It made me kind of mad that the girl in the maid costume at the front desk might not be old enough for high school, but I could barely deal with my own problems right now. Her “Uh,” could have been a perfect twin for Rat’s, but a much older woman stepped up in front of her. She could have been the voodoo witch’s sister.
“I want a room and a girl for the night, without the girl,” I told the old lady. Sticking my arm between the layers of my top, I pulled out the coin and slapped it down on the counter top.
“Why would you come here for that?” the madam asked. Yeah, she and the witch could be twinsies. Backbone straight as a ruler, a guarded but not angry stare, no accent and every word sharp.
“Because whatever a girl is in this place, she’s not a target,” I answered.
Made of steel, this lady. “Why would I rent you a room?” she asked.
“Because you save the cost of the girl?” I shot back.
Behind me, someone squealed, “She kin talk! Dat’s so cute!”
The little blonde had both of Scarecrow’s hands, pulling her out into the middle of the room. It seemed like every unaccompanied girl in the building descended like pigeons to coo over her. I couldn’t make out what any of them said over the babble until the Asian girl dropped a hat on Scarecrow’s head and the little blonde crowed, “You gotta trah on mah gloves!” Her accent made me want to beat my head against the desk.
“It seems the decision’s been made for me,” the old woman said. She picked up my gold coin and turned it from side to side, then added, “You’ll get your change in the morning. Fabre—”
The too young girl in the maid costume was with the rest of them trying to tie a corset onto a laughing Scarecrow. How they thought anything might fit was beyond me. Scarecrow was half their size.
The old woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a ring of keys, slipped one off, and held it out to me. “220, at the end on the second floor. You’re free to lock yourself in as you please. Pardon me while I extricate your companion.”
“She doesn’t sleep, so she might as well have fun,” I said as she rounded the desk. The madam didn’t show any sign she heard me, but I wasn’t worried about it. Mostly I was tired. I trudged up the carpeted steps, checked which way the numbers ran, and walked all the way down the hall to 220.
The room wasn’t locked. It was as gaudy as anything downstairs, but not big. It had a bathroom. With a shower. Oh, thank you.
I dropped Rat onto the bed and untied the hood and cape. I’d figured he was shell shocked, but instead he said in a careful tone, “It would have turned out alright. Pain and sacrifice would have made her real.”
“We’ll find a way that doesn’t involve pain and sacrifice. Maybe it’ll take a while. I don’t care.”
“Being alive hurts. There’s no way around it,” he said.
“That doesn’t make it right to torture her,” I replied. At least one of us should have been mad, but it didn’t seem to be happening. It took most of my effort to undo the laces in my bodice. I’d forgotten how idiotic this Red Riding Hood costume was.
“You would have been willing to go through it yourself.”
“If I don’t protect other people better than I protect myself, I’m doing a lousy job. Sacrifice is only something you make yourself do,” I answered. I pushed my shoes off my feet. There. Naked. I cut off further argument by stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind me. Not because I wanted to stop talking about it, but because I wanted the shower.
The water was wonderfully hot. Much later, shriveled like a prune, I staggered out, found my underwear, and collapsed onto the bed. Did beds get this soft? Apparently they did. I sank way down into the mattress, Rat crawled up onto my chest, and I turned off like a light.
I hadn’t actually turned the lights off, as I found out when I woke up. Rat had gone right to sleep, curled up on my chest so tightly I couldn’t spot head or tail or anything. He looked like a lump of brown fuzz. When I lifted him off my chest and laid him on his back on the bed, four little legs stuck up in the air, but he remained asleep. It wasn’t dawn yet, but I’d gone to bed awfully early if I really thought about it. I felt awake now. Wide awake.
I pulled a big hunk of cheese and a bottle of root beer out of my satchel, threw on my dress and shoes, and wandered out onto the balcony to eat. What a beautiful night. The glass doors had shut out the noise of the street, and up here on the second floor, it was surprisingly muffled anyway. Whatever the hour was, the street was still busy. I’d never been to New Orleans, but of course I’d heard about beads and Mardi Gras and all. Maybe this was what New Orleans had lost, this twenty-four hour, year-round party. The rest of the city had been garish, but not like this one. My eyes wandered over the crowd, down to the corner, and I stared hard at a sign until I finally made out the name. Bourbon Street.
