14. Chapter Fourteen
William
Shadows hugged the streets of Alogan. They swerved in and out of sight, strengthening in the alleys where animals scrounged for scraps.
The chattering of claws on stone, the flickering of lanterns, and the songs drifting from open pub doorways made William’s teeth grind.
They had been in the open all day and into night, inspecting the outer banks for beasts meant to be dead.
Years ago, Alogan’s streets put life in his lungs, but now he wanted to conceal himself in a room safe from prying eyes.
Nicholas touched his hand. He crossed his arms to shield himself in more ways than one. A protection from Nicholas and his warped mind that worsened after the sun set. Nicholas hadn’t witnessed one of his episodes. If it were up to him, he would ensure Nicholas never would.
As promised, Nicholas worked throughout the day.
More like walked, because neither of them heard or saw anything.
He guided Nicholas to the locations his patients may have gone missing, but they observed nothing or anyone suspicious.
Seeming to consider the work done, Nicholas disregarded personal space as if it never existed.
His eyes reflected William, a mirror dedicated to him entirely.
That attention worsened his paranoia about being out in the open for so long.
A fae could track disciples easier than he ever could.
Nicholas was his best defense, but that defense had far too much on his mind to be reliable.
William didn’t have a pistol on him. He had two knives, one tucked into his right boot and the other under his cloak at his back. They were better than nothing, but not the best defense against shadowed disciples. Arguably, pistols weren’t of much use either.
“Your hair is longer,” Nicholas spoke a little breathlessly, like he resented time for daring to escape them.
William tugged at a strand of his hair. “Is that a problem?”
“I like it.”
He bit back a smile. “You look relatively the same.”
“And is that a problem?”
“No. I like it.”
“You still smell like disinfectant, though,” Nicholas added, causing him to roll his eyes.
“Doctors tend to smell like that.”
A man coughed from the alley. He grabbed his knife, knuckles bone white against the handle. The man’s silhouette stretched, his fingers long and stained. Blood, blacker than ink, dripped from his growing fangs, ripping through his lips. He stumbled forward, feet sinking into crimson snow.
“William.” A hand caught his chin. He met Nicholas’ gaze, a fierce violet, but within, a dull, familiar ashen pink hue that eased the discomfort coiling in his mind.
“I lost the ring. I realized a day or so after I woke up in the hospital that it was gone.”
He wasn’t sure why that slipped out. The ring Nicholas gifted him during the war, that hid him from prying eyes so they could have their midnight rendezvous, had meant nothing.
Rather, the ring wasn’t meant to have meaning, but for weeks after waking, he touched his ring finger or searched his pockets to find disappointment.
He felt foolish, childish, like he apologized to his parents for losing a new toy.
Nicholas smiled, soft and sweet. “Would you have kept the ring if you still had it?”
“Yes.” He licked his dry lips. “It was useful.”
Nicholas saw through the lie, but played along. “Shall I make you another, then? A more permanent one.”
Warmed, William swerved around him. “You’re getting ahead of yourself.”
Another noise from the right had him swinging toward it. A woman stumbled through the alley, intoxicated enough to be smelled from a distance. Giggling, she waved and wandered away, singing horribly off key. He lowered his weapon, knuckles aching from the tension.
“You are paranoid,” Nicholas said.
“How observant,” he replied, struggling to catch his breath.
He didn’t like it here, feeling as unsafe as he did in the Deadlands.
He never wanted those feelings to follow him home.
Foolishly, he thought living as a civilian would become easier, that it would take away his nightmares.
Alas, nothing stopped shadows from creeping in or familiar faces of terror.
Though he slayed his monsters, they lived on through him in nightmares.
“You always wanted to come home,” said Nicholas. “But you don’t seem too happy to be here.”
“I am happy,” he corrected, even if the words weighed on his tongue.
“Oh, are you hiding that happiness, then? When do you plan to share it?”
He didn’t warrant that with a response.
At the end of the street, a lantern struggled to illuminate the sharp curve.
They left the warehouses and docks some time ago, moving closer to the less secluded parts of the city.
That didn’t lessen his nerves, but heightened them because there was more noise that could hide the more nefarious sounds.
