CHAPTER 537: PLENTY OF ROOM

Demi sat with Mason’s girlfriend and tried not to fiddle with her hands. She knew it was a nervous tick. She also picked at her nails, chewed her cheek or lip, pinched her leg, or…well, the list went on.

Why were Mason’s women so gorgeous? And confident? Meeting Haley had been hard enough. The woman was like some Barbie creature come to life. And Becky seemed like the kind of girl who was brave before the apocalypse. Now she charged at demons like it was fun.

Here she was just chatting away to another of Mason’s prospective women like this was no big deal. She brushed her hair and sort of waltzed around as she talked about her home in…shit. Where was it? Alabama? Georgia? She couldn’t keep up! Then the girl’s voice went up at the end, followed by silence. A question. Definitely a question.

“Um, yeah,” Demi said. Smile! Remember to smile!

“Right?” Becky said, then laughed, like Demi totally got it. Then she was back to chatting again. By all that was holy this girl could talk!

“So what was it like growin’ up in Oklahoma? At least I think that’s what Mason said.”

Panic. Quiet panic. Demi blinked and took another drink of the terrible wine, and tried to remember how people talked to each other. She was doing it with Mason! Why was it suddenly so hard? But she knew the answer.

She wasn’t safe.

Becky could hate her for trying to be with her man, could think she was weird, could not want her around, could fight and make Mason get rid of her. He wouldn’t just let Demi in if the girls he loved hated her, would he?

No, she knew he wouldn’t. Best case he’d keep her on the outside, living down in some house in Nassau alone, visiting her when he could. He wouldn’t have the heart to leave her, but he’d never truly let her in.

That’s not what she wanted. Though everything about the chaos of living with Mason terrified her, she knew it was something she wanted. A place to belong. People to belong with. Love and friendship and all the rest of the things she’d been starved of even before the game.

“Oh…it was…” Demi knew she took too long to answer, and then trailed off like a weirdo. Oh God she couldn’t do it. She was fighting tears now and oh this was so horrible. “It wasn’t very good,” she squeaked.

“Oh, it’s alright, sweety. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Becky came right over. Right over and gave Demi a one-armed squeeze, like they were friends.

God. Demi liked her better when she was being a bitch. How could she be so nice so fast? Unless it was fake. But Demi looked in the girl’s eyes and knew it wasn’t.

“It’s not you,” she said, but thought, ‘except it kind of is

you’. But it also wasn’t. “It’s just…everything. I’ve been alone…a long time. And then Mason came. And that was…” she wanted to say ‘amazing’ but held herself back. “And then there was everyone else. And it’s just…it’s been a lot.”

“Yeah.” Becky sighed, looking away but still sitting there with her arm around Demi’s back. It actually felt really good. To be touched, or hugged, or just listened to. Another woman to talk to. Except she couldn’t really talk to her, could she? She wasn’t just anyone.

“This is all so complicated,” she said, taking a breath to fight the tears. Then she laughed when she thought about how ridiculous it was. “You know, a week ago, I thought I was gonna die. I kept it together fine.”

“I don’t know how you did.” Becky shook her head. “I ain’t been alone since…” she shrugged. “Well, ever, I guess. Back home on the farm. Even in the tutorial and all that I had my friend Aila. And I had Phuong to take charge. Then Mason saved us.” She met Demi’s eyes and grinned. “You must be real strong, girl. I mean it.”

Strong? It seemed ridiculous. But was she? Sometimes yes. Strong and alone. Her mother called her a ‘bird without a flock’. Always fighting the wind. Free but stubborn, and by herself, always by herself.

“I don’t want to be strong all the time,” she said without thinking. “And I don’t want to be alone.”

Becky took a deep breath and gave her a smile.

“You ever play rummy? I brought some cards from the settlement. Dunno where Mason is or where that boy’s head’s at. But, none of the…you know, other girls, well they don’t like card games and it’s like pullin’ teeth to get ‘em to play.”

