Was she really a coward at heart? “For my birthday. Was...is that why you wanted the house? The property?” Had Jared been sitting on an emerald mine in fucking Vermont?
That’s fucking silly, Bea. Come on.
“I was concerned about the irruption of greiben on the southern side of that mountain. I held the northern ostensibly for mining concerns, but mostly to keep the infection from interacting too much with mortals. I hadn’t had time yet to start operations—the cold iron in the machines would keep them weak and after a few years they would have empty mineshafts to hold their interest.” The monster checked the mirrors, his hands settled precisely at ten and two o’clock on the wheel. “My companies made offers to buy out everyone on the south slopes. Your brother and one other refused to sell, then the evening I set aside to visit your brother personally, I found him dead. A great shame; I should have been earlier to meet you.”
“Hold on.” Bea lifted strengthless hands, fingers quivering like dry branches on a windy day. Watching her own trembling was vaguely interesting. “They began harassing him when he turned down the first offer. To drive him out.”
“Did he have a habit of hiking, your Jared?” Testing the name. The monster sounded so fucking human, now, though the Ivy League accent was gone. He wasn’t the target she’d researched so thoroughly, a red dress’s beaded strings swaying as she sauntered into the party, everyone assuming she belonged because she made them think that, putting on a confident show.
And now look at her. “He went on walks,” she mumbled, and dropped her arms, hugging herself. Are we just not going to talk about the elevator? Maybe he’s already forgotten it.
Just like a man, but also a distinct relief. So much else was going on, she could ignore that incident. It would be fine shoved in a box and locked away. If she survived, she’d think about it then.
The monster glanced at her; thankfully, the red pinpricks in his pupils were gone. “Was he ever trapped underground on the mountain? Did he ever return late from a camping trip, dazed or incoherent?”
“He went on walks,” she repeated, stubbornly, but it bothered her. There had been that strangeness two weeks before her birthday, when nobody had been able to get hold of Jared from Thursday until late Monday morning. He’d missed a local library event plus a scheduled call with his agent Nanci, who had been worried enough to call Bea during midterms.
It’s probably nothing, he’s holed up out in the sticks playing Thoreau, but…
He’d been apologetic and distantly affectionate afterward, smoothing the waters, promising never to worry her or Nanci like that ever again. At the time Bea had just rolled her eyes and filed it under Instance of Jared being a weirdo, number infinity. Honestly, if he’d eventually turned into another backcountry Unabomber or something, she wouldn’t have been at all surprised.
Just after that he’d refused an offer from the mining conglomerate owned by Everly, then the really weird shit began.
The necklace was warm against her chest; the monster had tucked it neatly under the T-shirt. How in the hell did he have clothes that fit her?
Before she could ask, the monster piped up again, in a low, musing tone. “I would guess he was gone for a day or two. And he would not mention it afterward, though he gave you a very pretty thing. It speaks well of him that he did not keep the gem.”
You have got to be kidding me. “It’s antique. Bought it with some of the money from his first book.” Bea was foggily surprised at her own daring. Especially since she also pressed her knees together and a certain deep twinge reminded her of the here-and-now instead of years-ago. Could she tell herself the elevator thing was just a hallucination? “Because I was doing really well at school.”
And a peace offering, sort of. Sorry for taking up all the air in the room, Bebe.
“A greisoul jewel is a gift bearing thorns, Beatrice. Unless given with love, it consumes the recipient.” The monster settled in his seat, visibly relaxing. “When stolen from the warrens, it draws the greiben. They will not cease pursuit.”
A sharp, bright flare of anger filled Bea for a few welcome seconds, drained away into dragging, numb hopelessness. “You’re lying.”
“Why would I?” Either he was honestly baffled or a world-class actor pretending to be. “I spent that night hunting down their clan-heads, since they had taken improper prey. I drove them deep into their tunnels; no doubt that allowed your escape. They have been tracking you since, I should guess. And you thought…” A slight shake of his head, a strand of sandy hair falling over his forehead. He tossed it aside with a quick flicker of motion, a very human movement though just a little too catlike-graceful.
“You’re lying.” She was repeating herself a lot right now. How much could a person be expected to take? And he...in the elevator, he had...“Why did you do that?”
“These days, buyouts are more efficient than simply relocating settlements, or putting them to the sword. I thought to visit your brother and the other holdout, gain compliance, make it worth their while to move. Simple, easy. But the greiben enmeshed him that evening—your dog was a deterrent, though a minor one. The little excrescences are dangerous in packs, and in their hunting mist as well.” Another glance in her direction. “You must have sensed their pursuit. Is that why you disappeared from mortal authorities?”
“If I can find information on the internet, you can return the favor. Plus, you’re rich.” Why did she feel like she was being graded on her monster-stalking? “Money can dig people up, so I broke all the shovels I could.”
“All the shovels you could,” he echoed, quietly. “A good phrase, very apt. You are teaching me already.”
What the hell? “So you’re not going to kill me, just bite me and turn me into Lady Dracula? Is that the plan?” It wasn’t unexpected—after all, he was a monster—but if what he said was true…
He was still a bloodsucking fiend, but if he wasn’t in charge of the little green henchmen, she had fucked up bigtime.
Well, really, she was fucked either way. And in an elevator, too. Maybe that was all he wanted, and he’d ditch her out in the boonies, sockfeet and yoga pants notwithstanding.
Just as she began to entertain that fond hope, he had to go and crash it. “The plan is a short drive to a safer location, where I will tend to you.”
Is that some kind of euphemism? “Like, turn me into Elsa Lanchester, or what?” I don’t believe it. He was right on the footage—first Snowball running in circles and yelling like she did when there were bad things in the backyard and we’d find the marks in the morning. She heads into the stable, then Jared follows like he’s looking for something. And then, ten minutes later, the monster strolls in.
While Bea had been paying bills and smelling fresh-brewed coffee, losing track of time since a few moments’ worth of peace were hard to come by even while Jare was in his den finishing the goddamn second book.
She didn’t want to think about that. The footage was clear; nothing else had entered the building. The rest of the stable had been locked up tight.
