by Kallysten
* * * *
I’m fine.
The words continued to echo in the night and in Marc’s mind. Blake had repeated them so often since he had regained his voice that they didn’t seem to have any meaning left. I’m fine didn’t mean a thing anymore in regard to Blake’s mental or physical state. All it signified was his frustration that, no, he wasn’t fine; if he had been, Marc and Kate wouldn’t have needed to ask so often, even when they knew that the answer would be a lie.
It was undoubtedly a lie now.
Blake said he was well enough to keep going, but Marc hesitated, unsure how to proceed. They were close enough to the squad’s latest hunting grounds to reach the town before morning, but that also meant they were close enough to a breach to come across demons before they reached the safety of the fortifications.
With Blake still shaking from his latest trip into his memories, coming across demons was the last thing Marc wanted, even if killing something might have helped Marc get rid of the anger that he didn’t let himself show. It was getting harder to hold on to his temper and hide his frustration, even though he knew it was crucial for Blake’s sanity that he stay calm.
He remained outside the car after Blake had climbed back inside and slammed the door behind him. Kate lingered outside, but she didn’t say anything before finally joining Simon and Blake. Marc took deep breaths that were perfectly useless as far as oxygen was concerned, but the regular in and out, even so many decades after he had stopped needing to breathe, was still as calming as it had been when he had been human.
He could feel eyes on him as he stood beside the car. Kate had to be worried, and even without looking at her, he knew that she was biting her lower lip, the way she had recently started doing whenever she was upset and was trying not to show it. As for Simon… Marc didn’t really care what he thought, but he supposed Simon must be afraid; it seemed to be his default mode. Marc cared a lot more about what Blake was thinking, although he had no idea what it might be. Would Blake realize that Marc was trying to get rid of the acrid scent of anger? Or was he still too shaky to put it together yet? The old Blake, the Blake from before the demon dimension, would have known immediately what was going through Marc’s head. The thought did nothing to appease Marc, far from it.
Then again, nothing would appease Marc but the absolute certainty that Blake was completely fine, and they weren’t anywhere close to that point.
With a last deep exhalation, Marc pushed away his worries and finally returned to the car.
Kate was behind the wheel, so Marc climbed into the back with Blake. Neither of them said a word; Blake didn’t even look at him and kept his forehead pressed against the window.
* * * *
After decades of neglect, the best that could be said about the road was that it was there. Potholes peppered both lanes, and the asphalt was cracked in long, zigzag lines. Weeds and even sometimes tree seedlings grew in the cracks. With humans too busy fighting—too busy trying to survive—to care much about the conditions of roads they rarely used anymore, nature was reaffirming its rights. It made for exhausting driving during the day, since the driver’s attention needed to be constantly focused. At night, with potential obstacles shrouded by the darkness, it was even more tiring.
Somehow, though, Kate was glad for the state of the road that night. She had to be so attentive to what was in front of her wheels that there was no place left in her mind for other worries. No place to wonder what had set Blake off this time, or to point out to herself that she had been curled up against him at the time, and maybe she had caused it all.
Every few minutes she caught herself sneaking a glance at the rearview mirror. She knew she wouldn’t see Blake or Marc—vampires didn’t cast reflections—but still she looked and ached when her eyes found nothing but emptiness. She had been away from them for so long that she couldn’t bear the thought of losing them again—either of them. Yet when things took a turn for the worse like tonight, when the three of them stood together, close enough to touch but barely daring to do that much, let alone say what was truly on their minds, she felt incredibly lonely.
She and Marc had been tiptoeing around Blake for a long time, afraid to further hurt him if they pushed too hard and demanded answers from him. But would they ever get anywhere if they didn’t talk? How could they help Blake when they could only guess what was hurting him? How would any of them get what they needed from the others if none of them dared to ask for it?
Somewhere on that dark, treacherous road, Kate made a decision she had been avoiding until then. Leaving Riverton was going to be the fresh start they needed. From now on, she wouldn’t accept Blake’s refusal to talk anymore. She would push, even if it hurt him—even if it hurt all of them. They couldn’t let things fester anymore.
As soon as they arrived, she told herself, things would change. She would sit down with Blake and Marc, and they would talk.
Her plan lasted up to the moment when she parked the car in front of the squad’s headquarters in Newton Falls. She shook Simon awake and flashed a smile at Marc and Blake. They both returned it, but their smiles were strained. Kate’s heart ached, and her resolve strengthened. It would hurt even more when she started to push, but they would all be better for it in the end.
When she stepped out of the car, however, she realized that the long night was not anywhere near over yet. Daniel came out of the building to greet them. He offered Simon and Marc a handshake, Kate a brief hug, and Blake a nod, and with that the social time was over.
“I’m glad you arrived so early,” he said. “Let’s have a briefing right away, and we’ll get into the thick of things tomorrow night.”
‘Early’ was not the word Kate would have used. It was three or four hours past midnight, after all, and while she had had no intention of going to bed yet, a briefing wasn’t anything she’d have chosen. No one protested, however, and Marc even asked Daniel a few questions about the situation around Newton Falls. Simon was yawning widely but following nonetheless. And Blake… Blake still looked half caught up in the bad dream that had shaken him earlier.
