He finished toying with his cufflink and left, fixing me with a glare as he brushed past my bed.
“I did you a favor, you know!” I called to his back. “You can’t rule the world and live in it.”
Of course he ignored me, the ungrateful wretch. I climbed off the mattress and watched him go from my window. He had a car waiting in my driveway, a limo, actually. He bent down and slipped in back, so fluid and full of power. I shook my head, as if I could shake off his lingering charm. There hadn’t been much, his anger suppressing its touch. Really, I’d never seen him so incensed. He would get over it though, of that I was sure. And not because he cared for me a drop, but because I’d admitted to reading Demidov’s diary. The power he craved was not lost, it’d just changed position.
I sighed. Good thing I kept my mouth shut, I thought. It wasn’t the best time to press him about Nancy’s convention.
* * *
I didn’t go back to sleep after Reed left, my mind wouldn’t settle down and let me. I thought about Lucas, and seeing as I had hours to kill before my shift, I got ready and left, driving back to Brunswick to see him.
Lucas had been moved from the ER, and I found him in a mundane room, much like Bill’s had been, minus the handcuffs. He was awake, sitting up in bed, and I could immediately see that he was restless and bored—neither of which required emotions, just a lack of stimulation.
“Good thing I brought you this,” I said from the doorway, waving an unopened puzzle.
He turned to look at me, and for a minute we just stared. It was a confusing moment, my emotions a tangled mess, but it didn’t last long. Elaine interrupted.
“There,” she said, not noticing me as she swept out of the bathroom. She was carrying a sunny bouquet in her arms. “I filled the vase, and I think it would look best over here.” She set it on the bedside table, and then set to work, arranging the stems.
“Someone got you flowers?”
He shrugged.
“I did,” Elaine bit back, glaring at me from over her shoulder. “Which is more than I can say for you, his girlfriend,” she stressed. Demanding, “Where have you been?”
So, he hadn’t told her that we broke up. Good. I doubt he told her the truth of his wounds either, or anyone else for that matter.
Elaine didn’t like being ignored and took her revenge. She decided the flowers had received enough attention, moving on to Lucas. She leaned over him, her chest stuffed under his nose as she fluffed the pillows bunched up under his back.
“Leave for ten minutes,” I told her.
“Leave? I’ve been here since the moment they let me, taking care of him, wh—”
“Elaine,” Lucas said, cutting her off. He didn’t have to add anything else, one look, his face an enigma, and she huffed off.
I made sure the door was shut tight behind her, and then I stood by it, unsure of what to say next. Haltingly I began, “It won’t come as a surprise, but this is all my fault.” My voice broke and the tears began to seep, rolling freely. “But you— you should have answered them, or just admitted that we broke up. It might have made a difference.”
“It might have made a difference if you’d told me what was going on,” Lucas countered. “Why didn’t you say you were in trouble?”
“I think we’re a little past that, don’t you?” I couldn’t tell him everything, but I could at least be honest, brutally so. “We didn’t confide in each other when we were together, and now we’re not even that.”
He looked away, leaning back into the pillows. My sadness was leaching. “Yes,” Lucas said, his deep voice sounding oddly hollow. “You’re right.” He paused, then, “I was awake, you know.”
“What?”
“I went to your place, thinking maybe I could change your mind, and that’s when they grabbed me,” Lucas explained. “But I didn’t pass out, not until the knife.”
“But, why—”
“I knew that I couldn’t stop them. I tried, but it was three to one. They tied me down, had their fun,” Lucas said casually, so uninvolved. “And I just kept thinking about what would happen when you got home. I considered shouting, trying to warn you, but it wouldn’t have made a difference.”
“I know, Lucas. I know.”
He didn’t seem to hear me, droning on, as if to get it all out. “The only thing I could do was pretend to pass out. I thought it would make things easier for you, thinking I was asleep, that I couldn’t feel much.”
“It did help,” I said, weeping quietly beside his bed.
“Maybe,” he answered, staring straight ahead, eyes boring into the wall. “But that’s not the point. I should have been going out of my mind at the thought of them hurting you, but I was the opposite. In fact, my head was clearer than ever, calculating and cold. You deserve better than that.”
“I don’t think that,” I said, grabbing his wrist. I squeezed him hard, as if I could force the truth into him, and maybe I did, my emotions flowing over the both of us. “That’s not why I broke up with you.”
“I know, but you were right to do it. I’m not good for you.”
I wiped my face fiercely, annoyed by his talk. “Don’t ever say that to me again.” I sniffed. “It makes you sound stupid.”
