by HP Mallory
Unwanted visitors? I replied instantly. Are you referring to Soul Retrievers?
They are merely one of many on the list, yes.
Retrievers are universally recognized and have every right to enter the Underground City, my fingers pounded out across the small keyboard on the phone. We have a job and purpose as decreed by Afterlife Enterprises. You have no right to interfere with that. Especially by making our job harder! Alaire didn’t reply so I continued firing more angry texts at him. Does Jason know what you’re up to? It all sounds very nefarious to me!
Of course, he does, Ms. Harper. I am prohibited from making any sort of move without first obtaining upper management’s blessing.
As if Jason could be considered upper management where you’re concerned! It’s probably more fitting to call you the puppet master!
While I do appreciate your high esteem, I must point out, for the record, that I did contact Jason, so he is aware of my defense protocols. Furthermore, I also requested that he not bother you with any new missions for at least the next fortnight. I wanted to allow you ample time to rest and recuperate after your near-death experience. I explained the climactic ordeal you recently endured.
Despite feeling well beyond grateful at learning I wouldn’t have to return to the Underground City for at least the next two weeks, I didn’t thank Alaire. I preferred not to appear indebted to him, or to let him think I owed him anything.
Please do not forget the favor you owe me, Alaire added, as if he’d just read my mind.
I haven’t forgotten, I replied with a heavy heart. “Owing” Alaire anything didn’t sit right with me. But he had saved my life, and the only stipulation he demanded was my consent to grant him a favor.
I shall be in touch with you regarding that favor when the time is right, Alaire continued.
I can’t wait.
Very well. I pray for your safe return and pleasant remainder of your journey, Alaire finished. I clicked the power button off after deciding not to respond.
“Were you just textin’ with Alaire?” Bill asked, reminding me of his presence.
“Yes,” I said with a sigh. The weight of my obligation to Alaire was hanging heavily on my shoulders.
“Textin’ wit’ Alaire?” Tallis’s voice boomed from behind me. “Whit are ye talkin’ aboot?”
I reflexively tried to hide the phone while my heart launched itself into my throat.
“Ah already saw ye with the phone, Besom,” Tallis grumbled. He walked into my view and eyed me warily. “Nae purpose hidin’ it now.”
Taking a deep breath, I tried to regulate my heartbeat as I happened to focus on the bloody carcass in Tallis’s hands. Ever the resourceful bladesmith, he’d obviously picked up dinner while on his excursion to “make water.” He threw the dripping carcass at Bill, and we both watched it land in the dirt right in front of him. Bill reeled back as if it were still alive and about to climb up his leg and sit in his lap.
“Skin the beast,” Tallis commanded in a voice that forbade all arguments. Reaching into his sporran, he soon produced a blade, which he hurled at Bill. The sharp end landed in the dirt barely a foot or less from Bill’s leg. Bill glared at him briefly until Tallis aimed his somewhat murderous gaze back at me.
“Whatevs,” Bill said as he looked down at the bloodied bundle of flesh. I could hear his stomach growling. He shrugged before shoving his phone back into his pocket. “I got Carpal Tinder Syndrome now anyways.”
“Why were ye conversin’ with Alaire?” Tallis demanded as he stared me down.
“Um,” I started with a huge gulp.
“Let thy words explicit be...”
- Dante’s Inferno
SEVEN
“It was necessary. I had to find out the purpose of everything inside the canvas bag,” I answered dutifully. With my chin held firmly in the air, I reminded myself that Tallis wasn’t the boss of me. Furthermore, as a strong, independent woman (and all that other roaring stuff), how dare he appear angry with me?
“Then ye turned oan the phone Alaire gave ye?” Tallis demanded from where he hovered above me, looking like he was as tall as a building.
“Yes,” I replied, thinking better of spelling out the fact that that much was obvious. In order to text Alaire, of course I had to turn on the phone. Duh.
“Then ye are also aware that Alaire can track oos now?” Tallis continued, crossing his arms over his chest with another stern glare. His cheeks and the tops of his ears took on a rather attractive, rosy hue.
“He can’t track us because I already turned the phone off again,” I explained. I refused to look him in the eyes since I already felt about three inches tall and rapidly shrinking.
