The Fallen (A Sons of Wrath Prequel) (6 page)

Xander twisted on the ball of his foot, and catching sight of the picture on the nightstand, he crossed the short distance. The image in the frame seemed to have been split down the center, leaving only the half with Lita.

He popped the back of the frame and removed the picture, giving one long stare before tucking it inside his jacket pocket.

CHAPTER 5

Xander slouched in the leather chair across from Ian Portaine, who held up a finger as he sat toying with a cell phone behind his desk. Gray hair put him somewhere in his late fifties, Xander guessed, though from the neck down, he could’ve easily been mistaken for a younger guy, the way he obsessed about his body. The guy dressed like a porn star from the seventies in button down silks and slacks—even capped off the look sometimes with a pair of brown-tinted aviators.

He also owned the hottest, most deadly club on the strip, one that monopolized all the other strip clubs in the city. Women wanted in—no matter what they had to do to
get
in.

Mid-week at
Hard Limits
, though, meant fewer patrons and more time bullshitting—a pastime Xander loathed, except that he often snagged information in the thick of what he considered girly gossip.

He needed distraction while the asshole scrolled through his texts, making Xander wait as he tried to figure out his goddamn phone with a punch-worthy, duck-lipped expression on his face.

Pictures on the wall served to direct Xander’s stare, and keep him from acting on his instincts to pummel the prick.

Xander trained his eyes on the black and white image hanging amidst a dozen others. A much younger Ian stood beside one of the better-known rebel leaders in Africa, who’d been taken captive and murdered years before, accused of mass genocide. Behind them, a plaque on the wall displayed the overlapping rhombi—the symbol for slavery—the same symbol tattooed on Xander’s wrist. Portaine wore a smile in the picture like the bastard stood beside Mandella, or some shit.

Not likely.

For decades, the Portaines in Africa carried about the same reputation for sex trafficking as Al Capone had for bootlegging. Just like with the gangster, a very savvy government agent managed to take down the Portaine ring—right before Ian’d gone missing and his brothers fled to the States.

Ian finally set down the phone and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I got a problem.” Much as he tried to hide it, his white South African accent bled into the words.

As the owner of Hard Limits, Ian frequently had problems—the kind of problems that put Xander’s skills to good use.

“I don’t know what kind of pit bull bitch they got working down at the station these days.” He rolled his head against his shoulders as though stretching his neck. “Cops can’t seem to let this shit go.”

“We talkin’ about the murdered girl again? That was months ago.”

“Don’t be fooled. This has nothing to do with the girl. They could give two shits about an Asian import, whose family is probably living the village high life right now. Their
precious
missing politician is making news again.” Ian huffed. “Fuck, I wish someone would kill that bitch wife of his.” His eyes darted to Xander. “Not you.” He chuckled. “I gotta find a way to prove to them that Hard Limits isn’t involved.” His hand rubbed down his face. “Christ you should’ve seen the place. Butchers see less meat in a day. Like someone was trying to send a message, or something.”

Xander remained still, listening.

“Keep your ears open. You hear anything, you tell me.” Ian eased back in the chair, kicking his snake-skins up on the desktop. “That other girl … Leanna, or Lola, or whatever the fuck her name is, she’s out there somewhere. Million fuckin’ surveillance cameras in this shithole, and all I got prior to this goddamn nightmare is some dodgy ass angles of the back or side of her head. I can see Knox’s fucking nostril hairs, but not one straight shot of
her
face. Technology.” He rubbed his hands across his short-cropped hair. “Keep looking for her.”

Lolita.
“And the police?”

“Money talks, for now. Got another auction coming up. Might even raise enough to keep the city off my ass about Knox. I still want that bitch stripper ...” That duck lip of his pursed. “’The fuck’s her name ...” He swiped a hand across his nose. “She might be the one fueling that cunt, Melissa Knox.” Ian shook his head. “What I wouldn’t give to put her in a cage …” His eyes seemed to glaze over, as if he imagined such a thing. A knock at the door broke him from his trance, and Ian’s brother, Jimmy, a shorter, younger version of him with brown hair, stepped inside the room.

He didn’t bother to hide the glare he cast in Xander’s direction.

