Paris:
Belle had gone to the bathroom; to change and put on the wig and false teeth. The diner was small and empty, low security with four main exits, crackling vinyl and greasy tables, shiny salt shakers and streaked windows. Outside the purplish sky was raining heavily and the motel neon light across the street was flickering. We had officially left Amsterdam.
I glugged down watery coffee and stared at the maps London had thought to pack. How she knew we would end up in America, I don't know. Penciling the route to Manhattan, I wished we had the luxury of one full night's rest, however Belle and I had been taking shifts, three hours off, four hours on. My body clock was screwed, but I didn't need to look at the clock in the corner to know it had just gone past five in the morning and that it was eight minutes slow.
A girl with short blonde hair and pale skin came out of the bathroom looking far too awake for the hour and dropped into the other side of the booth. Her eyes were blue and teeth crooked when she smiled lazily. "How do you like my cover?"
Belle's voice was probably the only recognisable thing about her as she handed me a pair of thick framed glasses and a pack of contact lenses. My hair had been shaved off last night over the bath tub in motel room 4 and I felt cold without it. It had been a trademark feature of mine and I would not have let Belle do this to me under normal circumstances; which is exactly the point.
We caught the bus to New Jersey and then took the ferry into the city. Fake IDs and cash payment. I stood watch as Belle fed coins into the payphone and dialled the magic numbers.
I tapped into Belle's mind to listen to the call from across the street. "Hello?"
"Crystal?"
"Who is this?"
"Can you help me?" Belle's voice rose an octave in fake terror.
"And how could I do that?" Crystal was being very evasive, but that was good. It meant she was nobody's fool and knew how to keep safe.
"He told me you find..." Belle gave a pretend shaky breath. "Soulfinders."
Whilst it wasn't our soulfinders we needed at the moment, but that could wait.
"Come to this address..."
The building was a modern, glass covered, obnoxious thing, I didn't realise how much I appreciated the old buildings of Amsterdam until now, I glanced over my shoulder, across the East river at the familiarity of the Brooklyn brownstones. We entered the lobby and I found the whirring thoughts of Crystal Brook waiting on a couch. She had wild curls of every shade of brown, striking features almost like the twins and was just as tall as I was when she stood.
"Come this way." she said quietly and she swiped a card in the elevator.
The apartment had a very lived in feel, but also very private. It wasn't like the house in Amsterdam where everyone went wherever they wanted; and nobody had anywhere they could call theirs' alone. This was like there were too many inside jokes to explain.
The building across the street is under construction. I passed to Belle angrily.
Key card access and 360 degree visual. She replied.
Great! Now they can see us from all angles!
"If you wouldn't mind, could you stop, I get sick around telepathy." Crystal said as she dropped into a wide armchair.
"Oh sorry." Belle said but I reached out and took a look at her mental patterns. They were formed better than most. More defined. Ink rather than lead pencil.
"I understand why you wanted to keep things anonymous over the phone, its okay, I wont tell anyone-"
"That's not it." I cut her off.
"We actually came here because we need to tell you something."
"You need to tell me something?" she arched her eyebrows.
"Yes." And Belle pulled off her wig and shook out her hair; took out the teeth and contacts, I removed my glasses and own coloured lenses. Crystal looked stunned. "London is our sister. We met Will last week..." And Belle told her everything. Paraphrasing some parts.
"We know it's stupid to use satellites, so we thought you might be able to give us an idea of where they are? That they're okay?"
Crystal closed her eyes and I felt her mind reaching for our connection to London. I caught a glimpse of the interior of an expensive car, flying through the night, french signs.
"Thank god they're okay." I sank back into the couch, eyes closed and relieved. We dragged him into this, it's our fault if he gets hurt.
"You both look exhausted, get some rest in the spare room." And she showed us to a room with a single bed and a couch. There was a TV in the corner and a few card board boxes. "The bathroom's just across the hall if either of you need a shower or anything..."
"Thanks." Belle said, eyes drooping at the sight of the springy mattress.
Crystal pulled the door to and her footsteps grew fainter as they moved through the apartment. "I'll take the couch." I muttered, kicking off my shoes and letting my rucksack drop from my shoulders to the linoleum floor. The cushions was slightly lumpy, but it was much more comfortable than the bus seats from Philadelphia or the cold floor of the shipping container across the atlantic. I was soon drifting off to sleep, for once not worried how long I could; or thinking about how many rations we had left.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...
When I finally woke up, light from the window was dim and growing brighter gradually; the sound of car horns honking and people talking and yelling, told me it was probably around eight o'clock. The bed was empty but still warm when I pulled the covers straight. I could hear the shower running across the hall and guessed where she'd gone. Picking up my bag, it felt light, too light.
My clothes were missing. Only the packet of papers, a torch and a MARS bar remained.
I spun at the creak of the door and saw Crystal holding a stack of fresh smelling, clean clothes. My clothes. She'd done laundry. I frowned, it had been years since someone else did my laundry. Syd made that rule and London enforced it when she saw Vienna putting a red sock in my white load. I almost smiled at the memory of wearing pink shirts to school.
"Xav's made coffee if you want it," she said, setting the clothes on the bed. "And we can make you breakfast, well I say make, I mean go across the street for take out bagels or blueberry muffins."
"Sounds good." I nodded, my voice rough from so much sleep.
She grinned and left the room, letting me have some privacy to get dressed. They must have been in the dryer, because they were still warm as I pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of cargo pants.
