Title: The Man Who Stole The World
Summary: After the death of his wife and the disappearance of his daughter, mercenary Jones (just Jones) spirals into a deep, drunken depression - until the demoness Elle offers him knowledge of his daughter in exchange for stealing "the world" from a being known as The Collector.
Genre(s): Urban fantasy, supernatural, slash
Warnings: Violence, adult language and concepts, WIP
Book One: One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / Seven / Eight / Nine / Ten / Eleven / Twelve / Thirteen / Fourteen / Fifteen / Sixteen / Seventeen / Eighteen / Nineteen / Twenty / Twenty-One / Twenty-Two / Twenty-Three / Twenty-Four / Twenty-Five / Twenty Six
Book Two: One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / Seven / Eight
Monday, July 28, 2014
Saturday, September 3, 2011
New Novel
This story hasn't been abandoned, but it's going to sit for a bit before I edit it or write the sequel. For more of my writing, watch this space: http://boysofwinter.blogspot.com/
Saturday, August 27, 2011
The Man Who Stole The World - Epilogue
A series of hard knocks on the front door brought Andraeon out of his doze in front of the TV and startled him into sitting upright so quickly his back cracked. Rubbing at his eyes with one hand, he pushed himself out of the armchair and went to answer the door, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling that had settled in his belly.
“Hey Drae,” Shasta said when he opened the door. “Long time no see. Is Gr—um, is Jones in?”
“He’s out. Working.” Reluctantly Andraeon stood aside and waved for Shasta to come in. “Want a drink?”
“Sure. Got any coffee?”
“Somewhere.” Andraeon led the way into the kitchen and turned the coffee pot on, setting out a mug for Shasta and pouring himself a glass of orange juice. “How’s Shiki?”
“Very Shiki. He’s got a new student, a little girl. She reminds me a bit of Emily, only, you know, not so... screamy.”
“She’s gotten a lot better in the past few months,” Andraeon said, not sure why he felt so defensive over a girl who still just barely tolerated him around her father.
“Well, I wouldn’t know, would I?” Shasta accepted the mug of steaming coffee from him and set it on the table to cool slightly. “Since you guys practically dropped off the face of the world six months ago.”
“Sorry, we’ve been busy.” Andraeon took the other seat at the kitchen table and sipped his juice, thinking back over the months since they’d left Kaede’s house. It hadn’t seemed that long but they had spent a lot of time finding somewhere to live—Jones’s old apartment was too small for two adults and two children, especially when one of the children was Emily—and Jones had been picking up any job he could find to support them. Even now he was out acting as someone’s bodyguard, though it was nearly midnight.
“Uh-huh. When’s he supposed to be home?”
“In the next couple of hours. I can tell him to call you.”
Shasta raised an eyebrow. “But will you? I’m pretty sure you’d be perfectly happy to have him completely forget I exist.” He shrugged. “Well, now’s not the time for this... discussion. I really need to talk to Jones, and you too. It’s about Elle.”
“Is she back?”
“I think so. My friend Khaldros says he saw her at The Market, where he sometimes goes to sell things with his sister and Kalani. She had a child with her.”
Andraeon turned it over in his mind for a few minutes, steadily drinking his orange juice, then set the glass down and got to his feet. “I’ll give Jones a call.” He grabbed the phone and called Jones’s cell phone, crossing his fingers that Jones would actually pick up.
He was just about to give up when Jones finally answered, his voice sounding distant and crackly over the line. Andraeon told him what Shasta had said and nodded when Jones said he’d be home soon, relaying the message to Shasta when he hung up.
“Great. Now we can sit here in awkward silence until he shows. Or we could get really awkward and you could tell me why you don’t like me.”
“You tried to kill Jones and kidnap me, and also, you’re obnoxious.”
“Awkward silence it is then.” Shasta put his chin in his hands, glancing around the kitchen.
Andraeon let him sit, putting his empty glass in the sink and excusing himself to go check on the kids, who had gone to bed a few hours earlier. He heard the door open as he was heading back down and picked up his pace so he could greet Jones in the hallway, giving him a tight hug. Jones hugged him back with one arm but Andraeon could tell his mind was already on Shasta and the information Shasta was bringing them. With a sigh Andraeon let him go and followed him into the kitchen, fighting off a strong surge of jealousy when Shasta hugged Jones as well and Jones allowed it without complaint.
When they’d all sat down again Shasta repeated what he’d told Andraeon, and added, “Khaldros wanted to talk to you about it. He’s trying to find out what she was there for, and if she bought anything or told anyone where she was going.”
“You’ve already decided to chase after her, huh?” Jones shook his head slightly. “Is it worth it?”
“You want another Drae running around, this one under Elle’s control? I want to find out what she’s up to, if nothing else. I thought you’d like to know, but I can just as easily go alone.”
Andraeon saw Jones glance at him and shrugged in response. “He has a point. Elle’s always up to something and... I don’t really think she’s done with us yet.”
Jones nodded. “I’ll talk to Kaede tomorrow morning and see if she’ll look after the kids for a few days. I’m beat, it’s been a long day. Staying over, Shasta?”
“Yeah, I’ll crash on your couch.” Shasta got up and stretched. “Just toss me a blanket or two.”
“I’ll see you upstairs, Drae.” Jones led Shasta into the living room and Andraeon heard the low murmur of their voices as they set up the couch for Shasta to sleep on.
Feeling out of sorts, Andraeon made his way upstairs and changed into his pyjamas before climbing into his side of the bed. He settled on his back with his arms under his head and waited for Jones, trying not to doze off before Jones came upstairs. He was still nearly asleep when Jones finally joined him, sliding under the blankets beside him. Andraeon rolled over and wrapped both arms around him, snuggling in, and only then let himself fall fully into sleep.
In his dreams he found himself standing at the entrance to a broad expanse of shops and stalls, surrounded by bright fields of thick grass. It was dark here and quiet, though there were some lights on and he saw a few people drifting through the paths. After a moment’s hesitation he walked through the entrance—which read The Market in ornate script across the top of the gate—and started looking around. The stalls were closed up but he caught a few glimpses of the things they contained; a riot of colours and objects, clothes, toys, weapons, and other things he couldn’t quite identify.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up the straight line of the path he was standing on. A child stood at the other end, small and slight; he couldn’t tell if it was a little girl or a little boy. The child was wearing an oversized hoodie with sleeves so long their hands were covered and baggy jeans, but bare feet. Dark hair fell into the child’s eyes, which were a brilliant green.
“You’re Drae,” the child said.
“That’s me.” He took a cautious step closer. “What’s your name?”
“I wanted to see you in person,” the child continued, ignoring his question. “You’re... younger than I expected.”
Andraeon laughed a bit. “You’re just a kid.”
The child gave him a long, cool look. “I’m stronger than you. I’ll be waiting when you come.” The child nodded to him, like they were equals, and turned off the path, soon vanishing into the shadows around the stalls. Feeling disquieted, Andraeon willed himself back to his sleeping body and opened his eyes, checking to make sure Jones still slept beside him. He only settled back again when he’d listened to Jones’s steady breathing for a few moments and rested a hand on his bare chest to feel the warmth of his skin. When he fell asleep this time he didn’t dream.
He meant to tell Jones about the dreamwalk in the morning, but in the bustle of getting the kids up and ready to go to Kaede’s, he didn’t get a chance. He was the last to go through the gate Shasta opened in the living room, and he hesitated a moment before stepping through, glancing back into the apartment and trying to shake the feeling that he would never see it again. Then, shaking his head, he stepped through the gate.
“Hey Drae,” Shasta said when he opened the door. “Long time no see. Is Gr—um, is Jones in?”
“He’s out. Working.” Reluctantly Andraeon stood aside and waved for Shasta to come in. “Want a drink?”
“Sure. Got any coffee?”
“Somewhere.” Andraeon led the way into the kitchen and turned the coffee pot on, setting out a mug for Shasta and pouring himself a glass of orange juice. “How’s Shiki?”
“Very Shiki. He’s got a new student, a little girl. She reminds me a bit of Emily, only, you know, not so... screamy.”
“She’s gotten a lot better in the past few months,” Andraeon said, not sure why he felt so defensive over a girl who still just barely tolerated him around her father.
“Well, I wouldn’t know, would I?” Shasta accepted the mug of steaming coffee from him and set it on the table to cool slightly. “Since you guys practically dropped off the face of the world six months ago.”
“Sorry, we’ve been busy.” Andraeon took the other seat at the kitchen table and sipped his juice, thinking back over the months since they’d left Kaede’s house. It hadn’t seemed that long but they had spent a lot of time finding somewhere to live—Jones’s old apartment was too small for two adults and two children, especially when one of the children was Emily—and Jones had been picking up any job he could find to support them. Even now he was out acting as someone’s bodyguard, though it was nearly midnight.
“Uh-huh. When’s he supposed to be home?”
“In the next couple of hours. I can tell him to call you.”
Shasta raised an eyebrow. “But will you? I’m pretty sure you’d be perfectly happy to have him completely forget I exist.” He shrugged. “Well, now’s not the time for this... discussion. I really need to talk to Jones, and you too. It’s about Elle.”
“Is she back?”
“I think so. My friend Khaldros says he saw her at The Market, where he sometimes goes to sell things with his sister and Kalani. She had a child with her.”
Andraeon turned it over in his mind for a few minutes, steadily drinking his orange juice, then set the glass down and got to his feet. “I’ll give Jones a call.” He grabbed the phone and called Jones’s cell phone, crossing his fingers that Jones would actually pick up.
He was just about to give up when Jones finally answered, his voice sounding distant and crackly over the line. Andraeon told him what Shasta had said and nodded when Jones said he’d be home soon, relaying the message to Shasta when he hung up.
“Great. Now we can sit here in awkward silence until he shows. Or we could get really awkward and you could tell me why you don’t like me.”
“You tried to kill Jones and kidnap me, and also, you’re obnoxious.”
“Awkward silence it is then.” Shasta put his chin in his hands, glancing around the kitchen.
Andraeon let him sit, putting his empty glass in the sink and excusing himself to go check on the kids, who had gone to bed a few hours earlier. He heard the door open as he was heading back down and picked up his pace so he could greet Jones in the hallway, giving him a tight hug. Jones hugged him back with one arm but Andraeon could tell his mind was already on Shasta and the information Shasta was bringing them. With a sigh Andraeon let him go and followed him into the kitchen, fighting off a strong surge of jealousy when Shasta hugged Jones as well and Jones allowed it without complaint.
When they’d all sat down again Shasta repeated what he’d told Andraeon, and added, “Khaldros wanted to talk to you about it. He’s trying to find out what she was there for, and if she bought anything or told anyone where she was going.”
“You’ve already decided to chase after her, huh?” Jones shook his head slightly. “Is it worth it?”
“You want another Drae running around, this one under Elle’s control? I want to find out what she’s up to, if nothing else. I thought you’d like to know, but I can just as easily go alone.”
Andraeon saw Jones glance at him and shrugged in response. “He has a point. Elle’s always up to something and... I don’t really think she’s done with us yet.”
Jones nodded. “I’ll talk to Kaede tomorrow morning and see if she’ll look after the kids for a few days. I’m beat, it’s been a long day. Staying over, Shasta?”
“Yeah, I’ll crash on your couch.” Shasta got up and stretched. “Just toss me a blanket or two.”
“I’ll see you upstairs, Drae.” Jones led Shasta into the living room and Andraeon heard the low murmur of their voices as they set up the couch for Shasta to sleep on.
Feeling out of sorts, Andraeon made his way upstairs and changed into his pyjamas before climbing into his side of the bed. He settled on his back with his arms under his head and waited for Jones, trying not to doze off before Jones came upstairs. He was still nearly asleep when Jones finally joined him, sliding under the blankets beside him. Andraeon rolled over and wrapped both arms around him, snuggling in, and only then let himself fall fully into sleep.
In his dreams he found himself standing at the entrance to a broad expanse of shops and stalls, surrounded by bright fields of thick grass. It was dark here and quiet, though there were some lights on and he saw a few people drifting through the paths. After a moment’s hesitation he walked through the entrance—which read The Market in ornate script across the top of the gate—and started looking around. The stalls were closed up but he caught a few glimpses of the things they contained; a riot of colours and objects, clothes, toys, weapons, and other things he couldn’t quite identify.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up the straight line of the path he was standing on. A child stood at the other end, small and slight; he couldn’t tell if it was a little girl or a little boy. The child was wearing an oversized hoodie with sleeves so long their hands were covered and baggy jeans, but bare feet. Dark hair fell into the child’s eyes, which were a brilliant green.
“You’re Drae,” the child said.
“That’s me.” He took a cautious step closer. “What’s your name?”
