Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
The wind blows through the small opening in the tent, bringing with it a gust of cold air. I let out a shiver. It will never cease to amaze me how uncomfortable the cold can be.
As I blink, a form materializes in front of me.
Tommy. The young soldier.
“You must be Tommy,” I greet him, glad I am properly clothed for visitors.
Perhaps Aperion should also fund a school for wandering ghosts so they know what the proper etiquette is—as in not to enter a place uninvited, especially when someone is in bed. Alas, he’s young and confused. I will forgive him this once.
Keeping the blanket over my legs, I turn to get a better look at him.
He doesn’t answer me. Glancing right and left, he appears to be searching for something.
“Tommy?”
At that, he finally looks at me.
“I’m glad you’re all right,” he mentions.
“Thank you. And thank you for the warning, too.”
He shrugs. “I didn’t think you could see me. Not many people do.”
“You’re a ghost, Tommy. It’s normal for people not to see you. But why did you not cross over when the messengers came for you?”
“I’m not done,” he answers curtly. “Still have things to do.” Entering deeper into the tent, he walks around, his attention seemingly far away from me.
“Where is the Major?” he asks.
“Mine?”
“No, mine.”
“Yes. Mine.”
“No. Mine . My Major,” he adds, confused.
“That’s what I said.” I frown. “Mine.”
“He’s not your Major. You’re a woman.” He glares at me as if I committed the greatest faux pas.
I roll my eyes.
“Mine is his name, silly.” I shake my head at him.
“No, it’s not,” the ghost replies.
“Yes. It is. He told me so himself,” I add. “His middle name is Mine. But that’s beside the point since I’m the only one allowed to use it,” I tell him proudly.
The ghost narrows his eyes at me.
“What are you on about, woman?” He shakes his head at me before he releases a deep sigh. “I will wait for the Major to return.”
He moves to the back of the tent and takes a seat at Mine’s desk.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Getting out of bed, I put on Mine’s coat and glare at this daring ghost.
“I need to speak with him.”
“Why? How do you even know he can see you?”
“Because he’s spoken to me before.”
“He…has?”
The boy nods.
“He told me he would help me send a message to my sweetheart back home. I’ve been thinking about what to say and…” He swallows. “I think I’m ready now.” He removes a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket—surprising that a ghost can do that. But then again, my specialty lies in demons not ghosts.
“I see…” I mumble awkwardly.
Silence ensues between us as we wait for Mine to return. It’s not on purpose, but what can I talk about with a ghost? The ghost of a teenage boy at that, too.
Yet as I ruminate on our previous conversation, something keeps niggling at my mind.
“What did you mean when you said Mine is not his middle name?”
Tommy raises his gaze to look at me.
“It’s not,” he answers. “I trained under him. Everyone knows his full name.”
“And that is?”
“Lucian Valerìon de Vitry,” he answers in a booming voice, his tone performative. “The lads used to make fun of his name all the time.” He smiles. “Behind his back, of course.”
“Of course,” I echo feebly.
“I mean, that’s the name of some royalty, is it not? It’s not that hard to think of some duke by the name of Lucian Valerìon de Vitry.” He laughs. “Even his mannerisms confirm that.”
“His…mannerisms?” I ask tentatively.
“He never eats with the other soldiers. He never eats from the cantina either.”
I frown.
“Then what does he eat?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. But it’s very unusual for someone of his rank not to eat with his regimen.”
“Maybe he doesn’t like the food,” I suggest. It’s hard for me to imagine that, though, since when I’m hungry, I’ll eat just about anything.
“That’s not all. He’s known for his insane standards for flying. No one but him can fly his plane, and his crew must thoroughly wash before each mission. The plane, too, must be spotless or he won’t take off. He’s gotten into a lot of conflicts with the higher-ups over it, but somehow, he was never punished for insubordination when others would have been demoted and thrown in jail. Me and the lads wondered if that’s because he has some lofty connections, you know.”
I listen attentively, though I have no frame of reference to compare his behavior with. But if Tommy thinks it is so irregular, then maybe there’s something to it?
