Lord of Legions

by T. R. Hamby

  “Fuck,” Mel said.

  “There’s nothing we can do about it now,” Nora said. “She’ll either be scared away, or she’ll come back for answers.”

  “She may think more than ever that we had something to do with the murders,” Michael said darkly, looking at Barry. “You should have thought of that.”

  Barry was stubborn. “She wasn’t here for the investigation. She was here for us. I gave her what she wanted.”

  “What she wanted--Barry, are you serious?” Mel exclaimed.

  Barry lifted his chin.

  Gabriel sighed, ran a hand through his hair.

  “And you should have remembered you don’t speak English,” Mel growled at Roone.

  He and Andreas backed away, struck by a wave of Mel’s rage.

  “Okay, okay,” Nora said loudly, holding up her hands. “Everyone calm down.”

  There was a pause. Mel turned away, clearly trying to control his anger. Gabriel noticed that Barry was still firm, unshaken, and figured he was now Immune to Mel’s Talent. Either that, or Them was here.

  Nora took a deep breath. “All right. What’s done is done. Was it the best move….”

  And she glanced at Barry. “I don’t know. We’ll only know with time. Let’s just….skip training for today. Go inside, relax. Okay?”

  Everyone nodded, and slowly they trudged back to the house.

  “I know what you’re going to say,” Barry sighed once they were back in their bedroom.

  Gabriel looked at him. Barry looked almost pained, and he lowered himself onto the bed.

  He sat beside him. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Mel’s pissed.”

  “Mel will get over it. What else were we supposed to do, anyway? Come up with a lie on the spot? Not even Mel could do that.”

  He thought for a moment, and then sighed. “Hopefully now she’ll stay away. Or if she doesn’t, we’ll tell her to. That she’ll be in danger if she doesn’t. Easy and over with.”

  “I don’t know,” Barry said quietly. “She’s very….stubborn. Once she’s got her hands on something, she won’t let go.”

  Gabriel smiled. “Sounds like someone I know.”

  Barry snorted, but his lips twitched. “I’m a punk, aren’t I?”

  “Only sometimes.”

  Barry lay back on the bed, his legs hanging off the edge, and Gabriel followed. They held hands, and were quiet for a while.

  Gabriel studied him. He was thoughtful, frowning at the ceiling. His eyes were so blue.

  He couldn’t help it. “Why don’t you like your birthday?”

  Barry’s face darkened. After a moment he said, “My dad left on my birthday. I was nine. ’Course, he was an old bastard anyway. Drank a lot. Hit my mum a couple times. Nasty piece of shit.”

  Gabriel stared at him, horrified. He knew there were humans like that, but to know one had been Barry’s father….

  “He didn’t do that to you, did he?” he asked.

  Barry shrugged, playing with Gabriel’s fingers. “Just once or twice. I can’t really remember.”

  He took a deep breath, unaware of Gabriel’s horror. “I was always a nuisance. I was always blocking the television, making too much noise. I had trouble reading, and he called me an idiot. Called my mum an idiot too. Like I said, he was a bastard.”

  He chuckled bitterly. “Probably the best birthday present in the world, seeing him walk out the door.”

  Gabriel had no idea what to say. It didn’t seem like he needed to say anything, though, because Barry kept talking, as if a dam had been broken.

  “I never measured up in his eyes,” he said quietly, still staring at the ceiling. “He told me I never would. Told me I’d be a failure just like him. And it was always like that, even after he left. I’d get close to something good, and then hit a sort of block. Couldn’t get past average marks, couldn’t play football. Then I realized I was gay, had to keep that quiet.”

  He paused, frowning. “It was a lot of things, and I met some people….and it was pills first, and then everything else just….happened.”

  He suddenly looked struck. “I was seventeen….shit….I was so young….”

  “Christ,” Gabriel breathed.

  Barry finally looked at him, and shrugged. “Now you know why I don’t talk about it.”

  “I’m sorry,” Gabriel sighed, turning to him and wrapping an arm around his waist. “I’m an idiot.”

