“My deeds speak for me, not that tangle of names that clutch at history. Tell me. What are your deeds?” She approached the computer.
“Numerous, dark, and manipulative.” He shrugged. “Haven’t you heard the reports? The Fates don’t think much of me; nor does Glycon.”
“I’ve never heard of you.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “I get that a lot too. Whatever my press, I’m the one who intends to survive you.”
“ ‘Intends.’ ”
“I’ll confess, it’s not up to me.” He stood, spreading his palms. “I’ll start with an oath.” He crossed his heart. “I swear to never harm your mortal, Naomi Bradford.”
“As you swore not to harm Glycon?”
“I swear it for Naomi more deeply than I did for Glycon—I’ll follow the spirit for you, not just the letter.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You won’t at first.” He sighed. “You’ve little reason to. If you haven’t figured it out, I’m the reason for all this. Glycon had originally targeted the family of Senator Wulf. I took Wulf out of play through… various means. I knew when Glycon couldn’t get to Wulf, he’d target Bradford and his daughter instead. I nudged him that direction, knowing it put your friend in danger.”
Ryn’s hackles rose. “For that, you’ll die.”
“I knew you’d defend her.”
Glaring at him, she shook her head. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Not true,” he chuckled. “I know everything about you. And, while you’re old and deadly, you’re not terrifically complicated. For instance, I also know that no matter how mad you are at me, you’ll go after Glycon for what he did.”
“I’m coming for you both.”
“Splendid.” Another strange smile. “I cannot feed you information about Glycon directly without violating my own oaths. But I do wish you luck—at least, in regards to hunting my rival. As for me? Now I’ll slink away and hide; avoid you and your mortal as best I can. Glycon, as you know, lacks my characteristic humility. You hurt him. He’ll come for you; he’ll come for Naomi. If you love your mortal, you’ll deal with Glycon first.”
She balled her fists, prepared to cleave this young god into a dozen pieces for daring to put Naomi in danger and manipulate Ryn for gain, all in one bold stroke.
“I’d love to talk more.” He shook his head sadly. “But I’m afraid I’ve got to blow up the warehouse now.”
“Why?”
“Tradition?”
“I’m unfamiliar with this tradition,” she said.
“I’m keen on making new ones.” He removed a smartphone from his pocket, punching a button. A large number “10” superimposed on the screens. It ticked to “9.” It took until “8” for Ryn to realize what was happening.
Sprinting past the computer, she tore it in half on the way. She slid along the floor, snapped the hissing cat into her arms, and broke a side door from its hinges. She’d vaulted the outer fence when the explosion hit her back. It sent shrapnel into the sky for hundreds of feet.
Ryn rolled to a stop as fire and debris fell on all sides. She shielded the cat, and once the last piece of smoking sheet metal rang against the asphalt, she peeled the traumatized animal from her shoulder and tossed it aside.
“Two gods to kill,” she whispered. A dangerous task, especially with her heart invested in a fragile human being. But she saw no other path, especially since Set had spoken the truth about Glycon—he wasn’t humble, and he wouldn’t let Ryn’s encroachment on his territory go unpunished. They were on a collision course, one engineered by Set.
She kicked over a flaming stack of cinder blocks and waded through the rubble. Let him come, she decided. I will darken his whole world.
~*~
A tiny gremlin crouched alone in Glycon’s pocket world, cold snow underfoot and dark trees towering on all sides of them. The altar at the clearing’s center was cut from an ancient stump, its roots burrowed like great claws into the ice. The emaciated creature was all knobby joints, combing down its bristled fur to make itself more presentable before him. It bowed, bat ears drooping in a show of submission. “…that is all I knows, Lord Glycon. I swears it.”
“Spare me your groveling.” How he despised gremlins. But he’d run into… issues… with his cult, and so was forced to rely on outside contractors. Far outside, he mused. “Were you able to recover any part of Mr. Saxby?”
“No part recoverables, not a one. We searches the forest high and low, my brothers and I. All we finds was the lab, the pieces police stored. Those is here.” It waved to the two suitcases in the snow.
