Killing (And Other Games)

(Nineteen)

(Nineteen)

Charlie doesn't know whether to get away from me or stay and gawk some more at Gray. Outside the store, after buying my knife and having it wrapped in a brown paper bag, I stand and wait to see what's going to happen next. Gray just watches me expectantly.

"So..." Charlie starts, glancing over at Gray oh-so subtly.

"I have a list of people Zane wanted me to talk to so I think I'll stay down here. You can go...if you want."

Charlie's altered face is painted with disdain. "Don't you think you've been down here enough for one day?"

"I haven't even started doing anything," I hiss.

"Maybe that's for the better," Charlie mutters, just loud enough for me to hear. I clench my fists, prepared to yell, when Gray steps in.

"Charlie, was it? Charlie Allbright Smith?" Charlie's red eyes are like a deer's. "You used to fight, didn't you? I saw you once, I must've been...two? Three maybe. You were the only one I was allowed to watch because you were the only light creature fighting. I thought it was the coolest thing I'd ever seen."

"Thank you," Charlie stammers, standing tall and proud. With Gray's compliment he seems a lot more confident and able; I'm surprised Gray didn't want to bathe in the insecurity and awe of his loyal subject. "I'm sorry about all of this; we're going to go now." He grabs my upper arm, yanking me hard to start walking.

Gray gives Charlie an icy look. "Immy has a lot to do; I think she could use standing down here a bit longer. You go and I'll look after her."

"No, I couldn't-"

"You can." It's not exactly a threat but it's definitely an order. Gray doesn't look like a prince and he's not treating anyone like he's above them but the underlying tone in his words is one of power and status. Basically he's telling Charlie to get the fuck out before he makes him.

Charlie takes the cue but not without giving me the filthiest look he can muster. Slinking away, he watches me out of the corner of his eye and mutters something that, I assume, is nasty. Gray is blissfully ignorant as Charlie disappears into the crowd.

"Who are we seeing first?" Gray asks, beaming. He's way too happy about this.

"I have a few names," I tell, pulling a folded piece of paper out of my pocket. Zane's handwriting is an old fashioned scrawl; almost too small and curly to read. "Zane wants me to go talk to the security guard who was on that night. Ewald Jones Strike?"

Gray contemplates this for a second then sighs. "A half-orc. Brilliant."

"How do you know what he is?"

"By the name," Gray explains. "Everyone has two last names; the first one is a family name and the second one is a species name."

"What's yours?"

Gray grins lopsidedly, rolling his eyes. "Godstone Light."

I stifle a laugh. It's not hard to imagine all the ways he could've been bullied over those last names if he were a human. "Zane said he's working right now so we should head over." Gray gets the message, clearly I have no idea how to navigate around this world, and leads me in the direction of the stadium. I watch him in my peripheral vision, trying to work out what his real motivation is.

"So where are you from?" I ask, trying to start some sort of normal conversation. People are literally stopping and staring and pointing as we walk through the plaza. It's like I'm with a world famous actor.

"Here."

"No, your accent. Where in America?"

Gray shoves his hands in his pockets, keeping his head down slightly. "I got sent to Boston for a few years. There's a big Underworld there."