so stop wasting time…especially yours, which might be pretty fucking short.” Lita kept her eyes on the bathroom. Rain reappeared, snatched a towel off the wall, and carefully dried the clean pot. He then took the lone glass from the basin sink, filled it with water, and returned to the center of the bedroom. He set the glass of water on the side table and knelt in front of Jonas with the pot.

  “I should have ordered more than water at the bar,” Jonas mused. Lita nodded in agreement.

  Rain removed Jonas’ shoes and set them aside, then did away with his socks as well. Jonas leaned forward as best he could, trying to see what Rain was doing. Using the blade of his staff, Rain carefully cut off Jonas’ pants below the knee, turning them into shorts. Jonas didn’t protest about his clothes this time. His breathing got heavier by the minute, and he could feel the hair on his neck growing damp with sweat. He watched as Rain lifted his legs just enough to slip his feet inside the pot and set it down on the floor. Then he stood.

  Jonas wiggled his toes, feeling the cold, rough ceramic beneath them. He turned his eyes to Rain who just stood by the side table, looking down at him. Jonas wanted to shrink away from that gaze, and he felt his throat grow suddenly dry and tight.

  Rain stayed that way for what seemed like ages, just staring at Jonas, staring into him. Jonas’ breath grew ragged at the sight of those unwavering dark blue eyes. Even Lita shifted from one foot to the other, her stomach knotting with anticipation.

  Then, moving suddenly, Rain grabbed the lamp’s cord and yanked it from the base. The bulb immediately went black, and though the ceiling lamps above and in the bathroom still gave plenty of light, to Jonas the room seemed much darker.

  Rain held up the lamp cord—parallel sheathed wires splitting off at frayed copper ends—and slowly peeled the two wires apart until he had a few feet of give between them. Then, leaning forward, he held those wires out towards Jonas’ face. Jonas squinted and leaned back as best he could. Still staring at Jonas with that emotionless intensity, Rain touched the two exposed wires together briefly. There was a pop and sparks showered over Jonas’ chest. He flinched this time as the room was momentarily bathed in stark white light and long, stretching shadows. Shadows that appeared to loom over him in a wide circle, waiting like vulturous wraiths for his pain to begin.

  Lita took a step back and thought that Rain had better remember what she said about killing Jonas. She told herself that she was pretty sure she could trust him, and was immediately startled by how certain she really was. She might have explored the notion further, but her train of thought was interrupted by the acrid smell of burning metal. She wrinkled her nose and waved a hand in front of her face.

  Rain had picked up the roll of medical tape and knelt by Jonas’ feet. Jonas didn’t watch. He didn’t want to. His stomach was already turning. Lita did watch, however, and with keen interest as Rain taped the end of one of the wires to the inside wall of the pot, a couple inches above Jonas’ bare feet. He then stood back up, put down the tape, grabbed the glass of water, and unceremoniously threw its contents in Jonas’ face.

  Jonas coughed and sputtered, shaking his head in attempt to clear his eyes. He felt something touching his chest, but by the time his vision had cleared it was already finished. He coughed one last time and looked down to see the other wire taped to his sternum.

  When Jonas looked back up, Rain was standing before him, rolling that staff back and forth between his palms. Occasionally, the blade would catch the light and shimmer. Lita had retreated a few paces. She stood near the bathroom door now, her arms crossed, watching silently.

  “Hello, Jonas,” Rain said calmly.

  “Hi,” Jonas croaked, then cleared his throat.

  “Jonas, we are going to have a very simple conversation in which you are going to answer some questions. If at any time I feel you are avoiding that conversation, there will be a consequence. Am I at all unclear?”

  “I don’t know anything you want to know,” Jonas replied.

  Without a word, Rain knelt down, reached behind Jonas’ left leg, and drew the blade quickly across his calf. Jonas hissed in a sharp breath and felt wetness begin to course down his leg.

