Chapter 12
TWELVE
I may have expected that Mine wouldn’t believe me, but I never realized how annoyed I would be by it. Without my powers, there isn’t much I can do to prove it.
Nothing except what I’m about to do now.
It’s past one at night. Although the base is fairly quiet, there are still some parties going on in a few tents.
Mine follows by my side as we head to the secluded field a distance away from the military base where I last summoned my brother.
Another summon will not make me his favorite person, that is for sure.
“Why are there parties at this time of the night? Shouldn’t the soldiers rest?” I ask as we pass by a lit tent teeming with rowdy people.
“Wouldn’t you want to have a good time if tomorrow might be your last day alive?” Mine counters.
“I suppose so,” I answer tentatively. I’ve never given that any thought, seeing as how my kind doesn’t really die. Given the low chances of that happening, especially in battle with much weaker demons, I’ve never had to worry about my last moments alive.
Yet now that I think about it… What would I do? If I were to die tomorrow, what would I do on my last day alive?
“What about you, then? Why are you not at those parties?”
Instead, he’s out here with me, chasing some supernatural ethos.
He shrugs. The movement makes his arms move, and his hand slides past mine. The smallest touch occurs as his knuckles brush across mine.
I bite my lip to stop a gasp from erupting into the night.
Mine appears unaffected as he continues on.
“I am not led by the same uncertainty they are.”
“I don’t understand.” I frown.
“Their fear of death revolves around the fact that it is the end—that everything they know and cherish will be taken from them.”
“That is the definition of death,” I agree.
He smiles.
“Sometimes, death is just the beginning, tiny darling.” He winks at me.
“No. Not really,” I tell him resolutely. “That is not how it works.”
He raises a languid brow at me.
“When mortals die, their soul is judged by a Death deity and depending on the merit accrued during a lifetime, they get assigned to different levels of the House of Psyche,” I start, not that I mean to lecture him—but I happen to excel at this subject. “Once given a designation, the souls drink from Letharion—the well of oblivion. Only after that they are let to their specific level in the House of Psyche. The virtuous souls who accumulated merit during their lifetimes are sent directly to the House of Moirai to get a new fate. The others have to work for their merit in order to ascend to the level that leads to the House of Moirai.
“Then, of course, you have the most sinful souls. They are sent to the lowest levels of the House of Moirai where they will endure gruesome punishments as payments for their sins. Once their debts are considered paid, they can move up the levels and earn merit toward an eventual reincarnation.” I pause to draw in a breath. “But you see, once a soul drinks from the Letharion, they become a blank canvas. While the soul goes on to live again at some point, it will not be as its previous self. From that regard, death is the end.”
“Is it?” he muses. “Even if they are blank canvasses, they are still the same essence, are they not?”
“They are but—” I frown. “Memories are at the basis of personhood. Without those, the soul becomes malleable to its environment. Take your soul, for example. Let’s say you died and went through Letharion and then you got assigned a new fate, but this time it’s in a completely different world, one that doesn’t remotely resemble Anthropa. You will not be you anymore. You will be a product of your environment.”
He regards me skeptically.
“You see, I only half agree with you on that. Yes, the environment likely plays a very big role in shaping someone’s personality. But what about inherent inclinations? A soul must have certain inclinations.”
“That is…” I blink. “I am not quite sure,” I admit, to my great chagrin. Not only do I not have an answer to his question, but I realize that I’ve never questioned the status quo of souls.
“Souls do have an inherent spiritual energy that remains the same regardless of the incarnation,” I add slowly.
“Then I don’t see why there wouldn’t be other inherent things, too,” Mine points out.
I nod thoughtfully.
“You have given me much to think on,” I tell him honestly. “My education, just like that of every other deity, comes from schooling and textbooks. No one but the Psyche deities are allowed to step inside the House of Psyche—and the souls, of course.”
“Why is no one allowed inside?” Mine asks.
