The Church of Sleep (Central Series Book 5)

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The Church of Sleep (Central Series Book 5) Page 56

by Zachary Rawlins


  “I’ve got my regrets,” Renton confirmed, cracking open the can. “Sad old Uncle Renton, that’s me. The two of you could stand to learn from my example.”

  Renton tried to drink, but only a bit of slush leaked out of the mouth of the can. He shook the can cautiously and found it to be completely frozen.

  “You could stand to learn to watch your mouth where Eerie is concerned,” Alex said. “I won’t warn you again.”

  Renton grimaced and set the frozen beer aside.

  “I’m not the one ignoring the girl I’m about to lose,” Renton said. “Go ahead and think I’m crass, or whatever you like, but I promise you that three days from now you’re going to be right back here, bitching and moaning and wishing you spent more time with her.”

  They were all quiet. Vivik watched nervously as Alex stewed, while Renton drank and admired the empty sky, looking entirely unworried.

  Alex nodded slowly.

  Vivik grinned and went to finish his beer.

  “You’ll wish you’d spent more time inside of her,” Renton said, adding a crude gesture to illustrate his point. “If you know what I mean.”

  ***

  Emily stomped downstairs to the kitchen, wearing her nightdress and blushing furiously.

  “There’s just no point in my even trying, is there? How rude! How inconsiderate.” She put on the kettle, took a cookie from the cute ceramic jar on the counter, and then sat at the kitchen table with a sigh. “Stupid gross boys! Don’t bother keeping your feelings to yourselves! I just won’t get any sleep at all tonight. It isn’t as if all our lives depend on my performance tomorrow!”

  ***

  After returning from the roof, Vivik lost himself in his windows. He did his best to put aside his guilt and worry, directing the cluster of gleaming windows with the ease of a deity going about his business, his head so full of equations that he felt they should have come bleeding out of his ears and pouring from his eyes. Vivik felt a competency that bordered on boredom as he surveyed the windows, rotating between views and sorting for relevance.

  He also felt overlooked, and still a bit drunk, but that only made sense.

  He was a spectator even in his own life, or at least that was what Vivik was starting to suspect.

  That was fine, too. Looking through windows was always interesting.

  The equations did their job. The windows he did not want to see stayed far away and invisibly small.

  His favorite window remained front and center, no matter how he tried to delude himself. It currently showed Emily doing the dishes in the kitchen of her townhouse. She was dressed for bed, with her hair down.

  Vivik reached for the window, meaning to swipe it away, but then he just stood there with his arm out.

  Emily smiled, just slightly, as she scrubbed the pans with a blue sponge.

  He was startled by a knock at the door.

  A new window immediately snapped into place.

  Leigh Feld was at his door, wearing running shorts and a pink tank-top despite the chill of the evening. She looked very impatient, perhaps even annoyed, though Vivik could not imagine what he had done.

  He quickly wrapped his turban and headed for the door.

  She rang the bell twice in the time it took him to descend the stairs.

  “Just a moment!” Vivik fumbled with the bolt. “Hello?”

  He opened the door and found the vampire scowling, her finger hovering over the bell.

  She did not say anything.

  “What’s going on?” Vivik felt very conscious of being in his linen sleepwear, though Leigh was scarcely better attired. “Are you okay, Leigh?”

  “Yes,” Leigh said. “Can I come in?”

  “Of course,” Vivik said, holding the door for her and trying not to think about old stories, and the general folly of inviting vampires inside. “Did Emily send you?”

  “Not exactly,” Leigh said, looking around his living room. “You keep things pretty tidy, huh?”

  Vivik nodded, feeling mildly embarrassed.

  “I’m not a neat freak or anything, but,” he gestured at the spotless coffee table, the neatly arranged pillows on the couch, and the carefully swept floors, “well, I suppose you could say that I don’t like clutter.”

  “That’s good,” Leigh said. “I’m the same way. Except I don’t own anything, really, and I mostly eat for fun, so I don’t have to pick up all that much.”

