The Annals of Fear

Both cars had their doors open. It created a little enclave between which the four felt a semblance of privacy. It wasn\'t the greatest of offices and Matt had petitioned to at least make use of the kitchen, as before. Both Mello and Deontic had protested that and so it didn\'t happen. Century hadn\'t said a word. He was still much paler than usual and was now lying on the backseat of Deontic\'s BMW with his eyes closed. Only the occasional shifting of his lollipop from one side of his mouth to the other told them that he hadn\'t fallen asleep. Deontic was sitting in the driver\'s seat of her car, with her legs out on the ground. She leaned back. "Century, are you ok? Drink some water."



Leaning against the Camero, Mello paused in his apparent contemplation of a chocolate bar to peer across at his prone foster sibling. "Just for the record, we don\'t have a defibrillator here. Becoming that scared again will mean death."



Deontic gave him a withering look. "Mello."



His glance at her held a hint of malice, strengthened by the half-smile. "I\'m just telling it as it is."



Beside him, Matt was perched on the passenger seat of his car, with the laptop on his knees. "Just as I thought." He looked up at his husband. "Mello, where are the Aethists killing themselves?"



"What?"



"The Christians are going into churches; the Muslims are in their mosques; a couple of Jewish girls here in a synagogue; and a lone Pagan at a stone circle. Where are the Aethists?" He handed the laptop up, but Mello didn\'t take it. He was too busy looking extremely pensive. "Are we to assume some kind of immunity, if there\'s a lack of religion?"



"No." Mello replied. "We\'re to assume less visible suicides. They aren\'t going to a centre, they\'re doing it in their homes or somewhere secular. That doesn\'t follow a pattern, so it hasn\'t been flagged up."



"The death count is higher."



"Yes."



Deontic frowned. "Either there is a pattern or there isn\'t." The three of them exchanged long, hard stares, each willing one of the others to provide the answer. When it wasn\'t forthcoming, they each retreated into their own cerebral worlds, trying to fathom it out. "It\'s a pity that we can\'t speak with someone who listened to it."



Mello shrugged. "They tend towards being dead." He stared at the house. "Pity we can\'t speak with Maja, she turns up enough." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Matt slotting in a USB stick. The earpiece was already in his ear. "You listen to that song, Mail Jeevas, and I swear that I\'ll kill you myself." He glared, hard, at his husband. Matt just stared back up at him. "Don\'t try the big, green eyes thing. I\'m immovable on the subject."



"Huh?" A slow smile grew across Matt\'s face.



"You heard."



Matt chuckled. "What big, green eyes thing?"



"The thing you do when you\'re trying to be cute in order to get your own way." He reached out and grabbed the collar, bringing his gaze to within a couple of inches of Matt\'s goggles. "No." His other hand snaked out to take the earpiece and the bluetooth adapter. "Be told." He left a kiss on Matt\'s lips and backed away again. Mello resumed his position, standing up against the car, and silence descended as each kept their own counsel.



In the backseat of the car, Century coughed, then sat up long enough to drink water. "I don\'t mind listening to it."



Mello stared at him, then eventually said, "No."



Matt was searching the internet for information about the song. His programmes had thrown up nothing awry about the layers of sound. His battery was starting to run out. "Does everyone who listens to it then have to die? We\'ve already proved that people can stay in that house and have experiences without dying." He didn\'t look at Century, but the other two did. "Mostly."



Century rallied and sat up properly. "I\'ll listen to it."



Mello growled. "Fuck it." He took his mobile \'phone from his pocket. "Matt get me an encrypted server for sending an e-mail. I want one that even your friends couldn\'t crack." As Matt raised his eyebrows, Mello stalked away towards the gate. He called back over his shoulder. "Don\'t follow me."



Deontic frowned. "What happened to \'don\'t split up\'?" But Mello had stayed in sight, just kept himself out of their earshot. He was making a \'phone call. "Who\'s he calling?"



Matt looked pensive. "I don\'t know." Across the yard, Mello\'s whole demeanour had changed. His body language seemed even more confident and sassy. When he glanced back, his smile was barely recognisable, but Matt had seen it before. When he\'d first met up with Mello after many years apart, Mello had smiled like that a lot. Matt knew, even as he set up the e-mail server, that this was going to involve the Mafia. Mello was calling in favours from a past which he swore was over and people were going to get killed. All in the name of solving the case. Matt lit a cigarette. He was helping him. That\'s what made it so much worse.



Mello strode back, the \'phone dropped into his pocket again. "Laptop." He held his hand out.



"One second," Matt told the screen, "just configuring the settings."



"Hurry."



Matt nodded. He worked as fast as he could. "Was this plan B, Mello?"



Mello\'s eyes were dark. There was about him a hint of danger that he had never managed quite to emulate in even their most elaborate sexplay. This was real. "No." He took the laptop. "That\'s still to come." He walked around the Camero to rest the laptop on its roof. Rapid typing ensued, then the e-mail was sent. "And now we wait."



Deontic stared at him with horrorstruck eyes. "You\'ve sent the song? Does the person know what it is?"



There was something just a little psychotic about the way that Mello looked at the woman. "If you don\'t want to be on my case, Dee, you can leave. You have your car." Though there was no threat in the words, the tone held one. It drained the colour from Deontic\'s face and silenced her. Her heart thundered. She bowed her head under the weight of guilt and trepidation. Mello stepped back from the laptop like it was a live thing. "It\'s done and now we wait."



No-one looked at him. After a minute or so, Matt rose from his seat and rounded the car. He wrapped his arms around Mello, who stood as immobile as a statue. "You ok?"



Mello shrugged. He shifted his arm to snake it around Matt\'s waist. "Whore."



Matt had an intake of breath. He continued quietly, "I\'m not here for that. I think I know what you did and who you contacted. It\'s not what you\'d wished ever to do again."



"You don\'t know anything, Matt." Mello sneered. "Let\'s keep it that way."



Matt nodded. "Can we just say that, right now, I\'m more your comare than your husband?"



Mello rolled his eyes and hissed. "No, Matt, you\'re my husband." His glare broked no opposition. "Now shut up about things of which you know nothing." He let go and shrugged away Matt\'s arms, striding around the car to face the other two. Century and Deontic were both staring at the gravel between their feet. When Century looked up, his eyes were as bruised with the effects of sleeplessness as L\'s ever were. It was like a rebuke. "It\'s going to take a while before I get my results. It\'s hardly likely to happen instantly, if at all. Meanwhile, I am initiating plan B and you lot will stay out here. Is that understood?" Unease radiated from them all. Mello\'s tone grated with a steely edge. "Is that understood?"



"Yes." Whispered Century, who was nearest to Mello. Deontic just nodded and Matt didn\'t react at all.



"Fine." Mello paced to the boot of Deontic\'s car. "Open this." It was opened and Mello reached in to retrieve two more chocolate bars. As soon as it was closed, and he stood clear, he fixed his Medusa state onto Matt. "Mail, if you follow me into that house, I will leave you. I will collect my belongings from our home and you will never see me again. Before I go, I will take from you all of the," he paused, his gaze dipping momentarily to the collar, "jewellery, that I have given you. Is that understood?"



Matt\'s mouth gaped. "What?"



"Century, you follow and Siân Morgan-Jones of Conwy..."



"I have no intention of following you." Century glared right back, but it was him who averted his gaze first. "Leave her out of it."



"Deontic..."



Deontic stifled a cry, "Don\'t even think of threatening me, Mello."



Mello passed by her, ruffling her hair as he went, "Good girl." Then he marched on into the house.