me. Now, I have to make a request.”
He nodded, hesitant and unsure where I was going with this conversation.
“ I need you to fall back.”
He opened his mouth to protest but I didn’t allow it.
“ Feel free to stay close, you can even watch, but do not interfere. This is my undertaking. Allow me to do it without intervening.”
Even while I debated on whether I was deceiving myself in to thinking Eran would actually stay out of the fight I’d elected, I used my appendages to angle myself down towards Fernando’s dwelling. Once there, I drew closer and circled once before landing on the river’s bank.
The walls had long since given way to the weather that regularly crept up from The Gulf and entire boards were missing from every external wall of the house. Moss grew over the remaining ones, draping down from the roof and windowsill of nearly every window. There was no glass and no doors to prevent the elements from entering his home. Peering inside, I found few pieces of furniture, each one looking as if he’d bought them at a flea market over a century ago.
I might have felt sorry for Fernando if he didn’t work as a hit man for mob bosses.
Eerily quiet on the bank of the river with just the wind in the trees and the lapping of the water on the shore, it made me wonder if Fernando had killed or scared off every living thing in the vicinity. The carcasses of dead animals piled against a tree told me that may very well be the case.
I stepped through the brush and closer to the house, noticing that it was actually well lit from inside. Kerosene lamps hung from the rafters giving the place a hazy, yellow glow.
Just as I was within a few yards from it, a giggle began from behind me, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose to their fullest height. It continued as I turned around, seeking the source in the darkness.
It broke in to intermittent snorts as my eyes found Fernando hunched against a tree. His hand was arched over his mouth as if he were ashamed of his giggling.
I stared at him, waiting for him to finish. Already my awareness level had been piqued, drawing in my surroundings through each of my senses. A mosquito buzzed from somewhere inside the house, the scent of rotting wood along the shore enflamed my nose, and, most interesting of all, Fernando Vega’s hand was twitching nervously against his mouth. This one was unlike other Fallen Ones, powerful still, but scared.
“ Maggie…” he said smiling through his giggles. “Such an honor…”
“ Thank you,” I replied almost curtly. I didn’t feel nearly as impressed by him as he did with me and it didn’t bother me to show it.
His giggling settled and then snuffed out all together. Still, he held on to his wide smile. “We crossed paths once…up in Montana.”
I bristled. “Montana was where I was born.”
His grating giggle returned. “And where you died.”
“ What do you know about that?” I asked firmly.
His giggling calmed until it was coming strictly out of his nose, quick and short wisps of air filling the silence.
“ Me?” He slid around the tree and strolled to the next one, never narrowing or widening the distance between us. My appendages stiffened, preparing, although he didn’t seem to notice. “I know all about it…all about it because I was there.”
The hair at the back of my neck suddenly felt as if someone had taken them by the ends and were yanking them out. I ignored them. “What were you doing there?”
“ Watching…” His head tilted up so that he peered at me from under his lashes, that hideous smile lurking beneath the surface of his expression. “Abaddon’s plan was executed perfectly…and Gershom’s timing of that vehicle collision was a work of beauty. Really, it was. In the middle of the night, between Helena and Billings…no one around to assist. It was just that no one accounted for your mother.” He must have caught my look of confusion because he went on to explain. “No one
He nodded, hesitant and unsure where I was going with this conversation.
“ I need you to fall back.”
He opened his mouth to protest but I didn’t allow it.
“ Feel free to stay close, you can even watch, but do not interfere. This is my undertaking. Allow me to do it without intervening.”
Even while I debated on whether I was deceiving myself in to thinking Eran would actually stay out of the fight I’d elected, I used my appendages to angle myself down towards Fernando’s dwelling. Once there, I drew closer and circled once before landing on the river’s bank.
The walls had long since given way to the weather that regularly crept up from The Gulf and entire boards were missing from every external wall of the house. Moss grew over the remaining ones, draping down from the roof and windowsill of nearly every window. There was no glass and no doors to prevent the elements from entering his home. Peering inside, I found few pieces of furniture, each one looking as if he’d bought them at a flea market over a century ago.
I might have felt sorry for Fernando if he didn’t work as a hit man for mob bosses.
Eerily quiet on the bank of the river with just the wind in the trees and the lapping of the water on the shore, it made me wonder if Fernando had killed or scared off every living thing in the vicinity. The carcasses of dead animals piled against a tree told me that may very well be the case.
I stepped through the brush and closer to the house, noticing that it was actually well lit from inside. Kerosene lamps hung from the rafters giving the place a hazy, yellow glow.
Just as I was within a few yards from it, a giggle began from behind me, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose to their fullest height. It continued as I turned around, seeking the source in the darkness.
It broke in to intermittent snorts as my eyes found Fernando hunched against a tree. His hand was arched over his mouth as if he were ashamed of his giggling.
I stared at him, waiting for him to finish. Already my awareness level had been piqued, drawing in my surroundings through each of my senses. A mosquito buzzed from somewhere inside the house, the scent of rotting wood along the shore enflamed my nose, and, most interesting of all, Fernando Vega’s hand was twitching nervously against his mouth. This one was unlike other Fallen Ones, powerful still, but scared.
“ Maggie…” he said smiling through his giggles. “Such an honor…”
“ Thank you,” I replied almost curtly. I didn’t feel nearly as impressed by him as he did with me and it didn’t bother me to show it.
His giggling settled and then snuffed out all together. Still, he held on to his wide smile. “We crossed paths once…up in Montana.”
I bristled. “Montana was where I was born.”
His grating giggle returned. “And where you died.”
“ What do you know about that?” I asked firmly.
His giggling calmed until it was coming strictly out of his nose, quick and short wisps of air filling the silence.
“ Me?” He slid around the tree and strolled to the next one, never narrowing or widening the distance between us. My appendages stiffened, preparing, although he didn’t seem to notice. “I know all about it…all about it because I was there.”
The hair at the back of my neck suddenly felt as if someone had taken them by the ends and were yanking them out. I ignored them. “What were you doing there?”
“ Watching…” His head tilted up so that he peered at me from under his lashes, that hideous smile lurking beneath the surface of his expression. “Abaddon’s plan was executed perfectly…and Gershom’s timing of that vehicle collision was a work of beauty. Really, it was. In the middle of the night, between Helena and Billings…no one around to assist. It was just that no one accounted for your mother.” He must have caught my look of confusion because he went on to explain. “No one
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