“City cleansing?”At least she didn’t askwhatboys?with an eyebrow-quirk.That would have been embarrassing, and Erik had enough on his mind already.
“Suffice to say the Mad God is one of the largest—if not the supreme—predator in the ecosystem of the real, half-real, and dream.”Now Ignatius was back on firmer ground; lecturing was a Father’s native state.“Other things prey upon humanity, or intersect with us.The Sons are somewhat of a… police force, if you will.”
“Monster hunters.”She was doing a lot of nervous glancing at Erik.Did she think he was going to flip the table or something?Naturally her unease would fasten on him.He was a safe target for reaction, whatever it was going to be.“Right?”
A direct question, and she was staring at him, eyebrows up and her lips slightly parted.
Erik had to answer.“Right.”
“Okay.All right.”Another little shake of her head, trying to get all the ideas to settle.“So, you’re going to teach me to hunt monsters?I’m gonna have a funny mark too?”
“Good heavens, no.”Ignatius managed to look shocked but not quite disapproving.He wouldn’t dare criticize a Dreamer, though more than once he waxed irritated with Control’s orders.They have no idea what the front lines are like, my boys.“There is no corruption in you, Miss Stellack.Suffice to say you are a source of power, and we are amplifiers.You make our work exponentially easier and more effective.”
It didn’t seem possible for her to shrink even further into the chair, but she somehow managed.“Like a battery?”
“Like an electric guitar,” Jake piped up.“You sing a song, we turn up the volume to eleven, monsters gopoof.”
“Great.”Liv freed a hand long enough to rub at her temple.“This is all really interesting, guys, but I think I want some time to process.Alone.”Her gaze darted to Erik again, as if asking permission, but he was already rising.So was Father; a moment later Jake caught the telegram and hurriedly straightened, blinking, holding his mug cautiously.
“Of course.”Ignatius performed a very correct little half-bow.“Shall we bring you some lunch?”
“I’m okay.I, um…” She was still looking at Erik, who tried to hunch, as small and nonthreatening as possible.It wasn’t going to work; he was built to much heavier specifications than Jake, but still… he wanted to try.“Look, can you stay for a second?Just you.”
“Of course,” he mumbled, set his mug down on the heavy antique table, pushing his chair in and settling at parade rest.Jake followed Father out, casting a single indecipherable glance over his shoulder.
“I don’t mean to be rude,” their potential said, in a breathless rush.Her knuckles paled again; if she had a Son’s strength, she might shatter heavy ceramic just by clutching.“I just—can I ask you for something?”
“Of course,” he repeated.She was probably going to tell him she hated him and never wanted to see his face again.Her anger had to fasten somewhere, a perfectly normal reaction to getting a peek under the skin of the waking world.
“The socks.On my bed.”Her throat moved as she swallowed, and the pulse there was a hummingbird’s wings.“Can you… I don’t want them there.”Half shamefaced, half determined, she searched his expression, her dark-blue eyes very wide.
Is that all?“I’ll take care of it.Right now, if you want.”Was the a test of his willingness, or was she fixating on socks to get her through the interaction?
It didn’t matter.The important thing was that she’d made a request he could answer.A good way to build trust, and—oh, hell, he wanted to help her.
He longed to get that breathless, terrified look off her face.
“Please?”After all that, she was still polite.She watched him, but for the first time, not like he was a danger to be kept in view.
That didn’t matter either.If it made her happy, or even took a little of that devouring, paralyzing fear away, he’d break down the whole bed and cart it out piece by piece.He’d even do it with a smile and a whistle.“You don’t even have to ask,” he said.“Just tell me,lirai, and it’s done.”
Lesser Evil
After the old guy—Ignatius—broughther a half-ream of unlined paper and a collection of pens, there was only the sound of sleet hitting the window and her own breathing as well as the small creaks and crackles of an old structure settling on its bones as the weather changed.
The loose sheets were heavy, cream-colored, and obviously expensive; the pens were a fresh package of high-end black gel numbers.She’d have loved them for work, especially if they came in different colors.
Color coding would have helped immensely.Legal research was easier when you could glance at a page and see different concepts highlighted.Liv tried to think of this as a deposition, or a case needing to be built.
If all this bullshit was a kidnapping or some kind of con job, it was so intricate and seamless she couldn’t find a way out.If it was a hallucination, likewise.Was it reality if you couldn’t find a hole in the illusion?
The problem was, there were plenty of cracks in the situation.She just didn’t like what was grinning at her through them—something old, rancid, and terrifying even if it was completely unbelievable.
But she’dseenthe monsters, and not while sleeping.No, they appeared in Technicolor-vivid 4K while conscious—or at least during what was passing for awake at the moment.
First things first.Get systematic.She drew a long line down the center of one sheet, but she couldn’t quite figure out what to label either side.Lies and truth?Well, they could be lying to her about a whole lot.
On the other hand, she had never told anyone about the red-branded door in the dream.Not a therapist, not Gramma, not even Mom.