  Rain stood once again. “It was a simple yes or no question, Jonas. I haven’t time for circles. As soon as you answer my questions, you will be set free and we will be on our way. Lita has asked me not to kill you, and so long as I learn what I need to know, I can fulfill her request. But if you keep trying to give me the runaround, eventually your blood is going to hit that wire and our conversation will be over. Now, are you going to answer my questions?”

  Jonas took a deep breath and tried to shut out the pain in his leg as he considered how to answer. After a moment, he said, “That depends on what they are.”

  Rain frowned, then nodded. “Fair. First, where did Cleric take Alex and Amelie?”

  “Alex is the blond kid that was with you, right?” Jonas asked. Rain started kneeling down again. “Hey, it’s a fair question! I need to know who I’m telling you to find, right?”

  Rain paused and looked up at Jonas. “Do you have any reason to believe I’d be talking about anyone else?”

  “No,” Jonas replied. Rain cut a slit in the other leg. Jonas cried out this time. Lita shifted her stance uncomfortably. This wasn’t her style.

  “I don’t like repeating myself. Answer the question.” Rain warned.

  “You don’t understand,” Jonas said, “You don’t know what you’d be walking into if you…”

  Rain was already reaching for his legs again.

  “Rain, wait. Let him finish,” Lita said, stepping forward. “If he knows something that we need to prepare for, we should—” she clenched her teeth as Rain carved another tally into Jonas’ calf. A trickling sound started coming from the pot as blood began to pool around Jonas’ feet.

  “Please,” Jonas said, his voice cracking, “Listen to me. If you go down there, you’ll both die, and they’ll still be just as dead. There’s no way you can—” his words broke off in a sharp cry as Rain opened a fourth gash in his flesh.

  Lita was on them then, moving quickly. She grabbed Rain by the elbow, tugging on his arm to pull him away. “Stop it, Rain! We can’t find out anything if you don’t let him talk!”

  Rain turned on her in a flash. Bolting to his feet, he took up a fistful of her shirt and pushed her across the room, shoving her against the wall by the front door. He slammed the blunt end of his staff against the wall inches from her ear, and his eyes flickered violet as he came nose-to-nose with her. “I will bleed him dry if that’s what it takes,” he growled.

  “Hey! Let her the fuck go!” Jonas yelled with renewed strength as he struggled futilely against his bonds.

  Lita’s initial shock was quickly replaced by rage. She delivered a sharp jab to Rain’s sternum, then grabbed his shirt and turned with him, slamming his back against the wall. “That is the second time you have pinned me against a fucking wall! There will not be a third!”

  Rain’s eyes shifted instantly back to blue, and though dizziness made his head swim momentarily, a small smirk appea
red on his face. “That was the third, by my count,” he said quietly.

  Lita’s cheeks flushed a deep red, but she held her ground, glaring at him. A tense moment passed, and then Rain whispered, “Dance with me.”

  She squinted at him, confused, but let him go and took a step back. He gestured to Jonas and she nodded, then turned to head back to their subject. As soon as her back was to him, Rain grabbed her ponytail in a tight fist, yanked her head back, and put his blade to her throat.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Lita cried in a strained voice. All at once, that newly discovered trust in this man, which had seemed so profound only moments before, was suddenly transformed into a tenuous dike trying hold back the flood of over a decade’s worth of honed survival instincts. It didn’t matter that her rational mind knew this was all an act (is it? what if it isn’t?), she was already planning the head butt, elbow jab, wrist break, and gun draw that would get her out of this. It didn’t matter that she was pretty sure he meant her no harm (how sure? sure enough? he’s a fucking vampire, Lita, and he’s got a fucking knife to your…), she was already calculating how long she could remain conscious and able to fight if he nicked her artery. So with all her strength, she began to struggle…not against Rain, but against all the forged fibers of her being that were screaming at her to (kill that motherfucker before he can touch you again) actually fight back.

