The Emperor

by N. M. Brown

“You also acknowledge by entering the club on threesome Thursday, that you are up for a threesome.” Roman piped up from behind in a deadpan voice, not humoured by his brothers’ antics.

  “Roman! What the fuck?” Reese growled, clearly thinking his masterful plan was going to work.

  “It’s all right, Reese. I guessed it might be something like that. I will think very hard about the offer, but for now, I’ll wait until I'm a little more settled.”

  “Fine.” Reese grumbled, while Roman quickly linked arms with his double and pulled him towards the road before he could do more damage. Though they thought they were out of ear shot, McQueen could still hear Reese as he snapped at his brother.

  “Why’d you tell him about threesome Thursday?” he hissed. Romans answer, however, was said in a hushed tone and McQueen missed it, but he could guess what the photographer had said. Reese’s reply didn’t leave for many possibilities. “Not yet he’s not.” And the little rascal winked over his shoulder.

  McQueen could only chuckle. He didn’t mind the twins in the slightest, and their antics bothered him even less. If his eighty-year-old, devout, twice-on-a-Sunday, congregant Nana could have an open mind, so could he. But that didn’t mean if Reese crawled into his bed in the middle of the night, he wouldn’t boot his ass to Timbuctoo.

  “Tonight, I’m going to make pizza.” Roman declared, cutting off whatever Reese was trying to start. “I think Jess will be around, and you can invite Ramirez or someone?” Roman offered. “Well have a little welcoming party for your arrival?”

  That sounded like bliss to McQueen, in fact, there, was only one thing that might make him feel better. “That’s sounds great Roman, thanks. I’ll catch up.” And pulling out his mobile, McQueen punch in the number he had memorised.

  The phone rang twice before Sage picked up. “Hello.”

  “Hay-, um… Its McQueen.” He stammered.

  “Oh, hi.” Sage voice beamed down the line and McQueen could already feel his shoulders starting to dip and relax. “I was just thinking about you. What’s up?” She asked.

  McQueen inadvertently smiled down the phone. “I’ve just finished for the night and I… we, wanted to know if you were free? I’m moving into my new place and I’d … well, that’s to say, … I mean, we would love it if you came and-, you know – had a housewarming party. There’s food, of course… Roman’s making it, though if you don’t like pizza we can order something in, I’m sure…” McQueen realised he was babbling and shut up. Taking a quick breath, he settled himself. “It will be a bunch of us, just all … chilling out.”

  Coldness spread in McQueen's gut as he thought about who he should have been asking round, but then he reminded himself that Anna wouldn’t have come. No, if he wanted her to come he would have to grovel, almost beg her and that was in his past. Roman had been right, McQueen had distanced himself from Anna for a reason and until he could reasonably talk to her about that reason, he couldn’t see her. However, that knowledge didn’t make him feel any better

  “I love pizza.” Sage answered and McQueen could hear her smiling down the phone, no doubt mocking his babble of an invitation. “What time?”

  “Umm, I don’t know.” McQueen laughed sheepishly. “Whenever you get off work?”

  A soft, musical laugh chimed down the phone and McQueen relaxed a little more. “Sounds good. Give me your address and I’ll see you there.”

  “Ok, then. I’ll see you at mine.” McQueen smiled down the phone after he’d given her the address. “And thanks… for coming I mean.”

  “Of course.” Sage answered softly, “We’re friends.”

  McQueen blinked and reality hit him hard. “Yes, friends.” But even he couldn’t hide the grave tone in his voice. “I need to talk to you about something as well.” he added, his mouth running away from him. There was so much she didn’t know: how much their coffee dates had meant to him, how her level headedness grounded him, how he was a married man though perhaps an unhappy one… “Not now. Later.”

  “Of course, McQueen. There was something I wanted to ask you anyway.” Uncertainty rumbled in McQueen’s stomach, but he owed Sage answers; the truth. “I was joking with my friends in the hospital, uh-, you know, woman taking charge...asking the question rather than waiting.” Sage laughed at herself, but McQueen lost track of what she was saying.

  The twins were talking at each other at the same time in a flap, looking very pale. Whatever Sage had been saying, McQueen cut her off. “Hay, Sage, give me a sec.” He said holding the speaker to his chest as he approached with speed. “What is it?” He asked Roman, who was fiddling with his bag strap.

  Roman looked to Reese, who looked to Roman before looking back to McQueen with a worried expression. “The cab…”

  Following their worried gaze, McQueen saw a nice old mad in the front, with thick glasses and an uncertain smile. When McQueen smiled back, the Cabbie chuckled.

  “Not me laddie.” The cabbie hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “But this here lassie passed out before I got a name and all she insisted was no hospital. She said just bring her here and something about a queen?” Following the thumb, McQueen sucked in a breath.

  Slowly he raised his phone back to his ear. “Sage, you still there?”

  “Yes McQueen, I’m still here.”

  McQueen huffed a breath. “I’m really sorry, I’m going to have to cancel the welcome party.” Sage gave a soft ‘oh’ in disappointment, but McQueen wasn’t even started yet. “But could you still come around anyway, and-… could you bring some medical supplies?”

