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My Date with a Wendigo

Page 9

by Genevieve McCluer


  As soon as the car is parked, she leaps out and runs up to me. I fight back any instinct to attack. She’s so slow that it’s not like she’d be a threat anyway. I sweep her into my arms, holding her close, and am surprised to find her lips on mine again. Maybe this time I can manage it without wanting to eat her, at least any more than I always do. She smells amazing and not only because it’s appetizing. It’s like the scent of home that I’ve long since forgotten, only to find it again and feel like I was never gone. My nose wasn’t so sensitive back then as to pick up every detail the way I can now, but it’s still so familiar, and I can’t believe I ever allowed it to slip from my mind. I give in to the kiss as gently as I can, trying to be careful not to let my teeth so much as brush her lips.

  I don’t let my tongue into her mouth this time. Her taste was too enchanting on its own, even before the blood, for me to risk it right now. I just hold her and let our lips press together as best they can as we share each other’s feel, scent, breath, and, I suppose, taste. I wish I had better to offer of any of those. Why does she even want me?

  “I love the nightgown,” she announces, beaming at me when we finally pull away. A finger traces over the soft fabric. “It suits you.”

  “Wasn’t that long ago it would have suited you too.”

  “Yeah, but now I’m a total badass.”

  I bare my teeth at her. I hope she reads it playfully and not threateningly. “Oh, you think you’re more badass than me?”

  “I could take you.”

  I breathe in her scent again, savoring the closeness before I set her down. “That reminds me, I have a present for you.”

  Giggling happily, she follows me inside. “Really? What’d you get me? Is it pretty?”

  “I think it is. Though I’m sure it’s not what you were hoping for.” I present her with a delicately wrapped gift. I had Ashley help with the wrapping. My hands are great for slicing, stabbing, rending, and surprisingly painting and piano—not that I’ve much experience with the latter—but not so much for wrapping. I did slice the paper, though, just to feel useful.

  Seated on my couch, she rests the box on her lap and slowly unwraps it. She used to tear presents apart. She might just want to save everything to do with me for fear that I’ll disappear again. I promise, I’ll prove otherwise. “Oh. It’s…huh.” She stares at the silver dagger slid a few inches from its sheath.

  “It’s not much, but it’ll keep you safe.” I hope. “It might not be able to kill me—I’ve heard mixed things—but it can hurt me, and it can kill a lot of other things.”

  “I would never hurt you.”

  “But I might hurt you.” I sit on the far side of the couch. I’m starting to feel more comfortable with my ability to be around her, but the second I actually let myself believe that she’s safe is the very instant I’ll devour her. “Besides, I need to know that no one else will hurt you, either.”

  With a sigh, she slips the dagger into a jacket pocket, leaving it protruding halfway out. “All right, I guess, but I really don’t think you’ll hurt me.”

  “We need to find a better way for you to carry it. There’s a harness for it, but I wasn’t sure how you’d want it.” I pull the leather strap from the box, thumbing it idly as we talk, and I try to figure out how best for her to carry it.

  “You don’t need to worry. I know I’m safe with you.”

  “Well, I was hoping, maybe you wouldn’t be with only me all weekend.”

  “You want me to go? Or are you suggesting a threesome? If so, I gotta warn you, I don’t think I’m too up for sharing what’s finally mine.”

  I feel my cheeks heat up, among other parts. I didn’t know those still worked. “I don’t want to share you either. However, I do want to let you see what my world is like, what my life is like, and who my friends are. I know I can’t be part of your life, and it’s not fair to either of us, but you can at least be part of mine. If you’d like to, I mean.”

  She takes the strap and holds my hand in her lap, running her thumb along the dark fur. “Then I’ll happily wear it. I’d love to meet your friends. They won’t be offended by my being armed?”

  “We all have built-in weapons, and you don’t, so it just seems fair.”

  “You also have superpowers.”

  “I don’t have a way to give you those.”

  Resting her head on my arm, she pulls herself closer. “I’ll have you at least. Can we go tomorrow? I really just want to spend tonight with you.”

