by Raythe Reign
And even if I told them, even if they saw the truth, they’d never believe it.
She tried to pump some energy into herself, even as she felt weighted down with the knowledge she could not share with all of them. That was what was draining her. If she had come into this scene with no knowledge of what had happened, she would have had that manic, reckless energy to find the killer or killers. But she already knew who had done this.
They’ve already taken that poor child into custody, the one that Cameron and I had to lock in the closet. The Gash left him. He was weeping uncontrollably when they let him out, confessing what the monster had made him do.
A mirthless smile crossed her thin lips. It wasn’t humor. It was hysteria. But she quickly wiped it away as her name was called by Lieutenant Peter Waldron, one of the state officers who had responded to the scene. Smiling at a scene like this was completely unwelcome.
“Sheriff Blake!” His voice was authoritative and booming usually, but it came out almost whispered, but she heard it as if he had shouted it in her ears.
Her head rose to regard the officer approaching her. She jerked in surprise. She saw one of the reasons why his voice sounded muffled. He was wearing a full biological hazard suit. It was white and plastic, crinkling when he walked. There was a contained air supply that puffed out the sleeves, chest and legs, making him look like the marshmallow cartoon character in the original Ghostbusters. Waldron was forty-nine with frost at the temples of his closely cropped dark hair. He had eyes the color of ice chips and an angular face. Most would call him handsome, but Mary only did so in the vaguest was as if checking off a survey.
Police officer? Check.
Twenty years with the force? Check.
Intensely attractive? Check.
After Kurt’s death, and then losing Liam, she hadn’t been willing to ever open her heart again to anyone. So though she and Waldron had been thrown together often enough - and he had shown more than a little interest in her - she had kept him at arm’s length.
But Liam’s back. My Liam is back! And magic and Aesir and monsters exist. Monsters who have destroyed so many lives tonight. So who knows what is possible anymore.
His handsomeness could only be viewed however through the plastic, clear faceplate. Mary stood up.
“Lieutenant Waldron, what’s going on?” she asked, even though alarm bells were ringing loud and clear.
Waldron stopped a foot in front of her. His icy blue eyes were not icy at all at the moment. They were filled with warmth and concern shielded though with a layer of professionalism and plastic, she noted. She was grateful warmth. It meant that she wasn’t seen as the enemy. Yet. She put her hands on her hips as she regarded him.
“They’re thinking what’s happened here is because of a virus, Mary,” he said, using her first name. Another good sign.
“A virus?”
That actually sounded good to her. If they thought it was a virus that would protect the innocent people the Gash had possessed. They couldn’t be tried and punished for a disease. She had already told the responding officers about being attacked by the child, about the boy appearing as if he was “sick” and most definitely not being himself. She had made it clear that the child had been “deranged” not sociopathic and certainly not responsible for what he had done. Evidently they had been listening to her. The virus theory would fit right in.
He nodded. “So they want everyone who has been in the hospital and potentially exposed to stay here.”
“A quarantine?” Her eyebrows arched up and her chest seized. Being quarantined meant that she would be out of commission. She’d meant to stay here awhile, keep the officials off the trail, but not indefinitely. She needed to get back to her sons. She needed to help them fight the Gash. “But that would take most of the officers off the streets and we know that we need people looking for those kids —”
“Plenty of officers are being called in who weren’t exposed, but, Mary, you need to stay here and we need to find your son.” He lifted his hands up and patted the air between them. “You told the responding officers that Cameron had left with his boyfriend, Liam?”
“His friend, not boyfriend,” she clarified stiffly.
She didn’t know why she didn’t want anyone to have that mistaken impression even though either lie would work. It wasn’t like anyone would believe that Liam was alive again and the brothers were having an incestuous affair.
It’s absurd anyways. They wouldn’t … they’ve always been close, loving and connected to each other in a way that few people are, but that doesn’t mean anything wrong is going on between them.
But she felt a frisson of unease even as she told herself she was being ridiculous. Something in her sons’ interactions had seemed … off. Or not off. They had seemed quite natural really, but natural for a couple. It was the first time she had seen them around one another as adults. Perhaps that was what was strange to her. There was this physicality between them that worried her somehow..
Why don’t I just outright admit it? I’m worried about genetic familial attraction! But it’s absurd!
Though Mary had never really believed in this theory it was pinging around in her head. It posited that people select mates like themselves both in physical looks as well as interests. Genetic sexual attraction was said to work on family members who met when they both were adults and formed romantic attachments because of this similarity between them. But, if the theory held water at all, it was said to occur in adoptive situations. Cameron and Liam had been inseparable until Liam’s “death”. They had grown up together. Liam had changed Cameron’s diapers. Given him piggy back rides. Taught him everything Cameron knew.
Except for art. That was Cameron’s realm alone while Liam’s was a mastery of his physical body and mechanics.
The point was that they complimented one another, but as siblings not as … not as … more.
“Oh, well, all right.” Waldron blinked and seemed surprised by her vehemence. “Why didn’t you have them stay, Mary? You knew that they would need to be questioned.”
