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.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
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.
The Man Who Stole The World Part Two - Chapter Twenty Two
Emily and Andy were still fast asleep, curled up in each other’s arms, when Jones went into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed and brushed a lock of Emily’s dark hair away from her face, then gently stroked Andy’s hair as well. They were both so pale and grief had prematurely aged their faces, though sleep had smoothed the lines out somewhat.
He watched them sleep for a few minutes, relaxing a little in the quiet as he listened to their steady deep breathing. He purposely didn’t think about Andraeon or what Andraeon was doing, trying to just keep his mind blank. After a little while he kissed Emily’s forehead and started to get up to go find Kaede and get something to eat. Instinct warned him an instant too late and something caught him hard across the jaw even as he was trying to duck, sending him to his knees on the floor. Dazed and tasting blood in his mouth, he looked up and met Aloria’s mismatched eyes.
“You’ve got two choices, Jones,” she said quietly. “Come with me now or I will kill those children in their bed. Don’t even think about trying to get Kaede to help you. She’s fast but I’m faster. Now get up.”
He could see in her eyes that she was deadly serious. Cautiously he pushed himself to his feet, swallowing the blood in his mouth, and held his hands up to show they were empty. Her eyes flicked towards Emily and Andy, and he tensed his muscles to launch himself at her, but she only grabbed his arm and dragged him from the bedroom to a room he didn’t recognize, in a dark house that smelled of dust and age.
Jerking his arm free, he took a swing at her, only to have his fist caught. She laughed, though it was an angry sound, and shoved him back with incredible strength, so hard he tripped over his own feet and fell flat on his ass. Her smile widened and she reached down to grab the front of his shirt, obviously meaning to haul him up again. He grabbed her wrist instead, squeezing the delicate bones as hard as he could, until Aloria was forced to release his shirt as her fingers went numb. She slapped him with her other hand, splitting his lip open again, and rocking his head to the side.
He ducked the next blow, sweeping her feet out from under her so she landed on the dusty tiled floor with a thump. A distant part of his mind noted that he was already breathing hard; he was still weak and tired, his body having had no chance to recover from all the battering it had taken in the past few weeks. Even as he thought it he was a little too slow to avoid her kicking out at him and her heel caught him in the stomach, driving the air out of him. He doubled over with a grunt of pain and she slammed her knee into his nose, breaking it with an audible crack. Blood washed over his mouth and chin, and tears of pain half-blinded him.
Invisible bonds wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides, and he found himself dragged up onto his knees. He struggled but the bindings around him felt as hard as steel and dug painfully into his flesh the harder he fought to free himself. Eventually he gave up, panting for breath through his mouth and trying not to swallow blood from his busted nose, and glared up at Aloria.
“I kind of admire you, Jonesy,” she said, rubbing at her wrist. He could see bruises marking her pale skin even in the shadows. “Compared to us you’re about as strong as a kitten, but you keep fighting. I really shouldn’t have let you slip through my fingers.”
He said nothing, watching her warily and listening for any noise in the rest of the house. His eyes had adjusted to the dimness and he could see a tall fridge behind Aloria, and kitty-corner to it was a heavy gas-range stove. There was a doorway at either end, one likely leading to another room; there was just enough light at the other to show part of a hallway. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a curtained window over the sink and a part of his brain marked it as an escape route.
“None of us expected that you’d actually amount to anything,” Aloria continued. “You were an obnoxious brat as a teenager, hard to control and even harder to get to actually do anything. You wanted to be the strongest but you never wanted to work for it. And you showed no signs that what we’d given you even worked.”
“What did you give me?” he asked.
“Drae’s blood. Probably why you react so strongly to him. A little bit of him is inside you, and there’s even more in Emily. It’s going to be a shame to lose her as well.”
“You’re not touching her again,” he growled, though his voice sounded hollow to his own ears. “I will kill you.”
“I’m not going to bother, at least not directly. She’s going to self-destruct long before she gets old enough to learn to deal with her strength. Especially when she loses her remaining parent. You can take a hell of a lot of damage but you’re not invincible and you’re not immortal.” She smiled at him then tilted her head slightly as the clear sound of the front door opening. “And there’s the last actor in our little play.”
He struggled to get up even with his arms pinned against his side but he couldn’t even move; and when he tried to yell a warning he found his voice was gone. He could only glare mutely up at Aloria, who smiled serenely at him. Outside in the hallway Andraeon’s familiar power began to build up, enough to make Jones feel dizzy and sick, and bring fresh blood gushing from his nose. There was a series of dull bangs from the hall and a moment later Jones distinctly heard Shasta yelling, “Wait, Drae, we need to stick together! I can’t protect Shiki and fight kimla at the same time, damn you.”
If Andraeon replied Jones didn’t hear it; instead he heard rapid footsteps and then Andraeon appeared in the bit of light coming from the door to the hallway. He stopped when he saw Jones and his expression changed to one of wary fear when he looked up at Aloria. For a moment Jones felt the power surge and darkness danced across his vision, then Andraeon pulled it back and faced Aloria without it.
“Let him go. Please. You want me to come with you, fine.” Andraeon glanced anxiously at Jones then back up to Aloria. “Just let him go.”
“Do I look stupid to you, Drae? He walks out of here and you’ve got no reason to hold back. And even if you do keep up your end of the deal and come with me, I don’t want you anymore. You had that chance and you said no.”
“You’re not immortal.” Andraeon put a hand to his hip and pulled a gun loose from its holster. He took the stance Jones had shown him, holding the gun steady with its muzzle pointed at Aloria’s heart.
“Do you even know how to use that thing?” Aloria asked, her voice amused.
“Jones showed me. Let him go. I can shoot faster than you can stop me.” Andraeon’s eyes flicked briefly back to Jones but he looked away again before Jones could even attempt to mouth ‘stop’ at him. Desperately Jones fought to free himself again, struggling against the bonds so hard the muscles stood out in his arms.
“Did he?” Aloria asked sweetly, taking a step forward. “Did he also teach you how easy it is to disarm a total beginner like you? Maybe he should have concentrated on taking those cuffs off you.”
Andraeon’s eyes widened and Jones saw his finger tighten on the trigger; but before he could fire, the runes on his cuffs began to glow in response to Aloria’s voice. Desperation flashed across his face and Jones fought to stay conscious as power flowed over him, enough to crack the cuff on Andraeon’s left wrist. Before he could do the same to the right, Aloria shoved his arm up and elbowed him in the stomach, doubling him over. She yanked the gun from his hand and turned it on him even as he was trying to straighten up, pulling the trigger twice in quick succession.
The first bullet hit Andraeon high in the center of his chest, just under the line of his collarbone, and knocked him back a step. The second smashed into the left side of his chest, spinning him partially around. Jones watched in horror as he took a single stiff-legged step then collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Blood quickly turned his grey shirt a dark, dull red and stretched crimson fingers out across the tile, cutting channels through the dust.
Aloria stood watching it for a few moments, then turned back to Jones and almost gently pressed the muzzle of the gun against his forehead. He glared up at her, afraid and fighting not to show it. She stroked his hair with her other hand and pulled the trigger.
The gun only clicked and he saw her eyes widen in surprise, then he was already moving, throwing himself to the side. The bonds holding his arms to his sides had vanished and he caught himself with his hands, already scrambling to his feet. He saw movement coming from the hallway and Shasta appeared, throwing himself at Aloria and sending them both through the gate that had sprung up behind her. A wisp of fog drifted through into the kitchen then the gate snapped shut again.
Jones spared it just enough of a glance to make sure it was completely gone, then headed for Andraeon, who still lay motionless where he’d fallen. Jones’s hands trembled as he reached out to gently turn Andraeon from his side onto his back, cradling him with one arm. Andraeon’s eyes were open but dazed and though he still breathed, it was rapid and uneven. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth and Jones could feel it sticky and warm against his hands, quickly soaking into his clothes.
“Drae.” His voice hitched and he fought to keep the sinking feeling in his belly out of his words. “Can you hear me? Look at me.”
He saw Andraeon struggle to focus on him, the corner of his mouth curving up in a faint smile. Blood had painted his lips candy-red and Jones could hear his uneven breath whistling in his damaged chest. When he tried to speak he only coughed up more blood. Jones took his hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tightly, barely aware that he was crying. He felt Andraeon squeeze back, the barest pressure against his fingers, then his gaze went distant. His torn chest fell one last time and didn't rise again.
He watched them sleep for a few minutes, relaxing a little in the quiet as he listened to their steady deep breathing. He purposely didn’t think about Andraeon or what Andraeon was doing, trying to just keep his mind blank. After a little while he kissed Emily’s forehead and started to get up to go find Kaede and get something to eat. Instinct warned him an instant too late and something caught him hard across the jaw even as he was trying to duck, sending him to his knees on the floor. Dazed and tasting blood in his mouth, he looked up and met Aloria’s mismatched eyes.
“You’ve got two choices, Jones,” she said quietly. “Come with me now or I will kill those children in their bed. Don’t even think about trying to get Kaede to help you. She’s fast but I’m faster. Now get up.”
He could see in her eyes that she was deadly serious. Cautiously he pushed himself to his feet, swallowing the blood in his mouth, and held his hands up to show they were empty. Her eyes flicked towards Emily and Andy, and he tensed his muscles to launch himself at her, but she only grabbed his arm and dragged him from the bedroom to a room he didn’t recognize, in a dark house that smelled of dust and age.