“Very well. Your payment.” He passed the gremlin a manila envelope.
With deft fingers, it checked the papers. Six authentic certificates for the adoption of six young children. “They is healthy? Had their shots, teeth real good?”
He scowled. “I’m no roadside vendor. It’s in order. Healthy specimens all. Now begone!”
The gremlin stooped and scraped on its way out of the portal. Glycon sealed his pocket world with a dismissive wave of the hand, knelt, and opened the briefcases one at a time. He lifted free a glass jar that contained the decomposed remains of a rodent, bristles of white fur still visible amidst the rot. In the center, though, pulsed several still-living eggs; and beneath the pink, Glycon detected faint signs life.
He smiled. “It’s a start.”
~*~
Mark stayed in the car but insisted on driving Naomi to her friend’s apartment, since it was around the corner from a place dubbed “Murder Alley” for the fact so many corpses showed up there. David Kessler had given her the address after her dad started asking for it—apparently he wanted to send thank-you flowers. Upon hearing Ryn lived by Murder Alley, he’d asked instead about sending a thank-you gun.
Ryn’s building was grayed with age, accented with fresh graffiti layered over the old. The elevator seemed a little deathtrappy, so she took stairs that smelled faintly of urine, climbing to the top floor.
Ryn had the only top-floor apartment, the stairwell exiting to a short corridor. The imposing door was made from steel and bolts, and after she knocked, it opened just a crack. Ryn peered through, wearing new glasses that were the same model as the pair Denise had bought her.
“I thought—”
The door shut with a clank.
“Okay.” Naomi blinked at the door. “I understand communication isn’t your forte, but you shouldn’t just—”
A rattle of the security chain and Ryn swung the door wide, stepping aside to motion her in. “You’re welcome here.” Peering past her, she added, “But just you.”
“I’ll keep your clubhouse totally on the down-low, promise.” She flashed the Scout’s-honor sign. The space was open-aired and almost featureless, though all Naomi could initially think was, She is way too short to have her own place. Especially somewhere so… tall. It had bare wood floors with a drab area rug, and a dais on the farthest edge was furnished with a four-poster bed. Every wall was smooth, white, and unpainted. With its vaulted ceiling, she couldn’t decide if it reminded her more of a gymnasium or a barren cathedral.
“Why are you here?” Ryn shut the door with another clank and she fidgeted.
“Missed you.” She toed at the floor. “I thought since we kissed, I might, um, see you once in a while. Not that I necessarily deserve that, after yelling at you and accusing you of putting a spell on me.” She cleared her throat. “I was kind of a jerk, wasn’t I?”
Ryn shrugged.
Something was the matter, and Naomi squinted, trying to figure it out.
The attention made Ryn transparently uncomfortable and she twisted one hand around her opposite wrist.
Why’s she so freaked out? Naomi straightened at the realization: here was a deific creature who had never so much as had a friend before her, and now they had kissed. “Do I make you nervous?”
“No,” she lied.
Naomi approached, gently touching her friend�
�s cheek. The raven-haired girl startled, but didn’t back away. “Don’t be. I still like you.”
“There’s more.” Ryn leaned slightly into her hand. “There are dangers. Beings who are going to hunt me; who I have to hunt. They may try to harm you. Everything is so fragile. Easily broken, easily lost.”
“They’ve already tried to hurt me,” she said evenly. “You’ve saved me more than once, and every day’s a gift I wouldn’t have had without you. So there’s no reason for guilt.”
Ryn nodded but didn’t look up.
“And they’d be coming for me even if we weren’t together, wouldn’t they?”
“Probably.”
“So there’s nothing to do except your best.” Before she could disagree, Naomi drew her into a hug. At first, the monster’s whole body stiffened, but the longer she held on, the more Ryn relaxed into her. “Come to my house this weekend.”
“Why?”
“Dad’s orders.”
“But why?”
“Big mystery. You’ll have to show up if you want to know.”
Ryn shifted, having locked her hands behind Naomi’s back. “It sounds like an ambush.”
