Beyond the Veil

Chapter 17

“What was that all about? Why’d you walk out?” We had just left Cole’s shop, much to Al’s happiness.

And much to my sorrow.

The demon lord had an eerie way of understanding what my life had and has been like through the years and it made me feel…included. Like I wasn’t some weirdo who everyone points at and pities. Cole pointed out what was wrong and didn’t pity me, didn’t patronize me; he made me feel like he understood.

“Lacy? Are you still not talking to me? Listen I said I was sorry, just tell me what happened.” He kept his eyes on the road, but from where I sat in the passenger seat I could see his knuckles turn white as he clenched the steering wheel.

Talk to him, so he’ll leave you alone, “There’s nothing to tell. Cole and I had a grown up conversation, when you came out like a bull in a china shop and wrecked everything.”

He at least had the good sense to look ashamed. Cole and I had been talking, a serious talk about a blunder Al made, and Al came out of the back room bellowing. He had grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the shop before I even had time to say good bye.

“I’m sorry Lacy; I just don’t like that guy.”

I bristled at his tone, was he telling me I couldn’t see him just because he, the great Al, didn’t like him? “Well I do, why do you care if I talk to him?”

“I don’t.”

Yeah right, why don’t I believe you? I wanted to say these words, but decided it wasn’t worth the energy to argue, he wouldn’t listen to what I said anyway, he would just do as he pleased. So I remained silent, regardless of the attempts at conversation he provided me with I ignored him, stubbornly holding on to the silence that eventually enveloped the entire car.

We stayed like this until he finally pulled into the drive way to his home; he switched the ignition off and fell back into the seat with a crackle of leather. “Lacy? I know I messed up big today. I know, I hate to walk on glass and say it, again, but I will. I’m sorry. You’re right, if you like the guy I shouldn’t interfere just because I don’t.” he glanced over at me, “Am I forgiven?”

I pursed my lips to keep them from smiling; he looked like a kid who had just got caught with an empty cookie jar and crumbs all over his face. What kind of monster could say no to that? “You’re forgiven.”

His face lit up in a brilliant smile, “Good, because I’d hate to work with someone who hated me.”

“Work with you?” I asked, getting out of the car.

“Of course.”

He opened the door and ushered me inside. Once in he hung his coat on the rack and reached for the telephone, I smacked his hand.

“You are not ordering anymore of that garbage are you?”

He massaged the back of his hand, “Chinese is okay!”

I frowned, and put my hands on my hips, a suspicion forming, “You can’t cook can you?”

“Of course I can!” He mirrored my stance and put his hands on his hips, “I can cook grilled cheese!”

“And?” I prompted.

He frowned, “And what?”

“What else can you cook?”

Alphonse muttered under his breath in the living room. Meanwhile I watched the ham spit and crackle in the skillet. He hadn’t had much in the fridge so I had to improvise, a few slices of fried ham, green beans, and a baked potato should fill him up.

Then again, I eyed his over-six-foot-five form,maybe it’ll only fill him up to his knees.

The grease popped, I let out with a yelp when it scalded my exposed skin.

“I told you I could just eat take-out.”

Ignoring the mad need to throw something at the back of his head I flipped the ham. We had talked a little after I had convinced him that while I was here I would cook.

Maybe I should make up a few more baked potatoes. We have a lot to do tomorrow. And boy-howdy did we. We were going to visit the necromancer who had started all this nonsense, a friendlyvisit as Al had put it. A funny feeling told me it wasn’t going to be a simple little visit either, there was probably going to be a lot of bloodshed.

I watched the ham slowly brown to a perfect color before sliding the slices onto the waiting plate, thinking. A necromancer used to be one of the old scientists that raised the dead through magic. That magic has long since died, how did they replaced it with chemicals? How did they learn to do that, who taught them?

Necromancy was a taboo art even back when it was popular, to raise the dead was no easy task and only those with a substantial amount of power could do it.

I glanced over at Al to call him in, he wasn’t there. “Looks good.” He picked up the loaded plate and ambled over to the table, ignorant of the fright he had just given me.

My heart still pounding I slid into the seat opposite him, and watched him eat. Where does it all go? I know he’s a big guy but that’s a lot of food to disappear that fast.

I rested my head on my heads, how would we do this tomorrow? Al was still fairly new to the paranormal world; he’d only known me for a few days and had already met several demons, and the undead.

True, he was tall for a human, but he was still a human, what chance would he stand against a horde of the monsters we had fought before? We had only survived because…

Cole, I wonder if he would be willing to help.

It wasn’t that farfetched he had said The Demon Court was in a uproar over the incident, he might help.