Lord of Legions

by T. R. Hamby

  “Get out,” he said harshly, his dark eyes glittering.

  Roone ground his teeth together, anger boiling inside him. But he got up, and wandered into the living area.

  A lot of cleaning had been done while Roone had been confined to his room. The sheets covering the furniture were gone, and all the surfaces had been dusted and polished. The air smelled like cleaner. The decor was very retro, and Roone assumed Melkira hadn’t had the house redecorated since he had last visited.

  Roone shook his head. How many women had Melkira tormented since then?

  There was a stack of boxes on the floor, in varying sizes, and Gabriel and Barry were unpacking them.

  “A blender?” Barry cried, prying open his box. “We couldn’t get a PlayStation, but we could get a blender?”

  Gabriel snickered, unearthing a laptop from his box. “How about this?”

  “Better than nothing….what is it?”

  “Lineware,” Roone said instantly, “D5, R4 maybe. 3070 GPU. One of the best.”

  He would know; he had used one before….before he had kidnapped Nora.

  Gabriel and Barry shot him dirty looks. He felt another surge of anger, but ignored it, and selected one of the bigger boxes to unpack. If he was going to stay here, he might as well make himself useful. Just until he could get to Nora. Make her see sense.

  The three spent the next hour unpacking boxes. Gabriel and Barry ignored him, and he ignored them.

  When the unpacking was done Roone was left to deconstruct the boxes. He kept an eye out while he did this. Gilla was sitting at the counter in the kitchen, working on her laptop, while Michael stood behind her, pointing at something on the screen. His free hand squeezed her shoulder.

  Barry and Gabriel were at the table, setting up the gaming laptop, chuckling and cracking grins. Gabriel whispered something in Barry’s ear, and Barry smiled, turned his head and kissed him.

  Roone’s hands shook. He was jealous--ridiculously jealous, jealous of people he didn’t even like.

  “Where should I put these?” he asked, breaking the two couples out of their little bubbles.

  They looked at him, annoyed.

  “There’s a bin in the back,” Michael said quietly.

  Roone gathered up the cardboard and set off for the back of the house.

  He would have to be careful. Yes. Introduce things to Nora slowly. Maybe she was regretting her decision to betray him. He would have to bank on that….remind her that she loved him….

  He could sense that the outside air was frigid. He strode through the snow to the bin and tossed the flattened boxes inside.

  Then he looked around. All around were trees and snow. There was a stone patio a few yards ahead, and even further were the stables he had seen from his window.

  He frowned. Something was moving in there. Horses?

  He slowly entered the large building. Sure enough, two of the stables were occupied by a horse. One was jet black, with a star on its chest, and the other was a chestnut brown. They observed him calmly.

  Roone held his hand out to the black horse. It considered him, and finally gave his hand a sniff. Roone gently stroked its neck, and he felt some of his anger vanish.

  Suddenly he felt a Presence, and looked over his shoulder. Melkira was approaching, arms folded, blue eyes glinting.

  He seemed calm. “That’s Elvis and Priscilla,” he said quietly. “I bought them for Nora.”

  Roone was on his guard now that he and Melkira were alone, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued. “I didn’t….I didn’t know she rides.”

  “She doesn’t,” Melkira replied, and his lips twitched. “She always wanted to learn. And horses are calming animals….I thought they would help her.”

  Roone’s hands balled into fists. “It would be better for her if you left her alone.”

  His face darkened. “Right,” he whispered, and the air grew colder, “I forgot who I was speaking with.”

  “Let her go,” Roone growled, ignoring the chill in the air. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

  “If she wanted to be with you, I would let her go,” he replied, though he sounded pained at the thought. “But she doesn’t. She wants to be with me. She loves me.”

  “Bullshit. You’ve been manipulating and controlling her for years. You’re Melkira. It’s what you do.”

  Melkira took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “I don’t know why I’m arguing with you.”

  “You won’t acknowledge what I said.”

