25. Cal
CHAPTER 25
CAL
Greg told his phone to dial Mia back. It was a little after 9pm so hopefully she’d be allowed to answer her cell.
Greg muttered, “Please, please, please.”
The call went to voicemail. Fuck.
I offered, “Maybe she’s closing up or whatever. Still working. That could take a while, right?” We were 25 minutes away.
He dialed again. And again. Miraculously, on the third try, she answered.
“Hello?” Shit she sounded young.
“Mia, this is Greg Shaw. Did you get my voicemail?”
“Noooo? I just got off work.”
Greg said urgently, “Do not leave the building. Mia, please tell me you’re still indoors!”
“What? I mean, I am. I’m at my locker. Why?”
“Several Wonders have been murdered. A Seer—he’s with me; his name is Cal—he saw the next attack will be tonight in the parking lot of a Build Barn. ”
“ What? Are you serious?”
“Mia, this is Cal. Do you drive a small sedan, and did you park it next to a light pole toward the back of the parking lot?”
“Y-yeah. It was busy when I got here. That was the closest I could park.”
Greg leaned forward, shifting his grip on the steering wheel. “It’s okay. You’ll be fine as long as you stay inside. We’ll be there in... 23 minutes.”
“But Mr. Cruz—he’s the manager—he’s waiting on me so he can lock up and go home.”
“Tell him you have a stalker and we’re worried he’s coming after you.”
I suggested, “Tell him we’re your uncles and we’re picking you up.”
“Okay, hang on.”
We heard the sound of jogging footsteps, then a hushed conversation.
A man’s voice came on the line.
“Hello, this is Francisco Cruz. Who am I speaking with?” Mr. Cruz sounded like he might’ve spent some time in the military.
“Hi, Mr. Cruz. My name is Greg Shaw, and I have my boyfriend Cal Steadham with me.”
“And you are Mia’s uncles, is that correct? I’m confused because when she interviewed, she told me she didn’t know anyone in the area.”
Well, fuck .
Greg sighed loudly. “You’re right, we’re technically not related, and I’m sorry I told Mia to lie to you. I’m a friend of her family and Cal is my boyfriend. Mia has a stalker, and her family has credible information that he’s going to try something tonight when she leaves work. We’re coming to pick her up, but we’re 21 minutes out.”
“I’m happy to walk her to her car and follow her home.”
Oh, fuck. All we needed was an NPC getting killed.
“Thank you for offering, but, ah, the stalker has friends. And you’d be putting yourself in danger.”
“Uh huh. What about the danger you’ll be in after you pick her up? This plan doesn’t seem well thought out.”
Dude, you have no idea.
Greg and I exchanged glances.
I said, “Mr. Cruz, this is Cal. I understand where you’re coming from, but let me ask you this. In the parking lot where Mia parked her car, is that light out?”
We heard walking and breathing noises.
“Fuck me,” Cruz said. “It’s out.”
“Mr. Cruz, we’ve got other friends on their way to caravan home with us. It’ll be safer for Mia if you wouldn’t mind waiting with her until we get there.”
Greg said, “Please. Just nineteen more minutes, and we’ll be out of your hair.”
Oops. That was another lie. What were the chances Mr. Cruz wouldn’t look out at the parking lot when we went to confront the fog monsters?
Mr. Cruz finally agreed to wait for us to arrive and Greg hung up .
I said, “We’re gonna have to draw out the fog monsters.”
“Yeah. We need to get a look at them if nothing else.”
“I hope Mr. Cruz has an open mind.”
Greg barked a laugh.
I reached for his hand, and we drove in silence for the next eighteen minutes.
This Build Barn was a couple of blocks off the highway on the edge of Wimberley. The parking lot, as I’d seen in my vision, backed up to forested areas. Just like the cemetery. Just like the park bench.
There was a large pickup truck at the far end of the first row of parking spaces. The little sedan—which had to be Mia’s—sat under a non-working pole light in the far corner. Exactly as I’d seen in my vision.
Ms. Jackson hung her head over my shoulder to look through the windshield. They growled.
“Yep,” I said.
Greg drove toward Mia’s car.
“Greg, if I don’t survive this?—”
“Nope!” He held up a hand. “We’re not doing that. We’re going to make it through this and have hot, filthy sex later to celebrate.”
We were a few yards away from Mia’s car and out of time.
After he stopped the car and put it in Park, I handed the mek’leth to Greg. We’d decided the smaller weapon would be easier for him to wield.
I said, “Ms. Jackson, I’ll open the back door for you, and you can do as you please from there. ”
They chuffed.
I turned to Greg. “Ready?”
He leaned in and kissed me quickly. “Ready.”
We threw open our doors. I didn’t bother shutting mine. I held the bat’leth out defensively, scanning the trees for attackers. Not seeing anything, I moved to the rear passenger door and used my left hand to open it. Then I followed Greg toward Mia’s car.
