her.
“Your eyes,” I said, “were glowing in the dark.”
“Funny thing? In all my baby pictures, they’re brown. Like I said: there were other rituals, besides the killings. Dad wanted to make me just like him, a chip off the old block. Had these grandiose dreams of starting a wolf-king cult. Just a happy little pack of serial killers, roaming the country and biting out throats. He was going to fix me up with some nice young man, and I’d pump out lots of evil babies. Everybody wants grandkids, right?”
“So,” I said, cautious, “what you did back there, your strength—”
“When I get heated, when the adrenaline starts to pour? I’m stronger than most people. Faster. All my senses get sharper. It’s not something I have to think about, like you and your magic; it just happens . There’s limits: I’m not gonna outrun a freight train or leap tall buildings in a single bound, but it’s a handy equalizer when hunting the sorts of creatures that go bump in the night. Love that stupid look on their faces, when they think they’ve cornered a helpless victim and suddenly realize they had it all backward. They show me their claws . . . and I show ’em mine.”
She took a long drink from her mug, guzzling the ale down. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and sighed.
“My dad, he had a beast behind his eyes. Or maybe it was always there, and he just woke it up. I’ve got one in me, too. A smaller, sleepier one, but it’s the same beast. I’ve got to toss it some table scraps every now and then, to keep it happy and fed.”
“What happens if you don’t?” I asked.
She smiled ruefully at her plate.
“Then it demands a three-course meal,” she said, “and that wouldn’t be good for anybody, now would it?”
EIGHT
We drove back to the motel with full stomachs and heavy eyelids. No lights burned behind the curtains of April and Kevin’s room, so we decided to turn in and catch up with them in the morning.
Our room hadn’t been freshened up since sometime in the early ’70s. From the garish tree-patterned comforters on the two queen beds to the cheap paper-wrapped soaps in the cramped bathroom, I felt like I’d been in this room a hundred times before. Spend enough time on the road, and they all start to look the same.
“So you’re really okay, bunking with me?” Jessie asked.
I sat on the edge of my bed and shrugged off my jacket. “Why, do you snore?”
“I mean, after what I told you tonight.”
I tugged at my tie, loosening the Windsor knot. “I asked you for the truth, you gave it to me. I haven’t seen a reason not to trust you. If you really thought it’d be dangerous, I think you’d insist on a private room.”
She gave me a curious look. “Yeah, that’s right.”
I carefully rolled my tie and slipped it back into my suitcase, next to the four others I’d packed.
“Besides,” I told her, “we’re hunting the Bogeyman. I can’t deal with that and be afraid of the Big Bad Wolf.”
Jessie tilted her head. She was quiet for so long I started to think I’d offended her, but then she broke into a toothy grin.
“The Big Bad Wolf. I like that. But on the subject . . . ”
She walked across the room and pulled back the accordion-style closet door.
“This? Stays open .”
I couldn’t argue. Sleep came fast once the lights went out, but my dreams were a labyrinth of empty houses and closet doors. I ran in slow motion and silence, through room after lonely room, looking for something I could never find.
Iwoke to the alarm clock’s shrill whine, dragging me out of nightmares and into hard reality. I wasn’t sure which was worse. Scarlet numbers in the dark read six o’clock, and the first glow of dawn peeked around the edges of the window curtain.
Jessie moaned, swore, and pulled a pillow over her head. “You can have the shower first,” she muttered.
“So you can sleep another fifteen minutes,” I said, pushing the covers back and forcing
“Your eyes,” I said, “were glowing in the dark.”
“Funny thing? In all my baby pictures, they’re brown. Like I said: there were other rituals, besides the killings. Dad wanted to make me just like him, a chip off the old block. Had these grandiose dreams of starting a wolf-king cult. Just a happy little pack of serial killers, roaming the country and biting out throats. He was going to fix me up with some nice young man, and I’d pump out lots of evil babies. Everybody wants grandkids, right?”
“So,” I said, cautious, “what you did back there, your strength—”
“When I get heated, when the adrenaline starts to pour? I’m stronger than most people. Faster. All my senses get sharper. It’s not something I have to think about, like you and your magic; it just happens . There’s limits: I’m not gonna outrun a freight train or leap tall buildings in a single bound, but it’s a handy equalizer when hunting the sorts of creatures that go bump in the night. Love that stupid look on their faces, when they think they’ve cornered a helpless victim and suddenly realize they had it all backward. They show me their claws . . . and I show ’em mine.”
She took a long drink from her mug, guzzling the ale down. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and sighed.
“My dad, he had a beast behind his eyes. Or maybe it was always there, and he just woke it up. I’ve got one in me, too. A smaller, sleepier one, but it’s the same beast. I’ve got to toss it some table scraps every now and then, to keep it happy and fed.”
“What happens if you don’t?” I asked.
She smiled ruefully at her plate.
“Then it demands a three-course meal,” she said, “and that wouldn’t be good for anybody, now would it?”
EIGHT
We drove back to the motel with full stomachs and heavy eyelids. No lights burned behind the curtains of April and Kevin’s room, so we decided to turn in and catch up with them in the morning.
Our room hadn’t been freshened up since sometime in the early ’70s. From the garish tree-patterned comforters on the two queen beds to the cheap paper-wrapped soaps in the cramped bathroom, I felt like I’d been in this room a hundred times before. Spend enough time on the road, and they all start to look the same.
“So you’re really okay, bunking with me?” Jessie asked.
I sat on the edge of my bed and shrugged off my jacket. “Why, do you snore?”
“I mean, after what I told you tonight.”
I tugged at my tie, loosening the Windsor knot. “I asked you for the truth, you gave it to me. I haven’t seen a reason not to trust you. If you really thought it’d be dangerous, I think you’d insist on a private room.”
She gave me a curious look. “Yeah, that’s right.”
I carefully rolled my tie and slipped it back into my suitcase, next to the four others I’d packed.
“Besides,” I told her, “we’re hunting the Bogeyman. I can’t deal with that and be afraid of the Big Bad Wolf.”
Jessie tilted her head. She was quiet for so long I started to think I’d offended her, but then she broke into a toothy grin.
“The Big Bad Wolf. I like that. But on the subject . . . ”
She walked across the room and pulled back the accordion-style closet door.
“This? Stays open .”
I couldn’t argue. Sleep came fast once the lights went out, but my dreams were a labyrinth of empty houses and closet doors. I ran in slow motion and silence, through room after lonely room, looking for something I could never find.
Iwoke to the alarm clock’s shrill whine, dragging me out of nightmares and into hard reality. I wasn’t sure which was worse. Scarlet numbers in the dark read six o’clock, and the first glow of dawn peeked around the edges of the window curtain.
Jessie moaned, swore, and pulled a pillow over her head. “You can have the shower first,” she muttered.
“So you can sleep another fifteen minutes,” I said, pushing the covers back and forcing
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