My Evil Eye, page 9
“How about in a few days. I’d ask for Saturday, but I’m helping my roommate move something in Orlando. I was thinking Sunday? You don’t work in the library on the weekend, right?”
“Sometimes I do, particularly during finals, but they’re over. Aren’t you going home for the summer?”
“No. I’m rooming with a friend. I’m actually about a block from here. We’re renting a house and I’m staying on campus. I’m taking a couple summer classes too.”
“So we’re neighbors?”
“Yeah.” He chuckles.
I stare into his eyes. I can’t determine the color, but I can see the contour. And because I can’t see the color, I know I’m safe for him. It’s my gold or, good heavens, green eyes that drop men into a trance. And then I realize that, although we’re not kissing, he’s still holding my hand and rubbing the fingers of my left hand (luckily not my cut-up right one).
He looks to the side for a moment. Then he says, “How about a movie? You like movies, Gorgi?”
“I love movies.”
“I’ll pick you up at six on Sunday. We’ll catch whatever you want. Okay?”
I nod.
Then he’s gone.
I’m holding his gift in my bloody hand. I walk to the only light working in my home—the light in the bathroom—and I gaze at the shiny thing. I take some wet tissue paper and clean off my blood. There’s not too much. My hand is already healing. The polished silver of God’s cross shines over my cut-up palm. Then I look at myself in the mirror. Frankenstein wouldn’t be scared now. I look like a normal human girl. Don’t I? A very beautiful girl, right, Medusa? But my hair’s a mess. I hold the cross to my chest. I shall cherish this forever. See, it’s one of the rarest of rare things in my miserable life when I receive a relic. It doesn’t matter what it is. It doesn’t matter how much it’s worth. They’re priceless. And I always recognize them the moment they’re handed to me. And best of all, this relic is silver. Metal and jewelry usually survive fires, you know.
11
THE GUARDIAN
I can’t sleep. I keep thinking of Ash. Sorry. You didn’t know that the famed terrible, fearsome Medusa is a romantic, did you? Well, I know a good man when I see one. I’ve been around. But the problem is that when I get hooked, I really get hooked. I like fall in complete, stupid love, and the crush overwhelms me. I like Asher. I really do. That’s why I got up early in the afternoon and acted weird, like a normal girl, applying makeup and trying on a dozen or so blouses and pants to see what he’d like to see me in. Something not too fancy but not too boring. Pretty, but not too pretty. How do I entice a man but keep everybody else’s eyes off me? Sounds pompous, I know—but, look, I’m Medusa. Sexy but not slutty. Well, I don’t want this boy in bed. I want him in my arms. Or holding me while watching a midnight movie with a bag of popcorn. You know, love. And he’s a good enough man to give me that. I just know it.
Isn’t he? Remember his smile. His perfect white teeth and that extra wave of golden blond hair.
I’m applying a different stick of lipstick and humming. I’m in such a good mood. Doesn’t life work in funny ways? My life was almost over and now this. It’s so rare that I meet a man that doesn’t run away thinking I’m a freak. Because I am.
This lipstick is black. See? No, that’s too weird, isn’t it, Medusa? I’ll give him red. That’s sexy.
Giggles.
Maybe I’ll even risk perfume. It will be dark in the movie theater. Right?
No! Medusa. You crazy?
Fine.
I’m carrying his silver cross in my pants pocket. When I fix the fireplace mantle, I’ll put it up there. For now, I like running my fingers over the cold, sharp metal. I take it out and lay it on the sink to look at as I continue to make myself pretty.
I look down at my black blouse. It has lace around the arms. I brush back my hair, and a stray snake waves by my forehead.
“Now you behave, little wiggly,” I say, pointing at my hair. “Behave. I really like this guy. Don’t scare him.”
I tuck it back in my curls and giggle. Am I grossing you out? Nah, I already enchanted you a long time ago.
The shirt looks hot and sexy. Too hot and sexy. That and, after a spritz of perfume... I want him to feel the way I felt when he handed me my new relic.