Sensing my want, he finally looked at me. His eyes were shrewd and removed, and I knew what he meant. There was a keen intelligence behind them, and it ruled over him, picking up the slack that was his lack of emotion.
“I thought it would be easier if we didn’t see each other,” I admitted. “A clean break and all that... But I want to see you, if only as friends. And maybe we can start being honest. I’ll tell you of my troubles and help you with yours. And, Luke, I do think I can help you.”
He turned his eyes away, pulling back from me. “No. Elaine has been trying for years. I won’t have you wasting your time like that.”
“Well in case you didn’t notice—I’m not Elaine.” And because I couldn’t resist, I leaned down and kissed his cheek, whispering my next words to him there. “I will break the curse.”
I retreated from the room, leaving the puzzle for him, the box right next to Elaine’s unsuitable flowers.
“I noticed,” he called after me, his deep voice reaching me all the way down the hall.
Epilogue
Ben was under the big oak when I got to Sterling’s, busy picking seeds out of a piece of watermelon. He watched me pull up and park, probably expecting me to come over and chat. I didn’t, thinking it was best to make this quick.
I stashed my purse inside the office, grabbing the spare set of keys before going back out. I kept a quick pace, marching under the overhang, not hurried but sure. I stopped at room seven, letting myself in with nary a knock.
Tim was out, his stuff strewn about the room, totally disorganized. His guitar was on the bed, unusual, as he had a habit of carrying it everywhere, but lucky for me. Grabbing his bags, I stuffed them full, clothes, shoes, knick-knacks and hats. Everything was gathered up and carried off. I took it all out back, heaping a pile beside the shed. Ben kept a can of gasoline in there, and that was what I used to liberally douse Tim’s belongings. I knew how much his guitar meant to him... so I gave it an extra splashing. Ben found me just before I lit the match.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, sounding much less concerned than I would’ve imagined.
I fished Tim’s wallet out of my pocket and tossed it over. “Best bill him now,” I warned. “He won’t be around for much longer.”
“Why?” he asked wildly. “Do you plan to set him on fire too?”
I struck the match and shrugged, letting it drop.
Ben muttered something ugly and strode for the office, wallet tucked under his arm.
The fire climbed high right away, crackling orange and blue. I watched it eat Tim’s stuff, the guitar reduced to charred sticks before its owner found me. He strolled casually over, feeling good-natured as usual.
“Hey, Adelaide,” he greeted, glancing down int
o the flames. He did a double take. “Wait, is that—”
“You know, I thought it was a bit extraordinary that Lars didn’t believe me about Reed Wallace. He was convinced we were sleeping together,” I told Tim. “You saw us in the bathroom, and what a coincidence that Lars Hurst arrives just a day later!” I glared at him. “Extraordinary... or just a rat?”
Tim’s face lost all color. “I ran out of money in Amsterdam,” he hurried to explain, and I knew the excuses would be plentiful. “Met a guy, he worked for Mr. Hurst, said he would help me. It was a lot of money, and all I had to do was hang around and keep an eye on thin—”
“I don’t care,” I said bluntly. “Just go.”
He stared morosely down at the last bits of his guitar, small pieces that fell to ash, but he said nothing. He wasn’t a bad guy, not really, just weak. And it was for that reason that he went quietly, without a single protest. Maybe Ben gave him his wallet back, maybe not. I didn’t care.
I waited by the fire, watching until it burned out. It was hot and lonely. More than ever I needed Smith. I tried to be happy, thinking that if he had moved on then at least he was at peace. But I wasn’t. I’d been so busy trying to help Smith’s family learn the truth, trying to help them grieve and move on, that I never stopped to do it myself. How was I going to get by alone? Without Lucas? Without Smith?
I was a sloppy pot of emotions when Stephen found me. They were all over the place, and I even felt a smudge of anger towards him just then. How dare he be sad! He didn’t even remember Smith, didn’t know him like I did.
Stephen cleared his throat, lightly toeing the ashes.
Great, I thought sourly, he’s probably here to defend Tim.
“Adelaide, there’s something I want to say.” He cleared his throat again, nervous and awkward as ever. “I want to say thank you.”
Alright, I’ll admit, I was a little surprised.
“I’m not stupid you know,” he said defiantly, sparing me a quick glance. “You were involved somehow, I know it. But I’m grateful that you were.” He pulled the watch from his pocket, holding it out for me to see. “It was his, but I’m sure you already know that.” He gazed down at it. “It seems so unfair that he died for nothing, just some stupid corporate plot.”
