grab it.
As I looked at her I realized that what she had in that little bag was all she had in the world. I knew what that felt like. She was sitting there with a brave little grin and my heart went out to her.
“We'll go shopping tomorrow,” I promised her. “Get you some more clothes.”
She tugged on the hem of her T-shirt. “Yeah, this is kind of blah.”
Then, in case she was waiting for me to say something, I said, “Go on, I won't watch.”
I turned away to the little kitchenette. There were fresh glasses wrapped in plastic. I unwrapped two, filled them with cold water. I could hear her behind me, eating. I sipped water.
Along with my sympathy for her there grew an anger—no, a rage—that was as old to me as life. Someone made her into something rich and strange, something that I didn't understand and I wasn't sure that she understood. That same person left her at the mercy of a world that I knew from bitter experience was merciless.
“Do you want me to kill Dr. Klein?” I asked. It just popped out.
She didn't say anything, so I turned around, slowly. “I can still find her, probably.”
She looked over at me, seriously. Our eyes, or rather my eyes and her sunglasses, met for a long moment and she said, “No. It doesn't matter.”
I wanted to help her, wanted to make her feel better. Was that all I had to offer, death? Again that rage, at those who had made me a monster.
“I just—” I shrugged. “I just don't know what to do.” I turned away. I had nothing to offer Godiva except a place to rest. She'd said it herself, the dragon doesn't rescue the princess.
“James?” her voice was soft. I looked back at her.
“I'm sorry.”
“Sorry?” I stared at her, wondering, “Sorry for what?”
“I'm weak,” she looked down, seeming to curl into herself. “I can't do, I can't be . . . what you are.”
Tears waited heavy behind my eyes. “Being what I am,” I said softly, “isn't a good thing.”
“You saved me,” her voice was breathless, high, full of emotion.
“Only by accident,” I told her. “I was trying to save myself. You just got in the way. Collateral damage.”
She stood then, barefoot and unarmored, clad in a thin gray T-shirt that clung to her curves and a denim skirt and her hips slid towards me with each step and it was my turn to flinch, to run from what I wanted and what she was and her eyes behind mirrored lenses pinned me, saw me for what I was and I turned away.
“Wait,” she said and I stopped. I was helpless. Catskinner could have killed her in a heartbeat, and for a moment I envied his purity. In contrast, I was a mess. I couldn't do anything except watch as she came closer to me.
“What do you want?” I snapped at her.
“I just want to make you happy.” Her smile was bright and innocent and pure. Nothing that had anything to do with me.
“Why?” I asked. Before she could speak Catskinner answered me.
because she wants something from you. because she wants to use you.
I couldn't know that he was wrong and so I turned away again. I didn't look at her when she answered me.
“I want a world where everyone is happy. I want to live without fear that someone stronger than me will take what I have. I can't give everyone what they need—”
Her small, slim body pressed against mine. Her face was against my side, her voice muffled, but I could hear every word.
“I can give you what you need. Right now. Tonight.”
Hating myself was a habit. It scarcely even hurt anymore, it was more like scratching an itch, peeling away a scab on infected flesh. “And what do you need?”
A pause. She pulled back, looked up at my face. “Do you want the truth?”
“Yes.”
She pulled her sunglasses off. Her strange eyes, green in green, looked up at me. I met her gaze. I could learn to read the story in those eyes, given time.
“I need you,” she breathed. Coy and tempting, the voice of all that I had never had, all the women that I had
As I looked at her I realized that what she had in that little bag was all she had in the world. I knew what that felt like. She was sitting there with a brave little grin and my heart went out to her.
“We'll go shopping tomorrow,” I promised her. “Get you some more clothes.”
She tugged on the hem of her T-shirt. “Yeah, this is kind of blah.”
Then, in case she was waiting for me to say something, I said, “Go on, I won't watch.”
I turned away to the little kitchenette. There were fresh glasses wrapped in plastic. I unwrapped two, filled them with cold water. I could hear her behind me, eating. I sipped water.
Along with my sympathy for her there grew an anger—no, a rage—that was as old to me as life. Someone made her into something rich and strange, something that I didn't understand and I wasn't sure that she understood. That same person left her at the mercy of a world that I knew from bitter experience was merciless.
“Do you want me to kill Dr. Klein?” I asked. It just popped out.
She didn't say anything, so I turned around, slowly. “I can still find her, probably.”
She looked over at me, seriously. Our eyes, or rather my eyes and her sunglasses, met for a long moment and she said, “No. It doesn't matter.”
I wanted to help her, wanted to make her feel better. Was that all I had to offer, death? Again that rage, at those who had made me a monster.
“I just—” I shrugged. “I just don't know what to do.” I turned away. I had nothing to offer Godiva except a place to rest. She'd said it herself, the dragon doesn't rescue the princess.
“James?” her voice was soft. I looked back at her.
“I'm sorry.”
“Sorry?” I stared at her, wondering, “Sorry for what?”
“I'm weak,” she looked down, seeming to curl into herself. “I can't do, I can't be . . . what you are.”
Tears waited heavy behind my eyes. “Being what I am,” I said softly, “isn't a good thing.”
“You saved me,” her voice was breathless, high, full of emotion.
“Only by accident,” I told her. “I was trying to save myself. You just got in the way. Collateral damage.”
She stood then, barefoot and unarmored, clad in a thin gray T-shirt that clung to her curves and a denim skirt and her hips slid towards me with each step and it was my turn to flinch, to run from what I wanted and what she was and her eyes behind mirrored lenses pinned me, saw me for what I was and I turned away.
“Wait,” she said and I stopped. I was helpless. Catskinner could have killed her in a heartbeat, and for a moment I envied his purity. In contrast, I was a mess. I couldn't do anything except watch as she came closer to me.
“What do you want?” I snapped at her.
“I just want to make you happy.” Her smile was bright and innocent and pure. Nothing that had anything to do with me.
“Why?” I asked. Before she could speak Catskinner answered me.
because she wants something from you. because she wants to use you.
I couldn't know that he was wrong and so I turned away again. I didn't look at her when she answered me.
“I want a world where everyone is happy. I want to live without fear that someone stronger than me will take what I have. I can't give everyone what they need—”
Her small, slim body pressed against mine. Her face was against my side, her voice muffled, but I could hear every word.
“I can give you what you need. Right now. Tonight.”
Hating myself was a habit. It scarcely even hurt anymore, it was more like scratching an itch, peeling away a scab on infected flesh. “And what do you need?”
A pause. She pulled back, looked up at my face. “Do you want the truth?”
“Yes.”
She pulled her sunglasses off. Her strange eyes, green in green, looked up at me. I met her gaze. I could learn to read the story in those eyes, given time.
“I need you,” she breathed. Coy and tempting, the voice of all that I had never had, all the women that I had
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