Chapter 13 #2
Once Walters had gone, the group settled in around the dining room table.
They watched as ne’er-do-wells and seldom-do-wells walked by the window; there were no e’er-do-wells in sight.
It felt all too familiar, the four of them detained in a strange building, but this time there wasn’t a looming terrible fate awaiting them.
Mal hadn’t really processed quite how close to death he’d come, from the walking dead or from the Order themselves.
He wondered how everyone else was keeping it together so well; the group certainly felt more upbeat even though no one was talking.
It was a calm, exhausted silence, not a dreading, anxious one.
They sat, sipping on their piping-hot tea, enjoying the quiet.
Mal thought back on the chaos and carnage of the last week and wondered quite how he’d ended up in the middle of it.
Their new main suspect was now a necromancer who, up until this point, had been locked up in a Bone Vault.
How could they have been killing people?
How could they have raised the dead when they were, themselves, super dead?
Stoned-and-jarred dead. Mal still didn’t understand why the jar mattered; he’d have to figure that part out later.
He wished he still had that book with him.
The more he found out about this case, the less sense any of it made.
Why would Mazino, a super powerful necromancer, kill random civilians?
Then start killing Order members? Why not start with the people who imprisoned him?
Mal’s head hurt from thinking about it. He paused for a moment, worried it was his death sense.
But no, it was just a regular, non-necromantic headache.
“What do we do now?” Hala said, easing out of the silence.
“Sleep, please let it be sleep,” Yu said, folding their arms into a pillow, then plopping their head down on them.
“I thought you’d want to be getting back to your studies?” Des said, smirking at Yu.
“I fully intend to,” Yu said, “but after a nice long lie-in. Aren’t you looking forward to some sleep, Des?” Yu’s tone took on a light mockery.
Des said nothing, glaring at them through the side of her eyes.
“Can we talk about how you’re a vampire now?” Yu said, with a gleeful smile.
“WHAT?” Hala said, rocking back in her chair.
“You suck,” Des said. “How could you tell?”
“One: It is you who sucks. Two: You’re paler, you’re hiding your teeth, and I saw you punch a dead guy so hard he flew across the room.” Yu chuckled to themselves as Des bared her fangs.
“Maybe I should have put that together too.” Hala looked to Mal who, thus far, had stayed quiet. “You knew?”
“I did,” Mal said. “It’s kind of my fault.”
“You’re a vampire too?” Hala said, even more shocked.
“No. Jesus, I’m just tired.” Mal had to do something about his complexion if people were mistaking him for a vampire. Des burst into laughter, while Yu just giggled along.
“It’s not his fault,” Des said. “Me still being alive is his fault. Show them. If they’re gonna help, they should know what happened.
” Mal doubled-checked with Des, but obliged.
He went up to a small wall-mounted TV and replayed for them what he’d shown Des back at his parents’ place.
Him watching the nest, Des arriving, the attack, pounding on the door, Des being taken away, then hours of Mal hauling furniture.
“No! You have to show them the little vampire girl,” Des said, through a laugh-induced smile.
“You guys get the idea,” Mal said, cutting the tape short to a chorus of “Nooo.”
“So you’ve had a rough week,” Hala said.
“Tell me about it,” Des said. “And if anyone finds out, I’ll be joining Mal in the Bone Vault with everyone else the Order gets rid of.”
“You and Mal in the Bone Vault,” Hala said, implying something tawdry.
“Ohhh, shut up,” Des said, as both she and Mal blushed.
“Sounds like the name of one of those clubs on Skelmir,” Hala said.
“Did you get a look in some of those places?” Des said, smiling. Mal caught her eye, but felt the need to look away.
“Not my cup of tea,” Yu said, “but I’m not judging.”
“Once this is done we should make a night of it,” Hala said. “We can even go to that bookshop for you, Yu. What was it called? ‘Leather Bound’?”
“That wasn’t a bookshop,” Mal said, wide eyed. “But like Yu said, we don’t judge.”
Hala blushed. “Could still sell books though, you never know.” The group chuckled and finished their tea.
“I’m pooped. I think I’m going to go find a bed,” Yu said. Mal tried to muster a joke but had neither the will or energy.
“That sofa’s got my name on it,” Mal said. “Hala, you can take the other bed.”
“Very gentlemanly,” Hala said, as they all got up from the table. Mal caught another side-eye from Des.
“I’ll keep watch. It’s not like I’ve got anything else to do.”
The group said their goodnights, then ambled out of the kitchen and into their respective quarters for some well-earned rest. Mal stared at his sofa, second-guessing his chivalrous decision; it had looked slightly plumper in his mind.
He found a blanket on the back of a nearby armchair and threw himself down into the cushiony abyss.
As he lay down, he watched Des pull a chair up to the kitchen window and ready herself for lookout duty.
He pulled the blanket over himself and third-guessed his decision, having now felt how thin his blanket was.
He waved softly at Des, who mouthed “nunight” back to him before she turned off the light.
EYES.
Two sharp eyes, like glowing pearls, stared at Mal from the darkness.
He jolted suddenly, and watched as the eyes jolted in reaction to him.
Mal’s own eyes adjusted slowly and a faint outline appeared as the dark fog cleared.
It was Des, staring at him from her spot by the window.
The faintest touches of moonlight gave her shape, but her eyes reflected that light tenfold.
Mal mouthed “Can you see me?” in the dark, and the eyes nodded.
Mal smiled; the eyes creased at their edges.
“How you holding up?” Mal mouthed. The eyes moved side to side.
Mal gestured for her to come close and he watched as they floated upward and bobbed slowly toward him.
She sat down on the floor face-to-face with him.
He offered to make space for her, but she shook her head.
“I wanted to ask earlier,” Mal whispered, “but, y’know …”
“Yeah, it’s been a bit of a mad few days.”
“How’re you doing?”
“Good, I think. Well, no, not really, everything’s kind of falling apart.”
“Falling apart doesn’t sound so good.”
“No, not really.” Des chuckled softly to match their whispers.
“What’s falling apart?”