  “Is that so?” Vivik shifted nervously. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  More vampire stories in his head. Ridiculous.

  “I’m fine.” Leigh glanced at the stairs. “Is the rest of your place this neat?”

  “Oh, uh, yes,” Vivik said, flustered. “I guess that it is.”

  “Bedroom included?”

  Vivik nodded, his stomach doing a series of near-perfect backflips.

  “That’s good. Want to show it to me?”

  Leigh looked at him, then looked away.

  “Uh, what?” Vivik gave her a bewildered look. “Why would you…? I mean, it’s nothing special. All of these townhouses have the same layout.”

  “Do I really have to spell it out?” Leigh sighed. “I just got back from the field, and I’m probably going right back out tomorrow. The last few weeks have been crazy and intense, and I’m feeling stressed. I’m looking for some company. Are you interested?”

  “I’m, uh, I…this is so unexpected!” Vivik gestured frantically. “I had no idea that you felt that way about me!”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t have a crush on you, and I don’t want to go out or anything,” Leigh said. “I’ve been working nonstop for weeks. I betrayed one boss, and my new boss is even more demanding. I’ve done nothing but sneak around and get into fights. I can’t even remember how many times Alistair stabbed me. It’s been…well, it’s been pretty fun, honestly.”

  Leigh grinned at him, and Vivik relaxed just a little.

  “It’s what I’m built for, and I mean that literally. I like what I do, but the schedule lately has been a little…” Leigh shrugged. “I’m not a machine. I have outside interests.”

  “That’s good,” Vivik said. “Everyone should.”

  “Sometimes I need to let off some steam.”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  “Emily told me I’m back at it tomorrow, and probably will be for a while. This is my breather,” Leigh said. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but there’s basically no single guys around the Far Shores right now, at least that I know enough to talk to.”

  “Oh,” Vivik said. “Huh.”

  “Don’t get upset,” Leigh said. “It’s just the truth. There’s Renton and Alex, and that’s…ugh. No way and no thank you. Then, there’s you. I don’t mind you, Vivik.”

  “Oh.” Vivik looked at her for the first time in a little while. “Really?”

  “Yes. So, I asked Emily…”

  “You did what?” Vivik felt dizzy. “Oh my God.”

  “Don’t freak out! I didn’t want to bother if you wouldn’t be receptive. It’s too embarrassing, and I don’t have time to figure it out for myself,” Leigh said. “She didn’t tell any secrets or anything. She told me that I might not be wasting my time, that’s all.”

  Vivik nodded, not at all sure why.

  “So, am I?”

  “Are you…?”

  “Am I wasting my time?” Leigh said. “Are you going to invite me upstairs?”

  “I, uh, I don’t know,” Vivik said. “This is so sudden!”

  “Listen, just, don’t make more of this than it is. There’s nothing to read into.”

  “I guess I just don’t know what to do,” Vivik said. “I mean, I’m flattered, and, and I do…you are beautiful,” he said, blushing. “I just never thought…”

  “Maybe you should shut up,” Leigh said, her fingers brushing one of his arms, “instead of talking yourself out of a sure thing.”

  “You are so right,” Vivik said, with conviction. “Would you like
to come upstairs?”

  ***

  Emily smiled as she finished the counters and folded her apron.

  “Good for you, Vivik,” she said quietly, turning the lights off as she left the kitchen. “Was that bad of me, I wonder? I’m meddling again, aren’t I?”

  She climbed the stairs slowly, preoccupied with shared joy and mild regret.

  There were still a reasonable number of hours left in the night. She had meant to read a little before she went to sleep, but she decided that washing down an Ambien with a glass of red wine was the better option.

  ***

  Katya was not impeded by the dark, so she was perfectly fine raiding the snack cupboard in the commissary without turning on the lights. The ability was a relic from her time in assassin’s training, and from the many surgeries that had put her back together again, after everything went wrong.

  It came in handy on occasion.

  Deciding between brownie bites and shortbread cookies at one in the morning, for example.

