“Stop thinking, or what passes for your version of thinking, and go to sleep. Second gates aren’t supposed to kill you, but you tried too hard and Rafferty’s work is too effective. I can’t get your blood pressure down yet. So for the love of Buddha, sleep…please.”
He didn’t say “please,” my brother, not often. He was polite and honorable—when he wasn’t forced to kill you, given—but somehow he avoided the word as if your behavior should be equally polite and therefore no “please”s required.
When he did say it…I obeyed. I was about to close my eyes when he whipped his head around and soundlessly put a hand on the unsheathed katana on the low dresser behind him. He was listening. I didn’t hear anything except dripping IVs, the low beep of a blood-pressure machine, and a narcotic ringing in my ears, but if Niko heard something, it was there.
I started to sit up, but realized before I did that that was the worst thing I could do. Monster slayer? I couldn’t slay a hamster right now. The only thing I would do was get in Niko’s way. He stood, not frozen, but waiting. What he waited for stepped into view out of the darkness of the hall. The only light on in the place was in this room, and it was a low light in deference to my concussion at that. It didn’t matter. I recognized him all the same.
Kalakos.
He had outrun the boggles. Damn that streak of humanity in me. At the moment I didn’t regret anything more than not dropping him directly into their pit. Mama Boggle would’ve solved this problem for us with one bite of her jaws. Niko’s father scanned the bedroom. He didn’t seem surprised by what he saw. “You heard me pick the lock,” he said to Niko. “I suspected you kept it slightly rusty for a reason. You are like me. No matter what we do, you and I, we will always have our reasons.”
I saw Robin in the murk behind him. Kalakos didn’t hear him. As long as he had lived or guessed he’d lived, no one would hear Goodfellow if he didn’t want to be heard. He had a sword as well, not a katana, more crusader style, but lighter-weight. It was lined up directly at Kalakos’s back as the puck took several silent steps closer.
Niko pointed his katana. “Leave,” he ordered flatly. “Now.” I was vulnerable, embarrassing as that was, and around an unknown variable. He didn’t like it.
He didn’t like it to the point of being on the verge of burying steel in flesh without a thought.
But that bastard didn’t see that as I did. Kalakos’s eyes showed no fear, but they did show resignation. “I told you that the burden is one all Vayash are responsible for recovering.”
“We have nothing to do with your burden or the Vayash.” Kalakos didn’t know Nik, had never bothered to know him, but I knew him. I knew that while he rarely lost control, when he did…it was one goddamn thing to see. And he was standing on the edge. Teetering.
The black eyes focused on me, on the bandages, the medical equipment, the dried blood that still covered Nik’s scrubs.
Just…about…now.
“I think it seems that you do.”
That was that.
“
The point of Goodfellow’s sword came to rest against flesh. I could see that in the tightening of the skin around Kalakos’s mouth. Sandwiched between two blades, he kept his hands carefully away from his body. It was a smart move.
“I told you that it smells Vayash like a wolf smells a sheep. You chose not to listen. And I did not bring it. It came of its own—”
Niko didn’t listen to the rest. His hand wrapped around the grip of the katana slammed into his father’s face with brutal force, knocking him down and out. While Kalakos lay unconscious on the floor, Niko spit on him. I didn’t think I’d seen Niko do something more unlike himself or had seen him as furious, but then, as Kalakos had said, he and my brother always had their reasons. This was history repeating itself. “This is what the Vayash gave us when we came to you,” Niko said coldly. “And this is what you get in return, you bastard. You and your burden.”
Kalakos’s getting his ass kicked in a truly righteous way for a truly righteous reason made me feel better than all the narcotics in the room. Niko had buried this for his entire life, and it was time that he had a chance to get it out and deal with it. To “emote.” It was a fancy word for a beat-down, “emote,” but that only made me enjoy it more. I had only one regret.
“Goodfellow, kick him in the ribs for me, would you?” I said. The words were barely understandable. I was going down as fast as Kalakos had, but barely was good enough. As my eyes closed, I heard the meaty thud of Robin’s shoe against flesh. It was a good sound to take me into sleep. I probably gave a smile as I went.
One dark and satisfied smile.
“Niko, there is a man in your garbage Dumpster outside. I can see his legs showing from beneath the lid.” There was silence, but the scent of heather. I pictured Promise brushing a kiss across my brother’s lips. “It is not quite what I would call being inconspicuous.”
“In this situation I do not much care about being conspicuous or not.” There was the sound of the blood- pressure cuff inflating and the tightened pressure on my arms. After several seconds, Niko exhaled. “Finally. Normal.” That was good news. My brain wasn’t going to explode. I didn’t use it much, but it was nice to know. “As for that worthless garbage masquerading as a human being, if the police show up, I’m quite certain he’ll wake up and talk his way out of his mess, because it’s not and never will be our mess.”
Huh. All that emoting and ass kicking hadn’t seemed to bring Nik much closure. I knew about closure, only I tended to laugh a little maniacally when I heard the word. No one knew better than I did that closure was a fairy tale, and expecting Niko to embrace it in a single day wasn’t doing him much service.
I opened my eyes to see Promise with her arms wrapped around Niko as he sat in the chair beside the bed. She was resting her pale cheek—like me, vamps weren’t much for tans—against his. Her hair was all brown again, the wide blond stripes gone. I coughed and said hoarsely, “No more…tiger? I liked the tiger look.”
“It was very high-maintenance. Much like you, Cal.” She reached over Niko’s shoulder to stroke a gentle hand down my blanket-covered leg. “What have you done to yourself now?” There was nothing but sympathy in her voice, but Niko’s face tensed all the same.
“He didn’t do anything to himself.” He stood up and walked away from the circle of her arms. Standing at the foot of my bed now, he tugged the blanket down a few inches to cover my bare feet. I was a restless sleeper, drugged or not. As for sleep in general, the effects of the lack of it that lined his face were more apparent as he let go of the cloth and folded his arms, brooding. He didn’t look at her or me, only inside himself. He’d changed from scrubs into a black shirt and black jeans. “My…The man who fathered me is responsible for this. Cal almost…” He shut his mouth tightly before relaxing slightly. “Kalakos did this. He is the one in the Dumpster and he is exceedingly lucky that he will eventually wake up. I gave several hours’ consideration last night to whether I would allow that to happen or not.” Nik must have changed his mind about Kalakos’s bringing the Janus automaton here intentionally as opposed to following it or there would’ve been no consideration and no waking up for his father again.
I cared less about intentions and more about the results, especially when they happened to Niko or me. I would’ve had no problem killing the worthless bastard if Niko wanted to drag his unconscious body back inside, and I wouldn’t need to consider it for hours or even seconds. All I’d need was someone to fetch me one of my guns. But this wasn’t about me or the fact that I’d almost been butchered like a pig at the slaughterhouse. Oddly, my human and Auphe sides both agreed on this issue. The first thought was that Niko needed to take care of this himself to come to terms with an abandoned, fatherless life. The second…
What could I say? They were both right.
But Kalakos would wake up again, and if Niko decided he’d made a bad call, yet hesitated—very doubtful, but if he did—I had a feeling my opinion of what I would do would change, but the agreement within me wouldn’t. After all, brothers helped each other out. Besides, worthless and boring or not, it beat TV.
TV…Nik should get a TV in his room instead of all those boring books.
TV would be good now.