“There is one thing deities cannot do, and that is to mess with a mortal’s soul or fate. The House of Psyche is a fortress in that regard, as is the House of Moirai. We may have a lot of abilities, but even we are ruled by fate.”
“Abilities? I have yet to see any abilities from you.” Mine cracks a smile.
“I told you that I’m being punished for helping you !” I roll my eyes. “But I will prove to you I speak the truth.”
When we finally reach a more secluded area, I put my hand up to stop him.
Kai should help convince Mine I am telling the truth, but I also have an ulterior motive for resorting to this. If Kai didn’t believe me that there was a demon before, he can no longer deny it now. A greed demon, too. Not only will I get an I told you so moment, but I will also get the chance to question him regarding greed demons.
Kai is part of the same division as me, so I doubt he would know more about them. But he is much, much older than me, so perhaps he’s heard of similar cases in the past. In any case, I will have done my duty to announce the presence of a sin demon and ask for appropriate guidance. Whether Kai decides to let me handle the issue—with information on how to do so, of course—or he notifies the division responsible for hunting sin demons is a moot point.
Considering how rare and dangerous sin demons are, I should be getting some recognition for finding one and helping defeat it.
“Go hide behind the barn,” I tell Mine as I point to the dilapidated structure a few paces away. He doesn’t protest, marching toward it and finding an angle from which he’s not visible from my position.
It’s better if my brother doesn’t see him with me. Perhaps he can accidentally be in the vicinity, but it’s not because I asked him to come—of course not. I would never reveal myself to a human.
I roll my eyes at my own thoughts as I take out a small knife I borrowed from Mine and proceed to cut my brother’s summoning symbol in my arm—again.
Ugh.
I am not looking forward to the pain and the slow healing. Alas, it must be done.
When the last line of the symbol is carved in my flesh, a low hum of energy erupts around me. In the next second, my brother appears before me.
I blink, my mouth hanging open in shock.
He’s… He’s… Naked!
Well, there’s only a sheet covering his body, but damn it! I’ve never wanted to see that much of my brother’s naked skin.
“By the Source, Minerva! I am one step away from strangling you,” he thunders, clutching the sheet around his waist.
“Kai… I… I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize that?—”
“That I sleep? That I’m not always at your beck and call? What a novel concept,” he adds drily.
“There’s no need to get testy with me. I wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t urgent.”
“Like last time?” He raises his eyebrow.
“It was urgent! It’s just that you did not believe me.”
Kai shakes his head at me.
“You, Minerva, are hopeless. Do not use my summoning sigil again or you will not like the consequences,” he grits out.
“But, Kai, wait until I tell you what happened. You won’t believe it?—”
Before I can get the words out, he’s gone.
Poof.
He just…disappeared.
Again.
“Kaiiiiii!” I yell, though it’s in vain. He can’t hear me. He probably returned to bed. Because sleep is more precious than my discovery.
I’m so mad, I want to kick something.
“Your brother is so charming,” Mine says as he comes up behind me. “Although I don’t think I needed to see his bare ass.”
I give him a pointed look. Then I frown.
“How did you know?—”
“Let me guess. He will not help, will he?”
I release a defeated sigh. “No. He didn’t even wait for me to speak. And if I summon him again, I fear he will find another punishment for me.”
“Don’t you worry, tiny darling. I am at your service,” Mine says as he throws his arm over my shoulder. “Together, we will defeat the big bad that’s taken over the military base.” He furrows his brows as he pulls me closer. “We shall need a ship name.”
“A what?” I frown.
“A ship name. You wouldn’t know what it is. You’re not from here.” He winks.
“Explain.”
“It’s the combination of our names. To signal we’re a team. Since we are, are we not?” His voice drops an octave.
“I suppose we are.”
“Brilliant. How does MinnieMine sound? It’s very melodious, isn’t it?”
I am confused.
“I suppose?”