  “Medical, -… sure, of course I can, I have a first aid box. What’s going on, McQueen?” Sage asked, a little fear leaking into her voice.

  “I don’t even know where to begin.” Was all he could answer before he hung up and procced to open the back of the cab.

  ◆◆◆

  Lying prone on his bed, her skin shinny with sweat and blood still oozing from a head wound, Echo was the centre of everyone’s attention. Her body was black and blue, yellow and red, with more cuts and scrapes then McQueen had ever seen. They’d placed her on the bed as gently as they could, yet straggled cries had erupted from her unconscious state. They were then forced to roll her onto her front and McQueen now knew why.

  “Is she going to be alright?” Roman has asked as they waited patiently for Sage to arrive. McQueen had gathered ice in a towel to reduce any swelling, but there was so much he didn’t know where to start.

  “I don’t know.” He answered truthfully. Echo was tough as nails with an attitude to match, but this kind of brutality wasn’t normal. She had little to no defensive wounds, minus a few bruises on her arms, so he could tell she’d fought back but she’d gone down hard.

  Kneeling by her head McQueen gently placed a hand on her shoulder “Echo?” He said softly. He almost didn’t want to wake her, knowing that the pain she was in was likely unbearable. “Echo?” He said again, gripping tighter. It wasn’t much of a grip, but she groaned, and a single tear rolled out of her swollen eye.

  That had been it. A single groan and McQueen didn’t dare try and wake her again. The strongest pain killers they had in the apartment was ibuprofen and there was no way that was enough. With every breath Echo wheezed and every movement made her wince.

  Sage had arrived shortly and after a sudden shock, she’d done nothing but tend to her patient and order McQueen around. Roman and Reese had said they’d stay out of the way, quickly disappearing into their room and McQueen didn’t blame them. He still didn’t understand what was going on or what kind of danger Echo had brought down upon herself. Understandably they were a little freaked.

  “Has she said anything?” Sage bustled through the door. In her hand she held more folded towel with lumps of ice. Echo’s wounds were closed and sterilized, but Sage had no medicine she could administer outside of the hospital. McQueen would never dream of asking Sage to steal from work either, so soothing the swollen areas was all they could do.

 
“No. Just a few groans.” McQueen said, stepping back and out of the way.

  “Well she’s not dead then.” Sage huffed before she started to examine Echo.

  “No. She’s not dead.” Sitting back on his heels, McQueen watched Sage work, helping where needed. Everytime Sage had cut away an article of clothing, a new wound appeared, darker or bloodier or weeping something. “Should we call an ambulance?” He asked, looking at her almost mummified body.

  Sage regarded the question thoughtfully before answering. “If you hadn’t called me, I hope you would have either way, but I’ve checked her over, and apart from a few serious contusions and maybe a bruised bone or two, she’s ok. Any lacerations are superficial, though whoever did this meant business. They didn’t hold back.” Ripping off her surgical gloves, Sage gave McQueen a hard stare. “But the better question is; why is she here? I thought you didn’t get along?”

  McQueen ignored the worried look in Sage’s eye and shook his head. “I don’t know. She told the cabbie no hospital and... well, you’ve met her. Do you want her waking up to find out her strict instructions weren’t followed?” McQueen was half joking, but the other half was deadly serious.

  “That’s true.” A quiver of a smile brushed Sages lips. “Could you imagine? I think she’d actually hunt down the Cabbie and skin him alive.”

  McQueen let out a soft chuckle, smiling alongside Sage. “Yep. That pretty much sums it up.” But he mellowed quickly. “Who do you think did this to her?” He asked, though his Detective mind could guess.

  “Well, I can see boot treads; around the size of a male” Sage huffed a breath. “Multiple, actually.” She passed him a sad smile pressing the iced cloth to Echo’s forehead. “For how many people attacked her… Well I’ll guess we’ll just have to wait until she wakes up and tells us.”

  “Yes.” McQueen agreed, settling himself against the wall, ready to be there a while. “We’ll just have to wait.”

  XIII

  Echo felt like she’d been hit by a lorry. No. No that was wrong. She felt like she’d been hit by a lorry that had hitched a ride on a bullet train that fell from the outer atmosphere. That seemed more realistic.

  Rolling her head to one side, then the other, She suddenly very much wanted to vomit. Spinning her head back over to empty air, she spewed, the acidic waste burning her throat and coated her teeth in thick fur. She coughed and spluttered feeling every hurl, from the roots of her hair to the soles of her feet. Everything hurt. Blood pounded in her head and the back of her eyes screamed with pressure. With shaky hands, Echo tried to sit up, but nothing was working, everything hurt, and the world was still spinning…

  She wasn’t sure how much time passed while she lay there staring at the ceiling. Five minutes, fifteen, maybe it was an entire evening, she couldn’t tell. Huffing solid breaths she wiggled her toes, then her fingers, pleased to find they moved though it was only a twitch.

