Hellbent

by Cherie Priest

  Every tick of every yellow stripe took us farther away from the Johnson Space Center, and away from the storm.

  11

  Via the world’s most circuitous route, we returned to the hotel about an hour before dawn. I had to carry Elizabeth up into the room, partly because she was still unconscious, and partly because Adrian refused to help me.

  “Oh no. She’s your pet project. You deal with her.”

  “If you’re my ghoul, then she’s your—”

  “Forget it. This ghoul shit can go out the window.”

  “Not if you want to pass in Atlanta, it won’t. We should practice. This would be good practice; here, take her arm.”

  “No.”

  So I was the one who wrangled her up the elevator and to the relative safety of our hotel room. I dropped Elizabeth on the bed just before remembering we were both still kind of wet from our adventures, so I swooped her up again and deposited her on the love-seat-type settee up against the window. It’d probably wind up being her bed anyway. Might as well let her get comfortable, or get out of my way as the case may be.

  Then I set to peeling off my own wet garb and simultaneously digging round in my rolly case for something clean and dry.

  Adrian did likewise over on his side of the room, trying to pretend that he wasn’t so mad that he could barely stand to look at me. He’s not a very good pretender. He blew it when he asked, “Tell me again what the fuck we’re going to do with this woman?”

  “For starters, we’re going to let her rest.”

  “And then what? Am I in charge of her while you’re asleep? Is that the cunning plan?”

  “It’d be nice if you keep her off me while I’m napping. I don’t want to make a mega-mess for housekeeping in our wake—certainly not the kind of thing that might prompt them to contact the authorities. So yeah, do me a favor and mind her while I’m out.”

  “I swear to God, I can’t imagine what you were thinking …”

  I threw my hands up. “I was thinking, Shit, this lady is really powerful and kind of fucked-up, but maybe she needs a little help and not a violent take-down.”

  “I don’t believe you for a second. I think you’ve got some weird mommy-complex going on.”

  “You take that back!”

  “I won’t,” he declared, breaking eye contact long enough to pull his tuxedo shirt off and throw it at the curtains for no apparent reason. “It’s obvious—you’ve met this woman who’s old enough to be your … well, she looks old enough to be your mother, and she’s as crazy as you are. Maybe even crazier! And you think, Hey, I have to help her because we’re, we’re, I don’t know. From the same planet or something.”

  He’s an asshole when he’s being smart, but he’s hard to argue with. “Okay, I don’t see it like that,” I partially lied, because I could totally see the sense in what he was saying. “But even if every word were true, who cares? I grabbed her, I brought her here, and more important, I scored the bones.”

  “You scored her and the bones. One of these things you can sell. One of these things you might be stuck with for a while!”

  “So goddamn shortsighted,” I accused as I turned away from him, unfastened my bra, and peeled it off my chest. It made a slurping sound as it unstuck from my boobs. While I still had my back to him, I yanked a T-shirt on over my head. “We can sell the bones, yes. I’ll call Horace and let him know I have them, first thing tomorrow night. But Ms. Creed over there … she can stay with us, or head off on her own. She might be a little unbalanced, but she’s an adult. All I did was rescue her from the NASA security goons. I didn’t adopt her. I’m not going to get her spayed and find her a good home.”

  “You ever tell yourself that about Pepper and Domino?”

  “All the time, but that’s different. These days, I kind of need them. Or Ian does.”

  “These days, yeah. Whatever lets you sleep at night.”

  “I sleep like a stoner, and it’s no business of yours whom I rescue, adopt, or kick to the curb. You’re not even really my ghoul, anyway. If you were, you might be in some place to criticize—but of course, if you were really my ghoul, you wouldn’t dare. You’d have too much sense for that.”

  “Maybe we should put this whole ‘ghoul’ thing to bed right now—it’s not going to work.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more,” I said. I held the absolutely trashed Chanel in my hands and tried not to cry. It was a stupid thing to cry over, but I’d bought it new, when I was young. And I wondered if I could save it, because I’m a sentimental loony. “So obviously,” I said, feeling spiteful at the world and aiming it at him, “you can’t come with me to Atlanta.”

