Authors: SM Reine
“No,” Elise said.
He stepped back to take a look at her. She was beautiful with her red-brown curls piled on her head and a dress that hit just above the knees. “I guess we didn’t. What were you doing this evening?”
“There’s a dead body in the tub and you’re interested in my night. I’m a bad influence.”
Anthony plucked a piece of glass out of her hair and dropped it in the sink. “You look great.”
“Uh huh.”
Betty was half-asleep on the couch in the living room. “They tried to kill me. I must be important,” she mumbled. Her injuries from the fire were covered in some kind of plastic, and the skin beneath it was completely raw.
Elise and Anthony went to a corner of the kitchen to talk without disturbing her. “Tell me what happened.”
Anthony whispered a quick and dirty rundown, and by the time he finished, Elise was pacing. Her face was drawn into a grim mask. Her lips were white around the edges. “You’ll have to stay here until I take care of this. Both of you. You can’t leave the warded perimeter of the studio. It’s not safe.”
“But my job—” Anthony protested.
“They’re watching me. They know who I’m spending time with. You can stay here or die.”
“Why? Who is ‘they’? What do ‘they’ want?”
She frowned. “That’s not important right now. I have to do an autopsy before the acid destroys my evidence. We still have plastic sheeting from renovating the garage. I’ll be right back.”
Elise ran downstairs.
“Why does she always do that?” Anthony asked the closed door.
Betty hugged a pillow to her chest as she sat up. Her face was still all puffy from the saline drip. “What, pretend you’re too dumb to understand what’s happening?”
“Yeah. That.”
“Maybe because we’re too dumb to understand what’s happening.”
“You’re lucky you almost died or I’d kill you myself,” Anthony muttered.
When Elise came back, she cut wide swaths of plastic sheeting off the roll and laid them across the kitchen floor. He would have liked to help, but Betty had woken up enough to become demanding again. She had a whole list of things she “needed,” which included a glass of water, Tylenol, and a snack. Preferably cookie dough.
“What do you want now? Your teddy bear?” Anthony asked, exasperated.
“Do you think I’m twelve or something? I’ll settle for a shot of tequila.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “Woo, those IV fluids aren’t joking around. You could float me over a football stadium right now. I’ve got to pee like a pregnant woman. Help me up?” Betty stretched her hands toward Anthony. He obediently hauled her to her feet and watched to make sure she arrived safely at the bathroom.
“Two assassination attempts, and Betty’s still Betty,” Elise said, unrolling another yard of plastic and slicing it with a box cutter. She actually sounded affectionate.
“The entire world could catch fire and Betty would still be Betty.”
“Don’t tempt fate.”
He helped her tape sheeting over the dining room table, which they had positioned in the middle of the kitchen. Once Betty surrendered the bathroom, Elise donned yellow rubber gloves and took the trash bag out of the tub.
The flesh suit spilled onto the table like a hunk of jelly. Anthony covered his nose.
“Jeez. Smells like locker room.”
Elise peeled back the eyelids on the head. “Black irises,” she muttered.
“What’s that mean?”
“On its own, nothing. A lot of ugly things have black eyes.” She set the head down. The neck was hollow and couldn’t support its weight, so it tipped onto its side. The mouth hung open.
“Turn that away from me,” Betty said over the back of the couch.
Anthony did as she asked. “Go to sleep. You don’t need to watch this.”
“Are you kidding? And miss the show?”
Elise ignored them as she sorted out body parts to make it lay flat. She palpated the bulging abdomen, and fluid squirted from the neck hole. “Interesting,” she said, separating the skin and peering inside.
He grimaced. “You’re not going to—”
She reached inside. Anthony’s stomach churned, but he couldn’t seem to make himself turn away.
Elise’s hand disappeared first, and then her elbow, and then her entire arm up to the elbow. It was like her arm vanished. The body didn’t even bulge. “Interdimensional pouch,” she explained when she saw his face. “It’s an infernal power.”
“Oh. Yeah. Of course.”
She extracted something as thick as a tree branch and covered in wiry hair. Elise set it on the table and reached inside for more. She pulled out four of them before Anthony realized that he had seen something like them before. “Those look like spider legs. Like what we found in the desert.”