“MinnieMine, MinnieMine, MinnieMine,” he continues, quite proud of himself. “I like it.”
From his pocket, he takes out a bandage. Grabbing my hand, he carefully cleans the blood before he wraps the bandage around my arm.
Surprise washes over me. That is…quite thoughtful of him. I forgot I would need a bandage for the wound until it heals.
But as he focuses on tying the bandage around my arm, he keeps whispering the same ship name all over again.
MinnieMine, MinnieMine, MinnieMine.
I don’t know why he keeps repeating this ship name, or what the purpose of it is. Then again, I have already ascertained that this Mine is an odd duck himself. More often than not, I do not understand him or what he wants to say.
Regardless, right now he is overlooking the most important thing.
“I think you’re forgetting something, Mine. We don’t know how to defeat the big bad,” I add in a wry voice.
He sobers. “It shouldn’t be too hard, no? You kill demons.”
“As I told you before, sin demons are a different category. They cannot be exorcised in the same manner as regular demons. It is why I would have required my brother’s assistance considering I am quite powerless at the moment.”
“I can assist you,” he protests.
I take a deep breath. “You’re human , Mine. And you have no idea what to do.”
He opens his mouth to argue before he closes it. He nods at me.
“You are right. We should first figure out how to get rid of this demon.”
I narrow my eyes at him.
“You are oddly exuberant about this. Why?”
“Why would I not be? I get to team up with the hottest demon slayer and kick some demon butt. There’s hardly anything more exciting than this.”
His words echo in my brain, and I’m a bit too slow at dissecting each individual word. He called me hot.
I glance down at my body. I’m still wearing his sweater. Is that a jibe at me being too cold now and requiring his sweater to be warm? I’m well aware I’ve lost my powers and now I’m susceptible to puny things like cold. He doesn’t have to mock me for it.
“You are very odd, Mine,” I comment. “I did not anticipate you would take this so well.”
“Why wouldn’t I? I’m always ready for a fight.” He winks at me.
Again.
Why is he always winking at me? Does he have a defective eyelid?
“Minnie Mine. Saving people. Hunting things?—”
“I think you’re getting ahead of yourself. Just a few hours ago you had no idea what a greed demon was and now you want to fight one?”
“Well, yes,” he says with a nod. “We will do it together.” He gives me a smile as he presses me closer to his side.
“Did you not understand anything that I told you? I have no idea how to kill a greed demon. My brother will not even listen to me long enough for me to ask him what to do. Without my abilities, not only can I not fight, but I also can’t make contact with anyone in Aperion to ask for information on greed demons.”
He purses his lips.
“That is, indeed, a quandary.”
I let out a tired sigh.
“Tomorrow is another day. I’ll try to think of something in the meantime,” I grumble. Though, if I’m perfectly honest, I have no idea what I could come up with. I could, of course, try again to summon my brother, but that will likely end up in tragedy.
For me.
Kai might have a soft spot for me, but he also has quite the temper and if I push him too much, he might just hand me over to our parents and wash his hands of me—and that is not an option.
Ugh. Why can’t he ever take me seriously? I had a legitimate reason for calling him. If only he had listened to my concerns instead of dismissing them…
Alas, I must find a way to figure things out by myself. I spare a glance at Mine. He still has that weird smile on his face as he’s gazing at me. I suppose I can consider him my partner for now. We are both just as powerless, something that makes me wanna scream in frustration. Hear that. Me, being as powerless as a puny human.
Humph.
It doesn’t escape me, however, that if I do manage to vanquish this greed demon as powerless as I am right now, that should earn me quite the recognition back home. Commander Azerius would finally recognize my resourcefulness.
I bite my lip as I ponder that. Perhaps this isn’t such a bad outcome—as long as I can find a way to kill that demon, of course.
The only positive is that Mine is not only indigent to this world, but he is also a respected member of the autochthonous military, which should help me as I learn to navigate this world. Having him as an ally might be advantageous, after all.
