Dark mind, p.29
Dark Mind, page 29
The creature’s amber eyes were unreadable. “Tell the clerk you want the third room for yourself, then get the car out of sight. I’ll distract him long enough for you to get Josh inside.”
Josh shook his head and backed away.
Gloria grabbed his shoulders and he cried out. She let go. “Shhh! Josh. Josh! Look, we’re gonna take care of you, okay? But I can’t do that if you’re sitting in the car somewhere by yourself. You don’t want to be alone, do you? This will work. No one will see—right, Yoxtl?”
The spirit grinned. “Trust me. I’ll keep the manager plenty busy.”
Gloria started back toward the front desk. The girls exited, Bethany and Doris headed one way, Evelyn standing idly by with a key in her limp hand, looking confused. Gloria gave Evelyn’s arm a squeeze and said, “Wait there, hun.” She jogged up to Bethany and Doris. “Where are you two going?”
Bethany unlocked a room and tossed her purse inside. “To bed. Do I need permission from you to do that?”
“One of you has to stay with Evelyn. She can’t be left alone.”
“We thought you were,” said Doris.
“I thought so too, but now I have to look after Josh.”
Bethany’s eyes narrowed and Doris slunk into the room before shots were fired. She busied herself with unpacking, though she surreptitiously watched them.
“What do you mean by that?” asked Bethany.
“I mean I’m going to sneak Josh into a room.”
“How dare you! This isn’t your establishment. They have a right to decide who stays here. Have you smelled him? Filthy. Probably have to burn the sheets afterward. Most of them are no better than trained mongrels, and that one’s not even housebroken. There’s no telling what he’ll do to that room. I’m going to tell the owner right now.”
Bethany started to walk away and Gloria grabbed her by the arm. The look she received was murderous, and she hastily dropped it.
“Please, Beth, I just need a good night’s sleep. I’m exhausted. It’s only one night.”
Bethany’s expression softened a fraction, then a stern resolution took hold. “He never should have come along in the first place, and the owner of this place made his feelings clear. Better to be rid of the boy now before he causes any more trouble. Now, will you take him somewhere else or do I have to report you?”
The night seemed even colder. Gloria thrust her hands into her pockets and tried to think. Her fingers brushed against something.
“What if I give you half the diamonds? One night, Bethany. That’s all I ask.”
The woman seemed to reconsider. Gloria fingered the stones nervously as she waited for a reply.
“I’ll do it,” said Bethany. “For all of them. I don’t see why a morally compromised woman like yourself should be in charge of our finances.” At Gloria’s sour expression she added, “Oh, don’t worry, honey, I’ll leave you enough for a room.”
Gloria gritted her teeth and handed the diamonds to Bethany, who passed back two.
“Thank you,” Bethany said in a singsong voice. She flounced into the room and began pulling things out of her purse—expensive dresses and shoes, hats, jewelry. She giggled with Doris over their haul, laying everything out on the bed to compare. The most practical thing either of them had taken was a mink coat.
Gloria cleared her throat. “What about Evelyn?”
“Forget it,” said Bethany. “Have you heard her in the ward at night? She’s a screamer.”
Gloria gave Doris an imploring look.
“I’m sure she’ll be fine alone.”
“No, she won’t. You know she won’t. Please, Doris.”
“Give it a rest,” said Bethany. “Just leave Josh alone and go sleep with Evelyn. Honestly, I don’t know why you’re fighting it so hard.” She turned with a wicked smile. “Or are you finally listening to the doctor’s orders? Is that why you’re so desperate to bunk with the Negro?”
Doris shot Bethany a quizzical look and Gloria flushed. “If someone sees me coming out of Evelyn’s room in the morning, they’re gonna know I didn’t sleep in my own.”
“And we can’t have that, can we?” Bethany laughed. “Relax, Gloria. If someone sees, tell them you were getting everyone up early.”