Kate slipped her hand into his and squeezed lightly when he looked at her. He squeezed back, but moments later when they entered Daniel’s office, Blake let go of her hand and let her enter before him. When he followed, his hands were deep in his pants pockets. He remained standing, leaning against the wall on the side of the room while the rest of them took seats around Daniel’s desk. Kate wasn’t the only one who noticed that Blake was standing apart; she caught Marc’s gaze, and they shared a brief, worried look. Daniel, however, was already spreading out a map on his desk and talking about the demon attacks and the breach.
With a shake of her head, Kate focused on what Daniel was saying just as Simon leaned forward in his chair, eyes wide and expression eager.
“What kind of magic is it? Does the breach start closing at all? Did the other mages find out anything about it?”
Daniel riffled through a few pieces of paper on his desk, picked up one, and handed it over. Simon snatched it with eager hands and started reading, his mouth forming silent words. When Kate gave Daniel a questioning look, he reclined in his chair and said over his steepled fingers, “They have no clue what’s going on, just that some kind of magic is blocking the spell.”
“It has happened before,” Marc said, drawing Kate’s and Daniel’s gazes. “Not with breaches, with demons themselves. Back when they first appeared, mages tried to fight them with magic. A spell would work once or twice, but then the demons would adapt somehow, and the spell would be useless.”
“Of course,” Blake said, his voice toneless. “They can do magic better than we can.”
Kate and Marc both turned to look at him. Even Simon stopped reading the report to stare. Blake shifted uncomfortably under their combined gazes.
“What?” he said, now sounding defensive. “Don’t tell me you didn’t figure that one out by now.”
“We did,” Kate said quietly, sharing a quick glance
with Marc. “It’s just…”
When she shrugged, Marc picked up where she had left off. “You never talk about the magic demons used when we ask.”
Blake’s expression closed off at once. His back turned ramrod straight, so that he seemed to gain a full inch in height. “I’m not…” He huffed. “I’m just pointing out the obvious, that’s all. It’s not like I know exactly what kind of magic they can do.”
Kate turned back toward Daniel, hoping to hide her frustration. She couldn’t understand why Blake refused to talk about it all. They already knew the outline of what had happened—so what was the point of keeping details from them? Marc had tried to let him go at his own pace and there was no progress that she could see. She really had to sit him and Marc down and shake things up.
“So what’s the plan?” she asked Daniel, and was relieved when her voice remained steady.
Daniel’s gaze flicked between Blake and Marc for a few seconds, before focusing on Kate again.
“Simon closed more breaches than any other mage,” he said, briefly tilting his head toward Simon, who was back to reading over the reports from the other mages. “I hope he’ll be able to tell us what’s different about this breach. As soon as he can devise a way to figure that out, we’ll take him there and see what we can learn.”
As soon as he finished, Simon answered. “Just give me a few hours. I know a couple of ways to detect magic. I should be able to adapt them by to—” He hurriedly covered his mouth and a wide yawn. “Tomorrow night,” he finished. “Or tonight, since I guess it’s already tomorrow.”
“I could take him during the day,” Kate offered. “Less chance of coming across demons then.”
Daniel shook his head. “You don’t know the terrain. I’d send you with the rest of the squad, but it’s only three of them right now, and that’s not enough, even for reconnaissance.”
Kate frowned and wanted to ask questions—were the other squad members wounded, or fighting elsewhere, maybe? But already Marc was nodding and saying, “Tomorrow night.” His eyes shifted toward Blake. “That way we’ll all get back into the swing of things.”
He meant Blake, of course. They all knew it, Blake included; he threw a blank look at Marc, and a muscle ticked in his cheek, but he didn’t say anything.
“Tomorrow night,” Daniel repeated, and his tone of voice made it clear that it was his decision to make, not Marc’s. If Marc noticed, he didn’t show it. Daniel stood, clearly putting an end to the meeting. “I have rooms ready for you. The squad is on the third floor. I’ll show you there.”
After such a long night, rest sounded heavenly. There was just this one thing Kate had promised herself she’d do today, and she wouldn’t wait any longer, not even if she was tired, not even if she knew it would make everything harder for now.
Chapter 5
As soon as Kate pushed open the door, a sense of deep familiarity swept over her.
When fighting in the City, the squad had set up in barracks in a nearby camp, but when on R&R in the town of Claremont, the fighters had stayed in a converted hotel. The arrangement was standard in most cities, and nothing looked more like a hotel room than another hotel room. Colors changed, some places were better maintained than others, some mattresses were narrower, others more comfortable, but in the end it was always a bland room, a bed, desk, and chair, and heavy drapes over the windows.
She thought, briefly, that she would have to remember to thank Daniel for getting them a room with one huge bed, but maybe that wasn’t necessary; she didn’t really care to bring up that topic of conversation with him. It was hard enough to talk about it with Blake and Marc.
Hard, but necessary. And she would do it tonight, damn it.
She went inside with Blake and Marc in tow, and they all set their travel bags against the wall.
“This is just like…” The words remained stuck in her throat, and she couldn’t continue.