Jerking his arm free, he took a swing at her, only to have his fist caught. She laughed, though it was an angry sound, and shoved him back with incredible strength, so hard he tripped over his own feet and fell flat on his ass. Her smile widened and she reached down to grab the front of his shirt, obviously meaning to haul him up again. He grabbed her wrist instead, squeezing the delicate bones as hard as he could, until Aloria was forced to release his shirt as her fingers went numb. She slapped him with her other hand, splitting his lip open again, and rocking his head to the side.
He ducked the next blow, sweeping her feet out from under her so she landed on the dusty tiled floor with a thump. A distant part of his mind noted that he was already breathing hard; he was still weak and tired, his body having had no chance to recover from all the battering it had taken in the past few weeks. Even as he thought it he was a little too slow to avoid her kicking out at him and her heel caught him in the stomach, driving the air out of him. He doubled over with a grunt of pain and she slammed her knee into his nose, breaking it with an audible crack. Blood washed over his mouth and chin, and tears of pain half-blinded him.
Invisible bonds wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides, and he found himself dragged up onto his knees. He struggled but the bindings around him felt as hard as steel and dug painfully into his flesh the harder he fought to free himself. Eventually he gave up, panting for breath through his mouth and trying not to swallow blood from his busted nose, and glared up at Aloria.
“I kind of admire you, Jonesy,” she said, rubbing at her wrist. He could see bruises marking her pale skin even in the shadows. “Compared to us you’re about as strong as a kitten, but you keep fighting. I really shouldn’t have let you slip through my fingers.”
He said nothing, watching her warily and listening for any noise in the rest of the house. His eyes had adjusted to the dimness and he could see a tall fridge behind Aloria, and kitty-corner to it was a heavy gas-range stove. There was a doorway at either end, one likely leading to another room; there was just enough light at the other to show part of a hallway. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a curtained window over the sink and a part of his brain marked it as an escape route.
“None of us expected that you’d actually amount to anything,” Aloria continued. “You were an obnoxious brat as a teenager, hard to control and even harder to get to actually do anything. You wanted to be the strongest but you never wanted to work for it. And you showed no signs that what we’d given you even worked.”
“What did you give me?” he asked.
“Drae’s blood. Probably why you react so strongly to him. A little bit of him is inside you, and there’s even more in Emily. It’s going to be a shame to lose her as well.”
“You’re not touching her again,” he growled, though his voice sounded hollow to his own ears. “I will kill you.”
“I’m not going to bother, at least not directly. She’s going to self-destruct long before she gets old enough to learn to deal with her strength. Especially when she loses her remaining parent. You can take a hell of a lot of damage but you’re not invincible and you’re not immortal.” She smiled at him then tilted her head slightly as the clear sound of the front door opening. “And there’s the last actor in our little play.”
He struggled to get up even with his arms pinned against his side but he couldn’t even move; and when he tried to yell a warning he found his voice was gone. He could only glare mutely up at Aloria, who smiled serenely at him. Outside in the hallway Andraeon’s familiar power began to build up, enough to make Jones feel dizzy and sick, and bring fresh blood gushing from his nose. There was a series of dull bangs from the hall and a moment later Jones distinctly heard Shasta yelling, “Wait, Drae, we need to stick together! I can’t protect Shiki and fight kimla at the same time, damn you.”
If Andraeon replied Jones didn’t hear it; instead he heard rapid footsteps and then Andraeon appeared in the bit of light coming from the door to the hallway. He stopped when he saw Jones and his expression changed to one of wary fear when he looked up at Aloria. For a moment Jones felt the power surge and darkness danced across his vision, then Andraeon pulled it back and faced Aloria without it.
“Let him go. Please. You want me to come with you, fine.” Andraeon glanced anxiously at Jones then back up to Aloria. “Just let him go.”
“Do I look stupid to you, Drae? He walks out of here and you’ve got no reason to hold back. And even if you do keep up your end of the deal and come with me, I don’t want you anymore. You had that chance and you said no.”
“You’re not immortal.” Andraeon put a hand to his hip and pulled a gun loose from its holster. He took the stance Jones had shown him, holding the gun steady with its muzzle pointed at Aloria’s heart.
“Do you even know how to use that thing?” Aloria asked, her voice amused.
“Jones showed me. Let him go. I can shoot faster than you can stop me.” Andraeon’s eyes flicked briefly back to Jones but he looked away again before Jones could even attempt to mouth ‘stop’ at him. Desperately Jones fought to free himself again, struggling against the bonds so hard the muscles stood out in his arms.
“Did he?” Aloria asked sweetly, taking a step forward. “Did he also teach you how easy it is to disarm a total beginner like you? Maybe he should have concentrated on taking those cuffs off you.”
Andraeon’s eyes widened and Jones saw his finger tighten on the trigger; but before he could fire, the runes on his cuffs began to glow in response to Aloria’s voice. Desperation flashed across his face and Jones fought to stay conscious as power flowed over him, enough to crack the cuff on Andraeon’s left wrist. Before he could do the same to the right, Aloria shoved his arm up and elbowed him in the stomach, doubling him over. She yanked the gun from his hand and turned it on him even as he was trying to straighten up, pulling the trigger twice in quick succession.
The first bullet hit Andraeon high in the center of his chest, just under the line of his collarbone, and knocked him back a step. The second smashed into the left side of his chest, spinning him partially around. Jones watched in horror as he took a single stiff-legged step then collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Blood quickly turned his grey shirt a dark, dull red and stretched crimson fingers out across the tile, cutting channels through the dust.
Aloria stood watching it for a few moments, then turned back to Jones and almost gently pressed the muzzle of the gun against his forehead. He glared up at her, afraid and fighting not to show it. She stroked his hair with her other hand and pulled the trigger.
The gun only clicked and he saw her eyes widen in surprise, then he was already moving, throwing himself to the side. The bonds holding his arms to his sides had vanished and he caught himself with his hands, already scrambling to his feet. He saw movement coming from the hallway and Shasta appeared, throwing himself at Aloria and sending them both through the gate that had sprung up behind her. A wisp of fog drifted through into the kitchen then the gate snapped shut again.
Jones spared it just enough of a glance to make sure it was completely gone, then headed for Andraeon, who still lay motionless where he’d fallen. Jones’s hands trembled as he reached out to gently turn Andraeon from his side onto his back, cradling him with one arm. Andraeon’s eyes were open but dazed and though he still breathed, it was rapid and uneven. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth and Jones could feel it sticky and warm against his hands, quickly soaking into his clothes.
“Drae.” His voice hitched and he fought to keep the sinking feeling in his belly out of his words. “Can you hear me? Look at me.”
He saw Andraeon struggle to focus on him, the corner of his mouth curving up in a faint smile. Blood had painted his lips candy-red and Jones could hear his uneven breath whistling in his damaged chest. When he tried to speak he only coughed up more blood. Jones took his hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tightly, barely aware that he was crying. He felt Andraeon squeeze back, the barest pressure against his fingers, then his gaze went distant. His torn chest fell one last time and didn't rise again.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
The Man Who Stole The World Part Two - Chapter Twenty One
“Shas. Wake up, Shasta.” Someone shook his shoulder, bringing him out of a restless sleep full of dark shadows and snakes rasping past his bare skin. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes, offering Shiki half a sleepy smile.
“What’s up?”
“You said to wake you up by dusk.” Shiki nodded to the window, where the last few pale shafts of sunlight were turning red and fading away. “It’s dusk. Sleep well?”
“Like crap.” Shasta pushed himself up and stretched gingerly, working his shoulder back and forth to get some of the stiffness out of it. “Sometimes I think I’ll never sleep well again.”
“You will.” Shiki kissed his cheek. “So the plan is to sic Drae on Aloria?”
“Uh... Yes. In essence. Find her, point, and tell Drae to get her. Though...” Shasta chewed on his bottom lip. “I want to give her a chance to take it all back. I mean, I know she can’t, exactly, but she’s my aunt. Only family I’ve got left.”
“You have us.”
“Yeah, but you don’t count,” Shasta said, and winced. “That came out wrong. I love you guys and you are my family.”
“We’re just not blood. Not Lockwoods.” Shiki smiled. “I get it, mostly. The Lockwood name is a big deal.”
“Besides, I’m too young to carry on the name. Maybe in ten years. Or twenty.” He stretched his shoulder again, wiggling his fingers, and pulled on some jeans over his boxers, then found a clean shirt to put on. “Okay, somewhat presentable. Where’s Drae?”
“Still with Jones, I think. Maybe sleeping too. Want to go check? I’m going to put some coffee on.” Shiki gave him a hug and left the room to head downstairs.
Shasta blew a kiss at his retreating back and headed to the other bedroom, knocking lightly on the closed door then opening it when Andraeon’s voice called for him to come in. “Hey, Drae, ready to—” He stopped dead when he saw Jones sitting up on the edge of the bed, watching him with an inscrutable expression. Andraeon was standing by the closet, shrugging into a clean shirt, his eyes downcast. “Jonesy. You’re awake.”
“Figure that out all by yourself?” Jones asked, his tone sharp.
“And you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, that’s great. How about you take off the cranky pants and stop snapping at me?”
Jones glared at him for a moment then ducked his head. “Point taken.”
“Good. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” Shasta waited expectantly for him to continue but the silence just stretched out.
