35. Shit Gets Real #3
“Not a god. Not a god of chaos. Of destruction. A god who could control fate. A god who could…” His brow pulls tight as his mind scrambles over all the possibilities.
“People worshipped this thing, held elaborate ceremonies where they sacrificed people to appease it because they understood its power. This thing can bring cities to their knees. And what? It’s been playing with us?
Creating these scenes? Doing these awful things to you…
For what? For the fun of it? And what does it do now? Now that we’ve met and—”
He breaks off there, his eyes lowering. I catch his cheek with my palm and bring him back, even if he keeps his eyes down. Taking his hand to my chest, I tell him, “Nothing touches this. No god or ghost or ghoul of any kind is going to get their hands on this. Look at me, Archer.”
His eyelashes flutter as his gaze meets mine, and he’s the most beautiful man I have ever seen.
“I know this isn’t your fault. I don’t think for a second that it is.
This is all wrapped up in that mirror, in whoever’s taken it.
And you, and maybe me—we’re just caught in the crossfire.
But I’m not going anywhere. Whether it was Tezcatlipoca that brought us together, or your big, weird, sexy pentagram, or my complete inability to hold down a job, or whatever the hell it was, we’re here now, and we’re going to work together to solve this.
We’re going to work through this problem like…
” I blush over the words, but I force them out anyway.
“Like boyfriends. And we’re going to… to have breakfasts.
Those nice breakfasts you make. And maybe that picnic in spring.
And one of these days, Archer, I’d really love to wake up in bed next to you.
Some nice morning when…” The thought takes me by the throat, so I break off.
Archer’s thumb traces over my cheek, so tenderly, and I lean into it. He looks at me like no one ever has, not in my entire life. So much adoration. God, I want him so much. I want to keep him. I am going to keep him.
“That’s what you daydream about?” His breath tickles soft over my skin as he leans in, places a gentle kiss to the left of my mouth. “Would it be my bed or yours?”
I laugh, even as his kiss moves to the right side of my mouth. “Definitely yours. Just minus the ghosts.”
He laughs too, before pressing a long, slow, sweet kiss right in the centre of my lips. “I’ll salt-ward the shit out of that place if it means I’ll get you all to myself for a whole night.”
A whole night. A whole week? A whole year?
Such a beautiful daydream.
One that only becomes a reality if we can get to the bottom of this mystery.
I whisper against his lips. “We’re not going to let this come between us, okay? I need you to know, I’m not scared of you. I’m not scared of what you can do. And I think you’re… wonderful. I think you’re a lovely man.”
He lets out a slow breath, his eyes turning hazy. “Liam…”
“I do. And I think this god has his wires crossed. Somehow, he’s come to the wrong place. Or… or… just landed here by chance.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
“He’s just randomly stopped here on the way to somewhere else.”
“Yeah. At a necromancer’s house. Weird coincidence.”
“It must be,” I argue. “Because nothing links us to that mirror. Nothing links us to him. None of it can have anything to do with us.”
“Certainly not with you,” he replies warmly, amiably, fondly.
“Yeah. Least experienced spirit hunter in all of history. I didn’t even believe ghosts existed until a few days ago.
” I let my fingers land on the grainy image of the mirror on the paper.
“You know, I bet my boss, Gerald, would love to know about that thing. If we could find it, get rid of it, it would solve all his haunting problems in one go.”
“And what?” He laughs. “Send him out of business?”
“I’m sure he’d much rather people weren’t in danger than be making money from running some shifty ghost company.”
“You’d hope so,” says Archer. But whether he intended it or not, the slightly reproachful note in his voice gives me pause.
“Well, of course he would.” I make the protest blindly, even as some part of me turns the thought over in the back of my mind. Gerald, who gave me this job on the spot when I’ve been so unemployable. Gerald giving me cash money for ‘travel.’ As a bribe.
Gerald, who had the police at his office because of…
Because of something the police are still looking for. Actively searching for. Asking to talk to Gerald about… some missing artefact, while he disappeared out the window with… a small, round black object.
The room swirls. The house and the Cotswolds and all of England swirl, and my hands land on the desk to steady myself.
There is a link between me and Tezcatlipoca. A link between me and Archer and Tezcatlipoca.
It’s the mirror.
Gerald has the mirror.
My heart beats violently against my ribs, sweat breaking at my brow. “I have to tell you something,” I whisper. “I have the most awful feeling I’ve just figured out exactly what’s been going on.”
Just then, both our heads turn sharply as three hard and pointed taps sound on the office door.