It was better not to open the book here; with so many people, it was a beacon for trouble. We were being hunted down by any god who wished to capture a newly formed Death; it was only fitting to assume those people were waiting for an opportunity to find us. Without knowing what opening his book would do, finding a secluded place would take priority over eating this morning.
Finding that in a rural area should be easy, yet we seemed to attract an audience wherever we went. Back in the car again, I'm trying not to let on that I'm disappointed in the lack of breakfast. I was looking forward to the meal, though I attempted to remind myself that we'd gone days without eating before on our military ventures. My nausea would be displeased with the idea of more car travel on a relatively empty stomach.
Verando murmurs on his phone, his voice tight as he tells Tomas we will move to a different location for the exchange. Anubis's warning could no longer go on deaf ears, and I wasn't willing to go home until I'd helped him all I could. That would mean appeasing me, and it seemed that Tomas understood my husband was at my mercy when it came to his departure.
I couldn't help but appreciate that about him.
"Where are we going?" I finally attempt when he hangs up, sensing the mounting anxiety, yet I've never felt so disconnected from him. There was no heat, no inferno raging under the surface, and his heart no longer galloped for my ears to hear; it was almost disturbing how still he was.
Our lives were no longer threaded together; it was an odd sensation, almost like they'd taken a limb rather than separated two complete beings.
"A nightclub, unfortunately. It should be quiet mid-day; Tucci told me about a few clubs that a friend of his owns. Higher-ups rent out rooms here for entertainment, but there's also a service that provides food and meeting spaces so that you can eat while I attempt to sort through this-" Gritting his teeth, I see the disdain for our situation.
The steering wheel shivers under his hand, and the car jerks, threatening to stall.
"For the love- what now?" Verando snaps; I quickly grab his wrist and yank it away from the steering wheel, gauging the response of his skin under my hand. I could feel the veil of magic, yet it wasn't attempting to latch on to me or take from my presence.
Was that because I was an exception? Or because he had to have intention behind what he was doing?
The death of Eve proved that false; he could kill things accidentally. So why not me?
Meanwhile, the lapse in control caused the car a small amount of panic, as it swerved from side to side before he caught the wheel with his knee. Once steady, the jerking of the engine stopped.
Verando smacks my hand away instinctively, only to look apologetic and then horrified by his reaction. I noticed the red rash from where he'd touched me, but only where his hand had grazed, not where my palm had landed. Examining it, I twist my hand curiously, healing faster than I could imagine the mark in its original state.
"Damn it-" Swerving across traffic, we pull over in a small parking lot, and he gets out of the car abruptly, slamming the door hard enough that the entirety of the vehicle trembles. I wonder if the door would ever work the same again, and yet I'm out of the car faster than I can think. While I was sure he wouldn't try and run, the 'rules' of this ability were inconsistent so far.
What if his feet on the ground caused the entire neighborhood to die? What if he vanished without meaning to?
"Randy-"
"Nic, please just stay over there." His voice is stern, and his body fights to react as it is accustomed. But how could fire burn when it was shielded in ice? I can't help but sigh in relief, my wolf responds to the call of his own. Alpha was still in there, and for that, I was grateful. "I'm.. not in control."
While I scan our surroundings, I see a man hurrying along on foot, definitely suspecting my husband of foul play with the quickness of his steps. Being Death, I imagine a human would have an instinct to avoid him. Ignoring the gray-haired man's warning, I approach him with a harsh glare to remain still.
Using my palm to hover over his skin as carefully as I could, given I was scanning a moving target. Verando holds his breath, still, as if that would somehow protect me. I know he's suffering with my silence, but I wasn't willing to speak on the subject just yet.
Flicking my gaze up, I return his panic with patience. "You take everything so literally; I want to know for certain before I tell you anything. This is magic; nothing's absolute, so there will be a lot of speculation."
