38. The Most Ridiculous Séance in the History of Séances #4

“So many necromancer things to discover,” Liam replies, melting me with the note of sex in his voice, even if it’s maybe not quite the time and place, as evidenced by Simon’s eye roll.

The levity is far too short-lived. Liam slams the gun into his pocket and asks, “That’s it, then? Séance done? He’s not there, is he?”

I’m immediately back to reeling, grasping, trying to sort this thing out for Liam in any way that avoids more contact with an unhinged god. “H-he wasn’t immediately here, no. He didn’t come when I called. But—”

“So Tezcatlipoca has him?” His eyes are bright and sure. “Am I right?”

“Who’s Tezcatlipoca?” Simon asks.

Liam shoots him a fast, business-like explanation. “There’s a god in the attic who’s trapped my dead brother’s soul, and I don’t think he’ll stop haunting me or Archer until I steal his mirror back from my boss.”

Simon exchanges a fast, considering look with Fabian, then, “Huh. Didn’t see that coming.”

“Wait…” Fabian’s up off the sofa, stumbling over to Simon, talking to Liam. “Your boss as in my boss? As in Gerald?”

“We don’t know that’s really what’s going on,” I try to throw into the conversation. “It’s all speculation at this stage.”

But Liam bulldozes me with, “That’s exactly right.

Gerald has a magical mirror that’s creating hauntings all over the UK, and he’s making a massive profit from the ExorSquad because of it.

It belonged to the god upstairs in the attic.

And it turns out he’s actually the god of fate, and he brought me here to be with Archer to solve this mystery. ”

“Fate?” Fabian repeats on a strangely reverent whisper.

“I know it sounds mad,” Liam begins.

But, “No,” Fabian intercedes. “No. No, that doesn’t sound mad at all. That sounds exactly like…”

He looks up at Simon, and I don’t think I’ve ever once seen Simon look back at someone like that.

His usual state of casual diffidence is gone, fled entirely.

And he’s looking at Fabian for the first time with something like…

recognition. Dawning understanding. Faith. Something that looks a lot like… love?

It’s a look Fabian returns in full. “That’s the only thing that makes sense. Because what are the chances that I went for this job, got this job, and that this job brought me back here with you, Simon.”

“There is no chance at all,” Simon replies, sounding deadly certain, completely caught up in the bizarre explanation in five seconds flat. “I could never have believed it. It was too strange, too beautiful to be real. But here you are. You’re really here. Ferdinand?”

“It’s me,” Fabian whispers, stepping closer to Simon. “Your own Ferdinand. I’ve known it my whole life. In my dreams, I met you, over and over. And the moment I saw you… I knew you, Simon.”

“Oh, Ferdi…” Simon reaches for him. At the first touch, his hand moves through his arm, but then he tries again, and I see the clothes press, Simon’s poltergeist powers given full expression. He leans in, and they kiss.

I hate to admit it, because Simon’s been a pain since day one, but it is terribly, sweetly, very romantic. But surely he doesn’t mean Ferdinand as in—

Simon pulls back breathlessly. “Please, Archer, may I borrow your body for a short time?”

“You absolutely may not!” I gasp out.

“Liam?” he asks, eyes still glued to Fabian’s.

“Um.” Liam raises his shoulder a little. “I guess I don’t mind—”

“You absolutely may not!” I answer for him. Then, aghast at Liam, “Do you realise what they want to do with your body?”

“Well… But. Um…” He ruffles a hand through his hair, cheeks pinking. “Do they? Is that?” Blinking hard. “Sorry, Simon. M-maybe not today. Maybe we can—”

“Can we please just get back to the mirror?” I try not to shout, and maybe fail quite a bit.

“Yep. Sorry.” Liam clears his throat. “Okay. Yes. The mirror.” He glances one last time at Simon and Fabian, still locked in their embrace, then turns to me. “So, I’m going to go steal that mirror, all right? I’m gonna go over there, grab it, and… And I guess I’ll see you in a bit?”

“You must be joking,” I hurl at him. “You cannot imagine I’d let you do this by yourself.”

He gives me one of those shy smiles of his that make his entire countenance glow.

“You don’t have to come commit crime for me.

I can do it.” He checks the time on his phone.

“I think the place should be closed by the time I get there. And I know where there’s a window I can break if I have to. It should be pretty quick.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I snatch a coat up off the rack.

“Of course I’m coming with you.” I settle the coat around his shoulders, and his eyes grow wide as he traces my hands pulling it tight across his chest. When they flick back up to mine, I ask, “Do you mind very much if I get changed first, though?”

“But you look so nice.” High praise for a man still in his pyjamas at this time of day, currently coated in demon splatter. Yet I can’t doubt his words at all when he then steps onto his tiptoes and kisses me.

Liam.

Darling Liam.

I throw on a change of clothes double time, then follow him out into the night.

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