“I wanted to see you in person,” the child continued, ignoring his question. “You’re... younger than I expected.”
Andraeon laughed a bit. “You’re just a kid.”
The child gave him a long, cool look. “I’m stronger than you. I’ll be waiting when you come.” The child nodded to him, like they were equals, and turned off the path, soon vanishing into the shadows around the stalls. Feeling disquieted, Andraeon willed himself back to his sleeping body and opened his eyes, checking to make sure Jones still slept beside him. He only settled back again when he’d listened to Jones’s steady breathing for a few moments and rested a hand on his bare chest to feel the warmth of his skin. When he fell asleep this time he didn’t dream.
He meant to tell Jones about the dreamwalk in the morning, but in the bustle of getting the kids up and ready to go to Kaede’s, he didn’t get a chance. He was the last to go through the gate Shasta opened in the living room, and he hesitated a moment before stepping through, glancing back into the apartment and trying to shake the feeling that he would never see it again. Then, shaking his head, he stepped through the gate.
Friday, August 26, 2011
The Man Who Stole The World Part Two - Chapter Twenty Six
Sunlight creeping across his face woke Jones from a dreamless sleep. For a moment he just lay there, feeling warm and comfortable. His head was clearer than he had expected and even the urge to find the nearest bottle of beer and down it had been tamped down to a dull roar. Shasta still slept beside him, snoring gently, one hand curled up under his chin like a child. A lock of dark hair had fallen across his face in a comma and Jones reached out to brush it away, absently thinking of the times he’d done that for Drae. The thought made him feel suddenly sick and he shoved it away to the back of his mind before it could trigger the urge to drink again.
He realized Shasta had opened his eyes and took his hand away, pushing himself up to a sitting position. Shasta snorted a laugh and poked him in the ribs, making him jump.
“I thought we weren’t going to be weird. Grey.”
“This isn’t weird. We just have things to do.”
“You still want to try and lure Aloria into the Kingsblack’s jaws? She’ll smell it coming from a mile away.”
“You got a better suggestion?” Jones asked, irritated.
“Stay in bed with me all day.”
Jones rolled his eyes and shoved himself out of bed, though he was forced to stop and look back when Shasta caught his hand. “What?”
“Sorry. It was just a bad joke.” Shasta’s eyes searched his face and he offered half a smile. “Forgive me, Grey?”
“Quit calling me that. This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“Hey, you wanna go get changed? You seem to have put on your cranky pants again.” Shasta released his hand and got to his feet. “I’m going to go see about breakfast.”
“Bacon and scrambled eggs?” Jones asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.
“Smart boy.” Shasta stood on tiptoe to kiss him, so quickly that Jones barely felt the warmth of his mouth, then he was gone out the door. Jones looked after him for a long moment, then shook his head and went into the bathroom to have a shower.
When he went down into the kitchen, with his hair still damp from the shower and his face freshly shaven, he found both Shasta and Shiki waiting for him, already eating breakfast. Shasta motioned towards a covered plate with his fork, his mouth full of food. Nodding to him in silent thanks, Jones took the plate to the table and sat down to eat, downing half his mug of coffee in one go.
“So Shasta says you want to try and get Aloria into the between places?” Shiki asked once he’d cleaned off most of his plate.
Jones nodded, swallowing the last mouthful. “If we can get her there and trap her there, then the Kingsblack will take care of her.”
“Are you sure? You’ll be in a lot of danger if something goes wrong.”
“I’m pretty sure about it,” Jones said after a moment of thought. “And something has to be done. Now more than ever.”
“I know.” Shiki chewed on his thumbnail, eyes going distant as he thought. “I don’t think the trouble will be getting her there. If she thinks it’ll give her a chance at you, then I think she’ll do it. It’ll be keeping her from killing you and disappearing again before the Kingsblack can find you. And of course, protecting you from the Kingsblack as well.”
“I’m not as worried about that.” Jones caught Shasta’s look and held up a hand. “I’m not going to try and get myself killed. I’m just more concerned with taking care of Aloria first. If she gets away, she’s not going to give us a chance to try and trap her again. But if she does kill me, or the Kingsblack does, you and Kaede will look after Emily and Andy, right?”
“Of course,” Shiki said, echoed by Shasta. “But don’t plan on dying.”
“I’ll be there to watch your back,” Shasta said. Jones saw the look Shiki shot him but Shasta ignored it. “You didn’t think you’d do it alone, did you?”
“I was thinking more of Shiki.”
“Hey! The between places are mine. I love you, Shiki, but even you have to admit that.” Shasta turned an angry, slightly pleading look on Shiki.
Shiki held up both hands in a placating gesture. “There’s no reason we can’t both go.”
“Shasta’s too tempting a target,” Jones said, pushing his plate away and getting up to refill his coffee mug. “The Kingsblack’s already gone after him alone when it would’ve been easier for it to go after someone else, like me. It seems overly aggressive towards him.” He glanced at Shasta, who had narrowed his eyes.
“Hey, Shik, excuse us for a sec.” Shasta got up and grabbed Jones’s wrist, pulling him out into the empty living room. “All right, spill it. You know something I don’t. Picked up something when we went there last night.” His voice dropped on the last few words and he glanced cautiously at the entrance to the kitchen then at the empty stairs.
“It did attack you instead of me. And I was closer.” Jones reached out without thinking to stroke Shasta’s cheek. “I don’t want it targeting you.”
“You mean you don’t want me distracting it from Aloria.”
“That too.” Jones dropped his hand. “This is too important for you to fuck up.”
“For me to fuck up? You do a pretty good job of fucking things up all on your own. Hell, you’ve been fucking things up from day one. Good job, Jonesy, gold star for you.” Shasta started to clap sarcastically but Jones caught his hands and stopped him.
“Knock it off. You’re just making me more certain that you need to stay here. Look after the kids for me, Emily likes you. Stay out of the way and stay safe.”
“No. You can try to order me around but you can’t make me do anything. So you can stop treating me like a child and include me, or you can go fuck yourself.”
“Grow up, Shasta.” Jones dropped his hands. “Don’t you dare sabotage any of this just because you’re sulking.”
“I’m not—” Shasta stopped himself and took a deep breath, visibly fighting for control. “I wouldn’t do that. I’m just not going to let you push me aside for a stupid reason. You pulled this same crap on Drae.”
“And he’s dead,” Jones snapped, “so obviously I didn’t protect him well enough. Do whatever you want, I won’t be responsible for it.” He turned and headed for the stairs, ignoring Shasta calling his name.
Emily met him at the top of the stairs, almost as though she had been waiting for him. She took his hand and led him into her bedroom without speaking; her manner was so reserved that he thought something might be wrong with Andy, but Andy was playing quietly with a handful of toy soldiers he’d found somewhere. Jones sat down on the bed and pulled Emily up onto his lap, stroking her hair when she buried her face against his chest. She didn’t cry but he could feel how tense her narrow shoulders were, and the stiffness in the way she huddled against him.
He tried asking her what was wrong but she refused to answer him, shaking her head back and forth when he asked her to do so. Sighing, he just continued to stroke her hair, opening up his arm to Andy when the boy came over and climbed onto the bed beside him. They sat in silence for long moments, until Emily sighed and raised her head, studying Jones’s face intently.
“What’s up, Em?” he asked again.
“I’m scared you won’t come back,” she said finally.
“Of course I’ll be coming back,” Jones said, trying not to think of how she would even know he was planning to leave again.
“You might not want to come back.”
“I’ll always want to come back to you. I promise.”
She narrowed her eyes and searched his face, then reluctantly nodded. “You have to pinky swear me.” She held out her hand, pinky finger extended. Smiling a little, Jones hooked his own pinky finger around hers and gently shook their joined hands.
He spent the rest of the morning playing quietly with Emily and Andy, once he had convinced them to stop clinging to him. At lunch he got them seated in front of the television with sandwiches and chips, then joined Shiki and Shasta in the kitchen. They ate their own sandwiches in silence, each of them caught up in their own thoughts.
“Here’s the plan,” Jones said when they were done. “If Shasta’s going to insist on coming, then we are going to the between places. Shiki, I need you to go find her. Find her and send her to us. Think you can?”
“I’ll do my best.” Shiki pushed his chair back and got up. “You ready?”
Jones exchanged a glance with Shasta and they both nodded. Taking a breath, Shiki gave them each a brief hug, startling Jones, then he disappeared. An instant later Shasta grabbed Jones’s hand and pulled him through into the fog of the between places, closing the gate behind them. Jones kept hold of him as they stood and waited, looking around cautiously for any sign of the Kingsblack or Aloria.
They arrived almost together, Aloria from one direction—alone—and the Kingsblack from the other. Jones shoved Shasta back behind him, hands itching for his guns, and faced Aloria, hoping she hadn’t yet noticed the Kingsblack slinking through the thick fog. He saw Aloria smile, just slightly, then something invisible wrapped around his throat and squeezed, neatly cutting off his air. He dug at it with his nails but only scratched his own throat, fighting to draw in even a single breath.
Behind him Shasta was yelling something, his voice high and breathless, but all Jones could think about was the pressure around his neck and the burning sensation building in his lungs.
He looked away from Aloria’s smile to search for the Kingsblack but the creature seemed to have disappeared. Dark spots floated across his vision and he sensed more than saw Aloria walk through the fog towards him. She tangled her fingers in his hair and yanked his head back, exposing the long line of his throat. Briefly he wondered where Shasta was, then he threw a hand up and caught Aloria’s wrist as she brought a slim knife flashing down towards his exposed throat. Weakened by the lack of air he had to struggle against her strength and felt the cold edge of the blade for an instant before he managed to shove her away.
“You just won’t die, will you, Jones?” Aloria said, admiration colouring her voice.
He flipped her the finger, aware that it was a very Shasta thing to do. As if the thought had summoned him, Shasta appeared suddenly in Jones’ rapidly narrowing field of vision, swinging his clasped fists at the back of his aunt’s head with all his strength. Aloria stumbled and went to one knee, and the band around Jones’s throat loosened just enough for him to grab a breath of air. He saw Aloria get up and felt her lash out at Shasta, hitting him so hard he collapsed like a rag doll.
Acting entirely on instinct Jones choked out the word he’d heard Aloria use on Andraeon’s cuffs, hearing it in his mind so clearly it was as though someone were whispering it to him.
A long black tail whipped through the fog and wrapped around Aloria’s calf, yanking her off her feet and dragging her across the flat ground. The Kingsblack’s head reared up into the slate grey sky and it lifted her upside down into the air, turning its head in order to look at her with one starry eye. Jones could hear her panting breaths but she didn’t make any other noise; only hit the creature with a blow that Jones felt deep inside his bones, though it was nothing to what he had felt with Andraeon.
The Kingsblack jerked back a little then its head whipped forward, long teeth bared. Jones squeezed his eyes shut as she started to scream, covering his ears with both hands to try and drown out the sound of crunching bones. He stumbled towards Shasta, opening his eyes just enough to see his way and looking fixedly at the ground, and went down on his knees beside him. Shasta’s eyes were closed and blood ran in twin streams from his nose, but he was still breathing and the pulse under Jones’s fingers was strong and steady.
A shadow fell across them and Jones looked up slowly, automatically reaching a hand down to his hip for a gun that wasn’t there. The Kingsblack lowered its dripping snout towards him and blew out a hot breath of air, spattering him with still-warm blood. He flinched back, grimacing at the sensation, but didn’t move from his protective crouch over Shasta’s limp form, trying to stare the creature down.
“I don’t know what you are or why you’re here,” he said quietly, “but you’re not having Shasta too. Leave him.”
The Kingsblack continued to study him, its expression—if it could be said to have one—almost curious. Then its tail whipped forward and shoved Jones away from Shasta, leaving Shasta unprotected. Jones tried to get up but the tail smacked him down again as it opened its mouth almost delicately above Shasta’s still body.
Desperately Jones grabbed at his hip again, and then time his hand encountered the hard butt of a gun. He didn’t stop to think about how it was there now when he’d lost both weapons along with Andraeon; he just pulled it free and fired at the Kingsblack’s massive head. The bullets slammed into the soft, scale-less area near the night sky of its eye and dark blood dripped down, flinging out in thick droplets as it jerked its head away. As it turned to flee, Jones pulled the trigger again and again, until the gun only clicked, its chambers empty.
The creature wavered only a few feet more before collapsing, shaking the ground so hard Jones, who was trying to get to his feet, lost his balance and fell again, cracking his elbow hard against the ground. His fingers went numb and he dropped the gun; as it hit the fog it faded away and disappeared. Swearing under his breath, Jones looked quickly at the Kingsblack but it lay where it had fallen, an immense black shape in the drifting fog.