  I’m going to turn on the light, okay?

  Katya sighed and left off her rummaging, going with the shortbread.

  She had no desire for company in the first place, and even less so barefoot and in her pajamas, but her visitor was not one to take a hint.

  She blinked very hard, in a certain, just-so manner. When the lights came on a second later, her eyes did not need to adjust, and she was not dazzled.

  Renton stood at the door to the commissary, with a beer in one hand and most of a six-pack in the other. He only had one crutch, and he had started to bleed through a couple of his bandages, which were dotted with dull red stains.

  “You shouldn’t eat so late,” he admonished her, limping into the room. “You’ll get fat, and then you’ll die alone.”

  “Do you always have to immediately remind me how much you suck?” Katya hopped onto the counter beside the sink. “I’ll have you know I skipped dinner.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re allowed to eat cookies,” Renton scolded, leaning against the counter on the other side of the sink. “Those are just sugar and fat.”

  “Who are you to talk?” Katya tore open the package, and pointedly shoved an entire piece of shortbread into her mouth. “You’re drinking beer,” she said, around the cookie. “Lots of carbs in beer.”

  “Yeah, but there’s also alcohol,” Renton said. “You want one?”

  Katya nodded. Renton tossed her a can without so much a glance in her direction, which landed directly in her waiting hands.

  She knew that Renton not bothering with pretense was a bad sign.

  Telepaths were trained from childhood to disguise their abilities and vastly heightened perception. No one appreciated knowing that a stranger was reading their mind.

  Katya finished her package of shortbread and brushed the crumbs from her lap.

  “You must have struck out with everyone else if you are here with me,” Katya observed. “Are you off your game?”

  “Must be,” Renton said. “Look at the state of me.”

  “Yeah.”

  Renton put his beer down with a bit too much force, and it foamed on to the counter.

  “I’ve never been as jealous of anyone as I was with Timor,” Renton said, spitting out the words as if he resented their existence. “I know exactly how Anastasia felt about him. I could feel it every time we were all in the same room. She thinks she’s got perfect control, but I knew.”

  “I thought you might,” Katya said. “I knew it, too, but I’m not sure how much Timor ever noticed.”

  “He knew, but he thought it was cute, a passing crush from a girl he admired and loved like a little sister, the bastard,” Renton said. “He had you, too. The two of you were like this,” Renton said, holding up intertwined fingers. “You were always in his corner, even when you were just kids.”

  “That seems natural to me. We were all that we had.”

  “I was given to Anastasia, same as you. But I came alone. No sister to look after me, like Timor. Everyone liked Timor, so he was never really alone.”

  “Yeah,” Katya said. “He was hard not to like.”

  Renton nodded, a sour expression on his face.

  “Are you going to take Emily up on her offer?” Katya asked, opening the last beer. “You going back to Central tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. I need to get back to Ana. She’s not safe till I’m with her.”

  “She’s not safe until every member of the Thule Cartel is dead,” Katya said. “You know that.”

  “Spoken like an assassin. There are other ways to resolve conflicts.”

  “Spoken like a diplomat. You can’t talk your way out of a blood feud. Josef and Pavel are dead. Ana’s honor demands that she avenge them. That’s not the sort of thing you solve with a conversation.”

  “Yeah.” Renton grimaced, and adjusted his cast. “Maybe.”

  She handed him what was left of the beer, and he took a swig from it.

  “You’re going to try and kill him again, aren’t you?” Renton glanced at her. “You plan on taking Gaul Thule out yourself.”

  “Yeah,” Katya said. “I do.”

  “For Ana? Or for Timor?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Katya said. “Dead is dead.”

  “It fucking matters,” Renton said bitterly. “It makes a big difference to me.”

  “What?” Katya gave him a look. “What does that mean?”

  “If you are doing this for Ana, that’s a professional disagreement, and we’ve had those before.” Renton crushed the empty can against the counter. “If you are planning on doing it for Timor, well, that’s another thing.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “You know why. You know the stakes Anastasia set. Did you really think I’d let that opportunity pass me by?”

