Chapter Nine
Without Regrets
As they approachedthe Paranormal Society in stony silence, Felipe’s resolve faltered with a tired sigh. “Whose room are we using?”
“Yours,” Barlow responded faster than necessary. Catching himself, he added, “It might be best in case the murderer comes back. I just need to grab a few things from my... lab.”
Felipe regarded Barlow from the edge of his vision. All the closeness and openness he had seen at dinner seemed to vanish again beneath a heavy layer of befuddled awkwardness, and Felipe couldn’t figure out why. During their dinner conversation, Barlow had warmed up and enjoyed himself, and then suddenly, that veneer of cold politeness that set Galvan’s teeth on edge reappeared. As soon as he felt like he got a handle on him, Barlow slipped out of reach.
“That’s fine. Should I wait upstairs for you?” he asked, holding the door for him.
“Yes, no. The, umm—” Barlow rubbed his sternum over his heart with a pointed look.
Felipe rolled his eyes. “It isn’t even that far apart.”
“I just...” He looked around the foyer to confirm it was empty before leaning close to Felipe’s ear. Oliver’s arm brushed against his with the lightest touch, but combined with the breeze of his words on his ear, it took everything in Galvan’s power not to lean against him as he whispered, “I don’t want to lose you.”
The quiet desperation in Barlow’s voice softened his anger. “All right. It’s probably a good idea to stick together.”
Following Barlow down the halls and winding steps to the basement of the Paranormal Society, Felipe tried not to think about where he was heading. He had been in Barlow’s lab countless times on cases to get evidence briefings or presentations on the wounds left by certain creatures, but he had never truly thought about the people who ended up there. Unlocking the outer and inner doors, Oliver flipped on the lights to reveal the cavernous space. Felipe’s eyes immediately fell on the wall of metal drawers. If Oliver hadn’t accidentally reawakened him, he would be locked in one of those drawers waiting to be dissected. Would Barlow have woken him up to ask who murdered him or would he have simply tried to gather the evidence written on his body? Oliver said he wanted to avoid it, but in a week, Felipe would be down here, too. With a murmured apology, the medical examiner ducked into the supply closet and shut the door.
Fear and anger warred in Felipe’s chest as he leaned against the cold stone with his arms crossed. It was unfair. He had managed to survive so much. His only power was his body’s selfish sense of preservation, and it had finally failed him. A bitter laugh escaped his lips. It hadn’t even been his fault. It wasn’t as if he had picked a fight with the wrong monster or run headlong into danger. He had come home at the wrong time. Felipe flinched. Maybe it had been his fault. If he had been the bigger person and stayed at Louisa’s, he might not have died.
“Are you all right, Felipe?” Oliver asked with his head cocked and a small carpet bag hanging from his arm.
“I’m fine. You had an overnight bag down here?”
Oliver’s face stilled, but half a second later, he gave him a tight smile. “Yes, in case work runs late or there’s a storm. Can’t be too prepared, right?”
Something contrary jumped to Felipe’s lips, but he swallowed it down. That’s what had gotten him in trouble in the first place. Looking around the room one more time, Oliver closed the supply closet but stopped at the antechamber door.
“When we get upstairs, I want to check you over if you don’t mind. For decomposition.”
Felipe blinked at the clarification. If he had expected anything more between him and Oliver Barlow, that ship had sailed during dinner when his expression changed to borderline horror. Hell, he wasn’t even sure Barlow knew he was attracted to men. While the Paranormal Society had a disproportionate number of women who went the way of Sappho, men aligned with Achilles, and people whose gender sat firmly outside societal parameters, there were still those who went against their natures or seemed oblivious to it. Barlow hardly seemed oblivious but repressed would fit well with that tightly wound exterior.
“I don’t feel like I’ve stepped any closer to the grave, but you can check if you’d like.”
“I would.”
***
Snapping on the lightsin his flat, Felipe threw open the door and pushed inside as if expecting someone to be lurking in the dark. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed to find the living room silent and the bedroom empty. The only evidence of the day’s events was the diluted stain on the rug and the ruined shirt in Felipe’s bedroom.
“How do you want to go about this?”
“The exam or sleeping arrangements?” Barlow asked as he bent to stoke the fire.
“Both.”
Felipe pulled the stopper off the sherry before putting it back in favor of the rum. With the day he had, he deserved something stronger. While Barlow was busy with his back turned, Felipe took a long swig of the amber liquid straight from the bottle, savoring its sweet, woody flavor. He had been saving it, but fuck it. No point in saving it for a future that would never be. When Barlow went to bed, he would drink it by himself.
“I thought I could sleep in the armchair or on the rug by the hearth. I don’t mind the floor since my bed is pretty hard.”
Felipe was about to nod along when his gaze ran over the bloodstain. “On second thought, I’d rather have you sleep in the bedroom. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to sleep out here by the door with no protection.”
