Chapter 1 #2
“Sounded annoying. I couldn’t think of anything worse. But some other people also said that if you brought it up to him and made fun of that feral kid then you’d get it.”
Wren couldn’t breathe past the knives in his throat as faded memories flittered behind his eyes. He swiped them from the air and locked them back behind the cage he’d kept them in. “I’m sure that kid could have taken care of himself.”
Midas snorted and closed his eyes. “I’m sure he could. Sometimes protecting someone isn’t about thinking they can’t protect themselves though. It’s because they can’t stand to see the other person hurt.”
With that profound statement, the subject dropped.
Wren knew Midas wouldn’t bring it up again or try and get it out of him in a roundabout way. If Wren wanted it dropped, Midas dropped it, but not before seeing right through to the heart of something and calling it out.
Usually existence was comfortable and easy in Midas’s presence. Wren oftentimes found himself gravitating his way when their lone ships passed in the night. Which had led him to take refuge in Midas’s room tonight, like many nights before.
But it was times like these that Wren was reminded that Midas saw too much, even though he was around the least.
“There better not be fifty animals under this cover when I lift it,” Midas signed after some time had passed.
The change in conversation was welcome, and Wren found the corner of his mouth rising in a small smirk. Midas popped an eye open to catch it, his expression filled with brotherly promises of retribution if he ruined another set of expensive sheets with claw marks.
Wren stretched the neck of his already stretched-out hoodie farther, revealing Noodle’s flat yellow head tucked against his collarbone. “Just this darling.”
Blu was a given.
Midas read his lips then looked the snake over, not recoiling in fear at the vivid patterns that had been cursed onto Noodle’s skin to make him look ‘cool.’ Animal curses could be tricky to break—sometimes it was better to leave them to ensure the health of the animal.
“I suppose it’s a nice-looking belt,” Midas said eventually.
Wren gasped and raised his fist, laying a protective hand over Noodle’s precious head even though he knew Midas was joking. Midas smirked back, closing his eyes again despite the threat of violence.
Wren traced A-S-S-H-O-L-E on Midas’s arm, then followed it up with a punch for good measure.
Midas grunted and shot a glare at him, clutching his forearm for a moment before signing, “Vicious animal.”
Wren gave him a sunny smile. “Why, thank you.”
“Go slither into someone else’s bed.”
“Black talks in his sleep about dead people…and he kicks.” Wren curled his lip. “The rest are all occupied. Loudly occupied.”
Midas matched his disgust and shuddered. “I’m glad I lost my hearing.”
Wren laughed. He knew deep down Midas couldn’t be as cavalier about the ‘incident’ as he acted, but laughing was better than crying. “I don’t know if we all thought through this whole living-together-forever situation.”
Midas rolled his eyes. “Who said we had a choice with Hart and Fix around?”
“Hart tried to put one of those toddler leashes on me once,” Wren mused.
“How did that go?”
“I chewed through it.”
“Of course you did.” Midas snorted, his eyelids already drooping.
“You can sleep,” Wren said. “I’ll entertain myself.”
Midas slanted him a look. “With my things.”
“It was one time!”
“You put all my necklaces around your ducks’ necks.”
“It was Mrs. Waddlesworth’s birthday and the flock needed to be dressed for the occasion. She has expensive tastes. And I gave them back!”
Midas’s silent glare defied words.
“Capitalism has taken your soul,” Wren said.
“As it should.”
“You’re a slave to the machine.”
“And you’re a rebel without a cause.”
“I have a cause,” Wren signed before stroking Noodle’s silky head.
“Animals taking over the world, burning Nexus to the ground, and subjugating the human race is a little farfetched,” Midas managed to drawl with lazy, sarcastic hand movements.
“Hmph. You’ll see.”
Midas gave a disinterested shrug. “As long as you let me keep my jewelry when the time comes, do what you want.”
Wren rolled his eyes. “You can keep your hoard, dragon skinwalker.”
