Page 33 of Mortis

“Who the fuck is that?” He pointed directly at Kael.

Kael, who was still standing beside the dining table, because apparently he’d gotten back up at some point, and now the two of them stared at one another.

Arlo looked confused.

Kael looked equally confused.

I looked at the half-cooked human steak in the frying pan, then back at them.

Honestly, I couldn’t blame either of them. I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on anymore myself.

“Christ, you’re fucking ginormous.”

Arlo’s observation seemed to break the tension. I finally exhaled as I flipped the steak, and he turned to me.

“How’d you go out for an alarm call and come back with a man the size of a mountain?” he asked. “Do you have some super-secret pulling skills I’m not aware of? Because you’re a shit wingman.”

I gave him a blank look. “Just because I stopped you getting off with Big John from the bookies doesn’t make me a shit wingman.”

“I’d argue it does.”

“He was fifty-two.”

“And?”

I transferred the steak to a plate and left it to rest. “He’s a drunk and he’s got two kids he doesn’t see.”

Arlo crossed his arms. “I’m not applying to be Stepdad of the Year. I just wanted to get off.”

I rolled my eyes. “You can do better than that.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

Kael watched the exchange silently, his head turning back and forth like he was watching Wimbledon.

Arlo jerked his chin towards him. “So? How’d this happen?”

I sprinkled cracked pepper into the juices left in the pan before adding the onions. As they softened, I reached into a cupboard and retrieved a bottle of dark rum. A family had given it to us after we organised their great-aunt’s funeral. Neither Arlo nor I drank rum, so it had spent months gathering dust in the back of the cupboard.

At least it was finally useful.

“He was sleeping in the alley behind the pound shop,” I lied. “Looked cold and miserable. So I brought him home.”

Arlo’s expression softened immediately. Given how he’d arrived in Blackthorn, I wasn’t surprised. “You’re so much like your grandad, Teds.”

I shrugged and tilted the pan so the juices pooled, then I turned the heat up. A splash of rum hit the onions, and the pan erupted with a loud whoosh of flames. All three of us jumped, and Kael actually gasped.

Arlo turned towards him while I tried not to set fire to the kitchen. “Who are ya, then?”

Kael’s eyes widened. He looked at me, so I gave him a subtle nod.

“I’m a vegetarian.”

Arlo frowned. I choked on my own spit before forcing out a laugh. The sound was strained, even to my own ears.

“Ha. He’s, uh. . . he’s joking.”

Kael looked at me. I looked at Kael.