“Okay,” he said finally. “Glad to see you’re as communicative as ever. If you’re okay with getting up, Shiki’s putting coffee on and we need to talk about some things, like Aloria.”
“We don’t need to talk,” Andraeon said. “We’re still going and Jones is staying here.”
Shasta raised an eyebrow slightly and looked between them, trying to figure out why they both looked upset. “So... Jones is okay with that?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea but I don’t think I’ll be able to help with any of it. So good luck.” Jones got stiffly to his feet and limped towards the door.
Shasta looked after him, puzzled, then gave Andraeon a ‘wait here’ signal and jogged after Jones, catching up to him and taking his arm before he went into Emily’s room. “Hold on a second.”
“What do you want?”
“To know what crawled up your ass and died, first of all, and what’s going on with you and Drae, though I get the feeling it’ll be the same answer to both. You two seemed all sunshine and roses before.”
“Things change.” Jones shifted his weight back onto his heels. “Are you done with the interrogation? I need to check on my daughter.”
“Oh grow the fuck up. You’re acting like a spoiled child and trust me, I’d know. Whatever happened with you and Drae, maybe it’s none of my business, but I really don’t need you sulking around here and being a total shithead to me when I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong. Get over yourself and either make up with Drae, or learn how to act like a goddamn civil human being. Or I will personally kick your ass so hard your mother will feel it.” Shasta took a deep breath, surprised at the extent of his own anger. “Got it?”
“Got it,” Jones said stiffly, but the anger had faded from his face. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re just stressed, right? I can get that.” Shasta stood up on tiptoe to kiss Jones’s cheek and without thinking brushed another kiss across Jones’s mouth. He only realized what he was doing when Jones pulled back, giving him a puzzled and suddenly wary look, and felt his cheeks go red. “Shit, sorry. Habit. I’m going to go...” He jerked a thumb towards the stairs and headed that way, wondering when exactly he’d turned into a tongue-tied moron.
Andraeon met him at the top of the stairs and followed him down. Feeling absurdly guilty, Shasta just nodded to him, then suddenly remembered the dog tag he was still carrying in his pocket, the twin to the one he was wearing around his neck. Fumbling it out, he turned before the bottom step and held it out to Andraeon.
“Elle said to give you this. She said it was important you wear it, though I’ll be fucked if I know why.”
Andraeon gave him an odd look, then reached out and took the tag, letting the chain fall through his fingers. His expression changed almost to a wince when he saw the name stamped on the metal and he pulled it in close to his chest. “Thanks. Just the one?”
“Yeah, just that one,” Shasta replied, deciding on the spur of the moment not to mention the one he himself was wearing underneath his shirt. “She might just be messing around with us.”
“Maybe,” Andraeon said, but he slipped the chain over his head anyway, tucking the tag beneath his own shirt. He passed by Shasta on the way down the rest of the stairs, and this time Shasta followed him into the kitchen.
Shiki served them coffee and took a seat at the table with his own mug, listening quietly as Shasta gave a truncated version of finding Jones awake and cranky. He nodded when Shasta said Jones had agreed to let them go alone, though an expression of concern flashed across his face; but he didn’t say anything and the conversation turned to how they would find Aloria.
“The old farm,” Shasta said after a few suggestions. “I bet if we can find her anywhere, it’s there. And I bet she’ll be waiting for us.”
“I can handle her,” Andraeon said quietly. “Let’s go.”
“I don’t know if now is the best time,” Shiki started, but Shasta stopped him with an upraised hand.
“I want to get it over with too.” He drained the last of his coffee. “The more I stop to think about it, the more I just want to go and hide. So yeah, let’s go.”
Shiki looked between them then shrugged. “All right. Let me just go tell Mom.”
He got up and left the room, leaving Shasta and Andraeon to sit in an awkward silence, until it was broken by someone clearing their throat, making them both jump.
“I know what you did, Shasta,” Elle said in a sing-song voice. “Want me to tell?”
“Not unless you want a coffee cup thrown at your head. Come here to talk more nonsense disguised as advice?”
“No, I came to give Drae these.” Elle held up Jones’s gunbelt, with both guns snug in their holsters. “I take it Jonesy isn’t going with you.”
“It’s safer if he doesn’t.” Andraeon got up and went to take the gunbelt from her hands. “Why are you giving these to me, and not back to him?”
“Because you need to take them with you. Even dreamwalkers are mortal and you never know when your magic will fail. Or you can give them back to Jones, I don’t care much. Either way things are coming to a head.”
“How do you know that?” Shasta demanded, but he was talking to empty air; Elle had vanished. “Shit, she annoys me.”
Andraeon smiled a little, looking down at the guns. He traced a line across the butt of one, then buckled the gun awkwardly around his hips. “These are heavier than they look.”
“Please just don’t shoot yourself in the foot,” Shasta said. “I really don’t know what Elle’s thinking, giving them to you. No offense.”
Andraeon shrugged. “I guess she has her reasons.”
“I’ll bet,” Shasta muttered, getting to his feet when Shiki came back into the room. “Elle gave Drae Jonesy’s guns, so don’t get too close.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Shiki started, eyeing the guns.
“I don’t care,” Andraeon snapped. “I want to go now.”
Shasta felt the hair on the back of his neck start to stand on end and exchanged a glance with Shiki. Shiki nodded and took both their hands, taking them straight to the front porch of the old farmhouse Shasta had been born in. Shasta gave Shiki’s hand a squeeze then went up to the front door and laid his palm flat against the lock, which disengaged under his hand. The door swung open to allow them into the dark empty hallway, with its cloth-draped furnishings and thin layer of dust over everything.
Stepping up beside him, Shiki called up a small circular flash to light their way and together they stepped into the hall, Andraeon trailing along behind them. The house was silent and smelled a little musty, but not as much as Shasta had expected, considering he hadn’t been here for at least ten years. It was supposed to have been closed up, but of course Aloria would have been able to get in as easily as Shasta just had; and it was technically her house as the current head of the Lockwoods.
The front door slammed shut behind them, startling Shasta into a quickly muffled yelp. All three of them froze, their breathing very loud in the silence, and Shasta felt something cold pass by his leg. Swearing under his breath he lunged away from Shiki so they wouldn’t present such a tempting target, squinting to see the kimla in the darkness. He sensed Shiki moving to the other side of the hallway and felt the static electricity sensation that said Andraeon was pulling his power. An instant later he caught the shimmer of the kimla’s shielding and kicked out at it as hard as he could, catching it in the jaw with his heel. It reared back and Shiki hit it with a neat killing blow, sending it crashing into the wall.
The second kimla hit Shasta in the back, knocking him to the floor. The impact jolted his shoulder and he yelped in pain, struggling to free himself. He felt Andraeon unleash power but the kimla remained on his back, snuffling at the back of his neck. Expecting to feel its teeth sink into his spine at any moment, he threw himself to the side, freeing himself just enough to roll over and kick the kimla off.
He scrambled to his feet, throwing himself back again to avoid another lunge from the kimla. Down the hall Andraeon stood over Shiki’s limp form, holding off what sounded like an entire pack. Shasta ran for them and threw himself down across Shiki to protect him as Andraeon lashed out in a wide circle around them. The kimla hit the walls in a series of dull thumps and cracks, and all but two slumped down to the floor and stayed there. Those two only staggered in drunken circles until Andraeon killed them with a single sharp blow.
“Take care of Shiki,” he said, already moving down the hall towards the kitchen and living room.
“Wait, Drae, we need to stick together!” Shasta yelled after him. “I can’t protect Shiki and fight kimla at the same time, damn you.”
Andraeon glanced back, then flicked a hand almost negligently. A circle of white light appeared on the floor around Shasta and Shiki and flared up into a shield that stretched from floor to ceiling. When Shasta reached out a hand to touch it, it gave him a mild shock, like static electricity. Helpless to do anything to get out, he watched Andraeon turn into the kitchen and disappear from view.
Silence settled over them and Shasta knelt down to check on Shiki, relieved to see that he was still breathing, though blood had sheeted over half of his face from a nasty gash across his temple. His heartbeat was steady and even as Shasta sat down to cradle his head, he started to stir. Shasta stroked his hair, then froze as from the direction of the kitchen he heard two gunshots in quick succession, followed by a heavy silence.
Around them Andraeon’s shield fizzled and went out.
“What’s up?”
“You said to wake you up by dusk.” Shiki nodded to the window, where the last few pale shafts of sunlight were turning red and fading away. “It’s dusk. Sleep well?”
“Like crap.” Shasta pushed himself up and stretched gingerly, working his shoulder back and forth to get some of the stiffness out of it. “Sometimes I think I’ll never sleep well again.”
“You will.” Shiki kissed his cheek. “So the plan is to sic Drae on Aloria?”
“Uh... Yes. In essence. Find her, point, and tell Drae to get her. Though...” Shasta chewed on his bottom lip. “I want to give her a chance to take it all back. I mean, I know she can’t, exactly, but she’s my aunt. Only family I’ve got left.”
“You have us.”
“Yeah, but you don’t count,” Shasta said, and winced. “That came out wrong. I love you guys and you are my family.”
“We’re just not blood. Not Lockwoods.” Shiki smiled. “I get it, mostly. The Lockwood name is a big deal.”