Gloria backed away and closed the door. She held the handle for a moment, taking measured breaths and consciously relaxing her muscles. When she felt reasonably composed, she returned to the front desk. “I need a room.”
The clerk eyed her suspiciously. “I thought you were staying with those other girls.”
“That was before the other girls decided to leave me high and dry.” She slapped a diamond on the counter. “Can I get a room or not?”
“No need to get testy, miss.” He grabbed a key off the hook and held it out, yanking it back at the last second. “This room is for you and you only. I don’t even want to see your driver so much as bring the bags inside. Got it?”
“I got it.”
“Good, ’cause I got my eye on you.”
Gloria took the key and stepped back with a squish. She frowned and glanced at her feet. The carpet was soaking wet. “I think you have a leak somewhere.”
“What?” He leaned over the counter to see where she was pointing. “Oh no. No no no!” He bolted into an adjoining room.
Gloria followed him and poked her head inside. It was like a janitor’s closet, boiler room, and bathroom all rolled into one. There was a mishmash of cleaning supplies, a water heater, and a toilet. Brown water leaked over the edge of the bowl and dripped onto the floor.
“You’d best get to your room now, miss. No reason for you to get filth all over your shoes.” The clerk grabbed a plunger and set to work on the toilet, sloshing water all over his slippered feet.
That didn’t make sense—the water at her own feet was warm, and there was a lot more of it than she’d expect from just the toilet. She craned her neck to look at the water heater—the drain valve was leaking. “The toilet isn’t the problem. You have to—”
“No offense, missy, but the day I take plumbing advice from a woman is the day I die.”
Her jaw clenched and she took a step toward the boiler. She’d show him what a woman could do.
Yoxtl materialized inches from her face. “What are you doing? Go move Josh!”
Gloria blinked, momentarily stunned by her own stupidity. “I’ll, uh, leave you to it then.” She backed out of the room and exited the lobby, Yoxtl floating alongside her. “I’m sorry. I was expecting your diversion to be more magical I guess.” She gave the spirit a sheepish smile.
“Sometimes the simplest solutions are the best. And don’t worry about him fixing the leak too soon.” The spirit cackled. “I’ve got plans to keep him busy all night.”
24
BARRIERS
Medea woke to sunlight tickling her face. The room was still frigid, but she smiled at the day and its promise of renewed warmth. Stretching on all fours and arching her back like a cat, she rolled out of bed to ready herself for the day. Her brush was missing and it was only after sifting through her bags twice that she realized she’d forgotten it. She combed her fingers through her hair, battling the desire to chop it all off and be done. It wasn’t until she turned back to the bed that she saw the blood—a few flecks at first, then a pool of deep crimson smeared across the dresses that had been her pallet.
What the hell? She glanced down at the dress she wore, but the front was clean. Where had it come from? Was she wounded? Had whatever caused the crashing sound last night hurt her, and why hadn’t she felt it? She stripped and began searching her body. The source of the blood soon became apparent, and she cursed.
Why hadn’t she anticipated this? Annoying enough having her hair in her face all the time, but now she had to deal with menstruation as well. She knelt to examine the dresses, swearing at the damage she’d inadvertently caused. How the hell had it soaked through both, plus the one she had on? She never remembered there being that much blood before. It was as though her body was getting revenge for the millennial pause in her cycle.
She rolled up a cloth and shoved it between her legs, then donned the dress with the least amount of spotting. Perhaps she could wash the others at the well before Nikolai woke. Males were odd about such things. They could be drowning in the blood of their enemies, smiling all the while, but the sight of a woman’s blood made them shrink away in horror. Uncleeeeeean. She shook her head at the follies of men.
The dresser in front of the door refused to budge. Right, the books. She opened each drawer and pulled them out, stacking them neatly beside the door, and tried again. Still it would not move.
She took a step back.
