Suddenly, Steve staggered and put his hand to his forehead, wincing as if he'd been struck with an acute pain.
Randy Gaste looked at him strangely. "What's wrong, Kid?" He touched Steve's shoulder, but his friend pulled away and glared at him.
"Don't touch me again," Steve growled, his voice weird. "In fact, kid, why don't you get lost and leave me alone?"
As if Randy didn't find Steve's words shocking enough, what he did next scared him. He leaned close to Randy and sniffed him, saying: "Besides, you're too old for me. You snap your carrot at least once a day, don't you?"
Randy was embarrassed by the truth of the latter statement and mystified as to the meaning of the former. He thought at first that Steve was joking, but from the look on his friend's face, Randy knew he wasn't.
"I thought we were friends," Randy said, flabbergasted.
Steve looked at him, and if the sniffing hadn't given Randy the creeps the look he got now did.
"Trust me, kid, you don't want to be my friend," Steve said and walked away.
Easy. Bit off more than I could chew.
It is a splash of cold water in the face.
I'm not who I used to be. The botched ritual ... thanks to Jack-be-lean ...
It is worrisome.
Will I ever see normal again?
She seeks, but the Machine cannot answer.
Tentatively, she tries again, focusing, reaching out ... and by the end of the school day she discovers that one-on-one she is still the master puppeteer, but when there are too many puppets... herplan to net some provisions here must be put aside, for the time being anyway.
I need to be home, permanently.
The temptation is to hurry, but she knows that way leads to failure. She cannot bludgeon the way Edmund used to, she must be subtle and manipulative, the way she used to be. If she cannot make all the puppets dance on her strings, the ones she does choreograph have to appear perfectly natural in their words and actions so as not to arouse suspicions. It is not time, yet, to fully reveal herself.
As she remembers so often happening in her old life, once she sees a goal, the Machine provides a deliciously wicked plan to achieve it. Suddenly, like the schoolchildren around her, she cannot wait for the school day to end.
Soon I'll be home for good.
Diane Nailer shut off the television and looked at the clock. Steve would be home from his first day of school soon. He had insisted yesterday that she not pick him up after school. He wanted to ride the bus, complaining that it was embarrassing enough that she wanted to drop him off in the morning. She dried her eyes and went into the bathroom to wash her face. She hoped he was in a better mood. She was anxious to hear how his first day had gone. She was also determined to sit down and have it out with her son once and for all. After a morning of moping about feeling sorry for herself, she'd had enough and decided to do something about it-get tough. She couldn't go on living at odds with Steve. She was going to clear it up today!
She smiled ruefully, wondering what Dr. Gibbons would think of her new "tough love" stance.
The doorbell rang, startling her from thought. She went to the door, opened it, and was faced by the handsomest man she had ever laid eyes on. He was tall and broad-shouldered, filling the door frame. Like her late husband, Steve's father, he was blond-haired and blue-eyed, but that was where the resemblance ended. This man's hair went beyond blond; it was more like spun gold. And his eyes were no mere blue, but a blue so pale and full of an inner light they seemed to glow. When his eyes met hers she felt as though he could see all the innermost secrets of her soul.
"Hi, Mrs. Steven Nailer?" the man asked in a voice so mellifluous it was musical.
She nodded, felt herself blushing hotly, and said, breathless, "Yes, that's me."
"Good," the man said, flashing brilliantly white, straight teeth. "My name is Trevor Flint, and I'm an attorney for Pioneer Insurance with the firm of Baum, Bellum, Bosk, and Berkowitz. We handle the Grimm estate for the insurance company. I'd like to catch you up on some of the investments we've been making on behalf of Steve, who, as you know, was the sole beneficiary of Ms. Grimm's substantial holdings and estate, after the courts determined how much the other victims and their families should get in restitution."
"Of course. Come in," Diane said, opening the screen door to allow Mr. Flint to enter. As he passed close to her, she caught a scent of him. Strangely, he smelled like Bubble Yum, strawberry-flavored bubblegum, Little Steve's favorite brand. He liked it so much he rarely went without a piece in his mouth. The practice had become a dental problem, and she had forced him to switch to the sugarless brand.