“That’s not to say the Major isn’t a good guy. He’s probably one of the nicest people on the base. He’s just…odd,” Tommy continues.
“Are you sure he doesn’t have another middle name that you’re not aware of? He assured me his middle name was Mine.”
“If he does, I’ve never seen it on any official document,” the boy answers. “Though gotta say, miss, Mine is an odd name, is it not? I’ve never heard of such a name before. Except…”
“Except?”
“Maybe he’s sweet on you and he wanted you to call him like that…like an endearment, I s’pose.”
I blink slowly. “An endearment?”
“Yeah, like a claim that he’s yours. I call my sweetheart keeper of my heart.” His face suddenly drops. “I s’pose now I won’t be able to do that anymore.”
“I’m sorry, Tommy.” I try to comfort the young ghost, though why, I cannot tell. This is the natural order of things. Mortals die and they are reborn. It is the cycle of life. “If you cross over, you might be able to find her again in another life,” I suggest.
The odds are slim. Unless they are connected by a thread of fate, their connection will end in this lifetime. But seeing Tommy’s ghostly face light up makes me wary of mentioning that one small detail.
“You mean I could be with her again, miss?”
“If you cross over. The more you delay the process, the more you’ll mess with the order of things.”
He grimaces. “I just wanna give her one last note.”
“I’m sure Min—er, Major Vitry will help with that.”
“He’s a kind man, Major Vitry.” Tommy smiles wistfully. “Don’t be too harsh on him. I’m sure he didn’t mean to deceive you.”
“Right,” I mutter. The fact that even Tommy thinks he deceived me is telling enough. But is it true? Did M—Vitry deceive me? Did he actually lie about his name? Or could it be that it’s something Tommy wouldn’t know? I am not sure what to believe. On the one hand, I am very flattered he would share such a secret name with me. But on the other, if he did lie to me to make me call him mine , I would be very upset.
I purse my lips. Was Vitry mocking me? Laughing at me behind my back for falling for such a silly thing? I may not be good at this English language, but I would be insulted if he used that against me. And for what end? Is it like Tommy said, an endearment? I must confess I did find it a little odd that his name would be a possessive pronoun, but since I’m not familiar with the rules in this world, I couldn’t contest it.
“He must be very taken with you since he’s allowing you to sleep in his tent. He never does that.”
“Never does what?” I narrow my eyes.
“He never mingles with the chicks. It’s a running joke.” He sobers up. “Of course not to his face.”
“And why is it a joke?”
“Ah, I’m not sure this is fit for the ears of a miss,” he adds in a shy voice. If he weren’t a ghost, I’m sure he would have blushed.
“Tell me,” I command him in a haughty voice.
How dare he pique my curiosity and then not satisfy it?
“Well”—he clears his throat—“we have parties. After every mission, we hit the town—the ones who make it back.” His features twist in sadness. He probably realizes he’s now one of the ones who did not make it back.
“And?”
“The Major would come with us but would only stay for a drink and then leave when everyone started chasing skirts.”
“Chasing skirts?” I ask, not familiar with the term.
“Ladies. Chasing ladies.”
“Oh, I see. Continue.”
“That’s it.” He shrugs. “He always left, saying he already had a missus waiting for him.”
“Who?” The question is out before I can think about it. Tommy’s eyes widen at the vitriol in my voice. Then he smiles.
“He never said. He wouldn’t be the first to have a sweetheart back home. But others decide to forget about that. An ocean apart and all that. Not me, though. My sweetheart is the only one for me.” His face falls again.
Mi—Vitry has a sweetheart back home? He never mentioned anything of the sort to me. Not that he should have—we’re only acquaintances, right? But then why do I feel an uncomfortable heat in my chest at the thought of him with another female? And why would he behave so carelessly with me if he had someone else?
He might not have been trying to chase skirts before, but the more I think about it, the more I realize he was most definitely trying to chase me.
What was his goal? Make me call him mine , invade my personal space, and follow me around until I gave in? Until he invaded my mind and all I could do was think about him, day and night?
My heart stops for a beat.
Oh, no. That’s what I have been doing. He has scarcely left my mind since that cursed moment when we met. It’s become even worse after we saw each other again.
