Page 28 of Illusionist
I cap the blue can and pull out red, adding a crimson slash beneath my message like a signature written in blood.
“Two minutes,” Elias calls softly.
I step back to admire my work. The blue letters stand out like a bruise against the white siding, impossible to ignore or cover with a quick coat of paint. Malachi's going to see this message first thing when he opens his front door tomorrow morning.
Good morning, Father.
“Done,” Logan announces. “Left him a nice little note about cleansing fire.”
“Mine's more philosophical,” Marek says, appearing beside me like a ghost. “About the weight of buried sins.”
Cole jogs up. “Decorated his precious rose garden with some thoughts about sharp objects and tender flesh. Very poetic.”
“Rowe?” Elias calls.
“Finished,” comes the quiet reply from somewhere near the back patio.
Jonah emerges from the shadows by the garage, brushing his hands off. “Left him something about the strength it takes to break chains.”
We regroup behind the hedge, surveying our handiwork. The house no longer looks pristine. It looks marked. Claimed. Like territory that belongs to us now.
“Beautiful work, gentlemen,” Elias says, and there's genuine pride in his voice. “Phase one complete.”
“Think he'll call the cops?” Logan asks, still buzzing with post-vandalism energy.
“Probably,” I say, tucking the empty cans into my jacket. “But what's he going to tell them? That someone spray-painted his house with vaguely threatening messages? They'll file a report and move on.”
“Besides,” Cole adds, already walking toward the street where we left the van, “we haven't actually threatened him. Just... decorated his property with some philosophical observations.”
“The beauty of psychological warfare,” Marek observes. “Malachi will know exactly who did this and why. But he can't prove anything.”
We pile into the van, pulling off our masks and gloves as Jonah starts the engine. The suburban street looks peaceful again, like nothing happened. But tomorrow morning, every neighbor on this block will see what we left behind.
“How long before he figures out we're here with the carnival?” Rowe asks, staring out the window as we drive past the marked house one last time.
“Day or two,” Elias answers. “He'll start connecting dots once he realizes the Seven Sins Carnival is in town.”
“Good,” I say, a savage satisfaction settling in my chest. “I want him to have time to think about it. Time to wonder which kids are here.”
“Time to wonder what we look like now,” Logan adds with a grin.
Cole starts cleaning under his fingernails with his knife again. “Think he'll run?”
“Where's he going to go?” I shrug. “Man's got too much invested here. Too much to lose.”
“That's what makes this so perfect,” Elias says. “He built himself a life worth protecting. Which means he has something worth taking away.”
The van falls quiet as we head back toward the carnival grounds. Outside, Bellmour sleeps peacefully, unaware that wolves have marked their most respected citizen for slaughter.
“Confession is mercy,” I murmur into the darkness.
“Resistance is punishment,” my brothers respond.
Phase one is complete.
10
TEDDY
