Wild Thing (43 page)

'Oh, Alex, have I not been telling you for thirteen years now, that some
thing
followed me back from the Deeps?  But, no, no creature which I could summon to me could penetrate these barriers to spirit and magic.  Nor have I been summoning creatures for Sara to fight.'  He had only
attracted
one: to
frighten
her.  And one more: to Perfect her.  'That I swear, by my Father's Name.'

He turned back to Sara.  'I cannot teach you to fight Her as I do, girl.  At most I could teach you how to hold her – you seem good at that.'

Harmon allowed him to proceed.  Either the simple “instructions” would help reduce Godsson's delusional fears, or they were real techniques which would help Leeth resist a real threat.

Godsson continued.  'Do not try to rip her apart, however – you must pin Her.  Sheathe your claws.'

Harmon started. 
How…?
  Had that been just a guess?

'Nor react with such fear.  Just hold.  Do you think you can do that?  If you can hold onto Her here in physical reality long enough, I can destroy Her.  Can you do that?'

Sara nodded.  Eager, her eyes alight.

But for some reason, watching, alert for some trick or trap from Godsson, watching too on the Imaginal for any impossible magic leaking through the Wards, Harmon felt something terrible had just been done.  There was too much eagerness in Godsson's body language.

Leeth of course couldn't see it.  He watched her lap up the “teaching”.

And what had Godsson meant by his talk of Leeth reacting with fear?  He didn't recall ever seeing her react with
fear
during any of Godsson's episodes.  It was as if Godsson referred to some experience the two had shared previously.  Could he have been referring to the incident where she'd scored her own arms?  All those years ago?

He had a bad feeling about this “lesson.”  'I think that's enough.  Come, Sara.'

But why did he feel the damage had already been done?

PART IV

(One week later)

Chapter 50 

In the end, there had been no surprise visit from the police following Leeth's multiple murders in the city.  Which was just as well, since as the summer days passed, the upcoming problem of the “king tide” solstice soon absorbed all Harmon's attention.

He was not alone.  This year, the event was being treated as if there were significant danger.  They would have more personnel present to offer support.  Already, the area outside Godsson's cell had been remodeled accordingly.

The Director had even written to the Dragon Lord, politely seeking his attendance.  The Chinese Embassy had equally politely declined.  Though there had been a short, impeccably-executed addendum in
Han
characters which the FBI's experts said translated as either “Kill the mage, finish the threat” or “Kill the mage, make the threat real.”  And that the ambiguity was deliberate.

That postscript had killed any support for Mr Smith's preferred course of action.  It also meant the hydrogen cyanide delivery system connected to Godsson's cell, which Brian Shanahan had very nearly blurted out to Leeth one day long ago, had become absolutely their last resort.

But when Harmon had made
that
comment aloud, a disturbing expression had passed across Professor Sanders's face.  Apparently there was a further defensive measure of which even he, Godsson's primary carer, was unaware.

As final proof of the level of concern, Harmon's suggestion that Sara should once more attend had been approved.  When he had informed her, though, rather than jumping for joy, Leeth had looked worried.  Determined, but worried.

Harmon had a very bad feeling about all this.

But so, apparently, did everyone else.

They had all begun behaving as if Godsson's delusion were real.  Had the madman affected them all?  Had Sara's support for his delusion drawn them all into it?  Or was it more like the old problem of climate change – people denying what they didn't want to believe until a tipping point came which forced acceptance?

He felt they would find out, one way or the other.  Tonight.

Leeth paused by the rose bed at the edge of what she'd used to call the Jungle when she was little.  She watched as another truck swept up the long final curve leading to the forecourt.  This one had soldiers in it, one hanging outside for some reason, and he did a kind of double-take when he saw her and Faith, and whistled, two long notes, one high, one low.

She looked down at Faith, wondering if he'd been trying to call the dog over.  But Faith was better trained than that and knew not to go to a stranger.  She turned, continuing her walk along the edge of the forest, only half-aware of the khaki-colored truck squeezing in alongside the black SUVs already there, and the long black, and longer white, limousines.

