Page 46 of Gates of Tartarus

“If you’re closed, you’re closed, I guess.” His voice is completely detached again, and he drops a stack of cash on the table, bills falling to the floor. “I’d hate to interrupt anything important. I’ll come back when you’re less… preoccupied.” Snapping his fingers, he summons the rat-man, who scuttles immediately to Cooper’s side. “Bye, Terrance…” he calls pointedly, then knocks on the bar-top. “Bye, Flores.”

He and his sidekick leave as abruptly as they arrived, and Chantalle immediately spins around, seeking out Terry, then Flores, whose head has popped back up from behind the bar with wide, scared eyes.

“Kai…” Chantalle begins, without looking at me. “It’s time for you to go now.” She sighs deeply, eyes back on the door through which, moments before, Cooper exited. She doesn’t look upset or worried, more resigned, or even a bit sad. It’s mystifying – a strange contradiction to Flores and Terry.

Frowning, I look around the bar. Marco and Terry are tense, their shoulders tight, but there seems to be no immediate threat. There are things at play here that I don’t understand, and I don’t know if I can do anything, or even if I’m wanted.

“Chantalle…” I begin slowly, and she meets my unspoken question with a quick shake of her head, eyes darting to her friends. I nod in understanding. The answer is yes, but not yet, not here, not now. “We’ll get coffee soon.” I don’t ask, I promise, and she shoots me a quick smile before walking us to the back door, forcing her thoughtful face back into the visage of a helpless co-ed.

“Thanks for coming by, guys. Flores will wipe the traffic cams and security cams as soon as possible, so if you’re quick and careful, no one will know you were here.” She looks back at the other girl, but Flores has already disappeared back through the secret door, all traces of it hidden now behind bottles and opaque glasses.

None of my guys are happy with the confusing events of the last few minutes, but we’ve already overstayed our welcome. Jonah and Deo help me carefully to my feet and wait for me to stop wobbling before we walk forward, one on either side. Walker’s in front of us, weapon drawn and held loosely in his hand at his side. Smith is observing everything through careful eyes, giving one last look around the bar before he turns to me.

“Let’s go,” he says shortly, and very grumpily. “Thank you for your help tonight,” he adds, looking over at Chantalle, almost as an afterthought.

“Are theyallso angry all the time?” she says, voice thrilled for some reason, despite the roller coaster of emotions bouncing through the bar. “I love a good challenge. If they become a problem, send them down. I’ll help take the edge off.”

The guys all offer vague, mumbled thanks and goodbyes before walking out the door. Chantalle watches them leave through now laughing eyes, then shakes her head. “I’m very interested in seeing what happens there, Kai. Keep me updated, will you?”

She grins at my obvious confusion and pats my cheek. “You’re delightful. Get home and let me know you’re okay, will you? Just text Marco and he’ll pass it along. And Kai,” she says, “be more careful from now on, will you?”

Making a House a Home

Friday, 9 November – Kailani

The cab drops me off, and Lachlainn is at my door before I can say anything.

“Okay, first off, where’s your bike? Secondly, why are you limping? And thirdly, why didn’t you call me to pick you up?”

I shrug, making a small pained noise at the flex of my shoulder, and he frowns. “Did you wreck?” he asks seriously.

“Kind of?” I say hesitantly.

“Kai, I’m trying to be patient here, but I’m out of my mind with worry. It’s past midnight, you’re beat to hell, and you’re coming home in a cab. Can you please use your words?” he asks gently, trying to smile but clearly at his rope’s end.

“My brakes were cut, and I had to lay down my bike,” I say, grimacing, and he closes his eyes, letting out a deep breath. I tense up for any lectures, but I should know Lachy better by this point. He reaches out and gently touches my injured shoulder, thinking rapidly.

“Okay. Okay. Gemma’s out with Hook and won’t be home tonight. She’ll come back if you need her…” I shake my head, and it makes up something in his mind. “Right. Will you come stay in your room at my place for the night?” I can tell he wants to command me, to throw me over his shoulder and haul me up to his house, but is trying so very hard to respect my autonomy. Looking over my shoulder at the dark cabin, for the first time it looks cold and lonely, and the thought of being there by myself tonight…

“Um. Sure,” I reply, and happiness flashes across his face before he can stop it.

“Okay. Let’s get you up and settled in, then I can come back down and get whatever you need for the night.”

Sighing, I look up the hill towards his home and nod, before stepping forward, every muscle in my body screaming. Behind me, Lachy says, “Fuck it,” under his breath and sweeps me carefully off my feet, carrying me up through the forest with seemingly little effort.

“Lach!” I protest, laughing tiredly. “I can walk, you know.”

He growls down at me, doesn’t even say a word, just growls, and I rest my head tiredly against him. “Oh Lachybear,’ I mumble, “I’m okay.”

His only answer is to hold me tighter. I don’t know how he does it – I’m 5’8” for Pete’s sake, and even with training I have some curves, but he lifts me like I’m made of porcelain – easily and carefully. His arms are corded muscle against me, and he’s making a soft, almost humming sound. I close my eyes, letting the smoke and pine surround me, knowing I’m safe. He doesn’t pause at the front door – he left it open, I think, in his hurry to get down the hill to me. Come to think of it…

“Lach?”

“Hmmm?”

“How’d you know something happened?” I ask, confused.

“What?”

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