The man who was a monster underneath sat in the armchair in the corner of the room. The black spiral still spun over his head, and the monstrous wings spread around him like a dark aurora. She blinked and pushed away the symbolic imagery of the catastrophe vision, leaving only the more technical Sight Corbin had given her. Then she could see that he had none of the colored nodes of a mortal, only the black wheels at his head and feet. The dark halo sucked at her gaze, inviting her to lose herself in its lazy black spin. But to ordinary vision, he looked so normal. Dark hair, clean-cut, just pretty enough to not stand out in Hollywood. Just a man.
Except when she looked in his eyes.
She released the first-aid kit and towels from trembling hands and moved to put herself between the kids and the dark celestial. “Who are you?”
“Wherever you go, you’re already between them and the world,” he said, in a mortal’s voice. She liked it no more; it was deceptive. On the phone, he might be human.
She didn’t bother with more questions. “Out into the hall, kids, let’s go.”
But before she could take even a single step away, he’d risen from the chair and captured her wrist, in a grip as strong as self-hatred. It hurt. He stroked the knuckles of his other hand down her cheek, tender like a lover. Nausea flooded her. “I’d say you shouldn’t be afraid of me, but I’d be lying,” he whispered.
Run, she tried to say. She tried to move her mouth in the shape of the word, to whisper it. But her mouth wouldn’t listen to her. It stayed firmly closed, her teeth clenched together.
“But I’m already inside you.” He tapped his thumb over her mouth, and she retained just enough will to jerk her head away. “I know how cruel you are to the woman who raised you. And about the skiing trip in high school. The girl you could have saved from that terrible accident. If you’d only listened to yourself and warned her. If only...” His hand slid down her neck and his fingers went around her throat like a necklace. “But even then, you already longed to be emptied. To be devoured...” Marley’s knees sagged under her as she fought her way through the tidal wave of emotion his words unleashed, but he held her up. Old guilt and new terror merged together.
Then a little voice cried, “You let her go!” and it was lemon juice over raw wounds. She gasped, blinking back tears, and a blur resolved itself into Kari standing beside them, small fists clenched. A yard behind her, Lissa pressed her back against the wall.
“Sit down, children,” said the man calmly, not taking his nightmare eyes off Marley’s face.
“Let her go!” It was suddenly a lot hotter in the room.
The man sighed, and looked down at the kids. “Children, sit down.” The command was so palpable that Marley would have ended up on the floor if she wasn’t still caught in his grip. Lissa slid down the wall, but Kari remained standing. Her eyes widened and her brow furrowed and she leaned forward, as if setting her weight against something.
Marley realized that the man’s grip on her wrist had become only as strong as iron, a mundane thing. She pulled and twisted, and at first it simply hurt. So she recovered her balance instead.
Then Kari sagged, and sank down to the floor. The man smiled. “Good children. Go and sit on the bed.” As obedient as the beaten, they both scrambled to the nearest bed. “Now, we were talk—” But Marley exploded with sudden fury, kicking and yanking on her arm and clawing at his face with her free hand. He caught her other hand, was unmoved by her kicks, and he kept smiling.
Until a tiny, yowling bundle of fur and claws landed on his back. The iron in his grip was brittle. It broke. Sobbing, Marley collapsed and scrambled away, even as the man arched his back and cursed, reaching around to grab Neath from behind. He looked at the spitting, flailing calico kitten and said, “I see,” derisively before tossing the cat on the bed with the children. Neath promptly hopped off the bed and onto Marley’s shoulder. Her claws were painful pricks that helped Marley focus.
“Run,” Marley gasped. “Run, run, run.” Her voice was breathy and nearly gone. But the twins just sat there, huddled together. “Oh, please run,” she begged them. Lissa buried her face on Kari’s shoulder and started whimpering. Kari stirred, sluggishly, raising her gaze from the bedspread.
The man stepped over where Marley was tangled up in herself, putting himself between the door and the rest of the room.
“No,” he said calmly. “Even if the security in this place has been damaged, you are still safer inside this room than out.”
