so faded they were colorless, with stuffing hanging out here and there.
I tried to speak but all that came out was a cough, making me nearly pass out again from the pain in my head.
“Whoa, ta- take it easy, man,” a voice said.
The words echoed around my head, but once I saw Willy they made sense. He walked out of the living room and returned with something resembling water. I wasn’t in a position to be picky so I drank a few gulps. It tasted terrible, but the liquid was a relief to my cracked throat.
“What happened?” I asked.
Willy smiled, but it looked like it caused him pain. His face was cut up and one eye was still swollen shut. “That was a hell of a bea- beating you took for me. Nobody’s ever stood up for me before,” he said.
“Yeah well, I’ve never stood up for an Underworlder before, so I guess it was a first for both of us.” After another drink of the water, the hoarseness of my voice started to fade.
“Here,” he said, reaching into one of the pails. He produced a cloth that had blotches of brownish red on it and handed it to me.
I took it, but I wasn’t sure where to put it first. My whole body hurt and I didn’t know what was cut, bruised, or broken. All I knew was pain. I settled for putting it above my eye, since thanks to Brock’s thumb I knew about the cut there.
“Where are we?”
“This is my apartment. I know it’s not much but it’s the only safe place I could think of.”
“Mine doesn’t look much different.”
A loud buzzing sounded through the room and more pain sheared through my head. Willy jumped up from the coffee table, moved to the wall and pushed one of the buttons on an old box that barely hung there.
“Hello?” Willy said.
A deep voice crackled over the speaker. I thought the guy said his name but I couldn’t understand it. Willy pushed another button and went to the kitchen.
“Don’t worry, it’s somebody we can trust,” he called.
The knock at the door came and Willy came back into the living room, followed by a giant beast of a…woman?
She looked a century old. Long white hair came down to the middle of her back and her face was aged with an impossible number of wrinkles. A white knitted sweater and green dress pants covered her frame. Her skin was pale gray, which made the blue of her eyes seem unusually bright.
Without saying anything, she reached into an enormous gray purse and took out a pack of cigarettes. She enjoyed a few puffs of one before she spoke, and her voice sounded like it belonged to a man with a crushed larynx. I’d bet she’d smoked two packs a day for each of the hundred years she looked.
“So you called me here, boy. What do you want?”
I stayed silent and averted my eyes. She stared at me when she spoke and it made me nervous. I killed some pretty nasty demons regularly, but this old lady was scaring me.
To my relief, Willy answered her. “I t- told you, I nee- need some help.”
She snorted and took a drag of her cigarette. The look she gave me sent a shudder down my spine as smoke curled out of her nostrils. “He’s a hunter. I’m not helping him ,” she said. She made the last word sound like something disgusting; Rayna had the same talent. So far, my batting average with new people wasn’t getting any better.
“I know he’s a hunter, Grams, but he saved me from the other hunters.”
They went a few minutes without speaking, but from the way they stared at each other I started to think they were having a silent conversation.
“Fine,” she said, taking a final puff of the cigarette before she dropped it in one of the buckets of bloody water. “Clean this up,” she demanded.
Willy didn’t question her and cleaned off the coffee table in a rush. Grams put her gray purse on the table and opened it. She fiddled with a few small bottles and set them out on the table. Next came some different stones, including quartz, amethyst, and tiger’s eye, then jasmine, garlic, and some herbs I didn’t
I tried to speak but all that came out was a cough, making me nearly pass out again from the pain in my head.
“Whoa, ta- take it easy, man,” a voice said.
The words echoed around my head, but once I saw Willy they made sense. He walked out of the living room and returned with something resembling water. I wasn’t in a position to be picky so I drank a few gulps. It tasted terrible, but the liquid was a relief to my cracked throat.
“What happened?” I asked.
Willy smiled, but it looked like it caused him pain. His face was cut up and one eye was still swollen shut. “That was a hell of a bea- beating you took for me. Nobody’s ever stood up for me before,” he said.
“Yeah well, I’ve never stood up for an Underworlder before, so I guess it was a first for both of us.” After another drink of the water, the hoarseness of my voice started to fade.
“Here,” he said, reaching into one of the pails. He produced a cloth that had blotches of brownish red on it and handed it to me.
I took it, but I wasn’t sure where to put it first. My whole body hurt and I didn’t know what was cut, bruised, or broken. All I knew was pain. I settled for putting it above my eye, since thanks to Brock’s thumb I knew about the cut there.
“Where are we?”
“This is my apartment. I know it’s not much but it’s the only safe place I could think of.”
“Mine doesn’t look much different.”
A loud buzzing sounded through the room and more pain sheared through my head. Willy jumped up from the coffee table, moved to the wall and pushed one of the buttons on an old box that barely hung there.
“Hello?” Willy said.
A deep voice crackled over the speaker. I thought the guy said his name but I couldn’t understand it. Willy pushed another button and went to the kitchen.
“Don’t worry, it’s somebody we can trust,” he called.
The knock at the door came and Willy came back into the living room, followed by a giant beast of a…woman?
She looked a century old. Long white hair came down to the middle of her back and her face was aged with an impossible number of wrinkles. A white knitted sweater and green dress pants covered her frame. Her skin was pale gray, which made the blue of her eyes seem unusually bright.
Without saying anything, she reached into an enormous gray purse and took out a pack of cigarettes. She enjoyed a few puffs of one before she spoke, and her voice sounded like it belonged to a man with a crushed larynx. I’d bet she’d smoked two packs a day for each of the hundred years she looked.
“So you called me here, boy. What do you want?”
I stayed silent and averted my eyes. She stared at me when she spoke and it made me nervous. I killed some pretty nasty demons regularly, but this old lady was scaring me.
To my relief, Willy answered her. “I t- told you, I nee- need some help.”
She snorted and took a drag of her cigarette. The look she gave me sent a shudder down my spine as smoke curled out of her nostrils. “He’s a hunter. I’m not helping him ,” she said. She made the last word sound like something disgusting; Rayna had the same talent. So far, my batting average with new people wasn’t getting any better.
“I know he’s a hunter, Grams, but he saved me from the other hunters.”
They went a few minutes without speaking, but from the way they stared at each other I started to think they were having a silent conversation.
“Fine,” she said, taking a final puff of the cigarette before she dropped it in one of the buckets of bloody water. “Clean this up,” she demanded.
Willy didn’t question her and cleaned off the coffee table in a rush. Grams put her gray purse on the table and opened it. She fiddled with a few small bottles and set them out on the table. Next came some different stones, including quartz, amethyst, and tiger’s eye, then jasmine, garlic, and some herbs I didn’t
Similar Books
