The Church of Sleep (Central Series Book 5)

by Zachary Rawlins

  “What happens, now?” Gabby sat up, rubbing her back. “What do we do?”

  “I don’t know,” Maxim said. “I never had any intention of taking you prisoner.”

  “We don’t have to be enemies,” Gabby said. “We don’t need to fight just because everyone else is.”

  “You make it sound as if you aren’t a part of it.”

  “I don’t mean it like that. I understand. I would have killed you if I could have.”

  “Yeah. Are you trying to empathize with me, again?”

  “I can’t help it. We’ve started to understand each other. This is just normal human stuff, Maxim.”

  “I don’t see how that helps, in the current circumstances.”

  “I’m not saying that it does or doesn’t. It’s just how things work. We’ve been open with one another. Shared secrets. It’s natural to feel a certain closeness, I think.”

  “That’s not what happened,” Maxim growled. “You were messing with my head.”

  “I am trying to survive,” Gabby said defiantly. “I told you I would do anything. I warned you.”

  Maxim shook his head.

  “I regret not shooting you when I had the chance,” Maxim said. “Instead of asking you questions, I should have put a bullet in your head.”

  “There you go again,” Gabby said, smiling. “Sharing. You’re opening up to me, Maxim!”

  “I am doing no such thing!”

  “You are and you know it,” Gabby enthused. “It was very crass of me to try what I did, to invade your mind and fail to notice something as basic as your…” Gabby blushed, gestured helplessly. “…orientation.” She tittered nervously. “I should have been more thoughtful in my approach, and not just made assumptions based on your appearance.”

  “My appearance?” Maxim glanced down at himself. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Now that we’ve moved past our initial misunderstanding, there’s finally room for our relationship to develop,” Gabby said, smiling warmly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we end up the very best of friends!”

  “I don’t think so,” Maxim said, sitting down on the other side of the camp stove. “We are on the opposite sides of a war, remember? There’s only two ways for this to go.”

  “What are they?”

  “Either I kill you, or you kill me,” Maxim said. “That’s it. I don’t plan on dying.”

  “Who does? You aren’t a very creative thinker, are you?” Gabby laughed. “I can think of many other possibilities.”

  “Oh, please. Your first idea failed miserably. What else could you possibly try?”

  “It did not fail miserably,” Gabby said, with an affronted look. “We reached an accord! You cannot just discount that sort of progress in our relationship.”

  “We don’t have any sort of relationship,” Maxim snapped. “I have no idea why I haven’t killed you.”

  “You can’t, and you don’t want to,” Gabby reminded him. “There’s more to human interaction than friendship and love, you know. There are all sorts of relationships, Maxim. Even whatever is going on between us qualifies.”

  Six

  Day One

  The hotel was situated in the heart of the Strip and had been designed for Chinese tourists, with red drapes and gold trim on the mirrors, staff that switched effortlessly between Mandarin and English, and tasteful displays of art, pieces from the Chinese diaspora placed alongside archaeological relics of the Middle Kingdom.

  Arriving in a small fleet of limousines, they were met by eager staff at the sidewalk, and whisked through the main lobby to a private lounge while a pair of hosts made arrangements behind a counter of dappled marble. Tea and hot towels were provided, but the delay was so brief that the tea had hardly cooled to a drinkable temperature before they were escorted to a private set of elevators.

  Anastasia went up first, flanked by her maids and her vampire bodyguard.

  The Auditors had to wait until the remainder of Anastasia’s servants and luggage were conveyed to their rooms, attentive staff buzzing about them, taking drink orders and enumerating the hotel’s amenities.

  The elevators were silver and glass capsules, big enough for a score of passengers. A helpful woman in a red jacket worked the elevator panel for them, and then pointed out sites of interest during the brief climb.

  They exited at the penthouse level, and were met by a legion of bellhops, one tasked to each of them. Their rooms were adjoining, clustered at the end of a hallway that terminated with a fire door. Alice followed the bellhop into her room, and then hurried him out before he could finish explaining the room service and entertainment options.

