Welf didn’t so much sit as crumble into his chair. He blinked quite a bit and twitched about like he saw shadows. Guy needed some shuteye. “On the contrary, we are staying to show that Welfs cannot be driven away. Then a funeral the day after. Then I’ll finally return to my family’s home in Connecticut. Like Price said, I do not expect anything from you, but my box being repaired is acceptable.”
The Tsar chuckled, shaking his head. “You expect nothing of us? Yet you ask so much!”
Welf’s words were as pale as his face. “I haven’t a clue to what you’re speaking about, Mr. Black. I’ve asked nothing of you or this casino. King Vega made it very clear last night that the expectations of good society would not be met by this casino.”
The Tsar shifted from Welf to me. “You haven’t told him have you, you troublemaker?”
I shrugged like I hadn’t done anything at all. Just an innocent party, officer. “Figured it would be a nice surprise to brighten his somber fucking mourning, pun intended.”
Now it was Welf’s turn to study me. “What did you do?” he hissed.
“I didn’t get you justice . . . but I might be able to get you some revenge,” I told him.
[CLICK]
Welf waited until we were outside of the Tsar’s office to finally punch me.
He didn’t just punch me, he kind of sprawled all over me, dragging me to the floor as his cane tumbled behind us. I covered up my face as he scratched and clawed and flailed in my general direction. By the time he was done, he crumbled off me, to his hands and knees. He looked like a wild animal, sounded like one too.
Nothing civilized left in him. Welf or not, he was nothing but emotion and flesh.
I watched from beside him as he started sobbing into the carpeted floor.
Pushing myself against a wall, I gave him space. “Sorry, Welf, wasn’t really any time to call you.”
“She was just waiting for you?” he hissed between sobs. “She was just waiting for you? You didn’t have to do anything? No hunting, no deal-making. She just gave it to you?!?! You? He was my friend, Foul Mouth! That was my right! Mine! And you took it for yourself! It was given to you before me! Like always! Why are you always in my way?!?! WHAT DID I DO TO CURSE MYSELF WITH YOU?!?!”
Welf staggered to his feet, teeth clenched, long, regal face red. His thin-fingered hands clasped in my geomancer’s coat as he hunched down over me. His whole body shook, head to toe. “Why?” he hissed in pain.
Wasn’t sure which of the questions he wanted answered, but I went with, “I always hit back, Welf. You always can’t help but say something. That equation gets balanced.”
He landed a punch into my stomach.
I took it just fine, making sure not to laugh at it. I wanted to laugh, always laughed off punches. Came from when I used to laugh over Dad beating on me. Was better to laugh than to cry, hurt less that way and seemed to go quicker.
But laughing wouldn’t be fair to Welf. I don’t know much about emotion, but I do get pain. I do get grief and regret. I made sure not to laugh. “We never would’ve been friends, Welf,” I told him some more. “But I do wonder if you hadn’t called me a little shit and I hadn’t punched you . . . well, it was probably Fate.
“Or maybe you want another ‘why’? Why me fighting Sapa? The Curator wants to kill me more than he wants to kill you. He didn’t ever want to kill you actually. Not sure what she was up to still, but it had to do with your parents and it would’ve been bad. You always think about your failures, man. I’m not much of a positive thinker, but . . . I’m better than you at it. Your mom or dad could be dead right now. You realize that? Instead we stopped Isabel before she ever got close to them.”
“She knew that whole time, Foul Mouth,” Welf raged at me. “She befriended him and just watched as he went right to his death. I took her into my bed, I brought her into my circle. That was me! I was the weak link! I thought . . . I thought I was . . .”
“I know,” I told him. “I know exactly what you’re going through. But . . . Isabel is beyond me at the moment. So is the Curator himself. One day we’ll kill that fucker, Welf. When that day comes, I’ll call you, cuz I’ll need everyone I can get, even douchebag Nazi assholes.”
He pushed away from me, sleeve wiping across his face. The boy who couldn’t cry not able to stop the tears once they finally came. “It should have been me in the cage . . .”
“You ain’t a fighter.”
“I am a Welf!”
“What does that mean? You’re father ain’t a fighter either! Grandpa wasn’t a fighter!”
“My Grandfather—”
“Slew the blahblah of blahblah, I got ya. Don’t start. You ain’t a fighter. You’re a patrician. You make deals. You wield influence. You get your way. You don’t get into a cage and punch a man until he dies. That’s what I’m going to do, Welf. I’m gonna kill Conan Sapa. For Jason, for you, for me, for all the kids he’s kidnapped over the last few years. Normally these things are a mess—running all over the fucking town and the state and . . . other places. Not this time. This time I get it all placed at my feet cuz of how much the Curator wants me dead, cuz the Curator is the only person in the world I know who is more of an arrogant asshole than Heinrich von Welf.”
He wouldn’t look at me now. “I’m returning to my room to sleep,” he mumbled.
“You’re welcome?”
His Construct punched me as it walked by . . . that knocked me off my feet.
My turn to be on my hands and knees.
But I didn’t cry.
I just laughed.
Session 157
My own fault.
Thinking about Conan Sapa too much.
