Clarity
Her phone rang just as she reached the top of the stairs, knocking lightly on the door of Steven’s apartment. He opened it almost instantly, his phone to his ear, mouth slightly agape in surprise. “I just realised I never gave you my address.”
Zara flushed a little, deflecting with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I don’t need one. I have excellent detective skills.”
Steven grinned, his face practically lighting up the dim hallway. “Well, detective, since you found me, you better come in.” He shuffled aside, holding the door open for her like the perfect gentleman he was, ushering her inside. “I’m sorry it’s so messy, I tried to tidy up but – ”
“I like it this way,” Zara decided, taking in the room around her. Piles and piles of books lined every shelf, little Egyptian-themed trinkets covering every surface. She grinned at him. “You’re like one of those birds that collects shiny things for their nest.”
Steven closed the door behind him, blushing a little. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Not at all,” Zara turned on her heels, gazing at every little corner. “I would’ve absolutely killed for a place like this when I was in…” She trailed off suddenly, but he clearly understood – the words the Red Room hanging in the air. But this was Steven, and he was never one to push.
“Marc is more of a minimalist,” Steven mused, and she realised he was watching her intently. “In his words, I apparently ‘have too much shit’.”
Zara smirked, giving a dramatic roll of her eyes. “Why does that not surprise me?”
She glanced at him as he laughed, properly taking him in for the first time since she’d arrived. He looked awful. Well, he was Steven, so he always looked good – but he looked like he hadn’t slept in the entire month since he and Marc had disappeared. She knew the feeling. Her own dreams had been haunted since that fateful night in the Pyramid, the endless black eyes and jackals that waited for her every time Zara closed her eyes were enough to have her never wanting to sleep again. The bags under Steven’s eyes were more pronounced than ever, his dark curls dishevelled as though he’d just taken a tumble down the stairs. He noticed her concerned gaze, shaking his head. “It’s been an interesting day.”
“I’ll say,” Zara agreed, stepping towards him tentatively. “You really don’t remember anything about where you’ve been for the past month? Nothing at all?”
“Nothing at all,” he confirmed, and his frame seemed to crumple inward slightly. A pang of pain shot through her, and Zara put her hand on his arm. His eyes stayed trained on the ground. “I don’t think Marc is dealing with it well. All this possibly-having-another-alter stuff.”
She felt her stomach drop to her feet. “What makes you think that?”
“He’s been really quiet. Usually he’s in the back of my head constantly, or wanting to come to the front, but – ” He sighed, despondent. “He hasn’t come out all day, since we were on the phone with you this morning. Not even when I phoned my mum, to tell her I was all right.”
“And what about you?” Zara asked. “How are you doing with all of this?”
Steven let out a wry laugh. “I’m aces.”
She raised her eyebrows. “That’s not your real answer.”
“Really, Zara, I’m just being dramatic. I’m all right,” Steven assured her, half-hearted as it was. “It’s Marc I’m worried about.”
“Look at me.” Zara inclined her head, not bothering to hide the fact that she didn’t believe him for a second. “Look at me in the face and tell me you’re really all right.”
His eyes flicked to her briefly, before fixing themselves back on the floor. “You don’t have to worry about me – ”
“Steven,” she brought a hand to his chin, gently turning his head to face her. Finally his dark eyes met hers, brimming with worry. “You don’t need to lie to me, Steven. I care about you. Both of you.”
He seemed to lighten, a hint of humour in his voice. “You know, Marc probably heard you say that.”
She snorted, dropping her hand. “Don’t let it go to his head, okay?”
“Never.” Then he broke their shared gaze, walking across the room to drop down on the end of his bed. “Sorry, I know I’m hopeless. I mean, the museum sacked me, and now I’ve somehow got two fish, and waking up here just made me feel absolutely bonkers. I just…I don’t even know where to start with all of this.”
Zara nodded, sitting down next to him. “Don’t beat yourself up. I should’ve known something was wrong when we were in that chamber. I shouldn’t have let you two leave after Marc shot Harrow, but – ” she cut off, feeling Steven’s gaze on her like a weight. “I don’t know, something about that whole situation just felt…off.”
Steven frowned, perplexed. “How do you mean?”
“After Khonshu told Marc to kill Harrow and he refused, I don’t know for sure, but something was different.” Zara stared at the ground, both afraid to tell him more but unable to stop. “Marc just didn’t look like himself. Even his voice sounded a bit different. He still sounded American, but the accent was slightly off. And there was this look in his eyes – ” Finally she looked at him, brows furrowed in concern. “Right after he shot Harrow, he went through a portal. I was too far away to make it there in time, but I assumed you two went back to the safe house.”
Steven released a breath. “But we weren’t there.”