  “What’s the point defending myself when you won’t believe it anyway?” he shot back. “Any little thing that has challenged your belief that Nora loves you is explained away for you. Convenient, isn’t it?”

  Roone frowned. No, that didn’t make sense….of course Melkira was controlling Nora….of course she loved Roone….

  He shook himself, and glowered at Melkira. “Don’t think you can get inside my head too, Melkira.”

  “First of all,” Melkira hissed, “my name is Mel. And second--you can choose to believe me or not. But I’m not mind controlling you. That’s not my Talent. You should know that. And even if it was, Nora would have become Immune to it by now. Two and a half years is a long time to be exposed to a Talent.”

  Roone stared at him, unsure of what to say.

  He had never thought of that before, and the revelation disturbed him.

  But he rallied. “You’re powerful. More powerful than an average Angel. You can do far more damage. Your Talents are stronger.”

  “There we go again, explaining things away,” Mel said, rolling his eyes. “Whatever. I came to feed the horses.”

  He considered him for a moment, and Roone felt that chill worsen. He felt a horrible sense of dread, and he shivered, backing away.

  “You have no idea what you’ve done to her,” Mel whispered dangerously.

  Roone took deep breaths, his heart pounding in his chest. He sank to his knees, shaking.

  He would not beg. He would not beg. He wouldn’t give the Great Melkira the satisfaction.

  But Mel didn’t look impressed. The cold lifted, and so did the fear.

  “She’s been having nightmares,” he said quietly. “All night. She’s been crying….crying a lot. She’s barely eating. That’s what you’ve done to her. And if you’re going to blame that all on me, then you’re a fool. Now get out.”

  It took Roone a moment to get his bearings. Mel stood there, looking away, his jaw working. Roone thought he saw tears in his eyes.

  He left the stables, and wandered aimlessly across the estate. Snow crunched beneath his shoes. He passed tree after tree, until he approached the creek, which was frozen.

  He cleared some snow off a fallen tree and sat down. And he thought.

  What Mel had said was stuck in his mind--all of it. Maybe it was all true….maybe Mel didn’t possess any special mind control powers. Maybe Nora was really….acting of her own accord.

  A wave of fear washed over him. If that was true, then that meant that Nora didn’t love him. Not even subconsciously. Which meant that all he had done for her….the abduction….had been for nothing. And not only had it been for nothing, but it had also caused her greater harm than she had probably ever experienced.

  If this was all true, then he was a monster.

  He held his head in his hands and trembled. She was having nightmares; she was barely eating. She was crying. Had he really done that to her? But he must have--after the things he had done.

  No, Melkira had done it….no, he hadn’t….why would he?

  Roone moaned, resting his head on his knees.

  He couldn’t be a monster. He couldn’t live with himself….please don’t let it be true….his dear Nora….

  I don’t care what you think. I don’t want to be with you, and I don’t love you. I will never love you. The only thing I feel for you is pity.

  Nora’s words echoed in his head.

  He sat like this for a while, struggling between his reality and Me
l’s. Only one of them was the truth, and it made him sick to know it might be Mel’s.

  He was exhausted, and finally got up to return to the house.

  He took a step forward, over the tree. He looked down as he did this, and froze. His blood ran cold, and he stared at the body lying frozen on the ground.

  It was a young man, blonde-haired and blue-eyed. Frost covered his body, and he was stiff, lying on his back with his arms lying haphazardly at his sides. He was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

  Roone swore under his breath.

  Things were about to get worse.

  Mel

  The whole point of going to Nova Scotia was to stay out of sight. Now a bevy of police cruisers sat in his driveway, and he and Michael were showing a group of officers the way down to the creek.

  “How long have you been living here?” A small brunette officer asked, introducing herself as Kara Hudson.

  “Only a few days,” Michael replied, as the group picked its way through the trees to the creek.

  He was cautious, choosing his words carefully. “We’re from Europe.”