  She closed the door behind him, and then hesitated, taking in the opulent lounge, the well-appointed kitchenette, and beyond that, the gaudily appointed bedroom and bathroom. The carpet and drapes were done in the red and gold motif of the hotel, and the furnishings were unblemished white and mostly leather. There were ashtrays and corded phones in both rooms, which struck Alice as amusing anachronisms amid so much luxurious modernity.

  Alice looked around the room uncertainly. Her field gear was so dirty that she was afraid to touch any of the furniture, for fear of staining it.

  She pulled off her boots, and then wriggled her toes, enjoying the way her feet sank into the plush crimson carpet.

  Examining the shower and whirlpool tub, Alice decided that she was taking a bath.

  A polite knock at the door interrupted her. She opened it, expecting to see the bellhop, and instead a polite staff member rolled a cart into the room, placing an ice bucket filled with Chinese beer that Alice remembered ordering on the kitchenette counter, along with a pot of tea, a fruit basket, and a plate of appetizers she did not remember requesting. Alice was still wondering if a tip was expected when the staffer slipped back out of the door, careful to shut it softly behind him.

  Alice shook her head, grabbed a bottle and an opener, and then went to the bathroom.

  She took her harness and clothes off, and then kicked them aside. The tile was cool and textured like sand beneath her feet. She started to run herself a bath, adding a small bottle of scented bath oil she found near the faucet, and then stepped into the shower. She turned it on full blast, stifling a cry as cold water beat down on her head. She waited until the water that pooled at her feet was no longer brown, and then she turned the dial to warm and soaped up. When she decided she was clean enough, she turned off the shower, and then moved to the nearly full bathtub, dripping all over the bathroom floor on the way. She put her beer in an accessible corner, and then put one foot in the bath, making a face at the temperature.

  The water in the bath was so hot it took her a full minute to get in.

  She soaked for a half-hour or so before returning to the kitchen for another beer, leaving a trail of wet footprints across the carpet.

  She finished the second beer, and then stayed in the bath until the water had cooled.

  Alice dried off, dropping the used towel on the bathroom floor, and then used a blow-dryer on her hair. She wrapped herself in another towel, and then went to lie on the bed, which was like a particularly buoyant cloud made of linen and silk, to peruse the hotel directory of services.

  The bellhop had brought her bags, but that was mostly field gear.

  Alice called the concierge and had a short conversation. She provided her sizes and preferences, and then took a short nap atop the fluffy white duvet. When she woke up the sun had almost set, and there was a pair of red boxes waiting just outside her door. Alice brought them back and opened them on the bed, tearing through layers of delicate crepe paper.

  The jeans were black selvedge denim, brand new and never washed, the kind that would leave faint dye stains on her skin. Beneath the jeans, a few different tops were folded in a neat stack. Alice tried all three on, but settled on the first, a grey merino wool top that was light and breezy.

  Below that was a selection of undergarments, ranging from practical to risqué. After long
consideration, Alice selected a lacey matched set in black. She laid the clothes out on the bed beside a pair of cheap sandals from her kit bag and her chrome-buckled belt.

  She put on the underwear, and then took the smaller of the boxes to the damp bathroom, opening it on the counter.

  She liked the selection of makeup that had been provided less than the clothes, but after a few minutes of experimentation, she settled on a mascara and a complementary shade of lipstick.

  Alice finished a third beer while she applied makeup, worrying over the prominence of the lines around her eyes and forehead, wondering if it was age, or just the lighting in the bathroom. She brushed her teeth with a travel-sized toothbrush, gargled mouthwash that was the exact shade of Windex, and then knocked on the door to the adjoining room.

  There was a rattle of bolts and latches, and then the door opened.

  Alice marched past Xia into his room, wearing only her newly acquired underwear.

  He had already stripped the linens from the bed, wrapping the mattress, and nearly every other surface he might touch, with layers of plastic wrap. Alice was careful not to touch anything as she made her way to his kitchen.

  “What do you think, Xia?” Alice asked, looking through Xia’s refrigerator. “Is this swanky enough for you?”