I open a perfume bottle. It smells real bad. Oh well, forget perfume. And, hmm, this shirt looks a bit too vampiress-esque.
“Ugh!” I pull off another blouse in a huff and walk back to my dresser. I have to find something better.
I grab a navy-blue blouse from my dresser. It will go well with my long black hair. Of course, just in case, the hair will have to be tied in a bun for my little wigglies. Or perhaps a ponytail? I suppose I can wear my bushy grandma sweater over any shirt I wear. And then I’m thinking, why does it matter what I wear under the sweater? He’s not going to see it. Unless it gets hot in the movie theater. It could? No, it never gets hot in movie theaters. They seem to run air-conditioning even during the winter. Hot in movie theaters—wait, what were you thinking?
Giggles.
He takes me in his yellow jalopy. He tells me he loves the truck because he can fit his surfboard in the back. He asked me if I surf. Uh… Yeah. Right. Actually, I have, sort of, before it was called “surfing.” But no. No, I haven’t.
The movie theater is not too crowded. Even though Sundale is a beach town, the theater is practically inside the university, and everybody’s heading out for the summer. Fewer people helps me relax.
“You want popcorn, Gorgi?”
Of course I do.
Before I know it, I’m sitting beside him in the front and center of the theater. We have an aisle all to ourselves. The movie I chose is titled Magnus. It’s a total guy film that I know he’s going to love, because it’s got lots of sword fighting and killing. It’s about the emperor Charlemagne. But it also has a love story about his wife. The thing is, I knew Charles the Great. He was a total womanizer. Of course he even courted me for a while until I showed him my wigglies. I mean, he had ten wives! I’ve had more husbands than that, but not during the same decade!
Ash is already into the movie. He’s leaning forward. I can tell it’s going to be good. It started right off the bat with fire and dueling.
Let me tell you something funny. You know the last time I saw a vampire movie in a movie theater? It was Francis Ford Coppola’s Dracula. Well, there’s this memorable scene in the movie where Dracula is watching Superman fly off into the sunset on a movie screen. It’s touching to Dracula because he can’t go outside in daytime. It’s a real short clip, but that scene meant the world to me. And guess what I did? Yep, I bawled my eyes out. I cried and cried during that scene like a baby because I can’t go outside in daytime either —just like good ole Dracula. So there I was laughing and crying at the irony, and the whole theater thought I was a complete loon. You get all the twisted connections in my head? They’re not just snakes. I lost complete control of myself in the dark theater laugh-crying. Movies can really touch you in weird ways like that. I have to make sure I don’t do something stupid like that tonight.
Ash slowly takes my hand. I love that. Meanwhile his other hand keeps rummaging through the popcorn box. He moved real slowly to touch me, which is cute as hell. I run my fingers along his to tell him I like it. The cuts from my temper tantrum that night have, of course, completely disappeared.
He reaches over and whispers, “Liking it so far, Gorgi?”
“Aha,” I reply.
Who cares? But I nod and lean over to whisper, “Yeah,” and I peck him on the cheek. He squeezes my hand more tightly.
The first girl comes on the screen. She’s wearing this heavy draping violet dress that looks totally uncomfortable and impossible to walk in. It’s about twenty minutes into the movie. I laugh. Oops. I don’t know what the hell she’s wearing, but it ain’t ninth century, I can tell you that. I think it’s stuff like this that makes me enjoy Persephone’s company so much.
Ash looks over but then turns back to the screen. He’s still holding my hand. It’s getting a little sweaty. I totally love that too.
That’s when I feel my wigglies get jumpy. And it’s not from my attraction to Ash. The snakes on my head are still caged in my bun, but they’re getting pissed off over something. Danger? Beyond the scent of buttered popcorn, do you smell it? Yep, I smell it too.
Four guys wearing dark suits walk down the aisle to my left. They go close to the screen and just stand there. But the weirdest thing isn’t their pitch-black suits. It’s their glasses. They’re wearing sunglasses in the dark. And they’re staring right in our direction. I’m trying to enjoy this epic movie, and they’re staring at us. They could be part of Project Orcus, or they could be Imada. I don’t know. All I know is that their shades are obviously to protect them from my glare.
