‘‘I was just heading to the bathroom,’’ he said. Those Zen eyes were calm, unreadable.
‘‘Right.’’ I moved out of the way, both disappointed and relieved he hadn’t said anything about the cow outfit.
‘‘Nice cow,’’ he said just before he shut the door.
Terrif. I padded off to the bedroom, and took a deep breath before actually stepping through the door. The room was small, but if I focused on the one wall that was almost all window, and kept the door open, I was pretty sure I was tired enough I could handle my claustrophobia and get some sleep. I didn’t care that it wasn’t even five o’clock yet. I was tired.
Nola knocked on the door frame and walked into the room. ‘‘So. Tell me what’s been going on.’’
I pulled the handmade quilt down and crawled up to the head of the bed. Nola sat on the foot of the bed. She was still wearing her overalls, but had kicked off her boots. She held something in a towel in her hands, and at first I thought it was a cup of tea. Then it meowed.
‘‘You mean Jupe hasn’t eaten her yet?’’ I asked.
Nola petted the kitten’s little gray head. ‘‘No. Poor thing. She finished off an entire can of tuna. When did you get a kitten?’’
‘‘She’s not mine. I found her when I found the kid.’’
‘‘Talk to me about it.’’ Nola scooted across the bed so she could lean against the footboard and sit with her legs crossed up. The kitten mewed again, and Nola put her in her lap and petted her. The kitten fell asleep midpurr.
I heard the pipes in the old house thrum and figured Zayvion was taking a shower.
‘‘I don’t know how to explain it,’’ I said. How was I supposed to condense the last two days—days that felt like months—into something that made sense? Where should I even start?
‘‘How did your dad die?’’ In typical Nola fashion, she cut right to the heart of the matter.
I told her I didn’t know. I told her I’d gone to see him that day, which she was surprised to hear. I told her I’d threatened to take him to court, which she was not surprised to hear. I told her about Mama and her sons, about the youngest Boy being hit, and the Hounding job that led me to my father. I told her about Bonnie chasing me, and the kid and cat I stumbled over buried in the garbage at the river. I told her the kid had been so hurt I thought he was going to die.
She listened, and only interrupted when things got confusing. She didn’t offer opinions, encouragement, or criticism.
Then I hesitated. ‘‘This part gets a little foggy. Someone had used magic like a bandage on the kid’s wounds and I tried to sort of sustain that spell. I think I might have healed him. With magic.’’
She sat there and stared at me like I’d just told her I’d vacationed on the moon. ‘‘Can that happen?’’ she asked.
‘‘I’m pretty sure it did.’’
‘‘Have you ever done that before?’’
‘‘No. I’m not even sure I could do it again. It was strange, Nola. When that kid touched me, he did something to—with the way I use magic. To the way I perceive it. Like he took off my blindfold and I could see so much more. See the possibilities of what I could do. . . .’’ I stared at the wall behind her, trying to find the words to explain the experience and coming up with nothing. I must have stared a little too long because Nola sounded worried.
‘‘Okay, that’s it. You’re going to see a doctor.’’
I blinked. Looked back at her. Tried out my winning smile. ‘‘I’m fine. I don’t feel any different except for these.’’ I held up my hands. ‘‘Please don’t call a doctor, Nola, I really am okay.’’
She didn’t look convinced. ‘‘We’ll talk about it in the morning. What about Zayvion?’’ How did he get involved in this?’’
‘‘Dad hired him to watch me. He said he quit the day I saw my dad.’’ I didn’t say the day my dad died. I guess it still hadn’t sunk in—that he was gone. It just felt like how it always was between us: him off somewhere hoarding money and power, and me trying my best not to be anywhere near him.
‘‘What do you think about Zayvion?’’
I leaned my head back on the headboad. I’d slowly sunk down while talking, so now I was lounging more than sitting. ‘‘I have no idea.’’
‘‘Do you like him?’’
‘‘He’s a good kisser.’’
She raised her eyebrows and smiled. ‘‘So far so good. Let me rephrase the question. How much do you like him, and how long has this been going on?’’
She was my best friend. The one woman who liked me even though I was crazy sometimes. The one woman who kept her feet on the ground no matter what happened. I didn’t have to tell her everything. But I usually did. It was strange, but, in a way, she probably held more memories of my life than I did.
