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Souls of the Night – Vol 3

37.

With deadly precision, the point of Ares' arrow pierced directly through the shaft of his previous shot, violently splintering the arrow that already pierced the 'heart' of the target. Just like in that movie they had seen last week. Brave? Yes - red-haired girl, good archer, suddenly her mother was a bear. Not that he could have concentrated on the movie next to his increasingly weakening mate. Mother a bear? Ares would love to have these problems and he grumbled in frustration when his next arrow didn't quite hit the center of the skull of the black silhouette on the target. Why Lady Fox - his mother-in-law - had practice targets shaped like people had seemed strange to Ares, but now he appreciated it. When he squinted his eyes and the artificial darkness and the wind that made him blink did the rest, it was easy to imagine these figures were Nathaniel Sharif.

The next shot went straight into its/his skull.

Ignoring the person who came and stood next to him, Ares pulled another arrow from his quiver, positioned himself, took aim and hit just below the better headshot.

He puffed- half-satisfied and audibly belligerent.

"Talk to me, Love," Flora begged, her soft voice trying to be a balm for his irritated state of mind. But he refused to be placated. He WANTED to stay angry. If he went back to their mate soon, he would be tender and understanding and cuddly but now he had to be allowed to be angry.

He huffed his I've-recognized-you-but-can't-right-now huff, pulled out a new arrow, put it in the bowstring and took aim. But the thin wood of the arrow shaft suddenly grew and delicate soft sprouts of a mountain spruce wrapped themselves around his wrist, making it impossible for him to release the arrow. He wrinkled his nose because the aromatic pine needles tickled his skin.

"You were obnoxious to Tachi at your fitting tonight, just because she wanted to pay a sick visit to Alex, and you glared at Nathaniel with a snarl at dinner the night before. Talk to me - or to Alex - or to that psychologist doctor pretending to be human," Flora insisted, and when Ares whirled around and opened his mouth, the spell that Puck had woven so that no one could overhear them automatically kicked in. Alex had christened the spell "Bubble Talk-charm" as a child and it was weak enough to weaken further neither Puck nor Alex in the current situation. Thanks to the spell, Ares could shout all he wanted and only Flora could hear him because that's what he wanted.

"You want me to speak! Fine Flora!" He threw the bow on the ground and gestured towards the great hall with the mountain spruce sprout fused to him, but he actually meant the whole castle or, more precisely, its inhabitants. "I hate this plan! I hate the whole situation! You and me! We should be protecting Alexander and standing by him but instead we're playing games and pretending that everything is wonderful. That Alex and Owen are just rocked by a cold. A cold? They're fey damn it! They're wasting away! It's sapping their magic and they're letting it. And it's all the fault of Lexington's "non-mate" and I can't - I can't do it. And I'm sorry about the rookling, but she's by far the smartest one here, apart from the Xanatos`, and she got suspicious on the first night."

"Aren't we both Xanatos` too now?" said Flora, smirking smugly.

Ares bowed his head, refusing to quirk even one corner of his mouth. "I'm not a strategist, not a gambler like Alex. I'm about to explode and I want - and Alex forbids me - to help him. Please Flora. Please - I don't know how-."

Ares averted his gaze, which had been glowing before but had become desperate during the tirade, and turned away from her. Flora came to him and leaned against his quivering back. Letting her gargoyle wing imitations grow, wrapping them around her co-mate.

"We have to trust Alexander. Don't you trust him?"

"I-I-I love him so much. But even the strongest and smartest people can get carried away. Please Flora - I can't watch Alexander waste away like this - and neither can you."

"What are you really asking here?"

Ares placed his hand, which was not tied to a stick, on both of hers, which she had passed to the left and right of his waist and interlocked over his stomach.

"Please Flora. Let me kill Nathaniel. I'll make it quick and painless - you know I can do it."

"I don't doubt your competence in performing it. I doubt you really want to do this. Alex would be disappointed in you. Lexington - our new Clan - would seek vengeance. Everyone would know it was the archer."

"I don't care about their rancor or eventual death when it comes to love," Ares whispered in a choked voice, blinking more intensely now not because of the wind.

"And you think Alex doesn't feel the same way? What he wants to do for Lexington is love. But it's not just about him or us. Alexander and Puck are doing their best to protect this world, this city, the clan and us."

"A quick arrow would be a better better way to-"

"-grief makes you speak and think cruelly. But by letting your fear, frustration and anger leak out, you give up the fight before it begins. That's not who you are. You're a warrior - Alexander's best bow in the quiver." She chuckled and Ares laughed too, albeit a little reluctantly.