“No,” Zara shook her head. “And then I tried to look for you in London, but you weren’t here either. I called and called, but neither of you ever picked up.” She sat back on the bed, sighing. “I assumed you’d left for a reason, but I never found out what it was.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of the problem, innit?” Steven muttered, laughing dryly. “We have no idea why any of this has happened. Or what this other bloke wants.”
Zara sat forward again, watching him intently. “But you think that’s what it is? That there’s another alter?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense, right?” Steven reasoned. “And I’ve been through this before – quite recently, I might add, but Marc – the last time he went through anything remotely close, was that fugue state when he was in the military. I think it’s bringing back a lot of bad memories for him.” Suddenly Steven seemed lost in his thoughts, like his mind was working overtime. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. “It never gets easier though, losing parts of your life like that. Whole days…weeks…they just become holes in your mind.”
Holes in your mind. Zara had had plenty of times where she’d had no control over her own body – her actions, her words – but there had never been a point where she hadn’t been aware of what was going on. The Red Room’s mind control had always left them conscious. Always persistently, horribly aware of what the widows were being forced to do, against their will. But this was different, she knew – she couldn’t imagine the confusion Steven and Marc must’ve felt when they’d woken up back in this apartment alone, when seemingly moments before they’d been in Egypt, with herself and Khonshu. Speaking of…
“Have you heard from Khonshu?” She asked quickly, jumping on the thought. “Maybe he knows what happened?”
Steven shook his head. “Haven’t heard a peep from ol’ pigeon-man. Neither Marc nor I could even summon the suit,” he ran a hand over his face, exasperated. “Haven’t so much as heard his annoying voice in our head since we woke up. It’s like he’s disappeared. Which, don’t get me wrong, I don’t miss the old bird, but – ” his eyes widened. “It’s also bloody unnerving, that it’s happened at the same time as this other bloke’s come into the picture.”
“Maybe he does have something to do with this,” Zara pondered. “I’d be willing to bet he at least knows about this other person.”
“Well, good luck finding him,” Steven’s voice was resigned, with a hint of pissed off. “He’s gone M.I.A and he seems to be giving us the silent treatment.”
Zara slowly released a breath, leaning back on her hands. “So, what now?”
“Now,” Steven shifted, moving to stand. “I drink about eighteen cups of coffee and never fall asleep again.”
Zara caught his hand before she had time to think about it, causing Steven to whirl in surprise. They both stared at their hands for a moment, fingers intertwined. Zara suddenly dropped hers, her words flowing out of her a mile-a-minute. “You can’t do that Steven, it’s not good for you.”
Steven took a moment to register her words. “Well…I can’t go to sleep. What if the other bloke comes out to play?”
“I mean, they came out to play when you were awake in the tomb, so,” she shrugged, somewhat apologetically. “Not to be a downer, but I don’t think it’s going to make much difference if you stay awake. If they want to front, they will. And besides, I’ll be here with you the whole time.” She flashed him a devilish grin. “I’m sure I can handle them.”
Steven shook his head. “I can’t make you do that.”
“You’re not making me do anything,” Zara replied. “I’m offering.”
He held her gaze for a moment, hopeful eyes lingering on her, before shaking his head again. “No, no – I can’t have you put your life on hold for me. Or Marc. And you know how he gets when you try to argue with him.”
“I can also handle Marc,” Zara quipped, trying to keep her tone light, for Steven’s sake. “He hasn’t won an argument against me yet.”
Steven paused for a moment, then flashed her that contagious grin of his. “He says he begs to differ.”
Zara narrowed her eyes. “He’s also a sore loser, I see.”
Steven practically burst out laughing, flooding Zara’s chest with warmth at the sight. “I think he might come out just to fight you on that subject.”
“Well, I’m here all night,” Zara announced, spread her hands theatrically. “And I’m not putting my life on hold – I was going to have to come back to London for a job, anyway.”
“A job?”
“Well, jobs, plural. First one is tomorrow,” Zara confirmed, giving a dismissive wave of her hand. “But you can come with me for that, so I can keep an eye on you.”
Steven’s mouth quirked up, wiggling his fingers theatrically. “Is it, like, some James Bond-type deal?”
She leaned in. “If I told you about it, I’d have to kill you.”
Steven’s eyes flew wide. “Really?”
Zara laughed, giving a fond shake of her head. “No, not really. I mean, Marc would probably have to be the one to come out if it does go awry, but I should be fine. It’s never gone too haywire before.” He opened his mouth to reply, but she beat him to it. “It’s late, and you look like you haven’t slept since the Great Pyramid. You should really get some sleep, Steven.”
Steven opened his mouth to argue, then seemed to think better of it, sauntering somewhat dejectedly over to his bed. Perhaps her stubbornness was working as a tactic, after all. He did look at her with concern, though, as he begrudgingly adjusted his pillows. “What about you? You must be tired as well, after that flight.”
