Page 78 of King Among the Dead

“No, he…” Her chest ached. She tried to take a deep breath, and couldn’t. “He didn’t…he wouldn’t…he would never leave me. He…”

His expression softened – it blurred. She blinked, but it was no use. “Look, kid, I feel bad about it, but he’s not coming back. There’s no sense us getting killed by waiting around.”

“But…Beck…”

Beck was gone.

Beck was in hell.

She couldn’t re-open a portal.

Beck was gone…

Her next breath was a sob. The tears broke free, hot and ugly down her face.

Beck wasgone.

“Come on.” Du Lac shifted and put an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go.”

Beck was gone, and nothing else on earth mattered. So she let him lead her away. Retreated back inside her mind, and nothing made much sense after that.

~*~

The next few hours were a blur. Like bobbing along underwater.

She was aware of walking a long way down a dark hall. Of being ushered into the passenger seat of a car. She thought there was a blanket – she pressed something to her eyes while she choked, and sobbed, and spluttered. She didn’t want to fall apart, but she had no say in it. Was nearly ill from crying, her chest jagged with pain; she felt split open, and hollowed out.

Rain struck the windshield. Du Lac talked to someone over his phone. Then she was being ushered into a too-bright, sterile building that overlooked a dense and layered part of the city, one that smelled strongly of lemon cleaner and coffee.

When she’d dried her eyes – someone had given her a tissue – and glanced up, she found herself in a conference room, three people murmuring to one another at the end of the table. One was du Lac. Another was a man with a bulldog face, and the other was a woman with short hair and sharp eyes.

All of them turned to Rose as one. She imagined du Lac’s expression to be encouraging.

“Rose Greer?” the woman asked.

“How do you know my name?”

“We have resources,” she said, coolly. “Can you tell us what happened tonight?”

She blinked, eyes gummy and dehydrated.

Beck’s gone, she thought.My Arthur Augustus. I was his Rosie, and he’s gone. That was all that mattered.

~*~

She could tell they didn’t know what to do with her. Someone had produced Miss Tabitha’s forged paperwork, and then produced her original paperwork. She was a legal adult. Du Lac vouched for her, and kept her from being taken into custody. She didn’t explain the knives she wore, and no one asked, nor took them from her.

She stood at a window in the small break room where they’d installed her, untouched paper cup of tea in her hand. Her breath slowly fogged the glass, but she could still see the mayhem unfolding; more cars than normal, pedestrians hurrying, hiding under awnings.

She heard someone come into the room behind her. Du Lac said, “We’re getting the first reports in from a fishing vessel in the Atlantic: the Rift is opening again.”

Just a few days ago, she would have gasped. Would have looked at Beck and said, “What do we do?” Now, she didn’t respond. She was so, so empty.

“According to the local authorities, there’s already been calls about people acting strangely. Fires.” He moved to stand beside her, resting his fingertips against the glass. “Heaven and hell on earth,” he murmured. “Things are going to get – bad.”

Things had never been good. She’d had one bright sliver of time – but that was over.

“Rose.” He turned toward her, she could tell. “I want to help you. It won’t be safe here in the city alone. There are secure locations. You’re good with a knife.” A weak chuckle. “We’ll be recruiting soon, I’m sure, if you want to join up. It’s not pretty work, but there’s food, and it’s…it’s somewhere to belong.”

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