Rachel Caine - Weather Warden 03.5 by Midnight At Mart's

Author:Midnight At Mart's
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-09-05T17:42:49+00:00

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He had a place to put his brother. Well, it was a refrigerated cooler, actually, the walk-in kind, but it was sturdy and he put a lock on the outside once we'd dragged the limp, cold weight inside and slammed the door shut.

"Won't the cold -- " I asked.

"He won't feel it," he interrupted, and scowled as if he hadn't wanted to think about that. "Son of a bitch. I thought he was decently -- "

Dead. I could almost hear it, though Ed didn't come anywhere near the actual word. "What happened?"

Ed stalked past me to the doors, looked outside, and flipped the sign to CLOSED, then locked up. He turned off the sign and most of the lights, leaving just the few in the back. "Car accident. Israel flipped his truck out on a farm-to-market road about four months back." For the first time, I sensed a failure of courage in Ed; he looked away from me and folded his arms across his chest, staring fiercely at the rack of Cheetos. "You eat your hot dog already?"

"Never mind the hot dog," I said. "What happened?"

"He was trapped in the wreck. Don't know if you understand what that's like around here -- sun heats up metal faster than sticking it in a furnace. He must have cooked inside that tangle ..." Ed shook his head, trying to get the image out of his head. Unsuccessfully. "Nobody found him. I started driving around, looking for him. Found the wreck about ten that night."

"He was dead."

Ed blinked and darted me a look. "He look dead to you?"

"Actually ... except for the walking-around part, yes."

Ed didn't answer. He looked off into that long distance again, arms still folded. "Yeah, well, I identified him.

Buried him. Next evening, he walks in here filthy and dressed in his suit, the one they put on him at the funeral home. No shoes. No -- " He stopped. His mouth shut with such a hard snap I heard enamel click.

I let out a slow, aching breath. "What did you do?"

"Nothing. I didn't know what the hell to do. Law says he's dead, but he's not, he's ... walking. He talked some, then he left. Next night, he came back. I haven't seen him for a couple of weeks now. I thought -- "

Muscles fluttered under the skin as his jaw tightened. "I figured he'd finally died. Or whatever they do.

People who come back."

Clearly, Ed wasn't a fan of vampire fiction. "I don't think they just ... roll over and do that."

He lowered his chin. Didn't answer directly. Or maybe he did, I realized, as I listened. "I asked him what he remembered. I was thinking -- hell, you know what I was thinking." Yeah, I knew. Some suave European guy in a cape, fangs, scary music. "He said he was dying, bleeding out in the truck, and he started seeing

... fairies."

"Fairies?" I said. "You're kidding me!"

"Wish I was. Fairies. Little Tinkerbelle lights. Blue. He said they swarmed all over him.

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