Page 93 of Mortis

Once appropriately dressed, we went straight to the embalming room. Teddy handed me a pair of gloves and an apron before turning away to prepare his instruments. I released the brakes on the embalming table and wheeled it towards the refrigeration units. It was a routine we had built together since that first day. Teddy prepared his instruments. I retrieved the deceased. He would ask for something, and more often than not, I now knew what he required before he finished speaking. We moved around each other with an ease I had never experienced before.

I liked that too.

For so long, my purpose had been decided by others. Hunt. Kill. Feed. Protect. Every action commanded of me, every use for my body determined before I had any opportunity to object. But this was different. Nobody forced me to help Teddy, I simply wanted to. And having a purpose I had chosen for myself was more fulfilling than I could’ve imagined.

As I reached for the refrigeration unit, Teddy called my name. “Kael?”

I looked back.

“I’ve covered the, uh . . .” He gestured towards his own chest. “Are you sure you want to be here while I prepare him? Or do you want to go out front with Arlo?”

Warmth unfurled beneath my ribs. Such consideration still surprised me. Teddy seemed to offer it without thought, as though caring for me came as naturally to him as breathing. Despite my terrible reaction the previous day, I was less afraid now. Telling Teddy about my past had helped. The memories still hurt, but they no longer felt quite so powerful with him beside me.

With Teddy, I was safe. And more importantly, I was wanted for something other than what I could kill.

“Thank you, my treasure,” I replied, enjoying the way his expression softened at the endearment. “But I’m feeling better today.”

He nodded, though his hands twisted together in front of him.

“Okay, but let me know if you start to feel . . .” He waved his hands, searching for the correct word. When one failed to present itself, he continued anyway. “We can take a break. Get a Frappuccino or some cake, yeah?”

I grinned. “That sounds wonderful.”

Apparently satisfied that I wasn’t going to leap across the room and pin him to the floor again, Teddy returned to organising his instruments. I turned back towards the refrigeration unit, then opened the door.

And stared.

“Teddy.”

“Yep?”

“The drawer is empty.”

I closed the door.

Opened it again.

Still empty.

Had Teddy moved the body yesterday and simply forgotten?

Judging by his expression when he appeared beside me, he had not. “What the fuck?”

He ran a hand through his shaggy hair. It had grown longer since we first met, and he’d lamented more than once that he needed to have it cut. He unlatched the second unit, but the result was the same.

Empty.

Teddy went completely still. Without another word, he tore off his gloves and apron and hurried from the room. I quickly followed, catching up with him in the hallway. It helped that I had the advantage of considerably longer legs. And that Teddy possessed the athletic ability of a wounded pigeon.

We made our way back to reception, where Arlo remained focused on the computer. Teddy slapped his palm against the counter, and Arlo jolted violently. His hand flew to his chest, bunching the fabric of his shirt beneath his fingers. He wore black today, with his favoured high neck and voluminous sleeves. A V-shaped panel of lace exposed part of his chest, separated from the rest of the garment by an unnecessarily extravagant ruffle.

He glared at Teddy. “You’ve got to stop doing that, you⁠—”

“Have you seen Mr Simpson?”

Arlo’s brow furrowed. “Of course I’ve seen him. I was here when Kael and Moz brought him in.”

Teddy shook his head. His index finger began tapping against the counter in a rapid, repetitive rhythm. “No,” he bit out. “I mean, have you seen him this morning?”