I let go of my now-wet palm and lean over to Ash. “I have to use the girls’ room. I’ll be right back.”
He nods.
I walk up the aisle and feel their footsteps behind me. My incisors are tingling. So are my fingernails.
Civilization has made things different these days. Long ago, I’d turn around, jump them, hurl their bodies against the wall, then question them later. If they were there to harm me, I’d tear them to shreds and spew their body parts all over the theater. Things are more civilized now.
I walk gingerly, acting like I don’t know four guys in black suits wearing shades are trailing me. Will they go into the ladies’ bathroom? Probably.
I cock my head over my shoulder. All four of them quickly turn. What’s the matter? Don’t trust your sunglasses, boys?
I walk into the bathroom and turn to the mirror. Then, as I pretend to fix my bun, I pull out my phone and text my guardian angel—that asshole Orcus I can’t stand. I message the contact “Aner.” Aner, by the way, means man in ancient Greek. Yeah, Hades is a man. Everything bad about one.
I type:
* * *
Are your goons following me? Or is this the trouble you wanted me to report?
* * *
Then I wait. I touch my hair again. My vipers are pushing and pulling, hurting my scalp.
A human walks in, but it’s a dark-skinned girl. She’s got on a skirt and looks like she’s probably a student on a date too. She washes her hands beside me and smiles. Then she looks at my eyes. I can mesmerize women, but the effect is far weaker—unless they’re gay.
“You have beautiful eyes,” she comments.
“Thank you.” Got that right.
She nods and exits through the door.
The goons don’t come in yet.
Finally, I feel a vibration from my phone and read the following text:
* * *
Those aren’t ours, Medusa. I’m sending backup.
* * *
I shove the phone back in my pocket, roll my eyes, and lean over the sink with my head in my hands. My hair is getting restless. I squeeze my hand, careful not to squeeze too hard and cut myself with my fingernails, because I yearn for that boy’s touch again. Cut-up hands will ruin the mood tonight, right?
Wait. Who am I kidding? I have an army of Imada waiting for me outside the door. Movie’s over.
Gorgi! What about Ash! Shit, what about Ash! Wake the hell up. Why would you leave him alone in the theater? He needs protection.
I throw the door open. They’re gone. But I still smell them. They’ve run back into our movie theater.
I rush faster than human speed. A little girl nearly drops her box of popcorn seeing how fast I’m moving. I throw open the door and half the people in the theater turn.
But nothing’s wrong. Ash is still sitting, alone now, at the front of the theater munching on popcorn and watching the movie. I sit back down beside him. My heart is thumping. My body is shaking. I’m struggling to keep calm.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah. Fine.”
He offers me the popcorn box. I shake my head.
Where are they? It’s dark but not too dark for my predator eyes. But I don’t see them. There are too many people behind us in the theater mixing with the smell. All I have to do is look for freaks with sunglasses.
What do I do?
My gaze turns green, and I quickly cover my eyes. That’s okay. I can still see the whole theater with my eyes closed. I can smell it.
I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about Ash. All it will take is one bullet hitting his head and he’s gone.
Are you crazy? Don’t think of stuff like that!
He reaches for my hand again. Fuck, I so want it, but I can’t let go of my eyes. But that makes him suspicious, and I sense him turning toward me. I quickly use only one hand to cover my eyes and hold his hand with my other.
“Are you okay?” he whispers again.
“Sure. Yeah. Fine.”
“What’s wrong with your eyes?”
“Nothing. Sometimes they get dry.”
What would Cora do? She’d probably stand up in the theater and shout at the cowards to show themselves. Then she’d tear them apart. I can’t do that. I sense Ash looking at me funny.
“The movie’s good,” I say quietly in his ear, squeezing his hand. I peck his cheek again. But I don’t move my hand from my eyes. And my lips quiver a little.
He nods and leans closer to my side. That’s so cute.
