“Vivian called those things cute.” He was gawking at the crowd of mist and bones. “Is that a goddess thing? To love dark and scary and violent creatures?”
I wasn’t sure he was talking about the beasts as his eyes landed back on me. “No, I think that’s just her,” I answered, subconsciously scratching the scar above my ear.
“I’m glad she’s free. It’s hard to imagine—I mean, it’sallhard to imagine—but being kept in a tube wasting away… This field having a big ugly factory in it. Those healing powers being drained…”
I contained the growl that built in my chest at the thought. He didn’t mean any harm. This was all new to him. Up until today, he likely hadn’t seen proof of the divine despite pledging his life to its protection when joining G.P.O.
Mitus sighed loudly. “One day I'm working a normal, dead shift at my bar gig, and some male shows up and asks me if I want to get away from it all and offers me a ton of money.” He exhaled a thick cloud of gray smoke. “So, I’m thinking, I’m about to be scammed or asked to sell drugs or something. And I say I’m not really interested in that kind of shit. He assures me it’s neither and—hell—the guy has mecurious, so I go to the creepy abandoned barn at the edge of the town thinking I’m out of my gods damned mind.” He looked at me out of the corner of his eyes. “You know the one.”
He wasn’t asking, so I stayed silent.
“Turns out there’s this whole energy war in society. Demigoddesses are being kidnapped and held hostage. People are dying. And I can’t help but wonder how all of this is happening, and I’ve beencompletelyunaware of it my entirefucking life. Somehow, I’ve been unaffected by a war taking place in my own town.”
I couldn’t look at him. Staring at my feet, I forced my hand to stay in my pockets. I could only claw at the old scar so much. It fucking burned. My heart was thundering. I felt sick talking to him about this.
“And then I remember that fairytale my pops had in an envelope when I was a kid. I got the shit beat out of me for opening it, which felt unfair since it was just some story. Right?” He laughed without humor. “It was about goddesses and fields with magical powers. I mean sure, the story was a little dark. And weirdly written. There were lots of numbers and some shit about machines and torture and cages… but it wasn’treal. Nothing worth giving me a black eye over. A fucking strange, mail-order fairytale.”
I focused on keeping my expression blank. I wanted this conversation over.It wasn’t even a conversation. He was monologuing, building up towards a plot point I knew all too fucking well. I hoped he would stop before he got there. For both of us.
“My dad was killed shortly after that.”There it was. “By a Quadmos.”Fuck. “The only evidence they left was a trail of blood on the window they escaped through. I was fucking traumatized and my whole life was uprooted.” He stared into the darkness, the joint a millimeter from his lips all but simmering out. He blinked away the memories and relit the smoke. “So I’ve been thinking, why did he have that letter? What side of this was he on? Did he die fighting for the right cause? Or die because somebody was trying to stop the bad guys? Maybe it was neither. But I wish I fucking knew.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” I could barely keep my voice steady. I wanted to apologize thoroughly, properly, but now wasn’t the time. This wasn’t the way.
“You know, this is the second time I was randomly offered a job that I was unqualified for and drastically improved my quality of life. Isn’t it funny both offers were from peopleyouwork with?”
Was that statement a trap? “I don’t work with G.P.O.”
He hummed. “Well, I’m glad they exist so females like Vivian can be protected. And if they’re the ones who killed my dad, that gives me some closure. At least he didn’t die for no reason. Good or bad, it’d be something.”
This was his way of asking me if I was involved. I turned to look at him. Mitus always struggled with being direct, vulnerable. When I saw his black eyes locked on my scar, I knew. He knew.
“G.P.O. doesn’t exchange information through letters,” was all I could say, but I hoped it would be enough.
Mitus had his answer.
He inhaled a long, steadying breath. His lips pursed. He was nodding slightly, letting the information sink in. “Erith said he doesn’t feel bad about anyone he’s killed. That it’s an important part of the job. Unavoidable. Hurts to hear because part of me is still miserable about my pop’s death all the fucking time… but he’s right. I hope whoever that hitman was, he understands he did what he had to. Hell, maybe I’ll have to do the same thing one day. I’m just pissed my dad got tied up with the wrong side.”
Was this… forgiveness? I didn’t feel like I deserved it, but I never thought I’d get it in the first place. There we stood. Bothwith half closure to our messy, festering wounds. But it was a start. And now, I could begin thinking through what a coherent apology may look like one day.
He tilted his head to stare up at the galaxies swirling above us in the purple night sky. “Theo?”
“Yeah.”
“Erith is driving me fucking insane. I’m holding a grudge against whoever decided I’d be living with the only assassin obsessed with rulebooks and meditation.”
A chuckle escaped me, he'd be surprised how common those interests were at G.P.O. My head fell forward in relief at the change of topics. I shifted to face him more directly now that the hard part was over. Mitus was re-lighting his joint again. Under the glow of the lighter, I noticed rings of subtle bruising on his throat. With little pin pricks surrounding them. Like he’d beennibbledrecently.
The door opened to my right and Vivian’s head poked out. “Theo, I can’t reach the coffee and Ragen is still occupied.”
“Be right there,” I nodded. Vivian smiled and disappeared inside again.
Any other day I would’ve jumped at the opportunity to escape Mitus, but I wasn’t sure how to thank him for trying to navigate this conversation with me. It felt disrespectful to hint at feeling gratitude. It would imply he owed me relief. He didn’t.
“If the situation in Drifael causes you trouble or you want out of G.P.O., you can always tell me. I’ll do what I can.” It was the best I could offer right now. Show I cared and would still be looking out for him.
“Good talk, Theo. I’m gonna stay out here for a bit.”
“Sure.” I started up the steps.