“Lakeview,” Marc finished for her.
She turned to flash him a smile, grateful that he understood and remembered those happier times when everything had seemed possible.
“Is it?” Blake asked, sounding confused. He looked around the room with a frown. “I don’t…”
Kate’s smile faltered. “Like my room,” she said quietly. “Just…a bigger bed.”
Blake still looked uncertain, as though he were trying to reconcile his memories with the room around him. Kate’s heart tightened. Her face must have betrayed how upset she was becoming, because Marc reached out and rubbed his hand up and down her back.
“All hotel rooms look the same after a while,” he said, his eyes flicking toward Blake.
“Ah, yes.” The shadow of a smile touched Blake’s lips. “Of course.”
Why did he sound like he was just saying what he thought they wanted to hear—again?
“It’s okay if you don’t remember,” Kate said. The words scratched her throat like shards of glass. “You don’t have to say you do. You don’t have to lie, Blake. Not about that, not about anything.”
Marc’s hand stilled on Kate’s back, and somehow it felt like a warning. She was entering deep waters, Marc was telling her. Treading them might be dangerous for all of them. She knew that even more acutely because Blake had gone completely rigid at her comment, and he was being very careful not to look at her.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he said, picking up his backpack again. “I won’t be long.”
If his words hadn’t been enough of a clue that he didn’t want company, the snick of the bathroom being locked certainly was. Kate flinched at the sound and instinctively turned to Marc, throwing her arms around him and pressing her face against his chest.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Marc asked in a whisper, stroking her back once more.
The shower was already running in the bathroom, the rush of water probably loud enough to cover their voices, but Kate spoke as quietly as he had.
“We can’t go on like this,” she said and looked up at Marc, meeting his eyes and willing him to see how serious she was. “We can’t let him hide anymore, or he’ll never get better.”
Marc’s features darkened. He pulled the chair out from the desk and sat down. Kate refused to let go of him, and she stood between his parted legs, her arms locked around his neck, now looking down into sorrow-filled eyes.
“Kate… He’ll talk when he’s ready. We can’t demand this from him. It would only damage him more.”
Kate shook her head. She wished her eyes would stop prickling. “But he won’t talk about it, can’t you see? He thinks it’d hurt us.” And he was probably right, but that wasn’t important. “He’s keeping all that poison inside, and it’ll keep festering until he lets it out. You know I’m right.”
Marc’s shoulders slumped in defeat. His eyes turned to the closed bathroom door, and his voice was even quieter still when he said, “I can’t force him to talk. I don’t want to force him to do anything he doesn’t want.”
He didn’t explain why, but he didn’t have to. Kate understood that he didn’t want Blake to see in Marc his jailer and torturer—his Master.
“Then let me do the pushing,” she said, more urgently now because the water had stopped running. “We have to move on. We can’t stay like this forever. We can’t let him have nightmares forever.”
Before Marc could reply, the lock clicked open. They both turned to watch Blake leave the bathroom. He was only wearing his boxers, and a towel was draped over his shoulders, catching the water that dripped from his hair. He went very still when he saw them, like he always did whenever he caught them kissing or being affectionate.
“The water’s still running hot,” he said in a bland voice. “It doesn’t look like there are restrictions here.”
A beat passed without anyone speaking or moving. Marc finally stood and said, “I’ll go next, then.”
He gently unwound himself from Kate’s arms and leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek and murmur in her ear, “Okay. But be
gentle.”
Picking up his travel bag, he went into the bathroom, stopping briefly to run a hand through Blake’s wet hair and give him a smile. When the door closed on him, Blake looked at Kate, confusion coloring his gaze. Had he heard Marc’s admonition—or even more of their conversation? Kate’s heartbeat fluttered at the thought.
Kate climbed onto the bed and kneeled there, tapping the mattress in front of her gently. “Come sit with me,” she requested. “I’ll dry your hair.”
A flash of something dark and painful crossed Blake’s face, gone as soon as Kate noticed it, but he did approach her with slow, measured steps, and sat with his back to her on the edge of the bed where she had indicated. Kate picked up the white towel and started to rub his hair gently.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked in a whisper.
Blake gave a small shake of his head. “I’m not thinking about—”
“Don’t lie to me.” Somehow, it was easier to do this without looking at his face or the pain in his eyes—the mask he was so adept at wearing. “When you approached the bed, you almost flinched. Tell me why.”
She continued to towel his hair dry and could feel his head shaking minutely under her hands. He didn’t answer.
“We never talk anymore,” she said. “We just tiptoe around each other and don’t say what we think or want anymore and…and…it’s making everything more difficult. Not knowing what goes on in your head makes everything difficult.”
She dropped the towel, circled his torso with her arms, and pressed her face to his back. He smelled like soap, and she breathed in deep. The skin was smooth and perfect against her cheek, the scars from the beatings he had endured in the demon dimension long gone. She wished his mind—his heart—were free of scars, too.
“You don’t want to know what goes on in there,” he whispered in a tone that sounded like confession. “Messy place. I’m not done cleaning yet.”
“But I do want to know. How else am I going to help? How else are we going to help?”