  Barry rolled his eyes. “Don’t be stupid. I should’ve told you a long time ago.”

  He thought for a moment, tracing his fingers up Gabriel’s arm. “I hated him….but I also loved him, you know? I was desperate. And he just….left. Didn’t care.”

  “He was your father,” Gabriel replied gently. “He should have been there for you. My father….”

  He hesitated, realizing too late that he probably shouldn’t bring up his own father’s strengths in parenting.

  But Barry was patient. “Yeah. I know. I see him with you.”

  Gabriel felt a pang and sighed. “He’s worried about me. He never worries.”

  Barry gave him a look. “Come on. He’s always worried. He’s got all of us.”

  Gabriel’s heart ached, and he resolved to be more patient with Michael from now on.

  He brushed his fingers gingerly down Barry’s wound. “When this is over, let’s go somewhere. Someplace like this. Get a cabin. Go hiking. Grow shit in the backyard or whatever.”

  Barry looked intrigued. “What about everyone else?”

  “We can visit. Every day if you want. I’ll Travel us to them. They’ll probably get sick of us.”

  Barry smiled, and Gabriel could see him envisioning it. “Yeah. Maybe.”

  “Nice to think about, anyway. Our own little paradise.”

  Barry nodded vaguely. “This isn’t far from paradise, though. All of us together. Despite the shit going on.”

  Gabriel frowned, but nodded.

  They talked for a while after that, before getting under the covers for a nap. Gabriel held Barry, and thought about what he had said. He was right, in a way. It was fucked up what was happening--but they were all together. Today was a prime example of how much they all loved each other. Playing in the snow, singing at breakfast. They were practically the Brady Bunch.

  He wouldn’t trade it for a thing.

  Roone

  He had kept true to his word not to even look Nora’s way. So far. But it had been weeks now--it was almost December--and Roone was growing restless. For three whole years he hadn’t gone a day without watching Nora, and now that he was mere feet from her he couldn’t even look her way.

  It was torture, and his gaze began to wander.

  He would steal glances, when he was sure no one was looking. She was so beautiful, her eyes so soft, her smile so warm.

  Then, during training, he would full-on look at her. When Michael’s back was turned, he would watch her tussle with Gilla. She was so fierce. Her hair would be swept up in a curly bun, and the way she moved was so swift and strong.

  How wonderful she would have been with their child.

  There could still be a chance, he realized. Everyone was tired, on edge. Maybe she and Mel were having problems. Roone could bump into her in the laundry, say he lost something. Yes. They would talk, he would apologize….she would remember how it felt to be with him….

  Maybe she was pregnant after all. She hadn’t been lying. It had only been a few weeks since she had told him; she wouldn’t be showing yet.

  His heart soared, and he was nearly giddy with relief. Yes, once they talked--about each other, about the baby--she would come back to him.

  He would have to stop seeing Andreas. He felt a pang at the thought. The sex was good, very good, but it wasn’t what Roone craved when he saw him. He craved the attention, the affection, so desperately. He and Andreas would talk, just talk, all night long. Joke, laugh, tell wild stories. Both were so intrigued with each other’s lives.

  It woul
d be difficult to let go.

  But Roone had to. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make for Nora. Soon they would be together….they would go somewhere safe….maybe Rome….they would have their son there….

  He decided, about a week after the great reveal to Hudson, that he had to speak with her. He couldn’t actually do that--she was hardly ever alone--so he wrote a letter instead. An apology, a plea. He hoped it would be enough.

  He tucked it in the cupboard in the laundry. She would find it soon.

  He was restless the rest of the day, and had trouble focusing on his training, to Michael’s annoyance. Nora always did a bit of laundry sometime before bed. It was only a matter of time.

  But night fell, and nothing happened. Everyone went to bed. Neither the washer nor the dryer was running, and Roone deflated. She hadn’t found the note yet.

  He was getting ready to go to the stables when the bedroom door burst open. At first he thought it was an enraged Mel--finally come to kill him for contacting Nora again--but it was Andreas instead.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, shutting the door behind him with a snap.