Thinking about what I would do when I got in the cage with him.
Spent most the morning readying everyone for what would be happening. Day of Finesse up next for most of the people at the Ouroboros, but like any of our group could focus on the event . . . even though that’s the whole reason we were in Vegas to begin with. Yeah, don’t you remember? Pocket and T-Bone wanted you to relax and get your mind off Val.
My mind was off of Val.
Not so good on trying to get me to relax though.
Too much had happened since the inelegant start of this divine fucking comedy. Shock, death, loss.
Wasn’t no comedy.
Was a revenge play.
Justice was out, but revenge was in the air.
Maybe I have Welf call up Jackson’s ghost so we can get Shakespearean up in this bitch!
We had an enemy, ready and willing. Conan Sapa, anima-roided corpusmancer that he was. Focus in on him. Fight to the death. Can’t half ass it, can I? Got to find out what we can about him. Got to study the fight tape with Jason, see if there’s a clue to beating Sapa in there. If not . . . I’d do it the hard way. Got to do some training tomorrow too, so I could at least go into the fight loose, if not prepared.
Had a target.
Conan Sapa.
Keeping an eye out for Isabel, but . . . for as much as she fucked with me, she really never threatened me in the last few days, unless you count the whole underwear thing and as far as Isabel was concerned that’s foreplay for the next time we tried to fuck each other to death. Wants me and Paine to be buddy-buddy. Better chance of me and Welf hugging out our feelings and burying the grudge.
As if.
I’m not a total asshole, so I did go by to check on Welf after I got some breakfast in me. Vicky had forced some sleeping pills down his throat when he returned from the meeting with the Tsar, babbling and sobbing and generally just a wreck of a once proud lineage.
Something must have clicked inside of her.
Her own tears were gone.
The Welf genes worked overtime to erase any kindness, leaving only efficiency as she took over for her brother, arranging and handling phone calls. She even made up spectro-anima lists that hung in the air all over the Welf suite. Impressive if a little too OCD. T-Bone tried to convince her that maybe computer f
iles would be longer lasting, but she just frowned at the suggestion.
“I have it under control,” she mumbled. “Though this is a horrible idea, King Henry. We’ve already gotten a call from the Learning Council forbidding you from doing it. Not that they’re doing anything about the matter. Apparently the Recruiters and ESLED are fighting over jurisdiction, what a mess. Then Mother called . . . that was fun.”
“She ain’t coming, is she?”
“No. As I said, the Learning Council is in meetings. She’s been forced to attend. However, she’s never liked what you did to Brother, so she’ll probably support you fighting Sapa in the hope you die just like Jason did.”
“Well, that’s one vote!” T-Bone tried to improve the statement’s very limp Happy-Joy-Joy meter.
“I thought only teachers and staff were on the Learning Council?”
Vicky glanced at T-Bone, then at me. “She’s . . . a special case.”
“He knows about the Maximus thing.”
“Oh good!” Vicky brightened up. “I’m horrible at secrets! Especially to the cute boy in my life!”
“Join the club,” I grumbled.
“Still doesn’t tell them to me,” T-Bone also grumbled.
“I’m working up to it! Give me some space!”
“If you die before you tell me, I’ll have Heinrich bring you back from the dead.”
“Don’t you start calling him ‘Heinrich’ too. I have to wash my mouth out every time I say that bullshit name.”
Vick gave me a long look. “You realize it’s just a German version of ‘Henry’ right? You both literally have the same name.”
“Except his middle name is ‘Fuhrer’?”
“And I’m done talking with you,” she announced, “excuse me while I keep your little cage match from starting a political incident between the Were Nations and the Learning Council.”
“Glad to have you on the team, Vick.”
“Of course you are,” she mumbled, making another list with her finger.
My own fault.
Yes it was
Should have been paying attention.
But too much else going on.
T-Bone had a whole setup going in Vicky’s living room. I tried not to hold it against him that he’d apparently abandoned me for another team—mostly since the other team had a vagina . . . and a vagina stretchy enough to take on the big black wang without tapping out.
. . . What?
I haven’t forgotten about it.
I’ve seen smaller dogs is all I’m saying.
Of course I’ve seen smaller cats. Had me a hermaphrodite midget dragonkin cat, remember? It fit in your hand. Used to jump up on the VCR for warmth. Only lived three years.
JoJo named it Midget.
Which goes to show you it runs in the family.
Where was I?
Oh that’s right . . . didn’t see it coming.
Too sidetracked.
Didn’t see it coming.
Story of my life.
On the first computer T-Bone was hacking into the Ouroboros for whatever information they had on Sapa, even if it was fake. A secondary tablet had up a view of a few security cameras around the place too, so someone could always watch our rooms even if they were unoccupied. Then on another computer he was re-cutting tape of the fight from all of the arena’s feeds. Presumably so I could watch it later.
“Where did you get all that stuff from?”
“I prepacked it on the RV when we got gas,” he admitted.
“You ain’t playing that stupid card game still, are you? While my life is in danger?”
He delicately put down a second tablet. “Of course not.”