“I’m all set. Go on.” Ian dismissed Xander with a wave.

Xander rose from his chair and made a casual stroll across the room, grinning in a gridlocked stare with Jimmy until he stepped aside for him to pass. Jimmy’s five-eleven frame naturally cowered beside Xander’s—at least, it always looked like it did from where Xander towered at nearly seven foot. Their silent duel ended when Xander strode from the room.

***

Karinna fidgeted with the strap of her bag as she walked through the sliding doors of Sacred Heart Asylum. Within, the staff could be identified by the standard white uniforms they all wore. White. Didn’t matter if they were nurses, assistants or fucking janitors—they all carried the mission of white.

Damn, the place made her a nervous wreck. It didn’t help that she’d waited so long to relay the news about Lolita’s death to their mother, whose reaction didn’t exactly promise to be favorable.

“Hey, Eric,” Karinna said, nodding at a familiar nursing assistant as she passed.

He gave an exaggerated nod in return and a half smile, his eyes following her suspiciously.

Hands tucked into her sweatshirt, her stomach turned squeamish as she walked the hallway and tried not to make eye contact with anyone. Like walking through the kangaroo exhibit at the zoo, where all the animals were so tranquilized, they couldn’t escape if they’d tried.

Shouts arose from the room on the right, and Karinna broke out into a sprint. She reached the door in time to see two nurses restraining the old woman to the bed.

“Hey, hey.” She lurched into the room and gripped the arm of one. “Take it easy.”

As weak as the old woman looked—pale skin, tight and wrinkled like parchment, at least twenty pounds lighter than the last time Karinna had seen her—she thrashed like a wild animal, kicking and screaming in futility. Blood trickled down her face, and at first, Karinna couldn’t tell if it was hers or one of the nurses. A quick glance to the left, where the nurse stood dabbing a tissue at her lip, confirmed she’d probably head-butted the tall female.

“What’s going on?”

“Attacked three staff.” The bleeding nurse shook her head. “Must’ve spit her meds again.”

Once restrained, Karinna’s mother could hardly move, though she continued to squirm against her binds.

Karinna stroked a hand down her face. “Mom?”

The woman’s left eye, the only one she had, made a slow track from the ceiling to Karinna’s face, but showed no signs of life. As if the person behind the black pupil had disappeared. The black socket on the right showed where she’d gouged out her own eyeball—Karinna still hadn’t gotten used to the absence of the patch she’d always worn to hide it. With long labored breaths, the woman finally calmed.

“How are you today?” Karinna asked.

Silence. Always silence.

“I came by to tell you—”

“Where’s the whoring one?” The socket squinted with the question. “The one who seems to love trouble?”

Rage clutched Karinna’s stomach, and she bit back the remark begging for release, cleared her throat. “I saw the first daffodils bloom today, momma. It made me think of you. Remember, you used to pick them for me?”

“She’ll get what’s coming to her. You can’t hide from the devil, child. The devil collects what’s his, and it’s in the flames of hell where every sinner’s soul can burn with the reaping.”

“She’s your
daughter
.” Karinna couldn’t hide the sharpness piercing through her words.

“She’s no daughter of mine. Demons claimed my body and I bore their evil in the two of you.”

As always, Karinna wanted to laugh and make a smart ass remark about
why would you let a demon claim your body
, but a vision of her sister’s lifeless expression flashed through her mind.

Human. Vulnerable. Empty and devoid of any life force, including evil.

Completely alone.

Knots twisted in Karinna’s gut—they always did when visions of her sister’s cold and vacant eyes came to mind. “Lita wanted … Lita wanted me to tell you that she misses you, momma. She wishes she could be here. And that she loves you.”

The spiteful old woman twisted her face away, toward the window.

“Anyway, that’s all I came to tell you.”

When she turned back, a shield of tears left her one eye glassy, though her cheeks remained dry. Her lips pursed. “Don’t let the darkness take you, child.”

Karinna stared down at her mother. Didn’t matter what she said. The woman would never change. Not even as medication tempered the comments that used to fly out of her mouth without the slightest remorse. “I love you, mom.” Karinna stood from the chair beside the bed and left the room.

