This was it.
This was it.
The door to the shop chimed and she heard laughter. It took more strength than Eden knew she had to let go of the thing inside of her and shove it back down from whence it came. She shook uncontrollably as she relaxed her hold on Charlotte.
“Nothing happened. I brought clothes over. Paid for them. I told you to keep the change.”
“Nothing happened. You brought clothes over. Paid for them. You told me to keep the change.”
Eden let go just as a voice called behind. “Hey Charlotte, you OK?”
She turned to face the worried young guy and girl, who stood staring at Eden suspiciously. They were dressed in ragged t-shirts and jeans, their hair long and scruffy. Very clichéd thrift store shoppers.
“Of course,” Charlotte replied brightly. “How are you guys?”
“Good,” the guy replied, still eyeing Eden warily.
Eden gave him a blank look that seemed to make him uncomfortable. She turned to Charlotte and grabbed the paper bag of clothes she’d just bought. “Thanks.”
“Oh, you’re welcome, honey.”
In store, all Eden felt was fury that she had been interrupted, that she hadn’t been able to finish what would end this feeling inside her. She was feeling like a frickin’ schizophrenic and was sick of it.
But as soon as she hit the bus depot and was inside the ladies bathroom changing into her clothes, reality came crashing back in. She sagged against the tiled wall and closed her eyes, breathing in and out to control the wave of nausea that hit her. She’d done it again. She had nearly killed someone. She imagined someone finding Charlotte’s dead body, the Stephen King novel she had been reading discarded, never to be finished by her. All the small things in life that made it what it was and Eden had nearly taken that from someone. Horrified, she struggled to breathe. This time it had been close.
Too close.
You’re going to have to do it sometime, Eden. Or you’ll die.
“Then maybe I’ll die,” she said out loud. Like a crazy person.
The hunger laughed at her. Easy to have those kind of convictions when you’re alone with no human souls tempting you.
Ignoring the monster within, Eden finished up in the bathroom and bought a bus ticket to Detroit. It was all she could really afford and at least in the city she could hide.
The bus ride itself was not fun. It wasn’t packed with people, but she ended up curling up into a ball in the back of the bus, taking as few breaths as possible and holding her hands over her ears so she couldn’t hear the humans. So they couldn’t tempt her.
In an effort to control the need, she resorted to masochism, calling on the image of her brother’s death, using the grief to numb her to everything else.
***
It was not like she knew Detroit well. She’d been there shopping with Celine a few times but since Eden didn’t have any friends it wasn’t like she’d had the chance to head into the city with a group of kids and hang out. She had been once with Stellan when he was checking out the University of Detroit. They had taken a walk up E Jefferson Avenue and then took a right to Rivertown, the Warehouse District. They had had lunch at pretty cool café. It had been a good day. Just the two of them hanging out.
The bus had dropped her off near Wayne Community College but she knew that was near Detroit University so she marched towards the University main campus and tried to retrace her steps. The Warehouse District was busier than she remembered, so Eden huddled into her raincoat and ducked her head, trying not to look at anybody or feel the blissful pull of their souls. Instead she kept walking towards the riverside. The wind had been blowing this crisp clean smell of the river over her but that soon began to fade to this metallic, industrial smell the further she walked. As an elderly woman, who smelled of lemons and molasses, passed her, Eden froze at the warm feel of her soul. Deciding it best to tune out her senses, Eden breathed through her mouth and continued on. She gazed around at her. None of this would work. It was too…nice. So she kept walking. She walked for a while, not knowing where she was really. But finally she found it. It stood alone on its block.
The building was perfect. An old red brick abandoned warehouse with broken windows and faded lettering along the top. She could just make out the word Trading.
Breaking in was easy. She snapped the padlock across the double doors near the back and pushed the solid iron door open. Her ears picked up the skittering of rats, as her foots echoed around the shell of a warehouse. Shattered glass, naked steel and waste decorated what was left of the place. It stank of rust and foul garbage… and old smoke. She wandered around it, staring up into the high rafters. There were holes. She’d have to watch when it rained. To her surprise she found a damp and worn sofa tucked behind one of the pillars. There was beer cans and cigarette stubs littered around it. She guessed someone had been using this place as a hangout before it had been locked up.
Eden heaved a sigh and sank down into the sofa, looking around.
It would do.
Chapter Twenty One. Rebel with a Cause
Eden had been gone a few days now.
Noah stared blankly at the television, watching the images flicker and muted mouths talk to him and to each other.
“Why is the sound off?”
He twisted his neck around at the sound of his mother’s voice, watching Emma wander into the sitting room. They were still in the rented house in Denton. It wasn’t nearly as nice as Cyrus’ home in Weston, Boston. But it was surely closer to wherever Eden was hiding. Hopefully. “I have a headache.”
His mother smirked and flopped down beside him. “We don’t get headaches.”
“Well I’m discovering new things about the Ankh every day. Like, who knew compulsion worked on us?”
That was mean. He felt a pang of guilt as Emma’s features tightened at the reminder of what Eden had done to her.
“Mom, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up.”
“No, you shouldn’t. Ever again,” she warned him, her blue eyes flashing. “Cyrus and Valeria told you to shut up about that, OK. If the Neith find out there is a soul eater out there who can compel Ankh, then Eden’s even more of a target. Do you want that?”
He shook his head slowly, feeling contrite as any normal seventeen year old son might. “Sorry. Where are Cyrus and Val anyway?”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Noah, I’ve told you not to call her that. The woman is a two thousand year old warrior, for goodness sake, not some waitress at Denny’s.”
Noah grinned, crossing his arms over his chest as he snuggled deeper into the sofa. He thought of the tall, leggy brunette and that grin grew a little lascivious. “Hey, she just looks like a hot thirty year old to me.”
His mother snorted and shook her head. “She’d eat you alive, child.”
“True. But I might enjoy it.”
“Oh.” Emma grimaced and swatted at his head. “Don’t talk to your mother like that.”
Noah flashed her another wicked smile, glad she no longer had that guilty look on her face. She felt responsible for Eden escaping, shocked that the girl had managed to compel her. The compulsion itself had freaked her out because she said she’d known what was happening to her but couldn’t do anything about it. She had felt violated and yet at the same time she had felt some kind of connection with Eden. The depth of Eden’s despair had wrenched at Emma. His mother had never been able to turn away from the damaged and broken. She was a fixer. Despite Eden attacking her, Emma wanted the girl to get help even more now.