by Holley Trent
“I was merely being friendly.”
“They do not require friendship.” She came out from her office and leaned against the doorframe. “They need money.”
“I’ll pay you for the room, Butterfly.”
She opened her mouth, likely to tell him she didn’t want his money, but then closed it. She had to know the offer wasn’t one of charity. If he were going to avail of a service, he would pay for the service. Simple as that.
The Cougar called Elizabeth made her way up the stairs carrying a tray loaded with a covered dish, a mug of coffee, and a cloth napkin.
He assumed she was going to carry it down the hall to Lola, but she turned into the room Tarik was meant to have.
He didn’t require sustenance and moved to tell her that. Lola skirted past him before he could and entered the room with a solemn air.
“I’ve squirreled away some coins,” she told the Cougar. “Perhaps you could send a telegram to learn how your nephew fares.”
“Why?”
The goddess grimaced and smoothed the plackets of Elizabeth’s simple dress. It was missing a button and she must have pinned it in haste. They didn’t look like the same women they’d been the night before. No comely dresses. No done-up hair. No rouged cheeks.
“I took an hour and read the newspapers piled up on my desk. Some of the news is weeks old, but often, circumstances do not resolve themselves so quickly.”
Elizabeth set the tray on the table next to the bed and turned back in a hurry. “Something going on in Fort Worth? Do I even wanna know? I can’t go get him, so maybe I don’t want to know.”
Tarik eased past the two and carefully lowered his weight onto the bed. He’d been observing humankind since its inception, but rarely did he get a chance to witness such mundane domesticity. He studied big-picture issues, not the worries of a few individuals. The mundane suddenly gripped his interest, as it obviously had the butterfly’s.
“I am certain he will be fine if he remains within the confines of the orphanage. I doubt even the most desperate of degenerates will create troubles for a group of children and nuns. All the same, you may consider devising a plan to get him here by any means necessary.”
“But I still don’t have the money.”
“If transport is the issue,” Tarik said, “I may be able to assist.”
Elizabeth blinked a few times and stared at him through her thick glasses as though she’d forgotten he was there.
“We do not require your interference,” Lola said.
“I believe I told you once a long time ago that interfering is what I do.”
“Wait,” Elizabeth said. She moved closer to the bed and peered at him. Young. Twenty years old, maybe. A natural born Cougar if his nose was being honest. He’d encountered numerous Cougars in the years since he’d first encountered the goddess. The best he could discern, the direct descendants of her first creatures all had a specific kind of musk about them.
She had it, too.
It wasn’t unpleasing.
“You knew each other before yesterday?” Elizabeth asked. She leaned in closer to him, eyes going comically wide when he peeled back the corner of the imaginary cloak around his essence and let power seep out.
She backed up a few steps then. “What the hell are you?”
Lola sighed and primly settled herself into the straight-backed chair near the stand with the washbowl and pitcher. “Let us not fall victim to distraction, Elizabeth. Remember what we discussed. You did not want your nephew to know so soon that the world is not as it seems.”
“Well, maybe I was a little hasty with that, you know?” She looked to Tarik. “Right?”
He turned his hands over in a noncommittal gesture. For the moment, he was just the witness, soaking up all the delicious agitation from her goddess. She could try to hide her comeliness, but he was becoming immune to her tricks. He saw the butterfly for exactly what she was, and he was ready for her subterfuge. He had a few tricks of his own, and he was going to take his amusements wherever he could get them. Perhaps Gulielmus had been on to something when he’d said that Tarik couldn’t make disruption his entire life. He needed to have some pleasures, as well, or he’d burn out even more spectacularly than any star in the heavens. There would be plenty of unseemly institutions left for him to disturb the next day.
“You tell me,” he said. “I am unfamiliar with the conditions here. I am merely offering a tool I have easily at my disposal.”
“You do that, and then what?” Lola asked. “Are you going to offer transport to every mortal in need of transit? Where will you draw the line?”
“I believe you overstate my willingness to cooperate. I offered assistance to one woman. I have no particular drive to relocate every settler in the southwest to more comfortable situations.”
The little twitch in her jaw hinted that she didn’t believe him. She breathed out a puh of disgust and handed Elizabeth some coins. “Send the telegram. Find out what you can. We will make decisions when we know more.”
Elizabeth nodded and hurried out of the room.
Tarik made himself more comfortable on the bed. He turned onto his side and propped his head onto his fist.
Lola blinked at him. She may not have said anything, but that small action communicated plenty. She grew weary of him.
He liked the challenge.
“I don’t intend to ruin what you have here,” he offered, “if that’s what you were thinking.”
“Why did you come?”
“I often check in on friends.”
“I am not your friend.”
“You haven’t made any serious overtures toward killing me, so I consider that to be close enough.”
She gave her head a frustrated shake and strode to the window. Using a cuff of her unflattering gray calico dress, she rubbed a murky spot off the glass. The maid must have been in a hurry and missed it. “I think three days would be a believable recovery period for you. You can leave on Tuesday. Rumors are already swirling. You are obviously not one of the local cowboys. They know all of them by sight, especially the Black ones because there are so few here. People will wonder what you want. You stand out.”
