A Darker Shade of Grey

Despite the owner’s guarantee, the angle and height defeated the geriatric pistol. The bullet lodged in skirting board, its trajectory camouflaged by a knot of dark grain. Lady Grey hurled the useless lump, as Laini squealed and darted like a startled rabbit back the way she’d come.

  “Leave her alone!” Sienna tackled her sister’s tormentor. “Run, Laini! Get help! Bring the Police!”

  Jace lost sight of the scuffling women, guessing their direction by crashes and curses. Hopefully, Lady Grey did a hip, although he was not optimistic. The scene faded, returning to his current nightmare. He cradled his brother in his lap, yet as much as he didn’t wish to abandon Reece in this awful place, Reagan was here somewhere demanding rescue. Jace prayed it was not too late. He gently arranged Reece, brushing hair from his face. His brother had never looked so peaceful. Jace secured the lighter in his pants intending to make good use of it.

  “I’ll come back for you, brother. I promise,” he whispered.

  Tears would need to wait, along with regret for another promise likely broken. All bets were off in this hellish nether world, but there was always a price for such a lapse. Jace rose and headed up the stairs. He passed the smashed frame, glass littering the runner. There were more broken cases, but the further up he went the heavier the darkness became, as if scant light sucked into a black hole. He struggled to see fingers in front of his face. The crunch of glass was far too loud in the closeness.

  Ever mindful not to touch, Jace felt as though he teetered the abyss, shuffling onwards with only outstretched arms for balance. If he admitted the terror, he’d freeze and be stuck in limbo for eternity. Finally gaining the mezzanine, Jace patted the ground estimating right. He wondered if the very walls were toxic and yearned for a shirt to cover his vulnerable torso. Just as he congratulated himself for getting the hang of it, he caught the barest swish of movement.

  Jace halted, rigid with fear. Suddenly, strong fingers wrapped his forearms, hoisting him backwards from the spot. A hushed resistance ensued, until a hand clamped his mouth and Reagan murmured in his ear, “It’s me.”

  A torch flicked briefly, as bright as a beacon to ships in the tempest. In that glimpse, Jace was both happier than ever before to see his brother, and dismayed by his wretched state. In the niche of a statue, he sported angry welts, bruises and festering injuries, clothing vaporised in patches. His lips were pressed in a grim line and tears streaked the dirt on his cheeks. He grabbed Jace and hung on for dear life because life was never dearer than here, when it seemed a lost cause.

  “She likes to play with her food before she devours it. I’m sorry,” he choked. “We should have listened.”

  “Shoulda’, coulda’, woulda’, didn’t. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Reece?” The flash jumped back on and Jace blinked in the glare. He sadly shook his head.

  Reagan mouthed, “Fuck! We’re not leaving until that old bitch is gone.”

  “Are you insane?”

  “You want this to happen to some other unsuspecting git?” he countered bitterly. “I’m avenging Reece.”

  Jace was shocked to find himself on the opposite side of honour and felt ashamed. As well as generosity, Reagan wasn’t usually known for his integrity. Jace wondered if he’d only ever seen a version of the twins fabricated by his own bias and a refusal to acknowledge anything decent about them.

  “Okay. We need more petrol.”

  “We brought a single tin, being kind of unprepared for vicious ghosts and such. Or the need to torch a mansion.”

  “Crap!”

  The speck of an idea teased. From the outer edges of vision, a jaundiced corona appeared. It floated on nothing. Reagan shut the torch and snatched him close against floral wallpaper. Jace received the unpleasant answer to his question when flesh scorched on the areas touching. Dainty, venomous flowers. Lovely!

  “Do not look at her,” Reagan barely whispered.

  Was it superstition or a fact? Jace felt like Lot’s wife who couldn’t resist one look back. Or Persephone, guilty of the same and doomed to Hades. He wanted to sight the enemy in cross-hairs. Yet, something in his brother’s tone stopped him. He squeezed his eyes shut and did not open them until a tap on his shoulder.

  “Gun powder. In the study.”

  “Good! You get outside, Jace. Hide whenever you glimpse that lantern. I’ll find the cameo and the explosives.”

  “What?” Jace asked through teeth.

  He snicked the torch on. “This can’t be for nothing.”

  “Nothing’s exactly what it’ll be for if you die retrieving a gossip’s bullshit. There’s no proof that trinket even exists.”

  “Rumour is normally more on the mark than fact.”

  “Please, Reagan! I never understood what you and Reece sacrificed for me. I won’t go to school. We’ll work the business together, make it profitable.”

  “It’s a valiant offer little brother. But you owe me squat. Reece and I owe you our lives.”

  “What?”

  “You remember Mr Tibbs?”

  Jace frowned at the odd non-sequitur. “The old guy with all those tattoos you asked me to play chess with on jail visits? His nose was crooked in about twelve places.”

  “Old Tibbs the mass murderer. Perfectly respectable unless you pissed him off. Killed a prison-guard with a plastic spoon. We were chum in the water and the sharks circled. I don’t need to explain what our looks would get us in the lock-up.”

  “Tibbs the mass murderer,” Jace said flatly.

  “Your friendship with him brought us safety. No-one dared mess with the brothers’ of the brave bastard who sat so near. Imagine what mischief Tibbsy could wreak with a chess piece.” Reagan laughed in the beam of the torch.

  “Fuck me! Thanks for the heads-up. I whipped his arse every week!”

  “I think he liked that best of all. You weren’t scared of him.”

  “Jesus, had I known I would have been.”

  “I’m gonna’ tell you this once. Get outside and stay there no matter what happens. I’ll meet you when I’ve lit the place up like Christmas Eve. You saved my bacon, my turn to repay the favour.”

  Had Jace not been ignorant, Tibbs would have played solo. It wasn’t gutsy or worthy of debt. “But --”

  “Reece always said I didn’t give you enough hidings. Don’t make me start. And there’s no way on this green earth you’re quitting school. Now, piss off!”

  In the end, it didn’t matter who displayed the most courage by going or remaining behind. Unlike the mysterious Tibbs, Lady Grey saw to it neither had that chance. Her lantern shimmered in the gloom, too close for subterfuge.

  ***

  Chapter Twelve