Chasing the Moon (21 page)

She rolled her tongue around her mouth and nodded. He was right.

“You know what would be good with this,” she said. “Copper. I think I have some pennies on my dresser.”

“Intriguing.”

Diana went to retrieve the coins, but she made it only a few steps before stopping herself.

“Am I seriously thinking about eating pennies?”

“Is there anything you’re considering not eating?” asked Vom.

She performed a thorough mental scan and found that anything she thought of, no matter how bizarre or unappetizing, seemed reasonable to consume. She tried not to dwell on anything too disgusting, even as her mouth watered.

“I wouldn’t eat shag carpeting.” The insight both pleased and revolted her.

“Good. Although shag carpeting is pretty tasty if I do say so myself.”

She joined him at the table and forced herself to eat a sandwich with slow, deliberate bites. Just the act of eating seemed to relax her. The functional grace of the chewing motion as her jaws worked. The wonderful transformative process where something was destroyed only to become part of something else. She’d taken it for granted her entire life, but she felt the particles dancing between her teeth, skipping lightly on her tongue, sliding down her throat. It was erotic and holy, pure and primal. It was beautiful, a sacrament.

“Oh God.” She closed her eyes, tasting every element of her meal. She was closer to an orgasm than she wanted to admit.

“It’s transference,” said Vom.

“Stop it.”

“I can’t. It’s not something I’m doing. It’s just something that happens sometimes. When the conditions are right.”

“What conditions?”

“I don’t really know. It’s not like I have a manual on this.”

“It’s like I’m hungry, and I know that I can never satisfy that hunger but I have to try anyway.” She grabbed another sandwich and gobbled it down without concern over table manners. “How do you live like this?”

“I was made hungry, and I’ll always be hungry. It’s just something I deal with.”

“That must suck.”

“It’s not always easy,” he said, “but it is my natural state of being. I’ve always thought it must suck to be a decaying bag of flesh that is constantly struggling against entropic forces that will eventually cause all your systems to break down into their component matter and then be redistributed, reprocessed, and repeated in an endless struggle against the chaos you deny is waiting to consume you.”

“Hadn’t thought of it like that,” she admitted.

“Why should you? It’s like being a frog enjoying the taste of flies. It’s not something the frog has to think about. It’s just something it accepts.”

Vom beat her to the last sandwich. He opened wide to swallow it, then stopped, tore the sandwich in two, and handed one half to her.

“Thanks. I know how hard that was for you to do.”

“Not as hard as you think,” he said. “Sure, where I came from, when I was just a single-minded eating machine, it would’ve been impossible. But the transference process works both ways. You might have my appetite, but I have your selfcontrol, your empathy.”

She chuckled. “Never thought of myself as having much self-control before.”

“Most humans have infinitely more self-control than we horrors do. It’s how your species functions, bred into you. You need it to have a civilization. Where I come from, civilization isn’t even a word.”

“What’s it like?” Diana didn’t expect to understand his answer, but she was just trying to distract herself from the gnawing hunger. Eating kept it in check, but it didn’t seem to satisfy the endless appetite within her, which seemed stronger than before.

“Sometimes it’s hard to remember,” said Vom. “Probably because memory itself is something else I’ve borrowed from you. The laws of physics as you know them don’t exist. It’s a much smaller place. Only a single planet and a handful of stars. Everything springs into existence from molten pools of primordial goop, where it immediately begins the process of devouring and avoiding being devoured. And there, I am a god. Of sorts. In a reality where everything lives to eat everything else, I am at the top of the heap. I sit on the great mountain and things kill each other just for the right to crawl into my gullet.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Believe it or not, it was. Especially if you’re lucky enough to be the devourer and not the devoured. It was what I was made for, and I was good at it. Then I fell into the void between worlds and ended up here, with all the accompanying baggage that goes with it. Existence here is a lot more complicated, and I still don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.”

She could relate. Right now sitting on top of a mountain, having people throw an infinite supply of cheeseburgers down her throat, sounded pretty damn appealing. Knowing that this wasn’t her, but coming from Vom, only made her realize how alien life in this reality was for him.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Apology accepted.” He took the plate and swallowed it. “Sorry about what?”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t understand how hard this must be for you.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I guess I should apologize to you for the same thing.”

“There has to be a way to get you back there.”

“I’m sure there is. And I’m sure one day I’ll go back. I am infinite. I have all the time in this universe and the next. But I sometimes worry that when I do go back I really won’t be the same. Eating everything sounds great. It does. But I’ll miss being able to talk to people and think about things. People don’t like talking to primal devouring gods. They mostly chant placating dirges and scream.”

Vom held out his furry palm. “Give me your hand.”

“Why?”

He offered a close-mouthed smile, and she knew he did so to hide his many rows of sharp teeth. “Trust me. Just this once.”

Against her better judgment, she put her hand in his. A spark stung her fingers, leaving her hand numb. And just like that, she wasn’t hungry anymore.

“You took it back.”

“I don’t know how long it’ll last, but it might be long enough to finish your date. Hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed some of your self-discipline too. Just to make things more bearable.”

