18 | Roscoe
Getting stabbed in the gut has turned out to be a real crimp in my style. A stone in my boot. A fucker of a doozy of a damper on my party.
Basically, it sucks sweaty balls.
It takes days and days for me to do more than just roll over in bed or sloooowly slooowly make my way to the bathroom. Then, once I’m off the pain meds and not so damn loopy, I’m able to move around gingerly.
I am not someone that’s accustomed to doing anything gingerly, or carefully. I’m a leaper. A bounder. A tackle-and-hug-er.
And it’s not just me that’s being careful, either. Silver’s been acting like I’m made of spun sugar and could snap at any minute. I scared the shit out of her. I get that. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not still game for a snuggle. And after days without her in my bed, I decided enough was enough and abandoned that cage in the medical bay. Its walls were mocking me anyway, driving me nuts.
They’re all so bland. So bleh.
I don’t know how Seb hasn’t gone insane since he sleeps down there more than he stays in the apartment upstairs.
Silver argued at first when I showed up in Zeph’s bed, a couple of nights after I first got stabbed. I ignored her protests, pulling her soft body against mine.
“All right,” she said, that first night as I snuggled against her, ignoring the tugging of the tight skin on my gut whenever I shifted. “But don’t even think about getting naked. Not until you’re more healed.”
My cock popped his head up to argue that he wasn’t injured. I was over the effects of the blood loss, thanks to Fabian’s interference. And blood flowed perfectly well to all the important parts of my body.
She didn’t realize—still doesn’t—that she’s my tether. My shining star if I’m lost in the nighttime desert, my moon when I’m the tide.
... apparently, she’s the muse for all the poetic shit that’s forming and multiplying in my head.
I’m not usually one to hold back, but I keep those thoughts in my head. Maybe I’ll let them slip out every so often. But if I was to open the floodgates and let out the deluge of feeling I have for Silver, I think it’d scare the shit out of her.
And that’s the last thing I want.
So I keep my mouth shut and I cuddle her close.
That first week, we both woke up in the night with nightmares. Silver whimpered and jerked in my arms, still lost in the battle with those monsters. And I kept seeing the jutting bone plunging into my gut. The blood pooling on the white snow. Except, in my dreams, I fade into the snow and I never get back up again. Never get to feel the comforting warmth of Silver’s body tucked against mine. It seems that as much as we’ve come out the other end of the zombie fight, alive and kicking, it’s left some gnarly mental scars on us all.
Days go by and I still don’t seem to hit my groove. I’m mostly healed up by this point, but I find I get tired super easily and I’m weak as a damn kitten.
It also feels like everything has shifted slightly. It’s like I stepped out of my sickroom and the world has been taken over by aliens and we’re all pod people now. I’m out of the loop. While I’ve been cooped up, things have been changing. The world has continued spinning, that little asshole.
Life has gone on without me. Which is frankly pretty damn rude, if you ask me.
Silver’s been out every day with Zeph and Dante. Fabian’s either cooped up in his office or hitting the streets of Nexus, doing... something. And I... I sit on my ass and feel like I need a nap after I bend over too many times baking a tray of cookies.
The entire situation has sucked ass. Not in a good way, either. Gross ass. Sweaty ass.
Then, after a minor incident where I convinced Hanna that combining our magic at the same time would create a pretty cool fire illusion, and we almost set the building on fire, Fabian decided I needed to be kept occupied.
He had me doing paperwork, though. The single most boring thing in existence. That ended pretty quickly after I played too vigorously with his stapler and somehow it wound up embedded in the wall.
After that, he dismissed me and sent me off to play video games with Seb. But six straight hours of chopping up zombies with an ax was enough to suck all the fun out of the game. Especially considering how I wound up in this situation.
I then spent some time entertaining Silver’s twin sisters, Una and Mona. They’re pretty quiet, but they seem to be slowly warming up to me and coming out of their shells. But even they don’t want to spend all their time with me.
I’m lolling on the sofa, staring at the Pretty Princess bracelet I have wrapped around my wrist. The one that Silver has spelled to block any of Ember’s telepathic magic from sneaking into our heads.
And I ponder. I wrack my brains. And think some more.
I need to do something. Something that doesn’t involve sitting behind a desk, because that’s boring as shit. It also needs to be something that doesn’t involve that much movement or I’ll have to take a break and recoup my energy after ten minutes of activity.
Seb plops down on the couch next to me, some kind of knitting project in one hand and a tablet in the other.
