24 AURORA #2
“Nan had a bit of a temper,” London eventually whispers, his voice dropping into that rare monotone. “And a big wooden rolling pin for the jam tarts. Sometimes when I’d get too chattery or skippy, she’d try and knock the devil out of me.”
He lets out a slow shuddering breath.
“I think it scrambled my eggs a bit, to be honest. Made things a bit hazy in the old brain-hole. One day, the rolling pin came down so hard my ears didn’t stop ringing for weeks.
After that I kept forgetting things, Kitten, so I did my best to learn to remember again by learning world records, and practicing rhymes. ”
My heart is fucking breaking.
“Remember, remember, the fourth of November. Guinness book of records, learn a new one everyday. I was sitting on the docks, trying to remember the biggest cargo ship in the world, which is the MSC Irina by the way, and my brain-voice told me it was time to get on a ship myself. Sail away, sail away, sail away. I just walked up the gang plank to the first cargo ship that had a crane moving and told them I was part of the crew.”
I’m stroking my hands gently on his back, and London stops speaking for a moment and shudders.
“I know I’m a bit much for people,” he continues.
“I can see it in their faces. Burt looks at me like I’m a silly sausage, and Shane looks at me like I’m a bug on his rug.
I get it. But sometimes... sometimes the rhymes and the records are the only pieces of string I can find to tie myself down.
They keep the world from spinning too fast. Spinning me around until I slide right off the edge. ”
He pulls back just a fraction and looks down at me, his green eyes filled with worry and pain. “I can tone it down, Kitten, if it’s doing your head in. I can try right hard to just speak regular, like. But don’t send me away. Please don’t send me away.” A tear tracks down his cheek.
My own eyes fill in response. “Oh, London.” I reach up, my palms cupping his cheeks.
“Don’t you ever tone yourself down for anyone, London.
Especially not for me. I wasn’t trying to change you, or shame you.
What I was trying to tell you, poorly, is that it’s alright to drop the coping mechanism if you’re tired.
And if you feel lost, hold my hand and I’ll keep you safe.
I accept you in every single mode you have; acrobat, bard, amazing facts-man—confused and sad-man.
Every single one. So be who you want to be.
Who you need to be. But you’re not alone any more, so if you want me to be the string that stops the world spinning, I can do that too. ”
Another tear cuts a clean path through the smudged flour and dirt on his cheek. It sparkles in the early morning light before tumbling into the wool of his collar.
He blinks, a fragile smile touching his lips.
“My name isn’t really London, you know. Nan just called me ‘boy’ or ‘idiot’ or ‘spawn of the devil.’ But when I was on that freighter, the crew was from all over—and the cook just started calling me ‘London’.
‘Hey, London! Peel the spuds!’ ‘Hey, London, fetch the salt!’ I liked it. I liked having a name.”
“It suits you,” I say softly, maneuvering his head so he’s looking at me again. “And I’m sorry you had to go so long without a name.” I stand on my toes and give him a gentle kiss. His lips feel like velvet, soft warm. Just that small connection has my whole body flooding with emotion.
Intense, glorious.
Like our souls are meeting.
The sound of movement pulls us apart.
Out of the mist a wolf appears, Basil riding on his back, clutching a sheet of paper. The kid rolls off, letting out a sharp hiss as his foot hits the ground, but his face displays a triumphant smirk.
Tally shifts back to human form as Basil waves his paper at us while pulling the goggles off his eye and shoving them back to the top of his head. “Address and directions to the nearest creepy moat-house. It’s called Ménage Manor. Some rich prick lives there.”
I release London and step forward. “You weren’t gone even fifteen minutes! How did you get this?”
Tally leans on the vehicle, his amber wolf-eyes narrowed. “Because the little fucker didn’t listen to a word I said,” he growls.
Basil shrugs. “I asked Pepper’s dad.” His chin lifts like he’s challenging us to criticize.
“The mom was boo-hooing her head off, and the dad was, like, almost stroking out, so I pulled him to one side. Told him I needed info, money and a phone. He shoved his wallet at me, but his phone was a basic piece of shit with no internet, so I told him to keep it and just took his cash…”
“But the address?”
“The second I told him we were trying to rescue more kids from a local house with a moat, he gave me the location of Ménage Manor. He’s going to get the kids to safe homes and promised not to tell anyone how they got rescued.
Started freaking out about me being a kid, but I told him I was just a messenger for a whole crew of mercenaries, and that shut him up. ”
I blink, a little stunned, but London claps him on the back. “You’re a proper legend, Fuckwad.”
Tally rolls his eyes, then tosses the keys in the air. “Ménage Manor is about an hour drive from here, so let’s get moving.”
The LandRover rumbles back to life, and I slide in the back next to London. Resting my head on his hot chest, I try to keep positive.
Sky, hopefully, is only an hour away.
And Francois?
He’s so fucking clever and capable. I convince myself that he’s probably already sitting in a chauffeur-driven luxury limo somewhere, tracking our trail across the country in perfect, pristine comfort.