The Foul Mouth and the Headless Hunny (The King Henry Tapes) Page 2

  They also have pretty friendly personalities. I once met the hydro-anima concentrate that lived in the Mississippi and she wasn’t too bad. Didn’t like Meteyos, but I couldn’t blame her for that. Tell ya the truth: I think they’re mostly lonely. So the minute you show up, they put on their Sunday best and bring out the good silver.

  This little shit though . . .

  I noticed him right off the bat.

  Again, any time I mention anima sensing I compare it to sight, but we’ll just say it’s the closest thing. At least for me. Pocket smells anima, if you can believe that. Not too bad at it too. Of course, Vicky Welf is the best I’ve ever seen. She can tell you a person’s discipline just by looking at them. Or if they have the Mancy or not too.

  Ceinwyn was really pissed when Vicky didn’t join the Recruiters after her graduation, especially since Vicky had actually wanted to before Mamma Welf drew in the reins.

  I’m told Ceinwyn cursed out Moira Welf right in front of the entire Learning Council.

  Shit went down.

  But enough sidetracking.

  I saw this concentrate hanging around in the dirt outside the house. The whole area was thick with cast off geo-anima, but at the center there was just a huge glob of brown aura that couldn’t be anything other than a concentrate. It was maybe four feet deep and, as I neared the last step of the patio, it woke up and started doing figure-eights.

  Kind of like a dog chasing his own tail.

  “Hey, Mini-Meta, what you doing attacking people?” I asked it, no clue if it could understand me.

  It did a few more figure-eights and then stopped, shivering in anticipation.

  “I’m okay now, you can go home,” I tried.

  I swear . . . if a fairy can wag its tail, then this one was.

  I sighed, studying it. “Let me guess, Meteyos sent you to watch on me permanently?”

  A single figure-eight.

  Just fucking great.

  “Right. Can you stop attacking people now that I’m awake?”

  A figure-eight.

  “Good. Then just . . . hang out and don’t pee on the carpet.”

  [CLICK]

  Task One: finished.

  Task Two: up to bat.

  As in: Crazy Old Bat.

  Being that they were newly minted Asylum staff, Miranda and Val’s house was one of the smaller and newer houses farthest away from the center of the grounds. Still a free house, still nicer than I had back in Fresno, but . . . location, location, location.

  I had myself some walking to do through the neighborhood.

  Damn, it was weird being back.

  It was a school day, almost the end of the year, so everyone would be giving an end push towards the triple event of the Jobs Fair, Finals Week, and Graduation.

  Val and me must have slept in longer than I thought, since the sun was a good ways into the sky. 10AM maybe? Good, I could have a talk with the Lady and then have some lunch in the Cafeteria.

  What day was it?

  Shit . . . I didn’t know.

  Please let it be Friday. Please, please let me get some fish tacos.

  So limey, so peppery . . . one day I’ll steal the recipe, one day!

  But not today.

  Got to talk to the Lady.

  Got to lie to the Lady.

  Not like I’ve never done it before, but not about things this important.

  World-Breakers.

  Dragons.

  Paine.

  Couldn’t tell them . . .

  Didn’t trust them.

  Not even Ceinwyn . . . especially not Ceinwyn if anything Paine had said was true. Week before and I would’ve told you I trust Ceinwyn more than anyone else. But now . . .

  How much are you lying to all these students? How much are you lying to us still?

  Someone laughing brought me out of my ruminating.

  I glanced up, then over.

  Eva Reti stood on her patio, shaking her head at me. “Look what the cat dragged in,” she teased.

  I froze in place, stunned. “Hey,” I said stupidly.

  Eva’s tiny, barely over five feet tall. She’s one of the few women in my life I ever had to kiss down. Black hair cut short, eyes a pretty gray that reflected the sun. If she even weighed one-hundred pounds it was from the muscle on her. She had a tomboy love of sports and camping and all things physical.

  Guess that’s why we eventually got physical ourselves.

