Chapter 29

29

W hen Delina had imagined going and getting intentionally drunk with her ex-boyfriend, she hadn't anticipated the entire group going along.

The dive bar is far cry away from what Delina would consider adequate, but beggars can't be choosers and there's a giant tacky mural on one wall and dim enough lighting that she can't see the circles under Maison's eyes.

Chloe orders a round of ‘the special' for them, and all four of them crowd around a standing booth.

Unspoken, Maison presses his side against hers, and she's not about to begrudge him that simple comfort. It's nice, the physical contact, and she never quite realized how much they always touched until all the casual gestures were gone.

And if she leans into it a bit more, she's not going to admit it.

Nobody's talking, as Chloe comes back precariously balancing the four drinks. They're fluorescent green in tall glasses, and the dim lighting does them no favors.

"First time we got these Gurlien got so drunk he applied for law school," Chloe breaks the silence, as they all stare at the drinks. "Only stopped because none of his actual degrees could be found in the system."

"Thanks, Chloe," Gurlien grumbles, before picking up the drink and sipping it. "It was two weeks after I got kicked out."

"And your first thought was law school?" Delina asks, not quite containing the courage to pick up the drink, not with Maison still pressed against her.

"One of my degrees is an equivalent," Gurlien says. "The other is Biofeedback based, and med school seemed worse than law school."

This thaws Maison a little, and he raises an eyebrow at Gurlien. "You went through twice?"

"So the College does actual Degrees, weird," Delina says, still staring down at the drink. "I thought it was a ‘school of thought' sort of college."

"I liked school," Gurlien says, almost plaintive. "I liked the research, I liked the clear and achievable goals, and I liked that all that mattered was your brain. It didn't matter how social I was, it didn't matter how awkward I was, it was just learning."

"Mine was technically in logic puzzles," Chloe says, and she, too, is staring at the drink with some trepidation, despite the fact that she's the one that ordered them. "But that's just a fancy term for breaking into things that other people had locked. They really thought I'd be useful for them."

"I was definitely not given a choice and it was demonology," Maison replies dryly, and it's so close to his normal personality that if it wasn't for the tremor that still ran through his shoulders occasionally, she would think he is better. "Then it was research, then…"

"Art classes after work?" Delina asks, and he nods.

"So if you weren't born in the college, you would've just done art school?" Chloe asks, honestly curious.

"Pretty much," Maison says, before he shifts away from Delina long enough to grab the drink. "What the hell is in this?"

"Something green," Gurlien replies sarcastically. "Some mixer. Probably vodka."

Maison stares down at it, then, in one go, downs the entire drink.

"Alright," Delina says, as he coughs once. "So tonight's gonna be like that?"

He sets the glass down with a thunk, and looks to her like she's the only person in the building. Like the sleepy bartender and the lackluster locals and the other two people at their very table no longer exist.

"You're the one who offered to get drunk," he points out, and she lifts her chin, not about to back down at that.

There's still the hint of a tremor running through his shoulders, and his throat is tight against her scan.

"Fine then," Delina says, then pounds her drink in one go, and it burns far more than it should, and is somehow not sickly sweet.

She sputters the burn all the way down her throat.

"Yeah, these aren't nice," Gurlien says, but both of his eyebrows are raised well above his glasses as he gingerly sips from his glass. "So Delina, how many dead are around here?"

"Ew," she responds, then lets her eyes flutter shut.

There's a dead mouse in the walls of the building over, all but a skeleton now, just the vaguest of pulls behind her gut. There's a trail of dead ants in a pipe behind the bar—ew—and some dead moths under the heater next to the door.

"Bugs," Delina responds, which seems to be the way things are right now. "Dead bugs seem to be everywhere in the world. And bones of a mouse in the next building."

Gurlien shakes his head, like it's still amazing. "One of these days you're going to unintentionally solve a murder and then things are going to be real weird for you legally."

A tremor winds its way through Maison at that, and she tucks herself closer to him.

"Wouldn't hold up in court," Chloe reminds him.

"I'm not saying as a court witness, I'm saying as a she's gonna stumble on some dead body hidden in someone's walls and blurt it out," Gurlien replies, which isn't better.

Chloe sets her drink in front of the two of them. "I'll drive tonight, enjoy." There's a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Make sure someone doesn't blow anything up."

"I don't blow things up," Maison says, instantly, and there's years of exasperation in his tone. "Why does everyone always think I'm going to blow things up?"

"It's the demon," Gurlien replies immediately. "Did you see the fight spot where they took down Terese?"

Maison shakes his head, still screwing up his face.

"Oh, it's brutal," Chloe chimes in after getting herself a normal soda from the bar. "So much demon junk, so much Necromancy, even I could tell. Like it's haunted."

Delina resists the urge to slink back. "That's where my mom died?"

They fall silent, before Gurlien nods.

"Wild," Delina replies blandly.

"Terese also killed off an entire few acres of land off of the coast near Bellingham" Gurlien says, obviously skittish that close to someone showing emotion. "Just…everything dead. Plants, dirt, everything."

Maison's hand settles in the small of Delina's back, a tentative connection. Like he's testing the waters.

She leans against him, just enough to be noticeable, and her skin tingles at that little touch.

"Do you want another?" Maison asks of her, voice low as if it's just for her.

"Not of these," Delina retorts, and there's a ghost of a smile on his face, something halfway between tentative and scared. "Get me something that won't burn my taste buds."

Maison pushes away from the table, and the moment he's arguably out of earshot both Gurlien and Chloe lean in.

"Are you sure this is wise?" Gurlien asks. "Is he okay enough for this? He did some dangerous shit today, is getting him drunk the best course of action?"

"I mean probably not," Delina says, but there's a worm of irritation in her now. "But he got scared, some sort of stress relief sounds like a good idea."

