Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“You’re not.”
I’m the real monster, you don’t even know—
Kyle rushes up to Tristan right then, wraps him in his arms and squeezes so tight, it aches.
Tristan’s fingers curl, clinging to the back of Kyle’s shirt.
The two don’t let go. For ages, it seems, they stand there in the illusory hall of the sunlit citadel. All of their happiness has returned. Their peace in the forest. The nights on the porch. Stargazing. Talking. Laughing and feeling free. Overcast days when it would rain. Sharing a blanket by the fireplace, stroking one another’s soft hair. Watching the seasons change, leaves to red, to dead, then green and back again.
Kyle and Tristan pull apart, gaze into each other’s eyes.
That’s when Kyle feels a breeze. Cool and crisp, like a kiss of oncoming winter. Refreshing and revitalizing. Bubbles at the top of the head, cascading down to the tips of fingers and toes.
Kyle realizes with a start that it’s Tristan’s happiness.
The first time he’s touched Tristan’s emotions.
He hadn’t discovered his Reach until the day he met both Elias and the morning sun.
“Thank you,” says Kyle, overcome by the sensation.
Tristan tilts his head, not following.
Another set of footsteps come, causing Kyle and Tristan to turn. From down the hallway comes the last person in this evil House of Vegasyn that Kyle wants to see: the tall, gaunt, prim shape of George, with his odd hair, pencil mustache, and thin pursed lips, sauntering forward.
He comes to a stop. “I have been sent to retrieve our guest Kyle and escort him back to Las Vegas.”
“Cut the bullshit,” says Kyle, “we’re in Las Vegas. That’s what this is called. Not some ‘Domain of Vegasyn’ or whatever you guys make-believe to feel special.”
“Quite mouthy after just having been saved from a death sentence,” observes George, for a moment losing his soft, mild-mannered demeanor. Quite abruptly he seems over it, his stony eyes flashing with a new thought. “Oh, I forgot to ask you. Do you know if Patrick was able to secure my item for me?”
Kyle squints at him. “Patrick? Who’s Patrick?”
“The human who came to your little town of Nowhere, the human who didn’t belong. See, I sent him on a mission there to retrieve something special for me. I gave him the very specific instructions to steal it, as I wished no record to exist of it being purchased. That makes it more special to me, to know it was retrieved with a sense of urgency, maybe even a little terror.”
Kyle stares at George. He takes a step forward. “Patrick is his name? You mean to tell me—”
George lifts his eyebrows. “Oh? Does it ring a bell now?”
“The pawnshop thief? The one who was in the video with me? Whose ear I bit off? That guy is Patrick?”
“Yes, of course. Wasn’t it obvious who I was talking about? So do you know if he retrieved the item I sent him there to steal, by chance? It was an hourglass.”
Kyle can’t believe his ears. “A … An hourglass …?”
“With red sand. My sources told me the item made its way out to your town. I really want it,” George carries on, his upper lip twitching, mustache dancing. “It will look so pretty on my shelf next to my blue one. I collect them. I have two hundred and two. This was to become my two hundred and th—”
Kyle is upon a startled George at once, grabbing hold of his suit vest, pressing him to the wall. “Are you telling me all of this started because of you? You threatened that man’s life, holding that man’s wife and child hostage, ruining his life and mine, over a fucking hourglass??”
George’s face twists upward in thought. “Wife and child, you say? Oh!” He snaps his fingers as it comes to him. “Yes, now I remember them. But no, they’re gone already. Patrick took much too long and I hadn’t had my supper yet.”
Kyle lets go of George at once, aghast, mouth hanging. He backs away, his heel hits the bench, his knees bend, he drops.
George gently smoothes out his clothes, as if even still not understanding Kyle’s outrage, oblivious to the way Kyle’s hands tremble or why he was grabbed at all. “Anyway, I suppose I will have to enlist someone else’s help someday. I do not wish to go there myself. That is so … banal. It is much more rousing if it is stolen. Hm.” He studies Kyle for a moment. “Perhaps I will leave it be for now. You need more time with your old friend.” He glances at Tristan, for a moment appearing curious. Then he flicks his eyes away. “Really wish I had that hourglass. It will bother me for days and days.”
He walks away, heading off down the long stone hallway, then vanishing around a corner.