Chapter Twenty-Seven

NATHEN

 

Nathen needed to get out of there. He couldn’t focus on what they were saying and was growing more upset at Cameron and what he had said before they were summoned, while they were at Sanctuary, and then after they returned. Cameron wanted him to leave. He saw Nathen as psychologically incompetent to make his own choices, and when they came back, he was distant and stayed away after Nathen had confided in him.

He needed time to think this through and didn’t want to be surrounded by people he didn’t know well and whose mere presence was making him nervous.

He didn’t register anything on his run back to the city. As he moved through the shadows too fast for people to perceive, he eventually found a building overlooking the bay in the distance.

Alone, with the roar of nightlife from the crowds moving below, no one took notice as he stopped and sat on the edge of the rooftop, hidden from view. As he gazed out and absorbed the hum of the city, his mind raced like a rocket heading to the moon.

Previously, on the drive back to the house, he had a growing sense of melancholy, but it was now in full force and he was encompassed by the familiar growing specter of depression. Had he hurt Cameron, unintentionally so, simply by expressing a preference? Cameron wanted him gone. And along with that, what Cameron had said in Sanctuary about him played over in his mind. Incompetent? Not playing with a full deck. Mentally deficient. Cameron wanted to leave him behind. To break up. But he didn’t. Or did he? Over and over, the perseveration went, scenes for which he had no answers.

I am competent. Nathen argued with himself. He thought he was in control of what he wanted in life, and the things he had no control over were not worth concerning himself with. He had learned this stoic concept, though it also appeared in Buddhism and the other great traditions and faiths. It was summed up wonderfully, he thought, in the serenity prayer, which he muttered to himself. “…grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” What did he have control over? More and more, fate, destiny, or determinism had greater sway on his life than usual.

Cameron had been intoxicated with his and August’s blood, but the things he said were not fabricated. They were just normally buried. Cameron wouldn’t vocalize them, but they were still there, dwelling in the maze of his mind. Like a discarded and forgotten monster, the thing he pushed and ran from. A shadow he didn’t want to confront because it would mean accepting things about himself he would rather not.

A scream bubbled just under the surface, unuttered, as Nathen jumped up and paced from corner to corner of the rooftop trying to parse out the thoughts that plagued his mind.

*

CAMERON

 

“What did I miss? Why did he leave?” Cameron asked, rooted to the spot with a building sense of dread.

“I’m not certain,” August admitted. “Nathen just ran out. Do you want me to go after him?”

Cameron considered for a moment and then shook his head. “Let him go. He’s probably going to try to find Dara to return ‘home.’”

“You’re being an ass.” August was suddenly directly in his face, and Cameron was sure he would have startled had he not been mentally in contact.

“Why do you say that?” he asked wearily.

“Your boyfriend runs out of here, and you don’t go after him?” August’s question was a gentle challenge.

Cameron grunted. “How? He knows I can’t move as fast as he can, and he obviously wants to go. He’s threatened this before. Just run away. I can’t stop him. And now he’s found something better than me, what does he need me for? He can enjoy getting lost in neverland with alien minds that he apparently can understand and prefers to hang with. They can give him much more than I ever could.”

August leaned against the counter, his eyes closing tightly.

Syn came into the kitchen, and Cameron’s attention swung to her. “I know. Whatever. Just keep figuring out the next steps with Paige and the others, okay?”

His best friend frowned, but her hands shot up in the air and came down with a smack on her thighs in a gesture of acquiescence before she about-faced and stomped off.

The hollowness within Cameron threatened to overwhelm him again as he dwelled on his relationship. Nathen was brilliant and beautiful, his soul pure. And the more he thought about it, of course it made sense that autistic people were genetically linked to fae. With minds that could not be understood by well-meaning “neurotypical” people who tried to make meaning by studying them with neuroimaging and theories of neurological development. And of course, he belonged among his own people in his own version of Utopia. Cameron wouldn’t stop that. What he had constantly been confused about was Nathen’s attraction to him: a murderer, a serial killer for that matter. He had nothing at all to offer someone like Nathen.

