She was grateful for the change of subject, though, and gestured to the open driver’s side window. “Take a look. The guy was on his way to some party or something and got lost, I guess. I don’t know why he would have stopped at the service station, though. It doesn’t exactly look like it’s in business.”
“I’m wondering how the hell he managed to stop at all.” Derek leaned in the window and gave a whistle of appreciation. “All-leather interior. This is a hell of a car, whatever it is.”
“Well, it’s a good thing he did stop. Otherwise, I would have been It’s dinner.” She wondered if those terrifying words would come back to haunt her in the night. And she tried not to dwell on the fact that she’d brought It up again. A hot flush flamed in her cheeks, embarrassment at herself for wanting him to acknowledge the danger she’d been in. She didn’t want to be scolded, but a sick, jealous part of her wanted him to care.
“Hell of a car.” Derek looked around the yard, an increasingly agitated expression on his face. “So where’s this guy, now? You didn’t let him stay here?”
“I did.” She drew herself up to her full height, which was pretty impressive for a woman, or so she’d been told. She was still shorter than Derek, but he would damn well listen to her. “I’m a grown woman. I can have anybody stay the night that I want to.”
Derek gave her a sideways look that said, Over my dead body. “Nobody ever said you couldn’t, but how did you know this guy wasn’t dangerous or something? I mean, he could stop here … how do you know he wasn’t sent here?”
“Sent?” She hadn’t thought of that. Maybe she should have. The creature had never sent anyone into their midst before, and it didn’t make a whole lot of sense that it would now. Such a complicated strategy for a basically ragtag monster, but then, It didn’t make a whole lot of sense, period. Nothing in Penance did anymore. “You think so?”
“Could be. Don’t know until we talk to this guy.” Derek started for the house, and Jessa followed.
“We can’t. Not now. He’s sleeping.”
“Well, I guess we’re gonna just have to go and wake him up,” Derek said, his worn-out boots striking a determined rhythm on the porch.
Jessa hesitated. It wasn’t that she wanted to protect the guy in the basement from Derek, but she didn’t want the two to meet, either. Something about the guy reminded her of the reality of her—and the whole town’s—situation. If she stood in the same room with the both of them, the safety and familiarity of another aspect of her pretend world would be fractured. If she kept losing pieces of her fantasy refuge, where would she go to escape the here and now?
She didn’t have much of a choice. Derek was already headed toward the stairs to the upper level of the house.
“Wait,” she called out to him, not sure if she meant to stop him entirely or just stop him from going up. “He’s in the basement.”
“Why would you keep him in the basement?” Derek moved with equal determination toward the kitchen.
First he didn’t want the guy in her house at all, then he wanted her to be putting him in plush accommodations? She rolled her eyes, glad Derek could see her. She didn’t have the energy for a fight about her “tone.” “It was the only place I felt safe keeping him.”
“Don’t you worry about safe,” Derek reassured her. “I’m about to make sure this creep doesn’t lay a finger on you.”
Yeah, from one creep to another, she thought, but she still had to squash a spark of triumphant feminine pride as she followed him down the basement steps.
Four
Waking to the disturbing sensation of not knowing where he was or why he was there, Graf sat up on the rickety cot. Someone was coming toward him, but his vision hadn’t cleared enough for him to make out who. He did know that he was naked, and he didn’t want that kind of vulnerability. He put a hand out to reach for his jeans and started to stand.
Someone yelled, “Whoa!” and someone else yelled, “Don’t get up!”
He rubbed his eyes. His skin was on fire, and he felt like he hadn’t slept at all. He was thirsty, parched, in fact. He needed to eat somebody. “What time is it?”
“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in Jessa’s basement?”
Graf cracked one eye, but the brightness of the basement made it difficult to focus. “Could you cover that window over there?” He hadn’t seen sunlight in thirty years—at least, not willingly.
“Hungover?” the male voice asked, kicking the leg of the cot, and Graf put his arms out to keep from tipping over.
“Jesus, Derek, we’re not interrogating a suspect! He’s allergic to the sun. Put that gun away!” The woman from last night—Jessa, apparently—scrabbled through the boxes and camp gear in the corner and eventually found something to block the light from the dirty, ground-level window. A deflated pool raft stuffed into the hole covered the glass, filtering the light through thick blue vinyl.
The male voice spoke again. “Allergic to the sun? That sounds like something a vampire would say in a vampire movie.”
Very astute. His vision clearing, Graf examined the guy, who certainly did not look like the astute type. Derek, Jessa had called him. A lot of new, human names to remember that he didn’t care to remember. Derek had a college emblem on the hat he wore and a T-shirt with a varsity football logo on it that screamed, I didn’t willingly leave my high school days behind. He looked strong. Small-town strong. Farm-chores strong. Not strong enough to take Graf in a fight. He might not win, but he’d sure put up one, and the last thing Graf wanted was any kind of hard work. Derek slipped a handgun into the back of his jeans. That was another thing Graf didn’t want to deal with.
Jessa stood beside him, not close enough to tell Graf that they were lovers, but close enough that it was apparent they once had been.
“What’s his name?” Derek asked, and Graf let the woman falter for a little bit before he looked up.
“His name is Graf. He was trying to sleep after he was attacked by a monster last night.” Graf rubbed his eyes again. “What is it, 8:00 a.m.?”
“It’s one in the afternoon,” Jessa snapped. “And you weren’t the only one running from a monster last night.”
“I was the only one saving you. I guess I thought that would be good enough reason to let me sleep in!” He thought about standing up and choking her, but then he would be the only naked person in the room, and he tried to avoid that whenever possible.
“Okay, both of you, shut up.” Derek gave Graf what was supposed to be a threatening look, but really just made him look like an angry gorilla.
“Now, listen, Graf.” He leaned on the name like it was an accusation. “I don’t know where you came from—”
“Detroit.” Graf pushed his fingers through his hair. “You can stop your tough-guy act. I’m not going to cause any trouble.” That you’ll be able to do anything about.
“You’re in my girl’s house. You scared the shit out of her, and you pissed me off. You’ve already ‘caused any trouble.'” Derek gave the distinct impression that if Graf had been wearing a shirt, he would be yanking him up by the front of it. It was a good thing he’d turned down Sophia’s offer to pierce his nipples.
Graf filed the “my girl” remark in the back of his mind, for later use. If Sophia had taught him anything, it was that the most effective injury to inflict was to an opponent’s pride. Maybe he would sleep with Jessa,