“They went after some of the children that ran away,” she said, which was semi-truthful. For all the lies that she had to tell, they were lies of omission, which were easier to keep straight. Actively lying was more difficult especially with trained investigators like Waldron. “They believed they would lose them if they didn’t go immediately.”
“Have you heard from them?” he asked.
She shook her head. She knew that he would want to bring Cameron and Liam in. She couldn’t allow them to be quarantined, too. She wasn’t even sure Liam would allow himself to be quarantined. “No, and I’m very worried.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. Waldron studied her face. He knew how little emotion she showed so she didn’t want to overdo her concern. But let worry show in the lines around her eyes and a slightly downturned mouth. He seemed satisfied by her performance. He did not allow any of the tension to bleed out. That was a sign he would see, too.
“How are you doing, Mary?” Waldron asked, his voice low. He touched her elbow and his suit crinkled, which took away any comfort it would have offered.
Her gaze slid over to his shoulder to the dried pool of blood from the pile of doctors and nurses. She forced herself to focus on him. “I’ve been better.”
His gloved hand fisted. “Stupid question. I just wanted to know … if you were physically injured. I know you and you won’t admit it until it’s pulled out of you..”
She regretted her earlier answer. “I am all right. My head hurts, but that’s from the earlier attack.”
His gaze sharpened. There was something in his eyes that again . “Yes, with the parents who killed their child and then attacked you and Juan in their basement?”
She nodded. “It’s been quite the day.”
And the sad thing was that he didn’t know the half of what had happened.
His gaze slid over her body and it wasn’t one of desire, but worry. �
��I know you’ve already given a preliminary statement about them.”
And she had. She’d told the “truth” of what happened. “Yes, I really told all I know.”
“But you’re aware that telling it again will likely reveal more details that you missed the first time. Perhaps we could talk over in the lounge?” He gestured towards the visitor’s lounge where Liam had gone after Cameron.
She nodded wearily and started down the hallway. He crackled along beside her.
“The CDC will be coming to take blood samples and cordon off this entire area in an hour,” he said. There was a pause and then he added, “They are giving me updates on Juan. I’ll be sure to let you know whatever I hear.”
“I appreciate that,” she said, glancing over at him. But he was just a white plastic marshmallow man and there was no comfort in the sight of him.
They reached the lounge and she sank down again onto one of the chairs. Exhaustion was tugging on her every limb.
“I’m surprised that you’re allowing me to move around freely. If I’ve been infected I might be shedding virus all over the place.” She gestured around her to the chairs and table.
“They plan to burn this place after we’re done here,” he said and there was something so disgusted in his tone that her head snapped up.
“Peter?” she asked.
“This whole place is foul, you know?” he asked her and the hair on the back of her neck rose.
“I — I’m not sure I do.”
“This whole planet really. It’s so confining. All this meat walking around,” he spat and saliva speckled the front of the mask.
Mary started to stand, but then he reached and grabbed her shoulders and slammed her down. She stared into the clear mask. She didn’t see Peter’s face. There was something else behind that plastic. A monster. The Gash.
“What have you done? You need to get out of Peter,” she hissed.
His hands on her shoulders were heavy. He outweighed her by about eighty pounds and all of that was muscle. She was a foot shorter than him as well and sitting. But while Peter had been a fighter, she didn’t think the Gash was much of one. It didn’t really understand bodies and the power of muscle and bone.
She saw a gash of a smile on its face. “Not yet. We still need to talk.”
She thought that she would go for the knees and the groin. “I don’t think we have anything to say. My sons are going to stop you, send you to where you belong.”
“Your sons. Let’s talk about them.”
The Gash smiled again and it was horrible. Peter’s teeth were awash with blood as if he were rotting from the inside. It took all she had not to retreat from him, but he had her pressed down onto the couch and his legs were on either side of hers.
“You have nothing to say that I want to hear!” she snapped as she slowly moved her feet into position.
“You are correct. You don’t want to hear it, but I think you should.” The Gash tilted his head and there was the crinkle of plastic. The front of the mask was covered with fog and she was glad. She didn’t want to see Peter’s face transformed into that of the evil thing.
“You have nothing to say that I need to hear,” she corrected.
“You have concerns about your sons. How close they are,” the Gash lilted.
Her stomach dropped into her feet. She tried not to listen. The Gash was full of lies and corruption. Whatever it said would be terrible. It would twist the truth in such a way as to make it hurtful.
The plastic suit crackled more as the Gash tilted its head to regard her behind the fogged mask. “It is what you fear. Cameron and Liam are fucking each other as we speak right now. Your boys are drinking each other’s cum, licking each other’s assholes, plunging into each other’s bodies with their cocks -”
“Shut up!”
“Go to Fenrir. Go upstairs. See what I’m talking about.” The Gash gave a titter. “You won’t be able to deny your own eyes. And your sons won’t want you to.”
“You’re wrong,” she whispered, all the strength bleeding from her voice. The Gash wouldn’t tell her this if it wasn’t certain. She should take the shot at it now. She shouldn’t hesitate. She shouldn’t listen any more. Yet she hesitated.