I didn’t want to confirm his observations, but for Smith’s sake I couldn’t stop myself. “He was trying to protect a friend,” I corrected. “It wasn’t for nothing.”
Stephen watched me, nodding thoughtfully. “The funeral is Friday,” he told me. “I know you never met him or anything, but I think you should come.”
“I will,” I said without hesitation. If I had helped Smith complete his unfinished business, then it might be my last chance to say goodbye.
Stephen went off, taking the cleaning cart with him, the wretched thing moaning as he dragged it away. I started to stew all over again, thinking of how the days would slow. It would be like my first few years on the island all over again, home to work and work to home. I hadn’t minded that life then, finding the routine a balm to my new, volatile gift. But I enjoyed my companionship with Smith, my relationship with Lucas, both drawing me out, making me vulnerable in different ways. To go back, to return to my quiet solitude... it would be bearable, but not enjoyable.
“So Ben says you’ve crossed the line,” Francesca drawled, startling me from my cheerless thoughts. “He mentioned something about arson.”
“I suppose,” I admitted. “But Tim really had it coming.”
Francesca made a noise, part amusement, part something else. “I never know what you’ll do next,” she said, staring into the smolder. “I guess that’s why I’m here, just wanted to make sure you were still in one piece after last night.”
She was dressed up like Bettie Page, minus the bangs. She had on a pair of those catlike retro sunglasses, with cork wedges and the tiniest pair of shorts I’d ever seen, both showcasing her tanned, long legs. She looked like a movie star, perfect and interminable. As always, I just couldn’t believe she was my friend.
“I broke up with Lucas.”
Her initial reaction was surprise, but only a little, as if she’d been expecting this all along. The emotion that really showed through was her anger. “The hot ones are always assholes,” she seethed. “Fuck’im.”
“He didn’t cheat on me,” I said. “He didn’t do anything, really. It just... wasn’t meant to be.”
She thought I was in denial, but was too loyal to say so. “Spend the night at my place,” Francesca insisted. “We’ll eat ice cream and you can tell me all about it.”
I’d been drowning in misery, feeling sorry for myself, convinced I would die alone. What a self-centered bitch I was. I hadn’t thought of Francesca. How could I not think of Francesca? Sure, she might get married and move on too, but for now she was here, my friend. I wouldn’t forget it again.
* * *
I underestimated Missy’s interest in Tim. I knew she’d be mad that he was gone, but I didn’t know she’d go mad. After peeling the details out of Stephen (the poor boy crumbled like dry cheese) she started screaming. She was so overwrought I thought she might actually slap me.
To be honest, the whole thing was kind of therapeutic for her. She finally came to terms with her feelings, namely the anger and resentment she felt towards me. No longer bothering to conceal them, she called me every name under the sun, accused me of dying my hair, and said I had veneers.
I think she intended to upset me, but her tantrum had quite the opposite affect. I was suppressing laughter by the time I left Sterling’s, amused for sure.
I went home to grab some things, having agreed to spend the night at Francesca’s. Her neighbor’s feelings would seep in my slumber, but I could survive one crappy night’s sleep. After the demon dreams, I was getting used to it.
I’d just finished up packing a bag when I heard something, something that set my teeth on edge. It was a wheezing sound, the wet imitation of breathing. I glanced around my loft, wildly searching for the creature.
He seeped out of my armoire, an oily black smudge.
“Get out of my house!”
The blot of darkness drifted around my room, seeming to see without eyes, taking it all in. Shit.
“Get out!” I screeched louder. “I dismiss you, Raulriechmydl. Now, go!”
It hacked, a thick sound, floating over to taunt me. “That would work... if you had been the one to summon me.”
Bill knew the demon’s name, well, if he’d remembered it after his possession. Lars might’ve tracked him down, it would’ve been easy enough. But if that had been the case then I wouldn’t be standing in my room, but tied to a chair in my kitchen. So...
“Lars read the diary,” I concluded.
“Nooo,” the demon said, hovering over my bed. “I kept my end of the deal, destroying Demidov’s diary. Larson Hurst never read under its cover, of that I am sure.”
“Then how—”
“You never forbid me from giving my name,” the demon told me. “Yesss,” it cooed, seeing that I understood. “While you hid, cowering and afraid, I faced him. Such a strong man...”
Shit. Lars might not know how to bind a demon, but he had the power to summon one.
“I look forward to seeing more of you, my little peach,” the demon jeered. It sunk down into my bed, brushing over the blankets as it disappeared.
Well, crap. My first summoning and I’d buggered it up.
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