  “Say what now?”

  “You heard me. If you can’t pass as my ghoul, you won’t survive the Barrington Household. So forget it. You’re headed back to Seattle tomorrow.”

  “Like hell I am.” He did a 180. “I’ll fake it so good, you’ll give me an Oscar when we get home.”

  “You haven’t done much to demonstrate it yet. Don’t you understand? Ghouls are deferential, they’re quiet, and they’re useful. You aren’t any of those things. Ever.”

  “I learned on the fly in San Francisco.”

  “That was for the span of half an hour. And you weren’t great, even for that long. Look, I know you think I’m laying this on thick because I want a lackey, but that’s not the case. I’ve never had a lackey before, I don’t like lackeys, and I particularly don’t like ghouls, if you’ll recall. Ergo, the fact that you’re the world’s worst ghoul is a huge point in your favor from a personal standpoint, but it’ll get you killed in the kind of scenario I’m looking at in Georgia.”

  “Obviously, I’ll fake it better in Georgia. I’m much better at kissing ass when my life is on the line.”

  “Not good enough,” I countered. “I can handle the trip myself, and if you can’t convince me otherwise by next nightfall, you’re going home.”

  He looked like he wanted to call me names—creative names, names that I’d write down and use again for how awful and brilliant they were—but he swallowed them down and only glared. Then he said, “You’re im-fucking-possible.”

  “I am also exhausted and to paraphrase the bard—here comes the sun.” I drew the curtains shut and fastened them with the binder clips I’d picked up on a whim a few days previously. They’re perfect for the job—cheap, portable, and efficient. “So if you don’t mind, I’m going to burrito myself up in the comforter and call it a day. If you want to prove to me what an awesome ghoul you’re capable of being, perhaps you’ll consider helping Ms. Creed get her shit together while I’m not looking.”

  I kicked my mutilated shoes under the bed, grabbed the comforter, and swathed myself therein—pulling the covers up over my head until I couldn’t see a thing, including the thing I least wanted to see. (Read: The expression on Adrian’s face, which no doubt could’ve killed dandelions.)

  Much to my surprise, he didn’t say anything.

  I kept waiting for it, lying there wondering when the retort would come. But it didn’t. And before long I fell asleep.

  I awakened however-many-number-of-hours later to the soft sound of voices, and I was somewhat confused. Was it the television? Not unless Adrian was on TV, which felt unlikely. Then who the hell was he talking to?

  Oh yeah.

  Her.

  I extricated myself from the blankets with about as much grace and speed as you’d expect, then rubbed at my eyes to clear them—revealing Adrian and Elizabeth sitting on either side of a small table they’d pulled away from the wall to sit between them. Upon this table was a game of what appeared to be gin rummy.

  The rustling of my unfurling drew their attention. Elizabeth folded her cards down onto her lap and said, “Good evening,” like this was the most normal thing in the whole world, sitting in a room with an off-duty drag queen and a vampire, playing cards.

  “Back at you,” I mumbled. “Who’s winning?”

  Adrian responded,
“This round, she is. I won the last one. We’ve just been killing time.”

  “Waiting for me to wake up? How thoughtful.”

  “Waiting for Elizabeth’s flight. She’s heading out in another two hours. Had to get her a red-eye; it was all I could arrange on short notice.”

  “On the Internet?” I assumed.

  “With your credit card,” he nodded. “Also, we went shopping.”

  “I’m sure you exercised restraint.” I was sure he hadn’t, just to get back at me.

  “Absolutely,” he lied. “She needed some clothes. I needed some retail therapy.”

  “Perfectly understandable. I hope everyone had a marvelous time on my dime.” I stood up and stretched, and cracked my back. Everything ached, but no worse than the night before—which was a step in the right direction as far as I was concerned. No worse was becoming equivalent to “good times.”

