It’s okay. You thought being the Beantown dog girl was the worst thing ever. You were wrong. You can get through this.
“I’m sorry,” he bit out.
“For what?”
I edged out of the bathroom, avoiding a dead thing on the floor. Okay, not dead—it scuttled behind the sink, all long tail and scrabbly claws. Somehow I swallowed the scream and slammed the door, but I couldn’t stop shaking.
“You’re in pain. Frightened. So weak you can barely stand. And I can’t do anything. I might as well be human.” He spat the last word like a curse.
“If you were, I would’ve died in that bunker. Nobody could’ve come in and got me alone like you did.”
“If I was human, I needn’t worry that you’ll freeze. I’d have heat, at least, to offer.”
Bracing against the paneled wall, I tried to smile. “Hey, you love when mortals suffer.”
“Not you,” he whispered. “When you hurt, I bleed.”
“Sorry.”
Before, I’d thought he was wounded. I’d noticed … Oh my God, no. Horrified, I stared at his side, and before I could think better of it, I lifted his shirt and coat away from where I hurt the worst and found a black spot in the shape of the boot that broke my ribs. I had no idea the bond ran so deep. It’s like I’m his Horcrux or something.
I touched the wound lightly, but he still flinched. His skin felt like iced marble, form without feeling. “If you knew this would happen, if you knew I’d make you vulnerable, why did you agree when I offered to feed you?”
The Harbinger pushed my hands away and wrapped me up in the musty-smelling quilts and led me over to the guttering fire. “This is a world of infinite risk,” he said. “In my stony barbican, I abide with birds and bones and memories. Suffering is always better than nothing. I’ve gorged on nothing until I’m sick with it. So when you offer beauty, I’ll choose that, even if it comes at a cost. Pain proves that I exist, that I am.”
I could think of nothing to say.
He pressed cool lips to my forehead. “Don’t fret over me, dearling. I’ve been making bad choices since a thousand years before you were born and yet I’m still here. I’ll probably be prowling the wreckage long after you clay mannequins have blown one another to bits.”
THE KINDNESS OF STRANGERS
In the morning, I was a little surprised to wake up. My whole body hurt, and other discomforts had gotten worse. Real food, a hot shower, and clean clothes … there was very little I wouldn’t do for that trifecta. I stirred, astonished to find that I had been resting against the Harbinger all night. At my movement, he let go and folded to his feet with the preternatural grace of one who suffered no stiff joints or cold muscles. Despite tucking my hands against my chest, they still ached with the frost that made my breath visible as puffs of steam. I couldn’t stop shivering, and I couldn’t seem to wake up fully.
Not a good sign.
“We must get moving.” The gentle tone told me I must look horrible.
“Okay.” But I couldn’t stand up without him physically towing me upright, like I was a capsized boat at the mercy of stormy seas. “I’ll eat on the move.”
It was unlikely the Black Watch would be combing this stretch of road, so it should be safe to flag down a car, provided one would stop. I stumbled through the broken parking lot, but this wasn’t exactly a busy thoroughfare. Only three vehicles passed us by the time we went a mile, and none of them showed any inclination to be Good Samaritans. One energy drink stuffed my pocket, but it was so cold, I couldn’t bring myself to drink it. My chapped lips already burned in the chilly wind; that would only make it worse.
“You’re dehydrated,” he said.
“Stop reading my mind.”
The Harbinger ignored that. “I think I’m causing trouble in my current incarnation.”
With a faint shimmer, he shrunk in size, retaining many of his Colin features, but now he looked to be around five years old. Clever. While people might hesitate over picking up a stranded couple, it would take a special sort of heartless to leave a little kid out in the cold. I took his hand because that felt natural, and for the first time, the Harbinger felt warm to me. Combined with my other symptoms, I probably had a mild case of hypothermia, and if I didn’t warm up soon, it wouldn’t be Wedderburn or Buzzkill that did me in.
“If you have the energy to shift, can you take us back now?” I managed to ask through chattering teeth.