  Her hand brushes my thigh, and I take a shaky breath. “Liz, I can’t, please…I’m not ready. I’m too scared I’ll hurt you.”

  She pulls her hand back and looks up at me, guilt clear in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I know. I wasn’t even trying to. I just want to be close to you, and I’ve used sex for that for so long at this point that I think I forgot how to be intimate without it.”

  What happened to her? She used to be one of the slowest-moving lesbians I’ve ever known. With her first girlfriend, she took almost a year before they were willing to try anything. “It was my fault, wasn’t it? You lost that trust. I made it hard for you to be close to another person because of how badly I hurt you.”

  “It wasn’t like that. I’m just a bit of a slut. Just when I’m single,” she adds. “I’m not gonna cheat or anything, I promise.”

  “If you can’t sleep with me, I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to with someone else.”

  “I don’t want someone else. It’s so hard for me to really be with anyone else because they’re not you. You’re everything to me, Abigail, and I’ve been incomplete without you these last six years. It wasn’t because you hurt me; it’s because I needed you. I will always need you.”

  I lean my head against her, doing my best to let myself be as vulnerable as an unkillable abomination can be. I still can’t believe she cares this much, especially after all this time. “I’ll never leave you again. I promise.”

  “I believe you.” She kisses my neck, as it’s as about the best she can reach, and slides to the far side of the couch, guiding my head into her lap. I’m glad the guy who owned this cabin had a giant couch. Her fingers run through my fur, catching in the matted patches that I never bother to fix. I haven’t cared too much about grooming beyond making sure that I’m not covered in blood in a long while. It’s difficult to feel like there’s anything worth presenting.

  She plants a wet kiss on my forehead as her hand continues to work, caressing me and occasionally working at a tangle. It’s short fine fur, just thick enough to tangle annoyingly. It’s so weird to describe. With her, I can feel almost human, but with every touch, I’m reminded of how inhuman I am. At the same time, it shows just how alive she can make me feel again. “I love you,” I murmur, my eyelids fluttering shut as I give in to the ecstasy of her touch.

  “I love you too.”

  I had set up the generator, and with a great deal of effort, persuaded Ashley to lend me her laptop for the weekend, so when she decides to take a break from the petting, I set up a show for us to watch as we spend the night in each other’s arms. It’s the most comfortable, normal time I’ve had in my entire life.

  * * *

  I didn’t have the courage to go out in any sort of dress, but she talks me into dressing up a little. Rather than wearing the loosest thing imaginable, I’m wearing a high-collared purple button-up blouse with a pair of black jeans. I ordered the blouse from an undead seamstress back when I was first exploring what I was comfortable wearing with my new body once I was actually bothering with clothes.

  Liz clings to my arm as we walk into the Community Center. I should’ve waited another week and given her more time to get used to everything. I could’ve let us spend more time figuring each other out again, but it’s too late to take it back now. Her eyes widen once we go through the second entrance. She stares at all the stands, manned by all kinds of creatures that can scarcely be called men. She sees horns, antlers, hooves, talons, beaks, tentacle
s, and tails in every assortment imaginable. It was pretty overwhelming when I first saw it too, and I had the benefit of a few years seeing myself.

  Her grip tightens, and her head sinks lower as she glances around, bug-eyed. “Holy shit. I mean, holy shit! You told me what to expect, but I didn’t anticipate the scale of it. All of these mon…fiends live in Toronto?”

  “Or the general area.”

  “I had no idea. How do they all keep hidden?”

  I’d rather not answer that. Murder and slavery don’t make for the best date conversation.

  We pass by a stall containing various exotic weaponry, from a khopesh to a flamethrower, and several more items that are far less conventional. We stop at a bakery run by a lovely gay satyr couple. “Well now, isn’t this a rare surprise,” one of the two remarks. I’ve never been able to keep their names straight, as they look almost identical, but one is named Alika and the other is Pallab. “A human in our market.”

  Liz glances at me hesitantly.

  “They don’t eat people, and none”—I pause to sniff—“well, very few of their baked goods contain people.”

