Page 18 of The Labyrinth
“Yeah, cause turning into an animal is totally ordinary everyday shit.”
He grinned, liking her snark.
“Am I going to have to worry about you growing weak on this reconnaissance mission?”she asked.“Because I’ll be truthful.I won’t be able to carry you anywhere.”
“No,” he answered.“I’ve about eight hours before I start feeling the effects.We should be back by then, so I’m not worried.”
She nodded and looked out the side window.He’d come to know, in the very brief time spent in her presence, that she was thinking up a lot of new things to say.
“When I was seventeen,” she started, the tone in her voice low and distant.“I came out of my house, ready for school, and a man came up behind me.A stranger.He slapped his hand over my mouth and started to drag me toward his car.I managed to bite him, and when he temporarily lifted his hand, I screamed.My next-door neighbor, Peter, heard and came running.He beat the guy up.”
Deacon’s heart ached from the emotional upheaval levied in her words.He kept quiet as she continued.
“I watch a lot of true crime, but I never wanted to be one of the stories,” she continued.“I don’t have a doubt in my mind that if Peter hadn’t intervened, I’d have been raped and killed.He saved me that day, and for that, I owe him the same.”
Now he knew why she was so tenacious.The thought of Marion being hurt or killed had him gripping the steering wheel tightly.Suddenly, his attitude toward Peter evaporated.Now, he wanted to help the man who helped the woman sitting next to him.
****
Deacon had given hera hoodie because of the early morning, and the weather was cool the further north they traveled.Past the Capital District, the traffic thinned out, and it wasn’t long before the concrete jungle gave way to lush, green, picturesque towns.
“It’s so beautiful,” she murmured.“I never knew New York had this.”
“Yeah, people tend to think the State is the city.”
They passed a fenced pasture where cows lazily grazed.A soft breeze waved the grass to-and-fro.
“Did you grow up here?”
“Yes.”
Something occurred to her.“Were you born in Greece?”
“What?”he asked, sounding confused.“No.Why?”
“Because you’re a minotaur.”
“And?”
“And ...you’re a minotaur.”
“You repeated yourself, but the answer is still no.”
“Is your dad a minotaur?”
“Yes.This curse is passed down through the male line.He died when I was twenty.Car accident.Mom lives in Greece.”
“She does?”
“No.”
She narrowed her eyes.“Do all minotaurs have a poor sense of humor?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?Why not?”
“You think I know all minotaurs through the whole world?”