Mr. Flint went into the living room and sat on the couch, placing his briefcase on the floor in front of him and opening it. Diane sat on the edge of the recliner, to the left of the couch, trying not to ogle her visitor but unable to keep from stealing appreciative glances at his muscular thighs, the perfect angle of his jaw, and the glint of light in his eyes when he wasn't looking at her.
"Is Steve Jr. home?" Trevor Flint asked.
"No, but he'll be along any minute now from school. Do you need to see him, too?"
"No," he replied. "Not really. I'm sure you can give me all the info I need." He pulled some papers out of the briefcase and flashed Diane a winning, heartmelting smile. "Why don't you come over here and sit next to me while I go over these portfolios with you?"
Diane blushed again, uncomfortably, but it didn't keep her from moving quickly to his side. Her arm brushed his and an orgasmic tingle shuddered through her, leaving her panties damp. She was breathing heavily and aware of it; she just hoped he hadn't noticed. She felt light-headed being in such close proximity to this gorgeous hunk. She couldn't think straight, couldn't focus on the various papers he showed her, and couldn't stop her heart from palpitations every time he looked at her.
Like the way he was looking at her now, only now was different.
A moment before he did it, she saw it coming, and welcomed it.
He dropped the papers, cradled her face in both his hands, and kissed her deeply and passionately. Diane was enveloped by him, all of her senses invaded and satiated by him almost to the point of swooning. It was like a scene out of one of the great old classic romance movies of the last century. Trevor was as suave and seductive as Gary Grant-even more so-and he made her feel as desirable and wantonly sexy as Sophia Loren.
It was wonderful! They never spoke a word. Their eyes, lips, and hands spoke volumes for them. Never in her life had Diane experienced such exquisite sensual pleasure. His kisses melted in her mouth, and when she kissed him back it was a beautifully fluid ballet of lips upon lips and pirouetting tongues. His hands sought out her breasts, and she thrilled at every squeeze and caress. Ignoring the insanity of this loveat-first-sight tryst, she gave herself over completely to him. Before long, she was partially disrobed, panting with desire, yet still clearheaded enough to remember that Steve was due home soon, and wanton enough not to stop because of it.
Instead, she led Trevor to her room, closed and locked the door, and stood transfixed watching him undress. His body was as perfect as his face, fueling her lust for him. The next half hour of Diane Nailer's life was a sexual fantasy come true. Her favorite secret fantasy-one she'd often played out while her first husband had made love to her-had always been to be ravished by a handsome, younger stranger who would take her and make love to her in the most sensual and romantic way possible. This would lead to multiple orgasms for her, a feat she had never been able to achieve with any man. Now, not only did she achieve multiple orgasms, she did so three times.
Finally exhausted from riding atop him through the exquisite barrage of orgasms, she collapsed on the bed. He disengaged himself from her and got dressed while she lay nearly senseless with sexual satisfaction.
"I'll be back," he whispered in her ear, leaning over the bed and giving her a quick-his tongue licking her lips softly-kiss, and he was gone.
It took Diane a good tw
enty minutes to rouse herself after his departure. She felt as though she could sleep for hours, maybe even days. Never had she felt so satisfied and exhausted after sex. Even sex with her second husband, Steve's father, who had been an amazing lover, did not come close to what she had just experienced. What finally got her moving was suddenly remembering Steve was supposed to have been home any minute when Trevor had first shown up.
Did Steve come while we were making love? she worried. I can't believe I just didn't care about that! she half marveled, half worried. This was either a really good thing, or really bad. She wasn't sure. Quickly, she got dressed and went out to the living room to see Steve's coat on the rack by the door, his boots on the mat, and a stack of new school books on the kitchen counter.
He's home!
Guilt welled in her, but she pushed it down. It didn't mean he'd heard or seen anything. She was pretty sure they had been quiet during their lovemaking, and she had not been aware during it that Steve had come home. He never called out to announce his arrival the way he usually did, and he never knocked on her door-or at least she was pretty sure he hadn't. He must have known someone was here, though, she figured. Trevor's car must have been in the driveway or in front of the house. She frowned, trying to remember if she had noticed a car in the driveway or in front when she'd opened the door for her new lover, but was unable to do so.