“I like card games.” Demi returned the smile, wiping a tear. “I had to make my own games in the swamp. I’d have killed to play solitaire.”

Becky’s friendly smile went wide, and it lit up her whole beautiful face. It made her look so…young! She couldn’t have been more than nineteen.

“Well, I figure, on account of havin’ all this free booze. And since we almost got killed by man-eatin’ demons. Well, I say we don’t worry about Mason, and just play some cards. And get drunk.”

Demi laughed and nodded, trying not to let her heart race out ahead and think ‘maybe we could be friends’. Because it still seemed impossible, their situation ridiculous. But she hoped so. She really did.

“That sounds great.”

**

Mason drank a few cups of tea, failed to solve a bunch of riddles, and listened to some of Phuong’s jokes and war stories. But he didn’t go back to his room. Now they were playing a made-up game with some bone dice they’d found in a drawer.

“Wait, I hadn’t actually thought about this…wasn’t Vietnam like…1960s? 70s? How old were you when you got recruited? I mean you’ve gotta be in your seventies, don’t you?”

“I was eleven,” Phuong said, shrugging when Mason stared. “It was a different time. I didn’t even know who we were fighting, though I thought it was the French. Not that I knew what that meant. I didn’t care. Not about that or anything else. Not for many years.”

Mason let out a breath and rolled the goblin bone dice.

“Daggers with squiggles. I win again.”

Phuong swore under his breath.

“I think maybe you’ve been tricking us about your luck score. And it’s clearly a bloody

dagger.”

“Flying dagger, maybe. This one’s blood. Whatever, we agreed, double squiggles beats everything. Pay up, old man.”

Phuong leaned back and glared, tossing a strip of his coveted, system-generated beef jerky.

“This ‘old man’ is tired. Remind me again why you’re not in your room with two beautiful women, at least one of whom I’m not sure you deserve.”

Mason fidgeted. He played with his bone dice. He opened his mouth then cleared his throat.

“I don’t know what to say to them.” Phuong blinked, then shook, face curling as he laughed. “It’s not funny.”

This just made Phuong laugh even harder.

“The mighty ‘Wolf of the West’,” he eventually said, wiping his eyes. “The immortal avatar of a god. Frightened of two skinny women.”

“I should have played with Carl,” Mason said, finishing his cup before standing up, grabbing his beef-jerky booty with a glare. “Thank you for the tea. And I’m not scared.”

“Oh no,” Phuong said, “you just love herbal tea. And wanted to listen to an old man’s stories. The timing was incidental.”

Mason fought the smile, very pleased to have the old soldier with him, even if he was a smarmy bastard.

“You’re still annoying.”

Phuong grinned as if he took this as a compliment, putting a hand to his back with a groan.

“Oh. And whatever happens, Patron. If you break Miss Rebecca’s heart, my advice may one day lead you to your death.”

Mason met the man’s eyes and raised a brow.

“I’m a hard man to kill, War Minister.”

Phuong’s smug smile made Mason think he’d probably walked right into some verbal trap. The old soldier confirmed it.

“I’ve killed arrogant Americans before.”

Mason grinned, knocking on the wall in thanks before he closed the door to Phuong’s room on the way out. He stood there longer than he should have, running through the scenarios in his mind.

“You girls take the bed,” he muttered. “I’ll sleep on the floor. No that’s fine, stone, dirt, it’s all the same to me now.”

He could almost see Cerebus at him staring with disgust. ‘Gentlemanly’ behavior wasn’t exactly a part of the nature god’s ethos. His ‘guidance’ would be to walk in like he owned the place, order the girls onto the bed, and take turns banging them until he passed out.

Things like ‘emotions’ and ‘intimacy’, not to mention ‘the opinion of others’ weren’t really top of mind Cerebus concerns. And Mason knew he’d maybe so far been influenced by the ‘phases’ and by his patronage. Plus the realities of life and death daily struggles. It made him more impulsive, more physical, less…involved.

