by J M Thomas
What if this man is my rescuer, and they’re the ones stalking me, keeping me under their thumb?
One foot in front of the other, he pulled me back to the dance floor where two or three others were freestyling. He didn’t make a comment to disparage my half-hearted attempts, but his eyes shone when I met his gaze.
The music changed to a slower tune, some old country two-step that sounded like something my dad would listen to in his pickup truck. A hand tapped John’s from behind him, then a thickly-muscled, scarred arm sliced forward between us to cut in.
I nearly stumbled, but Aeron caught me. His mouth tilted toward my ear, whispering for only me to hear. “Shh, love. It’s alright, it’s all gonna be okay.”
“Um, excuse me, sir.” John tried to push his way between us.
“One dance, mate, come on. It’s painful to watch you shittin’ all over the floor.” Aeron held me with one arm and swatted at John with the other. “Bugger off. Go get yourself summin' at the bar.”
I smiled a little, relaxing as I gripped that familiar leather jacket. John’s presence backing away meant I could breathe again. I took in the soothing scent of leather, soap, and motorcycle exhaust. It was so heady the room spun.
“‘E give you a scare, Lessie?” Aeron’s gaze met mine as we shuffled in a simple foxtrot I could easily keep up while talking. Well, I could if the room would be still.
I leaned in and whispered, “I think he drugged me. I forgot, you’re not supposed to leave a drink at the bar and come back for it…”
“Shit.” Aeron spun me around, twirling me before bringing me back into his arms. “Look, I know you wanted to get uninvolved. But you, me, right now, all this is very, very involved.” Aeron spun me again, keeping our mouths out of John’s line of sight as he paced the room like a tiger.
“There’s a big meetin’ tomorrow afternoon, and they want you out of the way by then. My place is warded so strong not even nightmares can get frough, so you’re safe so long as you’re there. I’m not going to make you, Lessie, nor’m I even going to ask you to come back. I’m just offerin’.”
“I didn’t want to complicate things. I didn’t want to get in the way.” I lowered my gaze to my shoes, tears pooling. “Looks like all I managed to do was make things worse.”
“It might seem ‘at way, but don’t count yourself out so rash.” Aeron had a mischievous glint in his eye. “This gives us a chance to get a butcher’s at enemy capabilities, what kind of ‘eat they’re packin’. Outside, the place is swarming wiv watchlin’s. Don’s got us covered, but we ‘ave to be right punctual to get out clear.”
“I’ll go with you back.” I leaned into his embrace. “But I don’t know how long I’ll last…”
He thought for a moment. “When did you take the drug?”
“About ten minutes ago. I’m already feeling… really chill, actually.” A giggle escaped, from where, I hadn’t the foggiest clue. “Look at me, being all brave for once!”
“‘At might work to our advantage, too. So long as we don’t miss Don’s signal, you relaxed means you not freezin’ up when it’s time to scarper, right?” Aeron managed a half-smile as he scanned the perimeter.
“Okay.” My mind swam for a moment, fear rising up through the drug’s effects to paralyze me in a solid block of terror as the song ended. When I came back to myself, we were dancing.
We. Aeron, me, in this bar.
He’d found the rhythm of the next song and was improvising off the Viennese waltz. His hands guiding, and thigh against mine, he led me through the steps until I caught on to our movement. I relaxed into his weight-shifting signals with the tiniest dip of his shoulder beneath my hand. We whirled, stepped, spun…
I’d never danced with a lead so skilled. Not only were we turning this metal song into our own ballroom debut, we were slowly making our way across the dance floor toward the exit. If we could slip through the bar looking like we were having a twirl, then make a break for it...
It’d never occurred to my knocking knees that we could dance our way out of this. Dancing I could do, anytime, anywhere. I was this close to freedom. To sleep.
He dipped me with my sinking movement, fingertips cutting hard into my back to bring me to my senses. I felt them at first, then I didn’t.
“What say we get some air, hmm?” Aeron asked, propelling me toward the door with a spin.
Barring our way was John.
“Hold on, I believe I had a prior engagement with this young lady.” John held out his hand to stay Aeron.