The dresser sat at a list. She examined the back and found one of the legs had broken through the floor—that had been the crash—and was stuck. She tried to maneuver it out, throwing her full weight against the dresser, but the leg remained stubbornly in place. Great, just great. A warm trickle down her inner thigh alerted her that her bundle had shifted. She swore and repositioned it.
Second story, completely isolated, no chance of intruders sneaking in the window—all the qualities she looked for in a room yesterday now prevented her from getting out. She moved to the window, knowing damn well it was fruitless but praying she’d been mistaken, that a shed or trellis had magically appeared during the night. Nothing but a sheer drop.
The floorboards beyond her door creaked—Nikolai must be up. She was never going to live this down, but what other choice did she have?
“Nikolai! Nikolai!” She banged on the wall by the door.
The creaking stopped in front of her door. “Yes?”
“I’m trapped inside my room. I need you to go below my window and catch me.”
Like an idiot, he tried the door and it smacked into the dresser. “Trapped how? What’s blocking your door?”
“The dresser. Look, I need you to go outside and wait below my window.”
“Why the hell is the dresser in front of your door? And why don’t you just move it?”
“Don’t you think I’ve tried that?” she snapped. He was so dense sometimes. “It’s stuck. Go outside my window and prepare to catch me. Please,” she added as an afterthought.
“Alright, alright. I’m going.” Nikolai’s mumbling faded away with the creaking floorboards.
She moved to the window and looked down. It took him forever to appear. This was going to be painful, not just because of the distance of the drop but because she’d have to allow him to hold her. No doubt he’d take the chance to grab something he shouldn’t.
When he was in position, she put one leg out the window and then the other, balancing precariously on the creaky windowsill.
“I’m ready,” he said, arms outstretched.
She took a breath and readied herself to jump, shifting her weight slightly. The wood beneath her snapped, and she plummeted with a yelp. A moment later, she was in Nikolai’s arms. She tensed, expecting an “accidental” grope, but his grip didn’t wander as he set her on her feet.
“You’re even lighter than you look,” he remarked. Abruptly, he cocked his head to look at her backside. She nearly pummeled him but halted at his words. “You’re bleeding. Did you cut yourself on the ledge?”
Goddamnit. She twisted around to confirm what he’d seen. “No, I didn’t cut myself. I just . . . I haven’t been without spells for a long time. I’d forgotten that one of the benefits of magic was not having to deal with, well . . .”
Much to her surprise, he laughed.
“It’s not funny, you know.”
He grinned. “Yes, it is. Though maybe not to you. Can I get you anything for that?”
Her mouth pinched shut. Was he serious, or was he having a go at her? She hedged her bet on the truth. “Yes, actually. Dry leaves. A handful of them. And go on the other side of the house, I need to wash up a bit.”
“Dry leaves, sure thing.” He walked around the side of the house, chuckling as he went.
She waited until he was out of sight, then extracted the rag from between her legs, rinsed it at the water pump, wrung it out, repositioned it. The damned thing wouldn’t do. It kept slipping.
“Are you decent?” Nikolai called out from the other side of the house. Nice of him to ask, although knowing most men, he’d probably peeked first.
“Yes.”
“Here you go.” He swaggered forward and held out a fistful of red-orange leaves.
Reflexively she reached out, then jerked her hand back when she realized what they were. “I can’t use those!”
He’d broken them off at the stem, retaining the unmistakable three-leaf arrangement. Leave it to Nikolai to find the only unsuitable plant in the area. Had he done it on purpose, hoping she wouldn’t notice? Was this petty revenge for some perceived slight? Most people wouldn’t sacrifice their own comfort for the sake of a prank, but Nikolai had a high tolerance for pain. She searched his face for answers but found none.
“What’s wrong with them?” He sounded indignant.
“They’re poison ivy. Your hands are going to have a rash tomorrow.”
He dropped the leaves as if bitten. “Blyad!”
“No, don’t rub them on your pants!” She ran forward and grabbed his wrist. “The poison is an oil. You’ll spread it around if you do that. Come here.”