“W-why?” Marley asked. How could that be possible?
“The angel would appear here now that he knows your location. If he could. But he can't.” This time his smile showed teeth. “Because I got here first. I'm here to help, you see.”
-twenty-one-
The idea was so ludicrous that it drove all thought out of Marley’s head. She stared at him. He smiled at her and leaned against the door. Neath’s claws kneaded on her shoulder. Carefully, she stood up. “You’re serious.”
“Absolutely. I don’t want anything happening to the little dears. As long as they don’t piss me off.” He winked at the kids.
“You’re a demon,” Marley stated. She took Neath off her shoulder and cuddled her.
His eyebrows lifted. “Don’t mistake me for them. I haven’t the principles of that kind.”
Marley tried to figure out what this meant, and then gave up. He was supernatural, he was the most awful thing she’d ever encountered, and he had some delusion that he was better than the alternative. That was what mattered. “Why? Why isn’t anybody noticing what the hell’s going on?” she muttered.
The monster smirked. “Glamour’s a powerful thing when unleashed, sweetheart. Glamour clouds the world, makes her lie. And the next morning she hates herself and tries to pretend nothing happened. The freak out there has access to a lot of glamour. Everybody in the hotel not in this room is busy staring at the pretty lights right now.”
Outside, there was a hoarse cry that sounded like Corbin. Marley flinched. She wanted to crawl onto the bed with the children and cower. Instead she raised her chin, acting like she wanted to feel. Old advice of her mother's. “Why would you want to protect them?”
His smile broadened. “Rumor has it they’ll make all my dreams come true someday.”
“Oh my God. What could something like you dream about?” Marley whispered.
“Exactly,” he agreed. He looked past her. “The raven child is losing. I’ll have to deal with the freak myself when he claws his way in here. Not that I expected much else.” He yawned.
Marley’s mouth shaped words, but she couldn’t force them out, until they were exploding out of her in a shout. “Do it now!” Neath’s claws bit into her arm.
He looked at her in surprise. “Do what now?”
“Go deal with that thing, if it’s so easy! Before Corbin dies!” Outside, the sun was setting. Was it evening already? But the sky was the color of blood in the smoke-choked twilight. The crimson light gave everything a strange glow.
“That might be amusing,” the monster admitted. “But no more amusing than staying here.” He eyed her. “Perhaps much less so.”
It was so hot in the room. Even with the sliding glass door closed, the smell of wood smoke and sulfur scratched her nostrils. He was enjoying her fear. She had never hated anyone so much. He was forcing her helplessness down her throat and she was choking on it.
But he wasn’t touching her anymore. She was no longer trapped in his hand. A little voice in her head pointed this out, over and over again, until finally it sank through the fear. Why was that? He’d so clearly enjoyed it.
There was no time to reason things out. Dropping Neath, she flung the door open and ran onto the balcony. The griffin was perched on top of a car, the top bowing in from the weight of the creature. She saw a glimpse of Corbin, blood on his arm and face, and then the griffin leapt. There was a crash of metal, a muffled whomp, and a billow of dark grey smoke. Both Corbin and the griffin staggered out of the smo
ke in different directions, Corbin coughing weakly.
The monster’s hand was on her arm again, pulling her away from the edge of the balcony. “No,” he said in irritation. She glanced at him angrily and realized, I’m more afraid for Corbin than I am of him. And he doesn’t like that at all.
Without thinking, she smashed her hand against his face. She felt the crunch, and had enough time to wonder at how easily a nose broke. Then a new jolt of fear raced through her as he barely seemed to notice. He caught her hand with his free one. He didn’t cry out, didn’t flinch, even as blood gushed from his nose. But the fear was followed by a thrill: He was bleeding. Even if he didn’t seem to care, his body was mortal; it could be wounded.
She yanked hard on her trapped arm, pulling him toward her and off his center of gravity. He flowed rather than stumbled, keeping his balance with the same physical mastery that let him absorb a broken nose without a wince. She didn’t care. She kicked with one foot and stomped with the other, aiming for his knee. Maybe that would break as easily.