She was talking things over with her friend.  'I
should
be ready to join Godsson inside his room, Faith, if he needs me.  I know it's not him doing it.  It's Her.  And I know I hurt Her before, twice.  So I know I can help him, if I can just get into his cell.  He's even told me
how
to help: all I need to do is just hold Her long enough for him to blow Her up!  And I think this time he
really
will need me.

'But what if She gets inside
me
?  Like she did to those two friends of Keepie's when he was young?  What if she turns
me
into a monster?  I wish Godsson could've taught me how to block Her out, too, not just
hold
her.'

She bent down to Faith, who agreed it was a worry, but nuzzled her nose forward against Leeth to reassure her it would be okay.  Leeth burrowed her face into the thick fur, smelling Faith's unique mix of dog, leaves, earth, ozone and machine oil.

She sat back on her heels.  'I don't mind fighting something real, something dangerous, that might hurt me or kill me.  After all, Keepie could probably heal me up afterward.'  She shrugged.  'Unless it was
real
bad.

'But Keepie can't fix me if I turn into a monster.  And I… I don't think I could bear not being me.  Let alone some disgusting
thing
with pulsing tentacles!'

She shuddered.

'I like the way I look.  I really, truly, like my body.  Except maybe it'd be nice to have bigger breasts and a slimmer waist.  Well, just a bit.'

Faith was looking at her like she was crazy, clearly pointing out 'Your breasts are way bigger than mine.'  She
whuffed,
quietly, which obviously meant 'What you need is fur.  You're practically bald.'

'I am
not
.  Humans aren't s'posed to have fur!'  She laughed, and Faith grinned back, letting her tongue loll out goofily, trying to cheer her up even more.

But the humor quickly faded, and Leeth stood, the two continuing their circuit.

She waved her hands.  'I mean, it's part of who I am.  It's important, to me.  Real important.  And I like the look on people's faces when they see me.  It's nice.  I feel good.  Even if Godsson says I dress like a, well, I looked it up.  Like someone who has sex for money.  But I don't!'

Faith looked up at her sideways.

'I
don't
look like them!  I looked at pictures.  They're all showing their breasts, and they have these sheer stockings and-

'Anyway, I don't.  But Godsson thinks I do, and Keepie says that's a problem, ’cause Godsson thinks I'm bad.  But he doesn't
really
think that.  We're friends!  He just gets cross.  And it's because he's mad.'

She looked down at Faith, who tilted her head sideways to catch her eye.  'Oh, don't worry, I wouldn't say that to
Godsson.
  That'd be mean.  But he is.  Just not as mad as everyone says.

'Anyway, I've dressed in something like Godsson says I should, you know, that covers everything up.  So this should be fine, right?'

She gestured down at her clothing, the black cat-suit clinging to her body and covering everything completely from her shoulder-blades down.  The black made it a little hard to see all her muscles and everything, unless the angle was just right, but still.  She was kind of glad she hadn't ordered the one with the tail, though, in the end.  That would have looked kind of silly.

'It even has built-in support up here so I don't need a bra!'

They continued on in companionable silence, crossing the road and continuing around the tree line.  Behind them, yet another car drove up the road, but seconds later they both spun around at a strange sound, to see the car fishtailing across the grassy lawn before gaining traction and bumping back onto the road.

'That was weird: he drove right off the road!'  She giggled.  'I guess everyone's a little nervous about tonight.'  She checked her watch.  'I better get inside. We're all getting a special “briefing” this time.  Do you think that cute shaman will be there again this year?  The one I had to rescue, three years ago?  I think he sometimes comes in the bad years.'

She looked down at Faith, pretending she wasn't still thinking about turning into a monster.  She didn't want to worry her.  Finally she bent down to give Faith a last hug, and some more advice.  'Anyway, you patrol out here tonight.  And be careful.  Especially if new-Robo is around.  If you feel funny, just dodge away and run, like I taught you, okay?

