Chapter Fourteen
Kel tore open the mattress with more aggression than was necessary. He dropped the scissors and ripped the holes wider with his hands. Stuffing and springs and the smell of something long dead escaped as he worked.
“Do you think he'd fucked it?” Shepherd asked from behind him
“People hide things in mattresses,” Kel said. “Money. Tapes. You'd be surprised.”
Shepherd snorted. He came around the bed and picked up the crumpled sheet off the floor. Dust dropped over his feet as he shook it out and then flicked it over the bed.
“Not sure there’s much point to that,” Kel said.
“You could have a guest.”
Kel doubted it, but he helped anyhow. They made the bed in silence, spreading the heavy, brocade quilt over the sheet and plumping the pillows.
By the time they finished tucking in the sheet with the precise, economical practicality he brought to all the weird stuff he did, it looked like nothing had ever happened. Just like how, now he was back, it was like he’d never left.
“Do you really trust him?” Shepherd asked, brushing a scrap of stuffing off the bed with one hand.
Kel didn’t know why he hesitated. He’d expected the question. It was the one he’d have asked.
“He's my grandad,” he said. It sounded weak even to him. “Ruby always said he'd never have left us if Albert hadn't forced his hand.”
“She trusted him?”
Kel started to answer, but didn’t. Because Ruby had never said that. She'd said his grandad was smart, that he'd gotten a raw deal, that Kel was like him. But trust? The fact that Kel was supposed to be like him threw that into doubt for a start.
Kel rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I don't…I don't remember her ever actually going that far,” he admitted. “But what other choice do I have?”
Shepherd raised his eyebrows. "What happened to the guy who took twenty minutes to decide damnation was a good return on his investment?"
Kel looked at Shepherd. The truth didn’t hurt—not the way anything Jesus-related did—but it didn’t sit well in his stomach either. He still stuck with it.
“He nearly killed Ruby,” Kel said quietly. Because even when telling the truth, he had to distance himself from the vulnerability of it. “He drove you away.”
Shepherd rolled his eyes. “Don’t blame me,” he said as he walked around the end of the bed. He reached for Kel’s hand. “I was looking for an excuse. I always am.”
Kel took the offered hand and twisted their fingers together. Shepherd’s hand was cold.
Or maybe Kel’s was hot. He’d noticed the last few days that his internal temperature had been turned up a few notches. Not just physically either. His temper was set to ‘spark’ as well. The ‘smoke’ liked it. That shift towards something hotter, hungrier, made it feel more at home.
Since Kel was already doing everything he could about that, he ignored it for now as he rubbed his thumb over Shepherd’s knuckles.
“And Ruby?” Kel asked. “She's a terrible old bag, but she's still my grandmother. She raised me. She loves me. In her way, but she loves me. I nearly killed her trying to make her tell me her secrets.”
Shepherd squeezed his hand.
“So don't use the smoke on her again,” Shepherd said. “Or me. Lesson learned.”
The idea that it would be that easy, that Kel would just stop, dragged a humorless laugh out of Kel. He sighed and leaned in for a kiss. The plan was quick and dismissive, but Kel lingered.
Kel didn’t want to admit anything, but he’d missed this. It didn’t change anything.
“Except I will,” Kel said against Shepherd's mouth. The smoke curled around his words, eager and full of ideas. “I want to use it right now, to make this easier. Whatever Easy is, he's right that I'm not cut out for this. And I think he's the only one who can help me.”
Shepherd leaned in close and wrapped his arms around Kel's waist. He rested his head against Kel’s shoulder.
“I don't trust him,” Shepherd said.
“Do you trust me?” Kel asked instead.
Shepherd snorted dismissively at that. “No.”
Kel laughed into Shepherd's hair.
“I–”
Before he could get anything else out, Shepherd pulled back, offended as a cat, and waved a warning finger under his nose.
"Don't," Shepherd said. "I am still a flight risk."
Kel grinned. "What do you think I was going to say?" he asked. "That I'm glad you're back?"
“Good. That’s fine," Shepherd said. "Leave it there."
"You’re full of yourself, you know that,” Kel teased him. “What did you think I was going to say? That I loved you? You’re not that cute.”
He waited.
Shepherd gave him a wry look. “For a start, yes, I am,” he said. “And I didn’t—”
The sound of a guttural scream from below interrupted Kel watching Shepherd squirm. It was followed by something cracking. The two of them traded ‘what now’ looks and then headed toward the noise.
The heavy iron poker rattled as it hit the ground.
“It’s not here,” Easy said. His even, equable tone was at odds with the mess he’d left in the hallway.