“Besides, I’m too young to carry on the name. Maybe in ten years. Or twenty.” He stretched his shoulder again, wiggling his fingers, and pulled on some jeans over his boxers, then found a clean shirt to put on. “Okay, somewhat presentable. Where’s Drae?”
“Still with Jones, I think. Maybe sleeping too. Want to go check? I’m going to put some coffee on.” Shiki gave him a hug and left the room to head downstairs.
Shasta blew a kiss at his retreating back and headed to the other bedroom, knocking lightly on the closed door then opening it when Andraeon’s voice called for him to come in. “Hey, Drae, ready to—” He stopped dead when he saw Jones sitting up on the edge of the bed, watching him with an inscrutable expression. Andraeon was standing by the closet, shrugging into a clean shirt, his eyes downcast. “Jonesy. You’re awake.”
“Figure that out all by yourself?” Jones asked, his tone sharp.
“And you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, that’s great. How about you take off the cranky pants and stop snapping at me?”
Jones glared at him for a moment then ducked his head. “Point taken.”
“Good. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” Shasta waited expectantly for him to continue but the silence just stretched out.
“Okay,” he said finally. “Glad to see you’re as communicative as ever. If you’re okay with getting up, Shiki’s putting coffee on and we need to talk about some things, like Aloria.”
“We don’t need to talk,” Andraeon said. “We’re still going and Jones is staying here.”
Shasta raised an eyebrow slightly and looked between them, trying to figure out why they both looked upset. “So... Jones is okay with that?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea but I don’t think I’ll be able to help with any of it. So good luck.” Jones got stiffly to his feet and limped towards the door.
Shasta looked after him, puzzled, then gave Andraeon a ‘wait here’ signal and jogged after Jones, catching up to him and taking his arm before he went into Emily’s room. “Hold on a second.”
“What do you want?”
“To know what crawled up your ass and died, first of all, and what’s going on with you and Drae, though I get the feeling it’ll be the same answer to both. You two seemed all sunshine and roses before.”
“Things change.” Jones shifted his weight back onto his heels. “Are you done with the interrogation? I need to check on my daughter.”
“Oh grow the fuck up. You’re acting like a spoiled child and trust me, I’d know. Whatever happened with you and Drae, maybe it’s none of my business, but I really don’t need you sulking around here and being a total shithead to me when I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong. Get over yourself and either make up with Drae, or learn how to act like a goddamn civil human being. Or I will personally kick your ass so hard your mother will feel it.” Shasta took a deep breath, surprised at the extent of his own anger. “Got it?”
“Got it,” Jones said stiffly, but the anger had faded from his face. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re just stressed, right? I can get that.” Shasta stood up on tiptoe to kiss Jones’s cheek and without thinking brushed another kiss across Jones’s mouth. He only realized what he was doing when Jones pulled back, giving him a puzzled and suddenly wary look, and felt his cheeks go red. “Shit, sorry. Habit. I’m going to go...” He jerked a thumb towards the stairs and headed that way, wondering when exactly he’d turned into a tongue-tied moron.
Andraeon met him at the top of the stairs and followed him down. Feeling absurdly guilty, Shasta just nodded to him, then suddenly remembered the dog tag he was still carrying in his pocket, the twin to the one he was wearing around his neck. Fumbling it out, he turned before the bottom step and held it out to Andraeon.
“Elle said to give you this. She said it was important you wear it, though I’ll be fucked if I know why.”
Andraeon gave him an odd look, then reached out and took the tag, letting the chain fall through his fingers. His expression changed almost to a wince when he saw the name stamped on the metal and he pulled it in close to his chest. “Thanks. Just the one?”
“Yeah, just that one,” Shasta replied, deciding on the spur of the moment not to mention the one he himself was wearing underneath his shirt. “She might just be messing around with us.”
“Maybe,” Andraeon said, but he slipped the chain over his head anyway, tucking the tag beneath his own shirt. He passed by Shasta on the way down the rest of the stairs, and this time Shasta followed him into the kitchen.
Shiki served them coffee and took a seat at the table with his own mug, listening quietly as Shasta gave a truncated version of finding Jones awake and cranky. He nodded when Shasta said Jones had agreed to let them go alone, though an expression of concern flashed across his face; but he didn’t say anything and the conversation turned to how they would find Aloria.
“The old farm,” Shasta said after a few suggestions. “I bet if we can find her anywhere, it’s there. And I bet she’ll be waiting for us.”
“I can handle her,” Andraeon said quietly. “Let’s go.”
“I don’t know if now is the best time,” Shiki started, but Shasta stopped him with an upraised hand.
“I want to get it over with too.” He drained the last of his coffee. “The more I stop to think about it, the more I just want to go and hide. So yeah, let’s go.”
Shiki looked between them then shrugged. “All right. Let me just go tell Mom.”
He got up and left the room, leaving Shasta and Andraeon to sit in an awkward silence, until it was broken by someone clearing their throat, making them both jump.
“I know what you did, Shasta,” Elle said in a sing-song voice. “Want me to tell?”
“Not unless you want a coffee cup thrown at your head. Come here to talk more nonsense disguised as advice?”
“No, I came to give Drae these.” Elle held up Jones’s gunbelt, with both guns snug in their holsters. “I take it Jonesy isn’t going with you.”
“It’s safer if he doesn’t.” Andraeon got up and went to take the gunbelt from her hands. “Why are you giving these to me, and not back to him?”
“Because you need to take them with you. Even dreamwalkers are mortal and you never know when your magic will fail. Or you can give them back to Jones, I don’t care much. Either way things are coming to a head.”
“How do you know that?” Shasta demanded, but he was talking to empty air; Elle had vanished. “Shit, she annoys me.”
Andraeon smiled a little, looking down at the guns. He traced a line across the butt of one, then buckled the gun awkwardly around his hips. “These are heavier than they look.”
“Please just don’t shoot yourself in the foot,” Shasta said. “I really don’t know what Elle’s thinking, giving them to you. No offense.”
Andraeon shrugged. “I guess she has her reasons.”
“I’ll bet,” Shasta muttered, getting to his feet when Shiki came back into the room. “Elle gave Drae Jonesy’s guns, so don’t get too close.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Shiki started, eyeing the guns.
“I don’t care,” Andraeon snapped. “I want to go now.”
Shasta felt the hair on the back of his neck start to stand on end and exchanged a glance with Shiki. Shiki nodded and took both their hands, taking them straight to the front porch of the old farmhouse Shasta had been born in. Shasta gave Shiki’s hand a squeeze then went up to the front door and laid his palm flat against the lock, which disengaged under his hand. The door swung open to allow them into the dark empty hallway, with its cloth-draped furnishings and thin layer of dust over everything.
Stepping up beside him, Shiki called up a small circular flash to light their way and together they stepped into the hall, Andraeon trailing along behind them. The house was silent and smelled a little musty, but not as much as Shasta had expected, considering he hadn’t been here for at least ten years. It was supposed to have been closed up, but of course Aloria would have been able to get in as easily as Shasta just had; and it was technically her house as the current head of the Lockwoods.
The front door slammed shut behind them, startling Shasta into a quickly muffled yelp. All three of them froze, their breathing very loud in the silence, and Shasta felt something cold pass by his leg. Swearing under his breath he lunged away from Shiki so they wouldn’t present such a tempting target, squinting to see the kimla in the darkness. He sensed Shiki moving to the other side of the hallway and felt the static electricity sensation that said Andraeon was pulling his power. An instant later he caught the shimmer of the kimla’s shielding and kicked out at it as hard as he could, catching it in the jaw with his heel. It reared back and Shiki hit it with a neat killing blow, sending it crashing into the wall.
The second kimla hit Shasta in the back, knocking him to the floor. The impact jolted his shoulder and he yelped in pain, struggling to free himself. He felt Andraeon unleash power but the kimla remained on his back, snuffling at the back of his neck. Expecting to feel its teeth sink into his spine at any moment, he threw himself to the side, freeing himself just enough to roll over and kick the kimla off.
He scrambled to his feet, throwing himself back again to avoid another lunge from the kimla. Down the hall Andraeon stood over Shiki’s limp form, holding off what sounded like an entire pack. Shasta ran for them and threw himself down across Shiki to protect him as Andraeon lashed out in a wide circle around them. The kimla hit the walls in a series of dull thumps and cracks, and all but two slumped down to the floor and stayed there. Those two only staggered in drunken circles until Andraeon killed them with a single sharp blow.
“Take care of Shiki,” he said, already moving down the hall towards the kitchen and living room.
“Wait, Drae, we need to stick together!” Shasta yelled after him. “I can’t protect Shiki and fight kimla at the same time, damn you.”
Andraeon glanced back, then flicked a hand almost negligently. A circle of white light appeared on the floor around Shasta and Shiki and flared up into a shield that stretched from floor to ceiling. When Shasta reached out a hand to touch it, it gave him a mild shock, like static electricity. Helpless to do anything to get out, he watched Andraeon turn into the kitchen and disappear from view.
Silence settled over them and Shasta knelt down to check on Shiki, relieved to see that he was still breathing, though blood had sheeted over half of his face from a nasty gash across his temple. His heartbeat was steady and even as Shasta sat down to cradle his head, he started to stir. Shasta stroked his hair, then froze as from the direction of the kitchen he heard two gunshots in quick succession, followed by a heavy silence.
Around them Andraeon’s shield fizzled and went out.
