Demons of Divinity by Luke R. Mitchell

Author:Luke R. Mitchell [Mitchell, Luke R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-13T16:00:00+00:00

23

Gallows

“There he is,” Johnny said from my bedside when I awoke the next morning. “The talk of Haven.”

I groaned, groggily fumbling for the memory of where I was and what was happening.

“Is he the Demon of Divinity?” Johnny continued. “Or could he be the Savior of Humility?”

“Don’t rule out the murderer of wise-ass gingers, either,” I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and laboring to sit up with aching muscles, which, while still plenty stiff, already felt considerably better than they had yesterday. Thank Alpha for nanites.

We were alone in the medica room, Edwards and my resident medic either waiting outside or having finally been cleared to leave me alone like a normal patient—or like one under normal room arrest by the fireteam outside, at least.

“And since when are you in a good mood?” I added, turning back to Johnny.

He shrugged, his cheery demeanor flickering for a second. It was a small glitch, but plain enough to one well-versed in Johnny-isms. “I dunno, man. Maybe I feel bad for you, what with all the headlines and the things people are saying.”

“What things?”

Johnny scrunched his face up, as if wondering where to begin.

“Where’s Elise, Johnny?”

His face fell, taking my stomach along with it.

“Why didn’t she…? Why didn’t either of you…”

“There was a lot to be done yesterday,” he said, looking everywhere in the room but my eyes. “Still is. Glenbark’s got me on three separate projects, and Therese and the other Vantage rescues are getting up and running to start tracking those facilities and everything.”

“Johnny.”

“Glenbark even agreed to bring Franco and his people onto the team since they’re… yeah,” he continued, as if he hadn’t heard me. “And then there’s the case of Codename Siren, and everything else, and by the time we had a chance to breathe yesterday it was… Well, we figured you needed to sleep, and—”

“Johnny. What’s going on?”

For a long moment, he teetered on the edge. Then he let out a heavy sigh and finally met my eyes. “She’s not happy, Hal. Neither of us are.”

“What did she—”

He held up a hand to stop me. “Broto, you know I’ll always be here for you.” He cocked his head. “You know, provided you stop trying to go die without me and everything. But you two need to talk. Like, really talk. To each other. You don’t want the wise-ass ginger playing messenger between you.”

He made a fair point. Enough so that I agreed and asked him to go find a medic to discharge me. They weren’t in any hurry to abide, but agreed to at least talk about it after I ate a solid breakfast. So, I settled for shoveling down fabbed something or another while Johnny briefed me on some of what I’d missed yesterday. The latest damage report from the hybrids’ last round of attacks didn’t exactly stimulate my appetite, but I forced the food down anyway, needing to get out of the medica.

“So what’s up with Codename Siren?” I asked when Johnny reached the news—or lack thereof—about my mysterious telepathic attacker.

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