As grateful as he was to Tobias for all that he had done, Marc was very ready to return home to Chicago. He missed his apartment and hoped that Tobias and Inanna would understand his need for familiar surroundings. His destiny was tied to Tobias, certainly, and he committed himself to a long-term relationship with Inanna. There would be barriers to overcome and lessons to learn on both sides, but she was very possessive of him and he enjoyed her affections.
Just as Marc considered nudging Inanna awake for more such enjoyment, Tobias appeared in the doorway of the guest bedroom. Marc checked to make sure he was covered with something other than Inanna’s bare skin. He was relieved to see a silken sheet across his waist.
“We are leaving.”
Marc’s eyes lit up. “Now?”
Tobias smiled. “Not now. But soon. Today, we shall go.”
Marc glanced around the room. “Will we be, uh, coming back here?”
Tobias gave him a curious smile. “No.”
“I, uh, don’t exactly have much to pack. Do you need my help with anything?”
“Yes. You will help Inanna dress for the journey.”
Marc looked down at Inanna’s bare shoulder. “It would be my honor.”
Tobias gave a curt nod. “Join me for breakfast.”
Marc tried to wriggle free of Inanna. “Um, it might be a few minutes.”
“Of course.” Tobias turned and left the room quietly.
Marc gently shook Inanna’s shoulder. She moaned pleasantly and shifted a little. He hated having to pry her off him, despite how much he ached for something to eat. He slipped the sheet away from the two of them in hopes that the sudden exposure would cause her to awaken. It did not. He felt himself become aroused at her nakedness, and her utter lack of shame. She wasn’t going to acclimate well to the USA, he predicted.
He slid his hand down her back and rested it on her buttock. He gave it a quick slap. Inanna moaned pleasurably and opened her bewitching green eyes. Her full lips widened into a toothy grin. She whispered something in her mysterious mother tongue that gave Marc a thrill.
“Good morning to you too.” He stroked her hair. “Your brother wants us to join him for breakfast. Are you hungry? For food, I mean?”
Inanna lightly kissed his chest. Her hair fell onto his bare skin, and he enjoyed the lightness of the touch, erotic and sensual. Tobias wouldn’t appreciate being made to wait for the two of them. Then again, Marc reasoned, she was predictable in her passions, and he probably meant “after”. Her lips pressed against his body, over and over, her hair driving him wild as it swished back and forth upon him.
He dug his fingers into the mattress as her mouth worked its magic. Her tongue charmed him, drove him mad with fits of ecstasy, bringing him close to the brink of orgasm, only to tease him into waiting, saving himself for her. Back and forth, she brought him to the edge and led him tantalizingly away. Marc moaned and gripped the edge of the bed.
After she had worked her ways on him, she slid slowly up along his body, dragging her nipples against his flesh, and kissing it at intervals. She met him eye to eye, and he felt her legs straddle him. He gasped as he felt himself enter her. She rocked slowly up and down, pressing her hands to his chest. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the sensations of their contact. This was the best he’d ever had, no question. He doubted it would ever be better with anyone else.
Inanna leaned into him and kissed his neck. He squeezed her breasts as her hot breath rushed against his ear. She spoke just above a whisper.
“You are my king, my love, my life. I give myself completely to you. Do you take me? Do you take me as yours?”
Marc nodded vigorously and kissed her cheek. “Oh, God, yes, Inanna, you are my greatest gift.” It didn’t dawn on him that she had spoken clear English, out loud.
“Are you strong enough to take me? Do you have the power to control me? To command me?”
Marc moaned. “Yes, yes, Inanna, I am strong. Just like you said. Just like you told me before we met.”
Inanna gave him a strange look, but smiled once more and resumed her rhythms, rocking back and forth, bringing him closer and closer to the point of no return. She stared intently in his eyes.
“You would command a goddess?”