Aeron pulled me behind him, steadying my stumble. “You talking to me, or chewin’ a brick? ‘Cos eivver way, you’re gonna get your teef broken. Now sling it, shortarse, before I teach you some manners.”
“You’ll teach me?” John threw his head back and laughed. “You underestimate me, dude. Back off now, while you’ve got all your teeth in that mouth.” His hand reached for my elbow.
“Yeah, orright.” Aeron pivoted me out of his grasp, setting me on a chair before stepping in front of me, his full bulk between me and John. Then, he whipped back around and punched John square in the mouth.
Before I could react, John threw a nasty straight punch that caught Aeron in the shoulder. He tried to follow up with a kick, but Aeron had already slid back with the momentum, settling into a defensive stance.
The next blow missed short as Aeron shuffled back a step.
There was stillness for a second as all eyes in the bar turned toward the fighters.
John struck first, grazing Aeron’s cheek before dancing backward again, sliding between some chairs to put a table between him and his opponent. “Give up, while the gettin’s good!”
Aeron charged through the table between them with a loud grunt. One hand grasped John by the hair as the other crashed uppercut after uppercut into the smaller man’s jaw. “Watchin’, listenin’, or strikin’? What’s it tonight?” His elbow smashed across John’s jawbone.
My vision went blurry, then dark for a second. I rubbed my eyes and found they could open again.
With a moan, John sank to the floor. “Go die in a fire, freak blood,” he managed, spitting blood of his own.
Aeron pulled me up and behind him. “Yeah, but your blood’s so useless I can’t even summon your baby sister’s pet chinchilla wiv it.”
John’s swelling upper lip curved back in a snarl as he tried to scramble to his feet, then thought the better of it. “Give it a few more years, and yours won’t flow through anyone’s veins. The age of necros is long past. I’m just the cleanup crew.”
“So the ‘and strikes, is it? My regards to your agency.” Aeron flashed a triumphant smile. “They really know how to pick ‘em.” He gave a mock salute, then kicked John in the nuts. “Cheers, mate. ‘At one’s for the drugs. One low blow deserves anovver.”
To the rest of the stunned onlookers, Aeron gave a little wave. “Somebody mix this bloke a drink on me, for ‘is trouble.”
I eyed the ten-dollar bill Aeron wadded up and tossed in John’s lap as the watchling doubled over. Somehow, it seemed to have kept anyone from trying to apprehend us. That, or I was just far too woozy to notice anything beyond the three feet in front of my nose.
As I grasped Aeron’s hand to follow him out the door, John’s dark chuckle sent a shiver up my spine. I turned to witness John’s bleeding lips pull back in a ravening grin, his eyes sparkling with hatred and malice.
“That’s where you’re wrong, London!” John called, licking blood off his teeth. “I’m only the Watcher.”
Aeron ignored him, instead pulling me close and whispering in my ear. “We missed our window, so we’ve gotta be sly,” he hissed as he pulled me through the door and into the night. We kept to the shadows, dodging around behind the bar.
“Were you following me?” I asked, my words slurring. “‘Cause you sure got here quick.”
“Nah, ‘at was Don, and ‘e called me in before you did. I got your text at a red light on my way ‘ere.”
> I registered his arm around my waist as the world got fuzzy. We were sprinting pell-mell toward his bike, which he’d parked under a fire escape. I tried to keep my focus on the yellow streetlamp glinting off the motorcycle’s chrome-detailed handlebars.
It kept flickering, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out if I was blinking or if the light was.
“No, nonono…” Aeron dropped to a crouch behind the corner of the building we’d just passed, trapping me against the brick with his body weight. He pulled an earpiece from his pocket, then pressed a button on his phone. “Eyes and ears, Don. I’ve just pissed ‘em off.”
“What are we doing?” I whispered loudly, glancing around his restraining elbow. “There’s nothing in the alley.”
“Look at the trash,” Aeron hissed, then I lost the ability to comprehend what he was saying.
I shut my eyes and slumped against the brick wall, trying to find something solid in the spinning world. When I opened them again, I focused on a crumpled piece of newspaper the breeze was blowing around the alley we were watching.