"Steve?" she called toward his room after a quick glance through the kitchen. She approached his closed door and heard his TV crackling with cartoon sound effects. She knocked.
"Yeah?"
She opened the door. Steve was lying on his bed, hair tousled, looking tired.
"I'm sorry. Were you asleep?" Diane asked.
Steve yawned and nodded.
"What time did you get home?" she asked, looking for any sign from him that he was aware of her and Mr. Flint's romp.
"I don't know, a while ago. Your door was closed so I figured you were sleeping. I was pretty tired myself so I just came in here and lay down."
Encouraged, she probed a bit more. "So, how was your first day?"
"Long," he said.
"Oh!" she said with relief; he obviously had no clue about her tryst. "I was just wondering what you want for dinner. I don't feel like cooking, so let's do takeout. Okay?"
"I'm not hungry," Steve said without hesitation.
"Oh. Okay. I guess I'll have soup then." She went back to the kitchen feeling much better and thanking God Steve was none the wiser.
In his room, her son tried to stifle hysterical laughter. He hugged himself until the urge to laugh subsided. Rolling off the bed, he opened his bag and took out a pack of strawberry bubblegum. Smiling absentmindedly, he opened a piece and put it in his mouth. After a few seconds, he grimaced and spat it out.
"Why do I keep chewing that crap?" he asked the empty room. He went back into his bag and took out a book his reading teacher had given to him that day. He read the title out loud: "TrevorFlint, Pioneer."
The laughter wouldn't stay stifled this time and it shrieked from him loudly and hyena-like. In the kitchen, his mother heard him and smiled.
"What's so funny?" she yelled.
"Nothing!" he yelled back. "You wouldn't get it!" Under his breath he added: "But you will."
"Mom, remember what I asked you at Christmas? I think you and Steve should move in with us," Jen said at dinner Saturday night.
Diane, who'd been like a different person since meeting Mr. Trevor Flint, had invited Jen, Jeremy, and his sister, Debbie, over for dinner-an unusual occurrence in itself. She had been hoping Trevor would call or get in touch with her before then so she could invite him, too, but he didn't. Soon after his departure she had realized that she had no way of getting in touch with him. She vaguely remembered him saying what he did for work, but she couldn't remember the details. She also seemed to remember him saying something about the Grimm estate, but again, she couldn't remember enough to be sure it wasn't just a figment of her imagination. Their intense lovemaking had made everything that had gone before like a dream, like a life that had never happened, or a movie she had watched long ago in black and white.
"And I have a very good reason why," Jen added, beaming. "I'm pregnant!"
Diane shrieked with joy and mother and daughter embraced; mother and son-in-law embraced; Debbie and Jen embraced-everyone embraced except Steve, who headed for the bathroom as soon as the hug-fest started.
"If you need me, that's not a bad idea," Diane mused. Even before Jen had announce her pregnancy, it had occurred to Diane that if she and Steve were living atJen's and she kept the place in Sunderland, she and Trevor could have their own little love nest to get together any time they wanted and pursue a relationship.
What relationship? her old, paranoid self spoke up. It was weak from love but still kicking. You screwed the guy once and now he's disappeared, she reminded herself. No. She refused to believe that. He would call or come by. He had to. She could feel him nearby; could sense his presence everywhere, in every waking moment, as if he were living with her and she just couldn't see him.
"You know," Diane said, starting to gather plates and clear the table, "I think we'll try that out for a while. At least until you have the baby. I'll keep this place, just in case. I mean, we can't move all our stuff in until you're finished renovating."
"And just in case it doesn't work out?" Jen coaxed.
Diane shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, but we'll bring our clothes and personals and try it out. If it works we can always move everything later."
"Wow! Mom! That's great!" She got up and hugged Diane again. Her mother had to put the stack of gathered plates down to accommodate her. Jen let go and held her at arm's length, looking deeply into her eyes.
"What are you doing?" Diane asked, smiling uncomfortably under Jen's scrutiny.