Drunkards sang from open tavern doors. Musicians played on street corners.
Locals wandered home from work or to a shop for the night out.
Among them, monsters could be hidden watching their every move.
“How about a drink to calm your nerves?” Nicholas nodded at a pub where a group of men battled their way through the front door, seeming to challenge who could get in first.
“We aren’t out here to drink,” he answered, even if his throat itched for one. Alcohol became too common in his life, necessary to take if he wanted even an hour of rest.
“That could be part of your problem. You focus on work too much, always have.” Nicholas took his hand, and it felt right, like everything he wanted. “Besides, you said we would also test my limits tonight. We have done little of that yet, at least not to my knowledge.”
Nicholas was right. He had been so caught up in work and paranoia that he hadn’t noted Nicholas’ demeanor at all.
“One drink won’t spell our end,” Nicholas said.
“You are…”
“Trouble.” The name fell beautifully from Nicholas’ lips, like a prayer, a hope that William would call him that again and again.
“Always trouble… one drink.” A drink may sway his mind long enough to prevent Nicholas from seeing how broken he had become.
Together, they walked to the pub where their hands fell free in the light. Singing patrons greeted them upon entering the charming interior. While smelling of rum and sweat, that didn’t detract from the comforting lantern light nor the playful bard dancing from tabletop to tabletop.
He found a corner at the back, darkened slightly where others may not notice Nicholas, though most were likely too drunk to realize he was fae in the light.
“We don’t have pubs in Faerie,” Nicholas explained as they sat. “But I find them rather charming.”
“I’m surprised. Fae love to drink. All they did during the war was fight and party.”
“Oh yes, we throw revels at our home or in the fields. No one has built an establishment for food and drink, although I imagine it may not perform as well in Faerie. There is always at least one death at a revel and much destruction.”
He actually laughed, having not forgotten Nicholas’ strange tales of Faerie, and thus found the story believable. “This may be too tame for you, then.”
“I have no quarrels, so long as I am with you.”
He watched carefully, feeling awful to treat their time like an experiment.
He had to know if being together would lead to catastrophe.
With an illness, one tested methods to discover what caused harm and what healed.
He had to do the same for Nicholas, although he wasn’t sure it would be of any help.
“Is that truly all you want, to be with me? You do not have other desires?” he asked.
Nicholas perched his elbows on the table, smiling with all his teeth.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” he muttered.
“Because you’re picking me apart like a puzzle trying to get answers. Because you want me, or rather, what we had. That comforts me,” Nicholas replied fondly.
A tavern girl came to the table. She didn’t realize Nicholas was fae until she already spoke.
He paid her no mind, focused entirely on William, who ordered for them.
She ran into a patron in her rush to leave the table, resulting in a spill of ale.
The commotion did nothing to deter Nicholas’ attention.
“I want you to lead the best life you can,” William muttered and gave the poor tavern girl a kind smile when she shakily delivered their meal.
“My best life will be one spent with you.” Nicholas drank, then smacked his lips together.
“How romantic, but you didn’t answer my question.”
Nicholas ran a finger along the rim of his pint.
“There are moments where my mind wanders, but ultimately, I think of you. I imagine us traveling, seeing both of our worlds while hand in hand, and I wonder if,” he licked his lips, suddenly nervous, “if your family could accept me and I could be a part of that.”
What a beautiful future that William desired more than ever. That also meant Nicholas didn’t always perceive his family as obstacles. What happened the other day may not happen again. Nicholas wanted to be part of his family and if they could achieve that, maybe they could…
“Would you really like that? My family are mortals and they aren’t exactly, uh…”
“Aren’t like fae,” Nicholas finished for him. “Which means they would be kind, as you described them, and yes, I do think I’d like that.”
He warmed at the image of Nicholas seated at their dining table surrounded by family who loved and accepted them both as they were. It was the dream, the perfect happy ending that he wasn’t so sure he believed in, but oh, how he wanted it.
“If my family got to know you, I believe they’d adore you,” he said.
“Does that mean you are open to letting them get to know me?”
Swallowing hard, he spoke over his drink. “I’m not opposed to the idea, if you are willing to be patient.”
“Fae aren’t known for their patience.”
“Which is precisely why I brought it up.”