Was this his purpose from the beginning? Make me lose my damn mind? Because I’m almost certain it worked. And if that wasn’t enough, he clearly sought to do more. He even convinced me to sleep in the same bed as him! If anyone were to find out about that…
A shudder goes down my back.
He’s been lying to me all along. And like a fool, I’ve been ignoring all my instincts about him. I should have known someone as good-looking and charming as him would be a shovel. To think I slept in the same bed as him… Oh, the horror. My virtue was one step away from being compromised. No, my entire future was one step away from being taken away from me.
Thank all the Primordials for giving me this chance to come to my senses and realize what Vitry has been doing. A little more time in his presence and I fear I would have made a terrible, terrible mistake.
“You really mean it?” Tommy asks after a moment “I can meet my missus again in another life?”
“Yes. But that means you must cross over as soon as possible.”
He glances at the note in his hands.
“I tried to go back home. But for some reason, I can’t go further than a hundred miles or so.”
“You’re probably tied to the area because it’s the place you died,” I comment. “And you’re a young ghost. That’s normal.”
He nods slowly.
“How can I cross over then?”
I think for a moment. There’s no magic word to call a messenger back. They are soulless, mechanical beings acting on strict orders. If they cannot retrieve a soul, they leave. But…
“When another person dies, you can follow the messenger that comes for that soul,” I suggest.
That should work— I think. I should know this, yet we were never taught about the intricacies of a soul or what happens in irregular scenarios like Tommy’s case. We were only taught the basics—mortal dies, soul is taken by a messenger; if not, by a collector later on. No textbook I read ever mentioned what happens if a soul decides to cross over on its own, before the collectors come looking for it.
“Thank you, miss. I will do that.” He smiles.
I force myself to return the smile.
“You can wait for your Major here. I must leave.”
He nods absentmindedly, already focused on his crumpled note as he mouths the words in the letter to himself.
I turn to leave, taking with me both the coat and his shirt. After all the lies he’s been spouting, the least he can do is make it up to me with physical goods as payment.
The chilly air hits me in the face as I march forward toward my dorm.
My teeth clatter in my mouth, yet I find that it’s not the low temperature that’s making my body react thusly. It’s a deep-seated sense of disappointment.
Despite our arguments, I truly thought Mi—Vitry was a good man, with good intentions. It’s disappointing to realize that is not so. All along, he had duplicitous intentions with me.
That damn shovel!
He chose the wrong person to mess with.
My hands ball into fists and slowly, the initial upset gives way to anger.
How dare he?
Not only did he fool me into calling him mine just to mock me, but if he already has a sweetheart or whatever waiting for him, then what were his intentions with me? Not that I wanted him to have any intentions with me—of course not. Even if he were free and unattached, I would have refused his advances. But it’s the mere intent behind his actions. He deceived me from the first, and like a damn fool, I believed everything he told me.
Yet there is one thing that bothers me more than the deceit.
He has a female. Somewhere out there, there is a female he calls his own. While I was calling him mine , he was calling another female mine .
I stop abruptly. Stomping my feet on the ground, I let out a few expletives.
Stop it, Minerva!
It doesn’t matter that he has a female. It only matters that he tried to take advantage of me. That is the only thing I should focus my anger on.
I should have trusted my instincts when they were telling me he was bad news. And to think I took a damn bullet to the shoulder for him.
I should have let the scoundrel die! Or at least bear the brunt of the pain. It wouldn’t have been what he deserves, but it would have been a start.
With that thought, I remember my injury. Moving my left arm around, I realize there’s no more pain. It seems the wound healed after all.
Ah, the little things. But the lack of pain does little to make me feel better. In fact, all I’d like to do now is find Vitry and give him a taste of pain—show him I’m not the easy target he clearly thinks I am.
“Minnie! Where are you going?”
I swivel and come face-to-face with the object of my annoyance.
There he is, this damned Vitry, in all his handsome glory. Starched uniform, not one speck of dust anywhere on his clothes. His hair is swept to the side in a careful style. There’s nothing out of place with him.
I glare at him, but all he does is smile.