“I’ll be fine,” Zara waved a hand, brushing him off. The images she saw every night flooded to the front of her mind – jackals, scales, endless tunnels into the abyss – but she knew neither Steven nor Marc needed the stress of that knowledge. Besides, dreams were just that – dreams. “But you need rest. I’m a light sleeper anyway, so I’ll wake up if the other guy gets up and moves around.” She snatched her bag off the ground, pulling out a sleeping bag. “I’ll just sleep on the floor.”
Steven whirled on her, incredulous. “You’re joking, right?”
Zara stilled, throwing him a sideways glance. “About what?”
“You can’t sleep on wooden floorboards!”
“I have a sleeping bag,” Zara reasoned, lifting the bag up to show him. “It’s not that uncomfortable.” She shrugged, nonchalant. “I’ve slept on worse.”
“Of course you have,” Steven muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God, between you and Marc – I don’t know what I’m going to do with you two.”
Zara studied him. “All right then, what do you suggest?”
“There’s a perfectly good bed right here. You sleep in my bed, and I’ll go with the eighteen-cups-of-coffee plan and stay up.”
“All night?” Zara queried, and he nodded. “I’m not going to be able to sleep if you’re just up and moving around, anyway, you know?”
“Well – ”
“So it’s either we both go to sleep, or we both stay awake. And you need to sleep,” She dropped her pack, gesturing to the bed. “So go to bed, and I’ll sleep down here. That’s not a request, Steven.”
He watched her for a moment, and she could’ve sworn she saw something spark in his eyes. Finally he sighed, plonking himself down on the bed. “Bossy.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Zara retorted playfully. Finally she unrolled her sleeping bag, the two of them climbing somewhat dejectedly into their respective sleeping arrangements. Zara heard Steven buckle his ankle restraint, switching off the lights. “Good night, Steven.”
He sighed. “Good night, Zara. Sweet dreams.”
The darkness swallowed the room, and Zara tried not to shift too much in her sleeping bag. She had exaggerated a little about how comfortable the arrangement was in order to make him feel better, but it was true that she’d slept in worse places. Besides, if the man sleeping above her did get up during the night, she’d know about it. He’d practically trip over her to get anywhere else in the apartment. Really, the only way she could be closer to him is if she was in the bed next to him –
Don’t even start, Zara chided herself, squeezing her eyes shut. Just shut up and go to sleep.
The silence, however, only lasted about twenty minutes. Steven had tossed and turned endlessly in that time, and when he finally stilled, Zara thought he must’ve finally fallen asleep. But then his voice came through the dark, the soft, deep notes causing her eyes to fly open instantly. “Zara?”
She rolled on her side, the cold floorboards pressing into her shoulder. “Yes, Steven?”
“Thank you for coming.”
“You’re welcome,” She replied, her voice surprisingly gentle, even to her. She hesitated. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“I – I don’t know,” Steven murmured, and she tried not to flinch. “I guess neither Marc nor I really had our wits about us today. But I appreciate it,” He paused. “And I know he does, too.”
She smiled into the dark. “I know.”
The silence returned for a few more moments, and Zara could swear she heard his breathing quicken slightly. Steven broke it again, his voice reaching her through the dark. “Zara?”
“Yes?”
“You don’t have to sleep on the ground, if you don’t want to.”
She froze, her heart thrumming in her chest. “Are you asking me to come up there with you?”
“Yeah,” he replied, and then seemed to second-guess himself, his words running over each other in quick succession. “I mean, only if you want to – I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”
…Fuck it.
Without another thought she shuffled out of her sleeping bag, making her way to the bed, feeling her way through the dark. She felt Steven shift as she climbed into the bed blindly, her limbs brushing against his in the blackness. Finally they lay side by side and she rolled to face him, a grin tracing her lips. “The other guy will never get past me now.”
Steven chuckled, and she felt him shift, turning to face her. “He won’t know what hit him, the poor bugger.”
His hand found her face, the brush of his fingers warm against her skin, and she shivered slightly under the covers. She reached out a hand, finding him through the darkness, her fingers lightly grazing his jaw, his lips. “Found you,” she whispered.
He didn’t answer, instead he leaned forward, his lips brushing hers. Warmth filled her stomach as she leaned into him, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her close. Her thumb traced his jaw, the kiss gentle and warm and as sweet as honey. Finally she pulled away, her voice low. “We need to sleep, now.”
“I know.” His voice was already soft with exhaustion, his arms still wrapped around her. “I’m just so glad you’re here, Zara.”
The sound of her name from his lips sent warmth flooding through her, threatening to undo her resolve then and there. In a moment his breathing slowed, and she realised he was asleep. Zara allowed herself to melt into him, revelling in the cocoon of warmth that was his body, hoping that the jackals wouldn’t visit her tonight.
“Me, too.”