Chloe watches her, face solemn, sipping at the soda. "He meant emotionally."

"No, I didn't," Gurlien protests.

"You two have been weird," Chloe continues, and if it wasn't such a true observation, Delina would weigh being offended. "One second I think he's about to run away, and then I think he's about to write poetry for you, and you look like you're caught between ignoring the fact that he exists and making out with him. Is getting drunk really a good idea?"

It's a good point, but it doesn't do a thing for all the emotions welling up in her, mixed with the burn in her throat. "It's not like it's any less confusing for me."

"That's fair," Gurlien says, begrudgingly sipping the vile green drink. "It's not like too many people are in such dramatic circumstances with their ex all the time."

"Remember you and Richard and Tina, though?" Chloe says, and Gurlien groans, thumping his head down on the table. "You were banging both of them well after you broke up with them and were so scared they'd find out." She gives Delina a hint of a smile, some sort of rescue. "They both already knew, it was a big giant nothingburger and Gurlien stressed about it for months."

"Oh my god," Delina deadpans, as Maison slides back in next to her, handing her a martini. "We're discussing Gurlien's romantic mishaps."

"Is this about Tina and what's his name?" Maison asks immediately. "That was hilarious."

"How did you find out about that, that was only three years ago?" Gurlien says.

"Monthly trip," Maison replies. "I'm fairly certain even my mom knew."

He swallows at the mention of his mother, before blinking through it.

There's still so much about him that Delina doesn't know. And now, one drink still burning in her stomach, she wants to know more.

"So it's a small community," Delina starts, and they all three nod, "everyone know everyone else? Rumors go crazy?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Maison answers, this time sipping the glass of whatever whiskey he got for himself, gamely leaving the green drink in the middle of the table. "Everyone knew everyone else's business. Everyone commented on each other's business, knew the assignments, everything."

"That's why your mom was an outlier," Gurlien says, as if eager to get it off of his gossip, pointing to Delina. "She kept herself and her protégés separate. We didn't know Alette was a spell weaver—and a ridiculous one at that—until she was far into her teens."

"And that Axel could change his appearance," Chloe pipes up, and Delina raises an eyebrow. "He had such a grasp of his alchemy he could literally change his face, and we didn't know until he was already an adult."

"Do you think they'd talk to me?" Delina asks, and Maison's hand traces a design on her back, threatening to derail her mind. "Or are they angry at my mom, too."

"That's why I've been calling them every few days," Gurlien grouses. "They don't like me."

"Not you, but me," Delina asks, forging on. "I call them, completely unknown number. Or show up wherever they are at their doorsteps. Get their help with Maison's mom, hide with them."

Gurlien and Chloe glance at each other, and one of those long wordless conversations ensues.

"While Axel is generally outgoing and friendly, I'm not sure how well your cousin would react to seeing you," Chloe starts, and Delina flinches.

"What do you mean, cousin?" Delina blurts out, and both of them blanch. "I have a cousin?"

Neither of them say anything, so Delina turns and gapes at Maison.

"By marriage," he replies, and there's the hint of a flush across his cheeks, the flush he gets when he drinks too fast. "Your mother remarried a few times, one of them was to Alette's uncle, I believe."

At least he's giving her an answer.

"And nobody thought to mention the fact that this person we're trying to reach is my cousin?"

"Honestly, I thought they did already," Maison says, and his face is open, open in the way it rarely ever is. "They were already throwing around her name, I thought…" he shrugs, still not moving his hand from her back. "I think you two would've been actual cousins for all of a year and a half?"

"Alette still called Frisse her aunt," Gurlien says, which isn't helping his case. "But I've mentioned you in the messages."

"Which they might not even be listening to," Delina deadpans, then takes a large drink of the martini for courage.

It, too, burns on the way down.

"Is every drink here just shitty?" Delina asks, and both Chloe and Gurlien nod. "Okay, how far away do they live?"

"They're a three-hour trip," Gurlien all but mumbles. "You have to cross the border."

"I can make you a new passport," Chloe says, not quite helpfully. "It might take a few days to a week to get it right, but it should be possible."

"Fine, make the passport and I'll drive myself—"

"—and me," Maison interrupts.

"And Maison up to Canada and talk to them," Delina says, staring down at the martini, even more of a knot in her throat. "She knew my mom."

The other three exchange glances, before Maison grabs his whiskey and shoots it back.

"She was practically raised by your mom," Maison says, after a cough. "So you're prepared."

"Great." Delina takes another large gulp of the martini.

"She tore down the demon protections on the compound," Gurlien says, and his face is a bit pale. "To fix the ley lines going through, so you won't be safe."

Maison straightens, squaring his shoulders, and stares Gurlien down.

"Or, you could take your overpowered ex-boyfriend there and he'll protect you from eighty percent of everything that could happen and probably scare the shit out of Alette and Axel and they might sic their necromancer on you," Gurlien says sarcastically. "That'll be a great show of force, and that compound was left to Alette so she could legally throw you out."

"Gurlien, stop," Chloe says, elbowing him and rolling her eyes. "Don't be a dick."

Gurlien gestures to Maison, like he started it.

Even though Delina's shoes stick to the floor, she shifts away, downing the martini. "Here I thought we were done with the big dramatic reveals."

She knows it's not smart to be this reckless with alcohol, when it's been this long since their heyday of undergrad, but she lets Maison put another martini in front of her, lets the conversation relax a bit.

Lets herself lean against Maison a bit more, until his arm is around her waist and she's all but resting her head against his shoulder, warm. Lets herself laugh as Gurlien and Chloe snipe at each other, as Maison and Gurlien trade stories like actual friends. Lets her mind wander away from the drama, away from the fear earlier in the day, until everything is just a bit softer and kinder.

Until everything almost feels normal once more.