Page 47 of Starve
I don’t know what prompts me to, but I look up suddenly at the open doors, my gaze instantly going to the figure standing there, framed by the shattered doors and lit from my headlights that barely reach this far. The lobby is dark, for the most part, given the lack of electricity, so I can’t tell who it is at first.
“Cairo?” I ask, unsure. It doesn’t look him him, from what I can see. But Moro isn’t growling or freaking out, so I’m unsure if it could be any of the other creatures that were here that night. Surely if whoever is standing there intended to do me harm, Moro would be doing more than just watching, her fur on end and one ear cocked forward like she’s unsure.
“Not quite.” The voice is familiar, but I still can’t see the person’s face. Judging by their tone, it’s a woman, and I see her lift up a hand, finger beckoning to me. “There’s nothing to find in here, little bird. Just the smell of old death and the start of decay.”
“Who…?” I follow her out into the moonlight, where I can see it’s the barefoot woman from town, when I first saw Dr. Radley outside of this place. “You,” I breathe. When she turns her head, the moonlight reflects off of her eyes, giving them a greenish hue and making my heart jump in my chest. “You aren’t human.”
“No,” she agrees, a smile touching her lips. “But I’m starving enough to pass as one.” At my confusion, her brows lift, and a small, almost pitying smile appears on her full lips. “He really hasn’t told you anything, has he? He’s talked so much to me about you, about what he wants. But he’s keeping you in the dark.”
Her words send a chill down my spine. “I don’t know what any of that means,” I have to finally admit. “Do you mean Cairo?” She nods, so I think about my next question, or rather all the ones I want to ask, before continuing with, “What’s your name? Were you here that night? When…you know.”
“No.” The word is decisive, and I can sense disgust in her tone. “Hecalled them here, because he knew they were starving and wanted to make a point. But I cannot be called. My name is Agatha,” she adds belatedly, like she almost forgot I asked.
Her answer is just as confusing as my question had been, and I don’t feel any more informed on the subject than I did before.
“I’m sorry.” I tuck my hair behind my ear as Moro edges toward her, looking intimidated for the first time since I’ve had her. Unsure, I reach down to wrap my fingers in her collar, only for Agatha to snort.
“I won’t hurt your dog, little bird.” It’s so strange to hear Cairo’s nickname coming from her. “And she knows better than to try to hurt me. You don’t have to hold onto her.”
Slowly I let go of Moro’s collar, and my wolf dog edges forward to lightly, nervously sniff at Agatha’s fingers before darting warily back.
“I didn’t think she was afraid of anything,” I admit as I watch her submissive tail wagging and head down as she circles me, though it’s Agatha she’s looking at.
“She’s a predator. She knows when something is higher than her on the food chain.” Agatha shrugs.
“But she’s not afraid of Cairo,” I comment, confused by her words. “If it were just that, why wouldn’t she be afraid of him?”
Agatha doesn’t answer. She just looks at me, searching my eyes with her dark gaze. In the moonlight, the shadows under her eyes look ghastly, though they don’t take away from her beauty. She’s dressed similar to me, in shorts and a t-shirt. Though she’s barefoot, standing on the stone stairs perfectlybalanced and seemingly unbothered by the cold, night air, unlike me.
“Aren’t there other things you’d like to ask me? Maybe you’ll find me a bit less evasive than Cairo if you ask what you really want to know,” she invites unexpectedly. “Or are you just going to stand there and marvel at your dog wanting me to know she’s not a threat?”
While I am amazed and confused at why Moro is acting the way she is, I make a conscious effort to let that go for now. “What are you?” I ask, though I asked Cairo the same thing. “Cairo told me you were cursed, but that seems vague. There has to be a better answer, right?”
Agatha tilts her head first one way, then the other. She looks thoughtful instead of irritated. Like she’s figuring out what to say to me. “You’re not asking for a name.” I shake my head, though her words are a statement not a question. “And he won’t tell you what you want to know. He wants to protect his little bird, how quaint.” A smirk flickers over her lips, and she studies my face curiously.
“If you don’t tell her, I will,” she says suddenly, her voice a little louder, though not by much. She’s not yelling, and the level of volume is still conversational. “I don’t have the same interest in keeping her in the dark as you do.”
“Who are you talking to?” I ask, wondering if she’s just as crazy as Hattie and possibly me. But Agatha doesn’t respond. Instead she looks over my shoulder, prompting me to turn, until I’m facing the lobby doors once more, even though we’ve walked far enough to be halfway to the parking lot.
Cairo stands there, brooding. His arms are crossed over his chest, and even in the dark, I can see the displeasure on his expression as he stares at Agatha, though there’s no outward aggression or challenge in his body.
“She’s talking to me, Fern,” he says, voice quiet. “And you shouldn’t be here.”
Chapter 19
“Why won’t you tell me?”I round on him, watching his brows rise like he’s surprised at my boldness. But he looks over my shoulder again, likely meeting Agatha’s eyes once more.
“Because he worries he’s going to chase you away. He’s trying to hide the worst parts of what we are from you, little bird?—”
“Don’t call her that,” Cairo interrupts, showing her his teeth in a snarl. Though he drops the expression a second later and looks down at the ground. “Please,” he adds, though the word is unnatural and grating in his throat.
“Possessive, aren’t we?” Cairo doesn’t reply to Agatha’s teasing, and when I turn to look at her, I see that her eyes are on him, a little narrowed, like she’s waiting for something. Though judging by the way Cairo is looking anywhere but at her, he’s not going to give it to her if he can help it.
“Can one of you tell mesomething?”I hate how impatient I sound and feel. I hate that there's so much they aren’t telling me. “Can you tell me how you became what you are? And if I hear ‘we did what we had to do,’ one more time, I’m driving off a cliff. Or why you can mimic voices? How do you look completely human, but he doesn’t anymore, even though he did at Bluebonewhen we were there? And what you were doing there in the first place?” I add, this time looking directly at Cairo when I ask.
Agatha gives him all of five seconds before she snorts. “You’re impossible,” she tells the man behind me. “You want her more than you let on, but you’re too afraid of her leaving to tell her what that means.”” Cairo snarls a little, but it’s directed at the ground instead of at her. “He’s not lying, though. There’s no name for what we are. And this?” Her voice changes, her next words sounding just like Cairo’s voice.
“It’s to help us lure in our prey. If I sound like someone you know…” she trails off, but hearing her speak with Cairo’s voice, who doesn’t look a bit surprised, is unnerving. It sends a tremor down my spine, causing me to clench my nails into my palms. “Then I don’t have to work as hard,”she finishes in Dr. Radley’s voice.