Suddenly, it flattened as if someone had dropped an invisible piano on it.
My mouth went dry. “Did I just see…”
“Shh.” With a shudder, Aeron flinched. A trickle of red ran from beneath the leather sleeve of his jacket, then across the back of his hand.
“You’re bleeding again!” I whispered.
He nodded once, a finger to his lips, then turned his palm upward toward the cloudy night. Drip by drip, before it could pool in his palm, the blood released itself from his hand and flew into the sky. Like rain in reverse, the drips flipped gravity on its head. A few feet up, each drop disappeared in a tendril of dark smoke.
With a grunt, Aeron slapped his palm to the ground. It didn’t even leave a streak. “Let’s go!” He snatched me up by the waist and made a break for his bike.
As we passed the piece of trash, it floated free again, albeit crushed flat. It skittered across the pavement as I fixated on it.
“Lessie! C’mon!” He patted the seat on the back as the bike roared to life.
I stumbled forward, throwing my leg over the seat with considerable effort to aim it properly. I was seeing two motorcycle seats at this point, and only by switching my gaze between the two of them was I able to gauge which one I was trying to mount at all. Finally, I got my leg over the motorcycle’s seat. Wait… I can’t ride like this. I can’t even walk.
Aeron shoved his helmet down on my head, buckling the strap beneath my chin. “Hurry, hurry…” His fingers fumbled a bit and he swore. “Crack on! Fuck!” He pulled off his jacket, wrapping me in it, then zipping it up. I felt like a toddler getting dressed.
He tried to mount behind me, but couldn’t quite get the angle he needed to drive, so he got up and re-mounted in front of me. Swearing under his breath, Aeron pulled my arms around his waist and locked my right hand over the opposite wrist. “Hold like that, orright? Don’t let go.”
“I’ll… try.” All the movement was nauseating me, and it was all I could do to stay upright. The helmet smelled like Aeron’s sweat and old shaving cream. The face shield darkened my view of the road as the steady putter of the engine roared, and we took off.
I leaned my head on his back as my weight seemed to float, shift. G-forces pulled me down, then up, as if I was on a roller coaster, not a motorcycle. I couldn’t tell which way my body was oriented anymore. All I could do was grip my hands and lay against his back, absorbing all the warmth radiating off his body, head throbbing with the steady, elevated rhythm of his heartbeat.
I’m gonna be sick. I’m gonna fall. I’m gonna be a smear on the pavement. I clenched my hands harder. I could only feel three fingers of each one anymore. I was on a runaway horse, just waiting for it to tire. We were galloping flat out across a wide open plain in the bright sunlight.
“You’re doin’ great,” Aeron called back to me.
I couldn’t even understand what I said back to him. He was riding beside me as I held onto my horse, my arms disappearing at the elbows as warmth spread up them. We cornered barrels like the old days, my next oldest brother and me always taking gold because we were allowed to ride the biggest horses. Our feet barely touched the stirrups, bless us, and the tame old creatures took some convincing to get up to speed.
The next moment, I was riding next to my high school sweetheart instead, teaching him for the first time, reveling in his wide-eyed terror and wonder as his ash-blonde waves bounced and slapped his face. His teenaged elbows flapped wide like an idiot as he tried to rein in the wrong style. My laughter was so loud it sounded like gunfire in my ears.
Then he rode off without me. The sunset called him but left me behind. She called him, her dead eyes and emaciated figure holding out a bony hand from the beyond where I couldn’t go. He reached for it, blood blossoming like a bright hibiscus flower on his back as the bull’s horn pierced through his stomach.
Together they rode on, while I screamed alone.
“Take me with you! Don’t leave me here!” I sobbed, reaching out a hand through the swirling rage.
“‘Ey, don’t let go!” Aeron’s elbow trapped my arm, holding me up as I began to slip. He braked hard, skidding to a stop as the bike tipped. The force of the sudden skid tumbled me onto the ground. The motorcycle slid down a short embankment, with me rolling helplessly after it.
The ground was nice and still when I came to a stop, but the world still felt like it was roaring past. The vibration from thundering vehicles rumbled the earth beneath my cheek as Aeron unbuckled the helmet. My stomach lurched at the fresh air, emptying its contents into dewy, tall grass.
