Chapter Twelve #2
Vale held him. He didn’t know what else to do or if there was anything he could do. They both needed more help than Vale could provide, but at least they were together.
“She shot you,” Cyril muttered.
“She did, but I’m fine,” Vale promised. “I lost some blood, and I’m in pain, but I’ll survive.”
Cyril looked down. “She hurt Oscar, too.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Vale wanted to say that maybe Cyril could create a new pet once he was feeling better, but he didn’t.
It would never be the same, even for Vale.
As weird as he’d found Oscar, he’d also been endeared by the pet.
He’d liked Oscar, and he’d always be grateful for what Oscar had done for Cyril.
Cyril shook his head. “I’m not letting her win.”
Vale had no idea what that meant until he noticed one of Oscar’s tentacles twitch. Cyril was completely focused on his pet, and Vale had no doubt that he was the one causing it.
Cyril was pushing his power into Oscar and trying to reanimate him again.
“I know you care about Oscar, but you’re weak,” he said, even though he knew he wouldn’t change Cyril’s mind.
Cyril ignored him. He had an intense look of concentration on his face, and it was like nothing else existed.
Maybe to him, nothing did. He wanted Oscar back, and he was determined to achieve that.
If he’d been anyone else, Vale would’ve been impressed, but right now, he couldn’t feel anything but worry for Cyril.
Cyril started shaking. Vale hugged him tighter, but he couldn’t stop Cyril unless he knocked him unconscious, and that wasn’t something he was willing to do. That meant he’d have to convince Cyril to stop, and he didn’t think he could do that.
Oscar suddenly perked up. He curled his tentacles and reached one of them toward Cyril’s cheek. Vale saw Cyril smile, and more blood dripped from his nose.
That was when Cyril collapsed.
* * * *
CYRIL HAD DONE IT. He’d reanimate Oscar.
He could feel Oscar moving against his chest, but his eyes had slid closed, so he couldn’t see him.
His arms dropped, and Oscar jumped out of them.
Cyril wanted to ask him to come back, but he didn’t have the energy to do it.
He didn’t think he even had the energy to stay upright.
The only reason he was able to was because Vale was holding him up.
He took a deep breath and snuggled closer.
He was safe. He was with Vale, and Helena was dead.
Vale and everyone Cyril cared about were safe, which was all Cyril had wanted.
He hated the way he’d obtained that, but he also didn’t regret it.
Helena had wanted to play with fire, and she’d paid for it.
Cyril heard people speak around him. He wasn’t sure he was fully conscious, and he didn’t think it mattered.
He couldn’t speak or move. He could hear the people around him, but he had to focus to understand what they were saying, and he was too tired to do that.
He allowed them to move him, and when he tried to cling to Vale when they pulled him away from his boyfriend, he couldn’t.
That was okay. He wasn’t afraid, and he knew that Vale needed medical help. He was sure that Rachel and Russell would take care of him.
Just like Vale would take care of him as soon as he could.
Cyril sighed. They’d done it. He could go to sleep without worrying that someone would hurt Vale.
So he did.
*
FOR A MOMENT, WHEN he woke up, Cyril wasn’t sure where he was. He blinked at the wall, but his vision was slightly cloudy, so he reached up and rubbed his eyes. When he dropped his hands, he finally recognized his bedroom and jerked into a sitting position, frantically looking around.
He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten back to his apartment, let alone into his bed. The last thing he remembered was being on the ground in the cemetery with blood dripping from his nose.
He reached up, but his fingers came back clean after he rubbed at his nose. He wasn’t wearing the clothes he’d been wearing earlier, either. These were blood-free and soft and familiar.
A clicking sound made him smile. Oscar was cuddled against him, and Cyril reached for him, eager to ensure that he was okay. He grabbed his pet, only to blink and cock his head.
“What the hell happened to you?” he asked.
He’d been the one to create Oscar. He knew every part of Oscar’s body and how they fit together. Oscar was made of bones and a necromancer’s power, so he didn’t age or grow.
Or at least, he wasn’t supposed to grow.
He definitely had, though. His tentacles were longer and thicker.
He felt sturdier under Cyril’s hands. Cyril had no idea how that had happened because it was impossible.
He remembered putting Oscar back together and pushing his ability inside of his pet, but the bones he’d used were the same bones he’d used when he’d created him.
