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Johnny waved and left us to finish closing. Angel followed a few minutes later, leaving me to walk through the lobby, turning off lights and getting everything ready for opening tomorrow. All in all, the day had been pretty painless.
I’d kept busy so that I didn’t have to think about Nicky or Gideon, or the trouble they’d both brought into my life. That was the way I liked it. Quiet life and no trouble. It kept me safe. I didn’t like having to constantly look over my shoulder.
"Good night, Roni." I saluted her as I passed her glass prison cell.
Behind the painted on, sweet cherub smile, I could sense the rage boiling inside the doll’s tiny porcelain body. Angel had managed to find a few more hexes to seal her in good and tight. Hopefully, this time, they would last.
I locked the doors and felt a vibration in the bottom of my black, pleather purse. Sticking my arm in clear down to my elbow, I pulled out my old track phone. This morning, I'd thrown it in my bag as an afterthought. So far, there'd been no response from my brother.
The screen flashed a bright voicemail sign. I flipped it open and pressed it to my ear. Maybe it'd be a telemarketer calling. Or a Gallup survey. They had the uncanny ability to sniff out an unwilling customer on the other end of the line. Usually, I avoided unknown numbers.
"You have one new message." The robotic woman's voice made me cringe. I held my breath and listened intently.
"Hey, Little Bird.”
The voice made my heart stop. The only person on this entire planet that called me Little Bird was Nicolo, my brother. He'd begun calling me that when I was only two and he was four. In turn, I was the only one who got to call him Nicky.
“I’m sorry if you’ve had trouble lat
ely,” he continued. “I didn’t want my little sister to get involved, but things have a funny way of working out.” His voice was light, but there was an edge to it, as if he was barely stifling his anger.
A car horn blared in the background. I heard Nicky inhale and let out a long sigh.
“Listen, I managed to get a flight out of Bolivia and I’m already in Arcana. I’m going to take care of this. Right some wrongs. I put my trust in the wrong people and now I’m paying the price. But, I’ll contact you again very soon. We need to talk. Bye, Little Bird.”
In a daze, I dropped the phone back into the recesses of my purse. Nicky was definitely here – in Arcana. And somehow, he knew I was in town, too. His cryptic message hadn’t claimed any responsibility for the kidnapping in my building. The bit about trusting the wrong people was even more confusing.
Nicky had always preferred to be solitary. Even though people gravitated toward him, especially women, he liked his alone time. It didn’t win him any close friends in high school, although most people would’ve said Nicky was popular. He just didn’t let people get deeper than surface level. I was the only one who got to peek behind the veil.
But I knew, deep down, that he was involved in the Yonas disappearance. I should’ve known it the moment I first had the vision. After all, the raven’s feather was his sadistic calling card.
Nicky and I didn't have the best childhood, to say the least. Before our mother mysteriously died on a mission, she’d been mostly absent with her work through the HQ – The Harpy Quorum of the Americas. They were their own form of government, suspicious of the workings of the SI, and determined to bring their own justice to the supernatural creatures of the world. Armed with psychic visions, a millennia of experience, and a network of contacts, harpy women were feared, and rightfully so. The mob of winged women didn't have much time for coddling. Justice came on swift wings.
Our human father wasn't much of a childhood figure, either. He'd spent much of that time wading through one form of alcoholic beverage or other. While he wasn't abusive, he didn't participate much. So, Nicky and I were left alone most of the time while dad went to the bar. And even though I was the younger sibling, I spent much of that time raising my older brother, trying to replace the mother and father he never had.
It wasn't until I graduated high school did I realize something was off with Nicky. His anti-social behavior had seemed like a phase at first. Like he would eventually grow out of it and become a proper man. I was blindsided the first time he came to me, complaining about the evils of the supernatural creatures in our Chicago neighborhood. It was crazy talk. I brushed it off, but every time he spoke of it, he became more agitated.
They're evil, he'd said. Little Bird, we've got to stop them. They're killing people. Without proof to back up his theories, I ignored him. Shortly after that, he took his first victim. And another. And yet another. The SI couldn’t find him. The HQ couldn’t kill him. He was unstoppable.
My family history was still bogging down my mind when I finally made it home that evening. I hadn't thought about Nicky in so long. After he left home to begin his killing spree, I'd made certain to leave Illinois and go to school far away, settling in Arcana where no one knew me or my past.
But, at the back of my mind, the thought remained - Nicky would come for me someday. He'd come hunting for me and slaughter me, just like he did the rest of his victims. Either that, or the HQ would find me first, and punish me for refusing to stop my brother. Neither future was very appealing.
Gideon's wine glass still sat on the kitchen counter. Half full of the dark red liquid, it suddenly looked an awful lot like fresh blood. I poured it down the sink and rinsed out the glass, washing away the reminder of the blood on my hands.
Sure, I could turn Nicky into the SI. I could tell Gideon about him and betray my own brother. But, it wouldn't help anything. I didn't know where Nicky was keeping his victims. The less I got involved, the better. Besides, my presence might only enrage him further. Who knew what would happen to the Yonas family then?
As if on cue, a knock sounded at my apartment door. It had to be Gideon. He seemed to have a way of showing up at the least opportune times. I swung the door open, ready to stare him down, when I came face-to-face with a giant black camera lens.
A man with bulky arms was holding it in front of his face. Standing next to him was Ian Welch, horse-teeth and all. His smile almost cracked his face, he was straining so hard to keep it on.
"Ms. Harris, we'd like to ask you a few questions about the horrid crime that occurred in your building. Do you have a minute for us?" He pushed a microphone with a royal blue foam head in my face.
"No, I don't want to talk with you."
I pushed the door closed, but Ian stuck his foot between the frame and the door.
"The SI is being very secretive. We know there's more to the story. What have you heard?"
