Chapter Four
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CYRIL WAS AVOIDING Vale. It wouldn’t have been obvious to anyone who didn’t know him since the two of them shared an apartment, but it was obvious to Vale.
Things had been that way since they’d woken up—hell, they’d been like that since Cyril had his nightmare last night.
Vale had wanted to comfort him, but Cyril had pushed him away using Oscar as an excuse.
Vale had let it go because it had been the middle of the night and he’d understood that Cyril was still shaken.
Oscar also hadn’t been behaving normally, which had added to Cyril’s stress, but now that Vale was sure something was up with his boyfriend, he felt like the situation was slipping out of his control.
He looked at Cyril, who was at the stove cooking breakfast. When Vale had tried to kiss him good morning earlier, Cyril had turned his head so that Vale’s lips had landed on his cheek.
When Vale had tried to pull Cyril into his arms, Cyril had used the excuse of breakfast to slip out of the bedroom.
Vale didn’t know what he was supposed to do. There was something wrong with Cyril, but if he didn’t want to talk to Vale, how was Vale supposed to help him? How was he supposed to fix what he’d broken?
Because he was sure that whatever had happened with Cyril had to do with him. There was no other reason for Cyril to avoid even looking his way. Vale suspected it had to do with him not yet telling Cyril about the Organization, but Cyril’s reaction seemed like an overreaction.
Maybe Vale was making this all about himself when it wasn’t.
Maybe after whatever Cyril had seen last night in his dream, he needed some space.
If he was living the moment people died, it couldn’t be easy to deal with.
He was a necromancer, but his gift had never been like that.
He’d never had to relive someone’s death and be in their body when it happened.
Vale hated feeling useless. He wanted to help, but without knowing what was going on and what he could do, there was no way for him to.
If Cyril didn’t tell him anything, he’d eventually ask, but for now, maybe it was better to give Cyril some space.
He might need time to wrap his mind around whatever dream he’d had last night.
They’d have to talk about it because they had to talk about how his ability was changing, but it didn’t have to happen now.
Even though Vale wished it did. He hated not knowing.
“What did you do to him?” John asked in a whisper.
Vale glared at him. “Who said I did anything?”
“Well, look at him. He’s not even looking your way.”
From the rigid line of Cyril’s back, Vale was pretty sure that he could hear what John was saying. He didn’t know if John didn’t realize it or if he didn’t care, but he didn’t like it. He didn’t like making Cyril feel awkward.
Vale grabbed John’s arm and pulled him out of his chair in front of the kitchen table.
John yelled, but Vale wasn’t holding his wounded arm, so he didn’t slow down.
He pulled John out of the kitchen, ignoring his protests.
He didn’t really care what John wanted. He only cared what Cyril wanted, and right now, he looked like he wanted to be alone.
“What did you do that for?” John complained when Vale let him go.
“You were making Cyril uncomfortable.”
“He didn’t say anything.”
“You opened your big mouth, and that was enough. Sit down.”
John frowned. “What are you going to do to me?”
Vale was tempted to strangle him, but unfortunately, Cyril liked the guy. Vale didn’t understand why, but the why didn’t matter. It didn’t change the fact that Cyril had insisted on John sleeping on their couch while he healed.
Vale could wait until he finally did.
“Let me see your wounds,” he ordered as he turned to grab the first aid kit that Cyril had left on the coffee table.
“I don’t know if I want you to see my wounds,” John grumbled, but he obeyed, so Vale didn’t say anything. He didn’t care what John thought of him or his orders. He just cared that he did as asked.
John unbuttoned his borrowed shirt—it was easier for him to pull a shirt on and off than a t-shirt would be—and pulled it open so that Vale could see the wounds. Well, he could see the gauze. He’d have to peel it off to see what was underneath.
He took out what he’d need from the first aid kit and set to do just that. He didn’t say anything, and thankfully, John kept his mouth shut, at least initially. Vale knew it wouldn’t last, though. It wasn’t the kind of person John was.
“Seriously, what did you do to Cyril?” John asked as Vale was dabbing disinfectant on the cuts on his chest.
Vale’s next jab was harder than necessary, but he ignored John’s yelp of pain.
“I don’t know if you two are fighting, but you shouldn’t take it out on me,” John continued. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You’re talking.”
“So? Is it forbidden?”
“For you, it is.”
John pouted. “I’m not feeling the love. Maybe I should go back to the kitchen and talk to Cyril.”
“Maybe you want to die.”
“I definitely don’t. If I did, I wouldn’t be here, asking for your help.”
“You’re not here because you asked for my help.”
He’d come to warn Vale, and Vale was grateful, but at the same time, he wished Cyril had never found out about the Organization.
So far, Vale had gotten out of telling him what he’d done for them, but he wouldn’t be able to avoid that conversation for much longer.
Cyril wanted and deserved answers, and the only person who could give them to him was Vale.
It wasn’t fair to continue keeping things from him, even though Vale was terrified of how he’d take the news.
Maybe it would be better to just tell him and see what happened?
