Five to Love Him (Phoenix Immortal: Hive #1)

19. LEOPOLD

nineteen

I let the massage and feeding go on for longer than I probably should have, but the hiveling across from me looked downright giddy, his smile brightening whenever I ate another piece of cake.

“Should we get you another slice?” he—they asked when I was done with the first one.

I shook my head. “No. And I should figure out if there’s anything that needs doing here. Other than that contract, but I’ll tackle that tomorrow. Today was long.”

My shoulders were squeezed while the hivelings in my field of vision nodded.

“Yes. We should go home. To your house.”

They sounded ridiculously eager when they said the last bit as if I were the catch I knew I wasn’t. As a result, there was a tiny little part of me that wondered what would happen if they were to find out, if they realized that I was, well, me. With no life achievements to my name, other than maybe gardening.

“Yeah,” I said and cleared my throat. “Do you need to stop by your place and grab some of your stuff?”

There was generalized head shaking. “We can do that after our shift. Unless you want to go and see our place? It’s in the underground, and we worry you won’t be comfortable there.”

I opened my mouth to say going directly to mine was fine, but then I snapped it shut.

The underground. My first trip there had gotten me suddenly mated, sure, but at the same time, the underground was fascinating and unlike anything I’d ever seen, a second world right beneath our noses taken straight out of a fantasy story. I felt a little giddiness myself at the thought of going back there.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind seeing where you live. Besides, the underground is amazing, and I could explore more.”

The hivelings nodded. “Then we’ll take you. But not too much exploring. You need rest. And something more than cake to eat.”

I chuckled. “You sound like a mother hen.”

The one who’d been giving me the massage leaned forward. “A mother hive if anything, Leo.”

***

We made our way back, walking the darkened hallways of St. Auguste. The hive was carrying all of my stuff, including the school rules Headprincipal Farrow wanted me to memorize. They were also holding my hand, and whenever I caught their profile or they looked at me, they seemed happy.

“The school is very big,” they said.

I nodded. “Yeah. When they first told me to go here—I was taken to an office building in the city after my tentacle encounter, Hawthorne central, I guess—I got lost, or I thought I got lost. I ran into Instructor Arick, and yeah. I stared at his second head, totally rude, but he took it in stride.”

“Chimerae don’t have a lot of interactions with humans not in the know.”

“Right. When I started—really early on—and when I learned about how many types of supernaturals there are, I felt bad about that. It’s unfair that those who can’t really pass for human have to hide out of fear. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the underground is the coolest place, at least what I’ve seen of it, but you should be able to go where you want to go, do what you want to do, just like anyone else. And what if you have a second head? There’s really nothing wrong with that.”

Arms came around me. “You are kind. This city and the entire area are a very good place to live, even if it’s in the underground. Hawthorne has done a lot to make life good, better than in other places. We’ve never had to hide, not like chimerae or others, but we’ve heard the stories of loneliness and pain. There is less of that here.”

I looked at the floor, smooth and clean in this newer part of the building where the hallways widened and the echoes haunted us.

“Do you think supernaturals will ever come out to people as a whole? Honestly, I can’t believe this hasn’t happened yet. It’s like how there used to be white dots on maps, but these days, no one thinks there are great big unknowns out there, and yet, werewolves exist.”

“We don’t know.” “We’d be worried for safety, for your safety, but also for others.” “What if the werewolf children did run along a jogging path and were hunted for it?”

I sighed. This was what Instructor Arick had told the class on more than one occasion, and it was what the Hawthorne people had impressed upon me.

“I don’t want to argue. I don’t think I have the right to. I just want you guys to be happy, you know. To be able to go where you want to go, live like you want to live.”

The hive stopped me. They wrapped me in their arms, hugging me closely, but also being careful not to tighten their hold.

“You are so kind. We don’t know what to do with your kindness. There’s so much of it.”

It was sweet of them to think that, and I lifted my arm to pat one of them. “Oh, come on. You’re being a little dramatic. Tate would totally agree with me, except he’d want legislation to protect the oceans for all those who live there.”

“We’re not dramatic, we’re happy.” “And legislation that protects the oceans would ensure the orca shifters stop going after yachts. Probably.”

They loosened their hold, and I looked at one of them with wide eyes.

“You’re pulling my leg here, right? Orca shifters?”

I saw two of them shrug. “Yes. They are…an acquired taste, we find.” “Should we keep going?”

I nodded, and we headed toward the end of the hallway, then left until we came to the arrival and departure area, the screens there still bright.

“Look,” one of the hivelings said and pointed.

“Ugh, fuck. Where did they get that photo?”

A special announcement was up, introducing “Head Secretary Hill” with a photo of me. The announcement was quick, letting everyone know to please congratulate me and make me feel welcome.

“It’s a good photo,” one of the hivelings said. “We like you in photos, although we think you are even more attractive IRL.”

I snorted as we stepped on the escalator. “Thanks for the compliment. Anyway, I’m just going to be doing admin stuff. The headprincipal is blowing this out of proportion.”

“You’ll be good at it.” “And we can help.” “We can help with learning the school rules as well.”

“Don’t remind me.”