  “I was wondering about that accent. English, maybe?”

  “My brother and I are from all around.”

  “Ah. Military?”

  Michael nodded stiffly, and Mel rolled his eyes. Michael could put on the charm just as well as he could, but he had to pick now to be awkward. It looked suspicious, and the last thing they needed was to look suspicious.

  But if Hudson was suspicious, she hid it well. Her face was blank, her mouth slanted, as she listened to their answers. Mel had an inkling that her face often looked like that.

  They finally arrived at the body, and some of the other officers began cordoning it off with yellow tape. Mel and Michael stood and watched as a forensics team picked their way in, sticking labels in the snow and taking notes.

  Hudson looked around. “This estate belongs to the two of you?”

  “To me,” Mel replied, unable to help himself, “I’m older.”

  Michael rolled his eyes.

  “Uh-huh. How long has it been in the family?”

  “Since ’67.”

  “Hmm,” she said, her eyes still scanning the trees. “Any problems since you moved in? Break-ins, tracks in the snow?”

  Mel and Michael shook their heads, and shared a dark look. The two of them had, very carefully, looked at the body before calling the police. It had been a young man, maybe early thirties, naked except for his underwear. He had strangulation marks on his throat. His body looked as if it had been dumped.

  No tracks in the snow--they had looked everywhere for that. Only Roone’s was there, and although Mel had half a mind to throw him to the wolves, he knew there was no way Roone could have done it. There was no reason.

  The creek was frozen solid, and the body had been found right at the edge. Michael and Mel had agreed that the killer had probably dragged the body across the ice, leaving no footprints behind. Smart. Very smart.

  Mel had looked down at the body and wondered where the man’s family was, if they were waiting for him, and his heart ached. Then he thought about the killer, and his insides boiled with anger.

  When the forensics team finished, Hudson and a couple others went in to look. They were there for a long time.

  “If he dragged the body across the creek, he probably came from Elle Road,” Michael murmured, folding his arms.

  Mel nodded, watching as Hudson bent over the body. “Wonder how long he’s been there.”

  “Could have been weeks. He probably dumped him here because he knew this place was unoccupied. No one would notice.”

  “Lucky we arrived,” Mel said dryly.

  Michael looked worried. “Hudson will check our records.”

  “Don’t worry about that. We’re Michael and Mel King, thirty-eight, born in Halifax to Joan and Jack King. We both work in the family jewelry business. This was our grandfather’s property. Deeds, birth certificates should be in their system. Gabriel’s too. All it takes is a quick search.”

  Michael looked intrigued. “When did you do all that?”

  “You know I have good lawyers. I have documents for all my properties.”

  He wasn’t satisfied. “You made us twins?”

  Mel shrugged. “I’m older by an hour.”

  Michael rolled his eyes again. “So it’s you and I, our partners, my son, his boyfriend, and….”

  And they looked at each other. What to say about Roone? He didn’t fit in with any of them. None of them wanted him.

  Mel looked over his shoulder at the house, half a mile away and partially hidden in the trees. Nora had told him about Roone’s hard upbringing--the abandonment, the bullying, the loneliness. All because of that awful Talent. Mel didn’t want to, but he couldn’t help but feel a small hint of empathy. After all, he knew what it was like to be shunned. He was--as Roone had taken pains to remind him--Melkira.

  But then he remembered what Roone had done to Nora, and his anger surged.

  Michael sensed it. “We have to protect him,” he said darkly. “Nora will be pissed if we let anything happen to him.”

  Mel felt mutinous, but he nodded. Nora was stressed enough. She wasn’t sleeping well, and she was crying during the day, lost in another cloud of depression. Her doctor had said to double up on her medication, but it was taking time, and still Roone haunted the house.

  Fucking leech.

  But Mel had an idea, and he returned to the house. Roone was pacing by the back door, and--seeming to forget their differences--looked at him worriedly as he approached.

  “Do they know who he is?”

