She checked a paper mill in Kansas and found that there was an abnormally high incidence of a certain chemical in a nearby city’s water and that several agencies believed it to be caused by the plant. The plant denied all charges and demanded proof. Though they were making money in greater quantities each year, Katharine put the file aside and looked for another option to recommend.
When Margot called and asked if they could grab a coffee while she had a break, Katharine offered a hasty yes and cleared out for the day. Lisa looked at her a bit funny as she left, but there was nothing to say. She had been prompt every single day before these last few months had kicked in. She had stayed late, had done just enough financial research into a corporation to recommend it or not–exactly what was asked of her. She had been nothing but a model employee. Now, Lisa looked about ready to run an intervention. And she would’ve had good cause. Drugs looked like a good fit for Katharine’s behavior. Sadly, drugs would have been an easier option to deal with.
The weather was beautiful, so she and Margot walked with their coffee drinks, which was probably a good thing, given the topic they landed on once they covered the details of Margot’s visit with her mother and father. Katharine wouldn’t have changed the subject, but she didn’t have much choice.
“Something happened. Tell me,” Margot finally broached the necessary subject.
She gave Margot all the details she had, right down to the shapes of Zachary’s bruises. Shaking her head, Katharine asked, “Do you think that’s really what’s going on? Some demon is chasing me? Or did we make up something to explain a prank we couldn’t understand?”
Somehow her friend seemed to understand. “You can’t just explain it all away as a prank. That’s been the whole problem since this started, if what you told me is true.”
“Yeah.” Taking a long sip of her coffee, Katharine asked what she’d wanted to all along. “Do you think it will just go away now? I’ve identified the problem. I’m cutting myself off from him, I …” There wasn’t much more to say.
“Who knows? I think we just wait.” Margot shrugged and let it go at that.
But Katharine worried. What if it wanted something? It had proven that it could get into her apartment. The marks on her arms had proven that it could not just get in, but get to her. Would it just quit?
And, more importantly, what would she do if it didn’t?
But she drank her coffee and changed the subject again. Margot would help if and when there was a need, and Katharine would cross that bridge when she got to it.
When Margot went back to run the evening shift at the library, Katharine headed off to her condo, then bolted herself into the unit. Then, feeling particularly brave, she squared her shoulders and inspected the carpet. After all, there was no ready explanation to give Allistair about that. Luckily, the carpet was clean.
She showered and primped, a little giddy at the thought of having him over. He was as much a drug to her as Zachary had been, but she felt safe with him now, in a way that she hadn’t felt in the last several months.
He arrived as planned, looking relaxed in jeans and a T-shirt and bearing grocery bags.
Katharine watched as he produced chicken breasts, asparagus, and mushrooms. He had a small bag of flour and a carton of six eggs. Several clear plastic containers held fresh herbs. He loaded several additional items into her fridge before she could see what they were. She imagined the refrigerator was probably as startled as she was; she didn’t think it had ever held actual ingredients.
He talked excitedly while he expertly chopped and seasoned the chicken. She offered to help, but when she admitted she had no usable kitchen skills other than opening wine, he produced a bottle of pinot gris from another bag and had her do the honors.
“It’s already chilled.” She was surprised. Somehow he had thought of everything.
“Of course, that’s the way it … tastes best.” A shrug dismissed the joy he was displaying. “I love food.”
It didn’t show. She tried to think back to the times they had eaten together, but nothing had foretold this. So she poured him a glass of the wine and leaned back against the counter offering conversation, really the only thing she could provide in a kitchen.
An hour later a covered baking dish holding dumplings, chicken, and many of the other ingredients he had brought was slid into the oven to bake. He offered her crackers and some cheese spread he swore by to tide her over while it baked.
He looked like a kid in a candy shop.
There was something about the way he was acting–the words slipped out before she thought about it. “Are we celebrating something?”
Immediately, she wished she could take it back. Instead, she braced herself for a deserved comment that they were in fact celebrating the end of her being a bitch to him.
Allistair smiled and said it in a much nicer way. “Yes. I never thought Zachary was right for you.” He clinked his glass against hers. “This is to open eyes. And second chances.”
When she smiled, she felt it clear through herself. It was no longer just a facial movement, but an expression of how she really felt. This time, he took her wine glass away and said before he kissed her, “All’s fair in love and war.”
They ate the sumptuous food he’d made, both of them practically moaning out loud at the taste. She had no idea he was such a good cook.
He laughed with her, freer than she’d seen him before. But then again, she’d only ever led him on as a cheap side deal to her acknowledged boyfriend.
When she kissed him hard and pulled him toward the bedroom, she thought for a moment that he might say no, but he quickly gave in. In a heartbeat, he became the lover she remembered from before, telling her how silky her hair was, how soft her skin felt.
She could be free with him, she told herself. And so she didn’t hesitate to ask him to stay with her.
“I’ll stay as long as I can.” Allistair looked into her eyes and seemed to see the shadow of fear that was creeping in as time alone loomed over her.