‘‘I do like him. But I don’t think I should. I’m so weirded out right now, I’m not thinking straight, not feeling straight. He’s quiet, Nola. Insular. But he’s gone out of his way to help me more than once and hasn’t asked for anything in return, which is great and worries me. I mean, real life doesn’t work like that. There’s a price for everything, you know? And every time I think I have him figured out, he does something, and I’m back at square one again. It’s hard to tell who he really is.’’
‘‘Sounds like he’s a lot like you. Does he have any redeeming qualities?’’
I scowled at her. ‘‘Remind me why I come here?’’
‘‘Because I am your best friend, and you know I’m always here for you if you need me. Oh, and you think my opinions are pure gold.’’
‘‘Gold?’’
‘‘Well, you think my opinions are pure something.’’ She grinned and it made me smile too.
‘‘So how about some of that golden wisdom?’’
She tipped her head back and stared out the door. She was quiet for a while, her calloused hand still on the kitten’s head. She had a habit of not saying anything until she was really ready to give her opinion. I hoped she wouldn’t want to sleep on it before telling me how screwed up my life was. I hoped she’d tell me she thought everything was going to work out okay.
She finally looked over at me. ‘‘Allie, I think you need to take a little time and figure out what you’re going to do next. You have been accused of killing your father. You skipped town with someone you barely know, and picked up a guy who had been stabbed. You didn’t go to the police and didn’t go to the hospital. That is going to be hard to justify.’’
‘‘I know. I tried to get Zay to take me to the police, but he said it wouldn’t be safe.’’
‘‘And you believed him?’’
I shrugged a shoulder. ‘‘I was fried. I couldn’t think. He was there when I needed him, though.’’ The memory of his hands on my skin, the mint and warmth of him that I was drawn to like a magnet to metal, rolled through me.
There was something between us. Maybe something more than just a physical attraction. ‘‘He helped Boy too. And didn’t leave Cody behind. Or the cat. I think that counts.’’
Nola nodded. ‘‘Well, I think you should go to the police. For one thing, you’re innocent, for another, you’ve been chased by that Hound woman and we don’t know what she wanted to do with you. I’m not sure what to do with Cody.’’
I yawned. ‘‘I just couldn’t leave him behind to bleed. Zay suggested we get him to a hospital and see if he’s on record.’’
‘‘Something else to do in the morning, after he finishes sleeping himself out. We’ll get him up and let him eat, then see what he has to say on all this. Now, how are you really doing with your dad?’’
Oh, I so couldn’t talk about this, because if I did I’d just cry, and if I started crying I wasn’t going to stop. ‘‘I’m okay. I’m trying not to think about it too much, yet. I don’t think I want to talk.’’
She patted my leg. Even though her husband, John, had died four years ago, the marks of grief still showed in her eyes. I knew she’d understand.
 
; ‘‘I’ll let you get some sleep, honey. We’ll see what we can do to straighten your life out in the morning.’’
I snuggled down between the blankets, not caring that I hadn’t brushed my hair and was going to regret it in the morning. The bed was soft but not too soft, and the blankets smelled of soap and a little like flowers.
‘‘Thanks, Nola. For everything.’’
‘‘Any time. But let’s try a visit with less drama and more shopping next time, okay?’’ She picked up the kitten and got off the bed, then called Jupe. I heard him clomp across the living room—which was across the entryway hall from my room—and pad through the door.
‘‘Jupe is going to sleep in here with you tonight.’’
‘‘Why?’’
Nola pointedly looked out the door, and I propped up enough to see what she was looking at.
Zayvion had made up the couch in the living room, and was stretched out on it, a blanket tossed over his hips and chest, leaving his bare legs and arms free. His eyes were closed, but I didn’t think he was asleep yet.
‘‘Like I can’t look after myself?’’ I whispered. ‘‘I’ve been dealing with him for days.’’
Nola raised her eyebrows and gave me a long look. ‘‘Do you know this man?’’ she whispered. ‘‘Do you know anything about who he is? I’ve watched you fall into bed with men so fast that you didn’t even know their names. And not one of them treated you right.’’
‘‘That was high school, Nola.’’ At her look, I added, ‘‘Okay, okay. And college. And after that.’’
‘‘And this is now,’’ she said. ‘‘It doesn’t change my opinion.’’
‘‘You worry too much.’’
‘‘I’m not the one with burns up my arm and face, nor am I on the run from the law.’’
I looked up at her. She wasn’t angry, wasn’t trying to make me feel bad. She was worried. Deeply. And I was lucky to have a friend who cared that much about me.
‘‘Sorry,’’ I said. ‘‘I’m just not thinking very straight.’’
