Chapter 23
Milo
I’m writing up more connections we’ve made on Wyatt’s wall–that we’ve turned into our crime mapping board–as the others descend into another irrelevant conversation.
It's been hours of pouring over the information we’ve been given for this task and so far we’ve concluded that there are two more profiles we need to trade or steal from one of the other teams.
We’ve made good progress on unpicking the mystery to be solved. Wyatt and Seffy pulled together the fact that we’re looking to find a murder weapon, that the profiles were of some syndicate, and one of them killed another.
Currently, everyone is trying to decide on a motive.
I’m not really good at this shit, I deal in concrete moves, money changing hands, digital imprints.
It was decided a little while ago that this seems more like a crime of passion.
I’ve taken to being the one to write out our findings and draw the connections.
The murder board sketched up on the wall above the spare bed in Wyatt’s room is already looking quite full.
Tacita had joined us late and has been unusually quiet from the seat she took up on the foot of Wyatt’s bed.
She didn’t really give us any detail on where she’d been, but I noticed her avoiding my gaze.
It felt like an uncomfortable blanket had been thrown over my shoulders and it was making my skin itch. Had I done something wrong?
Wyatt and Rio have been loud all night, driving the conversation as they argue over theories. No one seems to notice Tacita’s lack of engagement, but I do. I want to go back to our room so I can ask if she’s okay.
“I bet my brother loses it whenever they tell him I’m gone. There’s no way he’ll believe I’m dead or whatever bullshit they feed him,” Wyatt says, and the detail snags my attention, the conversation clearly derailed from our task.
He has a brother?
“How old is he?” Seffy asks.
“Younger than me, he’s only twenty-six. But he took the whole wild second child thing to a whole new level.
He left for the US when he was twelve, forging all sorts of signatures so he could go to school there as they allow smart kids to graduate early.
He got a degree from MIT by the time he was seventeen. ”
“Your parents allowed that?” Rio asks.
“They never really took interest. He broke contact with them as soon as he left. I kept trying for a while but haven’t spoken to them in years. They were wasters, the pair of them.”
“You and your brother must be close if you think he’ll be looking for you,” Seffy deduces.
“Yeah, even on different continents we called everyday. It got a bit less once I started travelling the globe for work, even less when I landed my arse in jail, but we were tight. I hope he’s alright.”
The touch of emotion in his voice makes me want to go to him, comfort him in some way. But I don’t because I have no idea if us hooking up in private is a secret, or if he’d be open to me showing him attention in front of others.
He catches my eye, looking up from where he’s sitting on the bed, to where I’m standing on it in order to reach the annotations I was adding to.
“I’m sure he’s doing alright. He sounds like he can take care of himself.” Seffy says the reassuring words I wish I was able to.
“Yeah, he’ll be fine. And hopefully once I pass this thing, I can seek him out. If they were able to open a portal or whatever to bring us here, then surely we can use those once this thing is over.”
“I wish I had someone,” Seffy says quietly. “I was quite alone. I had a few friends, I guess, but they were more concerned with out-besting each other in all aspects of their lives.”
“I didn’t have anyone either. I was in a gang but they only cared about the skills I could bring, they didn’t care about me. I’m sure I’ve already been replaced.” Rio laughs.
“What about you?” Seffy says, nudging Tacita’s leg.
“Oh, my parents are great. They’re only across the–” she cuts off like she was about to say something she shouldn’t. “I mean, they were about half an hour from my flat. We’d have lunch most weeks when I was at home.”
“They in the business also?” Wyatt jumps on the titbit of information she’s sharing. In fairness, I’m also listening to the conversation in earnest now, leaning against the wall instead of adding notes to it.
“Assassins?” Tacita laughs. “No, they’re both teachers, but they know what I do and support it.”
“Wow. You must be missing them?” Seffy asks.
“Yeah, this is the longest I’ve gone without contact for a while.” She offers a small smile and picks at the fabric of the duvet she’s sitting on.
“Well then, as soon as this thing is over, you and I are going to figure a way back to the Earthly plane,” Wyatt declares.
I feel the sucker punch at being left out but don’t physically react.
“And you, of course. Any family of yours we’ll be tracking down as well?” Wyatt shifts to pat my socked foot. Warmth fills my chest for about two seconds at Wyatt including me afterall but then it quickly cools to ice in my veins.