“Good night, Mine. I will talk to you later,” I tell him and turn to leave.
“Where are you going?” He frowns, keeping up with me.
“To sleep.”
He tilts his head to the side and blinks twice.
“Where?”
“At the dorm.” I roll my eyes.
“But—” His words are cut off as he doubles over in pain. Holding on to his midriff, he falls to his knees. Low groans of pain slip past his lips.
I hurry to his side.
“Are you all right?”
He shakes his head. His features are tight with tension.
“I think my wound opened up,” he barely lets out.
“Oh, no,” I whisper. “We need to head back to the infirmary. Now!” I gulp down. “I should have stitched it,” I mutter to myself.
I grab his arm and lay it over my shoulders as I try to help him up.
“No,” he grits out. “My…tent. I have everything there.”
He must sense that I’m about to protest because he adds, “It’s closer.”
He has a point.
Nodding, I help him move, though it’s quite hard on both of us. Not only is he so much taller than me, but he is also much heavier. Without my powers, I can barely shoulder any of his weight. Good thing that his tent is not too far away, and within a few minutes, we make it back inside.
As we enter the tent, he collapses onto the small bed, almost taking me with him. I manage to extract myself from his grasp right as his body hits the mattress.
He groans in pain, turning to his side and clutching his stomach tighter.
“In the…back. White box…” he struggles to say.
Driven by an unusual urgency, I ransack the back of his tent in search of that white box. First, I look in his trunk. It’s not there. Then I scan the contents of his suitcase. Only after long, drawn-out minutes do I spot a white box.
I pop it open to make sure it has the right materials.
“Found it,” I declare, turning to him.
He removed his shirt and unbuttoned his pants. His bandage is half peeled off, and fresh blood stains his skin.
I press my lips together.
He must have strained too much for the wound to gape wide open like this.
“It will need stitches,” I tell him as I place the white box on the table in front of him and take a seat on the bed next to him.
“You can do it, no?”
“Of course.” I bristle.
“Good. You should find everything you might need in that box.”
I nod, getting to work to wash the blood off his wound.
“This will likely leave a scar,” I comment as I see the extent of the injury. How did it get so bad in a matter of hours? I could have sworn it was only a superficial scratch when I first treated it.
“What’s one more scar?” He shrugs, pointing to his face.
I glance up, studying the scar tissue on the side of his face. It may be that I’ve gotten used to him, but I’ve stopped noticing his scar.
“That’s not even the worst,” he continues, turning slightly to show me his marred back. “I have scars everywhere.”
“Are they from battle?”
He shakes his head.
“I’ve had them for as long as I can remember.”
My grip on the needle and thread falters. His scars denote unspeakable pain if I were to go by the depth and amount of tissue affected. For someone to suffer anything like that…
“Why? What happened?”
He’s silent for a few moments.
“I was ill,” he murmurs.
“What illness causes this? These scars look as if someone burned the flesh off your body,” I ask before I realize that my words might be construed as rude.
He licks his lip and I can sense some hesitation.
“My family is not originally from the United States,” he starts.
“You’re French, no?” I interrupt. I’d heard some people refer to him as the Frenchman—not that I paid too much attention to what was being said about him.
“You could say so.” He chuckles. “Where we’re from, there are…divisions in society.”
I frown.
“What do you mean by divisions?”
“The government was even more fascist than Hitler’s. It wanted to achieve spe—uhm, racial purity. My mother was pureblood, but my father was considered the enemy.”
“What does that have to do with your illness?”
He sighs.
“The government devised a disease that would affect only those with my father’s blood. By some miracle, he did not catch the illness. But I did.” He pauses. “I almost died.”
“Is such a thing possible? A disease that targets only a specific group of people?”
He nods grimly.
“What happened?” I ask, barely in control of the tremor in my voice.