His self-flagellation interrupted, Cameron had momentarily forgotten August was there and flinched when he began speaking.

“She was seventeen when we met. Her corn-silk hair was pinned up in a pile at the back of her head in a thick bun, which I knew betrayed its length. I have always been a sucker for women with long hair, and my first thought was of what it might look like down.”

Cameron studied August, whose eyes were no longer focused on the room. His lips curved into a smile at his memories. “The poets talk about how one loses their breath when they experience love at first sight. I think it’s because those same poets have been in love. When Margaret turned and our eyes met, my heart did things in my chest I didn’t know hearts could do. It was like being woken from a dream. Like my entire life up until that moment had been foggy, but she brought a moment of clarity, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I would be marrying her.

“Unconcerned with the fact I had just gotten off work and was filthy from the fields, I ran across the road, almost hit by a carriage. And her laugh was magic. Her first words to me? ‘Sir, you’re not very observant, are you?’ I fumbled with my hat and told her the only thing I needed to observe was her. It was so simple. All of the pieces fell into place, so to speak. Our courtship was swift, and we married three months later. She was a wealthy pastor’s daughter, the middle of five sisters and first to marry. The family was happy I was god-fearing and a hard worker. I had a small savings and, yet young, was able to provide, though her father insisted on helping. We moved to follow the railroad, and god blessed us with a pregnancy almost immediately.”

Cameron choked as a wave of grief hit him, so forcefully he was sure he might fall back if he weren’t already leaning against the counter. August refocused and his sad smile masked what Cameron could feel still affected him.

“We had one year together. That’s all. God granted me one year with Margaret before calling her and our child home. And I returned to the fog until I met Dara yesterday. I honestly don’t know what to make of it, but I asked her to court me like I had with Margaret. And she agreed. We spent yesterday talking about all manner of things. To get a second chance to feel alive again, truly alive. That’s a blessing.

“Cameron, last night I was granted a very unique glimpse into your and Nathen’s minds and hearts. We shared an evening of passion that rivals most encounters I’ve had. But one thing I learned was both of you have such low images of yourselves it doesn’t surprise me you’re getting in your own ways here. If I’ve learned nothing else in my very long existence, I’ve learned communication is key. You need to talk to each other about what has been happening.”

August was right. He had given the very same advice countless times over in a professional capacity. And it was frustrating that with Nathen his inability to always read him was lending to increased feelings of insecurity. He sighed heavily, running over scenarios in his mind.

Finally, he reiterated, “There’s nothing to talk about. He’s made his choice. He’s the one who left. That’s all I need to know. He doesn’t want to be with me and it’s fine. He should be with his own people. He’ll be happier with them.”

August groaned in frustration. “I’m disappointed in you. If you can’t, or won’t, I will.” He blurred out of the room with a sudden draft and pop of air that filled the void of his empty space.

Cameron scoffed. He was often disappointed in himself. He trudged back into the living room and ignored the curious glances his way, keeping his gaze averted from everyone as he plucked information from people’s surface thoughts. Paige told them there were six members of her coven that would assist with the battle. Since the queen appeared situated in a New York headquarters, it meant a lot of coordination to get everyone up to New York for an all-out assault, but August had told them it had been Dara and the other fae’s belief if they were to cut down leadership the rest of the clusters would fall apart. So, the original plan to take out their leader was still the main goal. The only hiccup was it was in New York.

Cameron realized everyone had fallen quiet and was looking at him. He scanned and comprehended his mother had asked about Nathen. “I don’t know,” he admitted, rubbing his temples. The combination of reading people and the tension from Nathen was getting to him. “We have an appointment with HR, his company’s liaison, tomorrow and will learn more about what they know about Keystone. We’re also planning on challenging him about fae because we’ve thought for some time Impetus is run by fae that made Nathen. I think it’s time we get some answers. But—”

Cameron bolted to his feet, a scream caught in his throat. They fell from the sky, surrounding the house. Arachane!