Once outside the suffocating building, she lit a cigarette, eyes riveted on the garden of colorful tulips that lulled her into memories.

Screams pulled Karinna from her dreams, and she shot up in bed
.

Lita.

She raced down the hallway to the guest bedroom where her sister slept. Toying with the knob, she frowned when it wouldn’t budge.

“Lita,” she said in a soft but firm voice. “Open the door.”

No answer.

An ear to the door bore only quiet.

Karinna jostled the doorknob again. “Lita!” Panic swelled inside her. “Open the door, Lita!”

Using her shoulder, she rammed the wood panels. Over and over. No give.

Karinna took two steps back, hoisted her foot, and kicked the door open. Darkness swallowed her as she raced toward the bed and threw back the white blanket. Empty. 

Oh, God
. The wild thump of her heart left her panting for breath. She leapt across the bed to the other side. Nothing.

A soft voice drifted through the room.

Karinna backed herself onto the floor and, swinging around, caught the soft glow of white fabric from her sister’s nightshirt.

Lita sat huddled in the fetal position. Her body trembled. Even in nothing more than the wan light of the moon, bruises marring her pale tattooed skin stood out like blue and purple stains on an inked canvas. The rhythm and pace of the words she mumbled sounded like bible passages.

“Lita,” Karinna whispered, crossing the room where she fell to her knees beside her sister. “It was just a nightmare.”

“No.” Lita rocked, head tucked into her folded arms. “It was real. The monsters. They’re real.”

“Tell me your dream.”

“Mother was right. Demons exist. They came for me, Karinna. All the years that I sinned. They came for me.”

Karinna reached out a hand.

“Don’t touch me!” Lita scrambled backwards.

“I want to help you. Please let me, Lita.”

Her hands rubbed back and forth across her crown, tangling the short red locks of hair. “Feed it. Fuck it. Eat it.” She tore handfuls of hair from her scalp before pressing her palms against the floor. “It’s what they do. It’s what they do.” Her voice carried the harrowing whimsy of lunacy.

Hairs stood on the back of Karinna’s neck and she steeled her muscles to stifle shivers. “Who?”

“The monsters.” Lita’s eyes widened. “They’ll find me.” She flinched and glanced around the room, ducking as if something swooped at her from the ceiling. “I took the camera. I hid it. They’ll be looking for me.”

“What camera? Why do they want it, Lita?”

“He …. What he did. The angel.” Banging against her temple, she rocked faster and shook her head. “Oh, the heavens will never forgive him for what he did.” Her lip quivered. “But he did it for me,” she said, the threat of tears breaking her words.

“Angel?”

“I don’t know what he is. He looks like one of them. But how can evil …” She ceased rocking and scratched at her face. Her eyes, pupils dilated, crazed, finally found Karinna’s. “In the ash, the skeletons rest.”

“I don’t understand, Lita. You’re not making sense.”

“I’ll repent. But the skeletons remain. In the ash.”

“Dammit! Quit with the puzzles! Let me help you!”

As if snapped from her nightmare, Lita’s eyes softened to sadness. “Help me, Karinna.” Sobs burst forth. “Oh, please, help me.”

So vulnerable, she looked like a child with her round, sad eyes and pouting lip.

Karinna crawled toward her and cradled her sister, kissing the top of her head as she had when they were young. Lita’s body shook as she clutched to her arm.

“Please don’t let them find me. I want to be good. I want to change.”

“Tell me what I need to do. Where is the camera?”

“I hid it … in the chimney. The ashes.”

“Where?”

Lita shook her head. “I want to see momma. She can keep me safe.”

Her sister really must’ve been messed in the head if she thought their mother could help. “I will keep you safe. I won’t let anyone touch you, Lita. Never again.”

A tear spilled down Karinna’s cheek as she stamped out the cigarette and hopped inside the waiting cab.

Broken promises. She hated them. Never intended to lie to Lita, but shit happened sometimes. Had Karinna known her sister’s greatest threat happened to be
herself
, she’d have done everything in her power to keep Lita safe.

The entrance of Sacred Heart Asylum drifted past her window, until at last, it disappeared behind her.