He’s just a kid and even he’s being more useful than I am. Silver asked him to monitor the online forums, since every post about the vamps or about the Archarcans hiding information keeps winding up mysteriously deleted after a couple of hours.
He grumbles something as he messes with the pile of yarn in his hand, and I raise an eyebrow. It looks more like he’s trying to cut off his circulation than anything, but I’m guessing he’s trying to create another masterpiece.
“Another present for Silver?” I ask.
I’m pretty sure the boy’s got a little crush. He knows she hasn’t had time recently to give in to her own crafting bug, so he’s been making her shit whenever he can. Mostly they’re lumpy monstrosities, but Silver seems to appreciate whatever he makes her. Her eyes light up and it’s entertaining as hell to see Seb’s cheeks go all pink whenever she hugs him or gives him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you.
“Damn. Another post got taken down,” he mumbles, tapping away with one hand since the other is caught up in a tangle of hot pink yarn.
“Pretty sure it’s that techno mage Silver met. If she had enough power to wipe the zombie footage from every cell phone in the city, then she’ll have no issues taking down forum posts whenever they crop up.” He rubs his eyes and taps his chin, looking world weary and older than he should. “Maybe we should be trying to get her onside, instead of fighting against her.”
“Work through the Archarcans, even if we can’t work with them,” I reply, a brainwave hitting me with enough force. I zone out for a minute.
Holy shit. That’s it. That’s what I can do.
“I’m a genius,” I tell Seb, who gives me a perplexed look.
“Do you think I should message her? The techno mage?” Seb asks. He doesn’t seem a bit excited about my genius idea. Then I realize I haven’t actually told him what it is yet.
“Sure. I doubt it’ll do any good, considering she works directly for the Archarcans, but you can try,” I tell him. “Before you do, can you find me a list of the next council meetings or meetings where a bunch of the Archarcans will all be together? And can you find me some pictures of some of them?”
He gives me an odd look, but it doesn’t argue.
“All right,” he stretches the words out, but he does as I ask. It takes longer than usual, considering he’s only got one working hand. But Seb’s a whizz with computers and finding stuff out.
Within ten minutes, he’s got a list of the Archarcans’ meeting schedule for the next month and a bunch of pictures of them in all their snooty glory. I flick my way through the images, discarding most of them.
“Too boring. He looks half asleep. This one doesn’t look like he talks much,” I tell him.
“If you told me what you’re planning, I might be able to help you,” he grumbles.
Right, of course.
“I’m going to infiltrate their meetings. Illusion myself up as one of them and persuade them that hiding the vamps is a stupid idea.”
“That’s...”
“Genius, I know.” A rush of excitement goes through me, especially as we flick to the next set of images and I find the perfect one.
“What happens if he turns up at the same meeting as you do?” Seb asks.
I scoff. “I’m not worried about that. I’ll just have to persuade him not to.”
Seb raises an eyebrow. “Are you planning on threatening this guy? He looks like he could be my great-grandpa, Ro.” He clicks about a bit and then sighs. “Although it sounds like he doesn’t turn up to most meetings, so you might be good there.”
“Cosmo Maverick,” I read the guy’s name. Sounds pretentious enough for an Archarcan. He’s got a twirly mustache and a long beard down to his belly along with a twinkle in his eye.
Yeah, I think his face will suit me very well.
Later that week, I’m sitting round a conference room table, staring down at my belly in the midnight blue robes I’m dressed in. My fingers thread through my silky beard and I fight the urge to braid it to give me something to do.
Twenty minutes into my first attempt to infiltrate an Archarcan council meeting and I’m bored. They keep twaddling on about permits and other stuff my brain can’t even process because it’s so damn dull.
There are twelve of them sitting around the table. There’s also a woman in the corner, making notes on a laptop with a surly look on her face. Around the table are a mixture of mages and witches, and—to my surprise—a vampire.
Not just any vamp, either. It’s someone I recognize—Zeph’s stepfather. The creep who we try to have as little to do with as possible.
I may have blundered slightly when I first spotted him.
“What are you doing here?” I croaked in my best impersonation of what Cosmo Maverick might sound like, considering I’ve never met the guy.
I did go all the way to his house to do my research, but once I was at the door—illusioned up as another vaguely fancy looking mage and not as myself—the butler informed me that Cosmo Maverick wasn’t in the city and had gone on vacation for the rest of the month. Probably somewhere to soothe his old bones because the guy is positively ancient. Something that’s working in my favor. I could probably fall asleep during this meeting and they’d not think it weird.
