Chapter 6 Wren #3
“Yup.” Wren stood up. “A snail.”
“I fucking swear this town will send me to an early grave,” Cyrus whispered. “A fucking snail.”
“I think we need to put a timeline up and see what it looks like,” Teddy said, standing up as well.
Wren followed his every move like a man starved, noting the similarities and the differences from the boy who used to be his.
It slashed his heart near in half to see that there were far more differences.
Teddy wasn’t as skinny anymore. His limbs weren’t as gangly. He moved with precision, his body filled out with time. He was stronger and surer. Commanding. There were lines around his eyes that spoke of a life filled with laughter, and his skin was golden from the sun and glowing.
Wren saw traces of the old Teddy in him as he walked around the table and arranged case files in a neat row, from the earliest they had to the latest one Wren had brought.
His hands were steady and strong like before.
His fingers careful and gentle.
Wren remembered the feel of both on his skin, around his shoulders.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. He had no right…not anymore.
“Okay, so,” Teddy said, pointing at the timeline he had created, “twelve cases overall, between Arcstead and Slatehollow.”
Cyrus stood up as well and loomed over the table.
“Well, it’s pretty clear this started in Arcstead and spilled over to Slatehollow,” Cyrus said.
“Other towns?” Saint asked.
Cyrus shook his head. “Nothing for now. I put an alert out in case anything similar crops up.” He was silent for a moment as he visibly ran through the cases in his head, hand scraping over his scruff. “Snake venom in all of your cases. A snail over here.”
“Makes sense,” Wren and Saint said at the same time, and while Saint tried smiling when their eyes met, Wren pinched his lips tight and looked away.
“How?” Cyrus asked.
“Most snake venom is more expensive,” Wren said. “It’s also stronger. Makes sense that Arcstead citizens can afford that.”
“The level of destruction in Slatehollow is also significantly larger,” Teddy said.
“Also makes sense,” Wren said. “Snake venoms are more stable under curses. Coil snail venom degrades fairly quickly under a curse, so the drug made from it would have unpredictable effects.”
“Could be more of a poison,” Saint said. Wren found himself nodding despite the need to just pretend Saint wasn’t there.
“What the fuck do we do, then? We have no known sellers, no source, no way to get intel…” Cyrus asked.
“That…might not be the case,” Teddy said.
“On our last case we found a button with a family crest. It had traces of a curse on it. Same curse that was on the venom we found. We think the person that button belonged to is the one causing all the damage under the influence. And we also think we know who they are.”
“Our plan is to do some undercover work and try to get some info out of him,” Saint said.
“You should have fucking led with that.” Cyrus clenched his fists by his hips as he glared at them. “You’re supposed to be better than the team I have here.”
“Fuck you!” came a voice from out the door.
“Black,” Cyrus growled. “Stop eavesdropping.”
“Did you tell them about the guy?” Black asked, still invisible to them but clearly somewhere close.
“What guy?”
“The guy who had his eyeballs eaten by a lizard!” Black said with a disturbing amount of glee in his voice.
“What the fuck does he have to do with anything?” Cyrus asked, one hand on his hip, the other pinching the bridge of his nose.
“The lizard was venomous, and the people close to the guy all swore up and down they had zero clue what happened. They noped out of coming to the police to talk, then bailed, never to be seen again.”
“That’s not—”
“That does have some similarities,” Saint said.
“You should totally look into that,” Black said.
“They’re not sending you pictures of his eaten eyeballs,” Cyrus said.
“Bold of you to assume I don’t already have them.”
“It was an Arcstead case, Black, how the fuck—”
“I’m not revealing my sources. But I do have a space in my scrapbook…”
“LEAVE!” Cyrus bellowed, and Wren heard sneakers squealing on the ugly linoleum floors as Black scampered away.
“He has a scrapbook?” Teddy asked.
“You don’t want to know,” Wren said automatically, the corners of his lips twitching up at Teddy’s smile.
For a moment, it was just them again. For a split second the chasm between them shrank.
“We can look into that case too,” Saint said, stealing that split second from Wren. He seemed to be getting into the habit of that. Stealing Teddy’s warmth. Stealing the spot beside him. That sweater…
“You’ll have your hands full,” Cyrus said. “Wren…you could go with them. Official consultant on the case?”
“No,” he said, his blood turning to ice at the thought. Of leaving everything he knew. His home, his animals, his sanctuary, his family. For someone he didn’t even know anymore. For someone who’d slipped through his fingers.
“Wren…” Cyrus said.
Wren shook his head. “I’ll work the case from here. I can be reached on my phone. I’ll keep everyone informed.”
“But—”
“Cyrus, I am offering cooperation. Take it while it’s on the table.” He stood up, Blu perching on his shoulder, Sable hopping silently to his feet next to him. He nodded to the room in general and walked out, hearing the door click shut behind him.
He power walked toward the exit, desperate to get away. Just to not be so close…
“Litt—Wren…wait,” Teddy called after him and Wren closed his eyes, legs refusing to move him any farther.
Sable pressed into his side, offering support, but there was none to be found. Teddy had always been his undoing. Time hadn’t changed that.
He turned around slowly, taking a few steps back just to maintain the distance between them. Just to escape that scent he still used; cedarwood pervading his senses and making his head spin.
“What?” he asked, watching as Teddy fidgeted and looked him over as if he couldn’t believe he was seeing him again.
“Did you…? I just wanted to ask if you’d read my letters?”
Wren swallowed. “I did. I get it.”
“You do?”
Wren nodded. “Nexus comes first. We always knew that.”
“That’s not—” Teddy started, but Wren needed to be away from him now. He’d had his fill of memories and aches and wants. He was strong, but he had his limits.
“We can work this case without our past interfering with it or our lives. We’re both adults with people around us affected by what we do. We can keep it professional for them.”
“Professional,” Teddy said, and Wren knew he had to be projecting the gutted look on his face.
“Yes.” He clutched at Sable’s fur as he prepared himself to walk away. Something ugly crept up his throat before he could leave though. “He looks good in your sweater.”
I used to wear your clothes. I used to wrap myself up in your scent and pretend it could just be us. It used to be me, he thought as he looked away.
“My…my sweater?”
“You wore that sweater when you gave me the letters.” Wren turned away. “I’ll be in touch about the case.”
“Wren…” Teddy called but he shook his head and kept walking, tears burning in his eyes, his chest feeling like it’d explode.