Kitsune's eyes followed his hands as he put on the clinical gloves. There was something about him, how he handled the apparatus, that reminded her of doctors. Even his grip as he rolled up her sleeve was familiar.
"Your hands are trembling," Cain said, "are you scared?"
"Totally," she said, a nervous laugh evading his gaze, "remind me again why we are doing this?"
"I am collecting," he said.
She tilted her head, her brows furrowed.
"I don't get it," she said.
"There are somethings I didn't explain, again, sorry about that," said Cain, "you have heard of the phrase sell the soul to the devil, right?"
"I have, but what does it have to do with this?"
"It's more or less accurate," Cain explained, pulling a chair and sitting opposite her, "every time you ask for a favour, I must collect something that I think meets the value. I cannot collect more than is required; I will be punished, nor can I settle for less. I will also be punished."
"Ahh... I see now. Wait, who determines the value?"
"A god,"
"A god? Do they mail it to you?"
Cain chuckled.
"Something like that. You are awfully curious, aren't you?" he asked.
"Is that annoying?' she asked cheecked puffed, turning her head and shoulders slouched.
He smiled and rolled the seat back. He then tilted her chin up, forcing them to lock eyes.
"Not so," he said, " but don't ask too many questions, trust me."
"Okay, jeez," she said.
Cain gave a light laugh as he reached for the rubbing alcohol. Alongside it, he placed a blood bag and a huge needle that made Kistune curl a fist.
"I'll answer one more question," said Cain as he wiped the wet cotton on her arm.
The alcohol smell reached her nose, and a cold sensation on her arm. She looked up thoughtfully.
"Why do I have to pay? I mean, am I not the master?"
"For equality," Cain explains, "if most people had free rein to do whatever they wanted with a power like mine.No risks. It wouldn't end well."
"I think so... Ouuch," Kitsune gasped as she looked at her forearm, "you were supposed to warn me first,"
"Sorry," he said with an awkward smile.
***
Cain marked the blood bag and put it in the fridge. He turned to Kitsune, who looked away sternly, still holding a piece of cotton on her arm.
"I'll buy you a sweet?" he asked.
She turned her head to the other side dramatically.
"Okay, okay, I'll give you a kiss on the cheek then,"
Her eyes snapped wide as she turned to him. She recoiled back instinctively as her face flushed red.
"So you do want a kiss," Cain pressed.
"Stoop mess with meee," she protested, her feet swirling like a child's.
With a light laugh, Cain spoke, "I can't help it, you are fun to tease."
"I'll take an IOU," she responded, holding up her pinkie.
He locked his finger with hers and nodded.
"Deal," he said
Cain then took off the clinical gloves, disposing of them in a bin. From a drawer, he fished out a Band-Aid and sealed it on her arm. He then helped her off the bed. Kitsune rubbed her eyes and covered her mouth, unable to control the light yawn that followed. By then, her lower eyelids were already swollen, and dark circles started forming.
"Kitsune, go get some rest. It's been a long day for you and Miss Akira."
"I will," she replied.
They parted. Cain had some urgent matter to tend to.
"And once again I roam free alone," Kitsune thought, pulling her hoodie up.
As she walked the halls, a yawn escaped her lips. If counted, it would be her third. Crusty folds at the edge of her eyes as she blinked forced a rub with the back of her hand.
"End of the hall...?" her mind tried to recall, but blank, only echoes.
Her heavy legs stopped in front of a familiar wooden door, the difference unclear as all looked alike. A quick look on either side. No one. She shrugged, then twisted the knob, easing the door open. She deepened her head inside and looked around.
A huge bed, well dressed, several pillows. Across the other end, a huge and long shelf of books with an office desk in front of it. A laptop, a book still open, a chessboard, some pieces off. On the opposite end, a glass shelf, liquor inside.
"It can't be his room, right?"
She paused, looked to the side once more, and a reason to abandon the idea festering in her mind did not present itself. The compulsion won. Opening the door wider, she slipped in and gently closed it behind her.
Exhaling deeply, she steadied he breath and sighed heavily before looking around. The sleep in her eyes had long vanished.
The grandeur screamed a mix of cultures. Arabic carpet. Chinese curtains. Small Greek sculptures. Medieval weapons hang on one wall. Then there was that black coat that hung on the coat rack.
Then there was that Cain smell. Pleasant on its own and often lingered long after he was gone. That, amalgamated with a distant faint pulp from the books on the shelf, brought a cosy feel about it.
Oder. Everything in place, meticulously placed. The room had a lot, easy to forget, but the arrangement made it seem minimal. But then frar, right across from the desk, something caught her eye. Something is out of order.
Perhaps it was the wretched cover that drew her eyes. A canvas corner staring directly at her. She crossed the room, her eyes fixed on the brown and white brush strokes. The cover was halfway falling that gave her a general idea of what the painting might be.
She pulled. Her eyes took in the general aesthetic, trying to make sense of the image.
"This can't be right," she thought.
She froze, brows furrowed. Her head tilted as her hand fell on her mouth. She took a step back, her heart pounding.
The painting. Long marvelous brown hair and equally brown eyes. A smile crossed her lips. It could have been the dimly lit room, or it could have been her imagination, but as Kitsune looked into the girl's face, there was no difference; she was looking at herself.
"Kitsune," Cain's deep, cold voice rang in her ear.
She twitched suddenly and turned to him, pale as a ghost. His face had darkened, and his eyes seemed to glow in the contrast of the dim room as he stared down at her. Her fingers shook, and her face was unable to contain her guilt.
"So what did you find?" he asked, his face brightening.