“Doesnae matter,” Tallis persisted while shaking his head. “’Tis most probably enchanted anyway, so Alaire can track oos whether ’tis oan, or off.”
“Then, following that logic, he could have begun tracking us from the moment Saxon gave me the canvas bag,” I pointed out.
Tallis shook his head. “Magic disnae work like that, Besom,” he corrected me. “It moost be enabled first. By turnin’ oan the phone, ye enabled it.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” I tried to argue, but Tallis’s expression stopped me dead in my tracks.
“Can you two keep it down over there?” Bill piped up, glaring at us from one sleepy eye. The other one remained shut. His hands were neatly clasped together on the hilltop of his belly, making it quite apparent he was in the midst of trying to snatch a few zees.
Tallis briefly glowered at the angel before his attention shifted to the bloodied carcass he’d dropped at Bill’s feet. It was still covered in dirt, and obviously not skinned.
“Why have ye nae skinned our sooper?” Tallis demanded loudly. His jaw was tight and his eyes narrowed to slits in obvious irritation.
Bill shrugged, keeping his eyes closed. “Figured we could cook it with the skin still on it. Fur should singe right off; an’ that saves me a whole lotta time when I could be asleep an’ dreamin’ about big tatas.”
Tallis approached the lazy angel and kicked the bottom of his foot. Bill immediately opened his eyes when Tallis kicked his foot again. Bill sat up, drawing his legs up while frowning at the now enraged Titan.
“Fuck, dude! What’s your problem?”
“Ah am tired of ye nae carryin’ yer weight!” Tallis roared as he kicked Bill’s other foot until Bill finally stood up. “Ye are the most useless dunderheid Ah ever saw! Ye refuse ta help an’ only exist ta feed yer hoongry mouth! So git off yer sorry arse an’ skin that bludy carcass!”
“Damn, dude, chill the hell out!” Bill replied as he shook his head, looking like he was about to argue. Thinking better of it, only seconds later, he walked over and retrieved the carcass along with the blade Tallis gave him. All the while, I didn’t miss him muttering something indiscernible.
“Whit are ye goin’ oan aboot?” Tallis finally asked him, wrapping his arms over his chest as he peered down and addressed Bill.
Bill continued to hold his head down, but looked up at Tallis with his eyes, meaning his feelings were hurt. “I was just sayin’ that the only reason I didn’t already skin the damn thing was ’cause I got sphincter trembles an’ I don’t like havin’ everyone know!” he finished as his chin started to quake.
“Ye got what?” Tallis roared with no attempt to mask his foul mood.
“Look, dude, I haven’t pinched a loaf in a few days. Now, I’m afraid to relax my sphincter. Who the hell knows what the fuck’s gonna come out if I do!” Bill wailed in despair, throwing his arms up in a dramatic gesture. “So just sue me for failin’ to broadcast it!” he railed as he shook his head. He dropped his gaze to the ground and repeatedly blinked before adding, “It’s freakin’ embarrassin,’ man.”
Tallis was temporarily at a loss for words. He didn’t say anything, but studied Bill for a few more seconds while shaking his head before turning his attention back to me.
“An’ thanks for all the
low commentary, bro, an’ for steppin’ all over my dick,” Bill trailed off. His voice started hitching, which indicated he was very close to crying. “Not cool, man, not cool at all.”
“Mayhap if ye carried yer own weight,” Tallis started, but Bill interrupted him.
“You don’t pour my cereal, bro,” he spat out. “You never lived my life so you can’t know the first thing about all my struggles,” he said while shaking his head emphatically. “You never walked a day in my socks, or whatever the fuck they say! My point is, you can’t imagine all o’ my trials an’ tribulations, you self-righteous, overgrown, ballsack!”
“Bill,” I started, trying to keep my smile from showing. He could be so dramatic sometimes. Not to mention completely ridiculous. The only trials and tribulations he’d had to endure were of the lack of beer or the lack of sex variety.