He’d just been putting Oscar’s body back together, not creating a new one.
So why was Oscar so different? He had more tentacles. Where the fuck had Cyril taken the bones to create them?
As alarmed as Cyril was about Oscar’s condition, Oscar didn’t seem to care.
He cuddled close to Cyril’s chest, and Cyril could’ve sworn his pet was relieved.
He’d never been sure whether or not Oscar felt emotions.
He knew that Oscar cared about him, or at least it looked like he did, but it shouldn’t be possible.
Cyril had always put it on his necromancer’s ability, but now, he was sure he could feel what Oscar was feeling.
What the fuck was happening to both of them?
The creak of the bedroom door opening made him turn.
The first thing he saw was Vale’s back and butt because Vale was stepping into the room backward.
Cyril understood why when he saw that his boyfriend was carrying a tray with one hand.
The other hand was unavailable since that arm was pinned against his chest.
Cyril gently pushed Oscar down and wrestled with the blankets so he could get out of bed. Vale’s eyes widened when he saw that Cyril was awake, and he shook his head.
“Stay in bed,” he ordered.
“You’re going to drop the tray.”
“I’m not. Just stay still and keep an eye on Oscar.”
“What happened to him?”
Vale walked around the bed and put the tray down on Cyril’s nightstand. He took a second to make sure that everything was steady before sitting on the edge of the mattress and turning to Cyril. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. What happened to Oscar? For that matter, what happened to Helena and the others? I don’t remember anything after reanimating Oscar.”
Vale shook his head. “I don’t know what you did or how you did it, but you were able to reanimate him. I should’ve known you could do it. You’re the best necromancer I’ve ever met.”
“It shouldn’t have been possible. I mean, I should’ve been able to reanimate him, but he’s different.”
Vale turned his attention to Oscar, who was dragging the blankets around his body with his many tentacles as if making a nest. “I think you drew from the bones of the people buried in the cemetery.”
Cyril grimaced. “That makes sense. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You shouldn’t have been able to do what you did, Cyril. I’ve never seen anything like that. I thought you had to touch the deceased to reanimate them. It wasn’t only the reanimation, either. How did you convince so many of them to help?”
Cyril huddled in on himself. He still felt weak, and he suspected he was going to feel that way for a few days, but he also felt guilty.
“I didn’t convince them. I gave them a push toward what I wanted, and they did it.
I shouldn’t have used them that way, though.
It goes against everything I’ve ever believed in. ”
“I don’t think most of them minded. You were desperate to save the people you love.
Anyone would’ve done what you did. I’m sure they understood.
Besides, you said you didn’t convince them but rather gave them a push.
That doesn’t sound like you forced them to do anything.
It feels more like you communicated what you needed, and they decided to help. ”
Vale might be right, just like he might be wrong. Cyril couldn’t obsess over it. There were other things he needed to focus on, like how the fuck he’d managed to do what he’d done.
His ability had always been strong, but even then, the only thing he’d ever been able to do was reanimate dead people.
It allowed them to have a conversation with their loved ones, and not much else.
He hadn’t needed anything else from them.
He certainly hadn’t needed to awaken an entire cemetery of bodies to help him.
But that was exactly what he’d done. He didn’t know how, but he had, and he needed to find out more about it. He couldn’t afford to bury his head in the sand when he knew that what he was capable of could help people and maybe save his family again if they ever needed it.
Knowing Vale, Helena wasn’t the last person who would come after them. Cyril would need to be ready to protect Vale, and that meant finding out what was happening to his ability and how he could use it.
“What happened at the cemetery? After I reanimated Oscar, I mean,” he asked.
“Someone called the authorities. We ran out of there, leaving everyone behind. Helena wasn’t looking good, and I saw the body of one of their team members, but I didn’t see the other two. They might have managed to escape.”
“What about the people resting in the cemetery?”
Vale grimaced. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to get a call from the cemetery. They’ll need help to get everyone back where they belong.”
Cyril sighed. They would need help, and who better to ask than him?
Even though they didn’t know he’d been the person who’d caused it, they knew he was the best and that he could return everyone to their resting place.
He’d do it pro bono because he doubted the cemetery could afford to pay him what it would normally take to hire him for this kind of job.
It was the least he could do after the people buried there had helped him save Vale.