The antique mirror hung by the front door was shattered, the decades-old tiles on the floor had been pulverised, and he’d smashed a hole big enough to crawl through into the wall.
It exposed the old, dusty lathes, blooms of old mold, and a strung-up burlap sack with dark stains on the bottom.
Meanwhile, Easy casually brushed plaster dust and glass off his sleeves.
“Albert must have had a contingency plan to stymie me in case I ever got back in. You need to work out what it was.”
Kel dragged his gaze away from the bag that swung–gently–back and forth in the wall. He probably didn’t want to know.
“Us?” he said. “You knew him.”
Easy folded his sleeves back and straightened his watch.
“I knew what he wanted,” Easy said. He sighed dramatically, puffing his lips out, and muttered as an aside.
“...and I should have just thrown him one. It would have been quicker. But that doesn’t mean I understood him.
If we understood you lot, we’d not have to play games for your souls.
We’d have them already. So, if you were a nobody who’d lucked into immense demonic power, and then did nothing with it other than thwart me… where would you put my contract?”
He waited. Expectantly.
Ruby looked away from the window as Kel opened the door to her room. She looked different without her usual war paint. Smaller. Older.
“Is it that time of the week again?” she said in a thin, reedy voice. One hand lifted, trembling, from the arm of the chair as she beckoned him in. “Can you stay a little longer this time? I don’t want to put you out.”
The attendant gave Kel a withering look.
“It’s nearly lunchtime, Mrs. Laker,” she said, her voice pitched up and sing-song. “Do you want me to ask Chef to add two plates for your guests?
Ruby waved the offer away. “Oh, they’ll be gone by then,” she creaked. “They’re busy young people. They can’t be rotting away here with me. Just me and Edgar, like always.”
That earned Kel and Shepherd another dirty look as the attendant left.
“Such a nice girl,” Ruby said. “You should ask her out, Kel. Or your new friend.”
Shepherd snorted. “You lie better than your grandson,” he said. “But you’re not old enough to think I’m straight.”
Ruby narrowed her eyes at him, then she sniffed and sat up straight in the chair. She reached up to fluff her curls.
“I had a stroke,” she said. “It’s put me off my game.”
“Not that much, apparently,” Kel said. “Who’s Edgar?”
Ruby pulled a flask from her housecoat and popped the lid to take a swig. “As a person?” she said. “No idea. But he’s old, he’s rich, and he hates his daughter-in-law. It’s going well, so I don’t need you fucking this up for me. Whatever you need, make it quick.”
Kel bent down and kissed her cheek, while Shepherd laughed softly in the background as he found a perch on the window ledge.
“I get the feeling most people here appreciate visitors,” he said.
“Well, their grandchildren don’t live with them,” Ruby pointed out. “I’m appreciating the alone time.”
It wasn’t true. …not entirely true. That she was feeling like lying again was a good sign, though.
“I need to know about Albert Madden,” he said.
Ruby pulled a sour face. Despite her good form, Kel could see the aftereffects of the stroke as her mouth dragged down more on one side than the other.
“He didn’t pay his debts,” she said. “There. You know everything I know about…”
She stopped.
Her teeth clicked as she shut her mouth and reached up to touch her lips. Someone had painted her nails a lady-like taupe. It hadn’t been her choice, unless she thought it would be Edgar’s taste.
“That…that’s not true,” she said. Her eyes darted around the room as she grabbed at the blanket on her lap and tried to throw it off. “Why…isn’t that true? How is that not true?”
Her voice rose in alarm, catching Kel off-guard. Before he could calm her down, the door to the room opened, and the attendant darted in.
“Ruby, are you OK?” she asked anxiously as she pushed in front of Kel. “Do you need to rest?”
Ruby shoved her. The girl’s eyes went wide in surprise, and she gave a startled ‘oh’ as she fell back onto her ass and into Kel’s legs. He stumbled over her, trying not to step on her hands, as Ruby scrambled up from her chair.
Her leg didn’t quite work as well as she wanted—Kel could sympathize—as she staggered across the room. While Kel tried to disentangle himself from the nurse, Shepherd, as precisely efficient at that as everything else, caught and steadied her.
“Where did it go?” Ruby demanded, as she clutched his T-shirt and tried to shake him. “When did it come back? Whose fucking memories are these?”
“Ruby, calm down,” Kel told her, one hand extended. He glanced from her to the attendant as he went on, “It’s OK, we’ve got this. We just need—”
He didn’t get to finish. The attendant scrambled to her knees and slapped the button on the wall. A second later, a nurse, older and gentler, bustled into the room with easy assurances and orders.
Kel backed up to let them work, falling into place next to Shepherd.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Shepherd looking up at him.