  Xia nodded, moving aside his filtration mask to take a sip from a bottle of spring water.

  “You nervous?” Alice rummaged through his refrigerator, settling on a cheese plate that she knew Xia would never touch. “What about? What happens tomorrow, or…?”

  She took the cheese plate to the lounge, sitting on the plastic-wrapped couch.

  “The Black Sun,” Alice said, smearing brie on a sesame cracker. “Anastasia Martynova and her personal jihad. I get it. She’s a tricky one. We’ll have to be careful, or we’ll end up working for her without even realizing it.”

  Xia set aside the bottle of water, watching her closely.

  Alice stretched out on the couch, kicking her legs up on one of the arms, the plastic wrap crinkling beneath her. Xia watched intently as she popped green grapes into her mouth.

  “All we’ve got to work with is the kids,” Alice sighed. “I wish we at least still had Karim.”

  Xia took a seat on a plastic-wrapped chair on the other side of the room.

  “You think so?” Alice considered it over a slice of aged Pecorino. “I don’t feel like I have the best track record. I’ve lost more Auditors in a month than Alastair did in five years.”

  Xia shook his head.

  “You’re sweet to say it,” Alice said, the plastic beneath her crinkling as she rolled to her stomach. “I’m sure Alistair or Becca would have done a better job. I love Auditing, but I’m not cut out to be a leader, or to teach these kids anything. It’s not in my nature.”

  Xia scratched the side of his nose. Alice kicked her legs up playfully as she finished the grapes.

  “I know what Becca thinks. I know what Mikey thinks, too, if he’s still alive. They’re both wrong about me,” Alice said, stretching languidly. “You’re the only one who really knows me, Xia. You know I’m not meant for this.”

  Xia mopped his forehead with a handkerchief that went immediately into the trash.

  “I guess that’s why I’m okay with this Black Sun deal,” Alice said. “I’m inevitably going to end up the bad guy, one way or the other. I’m much more comfortable that way. You know how it is. How I am.”

  Xia tugged the blue gloves he wore off, and tossed them in the trash, immediately replacing them with a new pair.

  “I suppose you’re right. Still gotta get the kids home safe, then I can worry about Central. It’s always something, isn’t it?” She stood, peeling herself slowly off the plastic wrap, and then smiled at Xia. “Whatever happens will happen, I suppose. Anyway, if I’m going to go out at all tonight, I’ve got to finish getting ready. This underwear,” Alice said, with a provocative gesture, “won’t work at all, either. Lucky you – they gave me three other options.”

  She walked by Xia back toward her room, tugging at the straps of her bra as she went.

  “You wanna come watch me change?”

  Xia followed after her, careful not to touch anything in her room.

  ***

  Ugh! So gross! Hayley lay face down on the bedsheets and pulled a pillow over her head. I hate being a telepath! I hate maintaining the encrypted channel! Why does everyone have to be so icky?

  You know I’m hearing this right? In the next room, Min-jun idly flipped through cable channels, never lingering on a channel long enough to get involved in the programming. Are you broadcasting on accident?

  I wanted you to hear it, Hayley thought from beneath the pillow. Misery loves company, and all that.

  If you say so.

  Aren’t you going to ask what’s bothering me?

  I was not planning to do that, no.

  I’m going to tell you anyway, Hayley thought. They are at it again.

  Min-jun sighed, flipped off the television, and closed his eyes.

  Okay, fine, Min-jun thought. Who is doing what?

  Ms. Gallow is changing in front of Xia. Again.

  That’s weird, Min-jun thought. Don’t they have separate rooms?

  Yes, of course! I’ve told you about this before. Karim mentioned something weird about it, once, and since…I can’t help but notice it. Despite the lack of inflection in telepathic communication, Min-jun could feel Hayley’s discomfort. It’s so gross!

  Why is that gross? They’re both adults. Whatever they want to do on their down time is fine by…

  Ms. Gallow is seeing Mr. Lacroix. You know that. Everyone knows that.

