Chapter 11
Of all the weird shit on her internal bingo card, Bea had never expected to find squares labeled fucked in an elevator by a monster, or dressed like a doll and put in a BMW.
It didn’t seem to matter very much—nothing did, she had sailed clean out of sanity and found being crazy was actually kind of peaceful.
Bloodsucking monsters and little green men were not normal, therefore, she had to be insane. It was a relief to have that decided for good. Her throat felt hot and her mouth was dry as the Sahara, but the rest of her floated in a clear, warm haze, treacherous postcoital glow.
She literally could not decide how to feel.
Every silver lining had a huge black cloud.
She’d lost her knife, but there were no little green men or greasy yellow fog around.
The monster had bitten her again, but she wasn’t in any real pain at the moment.
He’d taken her backpack, tucking it behind her seat—it wasn’t absolutely gone, but that could be a temporary state of affairs.
Her legs shook, but the fear was hiding somewhere else as a low hum of purely physical relief settled in its wake. Did ‘crazy’ just mean ‘not scared anymore’? Someone should’ve told her before now.
She still didn’t quite know how he’d ended up in yet another three-piece suit.
He had a very nice dark-grey London Fog as well, which was tucked around her at the moment.
He’d even put socks on her, lifting each foot in turn while she sat on a padded bench inside a mirrored walk-in closet the size of a neighborhood coffee shop.
Looked like the empty bedroom wasn’t his, since there was a far more comfortable mini-apartment through one of the hall doors, the view from its glass wall-windows completely different, looking south instead of east.
Black cotton socks snuggled solicitously past her ankles to go with a pair of slate-colored yoga pants in her size, a white T-shirt and feather-soft grey plaid flannel button-up—all that and the coat, but no goddamn shoes.
Maybe he doesn’t want me able to run away?
She stared at the windshield, wipers moving in silent synch.
It was a nice car, leather seats and a cushioned ride barely swaying even on the pothole-ridden mess of Old Meadow Street before the Causeway.
No, probably just doesn’t have anything in my size.
Does he do this a lot, kidnap women who stab him?
Glaring rubies in winter dusk—brake lights, like paired bloodclots. Traffic was oddly sparse, but then again she didn’t really know what day it was.
And he’d bitten her again.
That isn’t all he did. For a walk of shame this is pretty good, don’t you think? And let’s not even talk about what...how I…
Nope, she really didn’t want to think about her own body’s response. Even Jare’s voice in her head was gone; maybe he was disgusted. She couldn’t tell—should she be disgusted with herself?
“Your pulse is rising,” the monster said, as the sedan finished turning on the Causeway. The rain intensified, but the passenger seat was heated.
The very lap of luxury. How did he have pants in my size, even Spandex?
Buzzing, grimly inconsequential thoughts simply wouldn’t stop.
“You bit me.” Bea counted the wiper-swings.
One, two, three, four. The rain had ice in its heart, crystal spatters stacking in rows as they were shoved aside. “Again.”
“Not what I had intended for the first, but what’s done is done.” How could he be so calm? Of course, he was at least a hundred and fifty years old, if Don’s guesses were right. “I wondered why they were after you.”
What. The fuck? “They’re after me because you told them to be.” She sounded weary, like a teacher at the end of a long school day. The dashboard glowed, a marvel of modern engineering driven by a monster out of creepypasta camping stories.
“No. They’re after what you hold, little leman.”
What does he have against lemons? Especially with that accent. She wasn’t thinking straight, Bea knew, but none of this made any goddamn sense. It never had. “What, my knife? I got it after—”
“Your brother gave you the necklace.” The car accelerated.
Gravity pressed her into cushiony leather, her entire body reduced to pudding. She could handle pain, no big deal. Having the agony taken away meant there was no reason to be brave, or to really care much about anything.
Was she really a coward at heart? “For my birthday. Was...is that why you wanted the house? The property?” Had Jared been sitting on an emerald mine in fucking Vermont?
That’s fucking silly, Bea. Come on.