The Man Who Stole The World Part Two - Chapter Twenty
Andraeon collapsed into the armchair, his ears ringing, and put his head in his arms. Thick hair fell forward around his face like a curtain, hiding his features from view. For a long moment he just sat there, taking deep breaths and letting them out slowly until his headache started to fade a little. Emily had taken news of her father’s unconscious state about as well as he had expected, and he could still hear her screaming faintly inside his head. Kaede had been forced to sedate her again before she hurt them or damaged the house; and Andy had been too dazed by the loss of his mother to calm her as he usually did. Now they slept cuddled up in their shared bedroom, both of them pale and exhausted.
“Hey Drae.” Shiki touched his shoulder, making him jump. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He sat up and tucked his hair behind both ears. “Just a bit of a headache.”
“She’s got a powerful set of lungs.” Shiki squeezed his shoulder and went to check on Jones, laying a hand on his cheek and closing his eyes for a moment. Andraeon watched him, hoping he’d see some sort of change, but Jones didn’t stir.
“Think he’ll wake up soon?” Andraeon asked, trying to keep his voice natural and not overly hopeful.
“I don’t know. Hopefully.” Shiki straightened up and sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s hard to tell with this kind of thing. There’s not a lot of... physical damage now but he’s taken a lot of beatings recently. This may just be his body’s way of saying enough.”
Andraeon sighed. “I just wish I’d thought before I went storming in there.”
“Welcome to the real world. Shas said he wanted to talk to us, by the way. You feel up to it?”
“Not really. I guess I’m hoping if I sit here long enough he’ll come back.” Andraeon offered half a smile. “Probably stupid, right?”
“If you think it’ll help, maybe it will. Just take care of yourself as well.” Shiki got up and headed out, ruffling Andraeon’s hair on the way by. He paused at the door and glanced back. “Don’t beat yourself up over it either. You didn’t mean to hurt him.”
Remembering the joy he’d felt, and the way it erased all concern he had for anyone else, Andraeon said nothing. Shiki studied him for a minute, then lifted a hand in a small wave and left the room. Andraeon listened to his footsteps go down the hall and then down the stairs, then turned back to Jones and took his limp hand. He traced the scars encircling Jones’s forearm, feeling the warmth of his skin, and studied his profile, willing him to open his eyes.
“Are you dreaming, Jones?” he asked softly. “I wonder if I can find you if you are.” He hesitated, thinking about trying it, but before he could, Shasta poked his head into the room and said his name. “What?”
“I do really need to talk to you. If you won’t come to me, I guess I’ll just do it here.” He came into the room and sat in the same spot Shiki had sat in earlier, absently brushing the back of his hand against Jones’s sheet-covered hip. Catching Andraeon’s glare, he dropped both hands in his lap. “Elle was here earlier.”
“Great,” Andraeon said noncommittally.
“She said we had to go after Aloria, before Aloria comes for us.”
“I can’t leave Jones.”
“Actually, this is sort of the perfect opportunity. Jones stays safe here and you can really unleash on her.”
Andraeon opened his mouth to snap at him, then stopped and really thought about it. It made a lot of sense, even if he rebelled at the thought of leaving with Jones still unconscious. Without Jones to protect, he wouldn’t have to hold back when they found Aloria, and he knew now that despite what she’d said, he was more than ready for her.
“Okay,” he said finally. “Just give me today. If Jones wakes up...”
“If he does, we can chat again. Or we can tell him to sit his skinny ass down and let us handle things.”
Andraeon smiled a bit. “Like he’d ever allow that.”
“Tie him to the bed.” Shasta pushed himself to his feet, wincing a bit and rubbing lightly at his shoulder. “I’m going to go lie down for a bit. Yell if you need anything.”
Andraeon lifted a hand as he left the room, then got up to shut the door. He stripped down to his shorts and crawled under the sheet with Jones, curling up against in his usual spot against his side and draping an arm over Jones’s stomach. He could feel the gentle rise and fall of Jones’s breathing, comfortingly steady. Closing his eyes, Andraeon hid his face against the curve of Jones’s neck and willed himself to go to sleep.
As he drifted off, he pictured the room they were lying in, hoping that it would somehow lead him to wherever Jones was. In the darkness behind his eyes the bedroom began to take shape as he saw it at night, when most of it was shadowed and blue in the moonlight. He didn’t feel himself fall asleep, but he suddenly realized that the warmth was gone from under his arm and he could no longer hear Jones’s breathing. A jolt of fear went through him and he sat up, the dark bedroom greeting him as he opened his eyes; but the room was completely empty.
“Jones?” He unconsciously kept his voice soft, afraid of drawing the wrong sort of attention. When no one answered, he got carefully out of bed and padded across to the half-open door, listening for any sound out in the hallway. The house remained unnaturally silent and he reminded himself that this was nothing but a dream, no matter how strange, as he pushed open the door and stepped out.
There was a light on downstairs, its faint glow just reaching the first few steps on the stairs. He went down towards it on light feet, wincing a little when one of the steps creaked with a sound so loud it seemed to echo through the house. Taking a deep breath he continued on, moving down the hallway and into the kitchen.
Jones sat at the kitchen table with his back towards the doorway where Andraeon stood watching him, resisting the urge to go right to him. Something was making him wary and he stayed where he was, trying to figure out what. Eventually he tentatively decided it was the way Jones was sitting, his shoulders hunched forward and his head down. Even from the doorway Andraeon could see the muscles tensed across his back under his shirt.
“Jones?” Andraeon asked, still softly. “Can you hear me?”
“I hear you.” Even his voice sounded odd, though Andraeon couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. “What do you want?”
“I want you to come home. I miss you.”
“I’m not ready to come home yet.”
“Why not?” Andraeon made his way around the table and started to take a seat, but froze when Jones finally lifted his head and looked at him. Jones’s eyes were black from lid to lid, their familiar blue-grey completely erased. “Jones?”
“Go away, Drae.” Jones looked down again and Andraeon saw he had a full glass of whiskey in front of him. Before Andraeon could stop him, he picked it up and downed most of it in one long swallow.
“Jones, this isn’t real.” Andraeon sat carefully on the edge of the seat. “You need to come back home now.”
Jones just shook his head, tracing a finger through the condensation on the glass. Between one blink and the next it refilled with golden whiskey. As he started to pick it up again, Andraeon shoved himself up from his chair and smacked it out of his hand, sending it spinning off the table to shatter on the tile floor. For the first time Jones actually showed an emotion: shock. Before Jones could move, Andraeon took his face in both hands and kissed him, tasting the whiskey on his lips and tongue. He felt Jones start in surprise, then Jones caught hold of his hips and pulled him in closer, onto his lap.
Andraeon forced himself to pull back after only a few moments, studying Jones’s face for any change. He thought he could see a hint of blue-grey in the blackness of Jones’s eyes and for the first time Jones actually seemed to be focused on him. Getting up, Andraeon coaxed him to his feet and led the way to the stairs, keeping a tight hold of Jones’s hand. He saw Jones look back once, at the glass which had reappeared whole and full on the kitchen table, but he didn’t resist when Andraeon gently caught his jaw and turned his face away.
They made their way up the stairs and Andraeon tugged Jones down the hall towards the bedroom, convinced now that it was the only way to bring Jones back. If he could just get Jones into bed here, he could bring them both back to the waking world.
They were just outside the door when Jones caught him around the waist and pinned him up against the wall, trapping his hands up over his head. He leaned in until their mouths were only inches apart but didn’t kiss Andraeon, hesitating instead and sliding his hands down to Andraeon’s shoulders. “I have to go,” he murmured, and before Andraeon could stop him, he had turned and walked away, vanishing after only a few steps.
Andraeon stared at the empty hallway for a long, numb moment, then a surge of anger went through him. He went after Jones as hard as he could, relying on instinct to tell him what to do and where to go. Jones appeared before him, walking through the fog of the between places with his head down. Picking up speed, Andraeon tackled him, knocking him flat and shoving him over before he could gather his wits. He sat his weight hard on Jones’s hips and grabbed his wrists, pinning them against the ground much as Jones had pinned him against the wall only minutes earlier.
“We are going home,” Andraeon growled. “I am not putting up with this anymore. Stop fighting me.”
Jones only looked at him, his face expressionless. He didn’t try to escape, though he had curled his fingers in against his palms and Andraeon could feel how tense his muscles were.
“You’re not even going to answer me?” Andraeon asked after a moment of silence, trying to catch and hold Jones’s gaze. “Then you can listen. This is ridiculous, Jones. You’ve spent years running away and now you’re just trying to do it again. It stops here and now. Whatever triggered this—”
“You,” Jones said quietly.
Andraeon closed his mouth with a snap and looked away. “I know,” he said after a minute ticked by in silence. “And I’m sorry.”
“You scare me.”
“I know.”
“Drae, look at me.” Reluctantly Andraeon did as he was told, startled when he saw that the blackness was almost completely gone from Jones’s eyes. “Drae, you scare the shit out of me and it makes me not want to be around you.” He offered half a smile. “Though I guess this is taking it to extremes.”
Andraeon laughed despite himself, though it was weak. “I don’t know what to do. I never want to hurt you. I just always do.”
“I know.” Jones freed a hand and reached up to cup his cheek. “I love you but I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“You don’t... we don’t have to decide now. Come home with me, Jones. Rest there and make sure Emily’s okay if nothing else. Okay?”
