Page 38 of Nightmare Rising

And then there was the question of what to sleep in—underwear or nothing or my day clothes? I hadn’t planned on company. Wearing my daytime clothes was not possible, as I had three changes only of shorts and tops. One set was wet and needed more rinsing.

Underwear then.

Even though I was running down on adrenalin, I could feel my heart pick up pacing. I went to the bathroom, slammed the door. Anger stared back as I looked in the mirror—angry at myself for feeling the pressure, angry at Val for being an attractive dickhead who could have just offered the bed even if he’d paid for the room. Angry that sex-that-wasn’t-gonna-happen was overwhelming me because we’d just killed a man and a thing with some sort of tentacles.

We’d justkilled.

Nausea rolled, and my hands flew over my mouth until the feeling settled.

I’d come here to find a man and to end him.

Buck up, Buttercup, shit just got real.

My mind wandered to the thing in the back seat of Harry’s car.

Shit got real and grew tentacles.

The ball of my life was unraveling, turning into threads of knotted and snapped string when I needed order and a pair of knitted socks.

The mirror showed my reality. I wasn’t crazy. My neck was purple and blue, the dark bruise wrapping around my throat. Cautiously, I prodded myself and flinched. Still, it looked worse than it felt. How could I talk to a farmer about wandering about on his property when I came across as a domestic violence victim?

Maybe I could buy a scarf.

Now that I was no longer angry, I stared at myself. Was this woman in the mirror even me? My hair was damp from bathing in that pool. The dimmed headlights had shown me where to step, what branches to duck under...with the sunken car only yards away and no one around but me. Val had wandered off to sink the body into a different place in the creek. If the car was found minus any bodies, people might, apparently, ignore it for ages. I’d stayed there cleaning up, alone. He’d left me the knife, and I’d held onto it, even while washing off the blood. Then I’d dressed in new clothes and waited for him to return.

I should’ve been petrified of being left alone.

If I were normal, I’d be calling the cops, this instant, over what’d happened, and be too terrified to step into a car with a stranger.

Val was a stranger—a killer.

I shouldn’t have been thinking about sex, I should’ve been shaking. I hadn’t even thrown up that truffle burger.

The memories comforted me. Not a blanket of calm but an assurance of ability. I’d handled worse during the past, a hundred times. Dead people and creatures were my realm.

“But I’m not you, Cucitrice,” I said to my eyes. “I’m me, and I have nothing to defend myself with except for this.”

I took the knife into my hand. The metal protrusions on the hilt were familiar under my palm. Maybe more memories would come. More skills. They’d better, or I’d ask for my money back.

I showered, rinsed my bloodied clothes again, and dressed in my last pair of shorts and the top with a million white skulls on black. Appropriately Goth. When I took a last look in the mirror, I saw that the bruises on my neck were fading.

Fading?

“Well, now. That’s helpful.” I angled my head to see as much as I could. Definitely lighter than before. Not normal, but this particular warping of reality finally made me smile.

While Val showered, I drank half a beer and stared at the wall, cradling the bottle in my hands. The TV would be obtrusive, and I needed to think. Val had some larger objective than merely tracking down my SK. That wasn’t surprising. What we’d discovered so far was akin to finding out the USA...or the world had a bunch of terrorists hidden where nobody could see them. I understood his motives, especially if he worked for the government like he said.

Thing was, the world had never taken care of me.Quid pro quo. Val was not going to make me deviate from my true course.

“Find and kill.” Nothing else would satisfy me. I took a small swig, gulped it down. They say the first of anything is the hardest, and I’d popped my cherry tonight. Silver-fucking-lining.

I smiled.

As for the twilight zone, Val could save the world on his own.

Sure, I’d help him; I wasn’t a complete bitch. I’d tell him what I knew. Like the fact that there were at least two types of creatures. Dreamandnightmare. Had that been clear before? Knowledge was sifting in so sneakily I wasn’t certain what I’d known just a day ago. Nightmare and dream, as well as a few hybrids that were a half mix. Those,holy crap…

My wolf.

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