Accidental Demon Slayers: Melody of Light pt. 5

As Ashtyn drove to Clare’s apartment, she kept mentally kicking herself.  Why had she shown her that article?  She knew why, as much as she hated to admit it.  She was pissed off at Clare.  She didn’t want to be, but she was.  Some part of her blamed Clare for Brittany’s death. 

Ashtyn had never thought that Brittany was ready for the field.  It wasn’t just because she sucked at dealing with people.  It was because she was too brash, and she didn’t think things through.  She let her guard down, and eventually, that was what got her killed. 

The anger was useless, and it was totally misplaced.  Ashtyn knew all too well that the feelings made no sense.  Clare had no choice to take Brittany.  After everything that had happened at Yamada Labs, no one else was in any shape to handle a big job. 

“Your feelings confuse me.” Tabitha’s voice drifted into her mind.  “So, are you angry, or are you not angry?” 

“Both.”  Ashtyn had finally managed to talk to Tabitha mentally without causing a raging migraine. 

“How does that work?”  Tabitha’s voice sounded like that of a curious child. 

“I know what I’m feeling makes no sense.  It’s totally misplaced.  Still, I can’t help but feel it.” Ashtyn sighed out loud. 

“Will you forgive her?” Tabitha’s question hit like a punch to the gut. 

Would she?  Could she?  She had to.  Staying angry at Clare was pointless.  Glancing over at her boss now, she could see that Clare was beating herself up enough.  She didn’t need anyone else joining in.  Still, could she honestly forgive her?  Fully? 

“I will.”

“Good.  Being in your mind when you are angry can be very frightening.” 

“What are you two talking about?”  Clare’s voice drew Ashtyn out of her head. 

“My own inability to properly deal with things.” Ashtyn laughed.  “How’d you know?” 

“You furrow your brow when you talk to her.” Clare glanced out the window. 

The sky, which had been a bright, beautiful blue when Ashtyn had left the house that morning, was now turning an angry shade of gray. 

“I guess I still need to concentrate to make sure I don’t answer out loud.”  Ashtyn flicked on her windshield wipers as the first drops of rain started to bounce off the glass.  “Kurt never seemed to have this problem.” 

“Maybe Doctore just talks less.”  Clare shrugged. 

“It’s still weird hearing you talk about the deities like you know them.”

“I do, to a degree.”  Clare glanced at her, her eyes still puffy and swollen.  When she spoke, her voice still sound raw.  “I hear enough about them that I feel like I know them, at least.” 

“Do you think you’ll… you know, end up with one?”  Ashtyn had to admit that she was wondering when Clare would be joined to her own deity.  It had happened to both her and Kurt, and it felt like Clare was the next, obvious choice. 

“I don’t know if I want that to happen.”  Clare sat up.

“It’s not that bad. At least you’re never lonely.” 

“Well, I guess it’s up to the Scribes.” Clare cringed at the mention of the ancient holy group.

“You know, even after we learned all that info from Rita, I still can’t find any mention of the Scribes, or the Nameless.  Not in anything.”  Ashtyn turned on her headlights, the yellow beams cutting through the worsening storm. 

“They aren’t called the Nameless for nothing.” Clare started fishing through Ashtyn’s center console, looking for a pack of cigarettes. 

“I quit.”  Ashtyn gave her a half smile.  “A while ago, actually. I didn’t need my own lungs slowing me down.  We get chased enough, and I have to run around enough, where even casually smoking was causing me problems, so… I wanted to better my odds.” 

“Can we stop somewhere?  I need a drink, or a smoke, or… something.”  Clare looked like she was about to jump out of her skin. 

“Sure.”  Ashtyn had to admit, she was in need of a drink herself. 

They found a bar about five minutes later, pulling into the half empty parking lot.  It was still early, so Ashtyn wasn’t surprised that, outside of the hardcore wino crowd, the place was mostly empty.  The building was small, made of dark brown stone, and a neon sign that read ‘Lou’s’ glowed through the lone, slim window next to the chipped, wooden door.    

The inside of the bar was exactly what Ashtyn had expected.  There was low lighting, and a few tables set to the right, while the bar itself ran along the left of the building.  Behind the bar old bottles of liquor lined the back wall, which was covered in a mirror littered with cracks. 

When the women entered, the droopy-eyed gazes of a handful of old men greeted them.  The bartender, a middle aged woman in a tank top, asked them for their orders, and then left them. 

“Well, this doesn’t strike me as the kind of place where everyone knows your name.”  Ashtyn glanced around, wishing she had brought in her hand sanitizer. 

“This is a place you go to when you want to forget your own name.”  Clare was eyeing an ancient cigarette machine towards the back of the bar.  “I’ll be right back.” 

When Ashtyn was alone, Tabitha piped up again. 

“This place looks like depression made real.”  Her voice was low, displeased. 

“That’s because it is.  It really, truly, is.”  Ashtyn just shook her head.  She hadn’t been to a true dive bar since college. 

“It smells like pee and desperation.” 

Ashtyn couldn’t help but laugh out loud.  Of all the places her and Clare could have ended up, they landed in the one that so perfectly fit their current situation. 

They were in desperation, made physical.  This wasn’t where they need to be.  This was the opposite of where they needed to be. 

Ashtyn slapped a ten down on the bar, and walked back towards Clare, who was still fiddling with the cigarette machine. 

“The damn thing doesn’t work.”  Clare smacked the machine with the side of her hand. 

“You don’t need those,” Ashtyn put her hand on Clare’s shoulder, “and you don’t need this place.  Come on.” 

Ashtyn gently turned Clare around and led her out of the bar.  They both needed to start healing, and ‘Lou’s’ was the last place that would ever happen.