Jones pulled him down and kissed him lightly and briefly, a kiss Andraeon struggled not to think of as a goodbye. With the taste of whiskey still faint in his mouth, Andraeon pulled them back to the bedroom.
“Hey Drae.” Shiki touched his shoulder, making him jump. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He sat up and tucked his hair behind both ears. “Just a bit of a headache.”
“She’s got a powerful set of lungs.” Shiki squeezed his shoulder and went to check on Jones, laying a hand on his cheek and closing his eyes for a moment. Andraeon watched him, hoping he’d see some sort of change, but Jones didn’t stir.
“Think he’ll wake up soon?” Andraeon asked, trying to keep his voice natural and not overly hopeful.
“I don’t know. Hopefully.” Shiki straightened up and sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s hard to tell with this kind of thing. There’s not a lot of... physical damage now but he’s taken a lot of beatings recently. This may just be his body’s way of saying enough.”
Andraeon sighed. “I just wish I’d thought before I went storming in there.”
“Welcome to the real world. Shas said he wanted to talk to us, by the way. You feel up to it?”
“Not really. I guess I’m hoping if I sit here long enough he’ll come back.” Andraeon offered half a smile. “Probably stupid, right?”
“If you think it’ll help, maybe it will. Just take care of yourself as well.” Shiki got up and headed out, ruffling Andraeon’s hair on the way by. He paused at the door and glanced back. “Don’t beat yourself up over it either. You didn’t mean to hurt him.”
Remembering the joy he’d felt, and the way it erased all concern he had for anyone else, Andraeon said nothing. Shiki studied him for a minute, then lifted a hand in a small wave and left the room. Andraeon listened to his footsteps go down the hall and then down the stairs, then turned back to Jones and took his limp hand. He traced the scars encircling Jones’s forearm, feeling the warmth of his skin, and studied his profile, willing him to open his eyes.
“Are you dreaming, Jones?” he asked softly. “I wonder if I can find you if you are.” He hesitated, thinking about trying it, but before he could, Shasta poked his head into the room and said his name. “What?”
“I do really need to talk to you. If you won’t come to me, I guess I’ll just do it here.” He came into the room and sat in the same spot Shiki had sat in earlier, absently brushing the back of his hand against Jones’s sheet-covered hip. Catching Andraeon’s glare, he dropped both hands in his lap. “Elle was here earlier.”
“Great,” Andraeon said noncommittally.
“She said we had to go after Aloria, before Aloria comes for us.”
“I can’t leave Jones.”
“Actually, this is sort of the perfect opportunity. Jones stays safe here and you can really unleash on her.”
Andraeon opened his mouth to snap at him, then stopped and really thought about it. It made a lot of sense, even if he rebelled at the thought of leaving with Jones still unconscious. Without Jones to protect, he wouldn’t have to hold back when they found Aloria, and he knew now that despite what she’d said, he was more than ready for her.
“Okay,” he said finally. “Just give me today. If Jones wakes up...”
“If he does, we can chat again. Or we can tell him to sit his skinny ass down and let us handle things.”
Andraeon smiled a bit. “Like he’d ever allow that.”
“Tie him to the bed.” Shasta pushed himself to his feet, wincing a bit and rubbing lightly at his shoulder. “I’m going to go lie down for a bit. Yell if you need anything.”
Andraeon lifted a hand as he left the room, then got up to shut the door. He stripped down to his shorts and crawled under the sheet with Jones, curling up against in his usual spot against his side and draping an arm over Jones’s stomach. He could feel the gentle rise and fall of Jones’s breathing, comfortingly steady. Closing his eyes, Andraeon hid his face against the curve of Jones’s neck and willed himself to go to sleep.
As he drifted off, he pictured the room they were lying in, hoping that it would somehow lead him to wherever Jones was. In the darkness behind his eyes the bedroom began to take shape as he saw it at night, when most of it was shadowed and blue in the moonlight. He didn’t feel himself fall asleep, but he suddenly realized that the warmth was gone from under his arm and he could no longer hear Jones’s breathing. A jolt of fear went through him and he sat up, the dark bedroom greeting him as he opened his eyes; but the room was completely empty.
“Jones?” He unconsciously kept his voice soft, afraid of drawing the wrong sort of attention. When no one answered, he got carefully out of bed and padded across to the half-open door, listening for any sound out in the hallway. The house remained unnaturally silent and he reminded himself that this was nothing but a dream, no matter how strange, as he pushed open the door and stepped out.
There was a light on downstairs, its faint glow just reaching the first few steps on the stairs. He went down towards it on light feet, wincing a little when one of the steps creaked with a sound so loud it seemed to echo through the house. Taking a deep breath he continued on, moving down the hallway and into the kitchen.
Jones sat at the kitchen table with his back towards the doorway where Andraeon stood watching him, resisting the urge to go right to him. Something was making him wary and he stayed where he was, trying to figure out what. Eventually he tentatively decided it was the way Jones was sitting, his shoulders hunched forward and his head down. Even from the doorway Andraeon could see the muscles tensed across his back under his shirt.
“Jones?” Andraeon asked, still softly. “Can you hear me?”
“I hear you.” Even his voice sounded odd, though Andraeon couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. “What do you want?”
“I want you to come home. I miss you.”
“I’m not ready to come home yet.”
“Why not?” Andraeon made his way around the table and started to take a seat, but froze when Jones finally lifted his head and looked at him. Jones’s eyes were black from lid to lid, their familiar blue-grey completely erased. “Jones?”
“Go away, Drae.” Jones looked down again and Andraeon saw he had a full glass of whiskey in front of him. Before Andraeon could stop him, he picked it up and downed most of it in one long swallow.
“Jones, this isn’t real.” Andraeon sat carefully on the edge of the seat. “You need to come back home now.”
Jones just shook his head, tracing a finger through the condensation on the glass. Between one blink and the next it refilled with golden whiskey. As he started to pick it up again, Andraeon shoved himself up from his chair and smacked it out of his hand, sending it spinning off the table to shatter on the tile floor. For the first time Jones actually showed an emotion: shock. Before Jones could move, Andraeon took his face in both hands and kissed him, tasting the whiskey on his lips and tongue. He felt Jones start in surprise, then Jones caught hold of his hips and pulled him in closer, onto his lap.
Andraeon forced himself to pull back after only a few moments, studying Jones’s face for any change. He thought he could see a hint of blue-grey in the blackness of Jones’s eyes and for the first time Jones actually seemed to be focused on him. Getting up, Andraeon coaxed him to his feet and led the way to the stairs, keeping a tight hold of Jones’s hand. He saw Jones look back once, at the glass which had reappeared whole and full on the kitchen table, but he didn’t resist when Andraeon gently caught his jaw and turned his face away.
They made their way up the stairs and Andraeon tugged Jones down the hall towards the bedroom, convinced now that it was the only way to bring Jones back. If he could just get Jones into bed here, he could bring them both back to the waking world.
They were just outside the door when Jones caught him around the waist and pinned him up against the wall, trapping his hands up over his head. He leaned in until their mouths were only inches apart but didn’t kiss Andraeon, hesitating instead and sliding his hands down to Andraeon’s shoulders. “I have to go,” he murmured, and before Andraeon could stop him, he had turned and walked away, vanishing after only a few steps.
Andraeon stared at the empty hallway for a long, numb moment, then a surge of anger went through him. He went after Jones as hard as he could, relying on instinct to tell him what to do and where to go. Jones appeared before him, walking through the fog of the between places with his head down. Picking up speed, Andraeon tackled him, knocking him flat and shoving him over before he could gather his wits. He sat his weight hard on Jones’s hips and grabbed his wrists, pinning them against the ground much as Jones had pinned him against the wall only minutes earlier.
“We are going home,” Andraeon growled. “I am not putting up with this anymore. Stop fighting me.”
Jones only looked at him, his face expressionless. He didn’t try to escape, though he had curled his fingers in against his palms and Andraeon could feel how tense his muscles were.
“You’re not even going to answer me?” Andraeon asked after a moment of silence, trying to catch and hold Jones’s gaze. “Then you can listen. This is ridiculous, Jones. You’ve spent years running away and now you’re just trying to do it again. It stops here and now. Whatever triggered this—”
“You,” Jones said quietly.
Andraeon closed his mouth with a snap and looked away. “I know,” he said after a minute ticked by in silence. “And I’m sorry.”
“You scare me.”
“I know.”
“Drae, look at me.” Reluctantly Andraeon did as he was told, startled when he saw that the blackness was almost completely gone from Jones’s eyes. “Drae, you scare the shit out of me and it makes me not want to be around you.” He offered half a smile. “Though I guess this is taking it to extremes.”
Andraeon laughed despite himself, though it was weak. “I don’t know what to do. I never want to hurt you. I just always do.”
“I know.” Jones freed a hand and reached up to cup his cheek. “I love you but I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“You don’t... we don’t have to decide now. Come home with me, Jones. Rest there and make sure Emily’s okay if nothing else. Okay?”