Wasting time wasn’t helping, anyway. Nothing would help except to be honest with Cyril, and when he was, Vale might lose him.
He hated the situation. He hated the Organization. He kind of hated John, too, although he wasn’t going to tell him that. It would’ve been easy for John to tell the people who’d hurt him where to find Vale, but he hadn’t. He’d protected him and Cyril.
“Maybe not,” John murmured. “But you and Cyril helped me, even though I didn’t ask for it. That means something to me.”
“Does it?”
“It would’ve been easy to leave me outside. I would’ve survived, but I would’ve been in a worse shape than I am now. I’m grateful for the two of you taking me in when you didn’t have to.”
“You protected Cyril.”
“By not giving them your position? I guess I did.”
“That means a lot to me, even though you’re annoying.”
John burst out laughing. “Good to know that you’re still the same charming man.”
“I’m not charming.”
“No, I suppose you’re not.”
“You kept Cyril safe. That’s all that matters to me.” Especially when it looked like Vale wouldn’t be able to keep him safe from whatever was happening with his ability.
Neither of them had any idea what that was, which meant that Vale couldn’t come up with a plan to protect his boyfriend. Hell, right now, he was the one hurting Cyril. He knew how to stop doing that, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
He would have to, eventually.
* * * *
CYRIL KEPT AN EYE ON what was happening in the living room, just in case. He didn’t think Vale would hurt John, but how could he be sure? How could he be sure of anything when it came to Vale anymore?
He couldn’t forget the nightmare he’d seen last night. He hadn’t been able to get back to sleep, but Vale had, and Cyril had listened to him breathe as the hours ticked by. He was exhausted, which wasn’t helping his confusion and pain. He needed answers, but would Vale give them to him?
He hadn’t yet, even though Cyril had told him that he wanted to talk. Vale had been avoiding him, and now, it was Cyril’s turn to avoid Vale. As much as he wanted to know what Vale was hiding, he was also terrified to find out. He didn’t want it to change the way he viewed Vale.
Except that it already had.
Cyril didn’t know exactly what had happened between Vale and the Organization, but the fact that he wasn’t sure if he could trust his boyfriend meant that he was seeing him in a different light.
He might not like it, but he couldn’t deny it.
The nightmare had made it worse because now, when he looked at Vale, all he could see was him aiming a gun at an innocent girl.
What was Cyril supposed to do?
He felt like he didn’t know Vale anymore.
He’d thought Vale had been honest with him since he’d told him about his job and the people he killed, but clearly, he’d been wrong.
Vale had been hiding more things than he’d told Cyril about, and now, Cyril was finding out.
Maybe he’d never truly known Vale. Maybe Vale had lied.
Maybe Cyril should’ve realized that when a professional assassin had told him that he didn’t kill innocent people.
Wasn’t that what professional assassins did?
Cyril had stuck his head in the sand because he wanted to be with Vale, but he couldn’t do so anymore. He couldn’t ignore the signs that pointed to Vale killing Melissa.
A movement next to him made him jump. He jerked away, turning and ready to defend himself, only to find Vale standing there with both hands raised.
He was watching Cyril in a way that told Cyril that his boyfriend knew something was up.
Hopefully, he’d think Cyril was still jumpy over the nightmare.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Vale said.
“You didn’t. I was just lost in my thoughts and was startled.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” It was a lie. Cyril was anything but fine, and he suspected that Vale knew it. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything. He probably would, eventually, but if Vale didn’t want to talk about his past with the Organization, surely it was okay for Cyril to not want to talk about his nightmares?
He hated this. He and Vale were supposed to support each other.
They should be telling each other what was happening so they could work together and find a solution.
Instead, Cyril was jumpy and felt like this relationship was slipping out of his hands.
He didn’t know how to keep it there. He didn’t know how to trust Vale again or if he could trust him.
He didn’t know anything for sure right now, and it made him want to scream.
He didn’t. Instead, he gave Vale a tight smile and turned back to the eggs on the stove so he wouldn’t burn them.
From the corner of his eye, he could see Oscar hovering around as if ready to defend him.
He still didn’t understand why his pet was behaving the way he was, but maybe he was reacting to Cyril being so jumpy with Vale. Maybe it was Cyril’s fault.
The problem was that Cyril wasn’t sure how to fix any of this.
Even if he and Vale talked, what were the odds that he was wrong and that Vale hadn’t killed Melissa?
Vale was hiding something, and Cyril had seen what that something was in his nightmare.
Even if Vale told him, would it change anything?
Would Cyril be able to trust his boyfriend again, or was their relationship too damaged now?
Cyril didn’t know. He didn’t know how to find out, either.
The only way would be to talk to Vale, but Cyril was terrified.
Where did that leave him? What was he supposed to do next?
He couldn’t talk to Vale. He didn’t think Vale would hurt him, but he just couldn’t. That meant that he’d have to come up with another way to find out what had happened to Melissa.
She was dead, so normally, there would be no talking to her. This situation was anything but normal, though. Cyril wasn’t just a guy. He was a necromancer, and who better than him to talk to a dead woman?