‘‘I know. That’s why I’m thinking for you.’’ She walked over to the bed and squeezed my hand. ‘‘Good night, honey. Are you sure you don’t want anything for the burns or bruises?’’
‘‘No. They really don’t hurt.’’
She walked to the door, and Jupe followed her. ‘‘Stay, Jupe,’’ she said.
Jupe wagged his tail and tromped back into the room, made a circuit of the meager space between the bed and door, then sprawled out across the floor. He took up so much room that my chest instantly tightened with the panic of being closed in, trapped.
Nola propped the door open wide, giving me more breathing room. ‘‘Good night, Allie.’’
I licked at my lips, eyed the floor full of dog, and looked out at the not-sleeping Zayvion with all that great space around him.
‘‘Is this really necessary?’’
‘‘I think so,’’ Nola said. ‘‘Trust me on this.’’ She turned off the lights, leaving me and the beast in the darkness. I heard her stocking feet go through the living room, then up the stairs to the second floor. I listened to her check on the kid in the real guest bedroom, wished she’d put me in that room instead because at least it was big enough for me and the dog, then heard her walk to her own room. Pretty soon I heard her light click off and then the squeak of bedsprings as she settled down.
The dark room was a box, a grave, a coffin. My heart beat clunked along while I practiced calming mantras. I could do this—I’d shared a dorm in college. When I had to, I could handle small spaces. And this room was much bigger than an elevator. Bigger than a bus, a crowded subway, a compact car, a cramped closet, a crate—okay that line of thinking was not helping. I was starting to sweat.
Think positive.
This room was so big, a dozen Jupes would fit in it with me. And if I could just stop thinking about it, I could fall asleep and if I could fall asleep, I could stop thinking about it.
I worked on meditating and relaxing my muscles systematically, starting at my toes. By the time I got to my knees, the dog was snoring. By the time I got to my elbows, Zayvion was snoring.
Great. Like sleeping between dueling chainsaws was going to do me any good. I knew I’d never be able to fall asleep.
Then, of course, I did.
Chapter Nine
Cody wasn’t asleep. He kept his eyes closed while the lady he did not know came into the room. She stopped by the bed he was lying in and pulled the covers up closer to his chin. That felt good and made Cody wonder if he should stop pretending to be asleep now.
Wait, the older, smarter part of him said.
So Cody waited. A lot of people had done bad things to him. Maybe the lady was going to be bad too.
She moved around in the room and Cody didn’t know what she was doing. Pretty soon, he felt something press down at the bottom of the bed like she had left something there. Then the lady walked out of the room.
Cody waited. He was good at waiting. He thought about nice things, like sunshine and wind, and maybe fell asleep for a while. When he woke up, he tried not to think about bad things, like the Snake man and the death man and the knife and the magic and the pain. . . .
Cody whimpered. He remembered the bad things. The bad things were bigger and stronger than the good things. He breathed and breathed, but it did not make the bad things go away. He had to get away from them. He had to run. But the older, smarter part of him had told him to be quiet. He didn’t want to make the older, smarter part of him mad.
Open your eyes.
Cody opened his eyes. He was in a room. A new room. He had never seen it before.
He turned his head. The room was dark, but a little yellow light, like a star, twinkled by the floor and made just enough glow that he could see. There was a window with pretty curtains on it and the wall was covered in rows of little flowers.
Cody liked flowers.
Maybe this was a good place. A place where the bad things couldn’t find him. He held still and listened. There was wind outside the window, but not a lot of other sounds. Cody was curious about the outside, but tired, too. The spell the older, smarter part of himself had used on him to make the Snake man think he was dead hurt really bad. A tear trickled down the side of his nose. Cody didn’t like that the older, smarter part of him had done that bad thing.
It was a good thing, the older, smarter part of him said. It saved us.
‘‘It hurt,’’ Cody whispered.
I’m sorry. You were brave.
Cody sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. The older, smarter part of him did sound sad. And Cody had been brave. Brave enough to ask the lady with magic inside her to help.
Yes, that had been a good thing too.
Cody wondered where that lady was. And then he thought about something else. Kitten. His heart started hitting the inside of his chest too fast, and his throat got all scratchy and scared. Where was Kitten?
He sat up and looked around the room. More tears fell down his face. Cody was all alone and afraid. Maybe Kitten was all alone and afraid too. He had to find her.
He moved his foot and bumped something at the bottom of the bed. Something heavy like a blanket or a towel. Cody looked down at it. It was a towel with a lump in the middle.