Page 21 of Ryld's Shadows
A slow blink, then, “I’m glad. I like talking to you, too. I hope I never make you afraid. Cress lied. He was afraid. Always. He thought if he could make me afraid too then he wouldn’t be afraid anymore. But that doesn’t work.”
“It doesn’t. That’s how bullies think, though. I could see he was a bully by the way he talked to you.” Hank rose and handed the shirt back, absurdly pleased when Ryld’s fingers brushed his and lingered. “He’s gone. No more need to deal with Cress. And you know, if something happens, with the shadows, and I do get scared, I’ll always be more scaredforyou than of you.”
Ryld nodded and returned to his desk. Skepticism. That was what the expression was. Well, there wasn’t much Hank could do to prove it to him. Time would tell.
* * * *
Needful Thingswasn’t as scary as the title implied. Why the owners had thought naming a thrift store for a horror novel was a good idea baffled Hank, but it was just a nice, regular little thrift store inside. The usual back wall of knick-knacks. The usual corner reserved for books and CDs. The normal center racks of used and vintage clothes.
Good place to pick up a toaster, maybe. Ryld’s is a little glitchy.
It was a beautiful summer afternoon—not a scorcher, not too sunny—so they’d walked the several blocks rather than taking the subway. The walk seemed to do Ryld a world of good, his attention pulled here and there constantly, so for Hank it was more of a stroll. Very relaxing.
Ryld headed straight for the clothes, which, now that Hank knew what he did for a living, wasn’t surprising at all.
“Ryld! Oh my goodness, it’s so good to see you. You haven’t been in for so long I was starting to worry.” A human woman approached Ryld, stopping more than arm’s length away.
“Miranda Gern. Hello. I had…some trouble. I’m better now so I’ve come back.”
“I see that. Where is tall and scowly?”
There was a long pause, then Ryld answered, “Cress is no longer my minder.”
“Ah, I see.” The woman, Miranda, looked at Hank. “Is this your new minder?”
“No,” Ryld said firmly enough it made Miranda look at him again, startled. “This is Hank. He’s my companion,” Ryld continued in a more reasonable tone.
The woman looked Hank up and down appraisingly, with a smile that maybe was just a little too enthusiastic. “Well. Oh, my. Hello, Hank.”
Hank gave her an awkward wave, wondering if he should say something about what the arrangement actually was. But he couldn’t think of a good way without sounding even more awkward. “Hello, Ms. Gern.”
“Please, call me Miranda. Have you been Ryld’s…companion, long?”
“Not long.” Hank shook his head, even though it was completely unnecessary. “Just after tall and scowly left.”
She gave him a big smile. “Ah. Well, good riddance. Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with. Ryld, there are some new items that came in a couple days ago on that rack over there.”
Hank touched Ryld’s shoulder lightly and pointed when he had the little guy’s attention. “I’ll be over in electronics if you need me.”
There was a pause, and Ryld gave him the look Hank was starting to think of asprocessing. Then Ryld smiled. “Okay.”
Hank made his way over to the corner to search for any likely appliances while Ryld headed for another clothing rack. He kept half his attention on Ryld.
Perhaps three minutes had gone past when Miranda approached him from the opposite side. “Hello again.” Her voice was still pleasant, but pitched low, confidential.
“Er, hello.”
“I don’t mean to pry—well, no, that’s not true. I am prying. But Ryld is… I like him. You see? He’s brought several of his minders in with him, but never acompanion. Are you…?” She left the question hanging.
Hank stared at her a moment, trying not to be mortified. “Oh. Ah. No. Not that. The concept ofminderreally bothered Ryld. And from how his last one acted, I completely get it. So I’m here to be, well, more company for him than someone trying to keep him in line. Someone to help him when he needs help.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “Well, I suppose that’s a step in the right direction anyway. I do wish…” She waved a hand. “Well, never mind. Maybe a companion is what he needs.”
“I hope so, ma’am. I’ll do my best.” Hank gave her a polite smile, also doing his best to ignore the weird flutters in his stomach from her suggesting that he might be something more to Ryld.No. Talk about unethical. And you’re in no place in your life right now to be anyone’s boyfriend. Lover. Whatever.
In the five years since his disastrous crossing over—falling from a great height and nearly drowning in Lake Michigan with three broken ribs—he really hadn’t sought out arelationshipwith anyone. There were the curious, of course. One-night stands who were usually disappointed that he wasn’t a ferocious savage in bed. But he’d been too busy, too focused on becoming what this world needed him to be to entertain…
It hit Hank suddenly that he didn’t even have any realfriends. Wow. He was a sad, sad person.
