Dark Days

CHAPTER 17

Jack jerked upright like he’d taken a cattle prod to the balls. “Shit!” he gasped, before he saw he was alone except for a morbidly obese pigeon pecking at a crisp wrapper and an old woman in the flat across the street, watching him through a gap in her curtains.

He gave the woman a weak wave, and she waved back. The pigeon flew away, and Jack stood up, feeling all the odd bits of him that he’d broken over the years protest. He picked up his kit and climbed back down the fire escape. Small white fireworks exploded in his vision every time he moved wrong. His head was a minefield after the onslaught of sight, and he’d wrenched something in his shoulder when he’d taken a tumble.

Pete looked up from her laptop when he climbed through the window, eyebrow rising. “You all right?” she asked.

He slumped on the sofa, throwing his bag down, and closing his eyes. He wanted to buck up, not burden her with anything more, but he couldn’t. He was drained. The well was dry.

He was the man who couldn’t kill Legion when he had the chance.

“Not remotely,” he said.

A moment later, Pete’s weight sank the couch cushion next to him. She smelled like lavender perfume, baby powder, a tinge of wood smoke, the scent of magic. A tumbler pressed into his hands, and Jack tossed back the whiskey in a single gulp.

“It’ll be all right,” Pete said softly.

Jack opened his eyes, looking into Pete’s gaze. She had green eyes, deep and dark like a pool long left undisturbed. She was beautiful, and he was going to get her killed. He was going to get all of them killed. Legion was going to steal Lily, and Pete was going to be dead.

“Not this time, luv,” he said, setting the tumbler down with a clunk.

“Oh, fuck off, Jack,” she said. The snap in her voice made him look up. Pete didn’t look concerned any longer. She was glaring at him. “I know how bad this is,” she said. “I know exactly what it means if you can’t find Legion, or whoever he is, and stop him before he tries to rip a hole in Hell. I know that you saw me die, and if you think I haven’t lain awake just as long as you have most nights then you’re either stupid or fucking over-the-moon selfish. And yet, somehow, I trust it will be all right. You know why?”

“Why?” Jack said. He felt the warm burn of shame that came from being a man with his head firmly inserted into his own arse.

“Because I trust you,” Pete said. “And I trust myself. And I know that while we’re together, trying to keep things safe for our daughter, that no power on this earth or any other can stop us.” She put her hands gently on either side of Jack’s face, one thumb running down the scar on his cheek.

“You think you don’t deserve trust or anything else from me,” Pete said. “But that’s shite. You’re the only one who can stop this, Jack. We’re the only ones who can stand up and say no, the world will keep spinning through this day, and all the days to come. It’s a burden, and probably one we don’t deserve, but we must do it, and I know we will.” She pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Together.”

Jack grabbed her, needing to feel her warmth, her heartbeat, and pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her body, which was so small it still fit neatly into his arms, as if they’d been meant to stand side by side from the very start. “You’re a bloody amazing woman,” he said into Pete’s hair, “and I don’t deserve you.”

“No, you don’t,” Pete agreed. She straightened up and looked at him. “But I’m here, and I’m kicking you in the arse. Do what you have to do, Jack, to keep the world turning, and I’ll always be here when you need me. Right?”

“Right,” Jack said. He picked up the tumbler and went into the kitchen, pouring another generous mouthful of whiskey. He didn’t have much, but he’d seen Legion’s face. He knew for sure what the demon intended to do, even if he didn’t believe Legion had orchestrated things to the degree he claimed. And there was someone else from the visions afflicting him who would have some answers.

“I’ll be back,” he told Pete when he’d fortified himself against both his headache and the sinking feeling in his stomach that told him they were all fucked. “I’m going to see a man about the apocalypse.”