Even his eyes smile—those damn green eyes.
“Why did you leave? I got you some donuts.”
My stomach rumbles—the traitor.
This time, however, not even sweet, sugary donuts will sway me. I will not become a slave to my cravings.
“I do not want to be around shovels like you,” I tell him angrily.
His lashes flutter. They’re rather long lashes. For a male, of course. Not that I’m noticing. I’m only focusing on them because I’m secretly wishing some dust would enter his eyes so he would tear at the sight of me.
Yes, oh, yes! Now that would be rather marvelous.
Remember who you are, Minerva!
I am a goddess! A demon slayer. I’m not just some nurse he can charm with his smile, green eyes, and sweet donuts…
I’ll show him!
“Are we back at that?” He sighs. “I told you I am not a rake.”
“Oh, yes. You are. You will not fool me anymore, Vitry ,” I state emphatically as I take a step forward and poke my finger into his chest—hm, a very hard chest.
“Vitry?”
“I know Mine isn’t your real name. Don’t try to deny it.”
He doesn’t seem surprised at my accusation. He doesn’t even blink an eye.
“I will not.”
“So you admit it.”
He shrugs.
“You… Did you have fun laughing at my expense?” I grit out.
“It was a lighthearted joke, Minnie.”
“Don’t call me that. You’ve lost your Minnie privileges.”
“Come on, tiny darling. You know I would never laugh at your expense.”
“Do I?” I narrow my eyes at him. “I don’t think I do. As a matter of fact, I hardly know anything about you.”
“You do?—”
“What, that your name is not Mine?” I roll my eyes.
“It can be,” he answers casually. “For you, it can be.”
“What about that sweetheart of yours?”
He tilts his head to the side, frowning.
“Sweetheart?”
“Don’t try to lie. I know you have a female. Tommy told me.”
His features darken.
“And what did he tell you?” he asks in a low, dangerous voice.
“T-that you told everyone you have a female waiting for you. So don’t even try to charm me with your words since I don’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth anymore. And from now on”—I pause and straighten my back—“I will actually call you Notmine .”
His eyes widen.
“Have a bad day, Notmine . I hope you”—I try to think of something quick—“trip and land in a pile of trash. At least then you’ll be amongst your own.”
Okay, not my best comeback, but it will have to do. I add a huff for good measure and stomp away from him.
My heart pounds in my chest as adrenaline clogs my veins.
“Minnie, wait!”
I walk faster.
I may have managed to keep my wits about me the first time, but I’m not sure I will be able to do it the second time.
Vitry doesn’t seem to take a hint, though. Where I go, he follows.
Since I can’t go to the dorm with him on my trail, I walk around in circles, hoping he’d get tired.
He doesn’t.
“Minnie, let’s talk, all right?”
I don’t answer.
“Minnie, please. Don’t be like this. I can explain everything.”
Right. As if I’d fall for that.
I keep walking.
After some thirty-forty minutes of walking around in circles, I’m starting to get tired. Vitry has not given up, nor has he stopped calling out my name and all but begging me to give him a chance to explain himself.
Taking a deep breath, I stop.
“Minnie…”
“This won’t work,” I tell him before he has the opportunity to say anything. “We need to resolve this.”
“Resolve this…how?”
“There’s too much tension between us.”
“Good on you to notice.” He smirks.
I shoot him an annoyed look.
“Seeing as how I’m stuck here for two more months, I will have no choice but to keep seeing you.”
“Indeed.”
“We should do it. Get rid of the tension once and for all,” I tell him confidently.
He opens his mouth and closes it. Clearing his throat, he averts his gaze.
“By doing it, you mean…”
“Let out the steam. Get whatever this is”—I wave between the two of us—“out of our systems once and for all.”
He swallows hard. His body is tense and he appears uncomfortable.
He’s not afraid, is he?
“You want to do it?” he repeats.
“That’s what I said.” Why is he so slow?
“Here? Now?”
“Of course not here.” I groan. Don’t tell me this is his first time? “We need a more private setting.”
“Private setting,” he mumbles, his cheeks slightly redder than before.