“Mary Poppins would love this,” Betty said.
Elise shoved the box cutter into the neck hole. Her face went slack with concentration as her back muscles worked.
A long minute later, she withdrew a strip of flesh covered in glistening black fluid—and demonic brands.
“Bring me the binder on the coffee table,” she said.
Anthony flipped it open to the page marked by a sticky note. Elise had drawn a list of brands on the page and labeled them with “desert daimarachnid” and the date they had been camping. He held it up so she could see. Each brand matched, all the way down to the extra marks that obscured them.
“Does this mean the assassin was a giant spider in a human skin suit?”
“I’m saying it’s a giant spider in a skin suit owned by the same master demon as the last one.” She set down the skin, peeled off the rubber gloves, and scrubbed her arms in the sink. Her skin was red from the venom. “But it’s impossible. Mr. Black has angels, not spiders.”
Betty sat up. “Angels?”
“Long story.” Elise rolled everything up in plastic and duct taped it together so it wouldn’t leak. The resulting mummy looked way too much like a small human body. “I’ll dump this while I’m in the desert later today. I have to make our new favorite enemy have a very bad day.”
Anthony brightened. “You’re going to attack the guy who’s been after us? This Mr. Black? Then I’m coming, too.”
“Fine. I can put your mechanic skills to use on this one. But that’s not for a couple hours, so you should both sleep while you can.”
Ignoring Betty’s protests, Elise put her in James’s bed, gave her a glass of water, and shut the door. Then she pulled extra sheets out of the linen closet and dropped them on the couch.
“Where are you sleeping?” he asked.
“I’m not.”
He pulled his shirt off. Even though he had recovered a few things from his closet at home, including his trusty shotgun, pajamas hadn’t been among them. “We could sleep on the floor together. There’s plenty of room.”
“I said I’m not sleeping.” Elise’s tone was curt, but she softened the delivery by dropping a kiss on his shoulder.
“What do you want to do if you’re not sleeping?” he asked, lowering his voice so Betty wouldn’t hear if she was still awake. He touched Elise’s hip. Her eyebrows lifted.
“Seriously?”
“I don’t think I told you how hot you look in that dress,” he said, hooking a finger under one of the straps.
“What is it with you and giant spiders?” She spread her gloved hands across his broad chest and kissed his chin. “You’ve got serious issues.”
“Coming from you, that means a lot.”
She actually kind of giggled—or at least, what was a giggle for Elise, which was more of a growl. Anthony loved that he could make her do that.
He lifted her onto the back of the couch, pushed the dress up her thighs, and pressed himself between her legs. She was wearing a concealed knife, and she smelled like summer heat and sweat. Anthony wanted to devour her.
Having sex with Elise was never like “making love.” Anthony had two girlfriends in high school that had been fun and affectionate and sometimes a little wild, but with Elise, it was more like fighting a forest fire. She didn’t know how to surrender or be vulnerable. And she was never affectionate.
When he tried to bend her back for a kiss, she climbed his body and dug her fingernails into his shoulders instead. When he tried to pull off her underwear, she locked her legs around him. He tried to grab her wrists and found himself pushed back against the kitchen table. The plastic sheeting crinkled under him.
It was an unpleasant reminder that they hadn’t gotten rid of the body, and that someone was trying to kill Elise’s friends. It should have been scary. But maybe she was right about him having issues. The adrenaline only made his blood run hotter.
He tugged the straps of her dress down her shoulders and found she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“You did that on purpose,” he groaned as he palmed one of breasts, which had a thick ridge of scar tissue down the side.
She ripped his belt out so hard that one of the loops popped.
“Hey!”
Another little growl of laughter. “Deal with it.”
He caught her lips with his and kissed her, long and hard. When he finally pulled back to take a breath, her eyes were lidded and her cheeks were flushed. She really could be so beautiful sometimes. Beautiful, and scary.
“Do you ever think about the future?” Anthony murmured into her neck, trailing his hand down her thigh. His fingers traced along the edge of the knife’s sheath.
“No.”