“The disease was killing me from the inside out. My parents tried everything they could to eradicate it from my body. These”—he points to his facial scars—“are a result of those efforts.”
“They…hurt you?” I whisper.
“No. They were trying to save me.”
“But… How…” I bite my lip. “Did it work?”
He gives me a sad smile.
“Nothing worked.”
“I don’t understand. You’re still alive, aren’t you?”
“Only a part of me is,” he answers cryptically. “The only way for them to keep me alive was to get rid of the part that was poisoning me.”
“Your father’s blood?”
He nods.
“Your medicine is that advanced?”
I’ve never heard of anything like that before.
“Let’s say they used an alternative type of medicine,” he mentions with a chuckle. But the flex of his abdominal muscles causes his wound to contract and he winces from it.
I grab his hand and squeeze it in an attempt to give him something else to focus on other than the pain from his wound.
His hand is warm, comfortable. His big palm engulfs my smaller one. Though I was the one with the initiative, he ends up being the one leading the encounter. Somehow, that makes my heart skip a beat. Why, I do not know. It’s an odd thing, really. Almost every atom in my being vibrates, jumps around, and does odd somersaults in the air.
“Is that when you started seeing the spiritual world, too?” I clear my throat as I slowly pull my hand out of his. I’d like nothing better than to keep it there, but every time we touch, I seem to lose my focus. Not only that, but my mind becomes blank. All my thoughts disintegrate until all I can do is stare at him like a damn fool. Quite a peculiar thing. I’ve never heard of such a condition before, where one is rendered an idiot by a simple touch.
But that means he is dangerous to my well-being and I should limit these skin-to-skin interactions.
“Yes. Seeing the spiritual world is the only thing I was left with,” he adds, once more making me frown in confusion.
He says the most cryptic things, and I have a hard time understanding him. Perhaps it’s the fact that though I’m not touching him, I’m still in his vicinity and that may cause a neurological affliction.
I must study this phenomenon more. It’s bad enough I lost my powers. I cannot afford to love my brain, too.
“You shouldn’t go on any missions for the foreseeable future,” I mention as I cut the thread on his last stitch and bandage the wound.
This is it. The end. I will finish this and leave—put some distance between us so I can think straight again.
“It will heal.”
Skepticism suffuses me. Just moments ago, he was doubled down in pain and now he’s…rather nonchalant.
“It won’t if you strain yourself.”
“It’s fine. You’ll be there to put me back together, no?” he asks in a low voice.
I roll my eyes at him.
“Only for the next ninety-nine days. After that, you’ll have to find a different nurse.”
“What if I want you ? Only you?”
“Then you’re out of luck. I kill demons for a living. I don’t heal puny humans,” I point out. “I’m only doing this as a last resort until I get my powers back.”
“You’re a natural at it,” he mentions. “And I don’t mind being your puny human.” He wiggles his brows at me. “I’ll let you do anything to me as long as I can feel those pretty hands of yours on my skin.”
I glare at him and stab the needle through his skin.
“Ouch,” he exclaims in surprise. “Don’t be so mean to me, Minnie. I told you I have a weak heart,” he murmurs in a low voice. Bringing his hand to his chest, he rubs circles over his heart as if to prove a point.
I follow the movements of his hand with my eyes, and my cheeks flush a deep red as I realize I’m staring at his naked chest.
The dim lighting of the tent gives his skin a golden hue. His muscles are hard and well-defined, and for a split second, I picture that it’s me who’s touching his chest. That it’s me who’s rubbing my hands all over those hard planes, feeling his heartbeats and…
“Unless you kiss it better?” He grins. “Maybe then it will heal,” he says with a wink.
His words jolt me back to the present. No-no-no, this is out of the question.
“You’re one of those shovels, aren’t you?” I narrow my eyes at him.
He blinks in confusion. “What? I’m a…shovel?”
“Y-you think you c-can entice me with your s-sweet words?” I croak, pulling back and giving him a stare down.
