Page 20 of Unruly
“Semantics.” I clap my hands together. “Let’s go find us a bad guy. I mean, a Horror.”
“I do admire your enthusiasm. I hope it remains once you see what we’re facing.”
“I’m not easily scared off.”
His gaze lingers for a moment. “Good to know.”
I hold in the excited laughter tickling my throat. I think he might be a little fun after all.
Chapter 5
Farnsworth
The walk to the university is pleasant, if slightly overstimulating. The architecture of the city reminds me of centuries past, but it’s mixed with the trappings of modern life around it. Borja navigates the crowded sidewalks with ease, walking confidently towards our destination, while my mind keeps replaying that awkward moment on the train when our bodies collided.
It’s a useless exercise to try and recall the time I engaged in the pleasures of the flesh. It’s best to avoid acknowledging the reality of my solitary existence. I could visit the Above for carnal pursuits, like my predecessor did, but I don’t see the point. I would have to return to my quiet, cold apartment, beginning the cycle of torment over and over again until it eventually drove me mad.
Though the modern world is much more accepting of men like me, it doesn’t change the truth: I don’t belong here. I haven’t for centuries.
To have Borja’s sensibilities and confidence is a fleeting dream to me. He marches through the world, unafraid and unapologetic about who he is, and while I’m quite comfortable at home, here in the Above, I feel like a fish out of water.
I do feel a bit silly now for having ignored all the presentations on modern amenities that the scouts have brought back over the years, preferring instead to stay firmly planted in my favorite musical decade, but perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to update my knowledge of things. Who knew phones were pocket devices now? Likely the scouts did, but I ignored it, assuming it had no relevance to my tasks. To be fair, it didn’t until now. It was certainly more efficient than traipsing all over Boston looking for someone though.
“Here we are.” Borja points to the mid-size brick building at the end of the street. “She teaches history. Let’s find the directory.”
Nodding, I follow him, noting his ease in figuring out next steps. I thought I would be leading him much more than I am, but Borja doesn’t hesitate and jumps right in.
Before we can find the directory, a crowd of people gathers in front of a smaller brick building to our left. Borja is already heading in that direction by the time I notice it, so I quickly follow him. We stop alongside two women who are gazing at the building with concerned expressions.
“What happened here?” Borja asks.
One woman turns to him. “Not sure yet, but I heard a professor was attacked.”
“In broad daylight,” the other woman says, clutching a book to her chest.
“Do you know who?” I ask.
Both women shake their heads. Borja glances at me, his brow furrowed, and I nod, understanding his unspoken question. I hope it’s not W. Carole, but that would be a hell of a coincidence.
The double doors to the building open and a man steps out with two first responders. The man in the suit raises his hand to get the attention of the small crowd.
“Everything is fine, students,” the man says. “Professor Carole is a bit shaken but unharmed. Her classes are canceled for the day, and she’ll communicate further if there are additional updates.”
The students disperse, murmuring among themselves, but Borja and I stay planted. We obviously need to speak to Professor Carole. Once we’re able to get past everyone, we quietly slip into the building.
I’m immediately hit with a wave of dark energy, but it’s not the Horror. Borja stalls next to me, reaching out to grip my wrist, his breath catching in his chest. I follow his gaze to a hallway filled with benign spirits who, upon seeing me, flit off in all directions, disappearing into the walls.
“Does that get easier over time? Seeing ghosts and stuff?”
“Yes.”
He nods, still holding on to me until I step forward slowly. “I imagine the professor is down this hall.”
“Right.” He releases me and exhales slowly. “It feels weird in here, right?”
“Yes. Something lingers, but it’s not the benign spirits and it’s not the Horror. Something else.”
“You don’t know?”