I looked up at the sky. The moon had switched sides, but it still hung there, huge, white and round. There’s a moon over Bourbon Street tonight. Being stuck with a second hand out of date music collection might just have saved my life.
I swallowed the cheese and downed the whole root beer in one long series of swallows. These might be seconds I didn’t have, but it was good stuff with a lot of fizz and I just couldn’t waste it. Then, I tied the cape and hood on as fast as I could, slung the satchel onto my shoulder, grabbed Rat off the bed and shoved him into it. As he squeaked desperately, I snapped, “The Wolf is coming. He’s not coming, he’s here. We’re getting out of here before he decides to come in after us.”
I bounded down the stairs, threw the key onto the desk, and yelled at Fabrette, “Is there a back door out of here?”
“It’s through the kitchen!” Scarecrow answered, hopping out of a chair by the fireplace.
Oh, cripes, they’d dressed her in a red skirt a lot like mine, except even tartier.
I didn’t have time to worry about it. I grabbed her outstretched hand. “We run. Now.” Then, I did just that.
The kitchen was big, and people were cooking, and it smelled great but I didn’t have time for any of that. I ran through it to the little door and ducked out into another alley.
“Waterfront,” I snapped at Rat. He poked his nose out of the satchel, turned it around in a few directions, and pointed. Scarecrow and I ran that way.
What would be safest? Did it matter? We hit a main street, and I slowed down and walked along it. I struggled to walk, to try and blend in with this otherworldly crowd. My Wolf could be anywhere. Every step took me farther from Bourbon Street, and I had to hope he was still back there, watching the brothel. He’d get some kind of sick thrill from thinking I was in there, I knew that. Maybe it would hypnotize him, and he’d be slow to notice I’d snuck out.
I was guessing. Whatever he was doing, my best bet was to get down to the harbor and get on a boat, stowing away if I had to, and sail far away from here. It was a shame, but fairy tales were too dangerous to hang around in. I’d let the sea—
A wolf face stared out from under a hood on the next block. I yanked Scarecrow into the gap between buildings, then stopped and took a few breaths. Just a man in a mask. He wasn’t big enough to be my Wolf.
“What’s going on?” Scarecrow asked beside me. “You look unhappy. When you’re mad, you’re happier than this.”
“She’s—” Rat started to say, but I wrapped my hand around his head and held his mouth shut.
“I’m running away from a wolf.”
“I didn’t think you ever ran away,” Scarecrow said.
“You don’t know me very well,” I growled.
“Of course, there was the yellow fog. I don’t think that counted as running away. You just went around it and kept going,” Scarecrow rambled in her ditzy, little girl voice. I raised my fist to smack her over the head, locked my muscles until I had control of them again, and wrapped my hand over her mouth. Her mouth couldn’t move anyway, but maybe she’d get the point.
“He has very good hearing. Come on,” I hissed
.
It worked. She shut up, and when I grabbed her wrist, she ran beside me and I didn’t have to tug her along. This wasn’t even an alley, just a space between two big buildings. At the other end, we let out into a narrow lane lined with the backs of buildings. I picked another gap and kept running in the same direction. Rat had said the waterfront was this way.
We came out in a square. A wide plaza wrapped around a graveyard, with short stone walls and high metal fences jutting out the tops of the walls. Past the graveyard, the ground sloped down sharply. The sea would be that way. I could smell it now.
This street was deserted and felt uncomfortably exposed. Gripping Scarecrow’s wrist, I took off again. I’d skirt around the edge of the graveyard as fast as I could. Going through it was tempting, but not in a fairy tale.
The ghost faded into view ahead of me like fog, and I threw myself against the wall of the graveyard. Stupid. Get a grip, Mary. It completely ignored me. A transparent white man walked down the street, and if he didn’t care about me, I didn’t care about him. Another faded into view and walked past him, coming from the direction I had. She was a woman, maybe college age, in a very plain dress. A woman and a baby. The wrapped up shape in her arms was a baby. A ghost baby. Swell.