  Mel tried to keep his anger under control. Every time he looked at Roone he thought of Nora appearing in the hotel room, having just escaped, wearing nothing but a T-shirt and underwear.

  “Of course not,” he growled, giving him a look.

  Roone looked angry too--but also confused, as if conflicted. Mel wondered if what he had said earlier had actually gotten into his head.

  That would be the highlight of the day.

  He took a deep breath. “You found the body. They’ll be asking questions. And you’re the odd man out in the group. You’re already suspicious.”

  Roone cocked his head. “Make me not suspicious, then.”

  Mel felt his head twitch, and he ground his teeth together. “How’s your Swedish?”

  “Rusty.”

  “Brush up on it, then. You’re Gilla’s brother now, and neither of you can speak English.”

  “Fine.”

  “One other thing,” Mel said, as an angry Roone turned to go, “something I forgot to mention earlier.”

  Roone just raised his eyebrows, and Mel seethed.

  “You’re not to go near Nora. You’re not to speak with her, sit with her, or even look at her. You’ve done enough to her. Understand?”

  Roone looked down at the snow. His jaw worked. He didn’t look angry anymore--he looked emotional. Maybe even remorseful.

  He nodded jerkily, and Mel noticed he was shaking. Now he really wondered if what he had said had, by some miracle, gotten through to Roone. If it had, Roone wasn’t taking it well.

  But he couldn’t help but be harsh again. “They’ll be questioning us soon. Pull yourself together before then.”

  Roone didn’t reply, just went into the house. Mel stood there, and felt an unwanted hint of guilt. He thought of what Nora had said, how evilly Roone had been treated as a child, and his guilt grew worse.

  It was a long time before Hudson and two of her colleagues came to the house to conduct interviews. Mel offered the study, and one by one they were interviewed, playing dumb, even though they didn’t know anything in the first place. Gilla and Roone, who were now not supposed to know any English, were helped by Mel.

  “So the seven of you are here….why?” Hudson asked, leaning back in her seat.

  She was the only one out of the three officers who hadn’t been scribbling in a notepad. She was
also the only one who had been asking shrewd questions.

  Mel had already thought of the answer to this. “My brother and I wanted to come home--put down roots again. His son’s learning the business, brought his boyfriend over from London. Gilla’s brother is partnering with us.”

  Hudson had been examining her boots when Mel mentioned Roone. She looked up at him, her eyes sharp. “You don’t like him.”

  Mel hesitated. Shit. He was so furious with Roone that it was obvious even when he lied about him.

  He tried to think quickly, but Hudson interrupted him. “This is an investigation into a homicide, Mr. King. You can lie, but we’ll find out the truth anyway.”

  She was calm, but firm, and Mel studied her, impressed. She couldn’t have been older than thirty, and was clearly dancing circles around her partners, who stared at him blankly.

  Mel decided to go with a half-truth. “He made a move on my partner,” he said, allowing some bitterness in his voice. “Made her uncomfortable.”

  Hudson looked intrigued. “And you’re allowing him to live with you after that?”

  Mel shrugged. He couldn’t think of a good answer.

  She frowned, studied her boots again.

  Mel didn’t like the look on her face. “We’ve only been here three days,” he reminded them firmly. “We were in London seventy-two hours ago.”

  “We have to cover our bases,” Hudson replied without looking up from her boots. “And it’ll take time for the forensics to come back. We won’t know how long he’s been there for a week at least. On top of the fact that we don’t have a timeline, since we don’t know who he is,” she continued, almost to herself.

  Her hazel eyes slid to the painting behind Mel’s head, and she bit her lip, clearly deep in thought. She murmured something, and Mel thought he heard the word “hitchhiker.”

  Hitchhiker. He frowned. This wasn’t the type of area for hitchhiking; it was too isolated. Unless someone was trying to get home from the next town over.

  He looked at her. “There are others, aren’t there?”

  She looked a little startled, the most emotional he had seen her since they met.