Steeling himself, Jones got up again and cautiously approached it, glancing back over his shoulder every few seconds to try and keep Shasta in sight. His footsteps slowed as he approached the Kingsblack’s enormous head but it didn’t move even when he carefully walked right up to its half-open mouth. His heart beating so hard he could hear his own pulse inside his ears, he reached out to cautiously press his fingertips against the bloody scales on its snout.
“Hey Jonesy.” For a moment he thought the Kingsblack had spoke to him, and his heart stuttered in its rapid beat. He jerked away and spun when he realized the voice had come from behind him, and wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or not when he saw Elle standing there.
“What do you want?” He stepped away from the Kingsblack’s rapidly cooling head, absently wiping his hand against his jeans. Almost unconsciously he moved so that he was blocking Elle’s view of Shasta.
“I’ve been waiting for you to get rid of this thing for weeks.” Elle stepped up and ran a finger down one of the Kingsblack’s long teeth.
“Why?”
“I need something from it.” She put a foot on a protruding scale and climbed up the Kingsblack’s massive head until she was next to its eye, which was easily twice as big as her head. Taking a long knife from a sheath on her belt, she began to cut around it, causing thick dark blood to shower down into the fog.
Sickened, Jones turned away, trying to block out the gristly sound. He started back towards Shasta then reluctantly turned back when Elle snapped his name, shuddering a little as he reached up to help her bring the eye down. To his surprise it was hard and faceted, like a dark blue diamond filled with stars, and heavy enough that he struggled to hold it up. He gently set it down in the fog, trying not to think about the sticky blood soaking slowly into his shirt.
“Help me with the other one,” Elle ordered, walking around the Kingsblack’s nose to the other side. Reluctantly Jones followed her, not even sure why he didn’t tell her to go to hell. The second one took longer to get out and Elle was red from fingertips to elbows and all over her clothes by the time she handed it down to Jones.
“What the hell are you going to do with these?” Jones asked, carrying the second one around to join the first.
“Don’t let them touch.” Elle waved a hand down herself and the blood disappeared from both her clothes and her skin. “I’m going to keep this one,” she placed a hand on the first, “and I guess you can have the other.”
“I don’t want it,” Jones said, grimacing.
“Sure about that?” Elle went back over to the Kingsblack and leaned into its mouth, making Jones tense painfully as he waited for the teeth to snap shut on her. Nothing happened and after a few minutes Elle straightened up with something in her hand. When she held it out to him, the dog tag slipped through her fingers and dangled on its chain below her hand.
Hesitantly Jones reached out and took it from her, giving it only a cursory glance to see that it was definitely his missing tag. He folded it in his hand and shoved it into his pocket. “Going to bother telling me how this ended up here? Another of your little plants?”
“No, you moron. Humans, honestly.” She picked up one of the starry eyes and tossed it to him as though it weighed nothing.
He reached out to catch it automatically and had a confused moment where it suddenly seemed so much bigger. The weight caught him off-guard and knocked him back, and he tumbled to the ground not with an enormous diamond in his arms but a warm body. For a moment he just sprawled there, feeling solid weight and steady breathing against his chest, then reached with a shaky hand to brush aside thick black hair, gently stroking a line down Andraeon’s cheek. At his touch Andraeon opened his eyes and gave him a sleepy look, one corner of his mouth curving up in a sleepy smile.
Jones caught his face in both hands and kissed him, tasting the slight salty tang of blood on his mouth. Andraeon’s fingers tangled in his hair and he pressed his body up against Jones, only letting him go when they were both out of breath and panting for air. Still cupping his face, Jones studied him intently, trying to see anything different in his features or in his eyes; anything that would prove to him that this was really Andraeon—or wasn’t.
“I’m me, I promise,” Andraeon said, as though he’d read Jones’s mind—and Jones wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t.
“How do I know that?” Jones asked, but he couldn’t stop himself stroking Andraeon’s hair again.
“Trust me?” Andraeon kissed the corner of his mouth. “Take me to Shasta or Shiki, they’d know, right?”
“In a minute.” Jones looked for Elle, meaning to ask her what—or who—was in the other diamond eye, but she had vanished along with it. He hesitated, glancing around, then got to his feet and helped Andraeon up, taking his hand to lead him towards where he’d left Shasta.
Shasta was sitting up when they got there, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand and spitting to clear out his mouth. He glanced up at their approach and his slight smile faded into an expression of astonishment when he saw Andraeon, then became an odd look of wistfulness and something else that Jones couldn’t quite read.
“I’m glad you’re back, Drae,” he said, mustering up another smile.
“Then he’s real?” Jones tightened his grip on Andraeon’s hand. “He’s really Drae?”
“Yeah. Not a copy this time.” Shasta shook his head. “Let’s get the hell out of here and find Shiki.” He opened a gate for them and ducked through after a quick glance at the Kingsblack’s corpse.
Jones followed, tugging Andraeon through with him. They came out in Kaede’s living room, where the children still sat watching TV. Jones glanced out the window and saw it was close to dusk; they’d been gone at least 6 hours. He only let go of Andraeon to kneel down and hug Emily when she came rushing over to him, though she wrinkled her nose at the blood on his clothes and wrinkled it again when she saw Andraeon. He thought for a moment that she might make her displeasure more clearly known, but she looked at his face and just nodded instead, going back to her seat beside Andy.
Shiki appeared suddenly, relief clear on his face when he saw them all; and when he saw Andraeon his face lit up with real pleasure. The whirlwind of swapping stories and all of them trying to talk at once made Jones realize just how tired he was, and he sat down heavily on the couch to let them talk, covering a wide yawn with one hand. He saw Andraeon look over at him, then he excused himself from Shasta and Shiki to come over and take Jones’s hand.
“Want to go to bed?” he asked softly. “We can talk more when you’re rested.”
Jones nodded and got to his feet, lifting his free hand in half a wave to Shasta and Shiki. Shiki nodded back to him but Shasta only looked at him for a long time, his face unreadable, before he smiled slightly and gave him a brief salute. Sliding his hand back into Andraeon’s, Jones headed upstairs to sleep.
He realized Shasta had opened his eyes and took his hand away, pushing himself up to a sitting position. Shasta snorted a laugh and poked him in the ribs, making him jump.
“I thought we weren’t going to be weird. Grey.”
“This isn’t weird. We just have things to do.”
“You still want to try and lure Aloria into the Kingsblack’s jaws? She’ll smell it coming from a mile away.”
“You got a better suggestion?” Jones asked, irritated.
“Stay in bed with me all day.”
Jones rolled his eyes and shoved himself out of bed, though he was forced to stop and look back when Shasta caught his hand. “What?”
“Sorry. It was just a bad joke.” Shasta’s eyes searched his face and he offered half a smile. “Forgive me, Grey?”
“Quit calling me that. This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“Hey, you wanna go get changed? You seem to have put on your cranky pants again.” Shasta released his hand and got to his feet. “I’m going to go see about breakfast.”
“Bacon and scrambled eggs?” Jones asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.
“Smart boy.” Shasta stood on tiptoe to kiss him, so quickly that Jones barely felt the warmth of his mouth, then he was gone out the door. Jones looked after him for a long moment, then shook his head and went into the bathroom to have a shower.
When he went down into the kitchen, with his hair still damp from the shower and his face freshly shaven, he found both Shasta and Shiki waiting for him, already eating breakfast. Shasta motioned towards a covered plate with his fork, his mouth full of food. Nodding to him in silent thanks, Jones took the plate to the table and sat down to eat, downing half his mug of coffee in one go.
“So Shasta says you want to try and get Aloria into the between places?” Shiki asked once he’d cleaned off most of his plate.
Jones nodded, swallowing the last mouthful. “If we can get her there and trap her there, then the Kingsblack will take care of her.”
“Are you sure? You’ll be in a lot of danger if something goes wrong.”
“I’m pretty sure about it,” Jones said after a moment of thought. “And something has to be done. Now more than ever.”
“I know.” Shiki chewed on his thumbnail, eyes going distant as he thought. “I don’t think the trouble will be getting her there. If she thinks it’ll give her a chance at you, then I think she’ll do it. It’ll be keeping her from killing you and disappearing again before the Kingsblack can find you. And of course, protecting you from the Kingsblack as well.”
“I’m not as worried about that.” Jones caught Shasta’s look and held up a hand. “I’m not going to try and get myself killed. I’m just more concerned with taking care of Aloria first. If she gets away, she’s not going to give us a chance to try and trap her again. But if she does kill me, or the Kingsblack does, you and Kaede will look after Emily and Andy, right?”
“Of course,” Shiki said, echoed by Shasta. “But don’t plan on dying.”
“I’ll be there to watch your back,” Shasta said. Jones saw the look Shiki shot him but Shasta ignored it. “You didn’t think you’d do it alone, did you?”
“I was thinking more of Shiki.”
“Hey! The between places are mine. I love you, Shiki, but even you have to admit that.” Shasta turned an angry, slightly pleading look on Shiki.
Shiki held up both hands in a placating gesture. “There’s no reason we can’t both go.”
“Shasta’s too tempting a target,” Jones said, pushing his plate away and getting up to refill his coffee mug. “The Kingsblack’s already gone after him alone when it would’ve been easier for it to go after someone else, like me. It seems overly aggressive towards him.” He glanced at Shasta, who had narrowed his eyes.
“Hey, Shik, excuse us for a sec.” Shasta got up and grabbed Jones’s wrist, pulling him out into the empty living room. “All right, spill it. You know something I don’t. Picked up something when we went there last night.” His voice dropped on the last few words and he glanced cautiously at the entrance to the kitchen then at the empty stairs.
“It did attack you instead of me. And I was closer.” Jones reached out without thinking to stroke Shasta’s cheek. “I don’t want it targeting you.”
“You mean you don’t want me distracting it from Aloria.”
“That too.” Jones dropped his hand. “This is too important for you to fuck up.”
“For me to fuck up? You do a pretty good job of fucking things up all on your own. Hell, you’ve been fucking things up from day one. Good job, Jonesy, gold star for you.” Shasta started to clap sarcastically but Jones caught his hands and stopped him.
“Knock it off. You’re just making me more certain that you need to stay here. Look after the kids for me, Emily likes you. Stay out of the way and stay safe.”
“No. You can try to order me around but you can’t make me do anything. So you can stop treating me like a child and include me, or you can go fuck yourself.”
“Grow up, Shasta.” Jones dropped his hands. “Don’t you dare sabotage any of this just because you’re sulking.”
“I’m not—” Shasta stopped himself and took a deep breath, visibly fighting for control. “I wouldn’t do that. I’m just not going to let you push me aside for a stupid reason. You pulled this same crap on Drae.”
“And he’s dead,” Jones snapped, “so obviously I didn’t protect him well enough. Do whatever you want, I won’t be responsible for it.” He turned and headed for the stairs, ignoring Shasta calling his name.
Emily met him at the top of the stairs, almost as though she had been waiting for him. She took his hand and led him into her bedroom without speaking; her manner was so reserved that he thought something might be wrong with Andy, but Andy was playing quietly with a handful of toy soldiers he’d found somewhere. Jones sat down on the bed and pulled Emily up onto his lap, stroking her hair when she buried her face against his chest. She didn’t cry but he could feel how tense her narrow shoulders were, and the stiffness in the way she huddled against him.
He tried asking her what was wrong but she refused to answer him, shaking her head back and forth when he asked her to do so. Sighing, he just continued to stroke her hair, opening up his arm to Andy when the boy came over and climbed onto the bed beside him. They sat in silence for long moments, until Emily sighed and raised her head, studying Jones’s face intently.
“What’s up, Em?” he asked again.
“I’m scared you won’t come back,” she said finally.
“Of course I’ll be coming back,” Jones said, trying not to think of how she would even know he was planning to leave again.
“You might not want to come back.”
“I’ll always want to come back to you. I promise.”
She narrowed her eyes and searched his face, then reluctantly nodded. “You have to pinky swear me.” She held out her hand, pinky finger extended. Smiling a little, Jones hooked his own pinky finger around hers and gently shook their joined hands.
He spent the rest of the morning playing quietly with Emily and Andy, once he had convinced them to stop clinging to him. At lunch he got them seated in front of the television with sandwiches and chips, then joined Shiki and Shasta in the kitchen. They ate their own sandwiches in silence, each of them caught up in their own thoughts.
“Here’s the plan,” Jones said when they were done. “If Shasta’s going to insist on coming, then we are going to the between places. Shiki, I need you to go find her. Find her and send her to us. Think you can?”
“I’ll do my best.” Shiki pushed his chair back and got up. “You ready?”
