Oaklie knew only bad people were left now.The child was young, but she must have a black or gray soul already.“We have to let them in,” she said.“I won’t be able to live with myself if we leave them out in this storm.”
Arkas heaved a silent sigh and didn’t seem surprised.“They’ve parked next to our truck,” he said, hearing the engine cut out.“You’ll need to unlock the side door.”
He darted into their room to grab his rifle.Oaklie’s power unfused the wooden frame from the door to allow the strangers entry.
“Do you think it’s safe in there?”the woman asked in a fearful voice.
“It’s got to be safer than drowning in the rain in our truck,” her husband replied bleakly.
“Their souls are gray,” Arkas said in a low voice.“Their daughter’s is not.”
“Yeah, I figured,” the artist said with a grimace.
The door opened and the father entered, holding a rifle.He stopped to stare at them warily.“Is that your truck?”he asked, jerking his head at their ride.
“It is,” Arkas confirmed.“Yours seems to be pretty beaten up by the storm.”
“Goddamn hail,” the man said bitterly, utterly soaked to his skin.“I’ve never seen it this bad before,” he added, eyeing them both suspiciously.
“We took shelter here last night,” Oaklie said, smiling at the mom when she peered over her husband’s shoulder.“We planned to leave early this morning, but the storm had other ideas.”
“Is it safe here?”the woman asked.Both she and her husband were only a few years older than Oaklie.It was obvious they’d faced hard times even before the Rapture from their threadbare clothes and the strained lines on their faces.
“We won’t attack you without provocation,” Arkas said.“You’re welcome to choose any of the rooms at the far end of the hallway.”
“Thanks,” the husband said, making no move to allow his family inside yet.“We’ll come in as soon as the hallway is clear.”
The little girl stretched up until Oaklie could see her.With her blonde hair, flawless skin and cherubic face, she should have looked as pretty as a doll.Her empty blue eyes made her as creepy as hell.Her soul wasn’t gray, it was black.“We’ll be moving on as soon as the hail stops,” Oaklie said, nudging Arkas to return to their room.
“So will we,” the dad said.
Arkas shielded Oaklie with his body as they entered their room.He shut the door and she fused it from their side, leaving the outline of the cracks on the other side.
“I like them,” the little girl said in a too sweet voice.“I want to play with that lady’s long hair.”
“Not now, sweetie,” her mom said as they quickly hurried further down the hallway.
“But I want to!”the kid shouted in rage.
“Not so loud,” her dad said, hushing her as he opened a door.“They could be bad people, honey,” he admonished her.
“You’rebad people!”his daughter exclaimed.“I hate you!”
“So much for our peaceful art lesson,” Arkas said with a frown.
“That kid is pure evil,” Oaklie said, suppressing a shiver.“Her folks don’t seem so bad.I wonder why she turned out to be so horrible.”
“Some people are just born that way, like your adopted brother,” the knight said.“I have a feeling we’ll need to stay on our toes until the storm finally passes.”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” the cambion said, uneasiness growing by the second.“I really hope the storm ends soon so we can leave this place.”
“Don’t get your hopes up too high, female,” Arkas warned her.“The rain and hail show no signs of abating yet.”
They resumed their art lesson, but their comfortable, flirtatious vibe was now gone.Arkas’ face was grim as he continued whittling with her giving him tips.
“I need to rest,” the mom said from the end of the hall.“Can you watch over her?”
“Yeah,” her husband replied, sounding just as weary.“I’ll wake you in a few hours,” he said.