Aeron clambered back up to the top of the embankment, scanning the two-lane highway, evaluating the headlamps as they roared past.
I laid my head back down on the wet pillow, the grass’ blades tickling my face as I waited for my stomach to behave again. Aeron’s hands fumbled in the jacket pockets at my sides, pulling his phone free.
“The good news is we lost our tail. The bad news is I’m gonna need an extraction.” Aeron’s voice had an edge to it I didn’t share. Why can’t he just chill? It’s so nice here... “Just get your arse over ‘ere.”
My world went black. When it came back again, I was in Aeron’s arms, being lowered to his futon. I turned my head to kiss him.
He pushed me away. “Not like this. Wait ‘til you’ll remember.”
“I’ll… remember…” Then I was out again.
Chapter 23 – Whose Powers
When I awoke again, morning sunlight cast shadows on the windowsill. Fluffy the cactus and Aeron’s bottle ornament stood in relief against the bright light. The sweet scent of pork cooking and the clattering of pots and pans hit me at the same time as the cool morning air.
Through the wall next to my head, Aeron’s neighbors’ television droned in an irritating monotone. If I tried, I could even make out the words to whatever news show was playing.
Don’s voice, not Aeron’s, greeted me from the kitchen. “Morning, sunshine! Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!” A few choice curses followed under his breath, then he continued, “Welp, I tried to make cream of wheat, but cream of wheat is a bitch. So, I made a cream of wheat. It’s a big-ass blob. Bacon and eggs are edible, though, and there were some wraps in the fridge.”
I sat up quickly, peeking over the back of the futon to catch sight of him padding around the kitchen like a buff granny. “What happened?”
Don laughed. “Look who’s rising and shining! The short answer is that we got you back here safe and sound. Lyons should be getting in from his ‘real’ job any time now, it’s a new day, and the possibilities abound!” He flipped a couple eggs over easy as they sizzled in the bacon grease. “How’re you feeling?”
I took a quick self-assessment and wasn’t thrilled. “Off. Sore.” A vague notion hit me that I’d rolled off a moving motorcycle down a hill last night, but there weren’t any stains on my shirt to match that hypothesis. My hand
went through my hair and came back with grass. So, that was real. What else was?
“I might need the long version, too,” I admitted. “Was there a… bar fight?”
“Hell if I know.” Don chuckled amidst creating the most racket possible with the cookware. “The watchlings have worked out who you are and where you work. I managed to derail the one who followed you to the bar, but while I was setting up shop, your guy slipped in.” He sounded a bit apologetic. “They had about five more surrounding the place by the time Lyons showed up, ready to move the second they got you away from the normals.”
“What do they want with me?” I rubbed my aching temples, tucking my legs under me. “Am I some kind of chosen savior prophesied to bring harmony?”
Don’s grin disappeared as his spatula hovered for a moment. “He didn’t tell you?”
I shook my head slowly, leaning against the back of the futon in regret as the throbbing blossomed behind my temples. Man, I’m fuzzy this morning, and sore. Like, everywhere.
“Sonofa mother...” His gaze lowered to the pan as he slid the eggs onto a plate. He refilled the pan with bacon, which started sizzling and shrinking the second it made contact with the heat. “More like the antichrist.”
I started up to my full height, stumbling off the futon. “Wait. I’m some kind of antichrist? Sweet little Celeste, me?” I batted my eyelashes, then gave an incredulous laugh. “I’m sorry, but have you met me?”
Don’s grin widened with vicious humor. “You never know. Those cute little women, can’t underestimate ‘em.” Giving the bacon a quick flip, he shook salt and pepper over the plates like he needed the sky to open up and rain flavor.
“You’re the second person to tell me that.” I put my fists on my hips, puffing myself up to prove his point. “Tell me, do all you necromancers have such idiotic generalizations of women, or have I just happened to meet the unlucky pair?”
“Oohoo!” Don let out a belly laugh as he brought two heaping plates with him into the living area. “I see why he li… ahem.” He coughed suddenly, his face reddening a bit.