Jones exchanged a glance with Shasta and they both nodded. Taking a breath, Shiki gave them each a brief hug, startling Jones, then he disappeared. An instant later Shasta grabbed Jones’s hand and pulled him through into the fog of the between places, closing the gate behind them. Jones kept hold of him as they stood and waited, looking around cautiously for any sign of the Kingsblack or Aloria.
They arrived almost together, Aloria from one direction—alone—and the Kingsblack from the other. Jones shoved Shasta back behind him, hands itching for his guns, and faced Aloria, hoping she hadn’t yet noticed the Kingsblack slinking through the thick fog. He saw Aloria smile, just slightly, then something invisible wrapped around his throat and squeezed, neatly cutting off his air. He dug at it with his nails but only scratched his own throat, fighting to draw in even a single breath.
Behind him Shasta was yelling something, his voice high and breathless, but all Jones could think about was the pressure around his neck and the burning sensation building in his lungs.
He looked away from Aloria’s smile to search for the Kingsblack but the creature seemed to have disappeared. Dark spots floated across his vision and he sensed more than saw Aloria walk through the fog towards him. She tangled her fingers in his hair and yanked his head back, exposing the long line of his throat. Briefly he wondered where Shasta was, then he threw a hand up and caught Aloria’s wrist as she brought a slim knife flashing down towards his exposed throat. Weakened by the lack of air he had to struggle against her strength and felt the cold edge of the blade for an instant before he managed to shove her away.
“You just won’t die, will you, Jones?” Aloria said, admiration colouring her voice.
He flipped her the finger, aware that it was a very Shasta thing to do. As if the thought had summoned him, Shasta appeared suddenly in Jones’ rapidly narrowing field of vision, swinging his clasped fists at the back of his aunt’s head with all his strength. Aloria stumbled and went to one knee, and the band around Jones’s throat loosened just enough for him to grab a breath of air. He saw Aloria get up and felt her lash out at Shasta, hitting him so hard he collapsed like a rag doll.
Acting entirely on instinct Jones choked out the word he’d heard Aloria use on Andraeon’s cuffs, hearing it in his mind so clearly it was as though someone were whispering it to him.
A long black tail whipped through the fog and wrapped around Aloria’s calf, yanking her off her feet and dragging her across the flat ground. The Kingsblack’s head reared up into the slate grey sky and it lifted her upside down into the air, turning its head in order to look at her with one starry eye. Jones could hear her panting breaths but she didn’t make any other noise; only hit the creature with a blow that Jones felt deep inside his bones, though it was nothing to what he had felt with Andraeon.
The Kingsblack jerked back a little then its head whipped forward, long teeth bared. Jones squeezed his eyes shut as she started to scream, covering his ears with both hands to try and drown out the sound of crunching bones. He stumbled towards Shasta, opening his eyes just enough to see his way and looking fixedly at the ground, and went down on his knees beside him. Shasta’s eyes were closed and blood ran in twin streams from his nose, but he was still breathing and the pulse under Jones’s fingers was strong and steady.
A shadow fell across them and Jones looked up slowly, automatically reaching a hand down to his hip for a gun that wasn’t there. The Kingsblack lowered its dripping snout towards him and blew out a hot breath of air, spattering him with still-warm blood. He flinched back, grimacing at the sensation, but didn’t move from his protective crouch over Shasta’s limp form, trying to stare the creature down.
“I don’t know what you are or why you’re here,” he said quietly, “but you’re not having Shasta too. Leave him.”
The Kingsblack continued to study him, its expression—if it could be said to have one—almost curious. Then its tail whipped forward and shoved Jones away from Shasta, leaving Shasta unprotected. Jones tried to get up but the tail smacked him down again as it opened its mouth almost delicately above Shasta’s still body.
Desperately Jones grabbed at his hip again, and then time his hand encountered the hard butt of a gun. He didn’t stop to think about how it was there now when he’d lost both weapons along with Andraeon; he just pulled it free and fired at the Kingsblack’s massive head. The bullets slammed into the soft, scale-less area near the night sky of its eye and dark blood dripped down, flinging out in thick droplets as it jerked its head away. As it turned to flee, Jones pulled the trigger again and again, until the gun only clicked, its chambers empty.
The creature wavered only a few feet more before collapsing, shaking the ground so hard Jones, who was trying to get to his feet, lost his balance and fell again, cracking his elbow hard against the ground. His fingers went numb and he dropped the gun; as it hit the fog it faded away and disappeared. Swearing under his breath, Jones looked quickly at the Kingsblack but it lay where it had fallen, an immense black shape in the drifting fog.
Steeling himself, Jones got up again and cautiously approached it, glancing back over his shoulder every few seconds to try and keep Shasta in sight. His footsteps slowed as he approached the Kingsblack’s enormous head but it didn’t move even when he carefully walked right up to its half-open mouth. His heart beating so hard he could hear his own pulse inside his ears, he reached out to cautiously press his fingertips against the bloody scales on its snout.
“Hey Jonesy.” For a moment he thought the Kingsblack had spoke to him, and his heart stuttered in its rapid beat. He jerked away and spun when he realized the voice had come from behind him, and wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or not when he saw Elle standing there.
“What do you want?” He stepped away from the Kingsblack’s rapidly cooling head, absently wiping his hand against his jeans. Almost unconsciously he moved so that he was blocking Elle’s view of Shasta.
“I’ve been waiting for you to get rid of this thing for weeks.” Elle stepped up and ran a finger down one of the Kingsblack’s long teeth.
“Why?”
“I need something from it.” She put a foot on a protruding scale and climbed up the Kingsblack’s massive head until she was next to its eye, which was easily twice as big as her head. Taking a long knife from a sheath on her belt, she began to cut around it, causing thick dark blood to shower down into the fog.
Sickened, Jones turned away, trying to block out the gristly sound. He started back towards Shasta then reluctantly turned back when Elle snapped his name, shuddering a little as he reached up to help her bring the eye down. To his surprise it was hard and faceted, like a dark blue diamond filled with stars, and heavy enough that he struggled to hold it up. He gently set it down in the fog, trying not to think about the sticky blood soaking slowly into his shirt.
“Help me with the other one,” Elle ordered, walking around the Kingsblack’s nose to the other side. Reluctantly Jones followed her, not even sure why he didn’t tell her to go to hell. The second one took longer to get out and Elle was red from fingertips to elbows and all over her clothes by the time she handed it down to Jones.
“What the hell are you going to do with these?” Jones asked, carrying the second one around to join the first.
“Don’t let them touch.” Elle waved a hand down herself and the blood disappeared from both her clothes and her skin. “I’m going to keep this one,” she placed a hand on the first, “and I guess you can have the other.”
“I don’t want it,” Jones said, grimacing.
“Sure about that?” Elle went back over to the Kingsblack and leaned into its mouth, making Jones tense painfully as he waited for the teeth to snap shut on her. Nothing happened and after a few minutes Elle straightened up with something in her hand. When she held it out to him, the dog tag slipped through her fingers and dangled on its chain below her hand.
Hesitantly Jones reached out and took it from her, giving it only a cursory glance to see that it was definitely his missing tag. He folded it in his hand and shoved it into his pocket. “Going to bother telling me how this ended up here? Another of your little plants?”
“No, you moron. Humans, honestly.” She picked up one of the starry eyes and tossed it to him as though it weighed nothing.
He reached out to catch it automatically and had a confused moment where it suddenly seemed so much bigger. The weight caught him off-guard and knocked him back, and he tumbled to the ground not with an enormous diamond in his arms but a warm body. For a moment he just sprawled there, feeling solid weight and steady breathing against his chest, then reached with a shaky hand to brush aside thick black hair, gently stroking a line down Andraeon’s cheek. At his touch Andraeon opened his eyes and gave him a sleepy look, one corner of his mouth curving up in a sleepy smile.
Jones caught his face in both hands and kissed him, tasting the slight salty tang of blood on his mouth. Andraeon’s fingers tangled in his hair and he pressed his body up against Jones, only letting him go when they were both out of breath and panting for air. Still cupping his face, Jones studied him intently, trying to see anything different in his features or in his eyes; anything that would prove to him that this was really Andraeon—or wasn’t.
“I’m me, I promise,” Andraeon said, as though he’d read Jones’s mind—and Jones wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t.
“How do I know that?” Jones asked, but he couldn’t stop himself stroking Andraeon’s hair again.
“Trust me?” Andraeon kissed the corner of his mouth. “Take me to Shasta or Shiki, they’d know, right?”
“In a minute.” Jones looked for Elle, meaning to ask her what—or who—was in the other diamond eye, but she had vanished along with it. He hesitated, glancing around, then got to his feet and helped Andraeon up, taking his hand to lead him towards where he’d left Shasta.
Shasta was sitting up when they got there, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand and spitting to clear out his mouth. He glanced up at their approach and his slight smile faded into an expression of astonishment when he saw Andraeon, then became an odd look of wistfulness and something else that Jones couldn’t quite read.
“I’m glad you’re back, Drae,” he said, mustering up another smile.
“Then he’s real?” Jones tightened his grip on Andraeon’s hand. “He’s really Drae?”
“Yeah. Not a copy this time.” Shasta shook his head. “Let’s get the hell out of here and find Shiki.” He opened a gate for them and ducked through after a quick glance at the Kingsblack’s corpse.
Jones followed, tugging Andraeon through with him. They came out in Kaede’s living room, where the children still sat watching TV. Jones glanced out the window and saw it was close to dusk; they’d been gone at least 6 hours. He only let go of Andraeon to kneel down and hug Emily when she came rushing over to him, though she wrinkled her nose at the blood on his clothes and wrinkled it again when she saw Andraeon. He thought for a moment that she might make her displeasure more clearly known, but she looked at his face and just nodded instead, going back to her seat beside Andy.
Shiki appeared suddenly, relief clear on his face when he saw them all; and when he saw Andraeon his face lit up with real pleasure. The whirlwind of swapping stories and all of them trying to talk at once made Jones realize just how tired he was, and he sat down heavily on the couch to let them talk, covering a wide yawn with one hand. He saw Andraeon look over at him, then he excused himself from Shasta and Shiki to come over and take Jones’s hand.
“Want to go to bed?” he asked softly. “We can talk more when you’re rested.”
Jones nodded and got to his feet, lifting his free hand in half a wave to Shasta and Shiki. Shiki nodded back to him but Shasta only looked at him for a long time, his face unreadable, before he smiled slightly and gave him a brief salute. Sliding his hand back into Andraeon’s, Jones headed upstairs to sleep.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
The Man Who Stole The World Part Two - Chapter Twenty Five
“I can explain that,” Shasta said when Jones picked up the dog tag he still wore around his neck. “In a hopefully non-creepy way.”
“So explain,” Jones murmured, rubbing his thumb against the letters stamped into the tag.
“Elle told me to wear it. So I, uh, did.” Shasta considered for a moment. “Okay, that’s probably pretty creepy anyway.”
“Where’s the other one?”
“I don’t know,” Shasta said, deciding to lie on the spur of the moment. “She just gave me this one. Do you want it back?”
Jones looked up at him, obviously struggling to think through the vodka he’d downed. “No,” he said finally, letting the dog tag fall back against Shasta’s chest. “Do whatever you want with it.” He traced a line across to the half-healed bite mark around Shasta’s shoulder, running his fingertips along the raised lines, until Shasta shivered and he stopped. “Sorry. Does it hurt?”
“Not really. Kalani did a good job. Did I ever say thanks by the way? Thanks if I didn’t.”
“You chatter a lot when you’re drunk. Even more than usual.” Jones gave him half a smile that somehow made him look even more tired.
“I’m sure it’s about as useless as my usual chatter, too,” Shasta said, grinning.
“At least you can acknowledge your faults.” Jones glanced in the direction of the vodka bottle but before he could get up, Shasta caught hold of his chin to turn him back and kissed him again.
He had half-expected resistance but instead Jones leaned into him and pushed him down in the grass, hands going to the button on his jeans. Reluctant to break the kiss—and have Jones come back to his senses—Shasta only lifted his hips enough to let Jones slide his jeans down, shivering a bit at the touch of cool night air on his bare skin. Jones pulled away and sat up enough to toss them to the side and take his own shirt off, adding it to the pile.
“Hey, tell me your name,” Shasta said without thinking, looking up at him. The moon was behind him, gilding his bare shoulders with silver but leaving his face in shadow.
“What?”
“Your name, Jonesy. The real one.”
“Now?”
“Is there a better time?” Shasta grinned. “I need to know what to call out. Unless you like the idea of hearing, ‘Oh, Mr. Jones, more’.”
“You’re a pain in the ass, Shasta, you know that?”
“If you tell me I’ll never bug you about it again.”
Jones snorted. “Because you’ll know. I’m not that stupid drunk.”