  It was never serious between us . . . then it was . . . then it was off. Some friends with benefit rom-com shit, only with an amicable—if not romantic—ending.

  I hadn’t seen her since graduation.

  Now there she was.

  Random Number Generator fucking me good and hard.

  She walked over and stopped in front of me, still smiling. She barely came to my chin. “I don’t know if I should comment on all the blood on your clothes or that you smell like a whole bedful of sex.”

  “Val,” I explained.

  “Again?” she laughed.

  I only shrugged. Damn it was good to see her. Eva’s just easy to be around. She’s kind of one of the guys . . . only . . . with boobs. Tiny, perky, lovely boobs. She can ride any horse you put in front of her, start a fire with a twig and some string, do twenty pull-ups, splint a broken bone, and hit a target with a throwing knife from twenty yards.

  Oh, and she can burp the alphabet.

  Talk about a major turn on.

  Horrible cook though.

  That’s how we started hanging out in Hex. She lived in the graduate apartment next to me and she smelled my cooking.

  Good thing I can call those memories good and not worry about Isabel being a part of them.

  “What about the clothes?” she asked, poking a finger through a hole in my coat.

  “Saying you don’t know? I remember how fast the grape vine works.”

  Eva shook her head. “Just got in last night from an assignment.”

  “Ah . . . what are you doing exactly?”

  She punched a nerve in my shoulder and my whole arm went dead. “Tell me about the bloody clothes, Lover Boy!”

  “You first.”

  “I’m with ESLED.”

  “I fought the Curator and lived. ESLED, doing what?”

  She gasped. “The Curator?”

  “ESLED, doing what?” I repeated.

  “If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” she muttered, distracted. She put a hand on my chest, concerned. “Are you okay?”

  “Good as new.”

  Better than new really. Anima felt . . . odd . . . ever since I left the Geo Realm.

  Would take some experimenting to figure it out.

  “What happened?”

  I threw her evasions back at her, “if I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

  “Not fair!” she whined, hitting my other arm and making it go dead as well.

  Like I said: physical.

  You have no idea.

  “Need to talk with the Lady and Ceinwyn so . . . good seeing you, Eva.”

  She beamed up at me. “I’d hug you, but you stink.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m marked up and tied up good and plenty.”

  “Try not to cry too much when she breaks your heart this time!” she called after me as I walked away.

  “I didn’t cry,” I mumbled, “I got really fucking drunk.”

  [CLICK]

  I kicked open the Lady’s front door.

  She had a house as close to the school without actually being in the school as you could get. It was called the Dean’s Mansion but, from what I understood, only the guy who raised her, some douchebag Welf ancestor, and the Lady had ever lived in it. Really nice house. Too good for an old crone. Others were bigger, but only Plutarch had one equal to it in distance to the school. Don’t even get me started on that bastard . . .

  Hadn’t seen him since I graduated either and didn’t plan on rectifying the matter.

  Bastard can find another replacement. I hav
e a world to save.

  The Lady wasn’t at her customary spot in a recliner next to her TV, so close to it you could reach out and touch it. Only other place she would be was outside by her pond, which had been vacant when I walked up, in a meeting with the Learning Council, or in bed.

  There were a couple stories in the house, but the Lady had moved into the bottom bedroom, being that she was likely to break a hip on the stairs. When you’re one-hundred and a billion you have to be careful.

  I headed for the bedroom.

  With my luck, she’ll be dead and I’ll have to break the news to everyone.

  I heard some noise.

  Not dead then.

  “Hey, old bag! We need to talk!” I yelled before opening her door.

  Fuck me.

  I slammed the door shut.

  Mentally scarred.

  For life.

  I could not unsee . . .

  “Knock next time, you stupid shit!” Fines Samson called from inside the room.

  He and the Lady . . .

  My eyes . . . they burn . . .

  Balls shouldn’t droop like that . . .

  Boobs shouldn’t lie next to you on the bed . . .

  Vaginas shouldn’t . . .

  My eyes . . .

