The Dark Artifices: Lady of Los Angeles

Chapter 25

Jules’ POV    

    

He leaned out from his window avoiding the smoke of his cigarette getting into his room. For a he looked back at Isaac and Rebecca. They had now woken up and were playing on the floor. Isaac had found some old wooden toy in the closet. Although this was probably the time she should have gone to bed and preferably be asleep already. It was well past four. This time the moon was up at least. Jules looked up at it. He had painted the moon several times but he could never get it right. He could never get the timelessness and life into the painting.

     He exhaled the smoke slowly. It trailed upwards like the moon had the same gravity as Jules for the earth.

     “Do you have to do that in here?” Isaac asked from behind him.

     Jules butted the cigarette against the wall of the Institute and turned around. “Sorry.” He’d gotten used to the smell, but Emma still complained about it too.

     “Weren’t you and that warlock heading out?”

     “Violeta, is getting her jacket. And checking the whole world history it seems like.” He sat down on the bed looking at them from there. “Is she doing alright?”

     Isaac looked anxiously at the Rebecca who gently held the wooden toy in her hands.

     “As usual. Just because I got her to eat doesn’t mean anything. She’s eaten before, just not every day.”

     “If what you told me about her before was true, I doubt she’s been doing this good for some time. It’s been years since my parents died and a day rarely passes without me thinking about either of them.”

     Isaac seemed surprised, or shocked more likely. “Your parents are dead?” Jules nodded, not wanting to answer that question out loud. “I’m sorry.”

     Jules tried a little smile to break the tension. “Don’t be sorry. You weren’t there.”

     “But you were?”

     “I were.”

     The door burst open revealing Violeta in the doorway. The tension in the room was gone.

     “Buenas noches!”

     “Speak English, please”, Jules pleaded. She had insisted in speaking her mother tongue while Jules listened to her without understanding. The few words he did understand were thanks to his father and uncle who had taught him Latin.

     “Shithead.”

     “Don’t you have any nice words in your vocabulary?” Jules honestly wondered.

     “It’s not my fault your language has so many useful words”, she replied and shrugged.

     “You have your jacket”, he said and looked at the green jacket that matched her hair, “so we’ll go?”

     “Sure. Let’s go, asshat.”

They’d taken the bus and train to the outer parts of the city. They couldn’t see much since it was night. All Jules could see were buildings towering up around him. Not until they’d walked on a narrow path between two rows of houses were they there.

     A big house in old country style. Violeta didn’t stop to knock at the door but just opened it and went in. Jules went after her, confused.

     “Why didn’t you knock?”

     She went up the stairs. The steps were worn down and Jules looked warily down on his feet.