Korbeu #2
“I am not,” she said, “but if I were, I would be a kind one,” she assured, the condemnation just for him.
“With common sense,” she added, looking up at Morgue, visoring the sun from her gaze.
“Remember to break whenever you want,” she said, her voice transforming to soft silk as if to prove to him her kindness.
“The Sisters have lunch prepared. Your very favorite. And mine.”
“Thank you, Sister,” Morgue said, kneeling down at his new passion—trimming plants. With no conscience. He now wondered how The Bishop justified giving him that much unrestrained power.
“I need to speak to The Bishop,” Sinrik said.
From warmth to wrath, Beatrice’s little body came at him like a tiny human war hammer.
Her wide eyes pinned him then flicked sharply to the right twice as she went right past him.
A signal, he realized, following her angry march to the bayou’s edge.
“I don’t know where Bishop is,” she said quietly to him, glancing back at Morgue.
“What’s going on, what aren’t you telling me?”
“Shhh!” she fussed, facing the water. “I forgot about the instructions!”
“What instructions?”
“For Morgue!” she strained, barely glancing at him.
“For the first seventy-two hours, all inputs need to be clean and gentle and constructive. For nine days, he is to avoid anyone tied to old command structures—which is you!” she said, explaining her panic.
“I shouldn’t have brought you! He could have harmed you if he saw you as a threat! ”
Fuck him.
“Is every terrible thing funny to you?” she blasted, crossing her arms and slamming them over her chest.
“Why should I fear him with you as my shield?”
She stepped into his kill zone, fury fully lit. “You mock me. But do not foolishly forget the army that stands behind me. Mr. Mayhem.”
He angled his head, taking in every inch of her fearless warrior stance.
“What are you looking at,” she demanded.
“You,” he said. “I’m imagining how you would look in official tactical gear. As my new first in command.”
She threw her arms out and up, like he was a hopeless case before drawing her sword-finger on him again. “One, I will never serve under you. And two, I will never serve over you.”
His laugh escaped him. “Where will you serve?” he demanded, needing to hear the fun words, whatever they would be.
“Figure it out, Mayhem!”
“Come on, just tell me. Please?” he added.
“I see that you know the answer and want to hear it said. I will assume there is some part of you that hungers for human connection, therefore I will say it. I will only serve for you.”
Fuck him three times. He’d thought the answer was with him.
She glanced back at Morgue, brows puckered with concern for the ex-monster he’d taken from death row for blowing up an elementary school. “I do hope we didn’t accidentally contaminate him.”
“Take me to the Bishop, Little Birdie. It’s critical that I speak to him about Morgue.”
****
Handy claimed the chair next to Bishop in the auditorium and the terror inside him eased up. Ever since they’d bonded over the baby, he had the odd need to keep him near. Did Handy sense it? Or share the same bond and need?
“Hi Handy,” Beth whispered, reaching around him and squeezing his hand.
“Hello Mah-Mah,” he said back. “Poppy says to tell you her answer is yes.”
Bishop grinned at Beth’s excited squeal. “Mah-Mah said ya’ll can have the guest house right next to the soap house!”
Bishop asked, “And what about your answer, mon t-feess?”
Handy chuckled. “I agreed as long as I have full access to the treehouse.”
Bishop nodded with a side grin. “We’ll have to share.”
Handy leaned in and murmured, “Poppy is happy to be around a big family.”
“And you?”
The red flecks in his eyes flared with an almost boyish smile. “Feels like I’m coming back home.”
Fuck, that’s exactly what it felt like to Bishop. Like a long-lost brother was returning. So fucking crazy.
“Four factions here,” Handy surmised, looking around the room. “You ready for this?”
“So fucking ready,” Bishop said.
They were set up in a square. Marsh Kings at one table, Creole Kings across at another, Quantum Kings on their left, Velkratos and Co.
on their right, including a brand-new Morgue and Sinrik.
Bishop had met his gaze once. Long enough to tell him, yeah, I stole your cyborg. What you gonna do about it?
“Nidev looks antsy,” Handy said.
“Oh, I imagine he fucking is.”
“Who’s tellin’ on him?”
Bishop leaned his head forward, looking for Seer. “Was thinking Rev might call his ass into the mud.”
“Why you think that?”
“Look at ‘em. Brother’s got divine thunder pulsing under his skin.”
Handy leaned and looked then brought his grin back to Bishop. He confessed quietly, “I ate popcorn for the first time last night. And watched a movie with my wife. A chick-flick.”
Bishop had to laugh at that. “You have me beat. I haven’t done either of those with my wife.”
“Really!” he said, looking pleasantly shocked. “I barely remember the movie or the popcorn,” he said. “Now you can’t tell me if that’s normal.”