“I grow impatient of changing my appearance to ensure other people’s comfort.”
She didn’t say anything, but even with her being turned, he caught that twitch of her jaw.
“Do I make you uncomfortable, Lola?”
The name didn’t fit. It rang as false in his ears, but if that was what she’d chosen, he’d use it. Names were extremely personal and private things for creatures like them.
“Yes,” she said.
“Why? Because of what I look like or what I am?”
“What you look like doesn’t matter. I was spawned from a race of beings whose forms often take on the shapes of people’s nightmares. And I do not care what you are. Threaten me and perhaps I will. Right now, I only care that you are in my space and disturbing me.”
“You’d rather be alone?”
“Solitude is easier.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
She had nothing more to say.
At the glimmer of movement at the door, he straightened up.
Lola didn’t turn. “Rachel.”
A stunning dark-haired woman stepped into the room, clearing her throat, staring brazenly at Tarik while twisting her skirt between her hands. “Uh. Sheriff’s here. Wanted to see if you wanted something done about that window.”
“Does he have a suspect?” Lola asked.
“I don’t think he does. You know how he is, though. Make it worth his while, and he’ll find someone.”
Rachel was still staring.
Tarik lifted his chin at the pretty brunette in greeting.
Her cheeks went cherry red just before she hustled over to the window. “Wanted to talk to him, too.”
“Him” likely being Tarik.
“About getting shot.”
“No,” Lola and Tarik said in unis
on.
Rachel looked from one to other of them, uncertain.
Tarik was going to leave Lola to do the talking. He leaned back and closed his eyes. Resting on his back wasn’t the most comfortable of positions, but after so many millennia, he’d learned to ignore most of his wing aches.
“Stray bullets,” Lola said. “I doubt they were aiming so specifically toward the saloon. If he wants to do me a favor, he could have visitors check their guns at the jail when they are in town. There is no significant amount of money in this community. There is no gold here, and we do not have a bank. We rarely get robbers.”
“No, we get hustlers and bounty hunters passing through. They’re just as bad because they’re desperate. I’ll go tell him all that, though, and see if I can’t get him to go away.”
“Why wouldn’t he go away if no one intends to press charges?” Tarik asked.
“Hey, should you be on your back?” Rachel queried, scrunching her forehead. “I thought you got shot in the—”
“Tell him I’ll be downstairs in three minutes,” Lola interrupted. “He wants to do me a favor so he can have me in his pocket. I refuse to accept that. Go.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Rachel drawled, “but it ain’t his pocket he wants you in. Don’t be coy, Miss Lola.”
Tarik opened his eyes in time to see Rachel sashay away, winking at him over her shoulder. Cheeky girl.
Lola stood at the bedside, arms folded over her chest, aggressively drumming her fingertips against her biceps. If she kept on like that, she was going to leave bruises.
“They are young and naive,” she said in a barely restrained whisper. “Leave them alone.”
“I have no designs on your Cougars.”
“You would be the first who did not.”
“I don’t mean to offend. They are lovely and sweet enough, but I prefer more seasoned prey.”
Her eyes narrowed to black slits and her fingers drummed even faster.
She could take his words however she liked, whether as taunt or invitation. His curiosity would be soothed by either reaction.
Unfortunately, she didn’t indulge him either way.
She hustled to leave, calling back, “Eat the meal. Elizabeth made an effort. So can you.”
She shut the door.
Groaning, he lifted the cover of the dish.
Eggs. Charred toast. Some sort of meat.
Unlike Tamatsu who could spend a day grazing and still be famished, Tarik had never possessed much of an appetite for food. His body didn’t ask him to consume in that way, and his palate was unsophisticated.
“Such a chore,” he muttered, picking up the toast.
But waste not, want not, as the old saying went. He’d have to inform Elizabeth not to make the effort next time.
Funnily enough, he couldn’t remember the last time he was in a place long enough to be concerned about two meals in a row.
___
Lola glowered back at the door of Tarik’s temporary room as she stomped down the steps.
She didn’t like to be toyed with, and he was teasing her on the misguided perception that she wouldn’t react.
She would, eventually, but smartly. She wasn’t going to waste magic when she could find other ways of making the giant uncomfortable. If he said a single salacious word to one of her girls, she wasn’t going to respond tepidly.
Pulling out a chair from the table next to the sheriff, she nodded to Rachel. The Cougar stood at the bar, nervously nipping her teeth into her bottom lip.
Lola bared her teeth as a reminder.
Rachel mouthed “Oh” and quickly put her fangs away.
The sheriff wasn’t their kind. He was a meddling carpetbagger looking for a small place where he could feel like a big man. Lola didn’t think Maria would be the place for him for very long. He’d get bored. She hoped he did, anyway.
“Miss Lola, Miss Lola, how kind of you to see me.”
“Spare me the platitudes. What do you want?”
She knew what he wanted. He wasn’t going to get it. No one got that.
