The Investigation | Mikael

Chapter Twelve

 I didn't see Mikael until the next night, and it felt as if the waiting were slowly driving me insane. I began to constantly replay the kiss we shared in my head. Why did he kiss me? Was he just so happy that he didn't give it a second thought, or was there something else? Did it have more to do with me than he would let on? 

 Suddenly, everything else Mikael had told me about didn't seem to matter. All I wanted to know was why he kissed me, and if there was a chance it could ever happen again. If there was any chance it could, I had to see him as soon as possible. 

~~~~~~ 

 By the next night, there had been no sign of Mikael, so I decided to go out and see if I could find him. I went out through the back door and through the alleyway in case Marcel had anyone watching the place. To my surprise, Mikael himself was there in the alleyway, leaning against the side of the building. 

 "I knew you would be coming out soon," he said. "What do you say we go somewhere we'll have less of a chance of being caught together?" 

 "I...suppose that would work," I answered, and I glanced away from him when he smiled at my answer. "Where are we off to?" 

 "You'll see." 

 He reached out and grabbed my arm, and then he pulled me along through alleyways and empty streets until we got to an abandoned house on the edge of the Quarter. 

 "No one ever comes in here," he said as we stepped in. "I've been able to hide here before. There's very little furniture and in a bad way, but it isn't very bad for a hiding spot." 

 He was right about there being little furniture. All I saw was a kitchen table with two chairs, and an old mattress laid out in the living room. 

 "I brought that mattress down form upstairs," Mikael explained. "I thought it would be easier to escape from down here then upstairs, if I ever had to escape from Marcel's henchmen." 

 We sat down together at the kitchen table. Other than that, a dishwasher and an old stove, there was nothing. 

 "So," I began, "After where we left off-" 

 "I don't want to talk about me," Mikael cut in. 

 "Oh?" 

 "I thought we were going to talk about you this time," he said. "You now know so much of my life story, Finnamore, and I know very little of you." 

 "Oh." I closed my notebook. "Well, there isn't too much to tell. Um, I'm from Dublin. I was born in 1877. I had my parents, and a sister. Maureen. And there were a few other scattered relatives."

 "What did you do when you were a human?" 

 "I became a policeman. I never married, but I was happy enough with the way my life was." I  paused there. "And then the war came." 

 "The first world war?" 

 I nodded. "You know your dates. I volunteered and threw myself in without realizing what I was up against. I wound up in the trenches in France for a while, and I just couldn't handle it. I had to get out." 

 Mikael placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward. "What did you do?" 

 I shook my head. "I'm ashamed of it. I never should have." 

 "Finnamore, whatever you did, I have done worse. Don't think I could possibly judge you." 

 He looked so sincere that it made me feel a little more comfortable. 

 "I shot myself," I said. "In the leg. With all the chaos, who would know? That way, I wouldn't have to fight, and I might have just gotten sent back to Dublin." I scoffed. "I could have shot myself in the head and ended everything entirely. But...I thought perhaps I could still have something to live for. I just wanted to go home."

 "But you never went home, did you?" 

 I shook my head. "No. I was so afraid of being found out. If it was discovered I had shot myself out of cowardice, I probably would have been shot anyway. But then Marcel found me, and he offered me a way out. I came to New Orleans with him, he helped me set up my business, and I've been here ever since." 

 "Never been back to Ireland?" 

 "No. I don't think I could face it. Anyway," I continued, "I've always felt a certain loyalty towards Marcel because of it. If it weren't for him, I might have died." 

 "And without him, we never would have met," Mikael pointed out. "Maybe we should at least feel gratitude for that." 

 He leaned even closer and kissed me across the table. I responded by kissing him back. I didn't stop as he got up and came over to my side of the table and kissed me even more, or when he began to pull me towards the mattress in the living room. If there was one thing I had figured out in the past two days, it was that I wanted him.