He crouched. Something complicated happened. Air whooshed past Marley’s head as the world rotated.
She was dangling over the balcony, prevented from falling only by the monster’s grip on her arm.
“You are an idiot,” the monster growled. A drop of his blood spattered on Marley’s face.
“Do it!” she said. Maybe she’d handle the fall as well as Corbin did, she thought wildly.
He stared down at her, emotions warring across his face. She could see the conflict so clearly. Here was a creature, unimaginably old, and totally unused to having his will thwarted by the likes of her. He really wanted to let her fall, she could tell. But he also didn’t want her hurt. That was what her subconscious had noticed. He was like a dieting man in front of cheesecake he’d promised himself he wouldn’t eat.
“Marley!” the kids screamed, appearing at the balcony door.
And here comes cheesecake filled with razor blades, thought Marley spitefully. Try to eat them and you’ll choke on your own blood. She didn’t even know what the thought meant.
His mouth tightened as he glanced back at the kids. Then he yanked her arm up, so hard she gasped, lifting her high enough that her feet hooked the rail of their own accord. He caught her under her legs and then set her down on the nicely solid surface of the balcony.
As soon as he did, the twins moved toward her, falling over her in their eagerness to make sure she was all right. Neath twined between them all. Then they turned toward the monster.
He jammed his hands into his pockets, staring down at them. Once again, the temperature seemed to rise. This time, Marley felt a prickling across her skin, as if random parts of her body had fallen asleep. There was a pressure rising between the three of them and the monster. She didn’t know what was happening, but it felt like a weight was pressing down on her, and like she was sprouting spikes from her skin in response. She shifted uncomfortably and gathered the children closer. They were both distracted, their entire attention focused on the monster, their faces blank.
The monster shook himself and his stance shifted slightly. Marley’s prickly, spiky feeling vanished. Quietly, he said, “Go inside, children. We’ll all go inside.”
Marley gave them a little push, and they seemed to wake up. After a look up at her, they stumbled back through the door, Lissa picking up the kitten again as she went. He watched them and then looked at her, tilting his head toward the door. She gave him a feral smile. “What do you think?” She held up her hand, the palm still smeared with his blood.
“Fucking Christ,” he exploded. “I think that this isn’t going to end until this entire block is a smoking crater. If I break up the fight between your boyfriend and the freak, would you please go sit on the bed like a good little girl until it’s over?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but faded away into a shadow, just as he’d arrived.
“No,” said Marley, anyhow. She had never felt less like being a good little girl. “You two stay inside, though, just in case. No, further inside. Play with your dolls.”
“I threw my doll at the angel-Penny,” protested Lissa.
“Then watch TV!” Marley was already scanning the parking lot eagerly, trying to find the monster, or Corbin. It was easy to see the griffin, who was crouched on another car, wings flapping lazily. She finally found Corbin, on the far side of the parking lot. Even from that distance, she could see his awkward, hunched posture, as if he was braced against pain. He shouted to attract the griffin’s attention, and it leapt toward him, using its wings to turn the jump into an extended glide.
As it closed, Corbin’s posture changed, straightening as the wounded hunch dropped away. He brought his hands up and light flickered between them. The griffin flinched and the glide turned into a tumble. Thunder boomed as its wings frantically pounded the air. Then the creature plowed into a Lexus SUV.
And pushed itself to its feet again. Its beak opened and a raucous stream of noise hardly identifiable as language, let alone individual words, emerged. Corbin hunched to one side again, and Marley’s heart sank. She’d hoped he was faking before to keep the creature off guard. This was it; she knew it, even with the catastrophe vision suppressed. This was Corbin’s last stand. He was going to die keeping this creature away from her, and it wasn’t even the guy directing the hunt. Despair washed over her.
Tsk, said the monster’s mind-voice. The angel won’t even appreciate the flavor. He stepped out of shadow behind the crouching griffin, and said its name. Absolven.
