Page 96 of Darkness

Either this talking hemorrhoid was the murderer-by-train or an even bigger pile of shit than Morrisey originally thought. Although kidnappers weren’t necessarily killers, or vice versa, they weren’t mutually exclusive either.

“Speaking of, how much do you know about your parents?” The man spoke in such a straightforward manner he could simply be making idle conversation.

If not for the whole kidnapping thing.

Morrisey’s parents? What did they have to do with anything? They’d died years ago, so couldn’t serve as leverage now. They also couldn’t show disappointment at just how badly their son turned out. “Not that I owe you jack shit, but they were good people. They were already in their fifties when they adopted me. They passed away a couple of years back.” They’d doted on him, a bit old-fashioned with rules, but they’d been fair.

Their passing left a hole in Morrisey’s soul.

Asher the Asshole gave an indulgent smile. “I meant your biological parents.”

Not much, except one of them cursed him with big ears, and possibly a love of strong drink. He offered a shrug he hoped passed for, Don't know, don't care. “Nothing. They gave me up for adoption. The Jameses adopted me. End of story. I didn’t care enough to find out more.”

Liar. Not caring and no success aren’t the same things. He recalled Arianna’s warning email about someone digging into his past.

Did Asher look… disappointed? “They weren’t wealthy, but they doted on their only child. When he was at death’s door, I made them an offer. I’d save their son. They could raise him, but he’d be mine. One day I’d come for him. They gratefully accepted, paid the fee I asked, then ran, thinking they could hide you from me.” Asher gave a feral grin. “They couldn’t. Sadly, I sent incompetents to handle the situation. It’s so difficult to find good help, isn’t it? I lost you in the court system in the following chaos.”

Morrisey hadn’t been abandoned by parents who didn’t want him? This asshole killed them. Being dressed only in the boxers he’d slept in didn’t allow places to hide a gun. Oh, if only Agnes was here... "What sort of pervert are you to try to buy a child?” What an asswipe!

Asshole Asher scowled. “Not what you’re thinking, I assure you. Since you knew nothing about your human parents, I suppose you didn’t know your actual parents either.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” It was too damned early to parse out this nonsense without a caffeine fix.

“Oh, right. You only recently suspected you have more in common with your partner than you originally thought. The only way to save the human baby’s life was to bring over an infant traveler. But not just any traveler. Your line has long been known for healing abilities, among many others.”

“You’re saying I’m a traveler?” No way in hell was Morrisey from… well, Hell.

“Yes, I am. Though you come from the bureaucratic class and your parents were Princeps through and through.” Asher paused for effect. “The ruling class. People in Domus would see you as royalty.”

King of jerks, maybe. The asshole had to be lying. “Here I’m just an average working Joe.” And content to be so. “I’m sure they’d be so disappointed.” Morrisey definitely was.

Again, with the indulgent smile Morrisey wanted to smack off the bastard’s face. “No. Once other travelers know of your existence, they will still regard you as elite. Your parents were highly regarded. Those who don’t revere you will fear you. Sometimes there’s more power to be gained through fear than through respect.”

“Were highly regarded?”

Asshole gave a maniacal chuckle worthy of many a late-night movie villain. “Ah, you didn’t think they surrendered their firstborn willingly, did you? Or rather, your highborn parent’s first legitimate spawn.”

Morrisey found thinking about anything extremely difficult right now, trying to throw off the effects of whatever someone had drugged him with while in desperate need of caffeine. If this asshat spoke even a fraction of the truth, Morrisey owed him for the deaths of two sets of parents, apparently. Reality hit. “You’re not Princeps.” He added a bit more smugness than absolutely necessary just to be a jerk.

In fact, Asshole was so not Princeps or even Magestra that Morrisey glimpsed a face superimposed over another, even in the semi-darkness.

Then again, Morrisey’s night vision seemed to improve.

“Yes, and no. My other parent was from the working class, a servant. And as so often happens here in the human realm, a wealthy employer took advantage, leaving my other parent with an illegitimate spawn. the spawn of a Princeps, Domus law forbade mixing between disparate tiers without approval, and they wouldn't have allowed a joining. Their conceiving a spawn at all was highly unusual. My Princeps parent denied my parentage, banishing my lowborn parent and leaving me in the care of cold relatives.”

“Banishing? As in…”

“As in ceased to exist.”

What? Some bastard got some innocent pregnant and had them killed rather than own up to the responsibility? Morrisey didn’t know them but still wanted to land a few well-deserved punches. “We both grew up without our biological parents. Is our alleged shared history supposed to make me feel all warm and fuzzy about you? Are we supposed to bond over our tales of poor me?” Never in a million years.

“No. I’m simply leading up to another thing we have in common.”

“What’s that?” It certainly wasn’t a strong sense of reality.

“A Princeps parent.“

“A parent. I'm not interested in playing word games. Say what you gotta say.” The ice shard plunging into Morrisey’s belly said he already knew.

---