Naomi inhaled, the deva’s hair possessing a woody smell like oakmoss, but with something of a sweeter note. “What if I’m part of the ambush?”
The slight creature shivered in her arms. “I might like that.”
“Then come.” She hesitated and kissed Ryn’s cheek, wanting to taste her mouth again but not yet as courageous as she’d been in the tent. The light of day had reminded her how much of her life was invested in being Naomi Bradford, future hetero wife and mother-of-two; there were so many unknowns. What if everyone talked? What if she fell for some amazing guy and ended up just leading Ryn on? The combined weight of those fears applied just enough inertia to keep the kiss affectionate but chaste. “So you know,” she said slowly, “I’m still figuring stuff out.”
“Do you want to do what we did in the tent again?” Ryn asked, blunt as ever.
She hesitated. “Like I said, I’m figuring it out.”
Ryn bit her lip. “Did you like it?”
Naomi nodded, the heat in her face confirming the truth.
Neither could quite look the other in the eye, but Ryn released her. “Then I’ll wait.”
~*~
Ryn heard by way of Ms. Cross that both Kessler and O’Rourke were being praised for having followed the Glycon cultist. They’d stopped the worshipers from feeding someone to a giant snake and this was apparently good for their careers, especially since a lot of the men feeding people to the snake were rich or powerful—owners of companies and nonprofits, involved in the film industry or federal government.
She asked, but no one told her what they’d done with the snake.
In July, Ms. Cross and Kessler both visited at once and Ryn instinctively locked down at the sight of them together. They sat near one another and sometimes held hands; it didn’t seem fair how they’d joined forces. It was cheating.
Ms. Cross cleared her throat. “You’re going to finish school.”
Next came Kessler: “What Victoria means to say is, rather, we think it’s important. Not just for the degree, but because it’ll integrate you better. We’re here to encourage you to do the right thing, not make ultimatums.”
“Though we also insist,” Ms. Cross said.
“Gently,” Kessler added. When Ms. Cross glanced at him and did something with her eyes, he cleared his throat. “But firmly.”
“The school won’t have me.” Ryn folded her arms. “There’s no point in talking about this.” There. Done.
“We’ve researched private schools.” Kessler slid a glossy pamphlet across the table. “Your grades are actually good. Given your, uh, ‘inheritance,’ money’s not an object. This school is selective, but it’s our favorite.”
Ryn tore the pamphlet in half. “No.”
“That’s Madison Academy,” Ms. Cross said.
Quickly matching the two halves together, Ryn recognized the gates on the front. “Naomi goes here.”
“The thought had occurred to us,” Ms. Cross said, pleased.
“School. With Naomi?” The idea wasn’t wholly bad.
“It’s prestigious,” Kessler said. “Kids with your background aren’t well-represented there, but I can get a letter of explanation that’ll better reflect the reasons for your expulsion. With a letter of recommendation from Victoria and me, that gets us most of the way there. The fact that you’ve apparently pleased a sitting U.S. senator will round out your recommendations nicely.”
Ryn nodded.
“You’ll keep your grades up, of course.” Ms. Cross said it like the thing was decided. Perhaps it was.
“And there’s one more thing,” Kessler said. “Madison requires a parental guardian. So you’ll live with me.”
Ryn shook her head. “I live here. I like it here. I own it for one year; that’s the law.”
“All right,” he said. “Crash here now and then, when you need to. But take the spare room at my new place. It’s closer to Madison, since I’m in the Central Precinct now with O’Rourke. It’s closer to Naomi, too. I’ll work up the foster-parent paperwork. That is, if you trust me enough. I know that’s hard for you. I get it.”
Ryn felt cornered.
“We care about you,” Ms. Cross said.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because we do,” Kessler said.
“But why?”
Ms. Cross took a breath and let it out. “Because we love you, you silly girl. Both of us. Tremendously. We want you to succeed; we want you to flourish.”
“I tried to tell you before,” said Kessler. “I had to go halfway around the world to find it, but you’re part of my family now, Ryn.”