His hand stills on his chest, and once more, my eyes betray me as they zone in on his naked flesh. But I quickly recover and bring my gaze back to his face.
“Entice you?” he repeats, a smile pulling at his lips.
“Yes. Shovels do that. But it will not work. I am warning you, Mine. Don’t think to try something with me or I will be forced to club you over the head with this box,” I say as I grab the white box. It’s made out of thick wood, so I think it will do some damage. If he wants another scar to add to his collection, I am more than happy to oblige him.
I expect him to be scared or at least wary. Instead, he just smiles indulgently at me.
“I think you mean rake, not shovel,” he adds in an amused voice.
I glare at him again.
“Same thing,” I grumble. Who decided to call a defiler of innocents a gardening tool anyway? As if this English language is not confusing enough.
He shakes his head and laughs.
“ I am a rake? Do you even know what that is?”
“Of course I know!” I burst out, incensed. Getting to my feet, I shoot daggers at him with my eyes. “Rakes are the worst. Flirting with every female and feeding them sweet words to steal their virtue.”
He stops laughing. Leaning against the wall, he assumes a relaxed pose as he lets his gaze slowly roam over my body.
“That is where you’re wrong, tiny darling. I am not flirting with every female. I am only flirting with you .”
“Aha!” I point at him accusatorially. “So you admit you’re flirting with me.”
“Why would I deny it?” He shrugs. “But you see, I cannot possibly be a rake, since yours is the only virtue I am concerned about,” he adds in a smooth voice.
“And you think that makes it better?” I cry out, my eyes widening at his easy admission.
He shrugs, a stupid grin plastered on his face.
“My virtue is off-limits, you insufferable oaf!”
“To anyone else, yes.” He smiles shamelessly at me.
My nostrils flare in anger as I stare at him.
“Is that why you were feeding me donuts?” I ask, new suspicion entering my mind. “Was that a bribe?”
“Of course not,” he answers, and I’m surprised to hear indignation in his voice. “The donuts were to make you smile. I like it when you smile.”
I blink.
“You d-do?” I whisper.
He nods and takes a step closer.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And when you smile, you damn near give me a heart attack.”
My lips part, but no sound comes out. I just stare at him, unable to find my words. Of all the things he could have said…
My cheeks are flaming hot. A flush spreads down my body until I’m uncomfortably warm and jittery.
“Stop this,” I whisper. “Stop talking about my smile, or my virtue, or anything indecent like that.”
He smirks. The action folds the skin around his scar, making it seem more prominent. Yet even now, instead of turning me off, his scar only makes him seem more appealing. More…
Bad Minerva! You shouldn’t be noticing his smile.
“I fear that’s impossible, Minnie darling,” he murmurs.
“Not really. Just…don’t think about them. Or me. Or?—”
“Or?”
Why does he have to still be shirtless at this exact moment? And why is he so close to me—so much so that once more I find my brain turning to mush?
“If your plan was to lure me to your tent and have your w-wicked way with me, it w-will n-not work, Mine,” I stammer as I back away. “In fact, if you have any nefarious plans with me, this”—I motion between the two of us—“will not work.”
“What do you mean?”
“I am canceling our ship . I can deal with that greed demon on my own just fine.”
I turn to leave.
My heart beats wildly in my chest. I should have realized that all my encounters with Mine were not fortuitous. Males are the same everywhere I go. They only want to use females for their own needs, and Mine is no different. Why else would he have been so kind to me from the start if not to make me lower my guard so he can take advantage of me. And with the way he’s messing with my head, it is much better to keep my distance from him.
Alas, he chose the wrong target. I am not take-advantageable.
“Minnie, wait!” he calls after me.
Don’t look back, Minerva!
Ignoring his thudding steps behind me, I push through the tent entrance.
The chilly night wind immediately hits me in the face, but so does something else. A pungent smell that makes me gag.