We went about twenty doors down and he opened a lock on an old, dark brown door that looked as if it had stood the test of time. For centuries. I tried not to sneer as he opened it and led me into his humble abode. It took me about three seconds to realize that when he’d said, “scraping by on the margins,” he meant it.
There was a couch in front of a TV, but it was brown and beige, and looked like it had been made in the seventies or eighties and had never been reupholstered. The TV was one of the older, standard-def models, and it sat atop a battered old table. There was something of a kitchenette just behind the main living room but it was small and cramped, and I could see dishes piled high in the sink from where I stood. A door led off into what I presumed was a bedroom, but the floor in front of it was covered in dirty laundry.
I wrinkled my nose at the smell; it was plain no one had been cooking, but something had been smoked in the room, and recently. Breandan shot me an embarrassed look. “Me mates and I have a tendency to light one up every now and again.” I gave him a nod and turned my attention back to the couch. “So … you want to know about Omega first, or do you want to go about the business of finding a flat of your own to let?”
“To let?” I asked, as my head started to spin. I was so weary, it took me a minute to realize that let meant rent. British English was confusing. “Never mind. Honestly, I am so tired right now.”
—should ask about Omega first, Zack said.
—don’t need to worry about Omega. We should head back to the States now, Bastian chipped in.
—none of it matters anyway. I’m dead, why do I care? Eve asked.
—need to go back to Omega, Bjorn said. They’ll help—
—can’t be trusted, Gavrikov said. Janus is the only one—
Kill him, Wolfe whispered.
“I need to go to bed,” I said, clenching my hands tight and keeping them at my side. “How long will it take for you to get me a … flat?”
Breandan looked at me slightly wide-eyed, one wider than the other, his eyebrow at an odd angle. “Uhh, hours, in all likelihood. I have to talk to a friend who won’t even be awake for a bit yet.”
“Night owl?” I asked.
“Drug dealer,” Breandan said. “But tends to have the run of the building. She’ll know which units are vacant, which ones can be moved into on short notice, if you catch my meaning.”
“What a charming crowd you must run with,” I said, not really feeling judgmental but probably sounding like it. “I need to sleep now.” The world was tilting around me, the voices in my head a cacophony of argument.
—trust Omega—
—don’t trust Omega—
—don’t trust anyone—
—who cares—
—kill them all—
There was a throbbing in my temples that blotted out all else. I clenched my eyes shut and stuck my index fingers against the sides of my head and rubbed, hard.
“Uh, you look like you’re about to collapse,” Breandan’s voice cut through all the others.
“Yes,” I agreed.
“You can use my room,” he said. “Uh … it has a lock. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”
“A perfect gentleman,” I said with a smile, my eyes still shut. “Thank you kindly.”
“Oh, yeah, no problem.” I opened my eyes and he stood there, watching me uncomfortably, as though I were about to explode all over his floor. Which was a possibility.
I made my way past him and through the open door, kicking his laundry as I went. I shut the door and had only a moment’s thought of my own to spare for what he must be thinking about me right then before the chorus in my head grew so loud I couldn’t contain it any longer, and the last thing I saw was the bed rising up to greet me before I fell into blackness.
Chapter 19
“You made a terrible mess.” Janus’s voice rang with extra emphasis, and I knew it was him before the scene came into focus. It took me a minute to realize he wasn’t talking to me, that he was talking to someone else, someone just as reluctant to be sitting in front of him as I would have been were I actually there.
Adelaide was sitting across the desk from the man himself. Janus’s grey hair and impeccable suit were only slightly different than the one I’d seen him in that very morning. It looked older somehow, less modern and fashionable, and I remembered again that Adelaide, for some reason, was living in the 1980s, and that I, for some other reason, far beyond my ability to adequately explain, was along for the ride with her.
“I did what I had to,” Adelaide said, but her manner was surly and snappish. “I couldn’t very well let this Aeolus go wandering about when I’d been handed a kill order, could I?”