One corner of his mouth kicked up. He parted his lips to reveal the familiar array of half-rotted teeth and red gums. “You got some kind of rule that you can only be nice to me after sundown? I mean, here I am right now. Make an exception, will you?”
“I am certain Rachel has explained to you that your services are not required.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be so hasty. Some situations merit further investigation, don’t you think?”
“Since when has what I thought mattered?”
“Be nice, Miss Lola,” he said greasily. “Didn’t your mama raise you up to be sweet? Or don’t they do that where you come from?”
Twelve seconds, Lola thought, eying him up and down. Perhaps fourteen to account for the tin star pinned to his waistcoat and his gun. That was how long she thought it’d take to render him into a pile of ash. He’d be more useful with his earthly remains tilled into the cook Bertha’s pitiful kitchen garden than sitting in Lola’s saloon, fouling up the place with his air and wasting her time.
“Do not concern yourself with where I come from,” she said through clenched teeth. “Concern yourself with why there are more guns than men in this town.”
He kept grinning. “A man’s gotta store his extra bullets in something, ain’t he?”
She was about to suggest a certain dark place where he could potentially store his when Elizabeth stepped into the building.
“Sent the message,” she called out. “Ted said he’d send his boy over to fetch me if there’s a response. Oh.” She deflated a bit seeing the sheriff there. “I guess you’re back from Albuquerque.”
Leering, Sheriff leaned his chair onto its back legs. “Hey, Liz. Learn any new tricks?”
Lola twined her fingers together tight and dug her nails into the front of her hands, counseling herself to show restraint. There’d once been a time when she would react whether a victim needed her to or not. The struggle to disengage from others’ affairs had been a lesson of more than a millennium.
“Not sure why you’re so worried about my new ones,” Elizabeth said. “You haven’t even seen any of my old ones.”
“Word gets around.”
“Oh, I’m sure it does.”
Lola canted her head toward the kitchen. Certainly, Elizabeth could find something to do in there for a few minutes until the sheriff left. One of the ways Lola kept situations from spiraling out of control was to limit the number of personnel in the room. She wasn’t worried about Rachel. Rachel had dealt with worse blusterers than the sheriff. Elizabeth was too soft.
Elizabeth took her leave. Lola turned her focus back to the waste of space at the neighboring table. “As far as this business is concerned,” she told him, “you need not worry about providing any additional assistance. If you would like to further investigate what happened outside, I would be most gratified if you do that.”
“Well, maybe I’ve got some more questions to ask you.”
“You may ask, but I suspect you already know I have no more information to give you.”
“Lemme talk to the guy upstairs.”
“He is indisposed.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means he got shot in the damned shoulder yesterday and lost a great deal of blood. You can hardly expect him to make any sense right now. I am only keeping him here because he is too poorly to send away, and after all, the injury happened in front of my business. Lodging him is the very least I can do.”
Sheriff put his chair back on all four legs and made a catching sound in his throat.
Rachel moved out of his view to behind him and rolled her eyes hard.
Behave, Cat.
She was a reckless thing, still in want of self-restraint. That would come in time, assuming the young woman was allowed enough years for her to develop it.
It was a good thing Sheriff had set his chair down because Lola wouldn’t have put it past Rachel to try to k
nock one of the legs out and blame the situation on the saloon rats.
“Well. Hopefully he won’t leave town before I get a chance to talk to him,” he said.
“Why would you need to? He was the victim.”
“Also a stranger. Can’t have random folks popping into town stirrin’ up a fuss.”
“Like you did a year ago?”
Rachel was struggling to suppress her laughter, but Lola didn’t find anything humorous about the question. She’d been completely sincere with the query. Everyone knew the sheriff hadn’t ended up in Maria solely by the grace of his good lord. He was no grateful homesteader. He was running from something or someone, just like most of them.
“Just make sure he don’t go nowhere, you hear me?”
Lola said nothing. He wasn’t going to get the “Yes, Sir” he wanted out of her, and she would have been perfectly content with him holding his breath until he did. A blue tinge might have added a bit of dimension to that pockmarked complexion of his.
On his way past Rachel, he reached for her hair.
She deftly skirted away and began rubbing the inside of a mug with her apron as a ploy.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he called back in warning.
He stepped outside, hooked his thumbs into his pockets, had a good look at his downtrodden kingdom, nodded, and then stepped into the street.
Unfortunately, there was no runaway stagecoach nearby to barrel into him.
Rachel hustled over to the door, then closed and latched it. “Always feel like I need to take a scalding hot bath after he’s been in here, and that’s really saying something.”
“Too bad we are perennially short on water.”
“What’s he’s playing at?” Tarik asked from the railing upstairs.
Lola didn’t look up. She didn’t see the point of doing so when she could just watch Rachel, who was staring like a child who’d just seen the moon for the first time. “Rachel,” she murmured.
“What?” she responded absentmindedly. She was rubbing the same spot over and over again on the mug which hadn’t been especially dirty in the first place.
“It is not polite to stare.”
“I don’t mind,” Tarik said.
“He don’t mind,” Rachel quipped as her brow furrowed. “Shouldn’t he be in bed?”