I shake my head.
Flashes of the family that left me flit across my head, with the numbness of being abandoned washing right in behind like a tidal wave. Then the darker demons try to surface, the ones made of fire and smoke and blood. So. Much. Blood.
Punching the wall, I step off the bed. This was stupid. I’ve been stupid. How could I think that being here would make it better. They’re never going to leave.
Before anyone can stop me, I’m out the door.
My breathing is all messed up by the time I’m back in my own room and diving under the covers of my bed. Curling up as the screams fill my head, the scent of petrol strong in my nose, the memories try to drown me.
“Hey,” a female voice cuts through the noise of destruction and the mattress sinks beside me. “It’s okay.” A hand lands on my side over the quilt I’d pulled over my body to try and escape.
It’s not okay. I want to scream. Nothing about my past is okay. Nothing about my present is either, but I’ve been pretending.
“What was that?” Wyatt’s muffled voice hits my ears as I bury deeper under the covers.
“Clearly talking about family is a trigger for him,” Tacita tsks.
“Oh.”
The mattress dips more and then I’m being bundled up, bedding too, until I’m on Wyatt’s lap.
I fight it and try to pull away but he is bigger than me. Stronger too.
“I’m sorry, Milo. I wouldn’t have asked if I’d known.”
No, I want to tell him.
Shut up, I want to scream.
Ask me more, my self-destructive side shouts inside my mind. I want them to force out my darkest sins so that they’ll leave me alone. I’ve been fooling myself with attaching myself to the pair of them. Running away.
I’d thought that maybe… but no. I should’ve stayed away.
I fight Wyatt’s hold a little longer but seeing as I’m wrapped in the quilt that’s practically a straightjacket, I can’t escape and quickly lose the will. Instead, I go limp. Changing tactics, I calm down. If he thinks I’m over it, he’ll probably let me go.
He doesn’t, he just holds me. Him and Tacita talking about stuff I don’t hear because my mind won’t shut up or fully shut off. No matter how tight I screw my eyes up or will my reality away, it doesn’t stop pressing to the forefront.
There’s a brilliant bright light and the whole building around me rattles.
“Holy fuck, what was that?” Wyatt goes tense under me.
Wait? Was that real?
Tacita jumps to her feet, the dip in the mattress where she was sitting, gone. “I don’t have a clue.”
It's the first time I’ve heard panic in her voice and that scares me. She’s never scared.
Wyatt shuffles under me and I finally uncurl to blink up at his face, he’s focused on her. But his hands stay gripped around my body. “It sounded like a bomb went off.”
“Stay here,” Tacita instructs, and I’m lurched out of Wyatt’s hold as he reaches for her.
“You’re not going out there alone.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“No. If you go, I’m going.”
“Fine. But stay behind me. I mean it.” Her command is so forceful that Wyatt concedes.
“Are you coming too?” Tacita looks at me.
I nod. My thoughts about distancing myself have evaporated, the threat of danger overriding my logic.
Wyatt moves to the window but a quick glance must not reveal anything because he turns away with a shake of his head. “Nothing to see out there.”
“It sounded like it was coming from the other direction,” Tacita says as she moves for the door. She hesitates, her hand brushing her thigh before she pulls it open.
The hallway beyond looks normal except for a few others on our floor also looking out their rooms to see what the noise was.
Tacita strides out. Wyatt grips my hand and pulls me out with him.
His fingers lace into mine as we follow along.
It's grounding and brings me back to my earlier thoughts about how I can act in public around him.
I know it's a potentially dangerous situation but there are several other people around us and he wants to hold me in some way.
We nearly make it to the stairwell before Seffy calls out and joins us. Rio is with her too, even though his room is on the floor below. No one questions it as we start descending the stairs, the motion sensor lights flicking on.
Outside we’re met with the acrid smell of burning flesh and smoke and I almost coil back into the panic I’ve only just managed to tamper down. Wyatt’s hand pulls me into his body, keeping me in the present.
Tacita turns away from the residential blocks and heads to the side of the main sprawl of teaching rooms. It looks like nothing is amiss from the front but as we round the corner of the building, the sight that greets us is something out of a horror movie.