12. Cal
CHAPTER 12
CAL
I’m sorry, but what ?
I’d felt the connection take hold, but I’d tried not to worry about it. Greg had told me being mates was optional, which meant the connection could be broken, right?
Except it seemed Edgar could see the connection somehow, and he thought it was super strong. Blindingly strong.
Would I have to move to Canada to break the connection with Greg? I didn’t think Steve would be too happy if I worked that remotely.
Greg, when I turned my head around to check, didn’t look pleased either. Not that I’d expected him to—he’d practically twisted himself into a pretzel to avoid touching me all day.
“Um,” I said. “We didn’t meet each other until this morning. We didn’t touch until he passed out when Thomas died.”
Edgar gaped at me just a little too long to be safe since he was driving. I pointed at the road, and he returned to staring out the windshield.
“Well,” he said hesitantly. “It appears you resonate with each other quite, uh, vigorously. ”
Greg didn’t say anything.
Well, fuck him. I needed information.
“Edgar, does this mean our connection is permanent? Or if we don’t see each other will it kind of dry up?”
Edgar glanced back at Greg and then at me, but it seemed like he was tracking a line between us rather than looking at our faces.
He cleared his throat. “I think the campaign would be the poorer to lose a connection as strong as yours, but, uh, in the event you choose not to pursue a bond, you’d need to stay away from each other, yes.”
Greg’s phone rang. He answered it, greeting someone named Barbara. He listened for a moment, then he said, “Great news. Thank you for letting me know.”
His voice did not sound excited.
When he hung up, Edgar didn’t pretend not to be curious. “Good news, Greg?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. I put an offer in on a house, and it was accepted.”
Edgar grinned widely. “I see Delphia was right after all. You are nesting.”
Greg made a weird hissing noise. I turned to look, and he was scowling at the back of Edgar’s head. “My apartment is noisy as fuck. You’ve been there; you know this. I wanted to move. There’s nothing more to it.”
Edgar hummed but didn’t respond.
Great. More crap I wasn’t in the know about.
“Nesting?” I asked, looking between Greg and Edgar .
Greg turned his head to gaze out the window like a pouting toddler.
Edgar, though, smiled. “Magic-carriers, like—for instance—District Monitors, exhibit a kind of subconscious foreknowledge when they are about to meet, uh, a very compatible person.”
“Greg mentioned that. He said it happens when their mate is going to show up? And it’s called nesting? As in creating a nest?”
He grinned wider and nodded. “Some will merely rearrange their furniture or clean out their closets. But others will go so far as to move.”
“Huh.” I couldn’t think of anything more to add.
Edgar drove us to the pet resort so I could pick up my truck. I followed them to Greg’s apartment building and parked in a visitor spot. My ancient Ford had looked out of place among the fancy cars the pet resort customers drove, but it was right at home in Greg’s parking garage.
The drive over was in no way enough time to process everything that had happened today, so I decided I needed to distill it down to a to-do list. I wished I had my white board, but I had to make do with dictating into the notes app on my phone.
“Okay, number one: figure out what the fog monster is. No, that’s number two. Number one is to give Greg the questions to ask the other DMs about other Wonders dying recently.” I was frustrated at not being able to question the other DMs myself. But I knew how to delegate effectively, and I’d make sure it got done .
“Number three is to remind Edgar to find out about the psychic who can get info from objects.” Hopefully he’d still be alive, but it sounded like he’d be too old to travel. Taking Thomas’ water bottle to Idaho would be a huge time suck, but it might be necessary.
“Number four is to make a list of all the questions I have so far regarding magic and Wonders, etc. Especially find out if I’m magically married forever to Greg, or if it can be undone.” Though Edgar had implied it was permanent.
I swallowed against the lump in my throat. I’d always known it was a long shot that I’d end up with someone. But I’d have been far happier staying single the rest of my life than being tied to a man who found me repulsive.
I flashed to the vision I’d had of the man kissing me on the cheek. Was that supposed to have been Greg? I didn’t see how. People don’t suddenly go from being icked out by someone to finding them attractive.
Feeling adrift and unwanted, I opened my text thread with Steve and Felix. Edgar and Greg would have to wait for me to go up to the apartment when I was ready.
Steve, I need the rest of the week off work. I can help out with a few things here and there remotely if needed though. I told you Greg and I managed to head off the woman in my vision from this morning, so she’s fine, but the killer got someone else. Oh, and it looks like I accidentally got magic-married to Greg, but he made it clear he won’t touch me with a ten-foot pole.
Felix
Um, I have many, many questions, but first, are you okay?
No
Felix
Do you want to Facetime?
No. I mean, yes, but I have to go help Greg and his uncle find this killer
Felix
Can Steve and I can help you with any part of that?
No, but thanks for offering
Felix
[GIF of two cats hugging]
Steve
Helen Hunt’s handbasket, dude! Are you in danger from this killer?