“I was concerned about the irruption of greiben on the southern side of that mountain. I held the northern ostensibly for mining concerns, but mostly to keep the infection from interacting too much with mortals. I hadn’t had time yet to start operations—the cold iron in the machines would keep them weak and after a few years they would have empty mineshafts to hold their interest.” The monster checked the mirrors, his hands settled precisely at ten and two o’clock on the wheel.
“My companies made offers to buy out everyone on the south slopes. Your brother and one other refused to sell, then the evening I set aside to visit your brother personally, I found him dead. A great shame; I should have been earlier to meet you.”
“Hold on.” Bea lifted strengthless hands, fingers quivering like dry branches on a windy day. Watching her own trembling was vaguely interesting. “They began harassing him when he turned down the first offer. To drive him out.”
“Did he have a habit of hiking, your Jared?” Testing the name.
The monster sounded so fucking human, now, though the Ivy League accent was gone.
He wasn’t the target she’d researched so thoroughly, a red dress’s beaded strings swaying as she sauntered into the party, everyone assuming she belonged because she made them think that, putting on a confident show.
And now look at her. “He went on walks,” she mumbled, and dropped her arms, hugging herself. Are we just not going to talk about the elevator? Maybe he’s already forgotten it.
Just like a man, but also a distinct relief. So much else was going on, she could ignore that incident. It would be fine shoved in a box and locked away. If she survived, she’d think about it then.
The monster glanced at her; thankfully, the red pinpricks in his pupils were gone. “Was he ever trapped underground on the mountain? Did he ever return late from a camping trip, dazed or incoherent?”
“He went on walks,” she repeated, stubbornly, but it bothered her.
There had been that strangeness two weeks before her birthday, when nobody had been able to get hold of Jared from Thursday until late Monday morning.
He’d missed a local library event plus a scheduled call with his agent Nanci, who had been worried enough to call Bea during midterms.
It’s probably nothing, he’s holed up out in the sticks playing Thoreau, but…
He’d been apologetic and distantly affectionate afterward, smoothing the waters, promising never to worry her or Nanci like that ever again.
At the time Bea had just rolled her eyes and filed it under Instance of Jared being a weirdo, number infinity.
Honestly, if he’d eventually turned into another backcountry Unabomber or something, she wouldn’t have been at all surprised.
Just after that he’d refused an offer from the mining conglomerate owned by Everly, then the really weird shit began.
The necklace was warm against her chest; the monster had tucked it neatly under the T-shirt. How in the hell did he have clothes that fit her?
Before she could ask, the monster piped up again, in a low, musing tone. “I would guess he was gone for a day or two. And he would not mention it afterward, though he gave you a very pretty thing. It speaks well of him that he did not keep the gem.”
You have got to be kidding me. “It’s antique.
Bought it with some of the money from his first book.
” Bea was foggily surprised at her own daring.
Especially since she also pressed her knees together and a certain deep twinge reminded her of the here-and-now instead of years-ago.
Could she tell herself the elevator thing was just a hallucination?
“Because I was doing really well at school.”
And a peace offering, sort of. Sorry for taking up all the air in the room, Bebe.
“A greisoul jewel is a gift bearing thorns, Beatrice. Unless given with love, it consumes the recipient.” The monster settled in his seat, visibly relaxing. “When stolen from the warrens, it draws the greiben. They will not cease pursuit.”
A sharp, bright flare of anger filled Bea for a few welcome seconds, drained away into dragging, numb hopelessness. “You’re lying.”
“Why would I?” Either he was honestly baffled or a world-class actor pretending to be.
“I spent that night hunting down their clan-heads, since they had taken improper prey. I drove them deep into their tunnels; no doubt that allowed your escape. They have been tracking you since, I should guess. And you thought…” A slight shake of his head, a strand of sandy hair falling over his forehead.
He tossed it aside with a quick flicker of motion, a very human movement though just a little too catlike-graceful.
“You’re lying.” She was repeating herself a lot right now. How much could a person be expected to take? And he...in the elevator, he had...“Why did you do that?”