  “Let her go you piece of shit!” Jonas hollered. He started thrashing harder, and the chair began to rock.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Rain said calmly. “If you splash blood on that wire, you won’t be saving anybody. Now, do I have your attention?”

  “Let her go!” Jonas screamed.

  “Then answer my question. You say we’ll die if we go. You don’t care if I die, so what you mean is she’ll die. So if I just kill her right now, then you don’t have anything to worry about.” Rain moved the blade slightly, drawing a small trickle of blood from Lita’s neck.

  Her muscles flared with burning intent, the surging waves of instinct battering that little dam, causing it to creak and groan against the onslaught. Her hands went to Rain’s forearm and his own blood sprang forth as she dug her nails into his flesh so hard her knuckles turned ghostly white.

  “No!” Jonas cried, seeing the blood run down Lita’s neck. “Stop doing that!”

  “Then answer my question. Hell, she probably won’t even go with me after this, and if she still does she at least stands a chance. You keep your mouth shut and she dies for sure. Last chance, Jonas. Where is my brother?”

  Jonas blinked. “Your…” he paused briefly, then said, “The Blacklands. They’re in the Blacklands.”

  Rain released Lita and she shoved him away with her elbow, then spun around to glare at him as she put a hand to her neck. His expression was pained, regretful, and he began to mouth an apology but she turned away. Just looking at him was keeping her tempestuous rage thrashing against the weakened dike. She stormed over to her bag, dug out her vodka and a small medical kit, then headed to the bathroom, intent on assessing her wound and dampening her almost irresistible urge to throw Rain over the balcony.

  “Nobody goes there,” she hollered out at Jonas as she surveyed her neck in the bathroom mirror. She wasn’t about to sideline herself from a conversation she had just bled for. “Why the fuck would they?”

  “What is Michael planning?” Rain added.

  Jonas sighed and looked down, shaking his head.

  “Don’t screw around, Jonas,” Lita said, appearing in the doorway, a washrag against her neck in one hand, open bottle in the other. “I know you know. Cleric thought we never knew his plans, but you’ve been peeking at his logbooks since I was still on cleanup. Tell us what’s happening.” She took a strong swig and checked the rag for blood volume.

  “He’s going to kill them all,” Jonas said quietly, his eyes not moving from his lap.

  “Kill whom?” Rain asked.

  “The Gifted,” Jonas whispered.

  Rain and Lita exchanged a look. “How?” Lita asked.

  Jonas took a deep breath and raised his head. “Michael has this glove, like the kind a knight would wear. A…gauntlet, that’s the word. I don’t know where the hell he got it, but I know what it can do. It’s a weapon. When he wears it, he can create this ball of energy and cast it at a person, and if they’re in any way not human, it burns them up from the inside.” He shuddered. “I’ve seen it done to a vampire. Even for a bloodrat, that’s no way to die.” He paid Rain a glance, and Rain nodded.

  “How does he intend to kill all the Gifted with it?” Rain pressed.

  “He and Cleric had this big construct built—down in the Blacklands where nobody would find it—and it’s supposed to take the glove’s energy and set it off like a bomb. They say it’ll cover the Earth, leaving only pure humans left alive.”

  “That would kill you, dumbshit,” Lita said. “Why would you go along with that?”

  Jonas nodded down toward his odd necklace. “This is a piece of the glove. It’ll protect me from the blast. Michael wasn’t happy about it, but Cleric insisted.”

  Rain leaned forward and reached out to inspect the necklace, but as soon as he touched it there was a sizzling sound and he hissed, snatching his hand away. A thin puff of smoke rose from his fingertips.

  “It’s a blessed artifact. Didn’t I mention that?” Jonas said with a smirk.

  Rain glared at him. “What’s my brother got to do with this? Why did they take him?”

  Jonas had become acutely aware that his legs were starting to throb. “Would you mind unplugging me? I can’t tell if I’m still filling this pot and—”

  “Answer my question or you’ll be getting some fresh cuts,” Rain warned.