Despite his displeasure, this seems to still him some, allowing me to get a better feel of him even if my hand never actually touched him. I'm all too aware of how he's staring at me, like I've lost my mind, disappointed in my inability to protect our child, and yet admiration at the head of it all for how much I could sacrifice for my love for him.
I'm confident that his expectation and hope was that I would turn him away. Send him out with Rowan until he somehow, gains control.
"How can you possibly be so calm after all of this? I killed Eve-"
Considering this, I hesitate my hand over the void where his heart used to be. "I'm used to your emotional whiplash. This is nothing new." I attempt, keeping my voice light.
"You know that's not what I meant." He retorts shortly, using the back of his forearm to press my hand away from him. "What are you doing? I'm losing my mind, Nic; I need you to talk to me."
With a calming sigh, I shrug lightly, ensuring my face is as neutral as possible. "You would have killed me by now if you were going to. In some ways, you can control this; in others, it comes out however it wants."
Now, to discover those triggers and find their origins. What caused a reaction and what created the ability were two different measures. "You forget I went to a magical academy. Overcharged beings with deadly magic were a typical weeknight for me. Since I am one.. and I've had my book to contend with, this is- hmm, how would it go? A slice of cake?"
Smiling at him, I hope he picks up that I'm simply attempting to jest with him.
Verando falls silent as I remove my hand and gaze at my palm. No rash, no redness; it seemed he could gain control quickly if he felt strongly enough about it. "Piece of cake, I believe the saying is, love."
Regardless of the Americanized phrase, I felt confident I could at least predict the trend. "This is a simple bleedover. It's your ability manifesting based on your emotions. You either need to let it out or burn it out; in other words, use or find a way to calm down. You almost fried your car; we can't just avoid this. Unless you'd like to send your car to purgatory?"
My words cut him when that was hardly my intention; with every suggestion, he seemed to want to recede further away from me. He was putting me in danger; he couldn't even get us away safely. I touch his arm, breaking him out of his plummet to the depths of his mind. "If I could do this.. if Eve wasn't just a fluke.. "
I place my hand on his arm, waiting for those worried crystal eyes to meet mine. "We're not going to let it get to that. You're so much more capable than you think, Randy. You've been controlling a deadly power for as long as I've known you; this should at least be less complicated. Now. Come on," I tell him quietly, gesturing to the hardware store a few buildings down the sidewalk. "I think I've got an idea to help you control this while you're still learning. "
Reaching into his front pocket, I take the keys and lock the car before getting behind him to fish his wallet out of the rear compartments on his pants. It's a quick walk, yet my stomach threatens to vacate, and I feel the cramping hitting my lower back and hips.
How was it that my entire being was sore and achy?
"What on earth would we possibly need in there?" Verando demands, reluctantly following me. I struggle with the temperament, given my current state of hunger and poor tolerance to movement. Concerned about my pale complexion, I pull him back out of the brink. Before anything else, he worried about me, yet he teetered on the edge of hysteria with his lack of control over his own body.
The pressure was mounting, and with the escape of Fenrir fueled by his coalition with Alpha, I was confident that he was about to reach his limit. Verando was stuck between two hard places in his personality: his desire to never show me how badly something affected him, and his obsession with keeping me safe.
He brushes my cheek with the back of his fingers. "Are you alright? Nic, at least let's feed you first."
I wasn't sure, but I had a hunch that this might just work. "You're going to feed me at the end of all this, I promise you."
Entering the store, the wholesome jingle of the bell reminds me of how little we shopped together. Overwhelmed by the scent of various cleaners, metals, and rubber, I wrinkle my nose and try not to gag at the assault on my sessions. Despite his contemplation on removing us from the store, I drag him along with me anyway.
"Be patient. I'm thinking. This will only take a moment, and I think it'll be worth your peace of mind." I tell him, only to find he's also struggling with the scent. I could imagine the aisle ways stressed him, their tight spaces, it would be hard to predict an assault in here.
Never did we go to stores like this, of course, I had gone on multiple occasions, but for himself, he ordered most things or sent someone else in his place. Judging by his discomfort, I imagined this was why.