Still, she let herself fall deep asleep in his arms, in her own bed.
Later, she awoke slowly, the dark surrounding her but the smell of him still permeating the sheets. Naked and warm, she was sure he must have just left the bed. With a smile, she rolled over and buried her nose in the sheets. They were new sheets she had pulled from the back of the closet in an attempt to remove Zachary in human ways.
Her lips tugged into a well-sated half-smile, and she curled back into the warm spot in the bed and waited. But she didn’t hear anything. No running water, no sounds of someone stealing milk or leftovers from the kitchen.
Slowly, Katharine became aware of someone else in the room. In the corner, in the part that was shadowed. Had he sat at her desk and watched her sleep? There was something endearing about that idea. But still she wanted him with her.
Reaching out her hand to him, she called out in the dark, “Come back to bed.”
When he didn’t respond, she smiled. Surely he could see her; she was near the window and the light. Maybe he had fallen asleep at her desk chair. So she tried again. “Allistair?”
Finally, she heard a “Yes” in low and sleepy tones.
She reached her hand out just a little farther for him, her smile still layered on her face and even deeper in her soul.
But what reached back was dark and oily. Thick fingers, tipped in long claws, came at her as though to grab at her hand. She instinctively yanked it back. Into the small glow of the night came a heavily muscled arm with skin so inky it seemed to pull light from the air.
The name she knew tumbled off her tongue even as the gruesome face came into view. Its heavy breath infused the air and she fought not to breathe it in.
“Allistair?”
• • •
She couldn’t go into work. She couldn’t go down the hall.
Katharine was paralyzed with fear, and had been since the middle of the night, when she had screamed to wake the dead.
&
nbsp; She’d nearly keeled over of a heart attack when the knock came at her door not ten minutes later. Naked, she’d gotten enough courage to check the peephole, thinking it was Zachary, since no one had called up. But since it was building security, she had to tell them she’d be a minute, and then scrambled to pull on some sweats.
It seemed the two uniformed men just wanted to know if she was okay. She had to step into the hallway, as per the building procedure. The idea was that if she was being held hostage in her unit, they would know by her refusal. Or, in the hallway, supposedly a safe place, she could request protection or pass a message. But instead, she had pulled off the best acting job of her life. It was just a nightmare, she said. She hadn’t been sleeping well, and this one had been particularly scary. They had offered to search her apartment–also protocol. She let them, hoping they’d see the creature.
But it seemed it had truly disappeared when she screamed. The security detail didn’t encounter it.
Later, the one contact she had made this morning was to call the front desk and ask who had reported her scream last night. She lied yet again and gave the excuse that she wanted to apologize in person.
Though she hadn’t expected it, the attendant gave her the names. The unit beside her had called, as had the ones above, below, and one catty-corner to her bedroom. After thanking the girl, Katharine mapped out the calls in her head. Strangely, even though his unit abutted her bedroom, Zachary hadn’t called.
Had he seen Allistair come in? Or seen him leave?
Had Allistair even left?
She’d been so wrong about Zachary. Maybe it was a good thing she hadn’t gotten around to getting in his face and telling him what she knew–or thought she knew.
But now, how did she go into work and face Allistair?
Still in her sweats, she checked the carpet in the corner of her room. The sun was up now. If she opened the window, she could see the corner where the creature had been. She hadn’t dared go near it to hit the light switch. But there was no soot, no marks, nothing that suggested the thing had even been there.
One deep breath was all she needed to get herself going. Though she’d never made real decisions for herself before, she was always strong on discipline. She could follow protocol to the letter and never break form. She could stay aloof and separate. She could live the life her parents planned for her. And now, she could apply it to what she needed.
Pulling on jeans and a thin top, Katharine brushed her hair, checking the mirror for messages and finding none. She pulled herself together and grabbed her fully charged cell phone. She was halfway out the door when she turned back, realizing the folly in her plan. She dialed Margot’s library line from her home phone and shuffled her way through several steps in the automated system and even a person at the front desk before she reached her friend.
“Katharine! What’s up?”
“I was wrong!” She again told the whole thing, trying not to shake while she spoke. The words coming out of her mouth were absurd. There was always the question of complete insanity. She’d seen movies where the character was so convinced of the hallucinations he or she was seeing that they’d made up a whole universe. Maybe Margot didn’t even exist.
She tried to open her eyes and see the padded cell around her. Tried to feel the straightjacket or wrist cuffs that would keep her safe. But she could perceive none of it. Her greatest fear–that she wasn’t crazy–seemed to be the truth. So she had to do something about it. And she told Margot her plan, even though her friend didn’t think it was wise.
This time, when she headed for the door, she went through.
She kept her eyes peeled for Zachary in the hall and then in the parking garage. Katharine was grateful not to see him in either place; she really wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. But soon …
Four blocks away from the office, she called in and asked for Allistair, but only his voicemail picked up. A second call to Lisa told her that he wouldn’t be in this morning, and Katharine tried not to wonder why that was. Frustrated, but by no means ready to give up, she called Allistair’s cell phone and again got no answer.