Midas snapped his teeth at him and Wren broke into quiet laughter that was interrupted by the buzz of his phone.
He frowned, searching around for the stupid device. This was about his thirtieth one, its predecessors either broken or left in various wildernesses without any care.
He pulled it from where it had slid under a pillow.
Stop deleting my fucking number and pick up flashed across the screen.
“Hello,” he mumbled.
“Why do you always take that tone with me? You’re going to hurt my feelings one of these days, pipsqueak,” Taylor said, voice groggy with sleep but sharp as ever with sass.
“I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Look, just because I don’t give a fuck what anybody says because I’m perfect doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings too, okay?
” she said brazenly. “Now, listen up. I’m pinging you over the details for a case that just came in.
Some woman swears there’s a rabid, cursed raccoon in her yard and won’t hear anything else even though it’s probably, most definitely, just a regular raccoon again.
So have fun with that. I’m getting my ass back to being spooned instead of putting up with this bullshit in the middle of the night. ”
She hung up and Wren sighed, rubbing his burning eyes.
“How long has it been since you slept?” Midas asked.
“I caught an hour or two…yesterday? Today?” Sometimes the days just blurred together. He began scooting off the bed, cradling Noodle and nudging a sleepy Blu to hop up on his finger. “I’ll be fine.”
“I won’t heckle you like Fix about driving while tired or show you a PSA like Hart, but I will mention it.”
Wren laughed it off. “When aren’t I tired? I think it would be more dangerous for me to drive when I was well rested.”
Midas pursed his lips. “Wren.”
Wren lifted Blu up so he could nestle into his hair and sleep some more. “I’m good, Midas. Worrying will give you wrinkles.”
“Good. Then people will leave me alone.”
“It’s going to take more than that to disband your fan club, my friend. You’d have to start by cutting off those luscious locks,” he teased.
Midas clutched his hair, scandalized by the thought.
Wren chuckled. “Even then it probably wouldn’t work. You were born with that face.”
“Without all the dirt, bandages, and animals that make grown men piss their pants you would have this problem too,” Midas grumbled. “You’re a walking doll.”
Wren stuck his tongue out and headed for the door, surprised when Midas slipped off the bed and followed close behind.
He looked over his shoulder and tilted his head in question.
“Be careful,” Midas signed.
Wren raised a brow. “Didn’t we just go over this? Did the spirit of Fix crawl up your ass?”
“Hope you crash.”
Wren grinned. “There he is.”
Midas laid a hand on his arm, then signed, “Seriously, though. It’s not about the driving. People in the city have been antsy lately.”
Wren didn’t often go into the city if he could help it. His presence in HQ, although mandatory, was something he avoided if he could find a good enough excuse, and his cases had been keeping him on the outskirts lately.
“Antsy?”
Midas nodded. “Nothing I can put my finger on exactly, but things have been getting strange.”
“I don’t think it could get stranger than finding out that curses can suddenly change or move, cursebreakers can be cursed, The Thousand Cuts myth is real, or that there’s this weird evil eye—which must be a cult—on the loose with some mysterious list of people that keeps popping up. Also, Nexus sucks ass.”
“I feel like that last thing wasn’t related to the rest.”
“I know,” Wren said. “I just wanted to say it.”
Midas almost laughed. It was a rare sight. “Just…keep your eyes peeled.”
“I have eyes in the back of my head, don’t worry about me.”
Midas glanced up at Blu and shook his head.
Wren made it back to his room silently, where he skimmed the case file on his phone before sliding Noodle back into his cage.
Teddy’s note fluttered to the ground and Wren panicked, nearly cracking his knees on the floor in his rush to pick it up. The sheer anxiety he felt wasn’t normal, the dark room swirling around him.
He rested his hand against the wall of rodent cages to his right, gerbils and chinchillas and hamsters all happily tottering around or running on wheels in the dark of the night.
Breathing came hard at first, before easing.
When he felt steadier, he placed the note back into his pocket safely and exited the room, heading straight out the front door.