responded, “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll join you in a sec.”
She heard Alec’s steps disappear down the hall and Linda’s droning voice trailed off behind him. With a sigh, she looked at the piles again. It wouldn’t hurt to look a little closer. Just in case.
“Bob?” she called out softly. “Bob, are you in here . . . somewhere?”
There was no response and Natalie reached out to toe one of the piles gently. In response it began to rock.
“Shit!” she barked as she made for the door. She squeezed her way through the space and staggered into the hallway just as the pile toppled and slammed the door behind her with its full weight.
She covered her chest, her borrowed heart rattling against her ribs. Getting crushed in the door by a pile of trash was not a very romantic way to die. It was by far more embarrassing than any of her various movie and book deaths.
“Oh my God!”
Her heart, which had begun to calm, leapt back to pounding when she heard Linda’s scream from the kitchen. She pivoted and headed toward the sound, dodging piles as she went. She burst through the open door to the kitchen and came to a sharp stop.
The kitchen was as bad as the rest of the apartment. The counters were all covered with cans, bags, piles of trash. They shivered on the floor almost to the ceiling. They had taken over.
Alec and Linda stood in front of a big walk-in freezer that was squeezed into a space next to the fridge that had probably been meant for a little eat-in kitchen area originally. They had opened the double doors, and inside, propped up between rows of ice cream and frozen dinners, was Bob. Blob.
Dearly departed Blob.
Natalie squeezed her eyes shut. As someone who had studied pathology both for professional and personal reasons, she knew what kind of terrible death his had been. Alone in the cold dark, the oxygen slowly leaving the tight, sealed space, he would have gasped for breath. His fingers and toes would have tingled painfully, then lost all feeling. Eventually he would have fallen asleep and never woken up, but the time while he was awake must have been utterly terrifying and painful.
“Oh, Bob, poor Bob,” she whispered.
“Why did he have a walk-in freezer?” Linda murmured. “In a shitty apartment with hardly any space?”
Alec rubbed his scruffy beard. “He had to eat a lot to maintain his physical form, to keep from turning into a totally gelatinous object. I would guess this made it easier. He could store half a cow in here.”
Natalie sniffed and tried to keep tears from flooding her eyes. “I don’t care why he had a freezer. How did this happen? Walk-ins usually have a safety release inside.”
Alec turned toward her. He was pale beneath the shaggy scruff of beard and his wolfish golden eyes glinted with a combination of anger and sadness.
“Because of this,” he said, and lifted a small lock that he held in his hand. “Blob didn’t do this accidentally. It was murder.”
Over the years since Alec had moved to New York, found out about the monster therapy group from Drake of all people (werewolves and vampires had always been well aware of each other), and met Natalie and the others, he’d come to expect certain reactions from the monsters no matter what new circumstance they faced.
Drake would always monologue, usually way off topic. Linda would cry. Kai would get bored with it all or set herself into a complete denial phase that went against all her intelligence and strength. Hyde saw every situation as a new opportunity to go wild, and Jekyll would have to constantly fight to keep him in line.
But Natalie . . . Natalie was a different egg, and that interested him. She never reacted the same way twice. She kept her emotions close to her vest. She was really good at not going monster . . . in fact, he’d never seen her do it even once. If it wasn’t for the scars and the superhuman strength, he might not believe she was a monster at all.
Today, faced with
She heard Alec’s steps disappear down the hall and Linda’s droning voice trailed off behind him. With a sigh, she looked at the piles again. It wouldn’t hurt to look a little closer. Just in case.
“Bob?” she called out softly. “Bob, are you in here . . . somewhere?”
There was no response and Natalie reached out to toe one of the piles gently. In response it began to rock.
“Shit!” she barked as she made for the door. She squeezed her way through the space and staggered into the hallway just as the pile toppled and slammed the door behind her with its full weight.
She covered her chest, her borrowed heart rattling against her ribs. Getting crushed in the door by a pile of trash was not a very romantic way to die. It was by far more embarrassing than any of her various movie and book deaths.
“Oh my God!”
Her heart, which had begun to calm, leapt back to pounding when she heard Linda’s scream from the kitchen. She pivoted and headed toward the sound, dodging piles as she went. She burst through the open door to the kitchen and came to a sharp stop.
The kitchen was as bad as the rest of the apartment. The counters were all covered with cans, bags, piles of trash. They shivered on the floor almost to the ceiling. They had taken over.
Alec and Linda stood in front of a big walk-in freezer that was squeezed into a space next to the fridge that had probably been meant for a little eat-in kitchen area originally. They had opened the double doors, and inside, propped up between rows of ice cream and frozen dinners, was Bob. Blob.
Dearly departed Blob.
Natalie squeezed her eyes shut. As someone who had studied pathology both for professional and personal reasons, she knew what kind of terrible death his had been. Alone in the cold dark, the oxygen slowly leaving the tight, sealed space, he would have gasped for breath. His fingers and toes would have tingled painfully, then lost all feeling. Eventually he would have fallen asleep and never woken up, but the time while he was awake must have been utterly terrifying and painful.
“Oh, Bob, poor Bob,” she whispered.
“Why did he have a walk-in freezer?” Linda murmured. “In a shitty apartment with hardly any space?”
Alec rubbed his scruffy beard. “He had to eat a lot to maintain his physical form, to keep from turning into a totally gelatinous object. I would guess this made it easier. He could store half a cow in here.”
Natalie sniffed and tried to keep tears from flooding her eyes. “I don’t care why he had a freezer. How did this happen? Walk-ins usually have a safety release inside.”
Alec turned toward her. He was pale beneath the shaggy scruff of beard and his wolfish golden eyes glinted with a combination of anger and sadness.
“Because of this,” he said, and lifted a small lock that he held in his hand. “Blob didn’t do this accidentally. It was murder.”
Over the years since Alec had moved to New York, found out about the monster therapy group from Drake of all people (werewolves and vampires had always been well aware of each other), and met Natalie and the others, he’d come to expect certain reactions from the monsters no matter what new circumstance they faced.
Drake would always monologue, usually way off topic. Linda would cry. Kai would get bored with it all or set herself into a complete denial phase that went against all her intelligence and strength. Hyde saw every situation as a new opportunity to go wild, and Jekyll would have to constantly fight to keep him in line.
But Natalie . . . Natalie was a different egg, and that interested him. She never reacted the same way twice. She kept her emotions close to her vest. She was really good at not going monster . . . in fact, he’d never seen her do it even once. If it wasn’t for the scars and the superhuman strength, he might not believe she was a monster at all.
Today, faced with
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