He rolls back his shoulders and seemingly infuses more confidence into his stance.
“Are you sure?” he asks, though he does not dare meet my eyes.
Aha! I was right. He is afraid.
“Very,” I confirm. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”
He wets his lips and the action draws my attention to his mouth. His lips are rather…nice. I find myself licking my own in response.
“I’m not scared,” he replies, though I can detect his fake bravado seeping through. “It’s just that…” He mumbles something under his breath. If only I had my normal hearing back, I would have been able to understand what he said. As it stands, I must get closer to him to hear.
“What was that?” I ask.
He gulps down. His Adam’s apple—that’s what humans call that apparatus, no?—bobs up and down, suggesting his uncertainty. He may maintain that he is not scared as much he wants, but his body language says otherwise.
I knew it! I might be powerless in my current form, but I am still a goddess, while he is a mere mortal. He is right to be afraid. He should be terrified.
Although I do not have my usual powers, I have not forgotten centuries of hand-to-hand combat. I am confident I can take him on— and win.
“I’ve never done it before,” he says in a low voice, his gaze still focused someplace else.
“You’ve never…”
He nods.
That’s odd. At his age and level of experience, never mind rank, I would have expected him to be experienced.
“Then I will be your first,” I declare. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you well.” I pat him on the back and wink at him.
He whips his gaze to me. His entire body tenses, and it’s almost as if his eyes could see right through me.
“And you’ve done this before?” There’s an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before. Gone is the almost stuttering, shy male, now replaced with a dark and foreboding one.
Oh, I see. He realized that letting me see his fear will not aid him in this case, so he’s now trying to intimidate me. He probably thinks that as a male he has an advantage over me because he’s bigger and stronger.
Well, I’m faster. And I have thousands of years of experience under my belt.
“Of course. I’ve done it many times before.”
His eyes flash at me. He probably did not expect me to be so experienced. I may look small and innocent, but I will show him that appearances deceive.
“How many times?”
“Do you think I counted?” I roll my eyes at him.
“How many men?” He takes a step toward me, intruding into my personal space.
“Seriously, Vitry. I don’t know. I lost count. I’ve had thousands of years of practice, all right?”
He stares at me. For moments on end, he stares at me.
“Are you going to back out now? If you’re too scared, you just have to say so and?—”
“We’ll do it,” he declares through clenched teeth. “Come,” he says and grabs my wrist, dragging me in the direction of his tent.
Realizing his intention, I stop him.
“No, no, no. Your tent won’t work.”
He frowns at me.
“It’s too small. I need somewhere bigger.”
“Somewhere bigger?” he repeats, his voice holding a trace of danger.
I nod.
“Otherwise, we’ll ruin your stuff. Then you won’t have a bed to sleep in or a desk to work at.”
“A bed… A desk…” He echoes.
“I’m looking out for you,” I assure him. “I know myself and my skills. It will get rowdy.”
“Rowdy…” He swallows. His hand is balled into a fist, his veins protruding through his flesh almost as if they’re about to pop open. Oh, he’s scared, isn’t he?
“Let’s go to that abandoned barn. No one will bother us there. And I don’t want anyone to see us either. It won’t be good for my reputation.”
He doesn’t speak anymore. He lets me lead him to the barn, all the while staring into empty space. It’s almost as if he’s checked out of the situation, and as we get closer to the barn, I start having second thoughts.
He seems truly terrified.
Did he only agree to do it so he wouldn’t lose face? Is it about some manly pride?
Based on his body language, he looks as though he’s heading to his execution.
“I won’t kill you.” I feel the need to assure him. “I cannot kill humans.”
His lip twitches.
“So you’ll just fuck me to an inch of my life, is that it?” He lets out a dry laugh.
So he knows I am the stronger of the two.
“I’ll be as gentle as I can,” I tell him. Though considering his deceit, I don’t know how gentle I can be.
“Lucky me,” he mutters under his breath.
We arrive at the barn and manage to sneak inside without anyone seeing us. The place is empty and quite large. It will be the perfect location to finally put this—whatever there is between us—to rest.
The wooden door creaks as it closes behind us and I take a few steps forward, assessing the angles of the barn and committing them to mind.
