The waitress dropped off my bowl of pudding along with my check for whenever I was ready; no rush. I pushed it around with my spoon, unable to take even the tiniest bite. I kept looking at my phone, refreshing the screen when it threatened to go dark, counting each second. I wondered where they were. I should have asked them where they were coming from. Was traffic holding them up? The long moments and useless thoughts drew on until I couldn’t take it anymore. I pushed myself up and sneaked a peak back over the wall into the bar area—and immediately wished I hadn’t. Goliath was closer; just a few feet away from the low wall that separated us. He still appeared to be looking through the crowd; searching. I shrank down, cursing softly under my breath.
“See something you like over there, sugar?”
My head whipped around. A man stood at the edge of my table. I had never met him before and nothing struck me as being particularly fae about him, but I knew he had to be Goliath’s friend. He looked out of place. He had good ol’ Southern boy written all over him from his worn jeans and gaudy Lone Star State belt buckle to his button down plaid shirt. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, attractive enough with his close cropped blond hair and former high-school jock build. It was his eyes that made me go cold. There was no life in those eyes. They were two flat, hazel marbles; like the cold gaze of a dead fish. The fear must have shown on my face, because his smile stretched into a leer. He leaned casually against the wall like we were old friends chatting. In all actuality, he had just neatly trapped me in my seat.
“Back off, buddy,” I snapped. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“That ain’t important, sugar.” He kept his voice low, so the couple at the nearby table wouldn’t be disturbed. I wanted to scream for help, but something in those dead-fish eyes told me that would be a very bad idea. “What is important is that you had a little run in with a friend of mine a few weeks back. Big fella. A little hard on the eyes. Not from around these parts, if you know what I’m sayin’?” He pointed up, across my table. I followed the line of his arm.
Goliath was less than a foot away, on the other side of the wall, watching me through the glass divider. Our eyes met and his maw split into a toothy grin that turned my bowels to water. I couldn’t look away. I croaked, “What do you want?”
“Well, last time you had a few friends break up the party just as my friend there was getting to know you,” he drawled. “And he was so broken-hearted, he just had to find you again and tell you how gosh-darn pretty he thinks you are.”
I flashed hot and cold, torn between anger, fear, and embarrassment. I felt like I was spinning. The room was starting to feel oppressively warm. It took every bit of willpower I had to turn away from the troll but I fixed his buddy with my best “back the fuck up” stare. “I’ve got news for you, asshole. You think you’re funny? You’re not. You’re the furthest fucking thing from it. So why don’t you and ugly over there piss off. Find someone else to harass.”
The faux friendliness drained away, his leer becoming a silent snarl. “I don’t think you should go calling strangers names, Warder.”
Fuck. Me.
My chest tightened so much that I could barely take a breath. All my thoughts were scrambled, sent tumbling by a tidal wave of fear. All this time I had held on to the hope that Mairi had been right; that Goliath hadn’t marked me for what I was that night. I had hoped that my secret was safe. Each day that had passed without us finding him—without him finding me—it had gotten easier to tell myself that lie. As usual, I was wrong.
It took me a few seconds too long to recover and pull myself together. My retort rang hollow, even to my own ears. “And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He laughed. “Awww, sugar, you’re a terrible liar.”
I wanted to slap that smug expression off of good ol’ Texas Pete’s face. I gripped the edge of the table so hard my healing wrist twinged in protest. I considered leaping over the table and making a run for it, but even if I managed to get out of the restaurant after causing such a scene, that would only leave me even more screwed. I couldn’t run home and hide, when they could so easily follow me. The realization that I was trapped and helpless made me want to throw up. Where the hell was my back-up?
While I was wrapped up in the hell of my mind, my new friend helped himself to my dessert. Around a mouthful of it, he said, “You may think those new friends of yours can protect you, but you’re wrong darling. Me and my buddy over there found you once. Took us some time, true; but we can do it again now, easy as pie. A girl with skills like yours should have known better than to go showing off like that, calling in her fancy back-up and whatnot.”
