14 - Paul
I hope he’s worth it
The leftovers are waitingfor me in the main floor grand lobby when I make my way down there. They are all lined up, like they’ve planned a little ceremony.
Twenty-one. Twenty-one lost men. My army.
I pause on the last landing to sigh. It’s not Legion, by any means. But it will have to do.
One of the scions steps forward. “My lord!” And when he says this, they all kneel in unison, bowing their heads and staring at the floor.
The one in front lifts his eyes up. They are a nice shade of gold, which I like because he reminds me of Ryet, and this is the only reason I know his name. Everything I do these days goes back to Ryet. Since the moment he was born, it has always been about Ryet.
Why, though? Why am I obsessed with that man? There’s no rhyme or reason to it. He’s attractive and I am drawn to him for that reason, I’ll admit that. But this one here, Jeff, I like him naked as well. And though this one does balk a bit at times, he never positioned himself as an adversary the way Ryet did. He’s much easier to enjoy, that’s for sure.
So why Ryet?
When I don’t say anything, Jeff gets anxious and stands back up, which compels the others to do the same. “We haven’t completed the coat yet, but we have secured some pelts from a local fur trader about twenty miles south, so we’re…” Jeff looks over at another guy. “Well… tell him.”
“Yeah.” The other guy looks very nervous. “I did check the YouTube and I did find a pattern for Jon Snow’s coat. But?—”
“Stop.” I put up a hand. “I don’t have time for this. What the actual fuck are you talking about?”
This guy’s eyebrows shoot up in confusion. “My lord?”
“What are you going on about? We’re in the middle of a battle of Biblical proportions. Why are you talking to me about acoat?”
This one and Jeff exchange a look. Jeff clears his throat. “Well, my lord, you asked us to make you a Jon Snow coat out of wolf pelts.”
Without thinking I guffaw. Then do it again. And it feels good to let my strung-out emotions free like this, so when I’m done laughing, I suck in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I’m sorry. This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Jon Snow is a pussy. Do I look like a Jon Snow? I’m not cosplaying Jon Snow. And this isn’t a fantasy!” I kinda roar this. “This is reality! And you’re my Army of Darkness!” Here I pause. “Wait. No, wrong movie. Never mind that. We’renotthe Army of Darkness!Theyare!”
Every scion head nods in agreement. But it’s one of those cautious, ‘he’s insane’ kind of agreements. And now I do kind of remember something about Jon Snow, and I might’ve asked them to make me a coat.
So I feel dumb.
Also… crazy. Have I lost my mind? Has the whole ordeal finally caught up with me? Is this how Paul the Vampire goes out? A deranged lunatic who can’t discern dream from reality?
Only if I let it be.
“I’m sorry,” I say, sighing, but also rallying. “I’m not myself right now. We’re in the middle of things. It’s confusing for everyone.” They emphatically agree with me now. “And I never really explained your role in the endgame, so it’s all my fault. But”—I smile at them—“you are…” I need the right word here. Something that conveys all the meanings and bolsters their faith in me. “You are… the Chosen.” Oh, yeah, that’s perfect. “That’s right. The Chosen. I chose you?—”
But before I can finish, the front doors of the lodge slam open and a ray of sunshine bursts through them. And behind that ray of sunshine is—well, whoever it is, they are backlit. So it takes me a few more seconds to recognize Tristin after he steps forward.
“My lord!” He’s bellowing at me. “What thefuckare you still doing here?”
This is when I realize I don’t know. I felt so sure of myself when I took Kael up to White River. I had a plan, the plan was for Ryet and Syrsee, and it was executed. This internal wordplay nearly causes me to snort at my double entendre.
But now I’m confused.
Which isn’t something I typically allow myself to be.
I close my eyes, breathe, and try to calm myself. Because I’m acting strange. Even if there weren’t twenty-one scions and Tristin looking at me like I’m insane, I can feel my approaching madness.
Something has gone wrong.Again.
Tristin walks towards me with a concerned look on his face. “Paul?”
“What?”