Wasn’t just T-Bone helping out. I had tasked Pocket and Jesus with booking some type of gym, somewhere in the city that we could use it for training tomorrow, handing them my Ouroboros money card still heavy with electronic fake cash. “See if you can’t spend some of it. Like . . . get food or something too . . .”
“One-hundred thousand dollars of food?” Pocket asked.
“Or buy hookers and blow? I mean . . . might be my last day on Earth, right?”
“I know what to do, we’ll just pay Isabel to cater for us the next couple days and she’ll do both for you.”
“Okay, you need to leave before I punch you.”
Pocket grinned at me. “Or maybe I’ll buy a fern or ten-thousand and fill your room up with them.”
Then I got a call from Ceinwyn.
I didn’t answer.
She didn’t leave a message.
Then I got a call from Valentine.
I still didn’t answer.
But she did leave a message.
“I know why you’re doing it, King Henry. I’d never tell you not to. I just wish I was there to help you . . . and Heinrich and . . . I can’t believe that Jason’s dead. I’ve been so busy I don’t think it’s really registered that I’ll never see him strolling around Recruiters HQ again.
“I know this isn’t very fair of me after I broke up with you, but I just wanted you to know I’m still rooting for you. And that . . . well, maybe I’ll call you after. Try not to break too many of your knuckles when you’re kicking his ass, okay?”
Just dial her back.
Dial her back and tell her you love her.
Do it, you fucktard!
I held the phone in my hands, staring at the contacts button.
I thought about it.
I thought about it for a little more.
The phone rang again.
Almost dropped the damn thing in shock.
Checked the name on it . . . not the one I wanted to see, but not too bad either.
Eva.
I put the phone up to my ear.
“Sorry I’m just getting around to checking on you, Lover Boy,” she preemptively apologized, “but I’ve been dark.”
“That’s fine. I’ve been a little busy.”
T-Bone glanced up from his computer desk. “Who is it?” he mouthed.
“Eva,” I mouthed back.
T-Bone checked to make sure Vicky hadn’t seen and then very purposely buried himself in his work station.
“I’ve heard,” Eva said with a laugh. “Not very often that they break protocol to keep me informed, but at least I wasn’t in a dangerous situation when my phone started flashing the Bat Signal.”
“They ain’t gonna send you to kidnap me, are they? It’s okay if you do kidnap me, but I’d rather it be cuz you can’t keep your hands off me than an order from the Lady.”
“I’ve heard everything,” she amended, “not just about Jason and your stupid cage fight.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means I don’t plan on kidnapping you for my pleasure until you’ve been checked out at a clinic . . . or three.”
“Isabel’s just crazy as shit, that ain’t catching. Welf slept with her too . . . for two whole months. He’d be showing symptoms by now, so I have to be in the clear.”
She laughed again, but it was slightly forced. “How is he?”
“Unconscious. Vick’s in charge of everything that ain’t kicking ass.”
“About that . . . the Learning Council is very angry about the precedent this is setting. They didn’t like the casino to start with and now we’ve added blood games on top of mancer sporting events.”
I gave a shrug she couldn’t see. “I took the best offer on the table. Like I told Welf, this is better than running my ass all over Vegas looking for someone. How’s that working out for you, by the way? I don’t think you gave me an answer.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Says the woman making my business her business.”
“Says the woman who was told by her bosses to make your business her business. Plus, you don’t have security clearance.”
“How I go about getting that?”
“Seat on the Learning Council, be a chief operating officer of ESLED, or work as Fines Samson’s future re
placement.”
“That all sounds like shit.”
“You always liked Samson.”
“He let me punch people and break things.”
“I do those too.”
“Not much of it from the way you’re holding back on me.”
“Are you calling me a failure, Lover Boy?”
“Guess that depends on if you caught your shadow or not, Peter Pan.”
Silence.
“All aboard the fail boat!” I teased her.
“He’s really good, okay! Better than Samson good! And I’m very close now!”
“So close you had time to spare sweet talking me?” I said in an overly exaggerated deep, husky voice.
“Actually . . . the two might go together.”
“How’s that?”
“I think the shadow I mentioned that my shadow is hunting is likely Isabel.”
“Good thing he didn’t find her when she had me tied to my bed with my underwear over my face.”
Silence.
“Remember that time we found that lake and went skinny dipping and our clothes were blown away?” I tried to change the subject.
“If by ‘blown away’ you mean you bribed Raj to steal them while we were in the water, then yes, I remember that.”
“Aww, how’d you find out?”
“I interrogated him, Pocket, and Jesus once we snuck back onto the school grounds.”
“You just take the mystery out of life.”
“You made me spend a whole day and night naked, Lover Boy.”
“To be fair, even if we had the clothes we wouldn’t have had much reason to keep them on, given what we kept doing . . . over and over and over. And over.”
She pulled some time travel on me and did a rewind back to before this dangerous reminiscing on our sexual exploits together. “Since Welf told the Learning Council about you sleeping with Isabel and her being escaped and working for the Curator—”
“Wait . . . what?”
“I’m told Miss Dale cursed for five minutes straight. She started repeating herself at the end.”
The Foul Mouth and the Mancy Martial Artist (The King Henry Tapes Book 5) Page 41