“Come on out, assholes!” Greg shouted. “We know you’re there. You’re not killing anyone tonight.”
I tried to control my breathing, but my heart was pounding. Greg had tried to be positive in the car, but I knew there was a damn good chance one or both of us would die tonight.
Fog began to ooze out from between the trees.
Without speaking, Greg and I put our backs to each other, leaving a few feet between us. I hoped Lloyd and the other Wonders got here soon.
Greg cried out, and I spun around. A man... thing had yanked him off his feet. It bit into his neck. Greg’s body jerked, and the mek’leth fell to the ground.
“No!” I roared, lifting my bat’leth and rushing toward the monster. It dropped Greg, his blood covering its face and chest. I swung the bat’leth in a tight arc, but it danced back.
Shit, that was a lot of blood. The monster backed away again, leading me further from Greg. It appeared mostly human except for the red eyes and giant fucking fangs sticking out of its mouth. And according to Edgar’s vision, there could be at least two more of these assholes out here.
“Ms. Jackson! Protect Greg! ”
Movement to my right. I spun, holding the bat’leth horizontally as another monster rushed me.
“Fuck!” I caught it across the arm with the blade, but it dodged away before I could do any real damage.
A third one ran toward where Ms. Jackson crouched over Greg. Ms. Jackson shimmered, and they were now a fucking giant green dragon, with huge jaws and enormous teeth and claws. Greg’s body looked tiny crumpled on the ground under their legs.
Ms. Jackson spread their wings and hissed at the monsters, who suddenly didn’t seem quite as large as they had a moment ago.
But Greg was very still.
I turned away before I got too distracted. I understood implicitly that Ms. Jackson was acting as Greg’s bodyguard only. It was up to me to take out these three fuckers.
As they circled, trying to get behind me, I did not feel confident about my survival.
But, I told myself, they didn’t need to know that. And if I had to go out this way, they were going out with me.
I raised my bat’leth, and the Klingon words came automatically. “ Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam! ” I shouted, swinging at the closest monster. It was a good day to die.
The other two ran at me, but before I could bring my bat’leth up to block them, someone sped past me on my left, swinging the mek’leth in one hand and pointing a gun in the other.
He fired, and the first monster, the one that had attacked Greg, went down. The others pivoted to face this new opponent .
He shot again but missed this time. The two monsters bared their fangs at him and hissed. He grinned at them. “Good to see you again, boys.”
They ran at him. He fired then swung the mek’leth. One of the monsters howled when he was hit.
I backed up, looking for an opening where I could help. My savior sparkled with magic but didn’t have a second self. He was tall and skinny, with chin-length hair that glinted auburn in the parking lot lights. He was vaguely familiar, but I’d figure that out later.
Someone moved in my peripheral vision, and I swung around, holding the bat’leth between me and the new threat. About twenty feet away was a dark-haired forty-something guy wearing a green Build Barn polo. In one hand he held a first aid kit, and in the other he was pointing what might have been a nail gun toward the fog monsters. A little wide-eyed, he gestured the first aid kit toward Greg.
I whirled back to the fight. The fog monsters had moved so they were between the skinny guy and Greg and Ms. Jackson, which meant the skinny guy couldn’t use his gun without risking hitting them. He dropped it on the ground and, now gripping the mek’leth two-handed, ran toward the other two.
He was so fast I could barely keep track of him. The fog monsters fought back, and they didn’t seem to have any trouble matching his speed. Luckily they weren’t paying any attention to me. I kept my bat’leth up and hoped the skinny guy could fight them off.
The fog monsters came at him from the sides, coordinating their attacks to slash at him with their claws. But the mek’leth gave him an advantage, extending his reach. He got a good slice across the thigh of one fog monster, and he continued his motion, spinning and laying open the other fog monster’s right arm.
They fell back, clutching at their wounds, but the skinny guy charged, mek’leth raised. The two fog monsters turned and ran for the trees, the one with the leg wound limping but still incredibly fast. The skinny guy let them go, and as they reached the edge of the parking lot, fog surrounded them, and they vanished.
The skinny guy craned his neck around, examining himself and plucking at his clothes.
“Are you injured?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I’m good.” He trotted over to where he’d dropped his gun. He picked it up, flipped the safety, and tucked the gun into the back of his pants. He held up the mek’leth, now dripping with blood. “This thing is awesome. Can I keep it?”
“Uh, sure. Knock yourself out.” I dropped the bat’leth and sprinted over to Greg.
Ms. Jackson remained in her dragon form, but she’d moved to one side and was watching intently as Mr. Cruz, I assumed, pressed gauze to Greg’s neck.
I sank to my knees. Greg was paler than I’d ever seen him, his chest barely moving. I swallowed a sob. Not the time. I could break down later.