But I’ll hold strong. I’m here with a purpose, after all.
“Our vampire liaison, Mr. Malcolm Volkov,” the mage opposite me says.
The witch beside me leans in close, speaking directly into my ear. “We’ve remained with our current liaison. The alternatives were judged to be inappropriate and changing the liaison at this time is untenable.”
She smells vaguely like mothballs and I try not to cringe away, instead shooting her a grin and a wink, which causes her to suck in a surprised breath.
Shit. Better tone down my natural magnetism and general sexiness, or I’ll blow my cover.
I realize I’ve tuned out of the conversation and when I focus once again; I find they’ve shifted topic. To what, I’m not exactly sure.
“I told you all, didn”t I? If we give the dogs enough of a leash, they’ll hang themselves eventually,” a crusty-looking mage sputters. “The events of the Solstice and the subsequent chaos in that particular part of the city are evidence of that. A few more weeks and the entire district will fall. You mark my words.”
“And then the entire city will fall under our jurisdiction once again. Now that we no longer have Felix Hawkshead meddling in our affairs, things will be much simpler.”
“The events of the Solstice,” I repeat in my best old man”s voice. “The fires in the Nexus District, you mean?”
The crusty mage frowns at me. “And, of course, the other events of that night.”
“Events we agreed not to refer to again,” an equally crusty witch replies snippily.
It takes me a moment for their meaning to sink in. “You think that people from Nexus released the zombies?”
There’s a general chastising hiss and a dozen recriminating frowns are sent my way.
“Lord Maverick, if you please. We agreed after the first meeting following the events of that night that the Solstice was not to be discussed, along with the balderdash theory that zombies were roaming the city. Disinformation is a dangerous thing,” the crusty mage says.
Huh, turns out I’m a Lord, which seems fitting. Maybe I should get everyone to call me Lord Roscoe from now on.
It also sounds like the Archarcans have gaslit themselves into believing that Nexus is to blame for the zombies.
“You want to take over running the Nexus District,” I say, as their previous words suddenly make a lot more sense.
“Of course. We can’t continue with an entire swathe of the city, considering themselves as self-ruled.”
“But what about the next time you want something procured you can’t get anywhere else?” I probably shouldn’t be arguing this point, but I can’t stand by and let all of them piss all over the district that’s been my home all my life.
There’s a general tittering, and it’s the crusty witch that replies.
“Well, there may be some weeks we’ll be unable to procure a Gryphon for your wife if you decide to keep one as a pet again, Lord Maverick. But I’m sure we’ll find suitable alternative routes of acquisition quickly enough.”
They swiftly change topics, moving on to something boring, and I find I can’t focus on the words coming out of their mouths. It’s all utter bullshit, and it’s pissing me the hell off. I continue to run my hands through my beard to soothe myself, wondering how long it would take me to grow one of my own. Years, probably. I wonder if Silver would like it.
“What about these rumors of vampires who are planning an uprising?” I interrupt, unable to hold my tongue any longer.
The councilors all stare at me and I realize I’ve probably interrupted another scintillating discussion on zoning permits or legalizing kicking puppies or something.
“Lord Maverick, please. We have discussed this at length and I must insist that you start taking your medication once again, or at least read the minutes from previous meetings.”
“I don’t need medication. My dick works just fine,” I tell her, causing another barrage of shocked gasps to echo around the room.
“He’s nearly three hundred years old. What can you expect?” A mage at the far end of the table murmurs to the person beside him. “His memory is failing and his hearing is almost non-existent on a bad day.”
“Tell me again what we’re doing to keep the vampires in check,” I boom.
“Well, as there is no evidence of there being any such group of vampires, we’re doing little about it. We know that any dissension in the city can be narrowed down to the uncultured corner of our fair city. As we discussed earlier, that problem is one we’re keeping a close eye on.”
I slump in my seat, not before catching the techno mage in the corner watching me. She frowns slightly before returning her attention to the screen of her laptop.
Seems like this is going to be even more challenging than I thought.
I’m not giving up though. No matter how much these meetings might make my ears bleed and my brain atrophy from boredom. I just need one of these hardheaded fools to listen to what I have to say, and we might make some progress.
And while I might occasionally struggle with focus or dedication, this isn’t going to be the last meeting I infiltrate.
No siree. If they think they’ve seen the last of Lord Roscoe Maverick Hawkshead, they have another think coming.