I couldn’t look at him. I could feel Goliath on the other side of the wall, slavering at me like a starving dog just begging to be let off its leash. Every muscle in my body ached; tight and ready to shake to pieces the moment I let go. I felt my eyes sting, desperate to water. Voice cracking, I asked one last time, “What do you want from me?”
“We just wanted to let you know that we know. We know what you are. We know who you are. And now?” He dropped the empty bowl back down on the table with a clatter. “We know
where
you are.”
He stalked off and I lost sight of him as soon as he turned the corner. I pushed myself up and looked over the wall. Goliath was gone too, though how someone so big and distinct could have melted into the crowd so fast was anybody’s guess. I thought I caught a glimpse of him by the door, but it was gone in a flash. I leaped to my feet, a couple of twenties thrown down on the table. I couldn’t give two shits about over-tipping at a time like this. I grabbed my bag and coat and ran, pushing my way through the crowd and tossing out apologies as I went. I burst through the doors and nearly tripped over my own feet as I stumbled down the single step to the sidewalk. The street was busy enough for a chilly fall night, but the troll and his crony were nowhere to be seen.
Footsteps pounded up behind me. I whirled around, falling back into the fighting stance Gannon had taught me, fists raised.
“Whoa, Cat, it’s us! Stand down!” Mairi skidded to a halt, skirt fluttering around her striped stockings. She was panting nearly as hard as I was, out of breath from her own sprint. Gannon and Kaine were hard at her heels, both looking like they were spoiling for a fight.
Their anger had nothing on mine. I strong-armed Mairi out of my way. “Where the hell were you guys? What took you so long?”
Kaine frowned and looked around, making a shsshing motion with his hand. “We got here as fast as we could—”
“Well you weren’t fast enough! They’re gone. Did you hear me?
Gone
!” I was a hairsbreadth away from screaming. Tears streamed down my cheeks, though from fear or anger I couldn’t say. I was shaking so hard I couldn’t keep my purse on my shoulder. Passerbys hustled along, looking over their shoulders at the scene I was making. I didn’t care.
“We couldn’t get here any faster.” Gannon took the fore when Kaine turned away, displeased by my display of emotion. He sounded angry too, but not nearly repentant enough for one making such an inadequate apology. He spread his hands in entreaty. “We were all the way across town. There was nothing we could do.”
“You don’t get it, do you? They know who I am. They know
what
I am. They were looking for me and they found me. This might have been the one chance we had at stopping them from letting all their little friends know I exist! You promised to keep me safe but the first time I needed you—” I couldn’t continue. I turned away and buried my face in my crumpled jacket. I trembled, trying to keep my legs from giving out. I should have known all along that something like this would happen.
Mairi came up behind me and wrapped her own coat around my shoulders. Her words were soft in my ear. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
I wanted to push her away. I wanted to cling to her and sob. My whole world felt like it had been shaken to the foundation. All the fight drained out of me. I fished my keys out of my purse and handed them to her. I didn’t spare Gannon or Kaine a single glance as I let her lead me to the car. I just couldn’t.
All this time I had been convincing myself that I was strong; that I was a fighter. All it had taken was ten minutes to rip me down and prove that I was a silly little girl in over her head. I had thrown my lot in with strangers—dangerous strangers—and expected them to live up to their word when it counted. Silly me.
Stupid, silly me.
Chapter Fifteen
The alarm went off for a third time on Tuesday morning. I slapped at it again, this time aiming for the kill switch instead of the snooze. I rubbed the sleep crust from one eye and glared at it. My digital adversary told me I should have stumbled into the shower twenty minutes ago but there I was; still entangled in my blankets, with my hair frizzing out in a halo around my head. I felt safe in my warm little cocoon. Safe and sleepy, even though I had spent the better part of the previous day dozing on and off in the very same place.
