Red

Chapter Eight: Little Brother and Little Sister

Ginger dropped Gran and I back at the seaside so I could pick up my bike. Alice called me just before I left the beach to tell me she'd drop Hansel and Gretel off at my apartment in twenty minutes, which was nowhere near the seaside, so I had to really speed to make it home before the gremlins arrived.

My apartment is small. My apartment is empty. My apartment is not a healthy environment for children. But here I was, with two children semi-legally in my custody.

I heaved a sigh and began fixing up my apartment.

I had just finished setting up the guest room when the doorbell rang.

Alice was at the door with Hansel and Gretel in tow. They both had gotten a haircut- Gretel's hair was now just below her shoulders and had soft curls and Hansel's was at his jaw- and they seemed to have showered. They each held a small suitcase.

"Alice, guys, hi. Sorry if I smell weird, just came off a murder case."

Alice raised an eyebrow as if to say play nice and lightly pushed Hansel and Gretel through my doorway.

"Thanks Red," she said. "I'll be back soon."

"It's no problem," I lied.

The three of us watched Alice disappear down the hallway.

"So, are you guys hungry?" I asked as I shut the door.

They both shrugged but I could see the hungry gleam in their eyes.

"Right." I nodded. "Kitchen's that-a-way."

The kids began to gorge themselves on the bread I'd left on the table as a centerpiece of sorts.

"So. Um. Tell me about yourselves," I began, awkwardly making soup at the stove.

Hansel looked up, his cheeks stuffed. "I'm Hansel and this is Gretel. I'm twelve and she's eight. Our parents hate us. Uh. I like football."

"I hate candy," Gretel muttered.

"Cool. I'm Red, I'm seventeen, I haven't talked to my parents in seven years and I like mysteries."

"You're not even old enough to take care of us," Hansel pointed out.

"Yeah." I split spaghetti in half and tossed it in the bowl. "I know."

"Do you have a job?" he continued.

"Well... technically..."

Hansel rolled his eyes. "Of course you don't. That's just our luck."

I slammed my wooden spoon down on the counter. "Okay, I don't really want two kids at seventeen, but I owe Alice, so here you are. And I've got good food and TV and you know, I don't want to eat you. So let's just make the best of it?"

Hansel took a breath. "Fine. Thanks."

"Besides, I get what you guys went through. I got lost in the woods when I was ten and a wolf tried to eat me and my grandmother," I added.

Gretel, who was drinking a glass of water, spat it out all over the table. "A wolf?"

"A werewolf," I clarified.

Hansel raised an eyebrow. "What, are you Little Red Riding Hood?"

"Why do you think they call me Red?" I asked.

Hansel stared at me. I could see him taking in my tangled brown hair, dark brown skin, and mud brown eyes. Not a stitch of red. He grabbed another piece of bread and jammed it in his mouth.

The doorbell rang again and both kids stared at in its direction expectantly.

"Make sure this doesn't boil over," I directed, going to the door.

Gran was there, running one hand through his thick hair and the other clutching a grocery bag.

"Gran, hey. Do you want to come in?"

Gran handed me the bag. "Mum wanted me to send over some of our old clothes for the kids."

"Really? This is great. I have no clue if they have clothes or anything. Do you want to meet them?'

Gran shrugged. "Sure." [8 000 word mark]

He'd been to my apartment a thousand times, and he knew exactly where he was going. In the kitchen, both Hansel and Gretel stared at him expectantly.

"Is that your boyfriend?" Gretel asked.

I shoved the bag of clothes onto the table. "Gran brought you some clothes."

Easily distracted, Gretel began to dig through the bag. Hansel smirked at me knowingly, and I went back to my soup, leaving Hansel and Gran to talk about sports.

Gran ended up staying for dinner.

"So," Hansel began, "who got murdered?"

Gran looked startled. "What?"

"You're a detective. Don't you solve murders?"

"Well, technically I'm not a detective but yeah, we're investigating a murder."

"Whose murder?" Hansel pressed.

"Actually, it's a serial killer." Gran flinched at my incorrect use of terminology, but I ignored him. "And they're killing princesses."

"That is so cool. I love murders," Hansel gasped, his eyes wide.

Gran looked at me, his lips pressed together, his eyes laughing. "Okay, I can see how you would find that creepy," he told me.

I snorted. "It's much cuter when the kid does it."

"Someone's killing princesses?" Gretel's face was scrunched up like she might cry.

Gran looked terrified. "Princesses? Uh."

"Did he say princesses?" I asked.

"Did I?" Gran's voice went into a falsetto.

Hansel shook his head. "I don't think he said princesses."

"No, I said... pinecones. Pinecones getting murdered," Gran fibbed, his voice still unnaturally high.

"Dratted global warming," I added.

Gretel looked at all three of us before accepting the lie and finishing her soup.

"Pinecones?" I whispered to Gran. "Nice save."

"I bet it's witches," Hansel whispered to the two of us. "it's always witches."

"I don't know, dude," Gran replied. "There aren't any witches in Greater Grimmsville anymore."

"I literally just got imprisoned by a witch," Hansel argued. "But I'd bet anything there's magic involved."

Then I remembered. Hansel was a witch-killer. He was magic, too. And he could probably sense witches.

"Are you..." my voice faltered. In my experience, magic users were volitile. It was not a good idea to piss them off. "Do you know that you're magic?"

Hansel furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Well," I began, "you and your sister killed a witch. You can't kill a witch or a werewolf or a wizard or warlock unless you have magic in your blood."

"I'm what?" He slid back in his chair. "No way. Gretel killed the witch."

"You're siblings, aren't you? Magic is carried through bloodlines. If she has it, you have it too," Gran pointed out softly.

"Gross." Hansel rolled his eyes. "So what, am I a fairy or something?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Gran and I can take you to the Bureau of Magical Affairs tomorrow, get you both checked out."

"Yay," he said sarcastically. "I love going to the doctor."