I heard Uncle Paul’s voice, even if I didn’t have an angle to see him. I’d destroyed the front windows beyond the point that I could occupy them. “They’d like to see Rose. It’s time to go.”
“Think twice before you force my friends out,” Rose said. “They’re able to tell you who and what to watch out for. If you’re smart, you’ll bow and scrape and at least pretend to be nice to them.”
She passed by me, and gave me a sidelong glance.
Evan took flight before Rose was out the door, returning inside.
“I’m going to take James to the hospital, make sure he doesn’t need more attention,” Aunt Jessica said. “Watch the house. Roxanne, stay for now.”
“Sure,” Peter said, smiling. “I’ll look after her.”
Aunt Jessica gave him a look. “Kathryn? Can you look after things as the adult here? Keep an eye on Rox?”
“I’ll watch her,” Kathryn said, sounding unimpressed. Roxanne shot her oldest sister a look. There was nearly a twenty-year difference between them.
The door closed. Aunt Jessica and James gone.
“…Coward,” Peter threw a final retort. Sharp tongued as ever.
Kathryn, at thirty-two, was the most senior cousin among those who’d remained. I was honestly surprised she’d stayed, given she had the excuse of a baby to look after.
Callan flinched as Evan flew by. Not a fan of birds, apparently.
Callan was two years younger than Kathryn, taller, stronger, and narrower. Molly’s older brother. He looked vaguely uncomfortable. was it because this was the house his sister had spent so much time in before she died? Or because he didn’t like what Rose had insinuated about it being murder? Things had been glossed over magically, but the dissonance was real. If it weren’t for Christoff, his younger brother, I suspected he wouldn’t be holding it together as well as he was. Both of Callan’s hands rested on Christoff’s shoulders.
I didn’t know much about Christoff. When I’d ran away, he’d still been wearing footie pyjamas. He hadn’t evinced much personality in the short run-ins I’d had with him.
Ellie, with tattoos far less cool than my own, more a hodgepodge blend of different tattoos that didn’t flow together. The sort of look one picked up if they allowed themselves to be practice for a tattooer friend. A novice tattooer’s doodles more than tattoos with theme or thought put into them. She still hung back in the living room, lying on the couch where Rose’s parents had sat with the baby, far from the window. Four years older than me and Rose, she looked younger and smaller than Rose, just by virtue of a slight slouch. I’d likened her to a weasel in appearance. She had an extensive criminal record, but had managed to avoid doing too much time. Aunt Steph’s natural talent and lessons in gaming the system turned to simply getting away with shit.
Peter, Ellie’s younger brother, was at the far end of the room, almost completely opposite me. He’d never been as outgoing as Ellie, nor quite so lazy as his mother. From what I’d been able to pick up in conversations with Paige, he coasted through life on natural talent and intelligence. If anyone got in his way, be they teacher, fellow student or whoever, he made them regret it. Ellie was more the type to hit someone. Peter would have had made teachers cry.
I remember how he’d made his own twin sister cry. They’d gone in to see grandmother together, and he’d left Paige devastated.
And Roxanne… Roxanne looked oddly at ease, all things considered. I wasn’t about to toss around words like sociopath, but… well, when the time had come for her to tell very specific, very loaded lies about people in the interest of maneuvering for the inheritance, she’d done it without flinching. She seemed remarkably calm, considering how spooked and bloody her older brother had been, and all the talk of danger that had been bandied about.
Alexis, Tiff, and Ty, I noticed were standing on the stairs at the end of the hall.
“You’re staying?” Alexis asked.
“Rose was trying to convince us to be nice to you and not force you out,” Peter said.
“She’d be right,” Alexis said. “There’s two kids in town who’re the children of a professional killer. One has bombs.”
“Bulllllshit,” Callan said, drawing out the word. “I lived in this town for most of my life, if you think I’m going to buy that-”
“Then don’t,” Ty said.
“I believe you,” Peter said.
Ty’s eyebrows went up.
“I have other questions,” Peter said. “Like how the fuck do you guys know Rose?”
“We met in Toron-”
“Or,” Peter said, “Why is Rose different? That’s kind of the same question. Because the Rose I knew was a no-life sad sack loser with no friends.”
“Right now, here, she’s been fighting for her life because of a thing her grandmother set into motion,” Alexis said. “We’ve been helping her.”
“Oh, I see,” Peter said. “You have certain talents that make you indispensable when there’s a threat of something like arson or murder?”
“Um, basically,” Tiff said, looking like the exact opposite of a person who had ‘indispensable talents’.
“This is ridiculous,” Callan said. “This isn’t an action movie.”
I looked at the others. Kathryn was silent. The kids looked a little spooked, except for Roxanne. Ellie was leaning forward, her attention trained on the conversation.
“I’m going to go use the facilities,” Callan said, “Then I’ll put something over that broken window, if you just tell me where stuff is.”
“I’ll help with that,” Ty said.
“Stuff’s upstairs,” Alexis said.
“Tea, anyone?” Tiff asked, almost hopeful. She only got glares and blank looks in return.
“I’ll have some,” Alexis said. “Just give me five. Kathryn, if you’d like to-”
“Don’t even,” Kathryn said, “I’m not taking orders from a freeloader.”
“Then we’ll postpone sweeping up,” Alexis said. “I’ll handle it in a minute.”
Alexis disappeared.
“What do you think?” Kathryn asked Ellie.
“I’m taking Peter’s lead,” Ellie said. “He’s still a kid, but he’s smarter than me. If he sees an opening, we should go for it together.”
Kathryn nodded. “You’re going to be good?”
Ellie snorted. “I might grab some of grandmother’s stuff. Get some of the inheritance we’re due. Be easier if you watched my back.”
“Share,” Kathryn said.
“‘Kay.”
Slowly, people sorted themselves out, the youngest kids moving to the living room with Kathryn. I heard the television come on. I couldn’t wrap my head around just sitting around while cold wind blew in through the shattered window, but… that was them.
Alexis held her phone to one ear, roaming the house. Evan was perched on her shoulder.
Not talking to anyone. Just wanting an excuse to talk to thin air. To me.
I offered a tiny whistle. She found me.
“You get any of that?”
“Eavesdropped. Missed the little stuff.”
“Well,” I said. “As last-minute defenses go, filling the house with innocents, if that even works for these guys, it’ll slow down a lot of the stuff they could throw at us.”