Mr. Cruz said, “He’s lost too much blood. The, uh, dragon didn’t want me to call an ambulance.” He glanced nervously up at Ms. Jackson. “But I’m pretty sure he needs a transfusion.”
I picked up Greg’s hand from where it was lying on the pavement. I couldn’t feel much through the connection. His magic was almost nonexistent, and I could only barely feel the tiniest whisper of Greg . An icy bolt of fear shot through my chest. I couldn’t lose Greg. Not so soon after I’d found him.
The guy who’d run off the fog monsters stopped next to Greg’s feet. He had the dead one casually tossed over one shoulder, with the mek’leth sticking out of its back like an axe buried in a stump. “Thanks for the blade. I have some questions for this guy, but then I gotta cut off his head to make sure he stays dead, you know.” He patted the fog monster on the ass.
Mr. Cruz grunted. “I guess vampires aren’t too far-fetched after everything else.”
I glanced at him, then back to our rescuer. “They’re vampires ?” My voice may have been a little high.
The guy grinned, revealing fangs just like the ones the monsters had. “ We’re vampires.”
I gaped at him.
He looked down at Greg. “Oh, hey,” he said. “Glad to see you found your guy. Sorry it wasn’t me; we could’ve had fun. You’d better start bonding with him so he doesn’t die.” He tilted his head back and saluted Ms. Jackson. “Congratulations on leveling up. Unexpected but welcome. Good luck, y’all.”
He jogged across the parking lot into the trees where the monsters had gone, semi-dead vampire bouncing on his shoulder.
“Do you know that guy?” asked Mr. Cruz.
A car’s headlights washed over us, and I heard it accelerate in our direction.
I glanced upward. “Ms. Jackson, that, uh, guy said I need to bond with Greg. Any idea how I do that, since we obviously can’t have sex?” I was not having sex with an unconscious Greg.
The Ouija board appeared in the dragon’s chest. No flashed.
“Shit.” I hugged Greg’s hand to my chest, pressing my lips together.
A car door slammed, and footsteps pounded as Lloyd ran up. “What happened? How is that a dragon? Wait, never mind. What happened to Greg?” He looked between Ms. Jackson, who loomed over us all, Mr. Cruz, and Greg.
A girl who didn’t look more than twenty years old skidded to a stop next to Mr. Cruz. She was wearing a green Build Barn polo. Mia. Her second self was a large reptile of some sort.
Mr. Cruz, still putting pressure on Greg’s neck, summed it up for them. “Vampire ripped the side of his neck. He’s bleeding pretty badly. Dragon won’t let me call an ambulance. Friendly vampire said this guy—” he nodded at me. “—has to bond with this one, whatever that means. But no one knows how, because there’s usually sex involved?”
“I know how,” Mia said.
Lloyd nodded. “It’s doable.”
I could’ve passed out from relief as they knelt next to me.
Lloyd said, “Cal, has Greg indicated that he... is in favor of bonding?”
I nodded impatiently. “He asked me to move in with him already. He told me we would end up together permanently.”
“Good enough for me,” said Mia.
“Agreed,” Lloyd said. “We need to get Greg’s shirt off. Take yours off too, Cal. ”
Lloyd rummaged through the first aid kit and produced a scalpel while I stripped off my sweaty “I Paused my Game to Be Here” t-shirt.
Mia said, “I’m ace. Sex is how most people complete the bonding, but my grandfather told me it’s not the only way. The main point is the exchange of pheromones and the intent. Is this Greg?” She patted his ankle and I nodded. “Right. The intent will be the hard part. Since Greg isn’t able to tell his magic he wants to bond with you right now, you have to convince it that he does. And at the same time, you have to exchange pheromones.”
Lloyd efficiently sliced one sleeve off Greg’s blood-soaked button-down and stretched his arm to the side. “One armpit ready to go.”
Dimly I was aware of other people gathering around.
Lloyd said, “Cal, you have to smell his armpit, and at the same time mingle your magic with Greg’s and push your intent into it. Like she said, make sure his magic understands what you want to do and get it to consent. Then we have to get Greg to breathe in from your armpit while you keep up with the magic and the intent.”
“Got it.”
I hoped I got the chance to make Greg laugh later while I told him this story, but right now I was grimly focused on getting the bonding done before he lost too much blood.
My heart pounding, I arranged myself in a kind of partial plank pose straddling Greg with my ass in the air, careful not to put any weight on him.
Fantine appeared next to Mr. Cruz, and she set a bag down next to her before kneeling. “Veterinarian,” she said to him and began pulling more gauze out of the bag .
“Good, he might need stitches.”
“Let me take a look.”
I eased myself down so my face was in Greg’s armpit. He stank a little, probably from nervous sweat before he was knocked out. I imagined I smelled worse, but nothing mattered except forming this bond to heal Greg.