  Roone stared at him, bewildered. “What?”

  “Don’t give me that shit.”

  “I’m serious.”

  Andreas rolled his eyes, and threw out his hand, which bore Roone’s letter. “I saw you sneak up to the laundry.”

  Roone felt his heart drop. Shit. “Oh.”

  “‘Oh?’ Christ, Roone. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

  “You don’t understand,” Roone said stubbornly. “You’ve never been in love before--”

  “She. Doesn’t. Love. You,” Andreas growled. “You have to remember that, Roone. She doesn’t love you. She loves Mel. They’re happy together.”

  “She’s not happy,” Roone insisted, though his heart was beginning to race. “She loves me. She’s having my child. She needs me--”

  Andreas suddenly looked horrified, and he knelt down and grasped Roone’s shoulders. “Roone. Listen to me. Nora is not pregnant. She’s not pregnant with your child; she’s not pregnant with Mel’s. There is no baby. It does not exist.”

  Roone stared at him. His insides had gone cold, very cold, and his hands were shaking. He didn’t like the scared look on Andreas’ face, didn’t like how tightly he was holding him.

  He knew Andreas wouldn’t lie to him.

  He tried to rally. “But she loves me….I know she does….”

  “You know she doesn’t, Roone,” Andreas said gently.

  Roone looked away, breathing shakily. He found there were tears in his eyes, and he brushed at them. All the while Andreas watched him carefully.

  Roone felt an enormous sense of grief. He had lost his sanity again, deluding himself into believing that Nora loved him, that she needed rescuing. That they were going to have a baby. All that hope, all that joy, crushed into a thousand fucking pieces.

  A sob escaped him, and Andreas held him tight.

  He didn’t really feel better after crying, although his grief was a little less intense. He lay down on the bed, exhausted, and Andreas lay beside him. For a while they were quiet.

  Then Andreas took his hand, squeezing. “I thought I lost you there,” he said quietly.

  Roone felt very drained, but Andreas’ hand warmed him a little. “It’ll keep happening.”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  He frowned, and looked at him. “What do you mean?”

  Andreas looked very serious. “You know what I mean. I won’t let it happen again. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

  Roone stared at him, confused.

  Andreas snorted. “What trouble are you having with what I’m saying?”

  Roone moaned, clapping a hand over his eyes. He hadn’t thought they would need to have this conversation.

  “Andreas….we’re mates,” he said firmly. “We’re not lovers. We’re not partners. You know that could never happen.”

  “I’m not asking to be your partner,” Andreas said. “I already told you I’m not romantic. I’m asking to be your friend.”

  There was a silence, while Roone tried to wrap his head around what Andreas had said. It was pathetic, but he had never received the offer before. He had had some friends….sort of. But this felt different.

  He looked at him. “Why? Why me?”

  Andreas took a deep breath, as if trying to stay patient. “I guess I like you. Why do you think I visit you every night?”

  “Sex.”

  Andreas murmured some Swedish. “It’s because you’re the only person I can talk to down here. Anywhere, actually,” he added dryly. “I don’t fit in with this group, as fond as we are of each other. I’ve lost my family and my friends.”

  His breath hitched. “You make the grief easier. Don’t ask me how.”

  Roone felt his heart ache. He knew how much Andreas missed his family. He could barely speak about them without weeping.

  What Andreas was offering was something Roone had never had before. He had always imagined sharing his grief and his sorrows with Nora. But that wasn’t possible--it would never be possible--and Andreas was here….and he was different.

  He decided not to make it dramatic. “All right.”

  Andreas looked at him, and Roone could tell he was relieved. “Good. Because I can’t have you getting hurt, now.”

  Roone sighed, turning his gaze to the ceiling. “That’s already happened.”

  Andreas squeezed his hand. “It’ll get better. You’ll see--you’ll meet some lovely Angel who will adore you, and the two of you will make Angel babies together. Simple.”