  “Okay….” She croaked out.

  Lifting her arms, her shoulders protested, causing it slump back to the bed. Next, she did the same to her legs which moved a little higher but her left thigh spasmed and they both quickly fell back to the bed. “Shit.” She hissed.

  Sighing again, Echo examined her surroundings. The walls were a dark navy and only a solitary window next to the double bed allowed dull light to stream in. Looking out she could see it was only late evening, a light blue haze crusted the neighbouring roofs and orange dappled the chimney pots as the sun set. She must have only been out of it for a few hours.

  Opposite the window was the door, which was next to large sliding mirrors that worked as a wardrobe. The rest of the room was sparse, which was an understatement. The desk between the window and door was empty of clutter, as was the bookshelves above. No personal items, no pictures or even a potted plant: nothing. This was definitely Queenie’s room.

  Echo eyed the desktop, thinking through all the gifts she could get him: preserved head? Or maybe a butt naked hula girl? If she wanted to get him anything though, she’d have to get out of this bed.

  Twisting amongst the sheet, Echo flung her legs over the side and felt the tickle of carpet on her toes. Next, she had to sit up. Cramping her stomach muscles wasn’t going to happen – she'd made that mistake already – so she went sideways instead, turning ever so slowly until her nose brushed her knees. Even after so little progression though, Echo was soaked in sweat. Her arms and legs shook with strain despite not taking her weight yet, but ‘yet’ was key. She’d been through bigger scrapes than this and gotten to her feet in a quicker time. She was slacking, becoming weaker, softer. Snorting, she told herself she would shift her ass into gear… as soon as she got out of this damn bed.

  Standing in one push, her feet unsteady and keeping one hand on the bedpost, Echo was determined. She was strong. She was fit. She was… tipping over. With flailing arms, she caught herself on the desk as her legs gave way and she swore as her already swollen knees collided with the wood.

  “Shitting damn fuck.” She hissed, feeling every nerve in her legs sizzle in pain. “Where’s a God-damn drink when you need one?” Huffing through her hair, Echo eyed the door, surprised to see light coming from under it.

  Someone was awake and hadn’t heard her racket?

  Moving with sudden purpose, she snuck to the door and peered out into the light.

  “…this the kind of excitement I can expect from all your parties?”

  Echo sneered as she heard the preppy Nurses voice, her bubbly voice like sandpaper to her ear drums. Opening the door a fraction more, Echo could see the two of them; the lovely Nurse Sage and dashing Detective McQueen, sat at opposite ends of the couch, each with a mug of tea, talking like it was a first date.

  “Oh, I hope not.” Queenie answered, rubbing the back of his neck; a clear sign he was nervous. Cracking the door an inch more, Echo came to realise she could have walked out the front door and they wouldn't have notice. Paired doves would puke at the sight of them.

  “No, I can promise you I don’t normally have passed out women in my bed.” He chuckled and then realised what he’s said. “I mean-… I’d never have that. Ever. I’m not-,” But the good nurse just waved him off with a smile. Relaxing, glad his budding lass didn’t think he was a serial rapist, Queenie continued. “Thank you, for everything by the way. I don’t know what’s going on, but-…” he hesitated.

  “She not the kind of girl you turn down easily.” Sage supplied which Echo took as a compliment.

  “Not how I’d phrase it, but yes. I’d like to think I would help anyone who looked like that though.” Queenie let out a breathy laugh and the lounge fell into an awkward silence; Echo’s favourite kind. She revealed in the scene: Sage staring into the depth of her tea, while Queenie sipped his.

  At Cardinal House, she would have joined them with another, turning it into a double date, then a foursome, happily leave the two star-struck fledglings to wake up together alone and confused. She’d be doing them a favour really, breaking what already couldn’t last before it got serious. However, knowing these two, she’d happily watch them crash and burn all on their own.

  “So, how’s work?” Queenie piped up and Echo rolled her eyes. Safe subject Queenie, far too safe, not to mention boring.

  “Works been good.” Sage beamed. “The ER is as crazy as ever: kids with stuff stuck up their nose, bumps to the head, drunken bar fights.” She looked at him through humorous eyes, which Queenie returned in turn, but fear and embarrassment swelled, and both quickly looked away.

  “You sad boring, children.” Echo scoffed to herself. She’d seen Nuns with more passion and that wasn’t necessarily with their God either.

  Observing the scene, Queenie had taken to checking the time, while Sage bit her lip. Lip biting was a sure sign of indecisiveness so, what was the little Nurse up too? And just like a wishing well, Echo’s question was answered. “One of the doctors asked me out on a date the other day too.” Sage laughed, now running the knitted throw through her f
ingers.

  “Cleaver little bunny.” Echo whispered, test the waters. With sudden clarity, Echo wondered if Sage knew about a certain Mrs. McQueen? She’d played the jealousy game many a time, and it was easy to get a lover railed up, especially if you suggested another man was moving in on their territory. Queenie had never seemed one to care for territory to Echo, but maybe that was because he already had some…?