Chapter Ten
Yun
I woke with a start, bolting upright and looking around, confused about where I was or what had happened. It took a moment to work it all out.
I’d fallen asleep on the couch, and now the television was blaring an infomercial for some detergent that was supposed to get bloodstains out of clothing.
If I had to deal with that many blood stains, I had bigger problems in my life than needing a new laundry detergent.
The lights were off—only the harsh glow of the television illuminated the large space, casting strange shadows that looked like monsters, all reaching to yank me down.
After another nightmare, of course, who could blame me for thinking that those shadows reached for me?
The memory remained with me, fresh in my mind. That voice, twisted and guttural, tattooed so deeply into my psyche that I doubted I’d ever really escape it.
Sweat covered my forehead, my back, made my shirt stick to my skin even as I moved.
Why had I woken?
The answer became clear when I turned my head to find three massive figures in the office, near the door.
I slapped my hand over my mouth to muffle my scream.
Light poured through the office, so bright that I flinched from it at first. When my eyes adjusted, instead of the monsters I’d imagined, three very real ones stood there.
“Sorry to startle you,” Carter said. “I figured you’d be in your room, not camping out in the living room, staying up late to watch…” He turned his head toward the TV then chuckled. “Detergent commercials? You going to start doing our laundry?”
“You wish,” I muttered when I pulled my hand from my mouth, angry with myself for showing such weakness.
The barb lacked any real bite, but it was the best I had at the moment.
Sometimes the most a person could do was move forward, bury insecurities beneath a mountain of snark and lies and false bravery.
The thing that shook me from the distraction was taking a better look at the three of them.
They’d been out far later than they were supposed to be, and seeing them right now gave me a pretty good idea as to why.
Fresh wounds and bruises covered each of them, and in addition? A neon purple that I easily recognized, the scent of it choking and playing havoc with my already fragile mindset.
Monster blood.
There was something about it that nothing could replicate, as though I could smell the very corruption of it, down to some impossibly deep level. Other guides didn’t react as I did to the scent, but other guides hadn’t gone through what I had.
At least, if they ever did, none spoke of it.
“You were in a dungeon,” I said.
Carter smiled broadly, as though to tell me not to worry, to reassure me that this was nothing. “It was a quick one, in and out. Not a big deal.”
“You’re hurt.”
He gestured at himself and waved the concern away. “It’ll all be healed up by morning. It was a small dungeon, and we figured it’d clear in a matter of minutes.”
“You said that,” Shear pointed out.
“Yeah, don’t put this bullshit on us. You were the one who decided to run fucking headlong into a pack of monsters.” Ingram picked a bloody chunk of something from his hair and flicked it off.
“You what?” I knew my tone came out like a scolding mother, but I couldn’t help it. “You just headed into one? Just like that?”
Carter laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, sure. We’re espers, aren’t we?”
The light gave me a better look at him, the ability to see that his eyes had tinted purple, to see the black lines that bled from his eyes, over his face, his throat, as though blackness ran through his veins instead of normal blood.
“You need guiding,” I whispered.
He shook his head. “I’m fine. Like I said, not a problem.”
Ingram shoved him hard enough that he stumbled. “Don’t be a fucking idiot. You took on way more than you should have, and you’re gonna be feeling worse as you start to heal. This is why we have a guide.”
“What about you?” I tried to examine Ingram, but it was too hard to tell anything with all the monster blood.
“I’m fine. Shear and I know how to stay away from the claws. Carter here, he decided to go fucking ham on it all. Serves him right since the little outing was his idea. Just focus on him for tonight.” Ingram looked down at himself and clicked his tongue. “I’m gonna go fucking shower.”
Shear said nothing, just followed Ingram up the stairs, leaving Carter and me alone.
And fuck did that feel strange.
It hadn’t been that long since I’d guided an esper, but it always seemed awkward at first. Even if there was no physical contact, even if it was all professional, there was an inescapable intimacy that occurred during such an exchange.
So doing that with a stranger felt like having to walk up and immediately kiss someone I didn’t know a thing about.
Even as difficult as that was, as strange and uncomfortable, I’d done it time and time again over the years. A person could get used to about anything, including something as absurd as guiding strangers.
“You don’t have to do this,” Carter said, his voice surprisingly gentle given the way he stood there, covered in blood.
“It’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”
“Sure, but that doesn’t mean you’ve gotta start now—or with me.”
I stood, my entire body having grown heavy—probably from stress rather than my impromptu nap—and tried to force a smile. “It’s fine. Should we do it here?” I peered around the large room.
“I think I’d better at least shower, don’t you think?”
What an oddly considerate gesture…
Few espers thought about that, and honestly, few guides did, either. What did a bit of gore matter? Usually, the drunken sensation from the exchange made little else matter. Even if one of them cared at first, they sure as fuck didn’t pretty quickly.
It was why there were so many privacy trailers around for espers, to help prevent them from accidentally banging in the middle of the street.
Which meant Carter—even with those wounds and those signs of corruption—managing to think about something like that, to hold himself back, was even more amazing than I’d realized. Few espers would have been capable of considering it, let alone resisting long enough.
“After my shower, I’ll meet you, okay?”
His question was interesting, given he offered it as a real question. If I said no, he’d accept that.
Which made no fucking sense to me.
I nodded, my throat far too tight to manage any response.
Carter headed up the stairs without another word, and I found myself unable to tear my gaze away from the floor where the three had stood.
Purple gore sat in piles and fat droplets—some blood and other flesh, all signs of exactly what Carter had done.
It remained, forgotten on the tile, and it made me wonder just how much of that had been here before, how many times the floor had been covered from previous fights.
After the portal to a dungeon closed, the beasts would slowly die, disintegrating until nothing was left. It sometimes took a few hours, sometimes a few days or weeks for the bigger dungeons, but eventually, all signs disappeared.
At least, all outward signs.
I knew better than most that those couldn’t be fully believed or trusted.
So I turned to head up the stairs, wishing like fuck it was that easy to get rid of the deeper wounds, the things that hid beneath the surface, because ten years hadn’t been nearly enough time to wipe that shit clean for me.