  “Are you sure we can’t interest you in a scone made of a hanged murderer, Abigail?”

  Liz’s gaze turns from anxious to concerned. “You should eat it, Abby. I know how hungry you are. I heard your stomach growling all last night. You’re starving. Besides, it sounds like he deserved it.”

  “No way.” I shake my head and take a step back. “I’ve been off people for two years. I’m not starting up again.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe it’d be easier for you if you just had something in your stomach.” She takes a step toward me, concern clear on her face. I know she’s trying to help, but she doesn’t get it.

  “Liz, no. I’ve been there, I’ve eaten enough. All it ever did was make me hungrier.”

  “Fine, maybe I’ll try it.”

  “No, no, no, no, no, no, no. No. You’re not gonna end up like me. I’m not letting that happen.” I take her hand and lead her away. “Liz, please. Don’t do this. I know what I’m talking about. Let me not eat, and please don’t ever try it yourself.”

  Her gaze drops, and she nods. “Okay. I’m sorry. I’m still new to this.”

  “I know. I hope I didn’t scare you.”

  “Not at all.” She stands on her tiptoes and kisses my shoulder. “Now, I really want a cupcake. Can I please go grab one?”

  “Yeah, fine. I’ll be right over here.” I take the chance to study some weapons, looking for anything that could do a better job of protecting her. A few minutes later, she returns. I can smell a few different items in her bag, not all of them sweets, and one of them very much edible for me. I told her not to get it. I know it’s just because she’s worried about me, but I don’t want to be around the temptation.

  “They gave me a free cupcake.” She grins, and I can’t bring myself to be mad at her. I’ll just throw it out later. Maybe I’ll give it to Ashley. She’s a lot less concerned about her diet.

  She takes my hand and drags me to another stand, admiring the craftsmanship and beauty of the metalwork and jewelry on display. I’m always surprised by how much silver and iron is sold here—it seems like a bit of a faux pas. “This necklace is beautiful,” she says, holding up a short chain containing a green jewel in the center of a fractal pattern of glass.

  “Would you like it?”

  She shakes her head and proceeds to buy it. I thought she didn’t want it. She turns back to me, barely able to contain her glee, as she stands as tall as she can. Finally realizing what she’s up to, I lean forward. It’s weird to think of her wanting to buy me something. It’s just wasted on me. “There, it looks beautiful. It’s the color your eyes used to be, in case you’ve forgotten. I hope it’s not too difficult a memory.”

  My current eyes seem to be leaking as I try to hold myself together and not weep in front of a bunch of fiends I see every week. “Thank you so much. I was starting to forget.”

  Resting her head on my chest, her eyes wander over the rest of the goods on display. “It’s all so beautiful.”

  “So are you.” I can still flirt. Kind of. I’m only six years out of practice.

  She kisses my sleeve, and we move along, admiring stand after stand. I so rarely shop. Eventually, we end up at Boris’s. “Is that human?” she asks, pointing at a slab of meat.

  “No. The kebabs over there are.” I point off in the distance. They smell so good, even over the scone in her bag. I’m absolutely ravenous. I haven’t been so tempted in over a year. Tasting her was a very bad idea.

  “No, most of that is venison from the lovely lady who this strange human seems to be clinging to. What is happening here, Abigail? I assume you are not here to sell her.”

  Her eyes widen, and she stares up at me. “So they do sell people here?” I was so hoping to not have this conversation.

  Boris nods, grinning enthusiastically. “Oh, of course. They sell everything: people, both living and dead, are one of the top commodities.”

  “There’s a slave market here once a month,” I say. “And other fiends often have their own victims or possessions to sell outside of that.”

  “Not to worry though, miss.” He offers a very unconvincing smile. “You are here as a guest, and as such, you are protected by hospitality. No one will try to buy you or eat you. Especially not with that scary wendigo on your arm. Now, Abby, do tell. I thought we were friends.”

  “She’s my girlfriend.”

  “Very happy for you. I had no idea you were interested in humans. Human girl, how would you like pound of silver on the house?”