They had nothing to do with me, and I was happy to let it stay that way. I started walking again, as fast as I could without breaking into a run. Two old women appeared in front of me, and a few seconds later, the girl and her baby disappeared. I’d left them behind. I only saw the ghosts if they were close.
This was all stupid. Ignore the ghosts, get down to the water. I leaned forward to run again.
“Please don’t,” my Wolf said, stepping out of another little alley ahead of me.
I turned and bolted the other way, yanking Scarecrow off her feet. She only slowed me down a step before she got her balance, but that was enough. The Wolf lunged past me, and spun around to grin right in my face.
I couldn’t blame Scarecrow. He’d moved so fast, one step made no difference at all.
For pity’s sake, Mary, you have to worry about who you’re blaming now?
“No more running away, my love,” the Wolf murmured. That deep voice of his made it sound like a playful romantic quip. If he was fooling anybody with that, it was only himself. I turned to run the other way, but he sidestepped like a frikkin’ ice dancer. He was so big, and so close. One of his paws blocked me on one side, and one on the other, and I looked up into a gray, hairy animal face and felt his breath on mine.
Scarecrow took a step forward. I tried to pull her back, but that hot breath rolled over my cheeks, and I didn’t feel very strong. Not nearly as strong as a girl made of wood. She didn’t understand the danger at all, and scolded him. “You’re making Mary unhappy. I don’t like it when she’s not happy. Stop it.”
“A fake Red Riding Hood. Cute.” The Wolf slapped her with his paw, and her hand jerked out of mine as he knocked her yards away. Please don’t let her be broken. She hit the ground so loud.
“Your rat is planning something. I love the game, but not tonight, Red. Tonight, if they interfere I will kill them. I’ll kill both of them even if you get away so that it’s just you and me next time,” he drawled. Rat was climbing out of the bag, and I closed my hand over his face.
“Scarecrow, I forbid you to get involved. You’re going to stay right where you are,” I called out. She stopped in the middle of sitting up. At least she wasn’t broken.
If I died here, Rat would take care of her. The Wolf wasn’t interested in a girl made of wood, no matter how she was dressed.
“First, I’d like to apologize, Red.” Ice blue eyes, too glassy to be human, looked down into mine. “As long as you were willing to run, I wanted to chase. You’re different. I wanted this to be different. But if I were able to resist my most selfish desires, I wouldn’t be a wolf.”
“You know where you can shove it, you child molesting freak,” I snapped.
He chuckled. The smug bullying monster. He was so close. Oh geez, don’t lick me.
Instead, he kept talking. “I knew you’d get out of the boat. When you did, it made my heart race, wondering where I’d find you next. Then I swam ashore and caught a bird for a snack, and in my own forest, she told me that she’d seen Red Riding Hood out near the wishing well. That’s what it’s like, Red. Loving you is a giant game where the rules keep changing and the prize keeps getting bigger and bigger.”
I refused to say anything. Stop lying, Mary. I didn’t want him to hear my voice crack. My knees trembled. It was his breath. His teeth were right in front of me. His paws were on either side. Stone blocks pushed against my butt and iron fence bars kept me from backing up any farther.
He loved to hear himself talk, so it didn’t matter if I stayed quiet.
“As I followed your trail, I found one of my brothers chained in a kennel and let him out. When I told him that I had to catch my girl in red, he attacked me! He said I couldn’t have you, because you were his! Nothing is ever as I expect chasing you. I locked him back in his kennel and left him for his master and the collar.” He let out a little huffing snort, and I tilted my face away so his nose wouldn’t touch me.
“Then yesterday, by the railroad tracks, I slept. I dreamed, Red. I dreamed of you.” He lifted one of his paws, and slid the rough pad down my cheek. I gritted my teeth. I felt sick, letting him touch me like that, but it was better than his fangs. Maybe.
He leaned in closer. If I turned my face back towards him, our mouths would touch.
