Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
GOOD AUGUST
SLIPPERY WHEN WET
We crash down in a tangle of arms and legs and bodies, falling over in impenetrable black. I’m flung backwards, landing hard against a wall. “Shit!”
“August?” What sounds like glass bottles almost being knocked to the floor drowns him out.
“I’m here.” I fling out a hand, meeting nothing but air.
“Thank god. Where are you? Did we all make it?”
“I’m here.” Shashi’s voice. “Amber?”
“Yep,” she calls back. “I’ve got Jon.”
“August Three?” my August asks.
“You know, in my mind, he’s actually August Three,” he mutters.
“That’s fascinating. Slayer, where are you?”
I grope my way up the wall to standing, reach out a hand in the direction of his voice, and at the touch of his fingertips, sighs of relief escape both of us. He pulls me across, and his lips meet mine, exactly where they need to be, for now and forever.
Everyone else struggles to their feet, hands sliding over walls, bodies bumping into furniture, as we all try to figure out where we are.
Finally, someone finds a door handle, flings the door open, and a sliver of pale light reveals that we’re in the same room in the pub we got a short look at before we crossed over.
The first of the group are tentative to step out, but we all soon grow more confident. The place is locked up tight, with us inside. Moonlight filters in through the large translucent glass windows, dying embers in the fireplace casting the grand room in a friendly glow.
Shashi takes it all in, then turns back to me with a painfully fake smile. “Could you please warn us next time you’re going to do that?”
Okay, maybe that’s fair. A bit. We did almost obliterate them from existence. But still the small words bubble up, “No. Not really.”
She sighs, taking the answer for what it is. Thankfully. Instead of arguing about my sex life, she goes to the window to try to see through the milky glass. “Augusts, is this modern London or old London?”
“Oh, shit,” says my August.
“What ‘oh shit?’” she asks.
But Assassin August takes up the answer. “We skipped in the past. We’re all almost definitely stuck in the past.”
The mask of horror that takes Shashi’s face is only outdone by her immediate splutter of, “No, no, no! Nope. No, I’m not being stuck in Victorian London.
It was nice for a night, but that’s more than enough for me.
I’ll die here. I’ll have to turn to prostitution within the week.
I’ll die of syphilis before the year’s out! ”
“I think they quite liked me,” Jon reflects. “If I could get a guitar—”
“And worse than that,” Amber cuts in, “I’m pretty sure they won’t have a particle accelerator here.”
“Shit,” August hisses out. “Shit, shit!”
“It’s okay,” I lie, trying my best to get things back to a nice post-sex glow. “The slip will end. Right, August? Wait. Are we in a slip? Or did we slip out of the slip, or now we have to unslip?”
“I have no idea,” he mumbles, turning me on with his own slip of a finger, pushing his glasses back in place.
I pursue, “What happens if we slip into a slip when we’re in a slip?”
“August, why would you ask me that?” he wails. “I have literally no idea.”
Poor August. He’s stressed. I’d better kiss him. “It’s an interesting thought, though, isn’t it?”
His lips press back against mine sweetly. “Yeah. In theory.”
I love how he always manages a smile for me.
“Not in reality,” Shashi argues, ruining the smile I just got. “In reality, we have worlds to save. Specifically, my world, my job, my flat, all my things. I am not going to fare well in Victorian London. Now, get us out of here. Please fuck, or do whatever you need to do. We’ll wait here.”
“That’s a great idea.” Jon slams a happy hand down on the bar. “But not in the closet.”
“Yeah,” Amber laughs, making her way around the other side of the bar. “Come out of the closet, Augusts.”
They all cackle at the poor joke. I’m dying. Truly. And thankful to August, who says quietly and sarcastically, “I might just need a few seconds to recharge before we destroy another universe, if that’s alright with everyone.”
“Ugh,” Shashi grunts out. “Men’s bodies are ridiculous. Amber and I would have that rift open ten times over in the space of half an hour.”
“Yeah, we would,” Amber agrees, eyes hot on Shashi as she pulls a frothy pint.
Jon interrupts. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. What if we were to find the Jon in this world, and I could see if he wanted to—”
“No!” all three Augusts snap, but it’s the third one who pulls the most attention.
“I-I think we’re in deep enough, don’t you?” he stutters, blushing. “Maybe we’ll just stick to these Augusts fucking while we figure this out.”
Great. That’s great. His not-at-all-subtle attempt to redirect their attention onto me worked. “Do any of you realise we’re right here when you say things like that?”
Amber pushes a tankard of beer towards me. “It’s not our fault you’re sex accelerators.”
I smash my head into August’s chest to hide my face, but still can’t avoid hearing Jon’s, “That’s a great name for a band, actually. Sex Accelerator.”
August sinks his fingers into my hair to hold me in as much peace as either of us are likely to get for some time, but I can feel the chuckle in his chest, even as he makes his voice serious.
“Alright, we need a plan. We can go for a walk and hope we come out of this slip on the way, since that’s how we came out of it last time.
Or we can sleep here tonight, and I guess, before they open tomorrow, um… try to open another portal.”
“‘Open another portal.’” My head tips up. “You too?”
He raises his pretty eyebrows. “Shall we try the walk first?”
I give him a small nod before sinking my face back against his chest.
“Can we take beers?” Amber asks sweetly, and a little too excitedly.
“Yeah,” says August. “And any cash you can find. Grab anything we can sell. We might be stuck in this time for a while, so best be prepared.”
Sounds fair. A few drinks, a blowjob in the closet, then endless sex in Victorian London.
Not the way I saw my life playing out, but it could be worse, surely.