Refugee (The Captive #3)(6)
“Stay covered,” he whispered. She nodded as she slid her hand into his.
CHAPTER 2
“What is a chev…ro…let?”
“Excuse me?” Braith inquired in response to Aria’s halting question.
Braith turned away from Ashby, his attention brought back to the twins as they studied something that he couldn’t see. It was a little disconcerting how similar the scowls on their faces were. Aria turned to him, her gaze inquisitive while William simply continued to look aggravated. She had slipped the hood from her head again, as had William. Their dark auburn hair, dampened by sweat, gleamed in the bright light of the wastelands. It was an annoyingly bright homing beacon in this washed out land of little color. Frustration filled him as he stalked back to them; it was bad enough she didn’t listen to him, but neither did her damn brother.
“That.” Aria thrust her hand out to point at something hidden by a dilapidated building. What was left of the roof was sagging; the walls were leaning toward whatever Aria was pointing at. He stepped around the corner of the building, focusing upon the rusted out hunk of metal housed in what he now recognized as a garage. Years of bad weather and bright sun had stripped the vehicle of any semblance of its former glory except for the back end. The roof of the garage had held up over the ass end, and though it was rusted and falling apart, it was not in as bad of condition as the rest of the car. “What is that?”
“A Chevrolet,” Braith informed her.
She blinked in surprise; her blue eyes were bright even though she squinted from the bright sun. “What?”
“It was an automobile.”
“A what?” the twins asked simultaneously.
Ashby stopped whistling as he walked over to join them, he was grinning as he leaned back on his heels and folded his arms over his chest. Braith would like to punch him, not just for that smug look, but also for all the interference he’d been running between him and Aria for the past two weeks. He tried to tell himself that Ashby was simply missing Melinda and that was why he kept interfering, but Braith was growing tired of it all.
“An automobile,” Braith explained. “At one time humans used them to get around.”
Aria frowned at him; she looked completely confused as she glanced back at the hulking bucket of rust. “Why didn’t they just walk?”
In her world he could understand that question, but a hundred years ago… Well, it had simply been different. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “They were fun though. I had one of these, and a Mustang.”
“So, I had a mustang once too,” William informed him.
Ashby guffawed loudly and even Braith nearly burst out laughing. He managed to keep it contained as both Aria and William shot Ashby disgruntled looks. “A Mustang was a different kind of automobile.”
Aria’s attention returned to the car, her head tilted to the side as she studied it inquisitively. “It doesn’t look like it would get far, walking would be a lot quicker.”
Ashby spun away and walked briskly to the corner of the building. Aria and William couldn’t see him anymore but Braith clearly could. Ashby’s shoulders shook with laughter as he covered his mouth in order to stifle the noise. “It didn’t always look like this,” Braith assured her.
“What did it look like?” William wondered.
“It was pretty, and it was fast. Very fast.”
“Faster than a real mustang?” William inquired.
Ashby was laughing harder now and Braith wanted to throttle him. “Yes,” Braith answered.
They both looked even more confused. Aria shook her head; her hair tumbled around her shoulders and down her back. For a moment he was captivated by the dark red color that flashed with strands of brilliant gold in the bright sun. “Weird,” she muttered.
He didn’t know how to explain to her that it hadn’t been weird at the time. That he had, in fact, actually enjoyed his cars. “Why did they stop making them?” William asked.
Ashby had stopped laughing, he had turned back to them but there was no merriment left on his face. “There was no one to make them after the war was over. They required upkeep and without someone to do that…” Braith shrugged as he ran a hand through his hair. “After a time they became obsolete. Vampires don’t need them to get around so no one particularly cared when they were gone.”
Ashby had moved back to them, he was brave enough to lean against the building as he crossed one leg over the other. “Those first humans, the ones immediately after the war, must have had a tough time,” Aria mused.
Braith had never thought about the humans after the war, never thought about how they had adjusted to their new, and far more brutal, lives. But he had also been newly blinded at the time, (by the jackass leaning against the garage that Braith hoped would crumple under his weight), and trying to adjust to his own difficulties. Turning his thoughts from the past, he grasped hold of her hood and tugged it back into place. She smiled at him; her eyes sparkled as he tucked her hair away and caressed her cheek.
“I’m sure they did,” he agreed.
“Was it really so different?” she asked.
“It was.” She peered up at him as his hands lingered on the hood of her cloak.
William took a step closer, curiosity evident in his eyes that were the same bright shade of blue as his sister’s. “Why did it change so much?” William wondered.