“Well, I don’t want you stupid drunk. I probably shouldn’t let you drink at all, no matter—”
“It’s Grey.”
“—how nice the results are. Wait, what?”
“My name is Grey.” He glanced out over the grass for a moment, so that the moonlight lit up his profile, then looked back. “Grey Jones.”
“Grey, huh. I like it.”
“Now my life is complete,” Jones said dryly.
“Sarcasm is my job,” Shasta tried to say, but it only got swallowed up in Jones’s mouth on his and Jones’s hands sliding down his belly; and when it came right down to it, ‘Jones’ was the name that escaped him anyway.
He fell asleep in the grass with Jones pressed up against his back and woke alone in the fog of the between places. His heart seemed to skip a beat and he hurriedly sat up, wrapping his arms around himself in a small attempt to warm his bare skin and protect himself. He saw Jones a few feet away, still curled up asleep, and got up to make his way over, watching the fog warily as he crouched down to shake Jones awake.
“What the hell,” Jones muttered, squinting into the fog then rubbing at his eyes as he sat up.
“I’ve had some weird sex, Jonesy, but this is the first time I’ve woken up in the between places. On someone’s floor, sure. Upside down across the sofa, a little odd, but it’s happened. Never here, and I gotta say, not somewhere I want to wake up from groggy post-sex sleep. In fact—”
Jones clapped a hand over his mouth, cutting him off, and leaned in until his mouth was close to Shasta’s ear. “Shut up. There’s something out there.”
Shasta froze, automatically clutching at Jones’s arm, and studied the fog carefully. He almost didn’t see it then caught the flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye; something slim but very long twitching through the fog. Reaching out a careful hand, he tried to open a gate back to the field of grass.
The slim line in the fog came up so fast he barely saw it move, revealing itself as the Kingsblack’s long, supple tail. It flickered towards them and caught Shasta neatly in the chest, flinging him backwards with the air knocked out of his lungs. He landed hard and bit back a whimper as the bite mark on his shoulder flared into life again, glowing red. It felt as though his entire arm and chest were on fire from the inside out, gnawing away at him.
He saw Jones turn towards him but the Kingsblack’s tail curled gently around Jones’s waist and tugged him back. It held him in place as the creature’s massive head rose out of the fog a few feet away and swung towards him. It bared its teeth and Shasta saw something silver glittering around one long tooth, ending in a dangling rectangular object he couldn’t quite make out. For a moment the Kingsblack and Jones just faced each other, completely still except for the slight movement of Jones’s hair in the Kingsblack’s hot breath, then Jones socked it in the nose.
It was such a puny blow against the Kingsblack’s size, pathetically defiant, but the Kingsblack reared back as though it had been much more powerful, shaking its head like a dog with a bee sting. Its tail tightened around Jones’s torso, hard enough to send him to his knees gasping for air, then it released him and ducked back down into the fog. Silence settled over them, broken only by their matched harsh breathing, then Shasta pushed himself painfully to his feet and went to see if Jones was all right.
“I’m okay,” Jones said when Shasta gingerly knelt down beside him. “You?”
“There’s no bleeding, I’m practically batting a hundred.” Shasta touched the lines of bruising already forming around Jones’s waist. “That was kind of awesome, you punching it like that.”
“Fucking killed my hand,” Jones said, flexing his fingers. “Like punching a rock.”
Shasta snorted a helpless laugh through his nose, trying not to break into outright laughter. He had to take a few deep breaths until the urge had passed, while Jones watched him with one eyebrow raised. “You’re one of a kind, Jonesy. Let’s get the hell out of here.” He took Jones’s hand and opened a gate with the other, not allowing himself even a sigh of relief until they’d gone through it and were back in the long grass.
His clothes were damp but he pulled them on anyway, grimacing at the feel of them against his skin. He waited for Jones to do the same—swallowing another urge to start giggling helplessly when Jones had to hunt for his pants—and led the way back towards the house. They let themselves in quietly; the house was silent and still enough that it was obvious everyone else had gone to bed. Shasta headed automatically for the stairs, already looking forward to climbing into bed, then stopped and looked at Jones.
“So are we sharing? Is this going to be weird?”
“Upside down sex on the sofa weird?”
“I just woke up there.” Shasta offered a hand. “Hopefully it won’t be that weird.”
Jones looked at his hand for such a long moment that Shasta almost told him to forget it, then Jones’s fingers laced with his own. Smiling a bit, Shasta led him upstairs and shut the bedroom door behind them, glad to strip out of his damp clothes and crawl under the blankets. He shifted over to let Jones in, laughing a bit as they both awkwardly tried to arrange themselves. Eventually he ended up facing Jones with his head tucked under Jones’s chin, finally warm and comfortable, with the feeling of Jones’s steady breathing to help lull him to sleep.
He was just on the edge when Jones said his name, keeping him from falling right into sleep. “Mmm?” he managed.
“What if we took Aloria there?”
“Where?”
“The between places. Took her there and let the Kingsblack have her.”
“I’m not sleeping with my aunt.”
“I’m serious, Shasta. If we could lure her there somehow.”
“Talk to me in the morning. It’s too late for this. I’m too tired and I’ll probably have a hangover in the morning.” Shasta nuzzled at his neck, inhaling his unique scent. “If you’re real lucky I’ll even cook you breakfast. You can have a choice of scrambled eggs and bacon, bacon and scrambled eggs, scrambled eggs, or bacon.”
“Shut up and go to sleep,” Jones said, his voice an odd mix of tired and amused.
“Yessir,” Shasta muttered against his throat, and quickly fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
“So explain,” Jones murmured, rubbing his thumb against the letters stamped into the tag.
“Elle told me to wear it. So I, uh, did.” Shasta considered for a moment. “Okay, that’s probably pretty creepy anyway.”
“Where’s the other one?”
“I don’t know,” Shasta said, deciding to lie on the spur of the moment. “She just gave me this one. Do you want it back?”
Jones looked up at him, obviously struggling to think through the vodka he’d downed. “No,” he said finally, letting the dog tag fall back against Shasta’s chest. “Do whatever you want with it.” He traced a line across to the half-healed bite mark around Shasta’s shoulder, running his fingertips along the raised lines, until Shasta shivered and he stopped. “Sorry. Does it hurt?”
“Not really. Kalani did a good job. Did I ever say thanks by the way? Thanks if I didn’t.”
“You chatter a lot when you’re drunk. Even more than usual.” Jones gave him half a smile that somehow made him look even more tired.
“I’m sure it’s about as useless as my usual chatter, too,” Shasta said, grinning.
“At least you can acknowledge your faults.” Jones glanced in the direction of the vodka bottle but before he could get up, Shasta caught hold of his chin to turn him back and kissed him again.
He had half-expected resistance but instead Jones leaned into him and pushed him down in the grass, hands going to the button on his jeans. Reluctant to break the kiss—and have Jones come back to his senses—Shasta only lifted his hips enough to let Jones slide his jeans down, shivering a bit at the touch of cool night air on his bare skin. Jones pulled away and sat up enough to toss them to the side and take his own shirt off, adding it to the pile.
“Hey, tell me your name,” Shasta said without thinking, looking up at him. The moon was behind him, gilding his bare shoulders with silver but leaving his face in shadow.
“What?”
“Your name, Jonesy. The real one.”
“Now?”
“Is there a better time?” Shasta grinned. “I need to know what to call out. Unless you like the idea of hearing, ‘Oh, Mr. Jones, more’.”
“You’re a pain in the ass, Shasta, you know that?”
“If you tell me I’ll never bug you about it again.”
Jones snorted. “Because you’ll know. I’m not that stupid drunk.”
“Well, I don’t want you stupid drunk. I probably shouldn’t let you drink at all, no matter—”
“It’s Grey.”
“—how nice the results are. Wait, what?”
“My name is Grey.” He glanced out over the grass for a moment, so that the moonlight lit up his profile, then looked back. “Grey Jones.”
“Grey, huh. I like it.”
“Now my life is complete,” Jones said dryly.
“Sarcasm is my job,” Shasta tried to say, but it only got swallowed up in Jones’s mouth on his and Jones’s hands sliding down his belly; and when it came right down to it, ‘Jones’ was the name that escaped him anyway.
He fell asleep in the grass with Jones pressed up against his back and woke alone in the fog of the between places. His heart seemed to skip a beat and he hurriedly sat up, wrapping his arms around himself in a small attempt to warm his bare skin and protect himself. He saw Jones a few feet away, still curled up asleep, and got up to make his way over, watching the fog warily as he crouched down to shake Jones awake.
“What the hell,” Jones muttered, squinting into the fog then rubbing at his eyes as he sat up.
“I’ve had some weird sex, Jonesy, but this is the first time I’ve woken up in the between places. On someone’s floor, sure. Upside down across the sofa, a little odd, but it’s happened. Never here, and I gotta say, not somewhere I want to wake up from groggy post-sex sleep. In fact—”
Jones clapped a hand over his mouth, cutting him off, and leaned in until his mouth was close to Shasta’s ear. “Shut up. There’s something out there.”
Shasta froze, automatically clutching at Jones’s arm, and studied the fog carefully. He almost didn’t see it then caught the flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye; something slim but very long twitching through the fog. Reaching out a careful hand, he tried to open a gate back to the field of grass.
The slim line in the fog came up so fast he barely saw it move, revealing itself as the Kingsblack’s long, supple tail. It flickered towards them and caught Shasta neatly in the chest, flinging him backwards with the air knocked out of his lungs. He landed hard and bit back a whimper as the bite mark on his shoulder flared into life again, glowing red. It felt as though his entire arm and chest were on fire from the inside out, gnawing away at him.
He saw Jones turn towards him but the Kingsblack’s tail curled gently around Jones’s waist and tugged him back. It held him in place as the creature’s massive head rose out of the fog a few feet away and swung towards him. It bared its teeth and Shasta saw something silver glittering around one long tooth, ending in a dangling rectangular object he couldn’t quite make out. For a moment the Kingsblack and Jones just faced each other, completely still except for the slight movement of Jones’s hair in the Kingsblack’s hot breath, then Jones socked it in the nose.
It was such a puny blow against the Kingsblack’s size, pathetically defiant, but the Kingsblack reared back as though it had been much more powerful, shaking its head like a dog with a bee sting. Its tail tightened around Jones’s torso, hard enough to send him to his knees gasping for air, then it released him and ducked back down into the fog. Silence settled over them, broken only by their matched harsh breathing, then Shasta pushed himself painfully to his feet and went to see if Jones was all right.
“I’m okay,” Jones said when Shasta gingerly knelt down beside him. “You?”
“There’s no bleeding, I’m practically batting a hundred.” Shasta touched the lines of bruising already forming around Jones’s waist. “That was kind of awesome, you punching it like that.”
“Fucking killed my hand,” Jones said, flexing his fingers. “Like punching a rock.”
Shasta snorted a helpless laugh through his nose, trying not to break into outright laughter. He had to take a few deep breaths until the urge had passed, while Jones watched him with one eyebrow raised. “You’re one of a kind, Jonesy. Let’s get the hell out of here.” He took Jones’s hand and opened a gate with the other, not allowing himself even a sigh of relief until they’d gone through it and were back in the long grass.
His clothes were damp but he pulled them on anyway, grimacing at the feel of them against his skin. He waited for Jones to do the same—swallowing another urge to start giggling helplessly when Jones had to hunt for his pants—and led the way back towards the house. They let themselves in quietly; the house was silent and still enough that it was obvious everyone else had gone to bed. Shasta headed automatically for the stairs, already looking forward to climbing into bed, then stopped and looked at Jones.
“So are we sharing? Is this going to be weird?”
“Upside down sex on the sofa weird?”
“I just woke up there.” Shasta offered a hand. “Hopefully it won’t be that weird.”
Jones looked at his hand for such a long moment that Shasta almost told him to forget it, then Jones’s fingers laced with his own. Smiling a bit, Shasta led him upstairs and shut the bedroom door behind them, glad to strip out of his damp clothes and crawl under the blankets. He shifted over to let Jones in, laughing a bit as they both awkwardly tried to arrange themselves. Eventually he ended up facing Jones with his head tucked under Jones’s chin, finally warm and comfortable, with the feeling of Jones’s steady breathing to help lull him to sleep.
He was just on the edge when Jones said his name, keeping him from falling right into sleep. “Mmm?” he managed.
“What if we took Aloria there?”
“Where?”
“The between places. Took her there and let the Kingsblack have her.”
“I’m not sleeping with my aunt.”
“I’m serious, Shasta. If we could lure her there somehow.”
“Talk to me in the morning. It’s too late for this. I’m too tired and I’ll probably have a hangover in the morning.” Shasta nuzzled at his neck, inhaling his unique scent. “If you’re real lucky I’ll even cook you breakfast. You can have a choice of scrambled eggs and bacon, bacon and scrambled eggs, scrambled eggs, or bacon.”