  Roone felt his lips twitch. He knew Andreas didn’t believe it would happen, but he appreciated the thought.

  But then another thought appeared, and he felt worried. “Should we tell the others?”

  Andreas shook his head, firm. “No. We’ll show them, act natural. No need for a big announcement.”

  “Mel will be pissed.”

  “If Mel really wants to say anything, he’ll have something coming,” Andreas said darkly. “I’d like to see him try and scold me.”

  Roone smiled, amused. He was feeling a little better now.

  “I’m staying here tonight,” Andreas added, getting under the covers. “Just in case.”

  “I think I’m okay now.”

  “Regardless.”

  Roone shrugged and nodded. He didn’t want to be alone anyway--and he suspected Andreas felt the same way.

  Morning came, and Roone was a nervous wreck. Andreas was as calm as could be, looking at himself in the mirror and messing with his hair. Roone could hear everyone in the kitchen, and had a deep urge to hide under the blankets. But Andreas gave him a look, and Roone reluctantly followed him out the door.

  There were some glances their way, before every single head whipped around. The kitchen fell deathly silent.

  Andreas was chipper. He dragged Roone to the food--Swedish breakfast today--and began to load up a plate. Roone copied him, shakily topping his bread with salmon. All the while, everyone stared, clearly flabbergasted at having just watched Roone and Andreas emerge together out of Roone’s bedroom.

  Andreas hummed, completely at ease, and hauled Roone to the last two chairs at the table. They sat down.

  For a moment everyone continued staring, before a knock at the door broke the silence.

  “I’ll get it,” Gilla said, still looking utterly bewildered.

  She left the kitchen, and everyone sat rigid in their seats. Only Andreas continued eating, though he was slowing, beginning to feel uncomfortable too.

  “Oh--hello, Detective,” Gilla’s voice said, and everyone sprang to their feet.

  Roone’s heart raced as the group flooded into the foyer. Kara Hudson stood by the door, looking very nervous. Her hazel eyes darted from face to face, and Roone knew she was poised to run.

  “How may we help you?” Gilla asked awkwardly, when no one else spoke.

&nb
sp; Hudson shuffled her feet. After a moment she replied, “I want to know. Everything.”

  There was a pause.

  Then Mel heaved a sigh. “Come in. Living room’s best. Do you want coffee?”

  And she was ushered in.

  Divulging all their secrets to Hudson lasted well past lunchtime. She sat in one of the recliners, clutching a cup of coffee and listening raptly.

  Everyone took up the sofas and remaining recliners. Nora, to her misfortune, sat opposite to Roone. He couldn’t help but sneak glances at her--his love--until Andreas elbowed him hard in the ribs.

  “So,” Hudson said for the tenth time, “again--there’s--there is a god, and he made the Immortal World, and here, and Heaven, and all of us, including Angels.”

  “Correct,” Mel said patiently.

  “But there’s now another god, who Created another Place, who’s been helping you, and who sent down this man?”

  And she indicated Andreas.

  “Right,” Nora said, and Roone used the opportunity to look at her.

  Hudson massaged her temples. “Okay. And then….there are Demons coming after you, because God’s mad that you’ve been working with this other god.”

  “Mel and everyone were trying to rescue me,” Nora said. “And Them was helping.”

  Hudson frowned, overwhelmed with information. “From what?”

  Nora went pink, and everyone was quiet, looking at each other darkly. Mel touched her knee and murmured to her.

  Roone felt his heart race, and before he could stop himself he said, “They were trying to save her from me. I kidnapped her.”

  Everyone immediately looked at him, startled.

  Hudson stared. “Excuse me?” she breathed.

  Roone felt sick, but he continued, “I was obsessed with her. In love with her. I thought she loved me too, thought we could be together. I knew she was with Mel, so I tried to rescue her. I thought he was hurting her--”

  “That’s enough,” Mel said firmly.

  Roone looked over at them. Nora was looking directly at him, and his heart leapt. But she looked pitying, and there were a couple tears sliding down her cheeks. She brushed at them, and Mel scowled at him.