"They can't keep it at bay forever. It's getting stronger, sucking at their power, and the Other is gnawing at Sharif's mind, drilling from this side."

"They're looking for suitable vessels before Nathaniel reclaims his magic and the energy surge rouses the others. And it'll be easier than last time, because now that we've separated the two we don't necessarily need the new or different Keys to Power. They can find something else, the possibilities are wider. This is the only way. Please Ares. Please be less Alexander's sword and shield and more his Prickly. Stay away from the others if you can't pretend to not begrudge them their blissful ignorance but come with me. To him."

Ares turned, still in the cocoon of earth and resin-scented wings, and tilted his head to rub his brow arch against Flora's forehead. He breathed so deeply that his breath stirred her cobwebbed "hair" then he nodded. Flora smiled, and that smile was grateful ... and tired. Exhausted. Drained. For though Flora had now attached herself to Manhattan's energy signature, Ares knew she was pouring what she could spare into their laboring mate with every touch and sip of her willow bark teas.

Ares let her free his hand and lead him into the castle where he knew he would find Alexander in his bed, buried under magical scrolls and ancient tomes from which he tried to read out a solution, though by now he was so enfeebled that he and Puck/Owen had to swap guarding roles every two hours. Alex drained himself. And Flora did the same, even if she didn't admit it. He couldn't lose either of them. Not for Lexington and his "not-quite-human, never-quite-human" non-mate (because without an official commitment ceremony like the one Alex, Flora and Ares got through Gabriel, they weren't exactly mates in the Gargoyle sense of the word). Alexander's clan? Which should also become his - how could that be possible if the people who were most important to him withered in the course of these events? He dared not think of "death", but even that was not impossible, even if Flora's blind faith in their prince and Alexander's overpowering belief in himself and his strength didn't permit that kind of thought. Ares wished he had magic to help. But ... he had something else, didn't he? If he couldn't rid the world of Nathaniel Sharif, then he would have to find ways to get Nathaniel to reclaim that piece of himself. Even if he had to play dirty to achieve that.

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I didn't even look up when the overhead lights of my office unlocked with a soft click. There were very few people who had the security code, even fewer who preferred that kind of access versus the door, and even fewer who gave a shit that I worked "nerd boss stuff" and didn't like to be disturbed from my work. Even before I smelled Tachi and Heather, I knew it was them. From the subtle scrape of their smaller claws on the thin steel ladder that led to the ceiling, which they both crawled down headfirst.

"Shouldn't you be patrolling?" I asked absently, tapping a button on my laptop to make the live feed of Nathaniel at his desk disappear and bring up the computer code for the new AI on the latest generation of prosthetic hands that would be on the market next year. That is, if we eradicate the last bugs and glitches that kept showing up in the program. The team was good. But it was even better when I helped. We had been working on it for weeks. Maybe the development team and I would be further along if I wouldn't keep watching Nate, but I didn't really care. It was the first day Nate had come back to work after his fight.

"We're patrolling," Heather said, hopping on all fours through my office where Tachi strolled casually over to me as if she wasn't collecting data in Xanatos' creeper fashion. About Nate, about me, about everything around and about. Ever since Nathaniel had become human again, she'd been acting a little uncanny, and the standard in the clan for uncanny when it came to Tachi was very high indeed. Yesterday she'd even clashed with Ares because she'd tried to spy on him, Flora and Alex but the archer had also been hyper-alert, strangely tense and above all protective of Alex since Nathaniel had become human.

Of course, I liked that Alex had found mates to watch over him (especially now that he was rarely seen, as he was battling a flu that affected even Owen's work performance, proving once again how lifelike Fey's human avatars could be, catching even human viruses.) But the way Ares sometimes glared at Nathaniel across the kitchen table or from across the yard - I didn't like that at all. As if it was Nate's fault that Alex was miserable. Or was Ares just a grumpy bitch in general? Then we'd almost have a second Nash in the clan and that would be a bit much. I could only hope the behavior of the orange clan addition would improve, otherwise I would have to discuss it with Brooklyn.

"Do you have any sweets?" Heather asked, placing her small clawed hand on one of the doors of the smartly lit wall unit, the upper showcases of which housed numerous framed newspaper articles and prizes for scientific achievements. Just what the interior designers had recommended back then. I grinned and waved a hand patronizingly.

"Help yourself," I said and Heather opened the very cupboard where she knew my I-don't-have-time-to-eat-I'm-shaping-the-future energy bars were stored.

Thanks to Heather's distraction, Tachi had been able to press the very button on my laptop that made Nathaniel's surveillance image pop up again.

"Hey," I said, waving away her invasive fingers, at which she just smirked.