“Shut up and go to sleep,” Jones said, his voice an odd mix of tired and amused.
“Yessir,” Shasta muttered against his throat, and quickly fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
The Man Who Stole The World Part Two - Chapter Twenty Four
Jones woke from dark confused dreams and spent a moment just lying in bed, wondering why there were ducks wearing rubber boots in the border on the wallpaper. He turned his head to look around the room, gradually coming to the realization that he wasn’t in any room he could consider his own. His head was pounding and his last clear memory was of trying to stare down the Kingsblack, though he wasn’t sure if that had actually happened or if he had just dreamed it.
He swung his feet out of bed and sat up, and memory hit him like a sledgehammer. He doubled over as though it had been a physical blow that knocked all the breath out of his lungs, clutching at his head with both hands. It was a struggle to get his breath back and he could only manage it in uneven sobs, though there were no tears. He stayed that way for nearly a full five minutes before he regained enough control of himself to sit up straight again.
The house was quiet as he pushed himself out of bed and went to have a shower, standing with his face turned into the hot needle spray for a long time. He felt no more refreshed when he got out of the shower again and after pulling on some clean clothes, he just sat on the bed, feeling listless and numb. The house started to wake up around him and he heard someone go downstairs, yawning loudly. It was such a normal sound that for a moment he almost thought he was still asleep and dreaming.
“Daddy?” Emily peeked around his bedroom door.
He roused himself enough to muster something of a smile for her, though it felt stiff on his face. She came into the room and climbed up onto the bed beside him, snuggling in against his side. He stroked her soft hair, absently thinking that she needed a haircut and some new clothes.
“Andy’s sad too,” Emily said after a few moments of silence, looking up at him. “His mommy’s with my mommy, right?”
“Right,” he said absently.
“I told him he can come live with us. When can we go home?”
“I don’t know, Em. Soon.”
“How soon?”
“Soon,” he said, sharper than he’d intended. He saw her eyes narrow and she sat up straighter, no longer leaning against his side. He braced himself for another—and probably deserved—temper tantrum but she only sat quietly for a few minutes then pushed herself off the bed.
“I’m going to colour,” she said haughtily, mimicking him clearly enough that even he could see it. “You can come when you’re done sulking.” She swept out of the room with all the grace a six-year-old could muster, leaving him unsure if he wanted to laugh or cry. He scrubbed both hands back through his damp hair then got up and followed her into the bedroom she shared with Andy.
He spent most of the morning colouring with Emily and Andy, or at least occasionally scribbling on the paper with a crayon when Emily demanded that he do so. Andy didn’t even try; he just curled up against Jones’s leg, twisting his fingers in Jones’s sweatpants, and listlessly watched Emily motor through a colouring book.
Kaede, Shiki, and Shasta all took their turns checking on them, but it was Shasta who finally brought them lunch and refused to leave until Jones ate his sandwich. Too tired to argue, Jones ate it without tasting it, trying to encourage Andy to follow his lead. Andy just looked at him, then pushed the plate away and buried his face against Jones’s thigh.
“Poor kid,” Shasta said, reaching across Jones to stroke Andy’s hair. “Jones, what are you planning?”
“Who the fuck says I’m planning anything?”
“Hey, watch your language, there’s kids in the room.” Shasta glanced at Emily, who was ignoring them completely. “Shiki thinks you’re going to go do something stupid.”
“All I want to do is go home. Try to put my life back together and give these kids a life.”
“Aloria’s still out there. I know my aunt; she doesn’t stop until the job is done. So you have to stay here.”
“I don’t have to do anything, Shasta. You haven’t exactly got a great track record in taking on your aunt either. I’d rather take my chances.”
“That’s stupid and you know it. You against Aloria, alone, with two little kids to protect? I promise your balls won’t shrink and fall off if you ask for help.”
“What was that about language?” Jones asked, fighting off an urge to hit him. After a moment the anger faded away again.
“My point still stands. Let us help you, Jonesy.” Shasta gave his shoulder a squeeze, but dropped his hand with a sigh when Jones shrugged him off. “Well, think about it anyway. I really don’t want Aloria taking your pretty little head off.”
He got to his feet and headed out of the room, leaving Jones looking after him with a bemused expression. After a moment Jones shook his head and turned his scattered attention back to Emily and Andy, absently settling his hand gently on Andy’s head. The rest of the day ticked by slowly, until Kaede ordered them to come down for dinner.
They ate in an uncomfortable silence that even Shasta couldn’t break, and Jones got up as soon as he’d finished a few mouthfuls. He ignored Shasta’s protests that he’d barely eaten anything and swung Andy up into one arm, taking Emily’s hand with his other. He took them upstairs to get ready for bed, patiently herding Emily through her bath, doing her teeth, getting changed into her PJs, and getting into bed. Andy trailed them through it all like a lost puppy, holding onto the hem of Jones’s shirt every chance he got. It was dark by the time they were both settled in bed, curled up in each other’s arms; Andy closed his eyes immediately but Emily studied Jones intently, her dark eyebrows drawn down in a flat V over blue-grey eyes just like his own.
“What is it, Em?” he asked.
“Can you stay for a bit, Daddy? Please?”
“Sure,” he said, biting back a sigh. “I’ll stay right here.” He settled down on the floor with his back against the bed. “Night. Sleep well.”
He listened as her breathing gradually deepened, and slid down until he could lean his head back against the bed behind him. Closing his eyes, he let himself drift, just meaning to rest for a few minutes before he got up and went to his own bedroom. When he opened his eyes again, the moon was up, laying a band of silver across the thick blue carpet, and Elle was sitting on the beanbag chair across from him, watching him with a small, amused smile on her face.
He was on his feet and lunging at her before he even fully came awake and definitely before he thought about what he was doing. His fingertips brushed the pale skin of her throat, then she hit him so hard in the stomach that he fell to his knees and had to fight not to throw up or pass out.
“Don’t do that again,” she said mildly. “I don’t take well to being attacked.”
“You gave Drae my guns,” he said when he could speak again.
“Good job, Jonesy, you can add two and two together.”
“You bitch. You set him up to be killed.” Jones swallowed hard. “Why? What was the point? Just to get him out of your way?”
“Please, that’s an amateur reason. Besides, I could’ve killed him myself if I just wanted to get rid of him.”
“Then why?”
“Because some things need to be done, Jonesy.” She patted his head. “You’ll see.”
“Go fuck yourself.” He smacked her hand away and got to his feet with an effort, putting some distance between them by stepping back. “Get out. Whatever you wanted, it’s done. You won. Leave me alone.”
“Nobody’s won. Or lost.” She heaved a sigh. “Well, I can see there’s no talking to you right now. Give Shasta my love.” She blew him a kiss and disappeared, leaving behind only a slight indent in the beanbag chair where she’d been sitting.
He swore again, managing to keep it quiet to avoid waking up Emily and Andy, but it wasn’t nearly enough to help ease the rage and pain tightening his chest and throat. He left the bedroom as quietly as he could and went straight downstairs, glad to see that Kaede and Shiki were watching TV in the living room and Shasta was nowhere in sight. He walked quietly into the kitchen and took out the bottle of vodka he’d seen in the freezer, half-hidden under a pile of freezer-burnt steaks. Tucking it under his arm, he left by the back door and headed for the back gate so he could drink in the peace of the big grass field that bordered Kaede’s backyard.
He’d just found a spot to settle down, hidden from view by a slight rise in the ground, when Shasta said, “Really think that’s a good idea?”
Jones tensed but just glanced over his shoulder, studying Shasta in the moonlight. “I’m a big boy.”
“You’re an idiot,” Shasta snorted. “An idiot and a drunk.”
“Go away, Shasta.” Jones sat down in the grass and made himself comfortable, twisting off the cap on the bottle of vodka and taking a swig of the cold liquid. He could see Shasta visibly trying to decide what to do, then he sat down opposite Jones and held out a hand.
“Share then. We can get drunk together.” He caught Jones’s gaze and held it, mismatched eyes calm and steady.
Silently Jones poured some into the bottle’s cap and handed that over, surprising himself by almost laughing at the look on Shasta’s face. After a moment Shasta took the cap, saluted him with it, and swallowed the mouthful of vodka, offering the cap back for a refill. Jones took a large swallow straight from the bottle before slopping more into the cap, feeling the alcohol burn down into his belly. They continued like that until the bottle was half-empty and Jones was feeling relaxed enough to just pass the whole thing over for Shasta to drink.
Shasta took it and hesitated a moment, then just drank and passed the bottle back. Jones saluted him with it and drank again, gradually sinking back in the grass as the vodka took effect and began to drown out everything but itself. This time when he passed the bottle to Shasta, Shasta didn’t hand it back after drinking, instead setting it carefully down in the grass beside him.
“Fuck off,” Jones told him.
“Maybe later. You’ve probably had enough. I’ve probably had enough. I don’t even really like drinking. Total lightweight.” Shasta pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead. “See what I mean?”
“That’s kind of pathetic but I don’t really care. Give the bottle back and go away.”
“Man, you’re a pissy drunk. You want it, come and fucking get it. It’s going back in with me.” Shasta snagged the neck of the bottle and got to his feet, heading for the gate into the backyard with it swinging below his fist.
Jones scrambled to his feet and lunged after him, grabbing the back of his shirt and yanking him backwards. He tried to grab the bottle with his other hand but Shasta tripped him up and they both went down. Shasta lost his grip on the bottle as they fell and it flew out of his hand, landing on its side in the grass and spilling vodka. Pissed off now, Jones tried to shove himself away from Shasta to go rescue it, but Shasta wrapped both arms around his waist and dragged him down again. They wrestled in the grass, both struggling to gain the upper hand, until Jones managed to pin Shasta under him and found to his surprise that Shasta was laughing. Confused and having trouble thinking through the vodka haze inside his head, Jones only stared at him, frowning a little.
Before Jones could arrange his scattered thoughts, Shasta pushed himself up, slid a hand across the back of Jones’s neck, and kissed him, lightly at first and then more firmly when Jones didn’t resist. Jones found his mouth opening under Shasta’s tongue and moving almost on autopilot, he slid his hands under Shasta’s shirt, pushing it up. Shasta leaned back enough to pull his shirt over his head and Jones glanced down at something that fell back against Shasta’s bare chest. Reaching out, Jones gently slid his fingers under the dog tag and raised it enough to read his own name stamped on the thin metal.
He swung his feet out of bed and sat up, and memory hit him like a sledgehammer. He doubled over as though it had been a physical blow that knocked all the breath out of his lungs, clutching at his head with both hands. It was a struggle to get his breath back and he could only manage it in uneven sobs, though there were no tears. He stayed that way for nearly a full five minutes before he regained enough control of himself to sit up straight again.
The house was quiet as he pushed himself out of bed and went to have a shower, standing with his face turned into the hot needle spray for a long time. He felt no more refreshed when he got out of the shower again and after pulling on some clean clothes, he just sat on the bed, feeling listless and numb. The house started to wake up around him and he heard someone go downstairs, yawning loudly. It was such a normal sound that for a moment he almost thought he was still asleep and dreaming.
“Daddy?” Emily peeked around his bedroom door.
He roused himself enough to muster something of a smile for her, though it felt stiff on his face. She came into the room and climbed up onto the bed beside him, snuggling in against his side. He stroked her soft hair, absently thinking that she needed a haircut and some new clothes.
“Andy’s sad too,” Emily said after a few moments of silence, looking up at him. “His mommy’s with my mommy, right?”
“Right,” he said absently.
“I told him he can come live with us. When can we go home?”
“I don’t know, Em. Soon.”
“How soon?”
“Soon,” he said, sharper than he’d intended. He saw her eyes narrow and she sat up straighter, no longer leaning against his side. He braced himself for another—and probably deserved—temper tantrum but she only sat quietly for a few minutes then pushed herself off the bed.
“I’m going to colour,” she said haughtily, mimicking him clearly enough that even he could see it. “You can come when you’re done sulking.” She swept out of the room with all the grace a six-year-old could muster, leaving him unsure if he wanted to laugh or cry. He scrubbed both hands back through his damp hair then got up and followed her into the bedroom she shared with Andy.
He spent most of the morning colouring with Emily and Andy, or at least occasionally scribbling on the paper with a crayon when Emily demanded that he do so. Andy didn’t even try; he just curled up against Jones’s leg, twisting his fingers in Jones’s sweatpants, and listlessly watched Emily motor through a colouring book.