At least this part hadn't changed. The wolf was still in there, even if he was no longer warm. I had to keep reminding myself that I hadn't lost Alpha in all this; he was the same person, just.. different.
"Ah. Poison, is it? Is that your grand plan?" Verando suggests, fidgeting with the karambit in his pocket. The dark humor is lost on me, I'm not much in the mood for his musings. Much as I would prefer him not to toy with the weapon of choice for death, it seemed to bring him some sort of peace. I glance up at the lights, noting that they don't flicker at only his presence.
"Ha. Ha." I retort sarcastically, pulling him with me down the various isles.
Catching our reflection in one of the overhead mirrors hanging in the aisles, I note how out of place we look surrounded by household goods and the occasional mortal. It effectively takes some of the wind out of my sails; how could we expect our children to live any semblance of everyday life? Two beings pulled out of time; we hardly belonged in this place.
Darrius was a unicorn, and Xavier would surely be a lycan. This baby would be an unknown. A normal life, as we knew it, was a level of freedom that meant our child would never suffer as we did. But that word had a different meaning to mortal children, who were given these privileges.
Reminded of the school, I made a mental note to check how that was going.
"I'm sorry; I shouldn't have been so harsh." Verando manages, attempting to smooth over a situation I wasn't bothered by.
It was more so the underlying issues that worried me. Magic I could handle; it was mortals that gave me pause. I struggled with imposter syndrome; what if I was the wrong father for this baby? My emotional state was giving me worse whiplash than his inability to regulate.
My lack of an answer seems to frustrate him, quickly, I clear my throat and lead him down the next aisle. "No, no, it's not that. I'm lost in thought, I suppose. This isn't our typical outing. I'm just feeling out of place-"
Flicking my eyes up, he catches me, watching the mirror, before smirking. I'm confused until I realize he's chuckling at our height difference. Where I was wondering why we had to look so different from everyone else, Verando saw much more black-and-white aspects when it came to such things.
I worried about the political and social climate. He seemed more amused by the portrayal of just how short I was. I could hardly look at the fifth shelf square, of which there were six. Verando, on the other hand, was easily tall enough to meander however he wished.
"Aww, Nic. Are we here to get you a step stool?" He muses; I take great pleasure in imagining the sort of violence I could inflict on him. "If you needed help, you could have just asked."
Bewildered by his ability to misjudge a situation, I gape at his audacity before crossing my arms firmly over my chest. "You can be such an ass sometimes." I snap, storming down the aisle with my unapologetic warlord in tow. "That is not at all why we are here; I'm trying to help you, though it seems your spirits have improved without my aid. Perhaps I'll leave you to figure this out on your own."
My words seem to ground him; he purses his lips, attempting to hide his amusement as I find the 'clothing' section. He was standing behind me, almost like he was standing guard, yet his jaw was tight. Verando wasn't guarding me so much as trying to decide what battle tactic would be best suited to handle me.
Foolish, really, I knew all of his strategies.
If I allowed myself to sympathize with him, I could see beyond the anger that he was trying. I'd asked him for patience, to humor me, and this was his attempt to do that. I try not to lean against him to soothe my boiling body. Much as I was infuriated by him, our time together was fleeting.
I quickly turn to grab a pair of gloves and shove them at him. "Try these on." I wave at him, disgruntled, only to narrow my eyes at his distrust of the leather.
"I'd say not." He offers them back, dangling them by one stiff finger of their rough digits. "It's not even a complementary color.."
It made sense; many mages with hard-to-control abilities used gloves to put a layer up. It was a small buffer, something he might appreciate the grace of.
"If Silvia's ice Queen can wear gloves. So can you." I tell him, handing over a different, smoother pair. Verando shows me they are easily two sizes too small before tossing them back unceremoniously. "You sure are acting like a Queen right now. Why is it now that you choose to access your feminine side? Actually, that's an insult to women; you're just being a bitch about this whole thing."