Jones pulled him down and kissed him lightly and briefly, a kiss Andraeon struggled not to think of as a goodbye. With the taste of whiskey still faint in his mouth, Andraeon pulled them back to the bedroom.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
The Man Who Stole The World Part Two - Chapter Nineteen
Andraeon’s sudden arrival made the hairs on the back of Shasta’s neck stand on end and sent a jolt of electricity through him, making him wince as his involuntary start pulled at his shoulder. He felt a rush of power that seemed to go straight to the bottom of his spine and saw the Kingsblack jerk away from Andraeon, but before he could see anything else, Jones suddenly collapsed. Shasta caught him awkwardly, grunting as the sudden dead weight in his arms brought them both down to the ground. Jones arched upwards, blood already running from his nose and the corner of his mouth; his eyes were still open but the blue-grey was dimmed and blank. Wrapping both arms around Jones, Shasta struggled to hold him still as he seizured, hearing his own heart hammering in his ears.
“Drae,” he screamed, “stop it! Stop it, you’re killing him!”
Andraeon looked back at them and for a moment there was nothing but a blank coldness in his features. Then his eyes widened and he stumbled towards them as the Kingsblack turned tail and fled. Shasta was reluctant to let him even touch Jones but he said nothing as Andraeon cupped Jones’s face in both hands and closed his eyes, concentrating.
Jones shuddered along the entire length of his body and slumped back against Shasta, his eyes sliding closed. Shasta watched his chest, willing it to rise, and breathed a shaky sigh of relief when it did. His breathing hitched a few times then evened out, though he remained limp and unresponsive when Andraeon called his name. Even shaking him produced no response and Andraeon gave Shasta a helpless look, his eyes dark with pain.
“We need to get out of here,” Shasta said, licking dry lips.
“I can do it,” Andraeon said, starting to push himself to his feet.
“No,” Shasta snapped, his tone sharper than he’d intended it to be, enough to make Andraeon flinch as though he’d been slapped. “I just think it’s better if you let me,” Shasta continued, forcing himself to speak gently.
“Okay.” Andraeon gently touched Jones’s cheek with two fingers and sat back on his heels, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. “To Kaede’s?”
“Yeah. Help me get him through.” Shasta carefully moved aside so Andraeon could take his spot cradling Jones’s head, and got up to open a gate. The relief that swept through him when it opened easily was enough to make his knees sag. He took a deep breath and went to take Jones’s legs, helping Andraeon to carry him through the gate and into Kaede’s living room.
In the flurry of activity that followed, Shasta found himself pushed aside and told to go sit down until he could be looked at. Feeling numb, he did as he was told, sitting down on the couch and absently cradling his injured arm against his chest as he watched Kaede and Shiki work on Jones. Eventually Kaede shook her head and sent Shiki to take him upstairs. Andraeon trailed them like a lost puppy.
“How are you, Shasta?” Kaede asked, taking his chin to turn his face away from the stairs and towards her. “You look pretty beat up.”
He mustered a smile and told her the story, stumbling over his words a little as exhaustion settled deep into his bones. Kaede stopped him when he started repeating himself, forgetting what he’d said only a few sentences before. She stroked his hair back from his forehead and he leaned into the touch, closing his eyes for a moment. It was a struggle to open them again and Kaede just told him to go to bed and they would talk further in the morning. He kissed her cheek and made his way up the stairs, moving as slowly as an old man and holding onto the banister for balance.
Shiki met him at the top and slid an arm around his waist, supporting him as they walked down to his bedroom. Shasta leaned on him gratefully, brushing a kiss over his cheek as he sank down on the bed.
“Just let me look at this and I’ll let you sleep,” Shiki said, already gently removing the bandages from Shasta’s shoulder.
“What about Jones?”
“I cleaned him up, got him into bed. Drae’s keeping an eye on him for now.” Shiki gave him half a smile, though his eyes were worried. “You’ll tell me what happened in the morning, right?”
“Yeah.” Shasta glanced at his shoulder as Shiki removed the last of the bandages. The bite mark was still red and raw, the area around it swollen, but it looked as though the injury was at least a few weeks old. Looking at it and watching Shiki gently trace what would soon be only nasty scars, Shasta realized how close he’d come to losing that shoulder completely. Leaning forward, he looped his good arm around Shiki’s neck and hugged him hard, causing Shiki to make a surprised noise before he returned the hug.
“Go to sleep, Shas.” Shiki stroked his hair back in the same manner his mother had, making Shasta smile, and replaced the bandages.
“Come to bed soon, okay?”
“Don’t want to be alone?”
“Not really.” Shasta caught his hand and kissed his knuckles. “I’ll sleep better.”
“I won’t be long.” Shiki got to his feet and headed for the door, glancing back over his shoulder. “Yell if you need anything.”
“I will.” Shasta got to his feet long enough to strip out of his dirty clothes and use the bathroom, then settled into bed, pulling the blankets up over him. He thought he might be found in his dreams, but he fell into a deep dreamless sleep as soon as he’d closed his eyes, and didn’t wake until morning.
It was still early when he opened his eyes again, though the sunlight coming in through a crack in the curtains was already strong. The house was still and silent, and Shiki slept beside him, face buried in his pillow. Shasta ran a hand over his bare shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his skin, then quietly got out of bed. Shiki stirred at the movement but only enough to roll over onto his back, flinging an arm out and breathing a deep sigh before settling back into sleep. Leaving him there, Shasta pulled on a pair of jeans and wandered out into the hallway, walking silently down to the room Andraeon shared with Jones.
He knocked on the door and waited a few moments before gently easing the door open. Andraeon was curled up asleep in the armchair by the bed, his head tipped almost onto his shoulder in a position that Shasta thought had to be uncomfortable. He had his hand in Jones’s, but Jones’s fingers were slack and though he breathed steadily, there was something about him that said he was still unconscious, not just asleep.
Shasta watched them for a few moments then quietly crossed the room and shook Andraeon awake. Andraeon came up flailing and Shasta had to duck away to avoid being smacked in the face. He bit back a laugh and waited until Andraeon was fully awake and had sat up, rubbing at his sore neck.
“Morning. You looked uncomfortable.” Shasta looked over at Jones, studying the pallor of his skin and the deep purple shadows under his eyes. “No change, I guess.”
“No.” Andraeon looked away. “I didn’t mean... to just make it worse.”
“You just didn’t think.” Shasta reached out and gave Andraeon’s shoulder a light squeeze. “It’ll be okay.” The words sounded flat and useless to his own ears but Andraeon offered him a slight smile in return.
“Thanks Shasta.” He ran both hands back through his hair then rubbed at his eyes, looking very young and very tired.
“Why don’t you go grab a shower before everyone wakes up?” Shasta said. “I’ll keep an eye on Jones, promise.”
Suspicion flashed in Andraeon’s eyes and Shasta felt a moment of irrational anger at him. He fought it down and kept his face neutral until Andraeon nodded and shoved himself up, limping out of the bedroom in the direction of the shower. Shasta took his seat and looked over at Jones, trying to find any change in his pale face. There was nothing and after a while he looked away again, unable to shake the sensation of being at a deathbed.
“You’re a pain in the ass, Jonesy,” he said, just to break the silence. “And I still want to know what your real name is. Nobody names their kid Jones Jones. I bet it’s something really embarrassing, like Humperdinck. Humperdinck Jones.” He reached over and traced the line of Jones’s cheekbone with one finger, feeling vaguely guilty about it and glancing quickly towards the door to make sure Andraeon wasn’t coming back.
When he looked back again, Elle was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him with an amused smile. He quickly snatched his hand away, feeling his cheeks go red, but he gave her a haughty look, as though silently asking what she was going to do about it.
“You know Drae’s going to kick your ass if he sees you doing that,” she said.
“I wasn’t doing anything, get off my ass.”
“Hey, I’d probably do the same thing. There’s something about scruffy men, even when they’re making you want to strangle them. Even when they’re Jones.”
“What do you want?”
“Hey, why the hostilities? I just came here to chat. Not my fault I caught you feeling up someone else’s boyfriend.”
“I was not—” Shasta took a deep breath and gave her a tight smile. “How can I help you, Elle?”
“I came to tell you to stop spinning your wheels. Time’s running out.” She tapped her wrist, though she wore no watch.
“Time for what?”
“Time in general. Why are you just letting Aloria run around like this?”
“We’ve been trying—”
“Yeah, I’ve seen your trying. How many times have I pulled one of you out of the fire? Too many, probably. Now you can’t even think for yourselves.” She got up and started pacing.
Shasta eyed her, one eyebrow slightly raised. “Why don’t you take care of Aloria? You had her, didn’t you? While we were at Edgemount.”
“Getting yourselves blown up.”
“Hey, Jones is the one who got himself blown up, him and... Lea...” Shasta trailed off, glancing guiltily at the doorway. He’d almost forgotten about Andy and now he wondered how they would break it to him. And how Emily would take the sight of her father lying so still and pale. Rallying, he added, “And you didn’t answer my question.”
“I can’t.” The words were grudging. “I can distract her and throw things—like you—in her path, but I can’t actually kill her.”
“She can’t be more powerful than you.”
“Oh please.”
“Then why not?”
She pointed a finger at him. “Drop the subject or I’ll drop you. You have to take care of her, that’s all. She’s your aunt.”
“That wasn’t my decision.”
“Just do it.” She came over to him and he flinched back, half-expecting her to hit him. Instead she leaned over and draped something on a chain around his neck. He reached up and pulled it into his field of vision, frowning when he saw it was a dog tag stamped with Jones’s name; one of the ones he’d been wearing in the hospital and which he had put in his room then forgotten about.
“Why are you giving me this? It’s not mine and I don’t think anyone’s going to believe I’m really Jones again.”
