“I came to talk with you about family business, and this guy was on the steps.”
“Someone got through our shields like they were nothing,” Marshall said. He was perfectly coiffed and looked nothing like he did the night before. His face, however, was the picture of irritation. “We wouldn’t have known if Sterling hadn’t told us.”
“Harper had a set of my armor. The person who killed him probably took it and used it to slip past any magical security you have.”
“That would probably do it. Samantha, you need to look into that. Talk to your companion and see if there’s anything she can do about it.” Marshall’s expression had evened out and he was all business.
Jack stepped forward and held out a piece of paper to Fourteen. “There was a note.”
Of course there was. Even though Fourteen got the message loud and clear, the Colonel would still have left a note. It was his style to be as much of a bastard as humanly possible.
Even though he knew it was going to piss him off, Fourteen opened it and read the brief contents.
Thanks for the gift. See you soon.
~ The Colonel
Fourteen’s face was impassive, but inside he was boiling.
Yes. Fourteen would definitely be seeing that fucker soon.
“Who’s your dead friend?” Jack asked.
“I don’t have friends. He was a coworker.”
“Elaborate,” Marshall said. Fourteen still didn’t like the man, but at least he knew how to get to the point.
“My old boss killed this guy for helping me, and now he has a set of armor like mine. He probably wants me back.”
“Wonderful. I’ve been wanting to meet the charming people you used to work for.” Jack had a bloodthirsty smile.
Cym moved over to Fourteen and wrapped himself around Fourteen’s arm, twining their fingers together so their skin was touching. “He can’t fucking have you.”
Emotion flooded Fourteen, but it wasn’t what he wanted, so he gave Cym’s hand a squeeze and moved away enough to become what he needed to be.
Marshall’s voice was cold as ice when he said, “I’d like to meet him too.”
“Uhh…would someone like to tell me what the hell is going on here?” Sterling’s voice cut in.
“No,” Fourteen said automatically and held out an arm to bar Cym from going to his brother in case he tried.
Sterling didn’t give off bad guy vibes, but Fourteen still didn’t like him. Fourteen didn’t give a shit whether he’d been a child or not while Cym had been locked up. He was still an accomplice and not to be trusted.
Plus, he seemed basically useless, so there was no point in keeping him around to distract Cym from paying attention to Fourteen.
“What Fourteen means is that it’s overly complicated, and I’ll explain it to you later.” Cym put a hand on Fourteen’s arm and pushed down, trying to get him to lower it. The pressure was nothing to Fourteen, and he could have held out against it for hours without any strain. When his arm didn’t budge, Cym made a noise of exasperation. “I don’t need you to protect me from my brother.”
Fourteen kept his arm where it was.
Cym glared at him and said, “Fine. What are you doing here, Sterling?” He went on his toes so he could see over Fourteen’s arm.
“I came to bring you home. Without that asshole, if possible. You don't need him anymore.”
“Yeah, no. That won’t be happening.” Cym clamped himself onto Fourteen’s side, and their unspoken no-intimacy in front of strangers plan went right out the window.
It was a stupid idea, looking back. Fourteen was pretty certain that it was an important part of self-actualization to be able to recognize bad ideas when they happened and discard them at will. Now that he thought about it, if Cym wanted to cling to him, it was okay by him. In fact, if Cym wanted to climb inside Fourteen’s clothes, as long as he could keep his hands free to fight, he would comply.
Cym hung on tightly as he continued to speak, and Fourteen dropped his arm to wrap it around him. “I can't go back with you. That’s not my home anymore.”
“You’re damn right it’s not,” Fourteen growled.
“Don’t be an idiot, Cym. The Stillbringer can’t run around with a norm. If you come back to the Blaike estate, we have the resources to help you. The family wants you to come back, and they sent me here to bring you home. Don’t you see? It’s all over. The family is safe again. You can come back and forget this bullshit with Hester ever happened.”
“Forget?” Cym pulled away from Fourteen, and Fourteen reeled him back in for safekeeping. “You want me to forget being abandoned to rot by my family? So that they can use me and trot me around as their fancy new showpiece? I don’t even know what the Stillbringer is supposed to do, and you think I can trust the family not to take advantage of that? After what they let happen to me?”
“Cym…” Sterling went from being righteously indignant to being a lost kid in an instant. “I just want things to be like they were. I want to make things better.”
“You can’t. Even if it were possible to give me back my childhood, it’s not your job to fix this. If you really want to help, don’t let a bunch of old, crusty assholes put words into your mouth to try and trick me into coming back. Learn to think for yourself, and don’t let them use you.”
Sterling was left gaping at Cym like the dumbass Fourteen had taken him for.
“Well fucking said, Cym!” Jack held up a massive hand for a high-five. Cym gave Fourteen a glance before holding up his hand and smacking it gently. “We’re gonna need to work on that upper body strength of yours, though. You won’t be able to fight for shit the way you are now.”
Fourteen stared Jack down as he said, “He’s fine the way he is.” Cym didn’t need to be able to fight. He had Fourteen for that now.
Cym didn’t seem to have an opinion on the matter, because he turned to Marshall and asked, “What is the Stillbringer supposed to do, anyway? I get that I’m a conduit to infinite power, but what does that mean?”
Marshall, who’d been leaning quietly against a wall and watching the drama unfold, perked up. It was a bit like seeing a teacher who’d been watching his students exercise the rudimentary skills he’d taught them realize it was time for him to step in.
