Between books - Milo (Patreon)

The waves rolled over each other in a mimicry of a storm, warning off whoever entertained the thought of walking out towards the desolate sea. A thick brine of sea salt coated the rocks as kelp and dead eels smacked against their unmovable walls.  Standing above it all, was Milo. Hands in his pockets as he looked down at the roll of the Deep and the churning underbelly of a beast waiting to swallow him whole.

“Haven’t heard from you in a bit.”

His lips twitched. He hadn’t heard the crunch of boots as they snuck up behind him.  They had gotten better over the years. Lighter on their feet.  “Been a while, yeah?”

Next to him, a lithe form stopped.  They were dressed in their typical black pants and cropped top with the black leather harness across their midsection. Their hair fell across their eyes in a blunt cut, darker now with age. Or damp. It was fucking cold out tonight.

“How’ve you been, Rooke?” he asked.

“Better than you.” Piercing green eyes turned to him.  He could count three knives on their person but they weren’t reaching for a single blade.  He had requested they come at peace and hoped that they hadn’t accepted a contract before then.

“Nose has been broken since I last saw you.”

“Twice,” Rooke responded.  “What do you want, Milo? Entire market wants your head on a pike. I don’t really fancy being near you right now. People are going to associate me with your ass and that’s just bad for business.”

“Oh, I don’t know.  Once was you liked my ass,” he smirked.

“It’s flat and bony. Reminded me of a fish bone pancake.” Turning, they quirked a brow towards him.  The ring above their brow had been ripped out leaving a nasty scar. “Killed two people to get here without a tail.  Speak, Next. Or else I’ll shove you over this cliff and delight in the way the eels eat you.”

The threat somehow made Milo feel far more comfortable. At least he knew they were taking things seriously. “I’m gonna leave the market for a bit. Got a few things I need to suss out and I don’t really think the answers are here. So, I need you to keep an eye on a few things for me.”

“Like?”

Turning, he handed them a stack of folded papers and a pouch of coin. “There is an unmarked grave. Clock hasn’t started ticking and I don’t know if it ever will, but it’s an important one.  I’m a bit worried it's going to be messed with.”

“Who the fuck would mess with a grave?” Rooke asked, taking the papers and looking them over. It was a map to the burial site. Rooke whistled long and low. “Let me rephrase that. Who the fuck is going to mess with a grave in the Frankenstein domain.”

“You’d be surprised.  I left my old necklace on it.  Make sure no one disturbs it and keep track of anyone that comes by. Far as I know, only Belladonna Malady, Gabriel Caine, Hazel and Malcolm know it's there.”

Rooke did a double take. “Mal came back?”

“Yup. The bastard.”  Milo kept seeing him too. Just around the corner. Arriving wherever Milo was about to leave. As far as he knew, the older man had caught sight of him yet.  There was a dull sort of amusement in the fact that Milo had gotten better than him over the past ten years.

“Why aren’t you having him watch the grave?”

“Because the asshole is tailing me.  I’m not getting within his reach.  I don’t need a heart to heart right now, Rooke. I need to get shit done. Mal will want to talk about feelings and hold hands.  I don’t have time for that.”

Tucking the papers in the back of their pants, Rooke tossed the coin bag up and down, feeling the heft of it. “You know, for someone that has lost yet another lover, you don’t look that broken up over it.” Milo shifted at their words. “Yeah, I heard about it.  Also heard rumor that they were the Night Market themselves? That why you need me to keep track of that grave?”  Milo didn’t answer. He wouldn’t.  Too many ears could fall on his words and the last thing he needed was to be at fault for yet another one of the market's deaths.  “Come on, Milo. You aren’t this cold-hearted. Not when it comes to the ones who matter.”

It was strange to hear it out loud again. A sentiment that he had grown up on, really. Milo was cold-hearted. One of the most cold-hearted bastards in all the Market. He had certainly proven that through the years and had worked his way to the top because of that reputation.  But when it came to his own, the ones he held dear, he fell apart at the slightest provocation. Except this last time. He hadn’t known where the hell he’d gotten the strength. Or if it was just because his own selfish desire would have gotten the rest of them killed.

“What do you want me to do? Throw myself a pity party? That’s a level of selfishness I’m not entirely into.”

“Interesting take.”

Milo laughed. “Is it? I made my bed, Rooke. I’ll lie in it. Out of the people involved in that scenario, I’m the last one that gets to be upset.”

“How magnanimous,” they commented.  They stared out at the ocean, watching the undertow.  How many lives had the Deep claimed? How many had been deserving of the gentle hands of death and how many had been forced there because the world worked in horrid lines of murky gray.  “I’ll take the job if you answer me a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did you love them?”

Milo didn’t flinch. It was the question that had been hanging in the air for so long now. He fucking hated it and yet it haunted his dreams. When he was able to sleep. “I’ve said those words to exactly two people in my life. If I ever say those words out loud again, it will be because they are standing in front of me.  Until then, those words are my own.”

Rooke shook her head. “Need to get you a shirt that actually buttons. Think the chill in the air is causing you to become stupid.”

Milo snorted.  “I’m just done, Rooke. I’m fucking done. I’m done being controlled. I think I’ve been playing someone else's game my entire life. And if there is one thing I realized after losing someone important to me for the second time in my life, it’s that following everyone else's rules has given me nothing but heartache. And it's certainly done jack shit for the world as a whole. So,” standing, he bowed to them with an exaggerated flourish and a self-serving grin. “Milo Next. Gatekeeper of the Night Market.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job I need to go do.”

“You’re fucking what?”

“Watch over them. Give Mal a wink for me.  Make sure Hazel is protected.”

Rooke looked as if they were going to throw a knife right between his eyes. “You’re the fucking Gatekeeper? You asshole! You are so not responsible enough to have that shitty job!”

His smiled was far more a grimace than anything else. One full of teeth that stretched eerily across his face.  “Blame Mal. He’s the one that gave it to me.” Then, he stepped backwards, off the face of the cliff and into the ocean below. The water plunged around him. He never did get to look up in time to see if Rooke even looked over the edge to watch his descent. He really hoped their face was one of blinding shock. Meant he still had a few surprises up his sleeve.

The water plumed up around him, tossing him over and over as the selkies eyed him from beyond.  The ocean was growing darker as he sank. A weight that was his entire life finally dragging him down. Blinking, he looked upwards, watching as the light of the moon disappeared until he was left in nothing but complete darkness. No sound. No movement.

Just him and his thoughts.

And for the first time, Milo listened.