by J. Stone
Walking up to the bar and finding a stool, the woman behind the counter approached her and asked, “What can I get you?”
“Whiskey,” she replied, dropping her hands on the counter in an attempt to keep them from shaking from rage.
“You have a brand?”
She shook her head. “Cheap and strong.”
The bartender tapped her knuckles twice against the wood of the counter and nodded. “Alright.”
She grabbed a shot glass from under the bar, setting it on the counter in front of Wynonna. Then, she twisted around and grabbed a bottle from behind her. She poured the whiskey into the glass, and started to turn around to put the bottle back.
Wynonna pulled the silver coins from her pocket and slapped them haphazardly on the counter. “Leave the bottle,” she told the woman before taking the first shot.
“Oh. Alright,” the bartender replied, putting the bottle on the counter in front of Wynonna.
The vespari immediately grabbed the bottle and poured another shot, spilling a bit on the counter from her shaking hands, as the bartender took what Wynonna owed her. After taking the shot, Wynonna decided that the glass was unnecessary. Gripping the bottle by the neck, she raised the whole thing to her lips and took several much too large gulps. She stopped only when it became too much, and she lowered the bottle back to the bar, coughing, sputtering, and spitting up a bit of the whiskey.
“Are you okay?” the woman behind the counter asked with a concerned expression on her face.
Wynonna gave her a mild glare. “I’m dandy,” she replied.
From there, things degraded. Wynonna knew she finished the bottle. She remembered getting into a fight with someone. She remembered getting kicked out only to go in search of another bar. The parts in between were hazy at best. After a while though, the entire experienced disappeared, and she blacked out completely.
***
A wet crunching sound jarred Wynonna awake. She opened her eyes, getting a dose of light and immediately closed them back, the brightness only exacerbating the pain pounding in her head. Her stomach swirled, her skull throbbed, and her mouth was dry. She had trouble remembering anything that had happened, but she had a pretty good idea why. The taste and smell of alcohol lingered on her breath, as did that of vomit. She wasn’t hung over; she was still drunk.
Then, that wet crunch repeated again, and Wynonna braved opening her eyes once more. Through squinted double vision, she saw that she was in an alley, staring up at the bricks of the surrounding buildings reaching into the sky. Under her, she felt blankets, and when she sat up, her duster, which she’d used as a makeshift cover, fell off her chest and settled in her lap.
Ahead of her, sitting on a wooden crate and holding an apple in his hand sat a familiar young man. In that hazy, still half-drunk state, she struggled to remember his name and where she knew him from. He, meanwhile, just stared back with a smile and then took another bite out of his apple.
“PJ?” Wynonna warily asked.
“Morning,” he replied after swallowing the bite of apple.
“What happened?”
“You drank. A lot. An entire brewery from the looks of things.”
“Yeah. I got that part.”
“I found you as you were being politely asked to leave what you claimed was your third bar.”
“Mm.”
“After much convincing, I managed to get you back here to my… let’s be generous and call it a home.”
Wynonna’s eyes darted side to side, seeing where this homeless young man lived. “Did we, uh… do anything else?”
PJ smiled at her. “As much as I would’ve liked that, I’m not sure you were in a good enough state to be any fun.”
The vespari raised her hand to her mouth and breathed into it to get a whiff of her breath. Revolted, she jerked her head away, nearly vomiting again.
“Yeah,” PJ said with a nod. “Plus there was that.” He pushed off the crate and crawled onto his knees in front of her. He then dug through the pockets of Wynonna’s duster, pulling out her canteen. “Here,” he told her. “Take a drink.”
She took it from his hand, uncorked the top, and took a swig. She then swished it around, and when she’d collected some of the filth lingering in her mouth, she spit it out, splashing in on the cobbled alleyway. With some of the taste gone, she took another drink, this time swallowing the water.
PJ held the apple up. “Want a bite?”
Wynonna felt her guts lurch in response. She shook her head. “I don’t think so. What else happened last night?”
“Well, I don’t know the whole story. I just tried to keep you from getting into too much trouble.”
Wynonna laughed then winced as the pain in her head flared in response. “I’m expected to believe that you kept me out of trouble last night?”
PJ leaned forward, flicked the brim of the vespari’s hat, and then hopped to his feet. “Like I said, found you getting kicked out of a bar. You could barely stand. Figured you could use a little help.”
Wynonna rubbed her temples and slowly got to her feet too. “I don’t remember that at all.”
“I’d expect not.”
“So, am I correct to assume that I still haven’t seen you naked?”
PJ smiled with a little laugh. “You have not. Nor have I had the distinct pleasure of seeing you without your clothes on.”
Wynonna stepped toward him, wrapped her hands and crossed them around the back of his neck, and pressed his body toward hers. “And why is that? I think we should rectify this situation.”
Pressing his forehead to hers, he said, “I see you’re feeling better.”
“No, but I want to feel better.”
“Well, I’d be happy to. You got somewhere we can go?”
Leaning her lips toward his, she asked, “What’s wrong with right here?”
