“Yes.”
He forced himself to say it. “That was a lie. Wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Well, that pretty much said it all. It was what he’d suspected. And given the circumstances, pursuing it was less than useless.
She elaborated a bit anyway. “It’s fun to play with helpless things.”
“Okay.”
“You learned that for yourself tonight, didn’t you?”
He grimaced. “Right. Yeah. I guess I did.”
“Good. Now then—let’s eat.”
They got out of the car and started across the parking lot toward the bright lights of the diner. It was a cool night, a fact emphasized by the stiff breeze that roughly brushed his face before shifting direction. He shivered and noted a chill was beginning to prickle his flesh again. It was disconcerting to realize how short-lived the warmth provided by draining out a human body was. Narcisa was “surpassingly” old. It was little wonder her secret place doubled as a mass grave that could rival any other in history.
Thinking of that wretched place prompted another question. “Why are we driving anywhere? Couldn’t you just magic us to wherever we need to be?”
“I find driving soothing. I like the feel of the wind in my face. And I like the throb of the engine vibrating through my body. I like the sound of tires on the open highway. It’s all so very…mmm… sexy . Few things are more sensually satisfying than driving a finely tuned automobile.”
David said, “Huh.”
A doorbell jingled as Narcisa banged through the diner’s front entrance. Heads turned at the counter as they came strutting inside. Well, Narcisa strutted. David followed stiffly in her wake, his eyes darting in every direction, his nerves buzzing even though he knew there was virtually no chance anyone here could harm him. On the plus side, there weren’t many people in the diner at this hour. A pudgy, gray-haired woman sat on a stool behind the counter near the cash register. She was reading a paperback romance novel and didn’t look up as they entered. David guessed she was in her fifties. A younger man dressed in white was visible in the open kitchen area behind the counter. The cook, presumably. A skinny Mexican janitor moved a wet mop in slow circles over the tiled floor at the far end of the dining space. A waitress in a short skirt was bussing tables as they came in, loading dishes onto a black tray. The waitress was a slender woman with tired, red-rimmed eyes and the kind of blonde hair that came from a bottle, age probably just a shade south of forty. The only customers present were the three at the counter, all of whom were grossly overweight. Their massive bottoms overlapped both sides of the stools upon which they were sitting. Their bulging bodies strained the cheap Wal-Mart clothes they wore. Two were jowly, red-faced men, and the other was perhaps the single least attractive woman David had ever had the displeasure of setting eyes on. It was obvious the trio were all related somehow.
He couldn’t suppress a smirk.
The family that dines together, dies together .
The gray-haired woman behind the register glanced up from the romance paperback as they approached the counter. She squinted at Narcisa for a moment, then her eyes went wide with shock. She dropped the book and hopped off the stool, instinct propelling her backward until her back met the partition separating the counter area from the kitchen. The stool toppled over and struck the floor with a clatter.
Narcisa beamed at the terrified woman. “Well, hello. We meet again. Long time, no see.”
The woman opened her mouth wide and screamed with everything she had.
David cringed.
Murder and the joys of sadism were things he’d come to appreciate, but all the screaming that went along with those simple pleasures was a thing he could see tiring of in a hurry.
Narcisa glanced at him. “I didn’t kill them all that night back in the ’70s. This caterwauling hag was barely out of her teens then. Back then she was a
He forced himself to say it. “That was a lie. Wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Well, that pretty much said it all. It was what he’d suspected. And given the circumstances, pursuing it was less than useless.
She elaborated a bit anyway. “It’s fun to play with helpless things.”
“Okay.”
“You learned that for yourself tonight, didn’t you?”
He grimaced. “Right. Yeah. I guess I did.”
“Good. Now then—let’s eat.”
They got out of the car and started across the parking lot toward the bright lights of the diner. It was a cool night, a fact emphasized by the stiff breeze that roughly brushed his face before shifting direction. He shivered and noted a chill was beginning to prickle his flesh again. It was disconcerting to realize how short-lived the warmth provided by draining out a human body was. Narcisa was “surpassingly” old. It was little wonder her secret place doubled as a mass grave that could rival any other in history.
Thinking of that wretched place prompted another question. “Why are we driving anywhere? Couldn’t you just magic us to wherever we need to be?”
“I find driving soothing. I like the feel of the wind in my face. And I like the throb of the engine vibrating through my body. I like the sound of tires on the open highway. It’s all so very…mmm… sexy . Few things are more sensually satisfying than driving a finely tuned automobile.”
David said, “Huh.”
A doorbell jingled as Narcisa banged through the diner’s front entrance. Heads turned at the counter as they came strutting inside. Well, Narcisa strutted. David followed stiffly in her wake, his eyes darting in every direction, his nerves buzzing even though he knew there was virtually no chance anyone here could harm him. On the plus side, there weren’t many people in the diner at this hour. A pudgy, gray-haired woman sat on a stool behind the counter near the cash register. She was reading a paperback romance novel and didn’t look up as they entered. David guessed she was in her fifties. A younger man dressed in white was visible in the open kitchen area behind the counter. The cook, presumably. A skinny Mexican janitor moved a wet mop in slow circles over the tiled floor at the far end of the dining space. A waitress in a short skirt was bussing tables as they came in, loading dishes onto a black tray. The waitress was a slender woman with tired, red-rimmed eyes and the kind of blonde hair that came from a bottle, age probably just a shade south of forty. The only customers present were the three at the counter, all of whom were grossly overweight. Their massive bottoms overlapped both sides of the stools upon which they were sitting. Their bulging bodies strained the cheap Wal-Mart clothes they wore. Two were jowly, red-faced men, and the other was perhaps the single least attractive woman David had ever had the displeasure of setting eyes on. It was obvious the trio were all related somehow.
He couldn’t suppress a smirk.
The family that dines together, dies together .
The gray-haired woman behind the register glanced up from the romance paperback as they approached the counter. She squinted at Narcisa for a moment, then her eyes went wide with shock. She dropped the book and hopped off the stool, instinct propelling her backward until her back met the partition separating the counter area from the kitchen. The stool toppled over and struck the floor with a clatter.
Narcisa beamed at the terrified woman. “Well, hello. We meet again. Long time, no see.”
The woman opened her mouth wide and screamed with everything she had.
David cringed.
Murder and the joys of sadism were things he’d come to appreciate, but all the screaming that went along with those simple pleasures was a thing he could see tiring of in a hurry.
Narcisa glanced at him. “I didn’t kill them all that night back in the ’70s. This caterwauling hag was barely out of her teens then. Back then she was a
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