Xav was extremely tall with surfer waves and an easy grin. I'd always been tall, so had all of my brothers, but Xav had a few inches on me. Rio and Maddie were petite and tiny, making up for it in either brains or hair. I ran a hand over the bristles of my new haircut reminiscently.
"Hey, Paris right?" he asked as he pushed a mug of steaming coffee across the island to me.
"Yeah." I nodded, drinking deeply from the mug.
"Look, I'm a healer so if there's anything... wrong... I can help if you let me."
"I'm fine."
He gave me an unimpressed look. "Paris, I can feel an echo of your discomfort. Don't bother."
"It's what you get from lack of sleep and poor accommodation. It's nothing."
"And your arm?"
I looked down at the bandage wrapped around my forearm. I shrugged. "It's just a scratch."
"How did it happen?"
"Cut it on the boat. It's fine."
"Imbécile têtu..." Belle muttered as she came to stand beside me. Her hair damp from her shower, different shampoo changed the smell and I missed the familiarity of her cherry perfume and almond scented hair.
I sighed and unwrapped the bandage for him to take a look at the graze left by the bullet I'd almost dodged in Brussels. He reached out and covered it with his palm. A sensation that felt like he was pouring ice cold lemon juice over it stung my arm for a few minutes before he pulled back and revealed a pinkish mark on my skin.
"And for that, you owe me a foot rub." He grinned wickedly.
"That's bollocks." Belle and I said at the same time.
Crystal's laughter filled the kitchen as she came back in with a large paper bag full of breakfast muffins. Xav caught her around the waist and planted a kiss on her mouth, stealing the bag.
"Have you checked the website?" I asked Belle quietly as the two of them chased each other around the kitchen.
She nodded. "I left a message telling them we're fine. Syd and Vienna have checked in too, but the others... radio silent." Belle was two years older than me, but she saw me as her equal now, trusting me with her worries.
I squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I'm sure they're fine. London can see the future and Will can sense danger. If they do get into trouble the twins are bloody good fighters. And this is Maddie's speciality, I doubt there is an eye in the world that could find them if they tried. Okay?"
"Okay." she smiled weakly and then gestured to Xav. "Is it just me, or does he remind you of Rome, when Rome was… well Rome."
"That was one of the most unspecific sentences I've ever heard." I grinned but it slipped as I thought about what she said. Rome was a lot more like Xav when Mum was alive, energetic, teasing and silly. Now he portrayed the serious side of his character far too often, not participating as much, becoming the quiet one.
In our family, Sydney's the supportive older brother/parent figure; London, while eccentric, creative and random, has always been the laid back big sister/parent who is the right balance of the two to keep the relationship calm. Belle's the beautiful, talented… girl, nobody had ever questioned her femininity, ever. The twins are the troublemakers, both up to their ears in mischief, the entertainers. Vienna, she was the seventh child and she was packed with the bag of fireworks expected, she was the outdoor, sporty type - never giving anyone a reason to underestimate her. Maddie, the über genius and bookworm, the recluse - not the quiet one. Rio's the giddy, baby sister that you can never, ever get or stay mad at, ever.
Mum once said I had too much cheek and was far to sarcastic for my own good, London called it charm and wit, saying I would be breaking hearts before I lost my baby teeth, I'm hoping for a happy medium.
But Rome, he used to be much more like the twins and I, he had more charm, less pride, much more of Rio's happy-go-lucky outlook on life. I just hoped that boy isn't gone for good.
Vienna:
I'd always liked Uncle Stefan's place. It was like every other safe house in the world, and it wasn't. It was remote and on a mountain - well, when I say 'on-the-mountain' I mean the porch was...
As Syd and I stood, calf deep in snow, on the ledge looking at the basic lean-to shelter that was camouflaged with the rest of the bare, sheer face of rock. It could have just been a resting point for climbers, an ancient ski chalet or it could have been a decoy for anyone looking for a retired member of the Savant Net.
I remember visiting one winter as a child. Nothing had changed about the mountain. I wondered if it was true for the inside.
"We should have probably called first." Syd said as he slung the rucksack onto his back after the climb up here. "Right?"
I rolled my eyes, but I doubt he could see against the snow falling around us, "What are the odds he already knows?"
Syd considered it for a moment. "Two to one."
"Exactly." and I stepped forward, brushing snow from the old dusty window and tugging off a glove. I pressed my palm to the pane. The hot sensation of lasers reading my prints subsided quickly and the door at the end of the shack clicked open.
Once on the other side of the door it automatically bolted shut. The two of us stood in the cramped space that was designed for function not comfort. Two narrow bunks at one end, an icicle covered tap and sink, a camping stove and a closet of medical supplies and sleeping bags. I crossed to the cabinet and opened the door, running my cold fingers along the third shelf until I found the indent. It was an old fashioned sliding puzzle; Syd shone a torch light over it as I pushed and slid until the blocks dropped down to leave it flat.
Despite the howling wind outside, I heard a faint click. Pushing the left side of the shelf, the whole closet swung back on a hinge to reveal a low tunnel with oil lamps hung at spaced intervals. A warmer light glowed in the distance and I heard Uncle Stefan bark, "Ah, vermissen, verwendet man schneller zu sein an diesem alten Spielzeug ... Jetzt beeilen Sie sich und schloss die Tür, wird die Suppe kalt! "
Sydney grinned, giving me a push and replacing the closet behind us. "I love it when he makes soup."