Page 6 of The Danger Kiss

We did not pretend not to know what we knew.

“Hello, little sister.” The response was so characteristically even, to the point it was bland. Had I turned to look, I knew I would see the very same blandness in his face and inky eyes.

"Do sit down. I'll be with you in a minute."

I have been in the greenhouse since very early that day, before sunrise. The night before I dreamt of snakes and thorns, and I woke up in the darkness with the irrepressible desire to cross boa constrictors with vines. I have made cobra vines when I was around fifteen years old but they had been irritatingly temperamental and would not move without the presence of music. Boa constrictors were more interesting, as they would not stop their attack until the victim was assuredly dead. Or at least suffocated.

There was silence throughout the greenhouse as I left my worktable to take off my laboratory coat and wash my hands in the sink.

I heard a quiet creak as his weight settled on the wooden bench at the far side of the room.

"Would you like some tea?" I asked, wiping my hands on a towel. "I have some jasmine left. If you prefer the triple-dose ginseng, I can make it for you, but it'll take several minutes.

"Jasmine is fine. Thank you."

Now, this refusal was uncharacteristic of him. He had never turned down my triple-dose ginseng tea. Ever.

Any surprise I felt was carefully concealed as I went about putting together the tea setting. From an aluminum kettle to an aluminum pot, with two aluminum cups on an aluminum tray. Two tiny silver teaspoons, plus a can of honey.

When I turned, tea tray in hand, it was the first time in months I got a good look at him.

Rukko.

He was a few years older than me, but he did not seem to age. His smooth peaches-and-cream skin looked as unblemished as ever. The only thing that indicated the passage of time is his dark hair; it was now much longer, almost reaching to his waist.

His inky-black eyes were focused straight ahead, looking yet not looking at me as I walked towards him.

"Two teaspoons, right?" I set the tea tray on the wooden table before him, then I sat down on a smaller stool directly across.

"Yes."

I busied myself for a few seconds, mixing honey and tea. I stole a longer glance at his face as I handed him his aluminum teacup, trying to discern what he was thinking and still failing in my attempt to do so, after already countless tries in the past.

"Thank you, Blanca.”

I nodded silently. With my own cup in hand, I straightened and spoke.

"I take it the last job went well?”

“It was completed.” Rukko has always had a thing for semantics, but I suppose precision is his middle name. The left side of his delicate-looking mouth quirked ever so slightly.

"All the same." I smiled slightly. "It’s good to have you back.”

His eyes bored into mine with quiet challenge. "Is it? Mother had quite a tirade last time before I left. I was not sure I would even be welcome to return.” He took a sip of tea, the steam rising to cloud his eyes. Or was it really the smoke that did it? "Has she ordered you to put something in this jasmine brew, as my punishment for not listening to her?”

I had to laugh at that. “Of course not. She never pays. I never do anything without payment, even for family. The first in the Zola rule book. So, no, what you have in your hand really is nothing more remarkable than a cup of tea.”

We sipped our tea in silence for several long moments. I sat and watched my brother go about this simple ritual with his customary negligent languor. He moved as if the tides of the world shifted at his command. At almost thirty, he had already killed more people than I could possibly fit into my greenhouse.

I take great pride in being able to contribute to his kills by designing the array of poisons that he uses on his needles. There were many different kinds—a hundred and twelve.

Poisons that kill by burning or freezing the insides, leaving no visible external marks. Poisons that left absolutely no mark on the victim, save by stopping his heart. Poisons that disfigured temporarily or permanently. Poisons that ate away, outwards or inwards.

Poisons were my specialty and, in more ways than one, a great part of life.

"It won't be long now," Rukko mused aloud, more to himself than to me, "before Timur will learn what we both learned at his age. If he does, and I’m certain he will, I will no longer be compelled to string him along." His eyes slid towards mine, and he blinked slowly.

"I..." I swallowed. The aluminum cup in my hand suddenly felt very cold. This topic was something that everyone in my family conveniently skipped over, or took for granted. Why did he have to bring it up now?

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