“Yes, yes, Inanna, I will command you. I’ll take you as mine and keep you forever. I’ll be your king, and you’ll be my queen.” He wasn’t very adept at sexy bedroom talk, but whatever it took to encourage more of this, he was willing to explore.
Inanna pouted. “I am no queen.”
Marc gripped her waist. “You’re my queen. And I’m your king. I’ll take you and command you. You will know my strength.”
“The strength of a god, more powerful than Inanna.” Her eyes flashed.
He nodded, aching to climax. “Yes, a god.”
Inanna smiled and kissed him. “Inanna is yours.”
Marc let out a cry of relief as he finally came. Inanna threw her head back and made sounds of her own. Her voice changed to laughter, and she pressed herself against his body. He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her close to him. She whispered something in her mother tongue as she stared at one of the statues that flanked the bed. Had Marc been fluent in her language, he wouldn’t have remained so relaxed.
You will adorn my temple. You are no god.
CHAPTER 69: THIRD SHIFT
Gene spent several hours on the floor of his cell. He stared blankly at Sharon’s head, rendered in clay and flattened on one side against the cool cement floor. He tried not to think of it as ever having been human, and more importantly, never having been hers.
He had been married twice and divorced just as often. Sharon was married once before as well, and other than occasional office rumblings that she was dating someone she met online or something, he knew precious little about her personal life. Theirs was a professional relationship, at best. He didn’t suffer visitors in his office for a reason: he’d had enough of people. After his marriage failed spectacularly the second time, he resolved himself to a solitary existence, both at home and at work. Letting people in just led to people getting hurt.
He was just warming up to Sharon, and this is what was left of her. He smacked his forehead and let his palm slide down his face and back to his lap. Stupid, Gene, stupid. Never let them in. This is what happens when you let them in.
The factory floor had been humming all though the night. He hadn’t bothered to look at what was going on. If they were building some elaborate death ray, they needn’t have bothered. He looked the opposite wall up and down and wondered if he could muster up enough energy to bash his head in against it and see if hell was any better. There wasn’t anything left in this world to keep him here. He lacked the energy to get up off the floor. Purgatory was all he could manage.
He heard voices on the other side of the door. Get it over with, he thought. He didn’t give a damn about the garbage picking anymore. He was willing to call it a draw. Sharon was lost to him forever. He wasn’t going back to Streets and Sanitation. He killed one of theirs. He meant to fire a warning shot but something primal had kicked in, something protective. Sharon was in his tribe and wounded. He was going to carry her back to their turf. The advancing workers were a threat to those plans. He had to assert his dominance. Now he was beaten and broken, without so much as a straight fight. He rubbed the back of his head, still expecting to retrieve blood, still disappointed to find none.
A key slid into the lock, and the doorknob turned. The door opened, and Gene fell onto his back. He stared up at a pair of workers. He had forgotten their names. He no longer cared to know. His investigation was over. The workers bent down and hoisted him to his feet. They dragged him from his cell, arms hooked under his, pulling him backward across the factory floor. He saw rows and rows of folding tables with workers seated in metal folding chairs molding clay into bricks. Gloria leaned over one and directed her to knead the air out of the clay thoroughly to remove any air bubbles. She demonstrated the pr
oper technique, and the worker nodded at the visible improvement.
He saw a pile of completed bricks at the end of one of the rows of tables. It stood at least eight feet tall, stacked in neat layers. He passed through a layer of plastic curtains and down a hallway. The workers marched along, not looking at him, and not speaking to him or anyone else.
Doors banged open, and Gene felt a chill as they reached an area that bordered the outdoors. He swiveled his head around to see where he was, and after a few steps the workers stood him up straight and stepped away from him. The room was the same dull cinder block construction as everything else. He was about to turn his head to look at one of them when everything went black.
A third worker lowered his shovel. Gene’s escorts guided his fall into a rusty shopping cart. They nodded to the third worker, who gripped the handle and steered the cart through another set of double doors and into the chilled morning air.
