to love, to kill; no sweeter nectar
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“Whatcha in town for, boss?”
“Name’s Tyler. My wife is attending a convention in town. I had to fly civie to make it back in time.”
“Ah, so you are military.” The man grinned into the rearview mirror. “Name’s Hossan. What does your wife do?”
Tyler glanced out the window, staring out over Queens and Brooklyn and the hazy Manhattan skyline. “She’s a writer. A popular one. Mostly writes mysteries, though she tried her hand at romance.”
“Books?”
“Once tried to get her to work on a Broadway performance. She tied me up in her parent’s favorite rack and left me to suffer for a week.”
Hossan shot him a worried frown...Tyler hadn’t paid it any heed. He was already envisioning his impending reunion. The children would rush him, as usual. Francoise was seven now and little Jules was five. The youngest, Shelley, would be three before the end of the month. Over a year had passed since he last saw them in person; he was filled with longing thinking of them and their mother.
“What books are these? The mystery ones?” Hossan asked a couple minutes later. They were on a busy six-lane highway, pressing and pushing against the rest of traffic.
“The Viper de la Muerte ones.”
Series
- Part 1 of to love, to kill; no sweeter nectar
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Stitched Together Into an Imperfect Union by Kamil_the_Awesome
Fandoms: Wednesday (TV 2022)
26 Feb 2023
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“Who was the prisoner, lieutenant?”
Wednesday didn’t need to ask; she had known who it would be before they stormed the complex. She only wanted to hear confirmation of what she knew in her bones.
“You wish to know, ma’am?” He sounded surprised by her interest, but then he was in the dark about her suspicions. She nodded, mouth tightening with annoyance. “It’s the Hyde.” He paused before adding, “He’s in rough shape. Dehydration, perhaps a little starved. Bruising. They treated him poorly, despite being a valuable asset.”
Her dead, blackened heart clenched at the news. Years had passed since Wednesday last crossed paths with Tyler Galpin. To feel anything upon hearing of his poor condition blindsided her conscious mind. She had spent years telling herself that those short merry weeks together in Jericho had meant nothing.
She did not need the achy, immaterial pain those thoughts induced.
“Take me to him.”
Series
- Part 2 of to love, to kill; no sweeter nectar