She leaned over me and looked past me at the monitor screen, where Nathaniel had just stood up after a few minutes of staring at his screen with his hands hovering over the keyboard. Sometimes he was so distracted - and now he was back to normal. But that was just the echoes and I wished he would talk to me more about how he was feeling. I sensed that he longed for me. And I longed for him. We spent time together but I never had the feeling that he talked to me about what was really important. But as already mentioned ... I didn't want to force myself on him in any way. Not physically or in any other way.

"I see you're pursuing your favorite hobby," Tachi commented, and I leaned back in my absurdly large and absurdly comfortable executive chair.

"What do you want to hear, Tachi? I just check on him every few hours. Only via the surveillance cameras. I'm allowed to do that. This is a public workplace and everyone knows where the cameras are. "

Besides, we were both a little edgy today because it was Nate's first day back at work. He hadn't wanted to show me his bruises from the phenomenally spectacular altercation with the "ex-instructors", but the awkwardness and the disapproval he had feared when he came back to work had been completely non-existent.

And I hadn't even had to subtly threaten his colleagues or his boss. No, I had rewound the footage and the head of department had come and spoken to him as soon as my friend had sneaked in that afternoon with his head down. That he was sorry about the incident, that he was glad Nathaniel was back and that he didn't have to worry about having to catch up on his work AND that he shouldn't be afraid to fill out a complaint about the assault and shouldn't forget to submit every doctor's and external physiotherapy bill to him personally.

And two or three of his older colleagues had also been buzzing around him for the first hour like she-wolves taking care of their ruffled cub and I wasn't even jealous when they practically fed him homemade cookies and cakes and brought him tea because Nate needed the feeling of belonging and comforting that didn't come from me. And because maybe I was imagining it, but he had gotten a little thinner again, so the aunts in accounting should stuff him a little. I could only hope his Team 34 responded just as well to his return, but I was probably less worried than he was because right now in the CCTV footage Nate was sliding his hand into the collar of his button down shirt and rubbing his shoulder like it was tense from brooding. Or like he was in pain. I'd noticed this at his house and at the castle. He'd been doing it a lot for a few days. But he didn't say anything about that either and he didn't seem restricted in his movement patterns.

Then my friend moved out of the picture after shutting down his computer.

"Where's he going?" Heather asked next to me, smacking her lips and crumpling all over my keyboard (she had inherited her father's table manners from his younger years and refined them in their grossness).

I closed her mouth with a claw.

"He's on his lunch break. He's going to his team ... I hope. He's worried about how they'll react because he was so uninhibited in front of the whole evening staff of House B. You know how he is."

"He might even hide in one of the toilets with his food tray like in one of those crappy high school movies," Tachi offered seriously.

"Man, I wish I could support him," I whispered, cupping my chin in my hands. My legs vibrated nervously under the table and of course the kids didn't miss it.

"Why don't you go and eat something there too? Like the humans and Uncle Nate. Then you can eat together," Heather said smartly, shoving the remaining chocolate bars into the pockets of her child-sized Kevlar vest. Probably more to secure her booty than to make sure I didn't have another choice.

"Heather's right. What's stopping you from going to the cafeteria in your own company again?" said Tachi.

"I don't want Nathaniel to feel like I'm babying and patronizing him," I muttered, changing the feed to the cafeteria cameras.

I could practically hear Tachi rolling her eyes.

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I took another deep breath before walking into the cafeteria. And - yep, everyone was gawking at me. I tried to keep my back and head straight, nodding and smiling uncertainly at two or three people I knew from more than just walking past, but with every step I took I lost what little hunger I'd had. I would have liked to turn on my heel. Or I wanted to come back in two hours when the cafeteria closed and get a sandwich from one of the vending machines. But I hadn't been able to ignore the messages from the others yesterday and hadn't wanted to because I missed all four of them, even Lavonne, and had replied that I would be back today, which they had all expressed relief about in their replies.

Which didn't mean that it wouldn't be incredibly awkward to see them again now. After I had beaten up two much stronger people and even a woman. The fact that they had started it and just wouldn't leave me alone only played a minor role in my mind. How could the others not see me as a thug or worse a snarling and growling psycho? Being nice over chats and messages was easy. Sitting across from someone like me was much harder and I feared scaring off the friends I'd only just managed to make again because of these echoes or a budding schizophrenia or whatever. Scaring them all away.