She led him to the water pump and pulled the handle while he scrubbed his hands with dirt and water.
“Could have been worse, I suppose,” he said. “Imagine if you didn’t recognize them and offered me some of your tea.”
“Tea? What do you me— Oh!” She supposed that made sense. There were certain teas that helped with cramping. “I didn’t want them for that, and if I was going to make tea I would’ve asked for specific plants.”
“I’d wondered, but why else would you need leaves?”
Did he really want specifics? “You know, to catch the blood. You get a stick about the size of your finger and wrap the leaves around it. Then, you know . . .” She made a circle with one hand and pushed a finger up through it. His expression grew increasingly horrified. She should have known better than to discuss such things with a man. If he couldn’t handle this sort of talk then he shouldn’t have asked.
“You were going to shove them inside you? It’s 1957! They must have invented something better than leaves.” He covered his face with his hand. “Bloody leaves,” he mumbled, shaking his head.
“Well, that’s what we used back then!” She felt her cheeks burn. Never in a million years did she think a man could make her feel insecure about something like this. What did women use these days? “I suppose you’re right. But I can’t risk going anywhere right now and even if I could, I wouldn’t have the slightest idea where to—”
“I’ll go.”
She stared at him in disbelief. Why was he being so nice? And why would he risk his reputation as a male to get her something like that? She didn’t know much about the culture these days, but from what little she’d seen, menstruation probably carried the same stigma.
“Why?”
“Are you kidding? I’ll take any excuse to get away from this dump.” His blatant self-centeredness was oddly reassuring. For once he wasn’t lying, and his interests really did align with hers.
She took a breath. “Alright. But don’t dally. We still have work to do.”
He flashed a grin and was gone.
Nikolai returned to the farmhouse in high spirits. Apparently a man willing to buy sanitary products for his “little sister” was catnip for women. The young lady behind the counter was more than happy to assist him. Ignoring her father’s horrified expression at the open discussion of such items, she led Nikolai to the aisle and proceeded to show him what they had in stock. When he told her he’d be purchasing one of each box just to be on the safe side, she was about ready to tear his clothes off right there. As she rang him up, she asked how long he was in town and where he was staying, while her father glowered from a stool behind the counter.
“An old farmhouse off Havershine Road. My sister’s of a mind to fix up the place. Sadly, it’s in no state to entertain visitors yet.”
“Too bad. I’d love to come ’round and meet her.”
“She’s not too fond of people, but I’ll be here all week. Tell me, what do folk around here do for fun?”
“The bar in town has a dance floo—” Her father loudly cleared his throat, and she mouthed sorry. “That’ll be three ninety-two, sir.”
Nikolai locked eyes with the old bastard and withdrew a blank slip of paper from his pocket. He passed it to the young woman, telepathically informing her it was a five-dollar bill. “Here you go, darling. Keep the change.”
The spat that ensued was highly amusing. Father demanded he pay. Daughter insisted he already had. Neither could figure out what the other’s problem was, nor were they willing to back down. Eventually he tired of the exchange and made to leave, at which point the old man pulled a gun. Nikolai met his gaze coolly. The man jabbered on for a time, making demands, though his voice began to waver under the unflinching stare, until at last he simply ordered Nikolai to leave.
Maintaining eye contact with the father, Nikolai held his hand out for the bag. “And will you be at the bar tonight?” he asked the woman.
She chanced a look at her father, then straightened her shoulders and slid the bag across the counter. “Yes. Yes, I will.”
Nikolai drove back to the farmhouse and swaggered into the house, bag of products slung over his shoulder.
Medea materialized at the kitchen door to accost him. “Were you successful?”
“In more ways than one.” He smiled and upended the bag on the table, spilling out an assortment of boxes. Medea picked up a box of Tampax and mumbled to herself as she read. He liked that she was coming to rely on him despite herself. The bloodstain on the back of her dress had faded to brown, though the front was now covered with dust. What had she been doing while he was gone?