CHAPTER 70: RENT
Gracie reached over for her cell phone and checked the time. She winced when the display seared her retinas, and groaned when the time read 8:05 A.M. She set the phone face-down on her nightstand, then rolled over on her right side.
Agnes had tucked her in during the night after sitting with her for at least an hour. Gracie thought darkly of the dream that somehow led her to fall out of bed. She hadn’t done that since she was six. She might as well have wet the bed for good measure, but Agnes didn’t judge her. She gave her water to sip and made sure she was okay going back to sleep before leaving her alone. Gracie resolved to be nicer to Agnes but wasn’t sure how.
She knew that the visit to the hair salon had been purely fictional. Lucie and Marti were just her fears made real. However, she was intimidated by Trixie, and despite her annoyance with being taunted by her imaginary bodyguards, they did have a point. What did Gracie have to offer her? Her name was fake, and antiquated. She had a part-time job, although that seemed highly unlikely after not showing up the day before and spending the bulk of the afternoon in Chicago. She had a driver’s license but no car, possibly a job but very little money, few friends, and her only serious relationship was with a girl with a fake name who couldn’t bring herself to be honest about who she was.
She knew she was psyching herself out about Trixie. She knew very little about her. Gracie found her attractive. Her salon showed a sense of personal style that suggested that Trixie knew who she was and what she liked. She didn’t appear to give a damn what anybody thought of her or anything else. She probably did like strange music, had stranger friends, and hung out at places that Gracie couldn’t begin to imagine. The most radical thing her town had to offer was roller derby, and that was once or twice a month for half of the year. Trixie seemed into derby, which Gracie used to her advantage—and grimaced at the thought that she lied about that too—just to get close to the object of her affection.
She doubted she would ever see Trixie again anyway. Agnes had weird powers, apparently, and while she took her to Chicago against her will she wasn’t sure how easy it was for her to do it again. Marc’s apartment being on fire might have been enough of a catalyst to get her there, but if she tried it again maybe she’d end up in Hackensack. In any case, she didn’t know how to brooch the subject with Agnes. Gracie rolled onto her back, stretched out and yawned loudly.
She was going to have to beg Warren for forgiveness and try to salvage her job. She hated Warren and most of the things she did there, but it was reliable income and she couldn’t afford to just throw it away without a serious upgrade nailed down. She’d find a way to convince him that it was just a big misunderstanding and show him that she took the job seriously. Then again, working there would mean she’d run into Aimee sooner or later.
She shrugged and rolled out of bed. Break-ups happen, she thought. If Aimee has a problem with it, she can find a derby girl’s shoulder to cry on… assuming she wasn’t already doing that already.
Gracie stepped out into the hallway and headed for the bathroom she shared with Agnes. She expected to have to wait her turn and was surprised to see the door wide open and the lights off. She looked around furtively, then slipped in to the bathroom and closed the door quickly.
Ten minutes later, she made her way down the stairs to grab a cup of coffee to get the day started. The rink wasn’t going to be open for another two and a half hours, and Warren wouldn’t be there until at least a half hour before open.
Mother sat at the dining room table with Agnes. She turned and nodded to Gracie. “Oh good, you’re awake. I need to talk to both of you.”
This isn’t normal, Gracie thought. She gestured toward the coffee maker and served up a cup before padding over to the table and taking a seat. Agnes looked down at her oatmeal pensively. Gracie sipped a bit of coffee. It was too hot to drink. She put her mug down and looked over at her mother.
“Your Father and I have decided that it’s time for you two to pay rent.”
Gracie’s eyes bulged. “What for? You didn’t make Marc or… anyone else pay any.”
“Marc and Jackie went away to school, and they got jobs and their own places to live afterward. You two are taking a little longer to find your place in the world.”
Agnes looked at Gracie mournfully. “Mother’s right. We should pay our fair share.”
“Easy for you to say. Your job…”
Agnes shook her head. “I don’t have a job anymore.”