I hear a gun cock. A few people in the theater stir.
That’s it.
“We have to go, Ash.”
“What?”
“We have to go,” I hiss.
“All right,” he says.
Wait a minute. They’re cocking a gun? Why the hell would they do that?
They want to scare you. They want to get you out of the theater.
Check. I’m scared. All it takes is one of these goons to fire a hole through my date’s chest.
Stop thinking of that!
Ash is standing up. That’s worse because now he’s a sitting duck. I grab his hand and yank him outside. Then I feel them. They’re following us. Of course it’s a trap. They want me outside. But I don’t have a choice. I’ve gotta try to protect Ash.
Where’s my backup anyway? The bastard’s text came a few minutes ago. Doesn’t Orcus have the CIA, NSA, or whatever the hell he uses, crawling around Sundale?
“What’s the matter?” Ash snaps.
I ignore him. I’m holding his hand and rushing him out the theater exit.
But he turns me around hard near the exit. “What’s wrong, Gorgi!”
“Look, I’m sorry, Ash, we have to—”
Ash’s eyes open wide. He freezes. But it’s not from my gaze. He cocks his head back and sees three agents wearing shades behind him. Now, Ash is a strong guy, but he doesn’t dare struggle. He puts his hands up. That’s when I notice the guy behind Ash is holding a revolver against his back.
They have no problem walking in the direction we are heading. The sliding doors open, and we exit into the dark parking lot.
“Follow us or I’ll shoot him.”
I could turn my snakes on them. They could swing around and choke them to death. But he’s endangering my date. They obviously know who I am. They don’t even bother pointing the gun at my back.
“Don’t hurt him,” I say. “I warn you.”
Ash glances at me. The look kills me. It’s a weird mix of confusion and rage. I feel horrible. This is the kind of thing that happens to me, and it’s why it’s so rare for me to find a man. Everything is over between us.
Are you an idiot! Who cares. Protect him!
One move. It would take one false move for me to shove them away from Ash and tear them apart. I’m watching and waiting. But these guys are good. They’re professionals and aren’t giving me a chance.
“Come slow and we won’t shoot,” says the dickhead behind me.
“You shoot,” I grunt, “and you won’t live long.”
“We know. We need to talk to you. That’s all.”
“Just leave him alone. I’ll tell you anything you want.”
“What’s going on?” asks Ash.
Three other goons in black arrive and march with us to the back of the theater parking lot. One talks through a walkie-talkie device by his shoulder. They’re all, strangely, wearing shades. Ash probably thinks they’re hunting aliens, or something. I suppose…in a weird way, they are.
“Why does he have to go with me?” I ask.
“Because you won’t follow us otherwise.”
Professionals, I told you. Imada.
They take us to this sleek pitch-black semi-truck that looks like a spaceship parked in a secluded space in the back of the parking lot. I don’t know what their intentions are, but I know they’re not good. As one of them lifts the back door of the truck, a bright white line shines from inside the cabin and makes me squint as the door opens wide. There’s a pile of industrial steel chains in the center of the truck. And the truck has super-thick walls, far thicker than usual. Now I get it. They mean to chain and transport me.
One of the goons stands in front of the truck entrance. “If you want me not to shoot him, you’ll go inside. Get in or he dies. What will it be?”
Where the hell is my “backup”!
“I’ll go if you swear to not hurt him,” I say.
“That’s the deal. Get in. Then he goes free.”
“What are you guys talking about!” cries poor Ash.
I can’t turn. They’ve got two men by my sides and if I turn, he’ll see the green coming from my eyes. Maybe he has already? Well, I don’t want to turn. I couldn’t bear his expression.
I turn. His mouth drops and he stiffens. He freezes. See, he sees my shiny green eyes straight on. Can you believe it? I’m so agitated that I don’t hide my gaze. I can’t even fucking say goodbye to my date!
They walk me up a ramp and inside the truck.
“How do I know you guys won’t hurt him?” I ask again.
“We’ll chain you while he’s outside. When you’re secure, we’ll let him go.”
