prize….”
“Nash isn’t—” but before I could finish insisting that my boyfriend wasn’t a prize to be won, a fierce, low rumblingrolled over the room, raising hair all over my body. I turned to find Sabine’s dog—Styx’s littermate—growling at me from the kitchen doorway, his tiny body tensed and ready to attack. Nothing that small and fluffy should have been able to make such a threatening sound, but thanks to their Nether-hound father, the entire litter sported teeth that could easily shred flesh and jaws that could snap most human long bones.
“What’s his name again?” I asked, careful not to make any threatening moves until Sabine had called the little monster off.
“Cujo.”
Of course it was Cujo. “Any clue why Cujo looks like he wants to chew my face off?”
“Probably because he wants to chew your face off.”
“Funny. Could you call him off?”
Her satisfied grin grated my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “Only because I’m curious. Why the hell should I do you a favor, when you consistently deny me the one thing I want?” She snapped her fingers and Cujo followed her into a tiny galley-style kitchen, where she pulled a package of raw hamburger from the fridge and dropped it on the floor with out even pulling back the plastic. Cujo dug in like he’d never seen meat before, though he looked pretty well fed to me.
I stood at one end of the kitchen, trying to decide if I should sit at the table or wait to be invited. Which probably wasn’t gonna happen. “Because…” I hesitated, trying to make up my mind while she dug a can of generic soda from the snot-green fridge. Then I sucked in a deep breath and spit it out. “Because I’m going to be dead in five days, and whether I like it or not, you’re the one Nash is going to turn to when he’s half out of his mind with grief. Which means I’m practically doing you a favor.” If my death would benefit anyone, itwould be Sabine. “That means you owe me. And considering the timetable I’m on, I’m gonna need payment up front.”
Sabine popped the tab on her can and stared at me. “You’re dying? For real?”
“Not till Thursday.” At first, the thought had made me sick to my stomach every single time it crossed my conscious mind. But after contemplating my own untimely demise roughly four thousand times, the original terror and denial had given way to a hollow, distant acceptance. Thinking about my own death now had about the same effect on me as thinking about the eventual incineration of planet Earth, as it’s consumed by its own sun.
“You’re lying.” Sabine laughed like her life was a joke and I was the punch line. Then she drained half her can and brushed past me into the living room.
I followed her and perched on the edge of the ugliest, most ancient brown recliner I’d ever seen. “Why would I lie?”
She shrugged and set her can on the milk crate serving as an end table. “Habit? You’re not exactly a pillar of truth.”
I wanted to argue, but I couldn’t without proving her point. But to my credit, my lies were really more half truths, and they were always intended to help someone. Whereas Sabine’s compulsive truths were usually intended to hurt someone else or to entertain her.
“I’m not lying.” Another deep breath, and I nearly gagged on the acrid stench of stale cigarette smoke. Which I then spat out, along with an offer I really didn’t want to make. “Read me.”
Sabine sat up straight, her black eyes suddenly bright with interest. “Seriously?”
No . I shuddered, then swallowed my own bitter fear. “If that’s what it takes for you to believe me.”
She shrugged. “The offer itself was enough to make mebelieve you. But you can’t take it back now.” She crossed the small room in an instant, and my jaw clenched involuntarily when she dropped onto her knees in front of me. “You know I have to touch you, right? The stronger the contact, the better the
“Nash isn’t—” but before I could finish insisting that my boyfriend wasn’t a prize to be won, a fierce, low rumblingrolled over the room, raising hair all over my body. I turned to find Sabine’s dog—Styx’s littermate—growling at me from the kitchen doorway, his tiny body tensed and ready to attack. Nothing that small and fluffy should have been able to make such a threatening sound, but thanks to their Nether-hound father, the entire litter sported teeth that could easily shred flesh and jaws that could snap most human long bones.
“What’s his name again?” I asked, careful not to make any threatening moves until Sabine had called the little monster off.
“Cujo.”
Of course it was Cujo. “Any clue why Cujo looks like he wants to chew my face off?”
“Probably because he wants to chew your face off.”
“Funny. Could you call him off?”
Her satisfied grin grated my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “Only because I’m curious. Why the hell should I do you a favor, when you consistently deny me the one thing I want?” She snapped her fingers and Cujo followed her into a tiny galley-style kitchen, where she pulled a package of raw hamburger from the fridge and dropped it on the floor with out even pulling back the plastic. Cujo dug in like he’d never seen meat before, though he looked pretty well fed to me.
I stood at one end of the kitchen, trying to decide if I should sit at the table or wait to be invited. Which probably wasn’t gonna happen. “Because…” I hesitated, trying to make up my mind while she dug a can of generic soda from the snot-green fridge. Then I sucked in a deep breath and spit it out. “Because I’m going to be dead in five days, and whether I like it or not, you’re the one Nash is going to turn to when he’s half out of his mind with grief. Which means I’m practically doing you a favor.” If my death would benefit anyone, itwould be Sabine. “That means you owe me. And considering the timetable I’m on, I’m gonna need payment up front.”
Sabine popped the tab on her can and stared at me. “You’re dying? For real?”
“Not till Thursday.” At first, the thought had made me sick to my stomach every single time it crossed my conscious mind. But after contemplating my own untimely demise roughly four thousand times, the original terror and denial had given way to a hollow, distant acceptance. Thinking about my own death now had about the same effect on me as thinking about the eventual incineration of planet Earth, as it’s consumed by its own sun.
“You’re lying.” Sabine laughed like her life was a joke and I was the punch line. Then she drained half her can and brushed past me into the living room.
I followed her and perched on the edge of the ugliest, most ancient brown recliner I’d ever seen. “Why would I lie?”
She shrugged and set her can on the milk crate serving as an end table. “Habit? You’re not exactly a pillar of truth.”
I wanted to argue, but I couldn’t without proving her point. But to my credit, my lies were really more half truths, and they were always intended to help someone. Whereas Sabine’s compulsive truths were usually intended to hurt someone else or to entertain her.
“I’m not lying.” Another deep breath, and I nearly gagged on the acrid stench of stale cigarette smoke. Which I then spat out, along with an offer I really didn’t want to make. “Read me.”
Sabine sat up straight, her black eyes suddenly bright with interest. “Seriously?”
No . I shuddered, then swallowed my own bitter fear. “If that’s what it takes for you to believe me.”
She shrugged. “The offer itself was enough to make mebelieve you. But you can’t take it back now.” She crossed the small room in an instant, and my jaw clenched involuntarily when she dropped onto her knees in front of me. “You know I have to touch you, right? The stronger the contact, the better the
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