Page 46 of He Who Sleeps

“So? We good for our meet up next week?” Petra asked.

“Damn right.” Carlee nodded again. “I’ma need someone to celebrate with.”

“Celebrations all over then. I’ll see you guys.”

“Love you!” they all said at once before she closed the video call and smiled to herself. Her friends...gods, she missed them. But she had a decent amount to do, considering she went back to work tomorrow.

A knock at the door had her arching a brow. She wasn’t expecting anyone, but maybe it was one of her seven. She had slept straight through the previous day, only waking up to pee, and had found lasagna and a salad waiting for her in her kitchen, but she hadn’t seen them since.

When she opened the door, it was to find Carter standing there with a take-out bag from her favorite Chinese restaurant and a big grin on his face. "Hey, you," he said, leaning in to kiss her. "I was out this way with work and thought I'd stop by and see if you wanted to share dinner. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

She pulled him closer and kissed him again, a grin on her face when she pulled away. “Nope,” she said, pulling him into the apartment. “I just got off my call with my friends; you have good timing.” She squeezed his hand. “Missed you.”

"Missed you, too," he replied, although he looked confused when he said it, as though the realization surprised him. "I meant to swing by earlier, but you know how it is with animals and Halloween." She really did. Every year dozens of pets were scared out of their minds by costumes and constantly ringing doorbells and the occasional firework and ended up running scared.

She nodded. “Gotta be the hero I adore. Come...” They walked into her small kitchenette and she grabbed glasses. “What can I get you to drink?”

"Just a soda, if you have one, please." He took a seat in front of the breakfast bar and it looked like it had been built for him. He was natural here in her space. He belonged.

She handed him a cola and skirted around the table and wrapped herself around him. “So, what did you bring?”

"A mix," he said. "Some beef and broccoli, shrimp with vegetables, crab Rangoon and some vegetable fried rice. I heard that was your favorite order from this restaurant." His eyes twinkled with amusement. Creepy fucker.

“Oh, yeah?” She giggled. “Bet you guys all know what I like to eat from where I order from. Can you use chopsticks?” she asked as she pulled them out of the bag. “Wanna eat at the couch?” The idea of sitting and being comfy while they ate, and hopefully talked, felt more like a date.

"Of course I can use chopsticks." His tone said he could master anything that came to hand, including her, and it made her shiver. "Lead the way."

They set up on the couch, the food on the coffee table, and she settled in next to him as she grabbed a carton of the shrimp and vegetables. “I’m glad you came by.”

"Me, too." He settled in comfortably with a carton of crab Rangoon. "When we actually talked about what happened with you at the mansion, I realized the others got to spend a lot more time with you as themselves than I did. It's nice to finally rectify that."

She nodded. “Who dropped by yesterday? I was passed out; you guys did me in.” She blushed. “And whoever did come by obviously has keys...though I doubt any of you don’t have ways into this apartment. I know I should be freaked out about that, but I’m not.”

"It was Easton," he replied, surprising her. "He looked in on you and said you were dead to the world. He actually waited to check you were still breathing."

Her Snake. “That was nice of him,” she said softly. “So, what happens now? For you guys, I mean. It’s all done for the year, right?”

"No, there's still a big gathering at the winter solstice in a few weeks. We all have to go to Europe." He didn't look enthused by the fact. "And this year...well, it's going to be different." He chewed silently for a few moments and then sighed. "It's hard to explain any of this stuff without you knowing anything about The Order, but we're in a difficult position right now. We've generated significantly more energy than any other group and the Elders are going to be pissed about it because, for some reason, they'd prefer we killed for the God instead."

“I can see that,” she said softly. “Killing is easy to control. “What we did...do...isn’t. Dead lips don’t speak. Well-fucked ones can still talk.”

"It's actually the opposite," he told her. "Killing and getting away with it is hard. Forensics are getting really good these days and CCTV is fucking everywhere. What we do with you is much easier in comparison. I agree that it's about control, but not that aspect of it. It's about controlling us. If they come for one of us, of course we'd fight it, but if they came for you, we'd burn the world to the ground and spit on the ashes."

She smiled at him. “I meant that killing is something you can or could do without emotion, but sex, indulging, is more unpredictable to the person. It’s something I have been looking at. Before you guys, the idea of killing was abhorrent, until I broke it down. I mean some people deserve to die and all, for the things they do to others, and animal, but I can see why your Elders would rather the killing. It’s not the act of it that’s easy; I mean, you guys were raised to kill, right?”

"Yes, but if you think it's an act that lacks emotion, you don't know us at all," he laughed. "Raising a person to kill means tapping into the deepest, darkest, most perverted parts of them. Killing is a thrill. For some of us it's sexual. For others it's intimate. If I thought keeping you meant I'd never kill again, I'd actually think twice about it. But I know you wouldn't stop me killing rapists or drug cartel assholes, so I can still get my kicks and make sacrifices to the God."

“No, I wouldn’t,” she agreed. “It is distressing, though, knowing they would rather take the deaths over you guys getting your rocks off.” She grinned. “I mean, are they just not supportive of women in general?”

"I really don't know the answer to that." He shrugged. "I don't truly know what motivates them because, on the face of it, denying the Dark God energy is completely counterintuitive. But we believe that our fathers were all killed when they started asking questions about it, so this attitude has been in place and in power for a long time."

She looked at him. “Your dads? Oh, Carter. I’m sorry. Did you know him well? Your dad, I mean?”

"As much as a kid can know his father." He shrugged again, but didn't show any signs of clamming up, which meant the world to her. "He was sacrificed when I was nine, so I never really got to know him as a man."

“Oh, Carter...” She leaned in and wrapped her arms around him. “And your mom?”

"I don't really remember her," he admitted. "She disappeared much earlier on. It's only with hindsight that I'm wondering now if the Elders got rid of her, too."

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