He chuckled. “Not quite as private as I’d like.”
She smiled. “Then, let’s put on a show.”
“You might be pretty open minded, but not everyone else is.”
“Screw what everyone else thinks.”
He shook his head against hers. “It’s not about what they think. It’s about what they’ll do.”
“I will put a bullet in anyone who lays a finger on you.”
PJ pulled back and turned away from her. “That’s real sweet and all, but it seems a bit impractical. Plus, I have my doubts that you can even see straight right now.”
“Well, what about a little privacy?” she asked, following him a few paces. “Somewhere no one will ask any questions?”
“And where might that be?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. We could get a room.”
“That sounds nice, but…” PJ pointed to his scant possessions and the makeshift bed Wynonna had woken up in. “I clearly can’t afford a room even for one night. And judging by how much you drank last night, I expect you spent all the silver you had.”
She investigated her mostly empty pockets. “You bring up an excellent point, but I think you’re underestimating just how much I want you to tear my clothes off. Preferably with your teeth.”
PJ turned around to face her once again, doing his best to hide the smile on his face. “Then, what’s your plan? You going to take one of your vespari contracts? Earn a little silver from slaying a monster?”
Wynonna now turned away, walking back down the alley. “Turns out, I’m not a vespari after all.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“They didn’t confirm me. I’m not a real vespari.”
PJ walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. “You feel pretty real to me.”
Wynonna placed her hands over his, smiled, and then stared into the distance, narrowing her eyes to slits. “You know… It’s strange…”
PJ nudged her cheek with his nose. “What is?”
Wynonna blinked a couple times before replying. “That we keep running into each other,” she finished. She pulled
his hands off her and turned around to face him. “It’s a pretty big city. How do I keep running into you?”
He smiled. “I wondered about that too after I stumbled into you last night. I figured it out too.”
“Oh?”
“This,” he said. slowly sliding his hand into Wynonna’s pants pocket and pulling out the bloody silver round she kept within.
The vespari looked at it, frowned, and then snatched it from him. “That’s not what I hoped you were about to do.” Looking at it, she asked, “What does this have to do with anything? It’s just a bloody round,” she lied.
PJ’s smile widened. “I know it’s not.”
Wynonna narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“I may not be a vespari, but I know a bound soul eater when I see one.”
“How do you know about that?”
PJ shrugged. “I guess you could say I have a gift for such things.”
Wynonna suddenly realized what he meant. “You’re an occultist?”
“Mm. I never did like that word. Makes it sound like I chose this.”
The vespari took a step away from him and furrowed her brow.
“Don’t be like that,” he said. “I’m not dangerous. I’m not a cultist. Just an occultist.”
“What’s the difference?” she asked with a bitterness to her words. “Everything I’ve heard about your kind tells me otherwise.”
“You can’t listen to that nonsense. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t worship the writhing ancients. I don’t even want this power.”
Wynonna held up the bloody silver round with Petronila’s soul trapped inside. “Then why did you want this round?”
PJ shook his head. “I don’t want it. I’m just naturally drawn to it, and it keeps leading me back to you. I can’t help it.”
“Why are you drawn to it?”
“I don’t understand how it all works. I just know that there’s power in that silver round, and I could use it if I wanted.”
“To do what?”
He shrugged. “I suppose whatever the soul eater can do.”
“And you don’t want me to think you’re dangerous?”
“Wynonna,” he said, reaching out his hand toward hers. “I would never hurt you. I know we don’t know each other very well, but I like you. I know you’re a good person.”
“I’m not so good,” she replied, staring down at his hand.
He smiled. “Yes, you are.”
The vespari slid the round back in her pocket and took his hand. “You’re lucky you got a trustworthy face,” she told him with a frown.
“Plus all the sexual tension, right?”
“Yes,” she said with a completely straight face. “Plus that.”
PJ rubbed his thumb over the skin of her hand and smiled at her.
“Oh!” Wynonna exclaimed, remembering the silver rectangle she’d found in the naga’s lair. Pulling the thin rectangle from her pocket, she showed it to PJ. “Think this is worth much?”
PJ clutched her wrist and leaned down for a better look. He then cut his eyes up at Wynonna. “Do you have any idea what this is?”
The vespari gave him a blank look. “I do not.”
“This is a silver bullion.”
The blank expression didn’t fade, as she stared at PJ.
He shook his head and smiled. “This thing is crazy valuable. Only the richest of the rich use these things. Most people go their whole lives without seeing one.”
“Oh. So, we could rent a room with it then?”
“Wynonna… you could buy a house with this thing.”
“Oh,” she said with a little smile. “Then, we should definitely get a room. A nice one.”
He smirked along with her. “Followed by the removal of clothes?”
“With teeth,” Wynonna added, raising a single finger. “I cannot stress that enough.”
***
“You’ve got a bit of an appetite,” PJ told her, sitting down in the chair next to her.