The griffin jerked, midstep, and reared back even as it spun. As if hearing a whisper from across the room, Marley could distantly feel the monster speaking to Absolven. She twitched in reflexive sympathy even as she fought to again suppress the feelings he’d awakened. She’d asked for his help, demanded it, knowing he was a monster.
The griffin shook its head and closed its wings tightly. A shimmer, and it was a man again, oversized but limping. He stepped backward once, still shaking his head, and glanced between Corbin and the monster. Then he looked directly over to where Marley stood on the balcony and a scowl twisted his face. Inclining his head in a shadow of a bow, he turned and strode away. The monster called something after his retreating form, but Corbin interrupted, his voice harsh. Hands in his pockets again, the monster turned to him, but Corbin shook his head and started limping back to the hotel.
The monster fell into step beside him, loose and relaxed. He didn’t seem to be talking, but with every step, Corbin’s movements became tighter and more defensive, as if he was withdrawing inside himself. He stumbled, and the monster caught his arm. Corbin jerked it away, and stumbled again. The monster said something. “...reasonable... carry you...” Corbin glanced up at the balcony and Marley quickly turned away. If he didn’t want an audience while he accepted the monster’s help, it was the least she could do.
She went inside, wondering if she’d made the wrong choice. Would Corbin have actually preferred death to the monster’s assistance, as his body language seemed to indicate? But how could she have known that? How could she have known they’d know each other, as they seemed to? She didn't have time for Corbin to die a heroic death, anyhow. She opened up the hotel’s first-aid kit and unpacked antiseptic and other supplies.
“Is Mr. Corbin okay?” asked Lissa. “Is the bad guy gone?” She slipped off the bed and came over to hug Marley’s leg. The TV was on, but tuned to a weather station both girls were ignoring.
“He’s hurt, but I think he’ll be okay.” Marley wondered who they considered the bad guy—the griffin or the monster. “Did you know the man who was just in here?”
Tears filled Lissa’s eyes. “No,” she whispered. “He was scary.”
Marley dropped some gauze and wrapped her free arm around the little girl. “Yes. He was.”
Lissa whimpered into her shoulder, “We couldn’t make him go away.”
Kari, on the bed and holding her doll close, said, “He’s too big. They’re all too big. I
couldn’t open the door.” Marley blinked and then realized she was talking about the door at Penny’s, the one Ettoriel had been magically holding closed. I wonder if Senyaza has child therapists in their super-powered ranks, she thought uneasily. “You’re both still very little. It’s okay. You don’t have to be as strong as grownups.”
“The fire says we could be,” Lissa whispered.
“What?” Marley blinked and pulled the girl away to look at her. “What says you could be?” Lissa just shook her head. “Listen to me. Things are awful right now, but it isn’t up to you to fix it. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying to you. They’re part of the problem. The only thing you should be doing is staying safe.”
“Nobody else is fixing things,” said Kari sulkily. That hurt. While Marley was still staring at her, trying to find something to say other than a plaintive I’m trying, the door to the room opened.
Corbin was back and the monster was still with him, half supporting him, half dragging him.
-twenty-two-
“Here he is, sweetheart. Safe and sound.” The monster smiled crookedly as he released Corbin’s arm. Lissa scrambled back onto the bed beside Kari, as if she thought the monster would reprimand her.
Corbin sagged immediately and Marley leapt to help him to a bed. He folded his fingers over her hand. “Marley,” he said, his voice urgent. “Did you offer him anything to get him to help me?”
“What? No!” She wondered, What could I have offered him that he couldn’t have just taken? “I did punch him in the nose, though.”
Corbin stared at her and then broke into a broad grin. “You’re beautiful.”
Marley’s face felt warm and she turned to gather up the first-aid supplies. “What is he, anyhow?” she mumbled.
“We call them kaiju. Big monsters. Generally speaking, they want to destroy the Creator’s work, in a variety of nasty ways. My friends in the hospital try to keep their numbers low.”
Matchbox Girls Page 15