“If it means never being hungry like that again, you can take it all.”

Diana stood, collected her thoughts. She wasn’t hungry anymore,
but she felt stuffed and bloated. Now that Vom had taken back his hunger, she wondered if he’d taken his omnivorous nature with it. She hadn’t been worried about the fork or the sawdust or the whipped cream when eating them, but now they sat in her gut like a lump.

Vom assured her that everything would be fine. “Go on. Have a good time. We’ll be here when you’re done.”

She wasn’t about to let a queasy stomach end her date at this stage. She pushed away from the table and stood, and when she didn’t throw up or fall to the floor in crippling pain she counted herself lucky.

“Thanks, Vom.”

The fuzzy green monster shrugged as he rummaged through the refrigerator. “It’s no big thing.”

Having held even the smallest sliver of his ravenous appetite, she understood how overwhelming it could be, and how being free of even a tiny bit of it was a relief. If the positions had been reversed and she could’ve given away the burden, she wouldn’t have been able to take it back.

“Yes, you would have,” he said.

She almost reprimanded him for reading her mind again, but that wasn’t his fault.

“Go on,” he said between gulping down whatever he could get his hands on. “Have fun.”

She left him to his appetite and returned to Chuck’s. He opened the door.

“Oh,” he said with a note of surprise. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s great,” she said with a shade too much enthusiasm.

“Glad to hear it.”

He looked so damn handsome and huggable that she did just that. She didn’t plan it, and she didn’t plan the kissing either. She eventually pulled away, feeling a bit embarrassed. Or thinking she should’ve been embarrassed. Only she wasn’t.

Embarrassment came from being afraid of embarrassment. Like a snake eating its own tail, if you had no embarrassment to feed it, it just slunk away into the nether whence it was spawned. It also came from fear of putting others in an awkward position, and it was clear that Chuck had liked the kiss as much as she.

He grinned. His face was a little flushed.

She waited for him to respond. To seize her passionately and sweep her off her feet. At the very least to say, “Thank you.” Instead he bit his lip. He moved his hands in small motions that didn’t go anywhere.

Diana didn’t feel bad about it. She wasn’t herself. Although that wasn’t true. She was exactly the same except for a few slivers of self-control that Vom had borrowed from her. While self-discipline was a good thing when it came to stopping yourself from eating the universe, it could sometimes hold you back from doing what you really wanted to do, and she’d been wanting to do that for a while now.

“Sorry.”

She turned. He grabbed her by the arm.

“Wait. I—”

Diana fell into his arms and kissed him again.

Neither was surprised by it this time.

Fenris’s anguished howl awoke Diana.

She was getting used to it. It happened at least once a night. She was careful not to wake up too fast, to avoid ending up in the nightmare world of the dream eaters. The trick was to keep your eyes closed, to let unconsciousness fall away like a layer of whispery veils.

She opened one eye and glimpsed a shadow slinking away into the darkness. By the time she dared look around, it was gone to the otherworld or imagination that spawned it. She sat up, looked at Chuck.

She didn’t regret sleeping with him. He was a good guy. Maybe it was a bad idea getting involved with a guy like this, saddled with his own weird problems, but she’d worry about that tomorrow.

Diana was hungry now. She’d been hungry for a while. It
was the hunger as much as Fenris’s pain that had woken her. She got up and went to the kitchen to find something, anything, to eat.

Somewhere along the way she got lost. She must’ve taken a wrong turn because she found herself standing on the shores of paradise. The transition was subtle enough that she didn’t notice until her feet were wet. The cold liquid between her toes caused her to jump back. Her first instinct was to expect something horrible. Slime or blood or the pools of drool of a horrible creature.

It was only water. An endless blue ocean stretched out to the horizon. A golden beach rested under her feet. And a lush forest grew only a few yards away. The sun warmed her face. It was like a dream.

But it was real.

It was beautiful. Not just because of the pristine waters and the forest. It was all so ordinary. The water and sky were blue. The sun was neither too big nor too small. The trees were recognizable, with green leaves. Seagulls passed overhead, and the air was fresh and pure.

She didn’t question it. She was positive that soon enough a giant squid would rise up out of the ocean or the sand would come alive and attempt to eat her. But for now she was content to pick some berries off the bushes and eat them while enjoying the view.

“You don’t belong here, Number Five,” said West from behind her.

“I was wondering when you’d show up to ruin everything.” She held out her hand. “Berry? They taste like chocolate.”

He passed.

“What’s wrong with this place?” she asked.

“Nothing. It’s an unspoiled realm, where everything lives in harmony. There’s death here. And chaos. Enough to make it viable. But for the most part it’s a world at peace.”

“No people, huh?”

“Oh, there’s people. Not humans. But close enough. And they’re really quite pleasant. They follow a philosophy of cooperation, respect among individuals, and moderation in all things. You’d hate them.”

“I get it. This isn’t a world I can live in.” She smiled slightly. “Not really made for me.”

“Technically, you’re not made for it. But that’s close enough.”

“Nice place to visit, though.”