I don’t think so. So far it’s gone after paranormal beings like the shifter I told you about
Steve
Okay, well if Felix and I can’t help you with that, can we at least beat the crap out of Greg? And you know I know a former hitman. I’m sure he’d come out of retirement if I asked him to
Thanks, but no, lol. I’m going to figure out how to get magic-divorced, but the killer is more of a priority right now
Thanks for chatting with me, y’all. I just needed to be normal for a few minutes.
Felix
Any time, and Greg is an idiot. I’m *very* disappointed in him!
Steve
We’re here for you, ma n
Texting with Felix and Steve had put me back on a more even keel. I was braced to deal with Greg and Edgar again.
And I had my to-do list.
I locked my phone and got out of the truck. There was a trash can by the elevator, so I got back in and scooped up the coffee cups and bakery bag from the floorboards. The bits of trash in the bed of the truck would have to wait until I could go to the car wash, but cleaning up the cab gave me a small feeling of accomplishment.
I dodged no less than three twenty-something bro-dudes on the way to Greg’s apartment. Nesting aside, I completely understood why he was moving. This apartment building didn’t fit him at all.
I walked in to find Edgar ordering Chinese food. He queried my preferences then submitted the order.
“Okay,” he said. “We have thirty minutes before the food gets here. What can we get done?”
I said, “I want Greg to ask my questions to the other DMs. Then I want us to look at the info I found on the borda and see if we think that could be what we’re facing or if there are any other possibilities.”
They both nodded. Edgar went into the kitchen to get us some drinks. Greg and I got out our laptops and set them on the dining table. He sat at one end, and I sat at the other. As far away as we could get.
I texted Greg the questions I wanted him to ask his DM buddies, then I opened the spreadsheet I’d started to document stories of creatures who used fog to kill or camouflage themselves. It was painfully sparse.
Edgar set the glass of ice water I’d requested down beside me. I thanked him. He’d poured himself a glass of wine .
“Tell me about this borda creature,” he said, sitting down next to me.
I grimaced. “There just isn’t much information about them. Or her. I’m not sure if there’s supposed to be more than one. But a borda is always a woman, and she’s usually blindfolded for some reason. If you met her, she would kill you, but none of the information I’ve found so far says how she kills people. The tales were used to scare children so they wouldn’t go near swamps or foggy places.”
Edgar made a face. “That seems pretty thin. I don’t think it’s enough to decide definitively whether our fog monster is a borda .”
I spread out my hands. “It’s all I can find.”
Edgar texted Delphia to see if she had a contact in Idaho so we could find out if the “reader” psychic was still around. I couldn’t understand why they didn’t have overlapping Discord servers or some other method of staying in touch. If this killer had been in another state or another country before coming to Texas, we might never find out.
While we ate, I questioned Edgar and Greg about Wonders and different types of magic carriers. I was dying to ask about the connection between Greg and me, but I saved that topic for another time.
Eventually Edgar pushed back from the table. “Let me go meditate for a few minutes to clear my head, and then I’ll attempt to call a vision. What is the most vital thing we want to know?”
I glanced at Greg before saying, “What the fog killer is. Right?”
Edgar shook his head. “Even with a bond, I can’t see someone’s identity if I’ve never met them. And if the fog monster has a human form, I’ll probably only see someone who looks like a generic human.”
Greg said, “You could try to see where the fog monster is.”
The three of us looked at each other and shrugged.
I said, “I can’t think of anything better.”
We stood up. Edgar headed for what I assumed was the guest bedroom.
“I’ll lower the lights in here,” said Greg. He told me, “Not every Seer needs to meditate or have dim lighting to call a vision, but Edgar finds it helpful.”
I put the takeout containers in the kitchen trash bin while he walked around and turned off every light except one small table lamp.
After a few minutes, Edgar came back and sat in the center of the couch, putting his wine glass and his phone on the coffee table in front of him. Greg and I flanked him in the armchairs. I had to admit, with the low lighting, the blue and green color scheme made it seem like we were sitting in some Caribbean ocean grotto. Greg, of course, looked like some sort of seductive sea god.
Edgar said, “Cal, what I will do now is concentrate on the question of where the fog monster is. At the same time I will open up my magic, so it can show me the vision.”
That didn’t mean anything to me, but I guessed it was good to know.
Edgar put his hands in his lap, closed his eyes, and breathed in and out in a regular rhythm. I wished I’d asked how long this would take.
Greg and I stared tensely at Edgar, waiting for a sign he was having a vision. I actually had no idea what that looked like from the outside. All of mine were in my sleep, and I’d never had a sleepover with anyone. Sex, when I decided it was worth the effort, was about getting off and getting out. I didn’t cuddle, and I didn’t fall asleep.
Edgar sat up straight, his eyes almost bugging out. He gasped, then blinked and rubbed his chest.
I leaned forward. “Are you alright?”
He shuddered and put his arms around himself. “No, I’m not. There isn’t just one fog monster. There are at least three.”