She was driving to his place to confront him there when her phone rang. The display name was clear.
“Hello?”
“Katharine.” His voice was low and seductive, but with a hitch. It was as though he knew something was up.
Well, he did know, she thought angrily. And right then she realized it wasn’t wise to meet him at his house. She shouldn’t deviate from her plan. She’d originally intended to meet with him in a public place, and for good reason. Margot was expecting her to be there …
“Katharine?” His voice cut through her thoughts and she worked to get it together.
“I’m driving, I’m going to pull over.” She tucked the small car into an illegal spot that she hoped she wouldn’t be in for long. She was still four blocks off from the beach-walk houses where Allistair lived. She was in front of someone’s driveway, but she had bigger concerns than moving the car. Once she had the engine off, she started talking. “Can you meet me at the Coffee Bean in …”
She was going to say, in front of the Light & Geryon, but she didn’t want anyone she knew to see them there, to maybe butt into the conversation. She tried again, checking her phone for the address of a different coffee shop closer to his home.
As soon as he agreed, she clicked the call off and sent a message to Margot that she had changed the location and gave her the new address. Starting the car, Katharine headed off to find the place and stake her claim on a table. He said he’d be a few minutes, but that was fine with her.
She was waiting at a patio table with two drinks when she saw his car pull up. She took deep breaths as she watched him find a parking spot. He emerged from the small car, all fluid grace and good-looking male. She didn’t want to believe what she now knew. But that was part of the problem, wasn’t it? She hadn’t wanted to believe it was Zachary either.
Had Allistair done something? Set her up to go running back into his arms, just as she had yesterday? Her chest ached with the fact that she had trusted him. She had been an idiot. But she was remedying things. Right now.
He smiled as he approached, and though he didn’t notice, Katharine saw the lone woman at the far side of the patio give him a once over. He was in jeans and a T-shirt, and Katharine figured she had an idea what that meant.
As he spotted her and began to make his way over, she held out the drink she had bought him. It had begun to melt in the warm day while she waited, but that was too bad for him. Her drink was equally melted, as she had only been able to bring herself to sip it while she waited. He expertly wove his way past the empty tables and chairs. There was only the one woman out here, and Katharine had been pleased it was mostly deserted. There were enough people around that he wouldn’t be able to do anything, but it was sparse enough that she could say what she needed to.
And Margot was sitting at the sidewalk tables in the restaurant across the street. Margot wouldn’t let anything happen. Katharine was banking on that.
His fingers closed around hers as he took the drink. The feeling of his skin on hers was deceptively alluring, as it always had been. Margot had warned her about this, but Katharine took a deep breath and transformed the want into anger.
He was sitting across from her and smiling by the time she made herself look him in the face. But she saw his smile had an edge to it that indicated it was forced, and his eyes didn’t look quite at her. They tracked around her and focused right in front of her, and something flickered there, as though he was confused. Finally, he looked her in the eyes. “What did you want?”
“I want to talk about what I saw last night.”
This time his smile was warm–it sank into him, well below the surface–and for a moment, an answering depth flickered in her, too. But she twisted the feeling back where she needed it.
“What was that?” He took a sip of the drink, and she wondered if it cost him anything to appear so
casual.
“I saw your real face last night.”
She had intended to let it hang there. To let the words speak. But the jolt in his expression was too much. He knew. He was scared.
As she watched, he worked his expression back to looking calm. “What do you mean?” The words came out as slick and smooth as he was, and she was ready.
“Later, after I thought you had left … I saw you. I saw what you are.”
Again, for a moment he looked afraid, and again he pulled it together. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m just me.”
“That’s a convenient way to put it.” As she leaned forward she inhaled the soothing scent of him. But she wouldn’t let it get to her. She said what should either set her free or condemn her. “You aren’t human. You change. I’ve seen the animals in my apartment.”
“I …” He seemed at a loss. Feeling she had him, Katharine went further.
“I’ve seen your real face before, and you’ve scared the crap out of me. But last night, I finally realized it was you.” She sat back. She waited.
“What? What did you see last night?” He looked worried, very worried. He faked it well.
“What you really are.” Her heart was about to beat out of her chest, and he could probably sense that. Hell, maybe he could hear it or smell the fear on her. But she sat there, holding what ground she could, refusing to give in.
His mouth worked like a fish out of water. She waited. Finally he spoke again. “Katharine–”
But the sound of her own name on his lips was enough to push her over the edge. “I don’t know what you want from me, but I won’t give it to you–”
Katharine stopped herself mid-thought. Her voice had gotten just enough louder for the woman at the other table to look over at them. So she pulled herself back just a little.
He leaned in. “I don’t know what you saw last night, but–”
“Yes you do! I saw you! I see what you really are.” Her nerves had been held so tight they finally frayed. Though she outwardly appeared in control, she had snapped. “Do it! Do whatever you are going to do to me! Just get it over with!”
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