“No,” Bill insisted as he hit me in the shoulder lightly with the palm of his hand. “Frickin’ Tido the Royal Fuck needs to hear this!” Then he turned back to Tido … the Royal Fuck. “Someone needs to enlighten the cocksmith an’ tell him he’s a total man bitch! He needs to start chillin’ an’ stop bein’ such a douche bag!”
“Och aye,” Tallis agreed, nodding, without appearing the worse for wear. “Ah dae need tae hear this. Pray, continue, stookie angel.”
“I will!” Bill roared back at him. “An’ take that stupid ‘stookie angel’ comment an’ shove it right up your hairy ass!”
“Bill,” I repeated, not wanting to test Tallis’s patience, which I imagined was dwindling rapidly. The last thing I wanted was for Bill to ruffle Tallis’s tail feathers enough to make him take off and leave us in the Dark Wood to fend for ourselves.
But Bill refused to be silenced.
“No, nips!” he yelled at me before aiming his glare back to the cocksmith. “I’m sick to death o’ your ballbustin’! You’re always givin’ us a contact sad with your BS attitude. Dude, we’re all in this pile o’ horseshit together, so get used to it! Shit no more bricks, an’ start takin’ this crap in stride! I get it that later ago you were like some big badass who like murdered your own family, or some shit, but that’s so long ago that you need to get over it! All that shit in your past is makin’ you act like a big ol’ ass jacket in the here and now, bro! An’ as for me and the nerdlet, we can’t take no more of it!”
Tallis didn’t respond, probably since he had no clue what Bill was going on about. As to me, Bill had lost me about halfway into his rant. I had to imagine he’d lost Tallis a lot earlier.
“Oh, an’ one last thing,” Bill continued. I was amazed he still had air left in his lungs. “Of all people, I get that you’re like pent-up, if ya catch my drift,” he started. He winked and I shook my head while wondering where the hell he planned to go with this. “An’ I’m more than sure that shit’s the reason you’re sufferin’ from the worst case of PMS I’ve ever seen! So, dude, do us all a favor! Get out an’ go fuckin’ shake the ketchup bottle!”
Tallis was quiet for a few seconds before he exhaled deeply. The frown on his face conveyed the notion that Bill’s words were having some sort of effect on him. Whether it was good or bad, though, was anyone’s guess. He didn’t reply to Bill, but turned his attention to me. His eyes immediately settled on Alaire’s phone, which I still held in my hands.
As soon as Tallis spotted the phone, the veil of anger returned to his features. He took the three steps separating us and then, without so much as a word, he reached down and snatched the phone from me. He pulled his arm back and launched it into the air as far as he could hurl it. And that was far. The guy had an arm on him that any quarterback would envy. But that didn’t alter what he’d just done, which was completely unacceptable.
“Who the hell do you think you are!?” I yelled as I turned to face him, my mouth open from shock and anger. But Tallis didn’t back down, and the redness in his cheeks only deepened as he gritted his teeth and we glared at each other.
“Mah job is tae protect ye an’ Ah cannae dae so when ye’ve got Alaire spyin’ oan our every move!” he snapped before rubbing the back of his neck, like he always did when he was pissed off. He glanced over at Bill, who was now swiftly skinning the lump of bloody flesh and not saying a word. Then Tallis returned his attention to me, saying, “Ah am off tae fetch wood fer a fire,” before he stomped away.
“Dude needs to get laid,” Bill commented as soon as Tallis was out of earshot. “Or, at the very least, he should wank all that shit out,” he concluded. His attention was riveted on skinning the lump of bloody flesh like he was afraid Tallis would return and yell at him about it again.
“What are you talking about?” I demanded. A growing irritation began to wind through my gut. I had to wonder if Tallis’s bad mood was contagious.
“That’s some cray-cray right there, an’ that’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Bill said as he glanced up and eyed me pointedly. “Dude needs a man release; otherwise, the news is gonna get even worse.”
“A man release?” I asked him warily. “You think his bad mood—”
But Bill shook his head and laughed at me like I didn’t get it. “It’s not just a bad mood, nips. Dude is losin’ it.”
“He’s not losing anything, Bill,” I informed him. “You just pissed him off, that’s all.”