“Just wear it.” She tucked it inside his shirt and gave it a pat, then handed him the identical one on another chain. “Give that one to Andraeon. I doubt he really wants to see me right now.”
“I don’t really want to see you right now.”
“I will choose to ignore that given your current stress levels. Get going, Shasta. It’s time the hunter became the hunted.”
“Drae,” he screamed, “stop it! Stop it, you’re killing him!”
Andraeon looked back at them and for a moment there was nothing but a blank coldness in his features. Then his eyes widened and he stumbled towards them as the Kingsblack turned tail and fled. Shasta was reluctant to let him even touch Jones but he said nothing as Andraeon cupped Jones’s face in both hands and closed his eyes, concentrating.
Jones shuddered along the entire length of his body and slumped back against Shasta, his eyes sliding closed. Shasta watched his chest, willing it to rise, and breathed a shaky sigh of relief when it did. His breathing hitched a few times then evened out, though he remained limp and unresponsive when Andraeon called his name. Even shaking him produced no response and Andraeon gave Shasta a helpless look, his eyes dark with pain.
“We need to get out of here,” Shasta said, licking dry lips.
“I can do it,” Andraeon said, starting to push himself to his feet.
“No,” Shasta snapped, his tone sharper than he’d intended it to be, enough to make Andraeon flinch as though he’d been slapped. “I just think it’s better if you let me,” Shasta continued, forcing himself to speak gently.
“Okay.” Andraeon gently touched Jones’s cheek with two fingers and sat back on his heels, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. “To Kaede’s?”
“Yeah. Help me get him through.” Shasta carefully moved aside so Andraeon could take his spot cradling Jones’s head, and got up to open a gate. The relief that swept through him when it opened easily was enough to make his knees sag. He took a deep breath and went to take Jones’s legs, helping Andraeon to carry him through the gate and into Kaede’s living room.
In the flurry of activity that followed, Shasta found himself pushed aside and told to go sit down until he could be looked at. Feeling numb, he did as he was told, sitting down on the couch and absently cradling his injured arm against his chest as he watched Kaede and Shiki work on Jones. Eventually Kaede shook her head and sent Shiki to take him upstairs. Andraeon trailed them like a lost puppy.
“How are you, Shasta?” Kaede asked, taking his chin to turn his face away from the stairs and towards her. “You look pretty beat up.”
He mustered a smile and told her the story, stumbling over his words a little as exhaustion settled deep into his bones. Kaede stopped him when he started repeating himself, forgetting what he’d said only a few sentences before. She stroked his hair back from his forehead and he leaned into the touch, closing his eyes for a moment. It was a struggle to open them again and Kaede just told him to go to bed and they would talk further in the morning. He kissed her cheek and made his way up the stairs, moving as slowly as an old man and holding onto the banister for balance.
Shiki met him at the top and slid an arm around his waist, supporting him as they walked down to his bedroom. Shasta leaned on him gratefully, brushing a kiss over his cheek as he sank down on the bed.
“Just let me look at this and I’ll let you sleep,” Shiki said, already gently removing the bandages from Shasta’s shoulder.
“What about Jones?”
“I cleaned him up, got him into bed. Drae’s keeping an eye on him for now.” Shiki gave him half a smile, though his eyes were worried. “You’ll tell me what happened in the morning, right?”
“Yeah.” Shasta glanced at his shoulder as Shiki removed the last of the bandages. The bite mark was still red and raw, the area around it swollen, but it looked as though the injury was at least a few weeks old. Looking at it and watching Shiki gently trace what would soon be only nasty scars, Shasta realized how close he’d come to losing that shoulder completely. Leaning forward, he looped his good arm around Shiki’s neck and hugged him hard, causing Shiki to make a surprised noise before he returned the hug.
“Go to sleep, Shas.” Shiki stroked his hair back in the same manner his mother had, making Shasta smile, and replaced the bandages.
“Come to bed soon, okay?”
“Don’t want to be alone?”
“Not really.” Shasta caught his hand and kissed his knuckles. “I’ll sleep better.”
“I won’t be long.” Shiki got to his feet and headed for the door, glancing back over his shoulder. “Yell if you need anything.”
“I will.” Shasta got to his feet long enough to strip out of his dirty clothes and use the bathroom, then settled into bed, pulling the blankets up over him. He thought he might be found in his dreams, but he fell into a deep dreamless sleep as soon as he’d closed his eyes, and didn’t wake until morning.
It was still early when he opened his eyes again, though the sunlight coming in through a crack in the curtains was already strong. The house was still and silent, and Shiki slept beside him, face buried in his pillow. Shasta ran a hand over his bare shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his skin, then quietly got out of bed. Shiki stirred at the movement but only enough to roll over onto his back, flinging an arm out and breathing a deep sigh before settling back into sleep. Leaving him there, Shasta pulled on a pair of jeans and wandered out into the hallway, walking silently down to the room Andraeon shared with Jones.
He knocked on the door and waited a few moments before gently easing the door open. Andraeon was curled up asleep in the armchair by the bed, his head tipped almost onto his shoulder in a position that Shasta thought had to be uncomfortable. He had his hand in Jones’s, but Jones’s fingers were slack and though he breathed steadily, there was something about him that said he was still unconscious, not just asleep.
Shasta watched them for a few moments then quietly crossed the room and shook Andraeon awake. Andraeon came up flailing and Shasta had to duck away to avoid being smacked in the face. He bit back a laugh and waited until Andraeon was fully awake and had sat up, rubbing at his sore neck.
“Morning. You looked uncomfortable.” Shasta looked over at Jones, studying the pallor of his skin and the deep purple shadows under his eyes. “No change, I guess.”
“No.” Andraeon looked away. “I didn’t mean... to just make it worse.”
“You just didn’t think.” Shasta reached out and gave Andraeon’s shoulder a light squeeze. “It’ll be okay.” The words sounded flat and useless to his own ears but Andraeon offered him a slight smile in return.
“Thanks Shasta.” He ran both hands back through his hair then rubbed at his eyes, looking very young and very tired.
“Why don’t you go grab a shower before everyone wakes up?” Shasta said. “I’ll keep an eye on Jones, promise.”
Suspicion flashed in Andraeon’s eyes and Shasta felt a moment of irrational anger at him. He fought it down and kept his face neutral until Andraeon nodded and shoved himself up, limping out of the bedroom in the direction of the shower. Shasta took his seat and looked over at Jones, trying to find any change in his pale face. There was nothing and after a while he looked away again, unable to shake the sensation of being at a deathbed.
“You’re a pain in the ass, Jonesy,” he said, just to break the silence. “And I still want to know what your real name is. Nobody names their kid Jones Jones. I bet it’s something really embarrassing, like Humperdinck. Humperdinck Jones.” He reached over and traced the line of Jones’s cheekbone with one finger, feeling vaguely guilty about it and glancing quickly towards the door to make sure Andraeon wasn’t coming back.
When he looked back again, Elle was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him with an amused smile. He quickly snatched his hand away, feeling his cheeks go red, but he gave her a haughty look, as though silently asking what she was going to do about it.
“You know Drae’s going to kick your ass if he sees you doing that,” she said.
“I wasn’t doing anything, get off my ass.”
“Hey, I’d probably do the same thing. There’s something about scruffy men, even when they’re making you want to strangle them. Even when they’re Jones.”
“What do you want?”
“Hey, why the hostilities? I just came here to chat. Not my fault I caught you feeling up someone else’s boyfriend.”
“I was not—” Shasta took a deep breath and gave her a tight smile. “How can I help you, Elle?”
“I came to tell you to stop spinning your wheels. Time’s running out.” She tapped her wrist, though she wore no watch.
“Time for what?”
“Time in general. Why are you just letting Aloria run around like this?”
“We’ve been trying—”
“Yeah, I’ve seen your trying. How many times have I pulled one of you out of the fire? Too many, probably. Now you can’t even think for yourselves.” She got up and started pacing.
Shasta eyed her, one eyebrow slightly raised. “Why don’t you take care of Aloria? You had her, didn’t you? While we were at Edgemount.”
“Getting yourselves blown up.”
“Hey, Jones is the one who got himself blown up, him and... Lea...” Shasta trailed off, glancing guiltily at the doorway. He’d almost forgotten about Andy and now he wondered how they would break it to him. And how Emily would take the sight of her father lying so still and pale. Rallying, he added, “And you didn’t answer my question.”
“I can’t.” The words were grudging. “I can distract her and throw things—like you—in her path, but I can’t actually kill her.”
“She can’t be more powerful than you.”
“Oh please.”
“Then why not?”
She pointed a finger at him. “Drop the subject or I’ll drop you. You have to take care of her, that’s all. She’s your aunt.”
“That wasn’t my decision.”
“Just do it.” She came over to him and he flinched back, half-expecting her to hit him. Instead she leaned over and draped something on a chain around his neck. He reached up and pulled it into his field of vision, frowning when he saw it was a dog tag stamped with Jones’s name; one of the ones he’d been wearing in the hospital and which he had put in his room then forgotten about.
“Why are you giving me this? It’s not mine and I don’t think anyone’s going to believe I’m really Jones again.”
“Just wear it.” She tucked it inside his shirt and gave it a pat, then handed him the identical one on another chain. “Give that one to Andraeon. I doubt he really wants to see me right now.”
“I don’t really want to see you right now.”
“I will choose to ignore that given your current stress levels. Get going, Shasta. It’s time the hunter became the hunted.”
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