  “He’s trying really hard to get rid of that silver.” Did he run out of buyers? I guess it really isn’t that popular here.

  With a shrug, she holds out her hands. “I’ll take it.”

  “Very good. Would you like a bag?”

  We leave the stand with a bag full of silver in various forms. Ashley is gonna be thrilled.

  Speak of the devil, and she shall appear. My phone buzzes with a message from her. I just got here. Where are you? Is she with you? I know I’ve said it like eight times already, but I’m so happy for you.

  “Liz, are you ready to meet my best friend? My other best friend?” Having your old best friend pop back into your life complicates terms.

  * * *

  We take in the cold air outside the Community Center. It’s late enough that no one is likely to be hanging around outside, though this is precisely why I prefer to wear a hood. Ashley hasn’t taken her eyes off Elizabeth since she first saw her, and I’m hoping her intentions are in no way culinary.

  “How’re you adjusting? I’m sure this all came as a pretty massive shock.” Ashley takes a seat on a heavily graffitied bench as she continues to study my girlfriend.

  “It was definitely surprising,” Liz admits, sitting beside her. “When she told me, I thought she was crazy. Sorry, Abby,” she adds, turning to me. “Also, sorry, my profession; ‘crazy’ is not at all an acceptable or medically relevant term.”

  “What do you do?” She finally starts to look more curious than hungry. I continue to keep an eye on her anyway. It’s not that I don’t trust Ashley, but she did fall off the wagon a month ago.

  “I’m a therapist.”

  Ashley blinks. “That is interesting. Now it’s really a shame that you can’t come to our group. You could be a big help.”

  “Why can’t I come?”

  “Humans aren’t allowed,” I say. “It’s dangerous for them, but it’s also a temptation for everyone to give up on their diets. It’s why I was a little worried about you meeting Ashley.”

  “Do you want to eat me, Ashley?” I have no idea how she’s grown so comfortable with this idea. I guess she had to adjust quickly, dating me.

  “Of course not. I think that’s Abigail’s job.”

  Is everyone I know going to make an eating out joke? “Real funny, Ashley,” I mutter.

  Ashley smirks. “I’ll
admit, she does look delicious. So, Liz, tell me the truth, have you tasted our favorite wendigo yet?”

  Liz glances at me, looking far more like she’s considering it than like she’s asking me for help. I’d call her insatiable, but that would require I be able to attempt to satiate her in the first place. “No, though I certainly hope to soon.” She turns back to Ashley with a mischievous look on her face. “Why, have you?”

  Her playful response seems to throw Ashley off. She’s not used to someone else taking control of the conversation. “I’m afraid that Abby and I have had to confine that to our dreams. As irresistible as she is, I tragically don’t swing that way.”

  Liz beckons me closer, placing an arm possessively around me. She makes abstaining very difficult sometimes. “That is a shame. I suppose I’ll just have to do it for the both of us, then. I’m sure Abby wouldn’t mind.”

  “Abby very much minds.” I take a step back. Her hand drifts back to her side. “Liz, I can’t take that risk. I just can’t.”

  For a second, it looks as if she’s about to say something, but she nods, letting out a shaky breath. “Abby, I know I’m safe with you. You don’t have to worry.”

  “Yes, I do. You can’t understand.” I need to get us to drop this topic. We can figure it out later, but I need a break from it. Holding back has already been so incredibly difficult; if she keeps telling me I don’t have to, I just might give in. “So, Ashley. Any news on that front for you?”

  “Well, now that I have my laptop back, my sex life is far more active, but other than that, I have had no more luck finding a cute guy. I swear, ever since Charles and I broke up, it’s been impossible, but he refused to give up eating people, and I couldn’t handle dealing with that. Liz, no eating people around Abigail, okay? Promise?”

  I can smell the human meat in her bag. Every fiber of my being is telling me to eat it, to eat her, then maybe to eat Ashley for good measure. I take another step back, not that it in any way prevents me from being able to smell every single piece of meat.

 

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