Epilogue

The sun emerged over the horizon as Chad drank his coffee. He'd woken breathless after another bout of dreams. Marc, Tate, Vincent, and Lucy had all been in them, a mishmash of moments his subconscious had thrown together with no true beginning or end.

Romeo had crushed him to his chest, murmured reassurances, hoping to help Chad drift off again, but he'd only succeeded in sending himself back to sleep.

Chad didn't mind.

Listening to Romeo snore while being pressed hard enough to him to feel his heart beating was far more peaceful than sleep ever could be, but he decided he'd take Ally's advice and call Doctor Blake.

Chad grew restless in bed, and had managed to escape Romeo's arms and trudge downstairs.

His head throbbed. His eyes were dry, and he sniffled, reaching for a tissue. He blew his nose as quietly as possible not to disturb Romeo above.

Merc stood at his side, drooling already as he waited for his bowl to be filled.

"It's a little early," Chad told him, but filled it anyway.

Merc dove his head in the bowl and started chomping. His collar jangled as it hit the bowl, and Chad thought of the gun, the click of the barrel closing, the snap of the trigger.

Chad left the kitchen to grab something from his coat. He returned, took a deep breath, then looked down at his ID card. A younger Chad looked up at him. One before Romeo. He used the same passport photo he had in Canster. The Chad in the picture was eager to prove himself, desperate even, the public's approval meant everything to him.

Not anymore.

He tugged open the cutlery drawer and grabbed a sharp pair of scissors.

Chad cut the card lengthways, slicing through his own throat, then he dropped the pieces in the trash bin and turned to the window.

He sighed, then frowned as the bird feeders caught his eye.

The rising sun glinted off them, dazzling Chad until he put down his coffee and moved to the pantry to grab the bird seed. He slipped on Romeo's mud-covered boots and grabbed his reaper coat from the stair banister before trapsing outside to fill the feeders.

Merc followed after he'd finished his biscuits and proceeded to gobble up the escaping seeds that hit the ground.

"There," he said, glancing around the trees, but magpies didn't swarm him like they did Romeo. All was still and quiet. He sighed, and trudged his way back, whistling Merc to heel.

"That's a good look on you," Romeo said as Chad stepped inside the kitchen.

"I think you pull off the reaper better than I ever could."

Romeo snorted, then resumed scrolling through his phone. Chad slipped out of his boots, then passed Romeo to hang up his coat.

Romeo bit his lip, glancing up from Chad's phone.

"What is it?" Chad asked.

"I booked us a little getaway."

"We talked about this—in principle, it sounds great, but sneaking around a serial killer on a holiday will be more stressful than it is relaxing—"

"It's remote," Romeo said, passing the phone to Chad. "It comes with spectacular views."

"It's on a damn cliff top." Chad said, widening his eyes. He scrolled through the pictures of a huge double bed overlooking the sea. The living room had a log fire, and a corner sofa perfect for cuddling up on.

"They allow one well behaved dog," Romeo raised his eyebrow, "but Mercutio will have to do."

"Merc's perfectly behaved."

"I can see sunflower seeds between his teeth…"

"Romeo, I … I don't know," Chad said. He sat down at the table.

"You need a break," Romeo said. "We need a break from this," he gestured to the field. "A little time to reset, just be us. It's got private access to the beach, there's not another property for miles, and the key is in a lockbox attached to the house. It's perfect."

"It does sound good," Chad admitted.

And it did. It sounded too good to be true even, a break where he wouldn't have to acknowledge the world's hatred for him. He wouldn't wonder about how close Josh was getting to the truth, or think about how he was going to pursue Michael, who Chad was convinced had something to do with Harriet's disappearance.

A week of just him, Romeo, and Merc.

"Let's do it," Chad said softly.

Romeo beamed. "Here's the plan. We fill the car with everything we need, check in, then won't leave the place until our week is up. No TV. No phones—"

"No magpies."

Romeo snorted. "No. No magpies," he looked out the window. "Not that there's any here. I don't know what's happened to them."

Chad scrolled through the pictures again. He allowed a smile.

"So … when are we going?"

Romeo looked back at him. He leaned down to kiss Chad on the head. "Friday."

"What would you have done if I'd have said no."

"Plan B was tying you up on the backseat."

"I'm glad it didn't come to that."

Romeo was about to reply, but paused at the sound from outside. The chuckle and chortle of magpies. He grinned, and pulled Chad from his chair. Romeo's arms surrounded him, and held on tight. "We're going to be okay."

"I know," Chad whispered. "I'm not sure what the magpies have to do with that, though."

"They bring us luck."

"More like headaches and the fear of losing an eye to their claws."

"Dramatic," Romeo said, bopping him on the nose.

Chad rolled his eyes. "Looks like the change of seed worked."

"I didn't change it," Romeo murmured. "Just needed your magic touch."

Chad watched the fluttering of wings out the window as Romeo kissed up his neck.

"How many are out there?" Romeo asked against his skin.

Chad sighed, and through half lidded eyes, managed to count them. "Six."

"Six." Romeo repeated, dragging his teeth against Chad's jaw.

Chad's eyes slid further shut at Romeo's caress, but a smudge of black opened them wide.

It swooped down.

The magpies cawed, and screamed, and beat their wings as they retreated to the trees, but one of the six didn't make it.

Romeo lifted his head, letting go of Chad as he rushed to the backdoor. He didn't bother with his boots, he stepped into the field, breaking out in a run.

Jet black wings stretched wide, and the bird took off, flying over the house and out of sight before Romeo could get to it.

Chad had caught glimpses of it before.

The predator that lurked in the shadows.

Romeo had told him he'd been imagining things.

Chad watched from the window as Romeo picked up the dead magpie. Its head flopped from one side to the other, neck broken. Romeo stretched out one of its wings, marveling at the flashes of blue and green as the sun reflected off the feathers.

It was beautiful. Chad didn't like the magpies. They were loud, and bold, but there was no mistaking the beauty they had or the hold they had over Romeo.

He spoke to them, and they spoke back.

Their effect on him was almost spiritual.

Chad didn't get it, but he didn't need to.

All he needed to know was they meant a lot to Romeo.

Romeo's mouth hung open, and his eyes were wide like he couldn't comprehend what had just happened, that something had been so brash to have taken one of them out right in front of him.

It lay dead in his hands—all he could do was manipulate its small body and watch as its neck jerked, tormenting himself. Chad could see Romeo breathing fast, the flashes of anguish on his stunned face. It bothered him to see it like that, dead and cooling fast in his hand.

Each roll of its neck made Chad's stomach churn.

"Enough!" Chad shouted as he rushed outside to join Romeo. "Enough, Romeo!"

He took the magpie from Romeo's hands. "You can't… There's nothing you can do."

Romeo glared over the house in the direction the raven had flown.

"It's … it's nature." Chad said, not knowing what else to say. "Predators and prey. Life and death."

"Life and death," Romeo echoed back. His voice lacked all emotion. "There were six."

"Yeah," Chad agreed, studying the magpie in his hands. It was small and delicate, and its beady eyes were open and unseeing. "There were six…"

The End