  Jonas leaned forward, trying to see his feet, then looked to Lita. She nodded reassuringly and gestured for him to continue, so he sighed and went on. “I have no idea why they took him; I wasn’t there and I came straight here after locking you two up back at the cemetery. Maybe they wanted him as insurance in case you two came after them, or maybe he knew something they wanted to know, or…” he paused, his brow furrowing, “…no. Could he?” he said, mostly to himself.

  “Could he what?” Lita asked.

  “Well, for Michael’s plan to work, he needed more than just the glove and that building. Cleric said they were looking for something called the Catalyst. It’s the thing that concentrates the glove’s energy and then detonates it. Trouble was, they didn’t know what form it was in. Could be a jewel, a shrub, anything. Cleric once said it might even be a person. If Alex is it, and the Visgaer saw him—”

  “The what?” Rain asked. He glanced back at Lita, but she shrugged.

  Jonas sighed, annoyed and antsy to get out of this chair. “You want the long version or the short one?”

  “Short,” Rain said.

  “Six-and-a-half-foot-tall demon hunting hound. Monster. Claws, fangs, the whole package. Psychic, telekinetic, deadly. Ugly as a bag of smashed assholes. Good?”

  Rain nodded.

  “Anyway, Cleric was expecting it to find the Catalyst today, even with all this shit going on. If your brother is the key, it’d explain why they took him alive.”

  “Why would it be my brother?”

  “No clue. All I know is that it was supposed to be special in some way. It was pre…pre…”

  “Predestined?” Lita offered.

  “That’s the one,” Jonas said.

  Rain shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Alex isn’t out of the ordinary. He’s not a Gifted, he doesn’t even have our familial power. He—”

  “Came back from the dead,” Lita said. Rain looked at her. “I’d call that pretty fucking out of the ordinary.”

  “Do you think that’s it?” Rain asked.

  She shrugged. “No clue, but it also doesn’t matter. Obviously this thing hasn’t gone down yet because you’re still standing, so why don’t we just focus on finding them and worry about the rest later?
” She turned her attention to Jonas. “How do we get to the Construct and what kind of forces does Cleric have down there?”

  “There’s a map in my bag by the door and you’ll have Cleric, the Visgaer, that Michael creep, and at least ten vampires. Maybe a dozen. Although, they may not be all that loyal to Cleric. He had them build the Construct, but they didn’t exactly do it willingly.”

  Lita nodded. Vampire slave labor was, surprisingly, not unheard of. They were strong, didn’t have to sleep, and could be controlled with the right exploitation of weaknesses. But no matter their loyalty, that still stood to make for some pretty ugly odds for her and Rain. “Alright, last question and then you’re off the hook. When’s this supposed to go down?”

  “At the height of the lunar eclipse today. It’s right at at dawn, which gives you…”

  “Less than five hours,” Rain finished.

  “Better hurry. It’s almost a four-hour drive just to get down there.”

  “Why the eclipse?” Lita asked.

  “I thought I was off the hook,” Jonas said.

  “Humor me.”

  “Who knows? Maybe Michael was busy for brunch. Does it matter?”

  “I guess not,” Lita said. She grabbed the lamp cord and yanked it out of the wall outlet. Jonas had only a moment to breathe a sigh of relief before Lita grabbed his shoulder and tipped him over backwards in the chair. He landed with a thud and a groan, feeling his full weight land on his hands and forearms. Lita knelt and freed his chest and legs from their bonds, then retied the strips of fabric around his upper calves, just tight enough to slow his bleeding some. Then she rose to her feet and looked down at him. “I’m sure you can get out of the rest yourself, but I’d wait a while until your legs stop bleeding.” She turned to pack up her things.

  Having found the map in Jonas’ bag, Rain pocketed it and walked over to him. He placed one heavy boot on the center of Jonas’ chest and leaned down, his eyes furious. “You are only alive because Lita requested it, but you helped plan a genocide. If I see you again, she will not stop me from spending days killing you.”

 

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