He shook his head. “Some feats are nearly cost-free. Folding space is not one of them.”
I guessed that meant changing his aspect didn’t drain much energy since it was a matter of tweaking human perceptions, not altering the world itself. While it made sense, it didn’t alleviate our suffering. We walked another half a mile before the next vehicle approached, a semi with a red-and-orange custom paint job thundering down the two-lane highway. I waved one arm frantically while the Harbinger did the same, and I thought for a minute the driver meant to zoom by without hesitation. But no, it just took longer to stop a rig this size. It shuddered to a halt fifty feet past us and I ran, nearly falling twice because my legs felt numb, but I couldn’t let the person change his or her mind.
To my relief, it was a woman in her late fifties with bottle red hair and gray roots coming in. She was portly and concerned as I lifted the Harbinger in. It was so weird for him to let me manhandle him, but he had to know that if he complained, it would seem odd. We couldn’t afford to set off her danger alarms. I scrambled in next and shut the door. A shudder went through me at how warm the cab was.
“Thank you so much,” I whispered.
“You kids might’ve been in deep doodie if I hadn’t been forced to detour. This road doesn’t get used much anymore.”
“We really appreciate it.”
The Harbinger climbed up on my lap and put his little arms around my neck. God, this is weird. I patted him with clumsy hands, wincing as the needles invaded my extremities. He rested his head on my shoulder, just like a tired kid would, and I stroked his hair, wondering if he was enjoying this. Before, he’d liked it when I petted him while assuring him he wasn’t a monster.
“No worries. Where you headed?”
“Minneapolis,” I said, after deciding it couldn’t hurt to tell the truth. It wasn’t like that was our final destination anyway.
“I’m going right through there. Name’s Nadine. I’ve been doing long hauls for almost twenty years, and I recognize when people are in real trouble. Was it so bad at home?” Her tone was gentle as she diverted attention from the road for a few seconds to offer a kind look.
In answer, I pulled back my hood so she could see the severe bruising on my jaw. “Yeah, we had to get away.”
She sucked in a swift breath. “I should probably drop you off at—”
“No, I’m twenty-one. I have ID.” It didn’t take a genius to guess she was about to send us to child protective services. Though they’d taken my phone, they hadn’t found the fake ID hidden in my shoe. “He’s mine, and you can see I didn’t let anybody hurt him.”
A tremor of laughter went through the Harbinger at that claim, but he obligingly turned his face toward the truck driver for inspection. This story we were crafting on the fly should make her sympathetic, right? Her demeanor softened, probably because wee Colin was cute as hell with his tousled hair and big eyes.
“Lord, you must’ve been a child when you had him. But kudos for getting out. People often don’t understand just how hard it can be.”
“It sounds like you know.” That should be safe enough.
She nodded, both hands on the wheel. “It’s been twenty-five years, but the scars don’t go away. People say, ‘She’s so dumb, why didn’t she just leave? I’d never let anyone treat me that way.’ They don’t understand how alone you are, how you start thinking you did something to deserve it, and most of the time, there isn’t any money to travel on. It takes so much bravery to do what you did, just grab the baby and go, not knowing what’s out ther
e or how you’ll survive once you’re away.”
Now I felt bad for exploiting her personal pain, but I couldn’t tell her that my abuse didn’t come from a domestic partner. If I told her I was involved in a supernatural chess game and I had been kidnapped by their mortal enemies, she’d drop me off at a mental health facility so fast it would make my head spin. So I just kept quiet and hoped it would help her to talk; then I realized she must be waiting for a response from me.
“You give me something to aspire to,” I said softly.
And it was true. I imagined Nadine fleeing her home in the night with the clothes on her back. If she could rise from those ashes and reinvent herself as a long-distance truck driver, then maybe I could still save Kian. It couldn’t have been easy to find a place to stay or get the training she needed, but from the look of this truck, she was doing well. I’d take heart in her success.