'Come on, let's practice!  Ready?'

She smooshed her hands in a mean-Robo kind of way down over Faith's head, flattening her ears, then they zigged and zagged, twisting and somersaulting, dodging across the lawn, till Leeth had to go inside.  Bending down, she gave Faith one more, final hug just to encourage her and keep her spirits up, then put her shoulders back and went up the front steps four at a time.

Her uncle was striding toward the front doors as she pushed through, and he stopped and stared.  'What are you wearing!'

She looked down at herself.  Was that some kind of trick question?  It was perfectly clear what she was wearing.

'No bra?  And are you even wearing underwear?'  He frowned.  'Is that cloth, or have you just
painted
yourself black?  I told you to… cover up… for…'

He ran down to a stop.  'So you covered up.'

'I did.  I'm covered up, just like you said, Keepie.  Specially for Godsson.  What's wrong?'

'Leeth, your nipples are clearly outlined.  As is your…'

'What's wrong with my nipples?  Or my… what?'  She followed his eyes downward.  'My
vagina
?' she asked, spreading her legs as best she could, to check for herself.

Her uncle took a breath, but then just stood there.  She straightened up and waited, hands on hips, beginning to get cross.

'Nothing is wrong with either, but you need to not just
cover
them, but to
conceal
them.'

'Why?  That's just stupid.  He'll still know they're there.'

'Because they send sexual signals.  Men find them distracting.'

She was sure he must be exaggerating, then suddenly remembered something.

'How distracting?  Like it might make someone drive off the road?'

'It's possible.  Yes.'

'So I have to
hide
them.'

'Yes.'

'What about my face?  Do I need to put a bag over that, too?'

'
Leeth
.'

'Fine.'

'And hurry.  The briefing starts in five minutes.'

'I know.  I'm not a child.  That's why I came in.'

'So go and put on some underwear. 
Including
a bra.'

At the look on her face, he felt it necessary to add: 'And then put your… suit back on.  Unless you
want
to appear unprofessional in front of all these men?'

And women
, she mentally added for him, as she turned and stalked off.

Why hadn't he added “and women?”  And why hadn't he ever told her about nipples and stuff being distracting, till today?  Why was it only
now,
when there were all these other
men
around?  Though there were a lot more women amongst the influx of strangers this year.  Probably she wasn't the only one who thought that maybe the thing affected men more strongly than women.

But Keepie had only mentioned the men.  Was he
jealous?

She danced up the stairs.  He was!  Keepie was jealous!

Surprisingly cheered by the thought, she ran to her room.

-

'Sara.'

It was going to be awful, waiting so long.  Two hours!  Why did they have to go in so early? 
She
never attacked Godsson till sunset.  Usually.

'Sara!'

She looked up, to find pretty much everyone in the briefing room looking at her.

'Huh?  What?'

All her life she'd known “Sara” wasn't her real name.  Why couldn't she tell anyone her
real
name, now that they'd found it?  Why did
Leeth
have to be a secret name?

She saw some of the agents near her exchange looks, and focused on her uncle.

'Sorry, Dr Harmon,' she said, very
professionally.
  It felt so weird to call her uncle “Dr Harmon” that she almost lost her train of thought.  'Could you repeat what you just said, please?  I was mentally preparing myself.'

She heard someone behind her snicker, and felt her hands clench.  She sat up straighter, and
that
made several of the men seated in the chairs alongside her turn slightly more toward her.  She felt her cheeks flush.

This was
horrid
.  They were making her feel like a child.

'I wanted you to confirm that you had heard Commander Stone's order.  She said, should anyone feel the need to take action, call out “Target acquired” very clearly before engaging.  So that it will be clear that you are taking conscious action, of your own volition.'

Oh.  She thought about that. 
She
would probably take a while to learn all the secrets inside a person and discover they were supposed to call out the code phrase, first.  'That might work,' she finally agreed.