Getting my nose up in there so I didn’t miss any pheromones, I closed my eyes and reached for my magic.
Before I could even visualize it, I was distracted by how warm my ass suddenly felt. I pushed up on my arms and looked over my shoulder at Ms. Jackson. “Give me some room. I can’t focus.”
They somehow managed to look contrite and jerked their head back up in the air.
Karla, standing behind Fantine, shouted. “That goes for all of you. If you’re not doing anything constructive here, back the fuck up!” She demonstrated by moving back about ten feet.
I felt the rest of the onlookers giving us space, and I relaxed. “Thanks.”
I returned to my awkward stance over Greg’s still form so I could get my face in his pit, touching my forehead to his skin. He didn’t have much armpit hair, fortunately. I could smell his deodorant and sweat, but plenty of musky man scent as well.
My shoulders and arms were screaming, but I kept my position. I took a deep breath and reached for the magic again. This time it came easily, and I could see Greg’s wheel spinning sluggishly and sparkling very faintly next to my stronger one. Surely he hadn’t used that much magic replenishing mine earlier. Maybe he was burning through it trying to stay alive .
His wheel did seem to be feeding off the multitudes of tiny lines of unfamiliar magic linked into it, merging and joining his as it turned.
Wait. I’d pushed my magic into Ms. Jackson, and Greg had pushed his into me.
I ducked out of his armpit again. Looking at the crowd, I yelled “Hey! Everybody! Greg’s magic is seriously depleted. I need all of you who are connected to him to push some magic—it doesn’t have to be much—into him. Just find the connection and imagine yourself sending magic through it to Greg. Make sure it’s only a little bit from each of you. All of it will add up and help him.” There were some surprised faces, but most people immediately nodded and closed their eyes.
I bent back down and closed my own eyes again, urging my magic to mingle with Greg’s while asking his magic to weave into mine. I intended our magics to combine, to bond. I pushed my certainty that Greg wanted this bonding.
His magic absorbed my efforts for several seconds, but then it formed a sort of wall, blocking me from pushing anything else, magic or intent, into it. I got the distinct impression I’d been placed on hold while it processed my request.
“Fuck!” Didn’t it understand if we didn’t bond, Greg would probably die?
Determinedly I pulled away and rotated my body carefully around Greg’s. I knelt next to his left arm and leaned across him, putting one forearm on the ground next to his right shoulder. The pavement dug into my skin, but I ignored it.
Fantine moved so I had enough space to put my hairy pit directly on Greg’s nose, but I was able to position myself so as not to disturb Mr. Cruz and his crucial pressure on Greg’s wound .
Because I was trying not to crush him, Greg’s nose touching my pit was our only skin-to-skin contact.
“His pulse is getting slower,” Fantine warned.
Mr. Cruz said, “But he’s still breathing. Just do what you need to do.”
I nodded in thanks. Then I shut my eyes and concentrated on the magic again.
This time Greg’s magic was waiting for me. It had decided to allow the bonding, agreeing and consenting. I pushed the same consent back. Greg’s magic wheel rotated faster, now slightly brighter and more energetic with the others feeding their magic into it.
Our wheels synchronized, matching speeds, before blending together into one larger wheel. It was beautiful, with small sparks of color here and there. The lines from Greg’s connected Wonders now linked to our joined magic, and if I thought about it, I could get a sense of the person on the other end of each one.
But most of all I could feel Greg, his presence even stronger than I’d experienced before when we’d only been connected. Now it was like I could dip in and out of his mind at will. If I tried, I could probably access his memories. And I could sense his consciousness, trapped deeper than merely asleep.
I tried mentally nudging him. I tried shouting into his mind, but he didn’t stir.
My arms were shaking, and I needed to change position.
But I’d done it. Greg and I were bonded.
I just hoped it wasn’t too late.
I opened my eyes. “We’re bonded,” I croaked. “Somebody help me up. ”
Some soft cheers and murmurs came from the crowd, along with the unmistakable sound of a phone taking a picture.
“What the fuck was that? Who took a fucking picture?” I roared over my shoulder at them.
“Um, sorry!” said a woman whose voice sounded vaguely familiar. “Delphia’s asking for an update on Discord, and I thought she’d like a memento of your bonding....”
Several people started to talk over each other, so I decided to ignore it.
Lloyd came over and put his hands under my arms, taking most of my weight as he pulled me back to a sitting position next to Fantine. Shifters were fucking strong.
“Thanks,” I said. I clutched Greg’s hand in both of mine. He didn’t look any different, just slightly less bloody since a lot had rubbed off on me. He was still unconscious.
I glanced at Lloyd, then at Fantine. “The bond took. What’s supposed to happen now? Why isn’t he waking up?”