Kaede, Shiki, and Shasta all took their turns checking on them, but it was Shasta who finally brought them lunch and refused to leave until Jones ate his sandwich. Too tired to argue, Jones ate it without tasting it, trying to encourage Andy to follow his lead. Andy just looked at him, then pushed the plate away and buried his face against Jones’s thigh.
“Poor kid,” Shasta said, reaching across Jones to stroke Andy’s hair. “Jones, what are you planning?”
“Who the fuck says I’m planning anything?”
“Hey, watch your language, there’s kids in the room.” Shasta glanced at Emily, who was ignoring them completely. “Shiki thinks you’re going to go do something stupid.”
“All I want to do is go home. Try to put my life back together and give these kids a life.”
“Aloria’s still out there. I know my aunt; she doesn’t stop until the job is done. So you have to stay here.”
“I don’t have to do anything, Shasta. You haven’t exactly got a great track record in taking on your aunt either. I’d rather take my chances.”
“That’s stupid and you know it. You against Aloria, alone, with two little kids to protect? I promise your balls won’t shrink and fall off if you ask for help.”
“What was that about language?” Jones asked, fighting off an urge to hit him. After a moment the anger faded away again.
“My point still stands. Let us help you, Jonesy.” Shasta gave his shoulder a squeeze, but dropped his hand with a sigh when Jones shrugged him off. “Well, think about it anyway. I really don’t want Aloria taking your pretty little head off.”
He got to his feet and headed out of the room, leaving Jones looking after him with a bemused expression. After a moment Jones shook his head and turned his scattered attention back to Emily and Andy, absently settling his hand gently on Andy’s head. The rest of the day ticked by slowly, until Kaede ordered them to come down for dinner.
They ate in an uncomfortable silence that even Shasta couldn’t break, and Jones got up as soon as he’d finished a few mouthfuls. He ignored Shasta’s protests that he’d barely eaten anything and swung Andy up into one arm, taking Emily’s hand with his other. He took them upstairs to get ready for bed, patiently herding Emily through her bath, doing her teeth, getting changed into her PJs, and getting into bed. Andy trailed them through it all like a lost puppy, holding onto the hem of Jones’s shirt every chance he got. It was dark by the time they were both settled in bed, curled up in each other’s arms; Andy closed his eyes immediately but Emily studied Jones intently, her dark eyebrows drawn down in a flat V over blue-grey eyes just like his own.
“What is it, Em?” he asked.
“Can you stay for a bit, Daddy? Please?”
“Sure,” he said, biting back a sigh. “I’ll stay right here.” He settled down on the floor with his back against the bed. “Night. Sleep well.”
He listened as her breathing gradually deepened, and slid down until he could lean his head back against the bed behind him. Closing his eyes, he let himself drift, just meaning to rest for a few minutes before he got up and went to his own bedroom. When he opened his eyes again, the moon was up, laying a band of silver across the thick blue carpet, and Elle was sitting on the beanbag chair across from him, watching him with a small, amused smile on her face.
He was on his feet and lunging at her before he even fully came awake and definitely before he thought about what he was doing. His fingertips brushed the pale skin of her throat, then she hit him so hard in the stomach that he fell to his knees and had to fight not to throw up or pass out.
“Don’t do that again,” she said mildly. “I don’t take well to being attacked.”
“You gave Drae my guns,” he said when he could speak again.
“Good job, Jonesy, you can add two and two together.”
“You bitch. You set him up to be killed.” Jones swallowed hard. “Why? What was the point? Just to get him out of your way?”
“Please, that’s an amateur reason. Besides, I could’ve killed him myself if I just wanted to get rid of him.”
“Then why?”
“Because some things need to be done, Jonesy.” She patted his head. “You’ll see.”
“Go fuck yourself.” He smacked her hand away and got to his feet with an effort, putting some distance between them by stepping back. “Get out. Whatever you wanted, it’s done. You won. Leave me alone.”
“Nobody’s won. Or lost.” She heaved a sigh. “Well, I can see there’s no talking to you right now. Give Shasta my love.” She blew him a kiss and disappeared, leaving behind only a slight indent in the beanbag chair where she’d been sitting.
He swore again, managing to keep it quiet to avoid waking up Emily and Andy, but it wasn’t nearly enough to help ease the rage and pain tightening his chest and throat. He left the bedroom as quietly as he could and went straight downstairs, glad to see that Kaede and Shiki were watching TV in the living room and Shasta was nowhere in sight. He walked quietly into the kitchen and took out the bottle of vodka he’d seen in the freezer, half-hidden under a pile of freezer-burnt steaks. Tucking it under his arm, he left by the back door and headed for the back gate so he could drink in the peace of the big grass field that bordered Kaede’s backyard.
He’d just found a spot to settle down, hidden from view by a slight rise in the ground, when Shasta said, “Really think that’s a good idea?”
Jones tensed but just glanced over his shoulder, studying Shasta in the moonlight. “I’m a big boy.”
“You’re an idiot,” Shasta snorted. “An idiot and a drunk.”
“Go away, Shasta.” Jones sat down in the grass and made himself comfortable, twisting off the cap on the bottle of vodka and taking a swig of the cold liquid. He could see Shasta visibly trying to decide what to do, then he sat down opposite Jones and held out a hand.
“Share then. We can get drunk together.” He caught Jones’s gaze and held it, mismatched eyes calm and steady.
Silently Jones poured some into the bottle’s cap and handed that over, surprising himself by almost laughing at the look on Shasta’s face. After a moment Shasta took the cap, saluted him with it, and swallowed the mouthful of vodka, offering the cap back for a refill. Jones took a large swallow straight from the bottle before slopping more into the cap, feeling the alcohol burn down into his belly. They continued like that until the bottle was half-empty and Jones was feeling relaxed enough to just pass the whole thing over for Shasta to drink.
Shasta took it and hesitated a moment, then just drank and passed the bottle back. Jones saluted him with it and drank again, gradually sinking back in the grass as the vodka took effect and began to drown out everything but itself. This time when he passed the bottle to Shasta, Shasta didn’t hand it back after drinking, instead setting it carefully down in the grass beside him.
“Fuck off,” Jones told him.
“Maybe later. You’ve probably had enough. I’ve probably had enough. I don’t even really like drinking. Total lightweight.” Shasta pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead. “See what I mean?”
“That’s kind of pathetic but I don’t really care. Give the bottle back and go away.”
“Man, you’re a pissy drunk. You want it, come and fucking get it. It’s going back in with me.” Shasta snagged the neck of the bottle and got to his feet, heading for the gate into the backyard with it swinging below his fist.
Jones scrambled to his feet and lunged after him, grabbing the back of his shirt and yanking him backwards. He tried to grab the bottle with his other hand but Shasta tripped him up and they both went down. Shasta lost his grip on the bottle as they fell and it flew out of his hand, landing on its side in the grass and spilling vodka. Pissed off now, Jones tried to shove himself away from Shasta to go rescue it, but Shasta wrapped both arms around his waist and dragged him down again. They wrestled in the grass, both struggling to gain the upper hand, until Jones managed to pin Shasta under him and found to his surprise that Shasta was laughing. Confused and having trouble thinking through the vodka haze inside his head, Jones only stared at him, frowning a little.
Before Jones could arrange his scattered thoughts, Shasta pushed himself up, slid a hand across the back of Jones’s neck, and kissed him, lightly at first and then more firmly when Jones didn’t resist. Jones found his mouth opening under Shasta’s tongue and moving almost on autopilot, he slid his hands under Shasta’s shirt, pushing it up. Shasta leaned back enough to pull his shirt over his head and Jones glanced down at something that fell back against Shasta’s bare chest. Reaching out, Jones gently slid his fingers under the dog tag and raised it enough to read his own name stamped on the thin metal.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
The Man Who Stole The World Part Two - Chapter Twenty Three
Shasta hit the ground hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs, and immediately struggled free and got to his feet, spinning to face Aloria. She was already up, her eyes narrowed, but even as he braced himself for an attack, she disappeared. Thinking she had gone back, Shasta hurriedly opened a gate to the living room of the old farmhouse and went through. He found only Jones, sitting on the floor soaked in blood, with Andraeon cradled in his arms.
Shasta went to him, going down on his knees at Jones’s side. He could see at a glance that Andraeon was gone and a sort of numbness settled over him, disbelief that they’d really lost him. He reached out without thinking and brushed a lock of thick hair away from Andraeon’s pale face, gently touching his bloody cheek. His skin was still warm under Shasta’s fingertips but a coolness was creeping in and he was so limp in Jones’s arms. Shasta took his hand away and put an arm around Jones’s shoulders, trying to offer what comfort he could.
Jones said nothing but turned his face in against Shasta’s shoulder; hot tears quickly dampened Shasta’s shirt. Shasta kissed the top of his head and just held him, only looking up when he heard hesitant footsteps approaching them. The expression on Shiki’s blood-streaked face hurt almost as much as Jones’s tears. Without saying a word, Shiki just sat down on Jones’s other side and slid an arm around him as well, resting his other hand lightly on Andraeon’s hair.
Shasta noticed it first: the faint touch of blue that had started at the tips of Andraeon’s limp fingers and begun creeping up his arm. Even as Shasta watched the blue crept higher and darkened, and tiny pinpoints of light started to appear in it. Wide-eyed he watched until it had covered both of Andraeon’s arms up to the sleeves of his shirt, then reached across Jones’s back to tug at Shiki’s arm. Shiki glanced at him then looked down at Andraeon, his own eyes widening.
The blue soon covered every inch of Andraeon, hiding the blood staining his skin. Bright light suddenly flared around his body, making Shasta and Shiki both flinch back. Shasta heard Jones catch his breath as the light cleared and when he could look again, he saw Jones was holding little more than a body-shaped latticework of tiny sparkling lights like distant stars. An instant later the outline fell apart and the little stars drifted down, sinking into Jones’s jeans and the tiled floor.
Jones made a choked noise and put both hands over his face, breathing hard. Shasta exchanged a glance with Shiki, silently trying to ask what they should do, but before he could say anything, Jones dropped his hands again, taking a deep breath. His eyes were red and his cheeks still wet, but his expression had gone very calm, if bleak.
“We need to go.” He cleared his throat to get the teary thickness out of it. “I have... things to do.”
“Like what?” Shasta asked, trying to keep hold of him as he started to get up. “Jones, what are you planning?”
Jones just shook his head, pulling free of both Shiki and Shasta, and getting to his feet. “Take me back. I need to look after Emily and Andy.”
“Okay,” Shiki said soothingly. “I’ll take us.”
Jones glanced at him. “Your head.” He indicated on his own temple the spot where Shiki had a still-bloody gash. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Shiki offered a hand, smiling a little when Jones took it. He waited until Shasta had taken Jones’s other hand, and took them all back to Kaede’s house.
Jones pulled away as soon as they appeared in the living room, heading up the stairs towards the bedroom where Emily and Andy had been sleeping. Shasta saw Shiki jerk his chin in the direction of Jones’s back and nodded in return, hurrying to catch up to Jones on the stairs. He trailed him into the kids’ bedroom and watched him carefully as he checked them over; they both still slept, though Emily stirred a little under Jones’s hand when he stroked her hair.
“You should sleep too,” Shasta said after a bit. “Jones?”
“Yeah.” Jones looked at him almost without recognition then left the room again, bumping Shasta with his shoulder as he did. Shasta caught him in the hallway and put an arm around his waist, suddenly afraid that he was going to collapse. Jones ignored it after a brief disinterested glance, allowing Shasta to walk him down the hall towards the bedrooms. At the last instant Shasta took him to his own bedroom instead of the one Jones had been sharing with Andraeon, trying to avoid triggering any damaging memories.
He got Jones into the shower first and threw both of their bloody clothes in the garbage, then fetched some clean clothes from Jones’s room and sat down on the lid of the toilet to wait for Jones to finish washing. Jones got out of the shower after only a few minutes and dried off without expression, changing into shorts and a tank top before he headed into the bedroom with Shasta following behind him.
“This is your bed.” Jones glanced at Shasta, though with nothing more than a mild interest.
“I’m not sharing it with you, don’t worry.” Shasta pushed him down on the bed. “Get some sleep, Jones. Yell if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay.” Jones stretched out and closed his eyes, and within only a few moments he was fast asleep, his breathing deep and even. Shasta sat down on the edge of the bed to watch him for a while, stroking his dark hair, then left him to sleep and went downstairs to find Shiki and Kaede.
Kaede got up to hug him when he came into the kitchen, kissing his cheek before she let him sit down at the table and handed over a mug of coffee. Shasta sipped at it, listening quietly as Shiki finished filling Kaede in on Andraeon’s death and the disappearance of his body. He could feel exhaustion beginning to crash down on him despite the coffee, and from the way Shiki began to stumble over his words and repeat himself, he wasn’t the only one.
