“Well, now you’re here, you absolutelymuststay for dinner, to celebrate your return.”
He made to refuse again, but the thought of going back to that still, quiet house on the other side of Motham Hill, with its ghosts and memories, made him say, “That actually would be very nice, thank you Maisie.”
She clapped her hands together and made to show him up the stairs.
“I know where it is, I’ll make my own way up.”
“Then I will go and finish off the trimmings for the roast,” she said, and waddled happily off to the kitchen.
When Oliver pushed open the door to the roof, he saw the gargoyle silhouetted against the sunset sky. Swift and silent, he was by his side in less than a second. Grayson was staring so intently at the Motham cityscape, it took a moment for him to notice Oliver.
When he did, his big brows shot up. “Well, fuck me, what are you doing here, Hale?”
“Your wife said much the same thing,” Oliver responded drily, holding out the whiskey bottle.
Grayson chuckled. “What’s this for?”
“For us both to imbibe over the next week or so.”
Grayson’s brows climbed higher. “Didn’t expect you’d be here the very next day.”
“Yep, seems so.”
“Here’s to whiskey on the roof. And solving this mystery.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
Grayson produced two glasses from a shelf under the parapet wall. Oliver poured and handed one to Grayson then leaned his elbows on the balustrade and Grayson did the same. They both stared over the hotchpotch of rooftops.
“Somewhere out there we have to hope they’re still alive.” Grayson sighed after a moment’s silence. “It makes me nervous, to be honest. I don’t even like Maisie going out anymore.”
“You can’t wrap her in cotton wool.”
“With our youngling inside her and how much I love her, I damn well would if she’d let me.”
Oliver thinned his lips. What would it feel like to have someone to protect? Someone who lit up your world and made life feel worth living?
A hollowness filled his belly. Face it, the intimacy of a close relationship would never be his.
It was proving harder than he’d thought, being back in Motham, and when he went into the department tomorrow, it would be harder still with Clare’s memory mocking him at every turn. Reminding him of his despicable behavior. Not just with her, but with young humans before her. Long before her. His misspent youth had ruined his chances of ever having what Grayson and Maisie had.
Taking a gulp of his whiskey, his gaze strayed toward The Hole In The Wall District with its modern buildings, seeing the dip in the city wall where the literal hole had come about, a breaking of the city boundary that meant humans and monsters mixed more freely these days.
But clearly, it was not without its problems.
And this situation with the missing humans wasn’t going to help matters.
There had, of course, been a knee-jerk reaction from the human Council of Towns, saying monsters should no longer be allowed to work in Tween. They wanted to shut down the satellite town of Be-Tween and bring the humans home. After the last few years of less restrictive policies, this was all Motham needed. Oliver wondered if Clare would enjoy enforcing all that nonsense, if it became law.
She had always said she believed in free borders; he’d heard her espouse that fact enough times in the past. She was a pro-monster human, an enlightened gen Z-er. So woke and perfect and… gods damn it, there he was, ruminating about her again.
He slugged back another mouthful of whiskey.
“So when do you start? Grayson asked.
“Tomorrow. I’ve asked Saul to have all the case notes on my desk and to find his best staff to work on it.”
“Good luck.” Grayson grimaced. “The PD is chronically short-staffed.”