“Now most people would assume that the older brother is the one that orchestrates the taking of the innocent of the younger one.” The Gash tapped the front of the mask as if ponder this issue. “But then they don’t know dear Cam, do they? We both know that is anyone was going to lead anyone into darkness, it would be Cameron leading Liam.”
She slammed her foot against the side of the Gash’s knee. The Gash’s leg collapsed under it and she snapped her own knee upwards under the Gash’s chin. It’s head jolted back and the suited figure collapsed onto the table. It splintered beneath its weight.
She jumped up and sprang over the figure and dashed towards the stairs. She had a chance of getting out of the hospital before the place was completely locked down. The hospital wasn’t just infested with memories of horror, but bits of the Gash itself. Who knew who else was infected? She had to get out of here. She had to get to her sons.
But why? To tell them what I know? See that they are safe? Or find out if they’re together like the Gash said?
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: BAD BLOOD
“That fire is getting bigger,” Liam remarked as he watched the flames get brighter. “So unless we want to have a fire outside of a fireplace in your apartment I need to get the extinguisher.”
“Yeah, that’s a plan, I think.” Cameron was still looking at his hands and forearms that were still red and gold with magic.
Liam kissed Cameron’s cheek and then leaped out of the bed. With only a sheet tied haphazardly around his waist, he took the stairs two at a time to the first floor. He burst through the door, eyes scanning the room for the familiar shape of the red fire extinguisher. What he saw was Loki sitting on Thor’s lap and both Aesir looking at one another with gut-wrenching expressions that indicated a serious discussion.
Thor’s head snapped towards him and, immediately, the Thunder God’s expression lightened. If Liam didn’t know better Thor seemed to be looking even more lovingly at him than before.
“Liam!” Thor’s voice was alight with delight.
“Liam?” Loki sounded slightly confused by his appearance and raised an eyebrow up.
“Where’s the fire extinguisher?” Liam asked as he dashed over to the bar and looked behind it, thinking it might be kept there.
“Why do you need a fire extinguisher exactly?” Loki asked.
“Cam set the nightstand on fire,” Liam explained and then caught sight of a red container with the words “fire extinguisher” stenciled on the side on the wall. He hopped over there, nearly stepping on the hem of the sheet, but managed to only flash Thor and Loki briefly before tugging the sheet back into place.
“There’s a fire?” Thor was immediately standing. He didn’t exactly dump Loki onto the floor, more like slid him off and set him down. Loki’s natural grace caused him to not even stumble.
“Not a big one,” Liam assured them as he yanked open the glass fronted case and took out the fire extinguisher.
“Not a — how did the fire happen exactly?” Loki asked, tilting his head to the side.
“How do you think it happened?” Liam gave him a look and headed over to the stairs. “Same way the ice happened.”
At that moment, there was a screech of tires outside, the click and thunk of a car door opening and shutting and then the bar’s door flew open. Sheriff Mary Blake stood in the threshold. Her gaze was fixed on Liam in the sheet.
And somehow he knew that she knew about him and Cameron.
It was something in her eyes that told him so. He froze where he was, sheet slipping down his backside, hands clutching the fire extinguisher to his bare chest. The Aesir, too, did not move upon her arrival. Thor looked almost comically guilty though he had done nothing wrong. Loki’s gaze was more speculative. It didn’t help th
ings when there was a clatter of bare feet on the stairs and Cameron stepped into the bar with just his underwear on and cum still dried on his stomach.
“Liam, what’s taking you so long? I managed to put the fire out with the blanket, but now we’re out the one good blanket I had – Mom! What – what are you doing here?” Cameron asked, sounding angry more than guilty, but that’s how Cameron always was when their mother caught him at something she didn’t approve of. Liam noted that his hands and forearms were still that sulfurous red with the swirling designs in gold that shimmered like firelight.
“I think we should have locked the door,” Loki said with a grimace. “Whoops.”
Everyone stared at him until Loki’s head lowered though Liam didn’t know if it was in real shame.
“Liam, we need to talk,” was all their mother said.
Liam didn’t know what he felt at that moment. She knew. She was angry. Maybe more than angry. Maybe horrified. Disgusted. She didn’t accept it. She didn’t want it. She would try and break them apart. He had to prepare. He had to protect Cameron from this.
“Okay. Let me get some pants on,” Liam said simply.
She opened her mouth as if to object, but then shut it and crossed her arms over her chest. Liam moved towards the door and urged Cameron up the stairs in front of him. He did not let go of the fire extinguisher. He figured they might need it if Cameron set something on fire again. Their mother’s presence wouldn’t help his little brother’s emotional state. It certainly wasn’t helping his own.
Cameron backed up the stairs, staring at their mother the whole time. There was something in the tense set to his brother’s shoulders and the hectic red that never bolded well. The fact that his brother had just set something on fire added to that.
“We’ll just stay here then!” Thor called up after them weakly before evidently turning to their mother. “Sheriff Blake, I should introduce myself. I am Thor –”
The rest of the conversation was lost as the door shut behind them. Cameron stopped in the middle of the stairs.