We were silent for the way down the escalator, the electric hum of it accompanying us as the lights changed, turned brighter and warmer, all while the temperature dropped.

“Bet you don’t sweat buckets down here, not even in this heat.”

“No. Although it does get very cold in winter.”

I nodded, and once we arrived in the underground proper, let the hive lead me. I remembered the way Ezra had taken us, toward a busier, brighter part of the underground.

The hive took another turn right off the bat, and instead of increasing foot traffic, this area was quiet, almost like a pier by the ocean at night, what with the boardwalk underneath our feet.

Benches and trash cans sat on the sides of the walk, and we passed one of those electronic mailboxes that hold your online deliveries, not with a retailer logo but rather with Hawthorne written across it in large, flashy print.

“Wow,” I said.

One or two hivelings chuckled. “It’s picked up above and then taken down here. Everyone shops over the internet.”

“Nice. We haven’t talked about the postal network yet.”

“It’s good. Maybe even more reliable than the one the humans run.”

Around another bend in the boardwalk, the residential area really started. Down here in the underground, there was only so much room to build a house, given that these were subway tunnels. When I’d first heard about the underground, I’d expected something out of a post-apocalyptic movie franchise, seedy and gray, but the buildings we walked past were nothing like that.

The streetlamps charmed with a 1920s flair, the fixtures swirling and the light they cast bright even though I was sure it would be even brighter still once day came rolling around. The buildings themselves were almost futuristic but not that impersonal. Clean facades came with windows of varying sizes and shapes, same with the doors.

The buildings were set one next to another, but you could tell where one ended and a new one started because the residents had personalized things, had either painted the walls in different shades of beige or yellow or put up flowers and yard decorations right outside the buildings or on the windowsills, working with what space they could. There was even a row of houses in shades of blue, and one standing out in a deep, shiny red.

“That one will be privately owned,” the hive said, indicating the red house. “Hawthorne specifies bright facade colors in their contracts, nothing too dark.”

“Right. To keep the place from looking foreboding or like a monster lair out of human myth.”

“Yes. Is it working?”

The hive sounded anxious, which was adorable, given that I knew I was staring at what had to be normal for them.

“It is.”

“We’re glad. We’re over there, at the end of Silver Line.”

“Okay, lead the way,” I said and tore my eyes from the houses and the display of artificial flowers some featured in flower boxes hung on the windowsills.

The hive picked up the pace. It was only a few minutes before we got to a house at the very end of a long line of them.

“What’s there?” I asked, pointing to where the boardwalk wound on before dropping steeply into the darkness.

“It’s an exit. It takes you above ground. This one isn’t used a lot, and it’s very quiet here.”

“Ah.”

I followed them to the door where they stopped and caught my eye.

“The code is 16022.” They pointed at the number panel on the door.

“No key?”

They shook their heads. “No. This is more convenient. You are welcome to come here whenever you want.” “Think of it as your home. We know it’s small, but we hope you can be comfortable.”

They punched in the code and opened the door, then hit the light switch for me.

Small was an understatement. Right across from the door, a narrow ladder led to a second level, and with one step, I was in what looked like the dining room, if you could call it that. It was just a table, small, with three chairs somehow fitting around it, then a low wall, and behind that, I could see kitchen cabinets.

“The bathroom is behind the kitchen,” one of the hivelings said as they gently nudged me forward so they could close the door behind me. One of them went up the stairs, up the ladder, while another headed toward the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink? Or a snack?”

I shook my head. “Wouldn’t want to ruin my appetite for dinner. You live in here with five? I think I can almost touch both walls while standing in the middle of the room.”

“You don’t like it,” one of them said.

Their face, all their faces, fell, and that gutted me.

I walked past the table and chairs to the one in the kitchen. I knew I had a comfort zone, a tiny one, but I figured it was fine, stretching it a little. I stood behind him and wrapped my arms around his middle.

“That’s not it. I’m just not used to it. And I’m surprised, that’s all. What kind of snacks do you have?”

They relaxed against me. “You don’t have to say that. We know. We just—this is very comfortable for us. We want you to be comfortable too. We know a singular wouldn’t be able to live here as easily as us.”

I put my head on his shoulder. It was a little awkward because they were taller, and I wasn’t sure whether this was okay, whether I was being a halfway decent mate.

“The house is way bigger. Are you sure you’re okay there?”

“Yes,” all of them said.

The one I wasn’t hugging opened the fridge. “We have baby carrots for a snack.”

And that made me tighten my hold on them which in turn had them let out a long sigh.

“My grandma would always make me baby carrots. She’d put them in my lunch, but I think there was barely an afternoon when I didn’t get them as a snack with all-natural peanut butter and apple slices.” Tears stung the corners of my eyes, and I let go, stepped back. “Fuck. I haven’t thought about that in a long time. I’m sorry.”

The hive turned, just the one of them, and returned my hug.

“Don’t be. Grief is a normal thing. It’s like a scar that’s made of memories.”

I wiped at my eyes, turned my head away, then buried it in their shoulder, their height now making it easier.

“I just miss her. Sometimes, I forget how much I miss her.”

They didn’t respond, just held me, their hands stroking my back in the most soothing way.