  That’s not my business, Min-jun thought, glad Hayley was a poor empath, so he didn’t have to hide his annoyance. What if Ms. Gallow and Mr. Lacroix have some sort of arrangement? That works for some people, you know.

  If you were a telepath, you’d know that it hardly ever does, whatever people say, Hayley thought, flinging her pillow across the room. Almost everyone is jealous almost all the time. I can’t express the extent of it accurately, but trust me, it’s universal.

  Even if Ms. Gallow is cheating on Mr. Lacroix, though, I just don’t see…

  She isn’t even cheating. That’s the weird part, Hayley thought, diving beneath the blankets and huddling there with her hands over her ears. Xia won’t touch anyone, you know.

  Yeah, I know. I guess I was a bit surprised that…

  They never actually…you know. Do anything. She just…shows off for him. Changing, showering, swimming, that sort of thing. Xia just watches her.

  Min-jun rolled over and turned off the bedside lamp. The room was still moderately bright, the lights of the Vegas strip bleeding through the gauzy inner curtain.

  That’s a bit odd, Min-jun admitted. I don’t see anything wrong with it, though.

  I didn’t say wrong, I said gross. I don’t care what they do, I just don’t want to be a part of it.

  I can’t blame you for that. Can’t you just block it out?

  Not if I’m keeping the encrypted channel active for emergencies, Hayley thought. I can’t risk it.

  No, you can’t, Min-jun agreed. Ms. Gallow would probably kill you for real.

  She probably would.

  I can’t decide if they just forgot about me, Hayley thought, or if Ms. Gallow is some sort of exhibitionist. Maybe she even likes it better that way?

  I don’t know, Min-jun said, settling in his bed. If I had to guess, that’s what Xia is into, not Ms. Gallow.

  How would you know?

  I don’t know. I said it was a guess.

  Okay. Why do you think that?

  Seems like more of a guy thing, for one, Min-jun thought. As you said yourself, Xia won’t touch anyone. I’ve heard rumors that Xia and Ms. Gallow go way back. Maybe she’s just doing him a favor?

  Maybe, Hayley though doubtfully. It doesn’t feel like she minds.

  I didn’t say she did.

  I do fe
el bad for Xia, and everything. He seems nice, once you get past all the compulsions and trauma and OCD.

  We all have stuff we like to do in private, Min-jun thought, beginning to drift off. I don’t think that’s so objectionable.

  Easy for you to say, Hayley thought. You don’t have to be a part of it.

  Min-jun did not bother to reply, his mind beginning to wander, his bed bathed in lurid neon.

  He was almost out when a gentle nudge from Hayley woke him.

  Min-jun? Did you fall asleep?

  Very nearly, Min-jun thought, rolling over. What is it, Hayley?

  Nothing.

  Just go ahead. I’m up, now.

  It’s really nothing. I mean, they stopped. Ms. Gallow went out, and…it’s nothing.

  The more you say that, the less convinced I become, Min-jun thought, yawning into his pillow. What is it?

  I don’t know. It just feels…do you think this is the end, Min-jun? I mean, whatever is going on with the Ether, and that World Tree, and the Anathema. And now there’s a war in Central!

  I’d like to think the world won’t end. Why?

  It just feels that way, I guess.

  Min-jun tossed and turned for a moment, and then he sighed and turned the light back on. He got up from bed and went to the door to the adjoining room, undoing the chain and releasing the bolt, and then knocked softly.

  Hayley opened it a moment later, her eyes widening when she saw Min-jun standing there in his boxers.

  “You seem anxious,” Min-jun said, rubbing his eyes. “Do you want to watch a movie with me?”

  Hayley gave him a look that was equal parts surprise and suspicion.

  “In your room?”

  “Or yours. I don’t care.”

  “Alone?”

  “You can invite Grigori if you want a chaperone,” Min-jun said, with a very slight grin.

  Hayley hesitated and glanced over at the disarray of her bed, the pillows tossed aside and the sheets half on the floor.

  “I’ll leave the door unlocked,” Min-jun said, scratching his bare chest. “If you want to come over, you can. If you don’t, no hard feelings.”