Wynonna smiled, as she swallowed the powdered, cherry-filled pastry and washed it down with a glass of red wine. “I gave the hotel the bullion,” she said. “The way it sounds, it could’ve paid for more than just this fancy room. Figure it’d be wasteful not to get some food and a little more to drink.”
“So, you’re just being practical?”
There was something about the way he said it that reminded Wynonna of Corrigan. “Maybe,” she said, wiping the powder from her lips with the sleeve of the hotel’s bathrobe she now wore and then took another big swig of the wine.
“But that wasn’t really what I meant anyway,” PJ continued.
“Then, what do you mean?” she asked before picking up another of the powdered confections the hotel had brought them and shoving it in her mouth.
“Ever since I found you in that bar, you’ve seemed to be trying to fill every moment with something. Anything. Is this all because the vespari didn’t confirm you?”
Wynonna chewed the pastry, not looking up at PJ.
“Or is there something else going on? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I quite enjoy being a part of your distraction. This has been a lot of fun, but you can’t keep this up forever.”
Wynonna shrugged, grabbing another pastry from the tray.
“Come on,” PJ said, putting his hand on her shoulder. Nodding toward the bed, he added, “After what we did over there, I’d imagine some level of intimacy earned between us. Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
A knot seemed to appear inside Wynonna’s throat as she thought about PJ’s words. She swallowed the bite of sugary pastry with some difficulty, but it did nothing to alleviate that imagined growth. She set the rest of the pastry back down on the tray, as the taste seemed to sour in her mouth.
Wiping her face with her sleeve again, she said, “It’s all I had.”
“What are you talking about?” PJ asked.
“Being a vespari. It’s all I had.”
“Okay. Tell me.”
“You know I lived in the desert,” she said.
PJ nodded. “Sure.”
“I had a family. Mother, father, three brothers. Even had a sister in law.”
“Where are they now?”
“They’re… they’re gone.”
“What happened to them?”
“A revenant. He took them from me. I went after him. Tried to kill him. Didn’t work out so well, but that’s when I met Cory.”
“Cory? Who’s that?”
“He was a vespari. He saved me from getting myself killed. He trained me to be like him. Together, we hunted down and killed the revenant. It felt good at the time, but now… I feel so empty.” Tears formed in her eyes, but she wiped them away before they could drop down her cheeks.
“Well, what about this Cory? Where’s he?”
Wynonna shook her head. “I betrayed him. I got him killed. I didn’t mean to… I… I had to make a choice. A fortune teller told me that… It doesn’t matter. I made the wrong choice.”
PJ narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. “I’m sorry you lost him.”
“It was the soul eater’s fault.”
“The one trapped in the round?”
Wynonna nodded. “Speaking of which, I’ve been plagued with nightmares ever since I bound her there. Being around you though, I’m not having them anymore.”
PJ smiled. “I politely told her to stop that.”
“You are handy.”
“Enough about me. You were talking about your master.”
“Mm,” she muttered, not eager to return to that topic. “Well, the soul eater and some beldams hexed him. Only way to stop it was to kill them all. Because I selfishly made the decision to pursue the revenant, we couldn’t kill the soul eater in time. The hex would’ve killed him.”
“Would’ve?”
“I… he asked me to…”
PJ placed his hand over hers.
“Now, he’s gone too,” Wynonna said. “But he left me a mes
sage. He wanted me to come here. He wanted me to receive my confirmation, to carry on his legacy. But now… I’ve got no purpose. All I feel is the same emptiness I felt when I came home and found what the revenant had done to my family.”
“So, it’s not even the confirmation? You just don’t know what to do with yourself?”
Wynonna looked at him. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Well,” PJ began, thinking. “Why did they deny your confirmation?”
“Aside from one of the elders being totally corrupt?”
PJ leaned forward. “One of them is corrupt?”
“Yeah, but I can’t prove it. And, that’s obviously not the reason they gave.”
“What was?”
She shrugged. “They said that Cory committed some crime. That’s why he was in the desert. They banished him out there. No one would tell me what the crime was though.”
“Maybe there’s more than one way to carry on his legacy.”
Sniffing and wiping her nose, she asked, “Like what?”
“I think you should find out what he was accused of. If one of these elders really is corrupt, maybe your master is innocent. You could clear his name.”
“But, what if he did it?”
“You knew him. Do you think he would’ve done anything worthy of banishment?”
Wynonna thought about it. She remembered the story he told her about the vespari killing someone he loved just because they were both men. She thought about how he couldn’t turn down anyone in need no matter how poor a payment they offered. She remembered how quickly he forgave her for betraying him.
“No,” she said, letting a tear fall from her eye and letting it stand. “He was a good man.”
PJ lifted a finger to her cheek and wiped away the tear. “Then prove it. Clear his name. Carry on his legacy. Maybe the elders will even confirm you then. Heck, maybe you can expose their corruption while you’re at it.”
Wynonna laughed. “You make it all sound so easy.”
He shrugged. “Everything’s pretty easy when you get out of your own way. Start with something simple. Before you can do anything to prove his innocence, you have to know what he’s accused of, right?”