But the truth was he cared

. Not just about what these girls thought and wanted, but how they…felt. About him. About their relationship. He wanted them to be happy—except he was so far past the point of normalcy he hardly even understood how they’d be happy, when it meant sharing him with a literal harem of other women.

He’d found something like stability back in Nassau. But that was mostly because of Haley, and because there’d been no time to really stop and think and consider things. And because of phase horniness and there being so few men around he had some…practical advantage.

But time brought normalcy and questions. His situation with Demi had been hot and heavy fast. With Becky it was a lot more…’fun’. Like a young girlfriend you weren’t thinking about marriage with, not because you didn’t love her, but because you were still both kids without a clue.

There was no ‘just having fun’ with Demi, no matter what she said. Obviously it was fun, in a ‘this girl is draining me dry’ kind of way. But when they got home and comfortable, Mason fully expected Demi to consider herself a ‘wife’ in no time at all. And that was before Gaia had got involved. With the scheming nature goddess whispering or influencing things just like Cerebus, who knew what might happen.

So what did that mean to their ‘family’ dynamic?

Mason eventually built up the courage to walk to his room and start finding out. He hoped they were just sort of comfortably asleep on the bed. That way he could lie down and escape the whole thing, maybe even all the way until they got back home and he had Haley to talk to.

He opened the door and found the girls still in their towels, hair still wrapped. They were both on the bed, hunched over something in between them, locked in concentration. Becky was apparently so comfortable she’d let her towel half open, the thing scrunched up enough it didn’t really cover her ass.

“You gotta be cheatin’,” she said. “You ain’t lost once. Not once!” She tossed a playing card down in disgust, then looked up and noticed Mason. She seemed torn between covering herself and gesturing at the cards as if to say ‘you see what I mean?’

“Oh shit. Yer blurry. I might be drunk.”

Demi looked back with a naughty grin and gave him a big smile. He felt his tension starting to drain—as well as a comfort in the room and between the girls, amplified by actual magic emotion coming out of Demi. He came forward looking at the cards.

“How much of that goblin piss swill did you drink?”

“Not much.” Becky pushed a jug under a pillow, which made it clink as it struck a different jug. “Also. I need to pee.”

She hopped up with a flash of skin, and an ‘oops’ as she noticed her whole ass was out. Then she skipped off towards the goblin toilet, and Mason gave Demi a grin.

“So you’re getting along, at least?”

Demi stepped off the bed and nodded with her own smile, stepping up to him for a fierce hug. He breathed her in, feeling warm and not worried anymore.

“She’s wonderful,” Demi said, and Mason snorted.

“She’s a handful.” He wrapped his arms around her. “But I don’t know anyone who doesn’t love her. Phuong just threatened me if I broke her heart.”

Demi went stiff and pulled away. “But you won’t, will you? I mean that’s not what I want. I don’t think I could…I mean I’m not sure I’d…”

“Relax. No one’s breaking anything. Except maybe that bed if you two let me in.” Demi looked unsure and definitely torn. Mason laughed. “I’m kidding. That can…wait. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“What?” Becky came back with another jug. “Don’t be stupid. There’s plenty of room on the bed. Though…” she looked at her towel and frowned. “I ain’t got any pajamas. So turn around.”

Without waiting for anyone to have a chance, she dropped her towel and crawled onto the bed, yanking down the sheet and slipping under with a girlish squeal of pleasure, never losing her grip on the wine.

“Like I’m in a five star hotel,” she said, wiggling against the fabric. “The goblin Ritz.”

Mason grinned and met Demi’s eyes, then inspected her from head to toe. He banished the top of his vestments, and gestured towards the bed.

“You can’t possibly resist the goblin Ritz.”

Demi bit her cheek and fiddled with the tie of her towel. Then she pulled back the sheet and hopped in without dropping it, shimmying it off where Mason couldn’t see. She grinned, and tossed the towel in his face.

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