  Burn . . .

  [CLICK]

  I left the Lady’s house in the knowledge that I’d never be able to look at her again without having flashbacks.

  Paine hadn’t given me PTSD, but that shit had.

  Maybe I could find a Mindmaster to wipe it out of my brain . . . if I only trusted anyone enough to mess with my brain that was.

  Seriously, I might never get a stiffy again.

  Them balls going side to side like a clock pendulum . . .

  I shook my head, banishing the thought.

  It never happened.

  Just like my journey through the Geo Realm.

  Yeah, that’s right. Meteyos ain’t a dragon. Poug don’t exist. Fines Samson and the Lady don’t have decrepit, Crypt Keeper sex every morning.

  I threw myself into nostalgia as I kept on walking to the grounds proper. You ever gone back to your high school after you graduated? Same feeling here. That sense that you’d conquered and left it behind, that you knew absolutely every little twist and turn the students still at the place would have to deal with.

  Like rewatching your favorite movie.

  No surprises, just some expectation and contentment at a journey relived.

  Yet . . . you occasionally notice something new.

  The ‘No food and drinks’ sign on the Library doors had been replaced. The road in front of the Admin building had been repaved. More colorful flowers had been planted in the Park.

  All the students looked smaller.

  Of course.

  Already had that sense for the Singles and Bi’s by the time I’d been about to graduate the place, but now I felt the same for every single one of them—even the Ultra Heps. Don’t know anything, you poor bastards. Only a few years separated me from them, yet what a few years, eh?

  Place current King Henry up against Graduate Student King Henry and I’d thrash the little shit. Two years between them, but it felt like a lifetime. What would the next year bring? Paine? Annie B? Vega? Meteyos?

  Two years and now I’m lucky enough to have people in my life who want to kill me!

  People who want to save me too, I suppose. Annie B went in both categories. Meteyos too. JoJo was back in my life. T-Bone was a friend I could count on. Even if along with the lightning bolts I had to count on him nagging me about destroying property.

  Sometimes it felt like the guy was Quilt, Raj, and Miranda rolled into one. He didn’t know I was aware of Ceinwyn making him watch out for me . . . or watch out for the people of Fresno from me. But I did. I just didn’t hold it against him. Better T-Bone than Ceinwyn herself. It’s bad enough I have to keep breaking phones to sideline her influence . . . and that I need to have a talk with Auntie Badass every time something exciting happens in my life.

  I wouldn’t go to her.

  Not this time.

  Let her find me.

  “What are you doing out of class?” a feminine voice asked from behind me. “And what did you do to your coat?”

  I stopped in my tracks again.

  What is it, Ex-Fuckbuddy Day?

  I turned around, flashed my teeth in warning at the woman stalking towards me like she meant to give a student a scolding.

  Naomi’s heels stopped clicking on the pavement, her eyes wide, jaw dropping. She had on dress pants and a forest green blouse that matched her eyes. Curly brown hair, same as always. Skinny, but a lot going on, same as always. She hadn’t changed much; she just dressed about ten years past her age to gain some authority.

  Knew she stayed on as a teacher like Miranda and Debra. Was the only person I wince over doing so. Naomi doesn’t handle authority well. Makes her nosey and spoiled and severe. Teacher’s kid, ya know? Being a teacher calmed Miranda down . . . for Naomi, it had done the opposite.

  “King Henry?” she whispered.

  “In the fucking flesh,” I greeted.

  “What are you . . .” she frowned. “I heard you were hurt helping the Recruiters with something.”

  “Never better.” My lips pulled back even farther, adding, be careful.

  “You shouldn’t be walking through the school grounds,” she snidely pointed out.

  “When I ever care about the rules?”

  Naomi’s lips pressed together. She was about to snap back at me when she realized that all the classroom doors were open to keep them cool. We probably had about one-hundred students listening in on us and two or three teachers. “Why are you being so hostile?”

  “When did you turn into someone who bullies students around?”

