Page 43 of Slayer Mom
He didn’t. He did much worse and weirder things. I tried to yank on his hair, but my hands started going numb, then all of me, until I couldn’t feel his bite or anything else. I couldn’t move, couldn’t blink.
He released me, and with my blood staining his chin, he swept all the dishes from the table with one careless swipe of his hand and then put me on it, like a human sacrifice. I couldn’t move, could only watch as he ripped apart my shirt and then buried his hand in my side, where the monster had clawed me. Maybe it was a good thing that I was numb. He rummaged around for a while. Yep. Definitely a good thing I couldn’t feel whatever he was doing.
“You see,” he finally said, pulling his hand out and holding out a little glob of blood and jelly. “Those hounds don’t die easily, and if they do die, they can respawn in anyone with an open wound. It takes some time for the germ to become something retrievable, like this. If spawned alone, it will work its way to a body of warmth and wet, often human, sometimes a dog or cat. And then, it grows overnight into that beast you had such a delightful time barely not dying from. Having one of those explode out of you is worse than many things. How can you be my exterminator if you’re off getting exploded by hounds of death?” He tossed the glob in the air, opened his mouth, and caught it between his teeth. He cocked hishead while he chewed and then smiled, teeth gleaming while my blood was still all over his chin. “I’m such a good Grand Master, caring so tenderly for my young and unwise subjects. You should sleep now.”
Sleep? I couldn’t move! How could I sleep? And that thing had been inside of me? Why couldn’t he just say, ‘you need to go into surgery, so I’m going to call the doctor and put you to sleep with a nice normal sedative’ before he reached inside of me and pulled out… I couldn’t really think about it without wanting to vomit, and I couldn’t move, so vomiting was off the table. I, however, was on the table, still like I was going to be sacrificed or eaten.
“You’re right. It would be a pity to waste all this blood.” He bent over me and… I don’t know what he was doing. I couldn’t see him right there, and I couldn’t feel anything. For all I know, he was performing all sorts of kinky stuff with my blood and open wound, but I had absolutely no idea.
He raised his head and was less bloody than before. “You really should sleep. I can feel your will resisting the idea, but you need to rest and recover before you go off on another impetuous be-murdered spree. I’m afraid I must insist.”
He was over me, maybe floating, maybe just holding himself up on the table. His eyes were so dark, endless depths that swept around me until they swallowed me into the abyss of nothing and I was forced to sleep.
twelve
. . .
I woke up angry.Hungry. Terrified.
The Grand Master was terrifying, infuriating, and horrifying, but worst of all was that little ball of goop that would have exploded out of me, killing me and whoever was around me, including my husband, Hazen, who had somehow gotten tangled up in this awful mess and wanted to stay in it.
If he wasn’t going to leave, then I had to. I couldn’t just hang around waiting for the monster that I couldn’t stop, or the one that leapt out of me and ripped him apart. I had no other choice but to run.
I kicked off the downy blankets of the hotel bed that were exactly the right amount of solid with a down topper and headed for the door. My purse was on the table with my knife and holster, the one that had been strapped to my leg before the Grand Master invited me to dinner. I grabbed them and ran, not calling the front desk for chicken. I didn’t call for my car, either. I called an Uber as I walked out of the hotel towards my house. I needed to get my passport. I wasn’t just leaving town. I was going to find somewhere on the other side of the world to hide. I’d need cash to get there. I’d stop at an ATM on the way to theairport. It was late, one a.m. so maybe Hazen was home. Could I say goodbye to him again?
I called home. It rang a dozen times by the time the Uber came. I gave him the address and then called Tom. He answered after three rings.
“Tom. Is Hazen with you?”
“No. Where have you been?”
I swallowed hard and looked at the back of the head of my driver. Maybe I should have brought my car, but I couldn’t trust the front desk lady not to tell the Grand Master what I was doing, and I didn’t need him breathing down my neck. Or biting it in half. Or anything else. I couldn’t exactly say, ‘The Grand Master summoned me so that he could remove an exciting embryotic beast from my wound. That was a party. I should have called you and Gloria so you could join the dancing,’ not with the driver there.
I took a shaky breath. “There were some unexpected issues from our last meeting that I had to take care of.”
“You sound spooked. Calm down. I’ll meet you where you are.”
“I’m driving. I’m on my way to my house to get a few things.”
“Fine. I’ll see you shortly.” He hung up.
I was staring at the back of the guy’s head when the phone rang again, buzzing and ringing so loud and startlingly that I dropped it and shrieked a little. The driver ignored me. He could chalk my erratic behavior down to drunkenness or a midlife crisis.
I picked up the phone, unknown number. Could I just ignore it if it was the Master? I’d gotten too casual around him, too disrespectful. He was a terrible, horrible, powerful monster that could rip apart everything I loved if he didn’t feel like it was inconvenient.
I answered and then held my breath. Nothing. “Hello,” I said then pressed my lips together.
“You did not ask me for instructions on tonight’s hunting expedition.” His voice gave me shivers, and not the sexy kind.
“I didn’t think I’d go hunting tonight. I need to recover from the injury.” The one he’d made worse by shoving his hand in my side. Not that it hurt now, or really felt anything like bad. I poked it and then realized that the driver was glancing at me through the rearview mirror. What had I said? Was it incriminating? Hunting. Hunting? What could I say about hunting? “I mean, I hunt for a good deal night or day, but I threw my back out at the last trunk sale, and I didn’t get so much as a sample. I don’t work this hard to look this good without something to show for it.” That’s when I realized that I was wearing a robe. How had I not noticed that I wasn’t wearing any actual clothing?
There was a long pause. “Did you hit your head?”
“Right? I keep asking myself that. Why don’t we talk later? I’m with this guy who keeps giving me looks,” I murmured, talking into the phone and covering my mouth.
“What kind of looks?”
“With eyes. The print has eyes on it, and I think it will look really good with the lime pants from last time. I can’t talk now. I’m in public.”