She stood, but they did too. She wanted to back away but couldn’t, not because her path was cut off, but because another part of her didn’t want to. Instead, she took a hesitant step forward and Kessler hugged her. She set her head into his chest and, like always, he smelled like the safest person in the world. She realized she was hugging him back and squeezed.
He let out a sound that meant he couldn’t breathe. She loosened her grip.
Ms. Cross hugged them both too and she wondered if that was family. If it was, it still tasted funny in her mouth. But maybe not completely, entirely bad.
~*~
Kessler and Ms. Cross drove Ryn to Naomi’s house on the appointed night, and Ryn had to dress nice—which meant wearing the clothes Naomi had picked out for their double date. It felt odd to arrive by car instead of rooftop, and when she entered, Senator Bradford met her in suit and tie.
“The guest of honor,” he announced. “I hope you don’t mind my secretly engineering this dinner through well-placed calls to your loved ones. It’s in your honor of course.”
“Why?” Ryn asked.
“New family rule. Anyone who saves my daughter’s life more than once gets a dinner. Thank you, Ms. Miller.”
“I am called Ryn.”
“If we’re being particular, call me ‘the Senator.’ I like to hear it.”
“Do not call him that,” Naomi said from the top of the stairs. She was gorgeous, her hair an auburn halo, dressed precisely as she’d been on the night of their double date. Except now it was Ryn who stood speechless at the foot of the stairs, listening to the flutter of her own heart. Naomi wore a secretive smile, knowing precisely what she had done. The clever mortal had finally gotten the thing she’d so wanted, but instead of a boy it was Ryn who gawped at her elegant descent of the staircase.
Dinner was served at the table, a spread Naomi and Denise had prepared, though Elli was supposed to have helped—they accused her of leaving it all to them, having spent all her time texting Horatio, who she was now dating with Naomi’s permission. There was salad, some kind of mixed fruit, and steamed legs from a large crab.
“To open it, you do this,” Naomi said, picking up a nutcracker.
Ryn figur
ed it out first. She grabbed it at both ends, snapped it in half and rent it apart, plucking the meat from inside. “Like this?”
Naomi stared at the shell debris all over her plate. “Sure.”
It was great fun, actually—the challenge of ripping the meat’s armor off before eating it. Ryn enjoyed the entire process and Senator Bradford and Kessler both made jokes at her expense. It didn’t stop Ryn from finishing perhaps one too many crab legs, because there was no hunger at all left in her belly. She disliked the satisfaction that came from too much food—it robbed her of her edge, slowed her down. But sitting at the warm table, part of her liked it. Just this once, she decided.
Senator Bradford tapped a goblet with his fork. “To round the evening out, I just got off the phone with the admissions committee at Madison Academy. I understand Ryn will receive an acceptance letter any day now. Also, I think Naomi has something for you.”
“We have something for you,” Naomi said. “We all chipped in.” She held out a small box with a red ribbon around it.
Ryn took the box and pulled off the top, revealing a shiny, black cellular phone. She handled its weight and inhaled the plastic scent. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s definitely not to eat,” Denise said helpfully.
“It’s to keep in touch,” Naomi said. “This way I don’t have to physically go to your house, or wait for you to show up here. Turn it on. I’ll show you how it works. We’ve paid the first few months.”
Ryn wasn’t sure she wanted a phone. But she liked how close Naomi sat while they went over how it worked, and she maybe didn’t catch on as fast as she could have.
Kessler and Ms. Cross excused themselves after dinner, since Ryn insisted she could take the train home. Elli and Denise left next, and when the hour grew late, Naomi yawned and stretched. “To bed with me. Denise and I are doing Scout things tomorrow. You’re invited if you don’t mind babysitting itty-bitties.”
Ryn didn’t like small children. They were clumsy. But because Naomi would be there, she nodded. “All right.” After a stiff hug that seemed too quick, they said goodbye. Ryn left through the front door. On the porch, she smelled the summertime garden and savored the electric glow of their mothy porch lights.
The One Who Eats Monsters (Wind and Shadow Book 1) Page 39