“All right, I think that’s enough for tonight.” Kaede reached over to gently touch the butterfly stitches she’d put across the gash on Shiki’s forehead. “Both of you need to go to bed, though I’m afraid I’ll be waking you up to make sure you don’t have a concussion, Shiki.”
“I gave Jones my bed, so I’m going to crash on the couch.” Shasta finished the last of his coffee and got up to give them each a kiss on the cheek before going into the living room and sprawling full-length on the couch. He pulled the blanket down from the back of the couch and rolled himself up in it, and fell asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes.
He woke again to a pitch-black darkness, feeling disoriented and confused. For a long moment he didn’t know where he was, then gradually the familiar furniture of Kaede’s living room came into focus and he remembered he was sleeping on the couch. He started to close his eyes again, then realized that what had woken him was the sound of someone else breathing. Looking around carefully, he pinpointed a shadow that didn’t belong, sitting on the edge of the armchair kitty-corner to the couch he was lying on.
As though she’d realized he was awake, Emily said, “Daddy’s sad, Shasta.”
“Yeah?” He reached up and fumbled on the lamp behind his head, squinting in its sudden glare. “Kiddo, it’s really creepy to sneak up on someone while they’re sleeping and just sit there in the dark watching them.”
“I didn’t want to wake you up but I couldn’t sleep.”
Shasta sighed. “Okay.”
“And Daddy doesn’t want to wake up because he’s sad because Drae went home.”
“Went home? Like your mommy went home?”
“No, stupid. Mommy died and went to the deadlands, you said so.” She rolled her eyes. “Drae wasn’t supposed to be here anyway so he went home.”
“Where’s home, Em?” Shasta asked, feeling wide awake now.
“I dunno.” She picked at a loose thread on the bottom of her pants. “But he died too. He just went home.”
“Oh.” Shasta sank back onto his pillow. “You want a drink or something, Em? Warm milk?”
“Yes,” she said and then after a slight pause, “Please.”
Shasta sighed again and heaved himself to his feet, a little surprised when Emily took his hand for the walk into the kitchen. She climbed into a chair as he quietly poured her a glass of milk and heated it up in the microwave, covering a yawn. Handing it over, he took one of the other chairs and leaned his head in his hands, half-closing his eyes.
“I can go back to bed now,” Emily announced when she’d finished the milk, startling Shasta out of a semi-doze. “Walk me upstairs, Shasta.”
“Your wish is my command,” Shasta muttered, but he got up and let Emily take his hand again, walking her upstairs and back to her bedroom. He helped her climb into bed with Andy, who still slept heavily, and tucked them both in. “No more sneaking downstairs while I’m sleeping, okay?”
“Okay. Good night, Shasta.” Emily snuggled in and closed her eyes.
“Night, kiddo.” Shasta ruffled her hair and left the room, closing the door halfway behind him. He started to go back downstairs, then detoured into his own room to check on Jones.
Jones lay curled up on his side, his face half-buried in the pillow. He’d bunched up the corner of the blanket and was hugging it like a stuffed toy, his fingers tangled in one of its folds so tightly his knuckles were white. Shasta reached out to gently untangle the blanket from his hand and smoothed it out over him, leaning down to kiss his forehead. Jones stirred, frowning, and startled Shasta by muttering his name. Thinking he was awake, Shasta moved back, but Jones only rolled over and hid his face in the pillow again.
“Sleep well,” Shasta said softly. “I hope at least your dreams are sweet.”
He watched Jones for a moment more then left the room and went back downstairs. Settling onto the couch, he pulled the blanket back over his legs and soon fell asleep again. In his dreams he met the Kingsblack and it spoke to him in Andraeon’s voice, warning him to stay away from Jones. When he refused it lunged at him and swallowed him whole, sending him spinning down into a blackness lit by pinpoints of starry light.
He woke with a start, his entire shoulder and side burning with pain. Hissing through his teeth, he gingerly peeled his shirt off and stared at the half-healed bite mark the Kingsblack had left him with. It glowed with a deep red light against his tanned skin, and only slowly faded away in the light of the new day.
Shasta went to him, going down on his knees at Jones’s side. He could see at a glance that Andraeon was gone and a sort of numbness settled over him, disbelief that they’d really lost him. He reached out without thinking and brushed a lock of thick hair away from Andraeon’s pale face, gently touching his bloody cheek. His skin was still warm under Shasta’s fingertips but a coolness was creeping in and he was so limp in Jones’s arms. Shasta took his hand away and put an arm around Jones’s shoulders, trying to offer what comfort he could.
Jones said nothing but turned his face in against Shasta’s shoulder; hot tears quickly dampened Shasta’s shirt. Shasta kissed the top of his head and just held him, only looking up when he heard hesitant footsteps approaching them. The expression on Shiki’s blood-streaked face hurt almost as much as Jones’s tears. Without saying a word, Shiki just sat down on Jones’s other side and slid an arm around him as well, resting his other hand lightly on Andraeon’s hair.
Shasta noticed it first: the faint touch of blue that had started at the tips of Andraeon’s limp fingers and begun creeping up his arm. Even as Shasta watched the blue crept higher and darkened, and tiny pinpoints of light started to appear in it. Wide-eyed he watched until it had covered both of Andraeon’s arms up to the sleeves of his shirt, then reached across Jones’s back to tug at Shiki’s arm. Shiki glanced at him then looked down at Andraeon, his own eyes widening.
The blue soon covered every inch of Andraeon, hiding the blood staining his skin. Bright light suddenly flared around his body, making Shasta and Shiki both flinch back. Shasta heard Jones catch his breath as the light cleared and when he could look again, he saw Jones was holding little more than a body-shaped latticework of tiny sparkling lights like distant stars. An instant later the outline fell apart and the little stars drifted down, sinking into Jones’s jeans and the tiled floor.
Jones made a choked noise and put both hands over his face, breathing hard. Shasta exchanged a glance with Shiki, silently trying to ask what they should do, but before he could say anything, Jones dropped his hands again, taking a deep breath. His eyes were red and his cheeks still wet, but his expression had gone very calm, if bleak.
“We need to go.” He cleared his throat to get the teary thickness out of it. “I have... things to do.”
“Like what?” Shasta asked, trying to keep hold of him as he started to get up. “Jones, what are you planning?”
Jones just shook his head, pulling free of both Shiki and Shasta, and getting to his feet. “Take me back. I need to look after Emily and Andy.”
“Okay,” Shiki said soothingly. “I’ll take us.”
Jones glanced at him. “Your head.” He indicated on his own temple the spot where Shiki had a still-bloody gash. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Shiki offered a hand, smiling a little when Jones took it. He waited until Shasta had taken Jones’s other hand, and took them all back to Kaede’s house.
Jones pulled away as soon as they appeared in the living room, heading up the stairs towards the bedroom where Emily and Andy had been sleeping. Shasta saw Shiki jerk his chin in the direction of Jones’s back and nodded in return, hurrying to catch up to Jones on the stairs. He trailed him into the kids’ bedroom and watched him carefully as he checked them over; they both still slept, though Emily stirred a little under Jones’s hand when he stroked her hair.
“You should sleep too,” Shasta said after a bit. “Jones?”
“Yeah.” Jones looked at him almost without recognition then left the room again, bumping Shasta with his shoulder as he did. Shasta caught him in the hallway and put an arm around his waist, suddenly afraid that he was going to collapse. Jones ignored it after a brief disinterested glance, allowing Shasta to walk him down the hall towards the bedrooms. At the last instant Shasta took him to his own bedroom instead of the one Jones had been sharing with Andraeon, trying to avoid triggering any damaging memories.
He got Jones into the shower first and threw both of their bloody clothes in the garbage, then fetched some clean clothes from Jones’s room and sat down on the lid of the toilet to wait for Jones to finish washing. Jones got out of the shower after only a few minutes and dried off without expression, changing into shorts and a tank top before he headed into the bedroom with Shasta following behind him.
“This is your bed.” Jones glanced at Shasta, though with nothing more than a mild interest.
“I’m not sharing it with you, don’t worry.” Shasta pushed him down on the bed. “Get some sleep, Jones. Yell if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay.” Jones stretched out and closed his eyes, and within only a few moments he was fast asleep, his breathing deep and even. Shasta sat down on the edge of the bed to watch him for a while, stroking his dark hair, then left him to sleep and went downstairs to find Shiki and Kaede.
Kaede got up to hug him when he came into the kitchen, kissing his cheek before she let him sit down at the table and handed over a mug of coffee. Shasta sipped at it, listening quietly as Shiki finished filling Kaede in on Andraeon’s death and the disappearance of his body. He could feel exhaustion beginning to crash down on him despite the coffee, and from the way Shiki began to stumble over his words and repeat himself, he wasn’t the only one.
“All right, I think that’s enough for tonight.” Kaede reached over to gently touch the butterfly stitches she’d put across the gash on Shiki’s forehead. “Both of you need to go to bed, though I’m afraid I’ll be waking you up to make sure you don’t have a concussion, Shiki.”
“I gave Jones my bed, so I’m going to crash on the couch.” Shasta finished the last of his coffee and got up to give them each a kiss on the cheek before going into the living room and sprawling full-length on the couch. He pulled the blanket down from the back of the couch and rolled himself up in it, and fell asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes.
He woke again to a pitch-black darkness, feeling disoriented and confused. For a long moment he didn’t know where he was, then gradually the familiar furniture of Kaede’s living room came into focus and he remembered he was sleeping on the couch. He started to close his eyes again, then realized that what had woken him was the sound of someone else breathing. Looking around carefully, he pinpointed a shadow that didn’t belong, sitting on the edge of the armchair kitty-corner to the couch he was lying on.
As though she’d realized he was awake, Emily said, “Daddy’s sad, Shasta.”
“Yeah?” He reached up and fumbled on the lamp behind his head, squinting in its sudden glare. “Kiddo, it’s really creepy to sneak up on someone while they’re sleeping and just sit there in the dark watching them.”
“I didn’t want to wake you up but I couldn’t sleep.”
Shasta sighed. “Okay.”
“And Daddy doesn’t want to wake up because he’s sad because Drae went home.”
“Went home? Like your mommy went home?”
“No, stupid. Mommy died and went to the deadlands, you said so.” She rolled her eyes. “Drae wasn’t supposed to be here anyway so he went home.”
“Where’s home, Em?” Shasta asked, feeling wide awake now.
“I dunno.” She picked at a loose thread on the bottom of her pants. “But he died too. He just went home.”
“Oh.” Shasta sank back onto his pillow. “You want a drink or something, Em? Warm milk?”
“Yes,” she said and then after a slight pause, “Please.”
Shasta sighed again and heaved himself to his feet, a little surprised when Emily took his hand for the walk into the kitchen. She climbed into a chair as he quietly poured her a glass of milk and heated it up in the microwave, covering a yawn. Handing it over, he took one of the other chairs and leaned his head in his hands, half-closing his eyes.
“I can go back to bed now,” Emily announced when she’d finished the milk, startling Shasta out of a semi-doze. “Walk me upstairs, Shasta.”
“Your wish is my command,” Shasta muttered, but he got up and let Emily take his hand again, walking her upstairs and back to her bedroom. He helped her climb into bed with Andy, who still slept heavily, and tucked them both in. “No more sneaking downstairs while I’m sleeping, okay?”
“Okay. Good night, Shasta.” Emily snuggled in and closed her eyes.
“Night, kiddo.” Shasta ruffled her hair and left the room, closing the door halfway behind him. He started to go back downstairs, then detoured into his own room to check on Jones.
Jones lay curled up on his side, his face half-buried in the pillow. He’d bunched up the corner of the blanket and was hugging it like a stuffed toy, his fingers tangled in one of its folds so tightly his knuckles were white. Shasta reached out to gently untangle the blanket from his hand and smoothed it out over him, leaning down to kiss his forehead. Jones stirred, frowning, and startled Shasta by muttering his name. Thinking he was awake, Shasta moved back, but Jones only rolled over and hid his face in the pillow again.
“Sleep well,” Shasta said softly. “I hope at least your dreams are sweet.”
He watched Jones for a moment more then left the room and went back downstairs. Settling onto the couch, he pulled the blanket back over his legs and soon fell asleep again. In his dreams he met the Kingsblack and it spoke to him in Andraeon’s voice, warning him to stay away from Jones. When he refused it lunged at him and swallowed him whole, sending him spinning down into a blackness lit by pinpoints of starry light.
He woke with a start, his entire shoulder and side burning with pain. Hissing through his teeth, he gingerly peeled his shirt off and stared at the half-healed bite mark the Kingsblack had left him with. It glowed with a deep red light against his tanned skin, and only slowly faded away in the light of the new day.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)