  Her shoulders shook. “I do not!”

  “Come on, who you kidding?”

  “I do not!” she whined.

  “And you’re about to throw a tantrum.”

  “If you have business in the Admin building, then go there! But don’t walk through the class areas! I won’t have you distracting the students! You’re a horrible role model!”

  “That we agree on,” I admitted.

  She turned around to stalk away, looking for other prey.

  “Hey, Naomi?”

  She paused.

  “Did we really fuck during Pent or am I just imagining it?”

  She glared at me. “It was the biggest mistake of my life! You . . . you . . . asshole!”

  I shrugged. “Okay, just checking. Even before the time in the Park when your dad caught us?”

  Her whole body shook as she stalked away.

  Poor Naomi. All uptight and cog-like . . . what a waste.

  [CLICK]

  I stopped in at the Cafeteria.

  It was Friday.

  Sometimes you get lucky.

  Unlike Naomi, the Cafeteria ladies were happy to see me. I’d been a big fan of their work for years and they’d always taken pride that I went from a scrawny rat of a fourteen year old to a fully grown—if short—adult male under their care.

  I got a double order of fish tacos to go, a bag of waffle cookies, and two bottles of Dr. Pepper.

  I waved goodbye, heading for my favorite bench on the Mound.

  Ceinwyn was already waiting for me.

  “If it ain’t the Last True Dale,” I said as greeting, handing over one of the soda bottles and the bag of waffle cookies.

  She’s Ceinwyn, so she smiled over me as I sat down beside her. “Feeling better, King Henry?”

  “Much.”

  Her hand came up, thin fingers surprisingly strong as they latched onto my jaw. She forced me to meet those cutting blue eyes. Cutting . . . just like Paine. Not like Paine, not to hurt. To tease, to play. “Don’t ever do that again,” she ordered me, “or I will be very cross with you.”

  “More than usual?”

  “Much more than usual,” she whispered, finally letting go of
me to dig out her snack.

  “I’m sorry, Ceinwyn, but I did what I had to do . . . for the girl.”

  She sighed. “For the girl? If only I believed that.”

  I pulled out my first taco and dug in. I hadn’t eaten for days. Slush will do a lot for your body and might work in place of food, but it doesn’t actually fill your stomach up. I was starving.

  “What’s with that title anyway?” I asked between Taco the First and Taco the Second, “the Last True Dale?”

  Ceinwyn sighed again, appearing tired. Her smile barely stayed in place on her face. “I’m the last of my family line.”

  “I know that. So?”

  “There was a prophecy hundreds of years ago about the line . . . we’re related to Augustus Caesar from one of his by-blows supposedly. People put much more stock in prophecies before we understood how impotent they are. Scientific understanding killed the magic trick.”

  “Augustus Caesar, huh?”

  “The man who beat back the Vampire Embassies and founded an empire in defiance of them.”

  “My great-great-grandfather was killed for running rum.”

  “How lucky to have so little to live up to,” she teased me.

  “Better than having a prophecy in your life, I suppose.”

  “Much,” she said, smile finally dropping.

  I went back to Taco the Second. Ceinwyn took her time with her waffle cookies. The students appeared from classrooms, heading for the Cafeteria and then whatever place they chose to hang out during lunch.

  The Ultra students made for the Mound, one group after another. They saw King Henry Price and Ceinwyn Dale having a chat, word spread, and every single one of them turned right on around to be elsewhere. It’s got to be the first time in the history of the Mound that no Ultra had lunch on it. Not that I really know the history of the Mound. I suppose they built it up for the Winter War.

  “I cast a prophecy once.”

  “Divination?”

  “No . . . full prophecy. When I used the baton thingy in Fresno. Had to find a source for that much geo-anima and blam: prophecy.”

  Ceinwyn very much wasn’t smiling now. “Why have I never heard of this?”

  I shrugged. “It was gibberish. All jumbled up.”

  “Was Anne there?”

  “Yeah . . . was a bit busy reattaching her arm though.”