“All right, now—” I start, ready to set the rules.
But as I turn to face him, my mouth drops open in shock.
His coat is already on the floor and he’s now aggressively pulling at his shirt, all but ripping the buttons in his attempt to get it off.
“W-what are you doing?” I ask.
“What do you think I’m doing?” he counters, the same twitch in his jaw as before. His muscles cord and ripple with every movement, his veins more prominent than before. Given his tense state, I can see them on his torso too. Running up his chest and neck and…
“You don’t need to take your clothes off for it,” I add weakly.
He glares at me.
“Is that how you’ve done it in the past? Clothed?” He pulls the white shirt off and throws it to the side.
“O-of course,” I mutter, taking a step back.
How are the roles reversed now and I am the one tense and afraid?
My eyes widen even more when he reaches for his belt. He undoes it, then pulls down the zipper of his pants and…
“Vitry!” I call out, incensed. “What the hell are you doing?”
“What you wanted me to do,” he replies through gritted teeth.
Pulling on the belt, he almost rips through the loops. He’s so angry, it’s like he’s an entirely different person.
He pulls his pants down and aggressively pushes them to the side with his feet. He’s now bare-chested and wearing only his briefs.
My breathing constricts, and I feel myself getting lightheaded.
“Your turn.” He motions to me.
“M-me?”
“Yes, you. Clothes off, Minerva,” he commands. It’s the first time he’s used my full name, and I’m not sure I like it. There’s so much aggression rolling off him, it’s as if I did something wrong, not him.
“I will only take my coat off,” I tell him and shrug it off. But unlike him, I place it carefully to the side.
He shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
Striding toward me, it takes me a moment to realize that it is happening.
We’re doing this.
I take a deep breath and count the seconds until he’s close enough.
“After this, you will tell me the name of every single male that?—”
Before he can finish his sentence, I’m on him. My fist connects with the center of his face, hitting him in the nose.
It…hurts.
“Auch,” I cry out, jumping back and cradling my fist to my chest.
“What the fuck, Minnie? What was that for?”
Blood spurts from his nose, dripping down his chin and chest in thick rivulets.
Despite my lack of powers, that was a pretty good punch, wasn’t it? But it was so damn painful. I don’t know if I can use the same fist to hit him again.
While he’s holding on to his nose and muttering a string of curses, I take advantage of his distraction to move to his side.
With my right fist retired, I use my elbow to hit him between his ribs.
Just as I expected, he doesn’t see my attack coming, and in no time, he’s gasping for breath.
“Come at me, Vitry. I don’t want this to be one-sided.”
In between wheezing and blinking back tears, he stares at me in confusion.
“What are you talking about?”
“You did deceive me, and it is my right to get revenge, but I am not so cruel as to attack a defenseless man. So come at me,” I say and motion with my hand.
I move my right foot forward while keeping the left behind, assuming a fighting stance.
Vitry is still staring at me. He makes no effort to move. He’s just standing there, frozen, his blood still pouring down his face.
“Come at me, Vitry! I know it’s your first time, but have some courage! I promised I wouldn’t kill you. So come, hit me.”
“What?”
“I said hit me! Come on!”
He blinks.
Then instead of charging at me, he does something wholly unexpected.
He crashes to the ground, rolling onto his back and releasing a loud, piercing laugh.
Now it’s my turn to stare at him in confusion.
He laughs and laughs and laughs until tears are coursing down his cheeks, mixing with the blood from before. He laughs so much, he’s barely breathing.
I clench my fists.
I should have been the one making him cry just as I should have been the one to stop his breathing, but not like this . Why does it feel as though he’s mocking me again?
“Are you laughing at me?” I demand, stomping my foot against the gravelly floor.
He shakes his head, unable to speak due to his persisting fit of laughter.
His amusement only serves to make me angrier.
“Vitry!” I shout.
“I’m not laughing at you, tiny darling. Promise,” he chokes out. “I’m laughing at myself.”
I’m still confused.
“You wanted to do it . It being…”
“Fight it out, of course,” I answer immediately.
And the laughter ensues again.