It made so much more sense now, how the other employees described Romira as the actual beast that guarded the Lorica’s gates. It never ceased to amaze me how there was always so much more to learn about the arcane underground, how the acquisition of magical might didn’t simply begin and end with natural talent, or education. I mean, Romira, a champion of Cerberus. Who the hell would’ve thought?
I promised to keep my lips sealed, which she ensured by the end of the night by planting a light, innocent peck right on my mouth. I wasn’t sure if it was some kind of witchery, a minor spell meant to bind my tongue and my lips, or an overly friendly, flirtatious goodbye. All I knew was that Bastion, who’d come back from his rounds, had his eyebrow arched way in the air when he saw it happen. All I knew was that I blushed so hard I could have burst into flames.
Prudence left, too, leaving just me and Herald to tend to the apartment. I hated that they’d already gone, but hadn’t taken the cloying tension with them. Herald and I sat next to each other on his gray couch, not really watching the food documentary playing on his flatscreen, casually avoiding the subject of there being a price on my head.
“Right,” he said, finally. “Elephant in the room. Let’s talk about this. I can barely breathe.”
“I’m okay,” I said flatly. “Honestly. I think I’ll be fine. The plan is solid. I just need to figure out where I’m going to head for, um, for what Romira calls a little vacation.”
Herald just stared at me, his eyes narrowed, judging from behind his glasses. I sighed.
“Dude. I said I’m okay. Okay?”
“If you say so.” He undid the top few buttons of his shirt, which, to Herald, was the equivalent of letting his hair down. “Gonna take a shower. I’ll leave a towel out for you if you need one, and I can probably find you a spare toothbrush.”
I smiled at him, not without fondness. Herald could be intense, and sarcastic, and cruel, but I always knew he was a softie at heart, especially when it came to me. “Thanks, man.”
As the water in the bathroom came on, I pulled out my phone, typing and deleting as I tried and failed to compose a text message to my dad. Would I even have time to see him before I left? I finally gave up, taking another pull of the same beer I’d been nursing since before dinner, wishing Herald would hurry the hell up in the shower so he could freshen up my drink with another chilling spell.
I guess I hadn’t noticed that he’d finished showering, because he reappeared again, somewhat damp and wrapped in a towel. He had his glasses on, but not much else. It was a whole lot more Herald than I expected to see, frankly speaking. Ever.
But I’ll be honest: it wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever seen. I couldn’t help myself.
“Dang,” I said. “You been working out?”
“Shut up,” he answered, clearly forcing back a flattered smile. He swept away the damp locks of hair clinging to his forehead, the peaks of his cheeks a little red, maybe from bathing in hot water, maybe from blushing. “Anyway. Your turn to shower. I’m not having you sleep on the couch when you’re all filthy.”
“I am not filthy,” I said, forcefully ignoring the fact that I hadn’t freshened myself up since at least morning, that I was probably still all grubby from the fight in Heinsite Park and our impromptu attack on the Viridian Dawn. I sniffed at myself, and winced. “Fine. Maybe I’m a little ripe. Okay. But did you say the couch?” I glanced at his bed, hopeful.
Herald scowled. “Not a chance, Graves. Get the hell in there.”
I went through the motions, scrubbing and soaping. As I dried myself off, I was about to call out to Herald and ask if I could borrow a change of clothes, when I noticed the tank top and shorts he’d neatly laid out for me on a tiny counter by the sink. I smiled. He really was so organized, and he really did think of everything. My little serial killer.
We spent the rest of the night dicking around on video games, which was a welcome distraction from the problem of instantly dying if I so much as stepped out of his apartment. I still go back to that night when I need a good memory to perk me up. I was with my best friend, laughing, frozen in time, safe for as long as I stayed in the warmth of his apartment.
Lights had to go out by midnight. Herald still needed to go to work the next day, after all. I sank into the couch, pulling the covers up over myself and sinking into a reasonably fluffy borrowed pillow. I wasn’t done messing around, though.
“Hey Herald?” I called into the darkness.
He grunted. “What?”
“You sure I can’t sleep in your bed? There’s room for both of us.” I grinned, even though he couldn’t see me. “I’ll even let you be the little spoon.”
He grunted again. “Nothing in that offer sounds like an incentive, Dust.”
“You’re no fun. It’s cold here. Shouldn’t the guest get the bed, and you take the couch? Whatever happened to the milk of human kindness?”
“We’re fresh out. Shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”
I tried. Some two or three minutes later, I realized I couldn’t.
“Hey Herald?”
“Oh my God,” he grumbled. “What is it?”
“Thanks. For everything.”
In the darkness I heard rustling, and through the gloom I spotted his silhouette. Herald was sitting up.