“That’s what you think,” Bill shrugged. “But last I checked, you were sans dick, so you can’t speak bro language.” Then his eyes narrowed. “An’ people with vaginas should keep their mouths shut on shit they don’t know nothin’ about!”
I shook my head and expelled a long breath. “I guess you got me there. So in bro-penis language, what do you think is wrong with Tallis?”
“It’s simple, Gina,” he started, as though it were spelled “Gyna.” I imagined my newest nickname was intended to emphasize the genitalia between my legs. One thing I could say for Bill was that it was never dull with him around …
He paused from his task and started to shake his head, scrunching his nose up and down like a rabbit. “Gotta itch!” he explained as he held his breath. “Ah, fuck it,” he finally said before scratching the side of his nose with his bloodied finger which left a huge smudge.
“Gross,” I muttered.
“Where was I?” Bill asked, not bothering to clean up the blood on his face. “Oh, yeah, Dude Anatomy 101. When a bro goes too long without shootin’ his load, dude ends up with toxico-cummosis.”
“What?” I asked, shaking my head as my eyebrows furrowed of their own accord. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! Toxico-cummosis? Really, Bill?!”
“I’m deadly serious!” Bill replied while holding up two bloodied fingers for scout’s honor, only in horror movie style. “What? You think that shit can just back up for however long it takes without side effects?” he asked before spearing me with a serious expression. “Hell’s no, it can’t! It has to be released, an’ if it don’t, dudes can seriously lose their minds.”
“Or get Toxico-cummosis?” I double-checked with a frown.
“Yep, that’s when it gets really bad. When it goes that far, the dude’s a dead duck,” Bill reaffirmed. “Happens more often than you think.”
“I’m sure,” I placated him.
“I bet Conan is really close to gettin' poisoned, if he hasn’t been already,” he continued.
I wasn’t so sure about Toxico-cummosis, or cum poisoning, but surmised that poisoning of a different nature was really not too far off. And on that note, I decided to test my theory out. Taking a deep breath, I stood up and ventured a few steps. I had to see whether or not the effort to stand and walk was still too taxing. Luckily, I felt fine.
“Where the hells are you going?” Bill asked as he looked over at me curiously. “You gotta go make your water or maybe a turd?”
“No,” I snapped curtly, thinking a little break from Angel Bill was exactly what I needed. “I’m going to find Tallis.”
“An’ what if he doesn’t wanna be found?” Bill asked. “
Maybe he’s shakin’ the ketchup bottle, right now, as we speak.”
“Maybe, but somehow, I doubt that,” I replied before grabbing my sword and starting forward. “I’ll be back in five minutes if I can’t find him.”
“Oh, sure … An’ if some fucked-up thing attacks you an’ eats your brains, don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”
“I won’t,” I answered as I thought better of it and reached for the whistle, which was still sitting inside the canvas bag. Better to be safe than sorry … or brainless, as the case may be.
***
It didn’t take me very long to find Tallis. Barely five hundred feet from our campsite, he was busily collecting stray pieces of firewood, just like he’d said he would.
“Tallis,” I called out, not wanting to alarm him since I was approaching him from behind. The last time I did that, I found myself up close and personal with the edge of his blade.
He turned around immediately with a scowl. “Whit are ye doin’ oop an’ aboot? Ye should be restin’.”
“I wanted to talk to you,” I answered nervously, seeing he was definitely in a bad mood, and much worse than usual. Tallis was intimidating in general, and so much more when he was angry.
“Aboot whit?” he demanded, eyeing me with a pinched expression.
“When was the last time you bled yourself?” I asked.
He blinked a few times, but didn’t say anything. It was fairly obvious that my question threw him. Seconds later, any surprise that might have shone in his eyes was now absent. But he still didn’t say anything—he just continued gathering wood.
“I know Donnchadh’s toxins must build up,” I continued, fidgeting because I felt so nervous. “So I thought maybe that could be one of the reasons that you’ve been seeing red lately.”
He nodded. “Aye, ye are observant, lass.”
“Then I was right in my thinking?”
He nodded again, then stood up and turned to face me. “Aye. When Ah cannae release Donnchadh’s toxins, he flavors mah mood,” he explained with a deep sigh.