“I didn’t do it alone. People gave me a hand along the way, so that’s why I stopped for you and your boy. Paying it forward, you know?”
“We wouldn’t have lasted long out there.”
Her tone became brisk. “You need hot food and a shower. Lucky for you, I was planning a break at a truck stop in five miles.”
The travel plaza was big and rustic with a restaurant, a driver’s lounge, general store, and a fleet of trucks in the lot. There were also some tour buses as Nadine expertly parked her vehicle and then flipped down the sun visor to get something.
Offering me twenty dollars, she said, “That’s far less than relative strangers did for me. I’ll be here for an hour. If you want to ride on with me, meet back here on time.”
I let out a slow breath. “Okay. Thank you.”
With that, she climbed out of the truck, and we followed so she could lock up. The Harbinger didn’t let go of my hand even after we got to the entrance. It was a sprawling place done up in country-style décor with lots of wood and Americana memorabilia, photos of athletes in black and white, men in suits shaking hands. I didn’t pause to admire any of the homey touches since I had a lot to do and only fifty-seven minutes left.
First I went into the general store and bought the cheapest clothes they had: a pair of sweats and a novelty T-shirt. Next stop, personal hygiene. But when I asked how much, the woman said, “Nadine already reserved you a shower room. Here’s your key, honey.”
I’d expected a dormitory sort of thing, but it was a full bathroom with a lock on the door, clean tan tiles, a sink and mirror, hooks for my clothes, a bench where the Harbinger could wait, plus toilet and shower stall. I got in, pulled the curtain, and undressed. Inside, the place offered the same basic amenities as a cheap motel: tiny soap and shampoo, plus a scratchy towel. There was a plenty of hot water, and I moaned as it sluiced over me.
“Are you all right?” It was the first time he’d spoken since turning into a little kid, and his voice was more than a little disconcerting with me naked and only a thin vinyl curtain between us.
“Yeah. It just stings a little. This is way better, though, don’t worry.”
I spent a good ten minutes scrubbing and rinsing until it felt like my skin was raw in certain places. There was no money to spare for soothing creams, however, so I reached out of the shower feeling around for the towel, only to have the Harbinger place it in my hand. That startled me so much, I laughed.
“Something amuses you?”
“This whole situation just feels fairly absurd.”
“Imagine my dismay,” he said dryly. “I never pictured myself playing lady’s maid to someone like you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just get dressed. We only have forty minutes left before the kindly driver abandons us.”
“She wouldn’t mean it that way. I think she just didn’t want us to feel obligated to stick with her out of gratitude. But I doubt we’ll get a better offer.”
“Unlikely,” he admitted.
He passed my clothing through. Going commando was the only option, but the fleece felt so good on my raw skin that I almost cried. In this timeline, I didn’t have clothing to spare; otherwise I would’ve stuffed these jeans in the garbage can. Instead, I folded them and hoped a good washing could save them. My dirty things I stowed in the bag they’d given me for the items I bought at the general store, and then I was ready to eat.
“See, it’s good you’re not human, or I’d have to figure out how to feed us both on eight dollars and sixty-four cents.”
“Small mercies indeed.”
After I towel-dried my hair, we headed down the hall, past the store, and into the restaurant. I didn’t see Nadine anywhere, but we still had time. She might be upstairs in the lounge watching TV or something.
A busy waitress waved from the counter, where she was topping off a man’s coffee. “Take a seat anywhere,” she called. “I’ll be right with you.”
The room was pretty packed, a good indicator that the food must be tasty, so I chose a couple of stools at the counter. It wasn’t like we had time to linger over lunch. Based on the specials written on the chalkboard, I guessed it must be around that time. I ordered some coffee and a bowl of vegetable beef soup, surprisingly cheap on both counts. Certain franchises would be astonished that $1.09 could buy unlimited refills. My meal came with a basket of bread and crackers, and it was hard not to empty it in the first thirty seconds.
“Doesn’t he want anything?” the waitress asked.
I glanced at the Harbinger sitting quietly beside me. “We’ll share.”