“But it can’t be like this forever. Giant spiders and assassins.” He kissed the soft hairs behind her ear and was rewarded with a shiver.
She still managed to sound stern when she responded, even though her voice had taken a husky edge. “You’re optimistic.”
Anthony leaned back. He searched her face and found no hint of joking in it. “You retired once. You could do it again.”
“I don’t think about the future. I’m too busy surviving today.” Elise popped his fly open and snaked a hand into his boxers. “Why are you talking?”
Normally, he would have been happy to shut his mouth and enjoy himself. But her resistance to talking irked him. “What about… you know… marriage?” He caught her wrist. “Children? We’re young, and there’s lots of time…”
Her whole body went rigid. She pulled her hand out.
He realized belatedly that he had said something wrong, but he wasn’t sure what offended her more: the idea of quitting again, or the idea of a family?
She stepped back and he didn’t fight her. “You won’t bring that subject up with me again.”
Anthony laughed shakily. “We’re dating, Elise. This isn’t some taboo subject. I know you’re not used to any of this stuff, but I can tell you it’s normal for people like us to talk about things like that.”
She pulled her dress over those gorgeous breasts again. It was like throwing a steel-clad door between them. “I will never have children,” Elise said. “Kopides don’t do that. And I’m never getting married, either.”
It was hardly the coldest thing she had ever said to him, but it still felt a little like getting punched below the belt. “If we don’t have a future, then what are we doing? What’s the point?”
“We have sex. We spend time together. Isn’t that good?”
“But what about a year from now? Five years?”
She fluffed the skirt out where it had become stuck in the thigh sheath. “I’ve told you what I think. You know what? I have things to do. You need to stay here and watch Betty.”
“Yeah, but where—?”
Before he could finish the question, Elise threw the remaining pieces of the daimarachnid’s body over her shoulder and went downstairs, leaving Anthony alone.
He tried to get comfortable on the couch, but it was strange being in James’s apartment. Everything smelled like sage and jasmine and someone else’s aftershave. It didn’t help that his feet hung off the edge and that he still had half an erection that was quickly losing all hope.
Pulling the sheets up to his chin, he tried not to imagine the shadows on the ceiling were demons oozing with black pus.
After a few minutes, he heard the chain of the punching bag rattle downstairs.
IX
E
lise called James’s
cell phone twice and hung up on the first ring both times. She glared at his name on her contact list.
He would want to know about Betty. He deserved to know what was going on. But every time she thought about his loafers at the side of the bed, lonely without the rest of his belongings, she found herself punching the off button again.
Before she could decide if she should try to call again, her phone rang. It was Stephanie on the other end.
“If you’re trying to reach James, that’s not the way to do it.” She sounded exasperated. “He’s at a rehearsal downtown and forgot his phone. All you’re doing is preventing me from getting enough sleep for my shift tonight.”
“Fine,” Elise said.
“Why did Betty leave the hospital early?”
She didn’t feel like explaining. The good doctor would have only taken it as another sign that she was a bad influence who shouldn’t be allowed around normal people. Instead, she turned her phone off.
Hanging up had never been so satisfying.
It was almost eleven, but Anthony and Betty were still sleeping. Her boyfriend was sprawled across the couch with his arms and legs hanging off the side. She stood over him with her arms folded as he slept. Marriage. Kids. Three months together, and he had never once made the mistake of mentioning “the future.” It left a foul taste in her mouth.
He didn’t even twitch as Elise banged around in search of clothes. She ended up donning one of Anthony’s shirts and the same jogging shorts she had been wearing the day before.
Her car smelled of brimstone, even though the body in the trunk was thoroughly wrapped in plastic. She yanked the air freshener off the mirror and tossed it in the back before parking in a garage downtown.
It wasn’t hard to find out which theater was holding their dress rehearsals. The show James was choreographing was a major production, so there were signs plastered all over the casino to advertise it. Even so, it took Elise a few minutes to navigate the gloomy floors of the casino. Like all businesses of its type, it was designed to trap tourists among the slot machines with black walls, mirrored ceilings, and confusing signs.
She slipped in the side door behind the box office. It was propped open with an empty water bottle.