Gracie reeled. “What? How come?”
“The research was… unethical. I found out that they were far more interested in making money than helping people.” Agnes sniffled.
Mother sighed. “I never did like you working there anyway. You need something more stable with better pay and benefits. So, this might be a blessing. You have an opportunity to improve your prospects.”
Gracie eyed her mother suspiciously. “Prospects for what, exactly?”
Mother looked a bit surprised at the inquiry. “Why, to find a suitable mate! A respectable man isn’t going to have much interest in young ladies who don’t show that they can take care of themselves.”
Gracie’s ears reddened.
Agnes intervened. “How much would you like us to pay?”
“We figure one hundred a month from each of you to start. But you need to get better jobs. If we don’t see improvement, your father and I will have to raise the stakes. But I’m sure we won’t have to do anything rash. We like having you two around. We just want you to… grow up a little.”
Gracie fumed and slurped down her coffee.
Agnes smiled sadly and nodded. “Yes, mother.”
Mother turned to Gracie. “Agreed?”
“Yeah.”
Mother excused herself to go back upstairs, presumably to deliver the news to their father that a verbal lease had been agreed upon.
Gracie leaned back in her chair. “How’s this going to work?”
Agnes spoke softly. “I don’t know.”
Gracie looked up and exhaled slowly. “Great.”
CHAPTER 71: THE VISITOR
Breakfast was awkward. Tobias didn’t say anything, but his body language suggested that he didn’t particularly appreciate being made to wait while Marc and Inanna enjoyed a romp in the sack. Marc wanted to apologize somehow but wasn’t sure how to do it gracefully. Inanna made no attempt to smooth things over between the three of them.
If anything, she seemed to be antagonizing her brother. Marc caught her sucking on a sausage link suggestively, then bit into it when she saw that she had been spotted. Tobias glowered at her but said nothing. Marc sipped a glass of water and considered asking for coffee. Then again, he thought airily, Inanna seemed to get him stimulated just fine.
Marc tried to break the stalemate. “Uh, thanks for breakfast.”
Tobias nodded and said nothing.
“I’m looking forward to getting back to Chicago. Have you ever been there?” Marc winced. Small talk wasn’t his strong suit, and Tobias hadn’t said anything about going to Chicago. Marc ho
ped Inanna didn’t pick up on the slip.
Tobias looked up from a forkful of food. “I believe so.”
Marc’s jaw dropped. “Uh, where? Downtown?”
Tobias did not reply.
“Gold Coast, maybe?”
Tobias set down his fork. “Gold…?”
Inanna leaned forward with great interest.
Marc looked at each of them, trying to figure out how to explain the various neighborhoods. “Uh, yeah. There’s an area just north of the Loop that they call the Gold Coast. Lots of rich people live there. It’s just an expression.”
“It is a place rich in gold?” Tobias seemed troubled at this revelation.
“Um, well, not exactly, though I’m sure somebody has investments. No, we mean it like, rich people kinda flock there, like, uh, a tribe. Wait, that’s not the best way to put that.”
“A tribe?”
Marc waved his hands dismissively. “No, no, not at all like that. They don’t all know each other. And I’m sure most of them, if not all, are just rich on paper. They don’t have piles of gold coins they swim around in or anything like Scrooge.”
“Scrooge?”
Marc’s face fell. Bad example. “Well, he’s not a real person. If someone is rich and they hoard lots of money, we call people like that ‘Scrooge’, especially if they’re really selfish.”
Tobias frowned, then gave Marc an imploring look. “Do the people call me this name?”
“Um, well, no. At least, I don’t think so. I mean, this is a nice place and everything, but you give money to charity, right?”
Tobias looked bewildered. “Charity?”
“Yeah, places that help other people who are less fortunate. Like, if someone has no food, they give them food to eat.”
Tobias nodded. “Yes, I am generous to those in need. I have been unfortunate, as you say. I am not cursed with an uncaring heart.”
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