“I dreamed of you over and over, and now I can’t wait anymore. I’m drowning in those dreams. Tonight you’re going to make one of them come true. Which one is up to you. If you won’t choose, I’ll kill you and eat you. I promise that every night for a thousand years, I’ll dream about sharing the last seconds of your life.” He broke off in a growl, so deep and loud it shook my whole body. “Choose, my Red Riding Hood. Tell me what kind of relationship you want right now, because I want to find out what you taste like so badly, I can’t hold back anymore.”
“How about the relationship where I tell you what an arrogant self-centered moron you are?” I said. I sounded pathetic. My voice barely squeaked. I was telling him to kill me. But the other things he wanted? What he really, really wanted was for me to help him kill other girls. Better I die. I just had to keep my mouth shut now so that I couldn’t change my mind for a few more seconds. And try to keep Rat from squirming free without crushing him.
“What am I looking at? The girl is twelve. Even wolves should have shame,” the voodoo woman barked as she walked up the plaza towards us. She was as good at appearing from nothing as the ghosts.
“Go away, witch. This is none of your business,” the Wolf growled.
He was angry. I hadn’t heard him actually growl before. His voice was so big, so loud, and his fur stood up with fury at having to turn his face a few inches from mine to look at her.
“It is my business, Mister Wolf. That girl is my business. She mouthed off to me,” said the witch. She stopped walking, but she was close enough I could see her scowl. She crossed her arms, folding a bright red shawl over them. It held the Wolf’s gaze like a magnet. If his front legs weren’t around me … but they were.
“I have first claim. You’ll be settling with blood and bones, but that’s my right,” he growled.
The voodoo witch’s voice got very quiet. Not quiet, calm. It carried well, but didn’t sound loud at all. “Let me be clear. The girl mouthed off to me to protect an innocent. I have an obligation now to do the same for her.”
The Wolf’s head lowered. All his teeth were bared, and his hulking upper body shivered with anger. “You’re a little old for my tastes, but I’ll make an exception this once. I love your dress,” he said, going back to his honey and chocolate charming voice. It didn’t mean anything. He lunged for her.
“My Lady don’t like you, Wolf,” the witch answered. The mannequin appeared, towering over her, a woman in an elabor
ate red gown with her hat tilted low to hide her face. Ghosts swarmed, appearing in the street, diving through the bars of the graveyard fence, wrapping him up like a cobweb.
I saw it all in a glance, too many things that seemed to all have happened in a heartbeat. I ran. I couldn’t afford to yell and risk calling his attention. His snarling behind me sounded very much alive and angry, not hurt. I bent low and wordlessly grabbed Scarecrow’s forearm as I ran past her. Thank goodness she understood, and leaped into a sprint right beside me.
Down the hill. It tilted as we went around the corner of the graveyard, and we ran as fast as my feet would take me down the cobbled slope. The docks were ahead. I saw nothing but a couple of fishing boats.
Sharp pains stabbed into my lungs. I was a good walker, not a long distance runner. My feet hit the wooden boards, and I flung my arms around a post. I gasped, but I didn’t have time to get my breath back.
“Can she win?” I asked Rat.
“No. Maybe she’ll get away alive. She’s stronger than he is, but the story is stronger than anything,” Rat said.
‘No’ had been enough. I pushed Scarecrow into the little fishing boat before Rat finished his explanation. I hadn’t a clue how to work the sails, but the boat had oars.
I grabbed them, but Scarecrow pulled them out of my hands.
“Let me do that. I want you to rest and be happy again.”
I stared at her. It didn’t do me any good. Her face was made out of wood and had no expression, except maybe a vague sullenness Elizabeth must have copied from my face. I didn’t have the strength to argue, and Scarecrow swung the oars with an ease and speed I couldn’t have.
“Just row,” I muttered. “I don’t care where we go. Crossing water will slow the Wolf down. Won’t it?” This last I addressed to Rat, who stuck out just enough from my bag to lay his hand on my thumb.
“Yes. Some,” he answered.
Quite Contrary Page 21