Page 112 of Concluded
“What are you doing?”Spurling roared—in his own voice.Achilles wasn’t the least sad to hear the pain and rage and confusion.This was a man who hadn’t envisioned the possibility of losing.
“Power and wealth and hate die when you do,” said Achilles.“Love and generosity survive.”
Spurling shrieked inhumanly and shuddered repeatedly.Something started to peel away from him, and although it was invisible, Achilles could sense it.Could smell its rotten-meat stench.It separated completely from Spurling with a sickeningsplorch, hung for a moment like the ghost of a shadow, and then… ceased to exist.When Spurling screamed again, his throat sounded torn.Blood gushed from his nose, ears, eyes, and mouth, more black than red and foul-smelling.He shuddered one more time, then disintegrated into fine dust that settled on the blacktop and disappeared.
“Achilles?”Dee was clutching him tightly.“What…?”
Before he could finish the question, Keaton exhaled loudly and Owen helped him to sit down.
Santiago spoke.Looks like the party’s over, dude.
“Did we?—”
It’s not a win.It never is.But we tipped the balance.You can feel it, can’t you?
Yes.Achilles could.“Thank you for?—”
All part of the job.And now I’ve earned my retirement, don’t you think?
“Are… are you going to be okay?”
Something’s calling me.Not sure what it is.But… yeah.It feels like a call I want to answer.It feels really good.You two take care now.
And that quickly, Santiago was gone, leaving nothing inside Achilles except a tiny scar—one he was proud to carry.
All around him, people said good-bye to their ibburs.“I’ll join you soon, Harry,” said John.“Just a few more books to read first.”
Charles was smiling.“Peace at last, Birdie?You’ve served well past your time.Thomas and Abe will be glad for the reunion.”He shook his head a little.“Townsend, you old bastard.You’ve earned your rest too.Thank you.”
Achilles relaxed into the warmth of the sunshine and then jolted, suddenly remembering the vampires.Their ibburs had protected them until now, but….Oh.There they were, in the parking lot, looking pleased.Dee’s magic must have truly been long-term.Achilles waved and they waved back.
Somebody had given blankets to Ralph and Edge, who’d resumed attending to the injured, although nobody seemed seriously hurt any longer.Even Cruz was sitting up on his own.Tenrael had his arms around Charles, and Ish had his arms around both of them, the trio looking like a very strange Renaissance-era statue—probably an allegorical one.Kurt and Desmond, Art and Jerry, Isaac and Con, Terry and Dash, and so many others.They were still here.Alive.Heroes.
And Dee was in Achilles’ arms, filthy and beautiful and vibrant.
“Master,” Dee said, grinning.“I wish you’d kiss me.”
Achilles granted his wish.
EPILOGUE
The sound of ocean waves carried to Charles and Tenrael’s front porch from the beach just a few blocks away.Charles could smell the sea salt as well as a hint of coffee and frying bacon from a nearby café.He enjoyed the scent of bacon, even though eating meat made him violently ill.He sat with a slice of cherry pie, a glass of fresh-squeezed lemonade, and the biography of a woman who’d spied for the Union during the Civil War.Tenrael and Ish were inside the house, where Ish had been working his way through Mel Brooks’ movies.The last that Charles had seen, Ish had been laughing throughHistory of the World: Part I.Tenrael, who was a night person, was probably still asleep, and Charles might very well climb back into bed with him after finishing the pie.
Charles had just about everything he’d ever wanted.He was even smiling.
Until a black Jeep parked at the curb in front of his house and he saw who was inside.
Not for the first time in his long life, Charles wished he could tolerate booze.He sighed, set down his dish on the little table beside his rocking chair, and waited for Achilles and Dee to join him on the porch.
They had a dog with them, a scruffy yellowish beast that wagged its tail, sniffed Charles’s leg, and then sprawled contentedly on the weathered boards.
Both men looked good.Achilles had apparently opted to keep the beard, his hair was carefully styled, and he wore a dark suit and white shirt.He resembled one of those handsome real estate agents who put their smiling photo on their For Sale signs.Dee, on the other hand, reminded Charles of a musician who was successful enough to live comfortably but didn’t spend his free time jet-setting or taking drugs.He wore jeans and a plain black tee, and his curly hair had grown long enough to tie into a disorderly ponytail.
“Nice place,” Achilles said by way of greeting.“In this neighborhood, I bet you could get over three million for it.”Now he sounded like a real estate agent too.
Charles suppressed a chuckle.“I bought it for four thousand dollars in 1929.I’m not planning to sell.”
Achilles and Dee nodded, and the three of them fell silent.Charles noticed that they wore matching wedding bands.Sometimes he still marveled at the freedoms gay people enjoyed nowadays, although he was also acutely aware of how fragile those freedoms were and how much progress still needed to be made for all those who remained disempowered.