Kitsune's heart eased. A gentle warmth spread through her chest, and her limbs went steady. She exhaled deeply realizing that she had been holding her breath.
"This painting... did you do it?" she asked.
"I did, a long time ago. You like it?"
"It's good, I like it... she looks a lot like me, don't you think?"
Cain stepped back and looked thoughtfully at the girl, then Kitsune. He looked intently at Kitsune, and at the painting, he rubbed his chin all the while. He then shrugged.
"Now that I think about it, yeah, what a coincidence,"
"Is that so?" asked Kitsune with a forced smile, "Is it someone I know?"
Cain fell silent as if reminiscing about something, then gave a flimsy smile and scratched his head, flustered. His hand brushed his hair as he gave a light, nervous laugh.
"She was my lover," he said as he moved to the painting and put the cover back.
"She passed," he added with a weak smile.
Regret welled up in Kitsune for bringing up the subject and opening up old wounds. She quietly watched as he put the painting on a shelf and closed it. She was uncertain about how to break the sombre mood.
"Am sorry... " she tried, but...
"Don't be... it's not your fault," he stopped her.
Now finished with the painting, he turned to her sternly.
"On another topic, what are you doing in my room? You should be more self-conscious; only go there if he is your lover."
He stared. Her face is red. She looked away, awkwardly evading his gaze. He noticed and felt compelled to throw a few more jabs, but decided not to.
"You should join Akira at the dinner table. I heard Gabriel is not holding back today."
"Alright, but aren't you coming?" she asked and reluctantly added, "Gabriel said you were a bad host."
"She said that? How vile," he said as he shook his head. "Not today, Kitsune. Go on ahead"
Cain sat back on his desk and watched as she exited. He turned to the painting and frowned.
"I guess they do look alike," thought.
***
Hours later.
Cain looked through the huge window at the moonless sky. Cloudy and seemingly damp with rain. The smell of moisture filled his nostrils and lungs; his mind rigorously took in the details.
"Lord Cain," came Gabriel's voice, "you seem sad today. I suppose the ladies made this place livelier."
"I suppose so," he said mindlessly.
"I especially like Akira. She is quite fun and knowledgeable. A free spirit. And what of Miss Kitsune?"
Cain remained silent. His gaze does not once leave the sky outside. Gebriel's lips pressed, looking in his direction, she decided to press.
"Don't you think she looks like the Mistress?"
"Yes," he replied.
Her face lit up, "What worked? What if..."
"Gebriel enough," Cain commanded.
As he did, a cold choking pressure escaped him. She stepped back, words like invisible hands held her by the throat. She held her breath and, despite the cold night, sweat formed on her forehead.
"Anny is dead, and that's the end of it."
"Yes, my lord," she said, bowing.
He calmed down.
There was a prolonged silence as she waited for further instructions.
"Has Peter found what I tasked him?" asked Cain.
"He did my lord. Infact you will love what you hear."
"Please do share."
"Peter reported that he not only found your Ward, but your Charge as well. And the person in question has tremendous potential. Talented."
Cain's eyes widened. A smile formed on his lips, "The god of fortune smiles upon me. And why has Peter not returned yet?"
"He..." she hesitated, "Well... You know who is up to some mischief again."
Cain chuckled, "Please remind Peter not to overindulge him."
"Yes, my lord."
Cain stood and took his coat. He walked past Gebriel and pulled the door.
"Gebriel," he called out, standing by the door.
"Yes, my lord."
"Thank you," he said.
"It's my duty."
***
Romania, a tall man about six feet three, came out of the shower. Water dripped from his brown hair as he looked at his reflection. His arms rested on the sink, and he had tattoos on his right arm and chest, the intricacy making it look like it was black, from afar.
He stared into the red eyes; the colour gradually turned to a natural blue. This was less suspicious and made him blend in easier. He had a face that attracted women's attention, bleared well-trimmed to none.
"Ring . . . ring" . . .He looked across the room at the mess of clothes, then at the woman sleeping naked on the bed. The ups and downs of her waist were seen over the blanket. His gaze went past her, then landed on the cell phone at the table.
He slowly walked over and picked it up. The number was anonymous. He sighed and lazily pressed the receiver to his ear, pushing back the wet hair blocking his vision. He spoke.
"Hello."
"Jaxon, where on earth are you?" a feminine voice spoke on the other end.
He groaned loudly in protest. He knew the voice. Slowly, he walked back to the bathroom, thinking of a response that would end the conversation instantly.
"Am tired and having a hangover, crazy night, can we do this some other time?"
"At least pretend to be happy!"
"Right, right, I'm sorry," he said lazily. "Why are you calling me?"
"Can't a sister call her brother?"
"Look, Jessica, life sucks, but I don't wanna see any of you for another century... Bye-bye." Jaxon replied.
"Wait, wait, have you heard about Jos? "
Jaxon stopped. His interest was piqued.
"No... Hasn't he been MIA?"
"Well, yeah! But he is back... And you know what that means, chances are Jerico will pop up too." Jessica said excitedly.
"So Jericho is still missing, too?" asked Jaxon
"Yeah."
"I see, thanks for that, if he comes by, I'll tell you."
He hung up. He looked again at the mirror, and it cracked into several pieces. He took a deep breath, calming down, and the mirror pieces came together and were restored. Good as new.
"Cain Philip Joseph is still alive, so even Jericho couldn't put that mutt down. What a drag," he said aloud, "I bet he's been looking for me, after all, I was the one who put him in a coffin."
He pushed back his hair, and a twisted smile formed across his face. His eyes turned red again.
"At least it will be fun."