"I'm just wondering if my real mother is in there somewhere, and if she isn't, I want to know what you've done with her." She laughed. "On second thought, I don'twant to know. I like this new mom much better."
Diane giggled and blushed.
Intuitively, Jen asked, "Have you met someone? Do you have a boyfriend?" When Diane's blush only deepened and she couldn't meetJen's eyes, her daughter was astounded.
"You've met someone!" she shrieked joyfully.
Diane nodded sheepishly, stealing a searching glance at Steve and thankful to see that he was grinning.
"Mom, that's great! " Jen crowed. She grabbed the dishes from Diane's hands, ran them to the sink, dumped them, and rushed back to push Diane into her seat and sit opposite her, demanding, "Tell me all about him!"
Diane looked at Steve and he nodded encouragingly. "Well, I really don't know what to tell you...." She faltered, remembering how devastatingly hand some he was and unable to think of words to describe him.
"So, tell us how you met,"Jen instructed enthusiastically.
"Oh, well, he came to the house last week while Steve was at school. He came to sell me insurance, I think. I can't really remember, he bowled me over so. It was love at first sight," she said wistfully. "He could be a god. He could be Apollo. He is the handsomest man I've ever laid eyes on," she said dreamily and quickly added the lie, "except for your father," to Steve for his benefit. "He's tall, six feet or so, and all muscle. He's got blond hair like spun gold and blue, blue, eyes, a strong square jaw, straight nose, and ... oh! I don't know what else to say except that I took one look at him and I literally felt weak in the knees."
Jen laughed and clapped her hands excitedly. "Mom's in love! I can't believe it! I'm so happy for you! "
Diane accepted another hug from her daughter, but Steve kept his distance.
"So, when do we get to meet him? What's his name?" Jen demanded.
"It's Trevor. Trevor Flint. I was hoping he'd come tonight, but I wasn't able to get a hold of him in time. You'll get to meet soon, no doubt." She didn't tell them that she didn't know how to get in touch with him.
She crows with delight. The news of the pre
gnancy is unexpected, but it is just the thing, coupled with her newfound love, to convince the old mother to move in with her daughter.
She senses more-the Machine at work-in the timing of this pregnancy with the baby's due date in October! Does the Machine guess at something she cannot?
It wouldn't be the first time; she trusts it. All hail the Machine.
She has tested her powers and found them to be completely functional (if not perfect).
All hail Me!
Now, this is the way she used to do things, spinning many webs, working her magic intricately. It's all coming back to her; she was, and still is, the great manipulator. Listening to the old mother going on about her new boyfriend she has all she can do to keep from laughing out loud.
Things are working better than she could have hoped. She has assured her return home where she can have access to the secret chambers at the top of the house. Back home, she can exercise her powers to their utmost and gather sustenance and sacrifices without fear of weakening. When she is strong again, she'll take complete, unrelenting control of those around her!
What a rich and varied existence I shall have, she thinks enthusiastically. With the old mother moving them in with Angel, the old cleaning lady, the artist, and the new mother, she will have a veritable gang to do her bidding.
What fun!
Soon they will all be dancing on the strings of the Machine. If things continue on this well, before the next Festival of Samhain Halloween to laypersons-she will have what she has dreamed of for thirteen long years: revenge!
Unfortunately, now that she is strong enough to deal with him, her nemesis is no longer within her reach.
But if all goes well, soon she'll have her hands on little fackcandle- umper.
Chalice Silver crept to the door of her sister's apartment, hoping to sneak out and catch the bus back to school before anyone woke, but luck was not with her.
"Where are you going, Auntie Chalice?" a small voice piped up as she went past the door to her niece Virginya's room.
Chalice smiled at her goddaughter and was secretly glad the little girl had woken. Chalice really hadn't wanted to leave without saying good-bye to her, but she tried to in order to avoid having to see her sister and her sister's scumbag boyfriend again. She put her bag down and squatted in front of Virginya. Though Virginya's mother insisted on correcting her daughter every time-"Her name is Ida, you little dummy, no matter what she says it is"-she still called Chalice by her chosen name and was the only one in her family to do so. That meant a lot to Chalice.
Grimm Reapings Page 17