"I'm struggling to see how carpentry gloves will help our cause. Do you truly think some leather will stop whatever is wrong with me? I think you're being outrageous, if not frustratingly optimistic."
"Well, someone has to be." I snap, shoving a different pair at him. A woman appears, wide-eyed at our conversation. I pinch the bridge of my nose, wishing she'd go away. "I'm sorry, it's been a long day; we're not trying to cause a scene," I told her shortly.
Glancing back and forth between the two of us, she holds up a different pair of gloves, and I note she has a name tag on. "My husband hates those gloves, too. His fingers are too long; the palm never fits right. It looks downright silly, but he likes these here drivin' gloves the best. They ain't much for yard work, but they work plenty fine for other things." Offering to them to my warlord, he seems uncertain before snagging them.
Distancing himself from the two of us, he slips one on, opening and closing his hand while examining the texture. They were black, simple, thin, and buckled across the back of his palm.
"Might even try golf gloves, depending on what you're tryin' to accomplish." She tells me, shrugging and offering a small smile. "I wasn't tryin' to pry; y'all just looked like you could use some help. My husband and I don't come here together; we're best off lettin' him go with his friends. I'm never right when it comes to this stuff." She chuckles, teasing in a sense. I could sense the sarcasm, though it's lost on me that people might live their lives that way.
Verando removes the gloves, handing them to me, "That'll work fine. Let's go, Nic." Departing, I know he's leaving the store, and I sigh as I move to check out, the woman following beside me.
"It's hard to be wrong." She giggles, shaking her head as she scans my item, and I hand over the card.
I almost want to defend him, that this was a hard time for both of us, but I offer a half-hearted laugh instead. "It's been a long day." I allow, "We're both exhausted. Thank you so much for your help; we probably would have just left if you hadn't come along. It was just a hunch; I didn't even realize there were different kinds."
"It's what I'm here for. I'm happy to help. Y'all have a good rest of your day. Give that man a meal; it'll make it all better, I'm sure."
I departed the store to find him smoking far from the entrance. Cursing when he sees me, he moves to toss the cigarette, and I shake my head; it wasn't worth the fight. "It's fine.. just don't do it in the car." I allow, "Why not? I mean, you're already dead... Does it even matter?" Feeling defeated, I sit on the bench in front of the store and bury my face in my hands as I rest my elbows on my knees.
"It does matter. You asked me not to do it; I am trying to quit." Verando exhales, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't mean to pick on you, darling; I know you're trying to help, and it is a good idea. I can't see past my own-" Waving his hand, he exhales at himself, taking another drag. I notice the tremble in his body, fighting against whatever inside of him was trying to crawl to the surface.
Be it the wolf or the call to do his job.
"Is it loud for you? Around all the humans?" I question, peaking up at him, noting that I'd caught him off guard.
Reluctantly, he nods. "It's... not even that. That woman that gave you the gloves." Finishing his cigarette, he flicks the butt on the ground, crushing it out. "She's going to die today. I can feel it."
"You're going to have to reap her?" I conclude.
After a long pause, he nods once more. "Is this how it's going to work? Am I going just to meet people and want to kill them? How do I even know-" Cursing, he shakes his head at himself, and I stand to approach him, warning him with my eyes before collecting his face in my hands. Stretching up on my toes, I pull him down to kiss me.
"We're going to read your book and figure this out. Please don't lose it yet. Anubis made it very clear that everything we needed to know was in that book. Also, I know your particular desire to be an absolute jerk is a coping mechanism; you can repay me by feeding me and humoring me." Taking the gloves out of the bag, I hand them over.
"Even if it's not a real barrier, if you commit to yourself that it is, it will become law for your ability. Your ability is yours, even if it's been forced upon you. Just as you control Fenrir with the necklace, the tattoos.. the piercings.." I offer a slight smirk, making him roll his eyes. "This can be another thing that helps to ground you."