In fact, I had spent the last few days shut up in my apartment. Unlike the last time, where I had indulged in a bit of crazy after my world was rocked, this time I had spent a good amount of time crying and stamping my feet. I’m pretty sure there was a hefty amount of bemoaning my fate and rethinking all of my life choices as well but, who can tell? By Monday I had stopped spending time in the living room, where the treadmill glared at me with accusation, opting for quality time with my bed and laptop-turned-DVD-player instead.
My phone had been on perma-silent, making it easier to ignore all calls. Mairi had checked in via text a few times, but she seemed to understand that I needed a bit of space to come to grips with the emotional upheaval the other night had caused. The fae-house had also rung me twice. I had let both calls go to voicemail, where they remained; unchecked. I wasn’t ready to deal with them just yet.
I had forestalled Jenni with the claim of a nasty stomach bug. It was the same lie I had told to my boss yesterday morning before turning over and falling back into a sleep often interrupted by bad dreams. I wasn’t ready to cop to all-out depression just yet (that wasn’t really my thing), but I had no motivation to get out of bed, let alone face work. I was running out of sick time, and the boss would be super pissed if I called out a second day in a row, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
I looked down.
The cellphone was already in my hand.
When the automatic system picked up on the second ring I punched in the numbers that would direct it to Allison’s extension. I could remember, once upon a time, when I had hated calling out sick. Loathed it really, to the point that I had often gone into work when legitimately ill just to avoid making that awkward phone call in the morning. I guess those days had faded into the past with the rest of the normalcy in my life. I didn’t feel the overwhelming guilt and panic I once had, but I still wasn’t looking forward to the disapproval I would hear on the other end either. I held my breath and hoped it would go to her voicemail.
I should have known I wouldn’t be that lucky.
“Good morning, this is Allison speaking. How may I help you today?”
The amount of chipper in those words hit me like a brick. I pulled a face like I was dying, sticking my tongue out even if no one could see it. Petty, sure, but it made me feel better at a time when so little did. I didn’t bother trying to clear the sleep fog from my voice. “Hi Allison. It’s Caitlin.”
I could almost hear the frost crackle as it settled over the line. “Good morning Caitlin. What’s up?”
Yeeeeeah, there was nothing “good” in that greeting.
The me of a few months ago would have started having heart palpitations over the impending lie after such a chilly reception. Present Caitlin? I don’t think my heartbeat even sped up. I said, “Nothing good, unfortunately. Still feeling pretty terrible. Thankfully, I’m not glued to the toilet anymore, but I think I’m gonna need another day of tea and toast to get back on my feet.”
When in doubt, hedge on the side of TMI. It discourages too many unpleasant questions.
There was a moment of silence and I could picture the sour pucker I was getting on the other end of the line. I threw in an “I’m sorry” though I didn’t think either of us really believed that I was. It was just another of those social niceties in the angry boss/contrite employee game but, hey; I tried.
Finally, she graced with me a small sigh—possibly more of an angry nasal exhale—and said, “Fine. Feel better.”
The call ended.
I stared at the screen on my phone, searching myself for any hint of surprise, but found none. I didn’t care and it was pretty impossible for me to pretend otherwise. I knew that I should be feeling some sort of remorse or worry over the hot water I was wading into with her but… I didn’t. I couldn’t. Facing a pissy soccer mom and her verbal reprimands hardly seemed frightening after looking into the eyes of a fairytale creature who wanted to eat my spleen.
I tossed my cell back onto the nightstand and rolled over. The blankets followed, enveloping me in a warm, downy cocoon. I snuggled in until I found a cool spot on my pillow, hoping the physical comfort would quiet my mind and lull me back to sleep.
~*~
A few hours later I had gotten out of bed just for a change of pace. Not that parking myself on the couch, still in my pajamas, was much of an improvement. The TV was on but I wasn’t paying attention to it. I was using the cooking channel more to mark the passage of time than for entertainment purposes. Whenever one overly cheerful hostess was exchanged for another, I knew another half hour had passed.