Alone the way the two cafeteria ladies behind the counter looked at me when I got my food and swiped my employee card through the card reader, which covered every meal and three snacks per shift. And they whispered to each other! About me! I was almost dizzy with distress and discomfort as I walked across the large room to the table where we usually sat and I felt like a pin cushion as two dozen eyes were stabbing me again, following my every move. Although the paranoid streak in me (which had only grown a little more due to my temporary gargoyle-ness) didn't like it at all, I sat down with my back to the room and my observers. The stares hurt physically, but I knew that (just like the feeling of my non-existent twitching wing muscles that wanted to wrap themselves protectively around me) I was only imagining things. It would be better if no one saw the pained expression on my face.

I stared at my food and didn't even know how to bring the fork to my mouth. I wished Lexington was here. Even if I wasn't feeling well, he would babble something about technology or a movie or something and that would automatically make me feel more at ease. Or he would wrap his tail around my ankle protectively and comfortingly. I missed his tail. In more ways than one. Almost as much as I missed my own tail. But it was my own fault. I had said it would be better if we didn't have much contact in the company because people with a better attentiveness would realize that we weren't just "old friends from a college course". Sometimes we played the proverbial ball back and forth too well in conversations, or we smirked or teased each other subliminally too often, or other little things betrayed us verbally or non-verbally.

Anyone who could put two and two together would soon realize that something was going on. None of us were harboring any illusions. And Lexington hadn't reproached me or even accused me of wanting to keep my relationship with him a secret because I was ashamed of my sexuality or, worse, of him being a gargoyle. I wasn't ashamed ... not ... really. Not intensely - if someone didn't confront me with rejection or reproach about it, I could even imagine admitting that I loved him and that we were in a relationship (even if it was currently less physical than we both probably preferred). No, Lex, didn't blame me and he gave me as much space as I needed even though I knew it was hard for him. But at the moment ... I would have given my right foot to have Lexington sitting next to me, even if the gossip mongers in the entire company would be running their mouths about something other than my fight.

I winced as someone approached me and lifted my glassy eyes only to see three women from PR standing next to my table, including the blonde from the mandatory event who Lavonne had called a "G.O.A.T.* cunt" and Oh Allah, this one was the pack leader and she smiled kind of hungrily as she expressed her delight that I was back and that everyone had been worried but that my performance in the "fight" had been really impressive and could they take pictures of me because everyone in the company chat (there was a general company social network) had been all worried about such an assault on an employee here and they from PR would have to personally calm the masses and - Lavonne booty-kicked her aside with her juicy hips in the black jeans almost artistically skillful. Then she built up between me and the women like an older sister, who would protect her little brother from the bullies.

"Okay, vulture girls, enough with the drooling over him. Nathaniel clearly just wants to eat in peace with his beloved team 34 - that's us by the way. And the three of you can scram now and a written comment WITHOUT photos will have to suffice to satisfy everyone. So hurry up, off to the PR basket, Shoo shoo" she said regally and was as fabulous and determined as I could never be. And there came Alistair and Anthony, and Chad too, with his and presumably Lavonne's tray, which she had pressed into his hand because she had had to rush to my rescue. And the blonde glared enormous imaginary butcher knives in Lavonne's face and opened her mouth to counter her rather cheeky words, but then Lavonne raised a sharp fingernail and asked:

"Is that a Parasteatoda tepidariorum?"

"A what?" the pack leader squealed, her eyes already wide.

"A common American house spider - in your hair," Lavonne said coolly, whereupon all three women immediately began to fidget and the blonde ran her fingers through her hair with shrill sounds of horror while performing a veritable dance of disgust until a small brown spider fell and scurried away. After that, all three of them were so shaken and disheveled that they forgot about the quarrel that had almost broken out and left under the gaze of the other employees eating here.

"Photos for the company social network - sure Michelle, you desperate mid* bitch. Nate is not making it on your body count* list. Making an art out of poaching on my turf, unbelievable," Lavonne grumbled and turned to me. And she smiled down at me and I smiled up at her and I was so grateful that I almost hugged her but she would have just taken that as an invitation to be even more diligent in her efforts to have a relationship with me and for the first time I was not only uncomfortable but I realized that it wasn't fair to her at all that I didn't speak plainly to her because I realized for the first time that she was a fantastic woman who deserved love and romance. Our eye contact broke because after they put their trays down, first Ali hugged me, then Ant, and Chad patted me on the back and brotherly congratulated me on not breaking any bones in the fight I'd been in. Everyone sat down and I was no longer alone and I didn't even mind Lavonne's kiss on my cheek.

G.O.A.T. = Greatest Of All Times.

mid = used to describe something or someone as below average or low quality

body count = A euphemism for how many people one has had sex with. Derived from the formal definition of the word, that is, how many people one's killed.

Thanks for reading, Q.T.