  I eyed my roommates with suspicion. They were getting along, successfully playing leisure games. They’d gone shopping. Elizabeth had showered and brushed her silvering hair, and was wearing something tasteful but simple—a white classic button-up and khaki slacks with brown Eastlands. Adrian was wearing new jeans (dark wash, boot cut) and an oatmeal-colored Henley. They looked civilized and innocent, so clearly I must have been missing something.

  At the end of my visual appraisal, it occurred to me to ask, “Wait. Plane ticket to where?” Even as I suspected the answer.

  “Seattle, of course.” Adrian said it lightly, casually. Almost coldly, but you had to know what to listen for.

  Elizabeth said, “He told me about your home, the building in Seattle where the homeless children live, and your blind friend.”

  “Ah.” I almost started yelling at Adrian that he shouldn’t tell people about Ian like that, but what was it going to hurt? “What else did he tell you? Anything interesting?”

  “He said you’re a vampire, but I’m okay with that. And I want to thank you for your generous offer to keep me there for a while. I’m not sure what I did to deserve it, but I could use a place to lie low. I’m not saying that the cops were right on my tail or anything, but a simple scry told me that people were beginning to question the coincidence.”

  I said, “Right. Yes. Well. You’re welcome, of course. Adrian lives in Seattle, too, you know. I’m glad you two get along. I expect you’ll be seeing a lot of him.”

  She laughed. “That’s funny. A lot of him, yes.”

  “What?”

  “I told her about Neighbors, and the drag show. You’ll have to bring her, one of these nights.”

  “One of these nights, sure. I don’t suppose you told her the address, or anything? So she knows where to go when she gets into town?”

  “I’ve arranged for a car service to pick her up under the name of Meredith Hand. And I’ve already called Ian and given him the heads-up.”

  “How … efficient of you.”

  I’d be lying if I said I was utterly shocked that Adrian had made these arrangements. I wasn’t shocked; I was only somewhat surprised. He’d certainly done a thorough job of it, to give him due credit. And, I mean, come on. It’s not like his vindictiveness came as a huge, heart-stopping betrayal or anything.

  Besides, the longer I stood there like a dummy, the more I was actually okay with it. Was it a bad idea? Yes. A terrible one. But wasn’t it what I wanted, in a warped way? Kind of. My feelings on the matter were too complicated to focus into an Official Position.

  I went out on a limb and asked a silly question. “Just one plane ticket to Seattle?”

  “Yeah, just the one. I figured maybe I’d tag along with you to Atlanta. Our flight leaves an hour after hers.”

  If I was going to pick a fight with him, this was the moment.

  But I let it pass. I sighed, sat down on Adrian’s side of the bed (it had a better view of the television), and picked up the remote. “Two hours to departure, huh?”

  Elizabeth answered. “That’s right. We thought we’d leave as soon as you got up. I don’t think I have anything that’ll get me stopped by security, and I have my own ID under … not the name you know. I like to leave myself plenty of wiggle room.”

  “That’s fine,” I said. Then I broached the money thing, because it’d better come up sooner rather than later. “Now about those bones—”

  She said, “Clearly they’re yours now. You stole them from me fair and square, and it’s not as if I don’t owe you for the hospitality.”

  “About that …” I tapped my fingers on the duffel bag I held beside my lap and did some very hasty thinking. I unzipped the bag and asked, before I could start counting, “How many bones are left?”

  She answered fast. “Thirteen.”

  “An auspicious number,” I mused, noting that she wasn’t lying. They were all there, bundled together. “But I suspect Horace can be convinced you’ve burned through a few of them. I don’t have to give him the whole batch.”

  “Horace?”

  “The lying weasel, as previously discussed.”

  “When?”

  “Last night,” I said, slightly perturbed by her failure to recall—but I didn’t call attention to it. It might not’ve been a mental illness thing. It might’ve just been a side effect of a crazy night and a whole lot of magic floating around. “He’s the guy who tried to buy the bones on the antique parade thing, but don’t worry about him. I’ll take care of him.”