“Okay, hon. But kids get a free dessert. I’ll get him a play mat.”
It took all my self-control not to break out into giggles when she set a battered plastic bucket full of chewed and broken crayons in front of the trickster god. He immediately plucked out a purple one and solved the maze puzzle, getting the goat out of the cornfield.
“Good job,” I said.
“If I can save annoying schoolgirls, why not goats? The sky is the limit.” He kept his voice soft to avoid attention.
Smiling, I devoured the soup, half of what was in the bread basket, and downed two cups of coffee. And when the nice waitress wasn’t looking, I ate the small slice of cake she brought for my “son.” Anyone paying close attention would be horrified at what a terrible mother I was, but luckily, the patrons were far more interested in their phones or the game playing on the big TV. Once I finished, I felt almost strong enough to face another round of sudden death against my varied opponents. We made it back to the truck with two minutes to spare, and I wished I could hug Nadine in pure gratitude. She waved away my thanks as we climbed back in.
“Nothing somebody else didn’t do for me at one point or another. If you tell me where you’re going in the city, I can drop you off.”
“Any bus stop should be fine,” I said.
“Greyhound or local?”
“We’re going a long way, so Greyhound.”
“Whereabouts?”
I trusted her as much as any relative stranger, but I was wary of dragging her into my problems. The longer we stayed with her, the greater the chances my troubles could explode all over her generosity. So I resisted the temptation to find out exactly how close she could take us to Pennsylvania. Of course, on a public cross-country bus, it might be even worse, and those people would just be bystanders who are in the wrong place at the wrong time. Chewing my lip, I wished I could ask the Harbinger, but he’d clammed up again.
But maybe …
“Should I…?” I whispered.
He nodded ever so slightly.
Yeah, things are already messed up enough. No point in making life more complicated. I already couldn’t stop worrying about what might be happening to Kian in the aftermath of the party. If everyone blamed him for it—oh, shit. It might already be too late. My stomach knotted. No, I can’t think that way. Everything will be okay. Right? But he must be wondering what happened, why I just disappeared, even if people at school weren’t blaming him for the crazy shit at Jake’s part
y.
“Pennsylvania,” I said finally, hoping her patience and goodwill didn’t run out.
“I’m heading through there on my way to New York.”
Relief surged through me. Now I didn’t need to worry about scrounging bus fare somehow. I had been holding on by a thread, trying not to obsess over problems before we got to that point, but it felt like a huge weight slid off my shoulders. The Harbinger squeezed my hand as if he sensed my shifting mood. Wait, not if. From what he’d said before, he did, no doubt.
“Then if you don’t mind the company, we’ll stick with you as far as you’ll take us.”
“It’s a nice change and your little one is so well-behaved, quiet as a mouse. Probably skittish around strangers, huh?”
“A little,” I mumbled.
“He’ll get used to me. We’ll be together for a while yet.”
“Thanks again. You probably don’t know Cross Point? It’s in northern Penn.”
“I’ll find it. I can’t promise door to door service, I hate city driving. But I’ll get you to a safe bus stop there.”
“You have time?” I thought there were usually delivery deadlines.
“Sure thing. The weather was okay coming through, so I’m ahead of schedule.”
“I wish I could offer to drive to help out, but…”
She laughed at that. “Forget it. I’ll be fine. But I do nap from time to time, so you and your boy will have to make do in front. I only have one bunk.”
“No worries. You’ve already done too much for us.”
“Stop, you’ll give me a big head.” She flicked on the radio, making me think she was done hearing what a heroine she was.
Okay, message received.
For like two hundred miles, we sang along with the radio instead of chatting. Her taste in music ran toward oldies, but thanks to Kian, I actually knew some of the songs. Funny how meeting him colored so many of my interactions. By the time we stopped at a rest area, I felt pretty good, all things considered. I went to the bathroom and pretended to take the Harbinger, who seemed less than enamored with all the subterfuge that came with acting like a human child.