“Gross,” she muttered as she pulled off her jeans. “These could stand up on their own at this point.”
Finished, she turned on the shower and let it run. Then she lit a vanilla-scented candle. While the water heated, she sat down on the toilet. Steam filled the bathroom, coating her body and opening her pores. Maria sighed. She already felt better and she hadn’t even cleaned up yet. She got up from the toilet, remembering not to flush because when she did while the shower was running, the water’s temperature became scalding. Then she pulled back the shower curtain and slipped beneath the spray. The hot water drummed against her scalp, soaking her hair and running down her back and breasts. It felt luxurious. She stood there for several minutes, just enjoying the sensation. She whistled and hummed. Then she grabbed her loofa and some vanilla bean body wash, and scrubbed, lathering herself in bubbles. Her stomach rumbled again as she rinsed.
Reluctantly, Maria turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. She dried off quickly, wrapped her hair in a towel, and brushed her teeth. Then she got dressed. She chose a sweatshirt and jeans, and pulled her still-damp hair into a ponytail. She put on a ball cap, and then looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Maria liked what she saw. She was a new woman.
Except for the dark circles under her eyes.
“New woman, hell. I look like shit.”
She opened the bedroom door and walked out into the kitchenette, catching Adam and Levi in midconversation. Both were seated at her tiny table. Adam was polishing off what she assumed was his second plate of bacon and eggs, along with fried potatoes. A half-empty glass of water and a cup of coffee sat in front of him.
“So, anyway,” he said around a mouthful of potatoes, “those were the only three I had published. Cold As Ice, Heart of the Matter and When the Rain Comes. I started a book about the Civil War. It was supposed to be my big literary breakthrough novel. Was going to get me out of the midlist genre ghetto. Make me some real money. But I never got the chance to finish it. I guess I sort of lost my stomach for it, after…”
His voice trailed off. A shadow passed over his face.
Sensing his impending mood change, Levi tried to change the subject.
“Did they let you write in the hospital? Surely, they wouldn’t let a man of such God-given talents squander his abilities.”
Adam’s laugh was short and humorless. “Sure. They encouraged it, in fact. But they wanted me to write about what had happened, and I’d had enough of that. Everything an author writes is to some extent autobiographical. Our joys and fears, good times and bad, the people we meet in life—all of that is fodder for the muse. Especially the bad stuff. It’s like you cut open a vein and bleed out onto the page. But writing about Tara and Hylinus and the babies and Big Steve and all the rest? That wouldn’t have been bleeding for my work. It would have been a fucking hemorrhage.”
“So you didn’t write?” Levi kept his voice calm and level.
“Oh, I wrote.” Adam devoured another slice of bacon. “What little I could, with crayons and paper. But I didn’t let them see it. No way. I couldn’t. If I had, they would have made it worse on me.”
“Why? What did you write about?”
Adam leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I started a new novel. I called it, Darkest of Dark. It was all about this thing we’re fighting—He Who Shall Not Be Named.”
Levi flinched, taken aback. His hands gripped the table. His knuckles were white. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.
“But how—”
“How did I know? Coincidence. I read those books. Read LeHorn’s journal. That’s all.”
“Adam,” Levi said, “tell me the truth.”
“Okay, you caught me. I wrote about it because Tara came to me in my dreams. She told me a living darkness was coming. It would sweep across the land, consuming everything in its path. A darkness that was darker than dark. Something that could not be named. But we know what the name is, don’t we, Levi? Its name is No—”
“Stop! Don’t finish that sentence. Don’t speak it out loud!”
“I’m not afraid of it!” Adam yelled, instantly changing from conversational to combative. “Not Hylinus. Not God. Not Nod—”
“Hey,” Maria interrupted, making her presence known. She sensed the tension in the air, saw which direction the conversation was heading again. Mindful of Levi’s warnings to keep Adam happy and calm, she tried to distract him. “I hope you saved some for me, Adam.”
His demeanor changed again. Smiling, he nodded, sweeping his hand above the table.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Check it out. Levi’s not too bad of a cook. He even chopped up some onions and fried them in with the potatoes.”
“I would have added peppers,” Levi said, “but I couldn’t find any.”
“I’m surprised you found what you did,” Maria said, sitting down. “I’ll have to check my fridge more often. I didn’t know all of this was in there.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Some more of your magic, Levi? Don’t tell me you conjured all this up. I’m willing to believe a lot, but that’s stretching it.”
“No magic,” he said, setting her plate down in front of her. “While the two of you were still sleeping, I walked to the store. That was where I couldn’t find the peppers.”
Maria tried a forkful of eggs. Her eyes closed and she moaned with delight.
“These are delicious.”
“I’m glad you like them. Not to rush you, but as soon as the two of you are finished, we should leave.”
“So, did you get any sleep at all?”
Levi nodded. “Enough for what needs to be done. I rested. Studied. Prepared.”
Adam pushed back from the table. “Man, that coffee tastes good. We had real weak stuff at White Rose. But I’m not used to this strong stuff. Runs right through me. May I use your bathroom before we leave?”
“Sure.” Maria pointed him toward it. “Why don’t you shower and change while you’re at it? I’m sure you want to get rid of that gown and pants.”
“Good idea. That okay with you, Levi?”
“Yes. Just please be quick.”
“Thanks.”
When she heard the bathroom door shut, and was sure he couldn’t hear them, Maria leaned close to Levi.
“You know he’s bat-shit crazy, don’t you?”
“Oh, he’s certainly disturbed. Unbalanced.”
Maria smirked. “That’s putting it mildly. He changes emotions like some women I know change clothes.”
“He’s mentally ill. But regardless, he’s telling the truth about what happened the night of the fire. About the satyr and the rest.”
“Doesn’t matter if he is—he’s still nuts.”
“Yes,” Levi sighed. “He is. The strain of what he’s been through was too much, I suppose. I’ve heard the expression ‘the mind snapped’ before, but I never really saw it in action until today.”
“So what are we still doing with him? We’ve got the book and the pages. Why keep him around? Why not just cut him loose before he freaks out on us again? The longer he’s with us, the better our chances of getting caught.”
“We can’t just let him go,” Levi explained. “He’s like a child in some ways. And those mood swings. He could hurt someone—or himself.”
“Then we make an anonymous tip. Drop him back off at the hospital.”
“And what happens when he tells them it was us who helped him escape?”
“What? That we burned a hole in time and space and broke him out? They’ll increase his medication and think nothing more about it.”
“Maria.” Levi sighed. “The truth is, we can’t let him go yet. We still need him.”
“For what?”
“I can’t say. The less you know, the better.”
“Why? Is it something bad?”
“God forbid you get engulfed by the entity. As soon as it leeches onto you, it not only drains your energy—it also siphons your thoughts. I can’t risk it learning of our plans before I have a chance to defeat it.”