  “You’re selling him the bones?”

  “Let’s say instead that I’m passing them along for a very healthy commission.”

  She pondered this, and said, “Millions. That’s what you could get for thirteen bones.”

  To which I replied, “Yes, and he can still get millions for fewer than that. Say, eight or nine of them. We’ll just tell Horace that you blew a handful of them practicing your spells.”

  Adrian shot me a confused look, then his face lightened. He knew me so well, it surely had nothing to do with the blood link. “You want to save a few?”

  “To sell them on the side?” Elizabeth asked quizzically, since she didn’t know me as well as my faux-ghoul did.

  He told her, “No, no. She wants to save them as insurance.”

  “Against what?”

  “Against future trouble.”

  “But I don’t intend to make any trouble for you,” she objected. “I got Buck Penny, and I undid my marriage.”

  “I’m sorry … you did what?”

  “Penny’s dead, I’m sure. And the marriage never happened.”

  Adrian frowned, but didn’t contradict her. Our gazes met and we fired a whole silent conversation back and forth between us, transmitted via eyebrow wiggles, mostly amounting to, “She’s nuts, right?” “Yeah, I think so.” “Can you undo the past?” “I have no idea.” “Let her think what she wants.” “Okay.”

  Moving right along without arguing, I clarified. “We’re on our own up there in Seattle; we don’t have a House to protect us.” She was about to ask me what a House had to do with anything, but I headed her off at the pass. “Not a house like what you live in; vampire Houses are organizational structures, and they can be useful. They can be much worse than useful if you don’t belong to one. That’s the short version of what I’m getting at.”

  “I think I see,” she said slowly. “You want … to keep these bones … so that I can use them? To protect you and your friends?”

  “Well, if you’re going to be hanging around, you might as well make yourself useful. Are you willing to use them for vengeance-free purposes? For that matter, are you capable of doing so? Or is some dramatic motive required to make them work?”

  “I’m capable, don’t worry about that. But doesn’t it require a certain measure of trust on your part? What if … I hate to say it, but what if I have … you know. An episode? Tonight I feel good. I’ve had my medication for the first time in a few weeks so I feel fuzzy, but mostly secure.”

  “We stopped to refill it,” Adrian chimed in.

&n
bsp; I considered this a very worthy use of funds, but to say so might’ve come off wrong, so I only nodded. “I know how it goes,” I said, because I did. “We’ll work something out. Let me think about it, and we’ll discuss it when I get home. For now, I’ll keep the bones with me.”

  “I understand.” It was funny. When her eyes weren’t glowing and she wasn’t chanting, she seemed almost normal. Not quite, but almost. She still had a tense, feral posture that said she anticipated trouble—maybe from within—at all times. And every now and again, her eyes would twitch or her head would cock, like she was looking for something or listening for something that wasn’t there. But all things being equal, she didn’t come off any nuttier than somebody’s favorite aunt with a bunch of cats.

  I thought of Pita and realized I was heading down that road myself. I might only have one cat, but I sure was amassing a collection of other strays.

  “So that’s settled,” I announced. “You’ll head back to my place, and Ian and Domino will help you get settled in to some corner of the flat or another. They’ll bring you up to speed on the ground rules, not that there are very many of those. Meanwhile, me and Adrian will head for Atlanta, where everything will go smoothly and no one will get hurt, and everyone will have a productive time learning a great many useful things.”

  Elizabeth scooped her cards up into her palm and set them on the table with the rest of the pile. She gave me a funny look. “Right. I know sarcasm when I hear it, but I hope things go half that well, at least.”

  “It’s not sarcasm so much as desperate optimism. And mostly for the second half of what I just said. Actually, I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine in Seattle, assuming your trip is uneventful and the car is there waiting. And I’m still holding on to the bones.”

  She said, “I can make plenty of trouble without them, you know.” And it didn’t sound like she was bragging.