  “She’s not gonna marry you, Renton.” Katya shot a longing glance at the snack cupboard. “She can’t marry anyone who isn’t a member of a Great Family, or there will be a civil war. You have to be realistic.”

  “Well, killing Gaul Thule isn’t going to bring your brother back,” Renton said. “You need to be realistic.”

  Katya grimaced, then folded her arms, and then laughed.

  “Point taken,” she said. “You’re such a dick.”

  “Yeah.” Renton shifted uncomfortably. “Don’t take it personally.”

  “As long as you do the same,” Katya said. “Deal?”

  “Do what you gotta do.” Renton sighed, and looked away. “Just don’t get yourself killed, okay?”

  “That’s what you never understood about being an assassin, Renton.” Katya smiled mirthlessly. “We are disposable.”

  Twenty-One

  Day Five

  “My price is merited and extraordinarily high,” Henry North explained, toying with his fountain pen, his wife Sofia standing just beside him. “You will resign, Ms. Levy, and will use your talents and influence to make sure that the Board and the Assembly vote to have me as the next Director.”

  “You just come right out and say it, don’t you?” Rebecca winced. “That’s a lot to ask.”

  Michael nodded somberly, looking a bit wan from his extended stay in the Academy infirmary, and a shorter stay in the makeshift medical center at the occupied Far Shores.

  “We are all very grateful for your assistance with Egill and the Thule Cartel, Lord North,” Michael said. “You seem to have a flair for timely interventions,” he added, eyeing Sofia. “Gratitude has its limits, however.”

  “Surely, Mr. Lacroix, but this isn’t just about gratitude, is it?” Henry smiled. “We are discussing necessity. You need me.”

  “You want the Directorship,” Rebecca said wonderingly. “You want to control Central. You want my job.”

  “In all fairness,” Lord North said, “I think we can all agree that your performance in this role has been very poor.”

  Michael coughed into his hand, while Rebecca looked away and muttered beneath her breath.

  “We a
ll have limitations,” Sofia offered, with a kindly expression. “You were a remarkable Chief Auditor, and an excellent counselor and administrator at the Academy, Director Levy.”

  “This was not a job you sought or asked for, as I recall,” Lord North said, glancing fondly at his wife. “Have you since developed a taste for it?”

  “Not at all,” Rebecca said sourly. “I just don’t trust you to wield so much unchecked power. No offense.”

  “None taken,” Lord North assured her. “Let us check my power, then, shall we? Instead of ceding the Directorship, you will convene the Board and create a new title. Chief Administrator, perhaps. This new office will have sole discretion over Central’s foreign policy, defense, and economic matters. Then you will resign the Directorship.”

  Rebecca opened her mouth to object, and Lord North held up his hand.

  “Please, Ms. Levy, allow me to finish,” he said, grinning. “My wife has already anticipated your objections, and I assure that we will address them. Before resigning, you will nominate Mr. Lacroix as the new Director, and I will assure that he receives sufficient votes in the Assembly. While his role will be somewhat diminished, Director Lacroix will hold sole authority over the Academy, its grounds, and its students.”

  Rebecca and Michael exchanged an astonished look.

  “With all due respect, Lord North,” Rebecca said, “that still leaves the Hegemony in complete control of Central.”

  “The Director and the Chief Administrator will both have to approve the Chief Auditor,” Lord North continued. “I would suggest that you, Ms. Levy, would be the ideal candidate for replacing Alice Gallow, who I think we can all agree is in no way qualified to take on a leadership position, her obvious talents in the Audits Department aside.”

  “I get the sense that you haven’t been much of a fan of my work,” Rebecca said. “Or Alice’s, for that matter.”

  “I have the utmost respect for your talents and achievements in every other role,” Henry North said. “Your work as an Auditor is beyond reproach, and my children absolutely rave about your work at the Academy. Yours as well, Mr. Lacroix.”

 

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