The Awakening

He should have been used to her language by now. She didn't use it to be deliberately crude or off-putting. Luther honestly thought she knew no other way, and understanding that only increased the mystery surrounding her. 'I'm not intimate with any of them.'

Gaby scoffed, but otherwise didn't look the least bit concerned about his personal life. 'When you first saw me today, you hauled me away because you didn't want your friend Ann to see me, right?'

'Yes.' The Inquisition couldn't have been this difficult.

'Why? Were you afraid I'd embarrass you?'

'No.' Very little would ever get past Gaby. Luther crossed his arms over his chest and leaned on the brick wall. 'The truth is, I'm still uncertain how involved you might be with certain things going on.'

'The filleted man?'

While most women would have at least cringed, if not gone hysterical. Gaby acknowledged the gruesome murder with casual disregard.

'Quit calling him that, but yes. That's who I'm talking about.' Among other things. 'Not that I'm accusing you of anything, Gaby, but if you are involved, the less anyone else knows about you, the better I'll be able to protect you—'

'Protect me?' She turned and strode away, saying, 'You're an idiot.'

Luther caught up to her. 'Because I want to protect you?'

'Because you think you can. Because you think I'm the one who needs protection.'

'If not you. Gaby, then who?'

She shook her head—and slanted him a look that made Luther's masculine ego rebel.

'Me? You think that I need protection?'

Another look. 'You're the one with the fat bandage on his head.'

Son of a bitch! 'I was jumped from behind, Gaby.'

'And they say cops are alert. Can't prove it by you, huh?' She headed back toward his car. 'Look, just because I let you kiss me and rub yourself against me a little doesn't make you responsible for me.'

The way she put things… She was more blunt than a long-practiced porn star, but as innocent as a child. He supposed most of that could be attributed to being raised partially in foster care, and then later by a priest. An odd mix, that.

'How far did you get in school?'

'About eighth grade. Why?'

That helped explained things further. Most kids learned so much just by being with each other. 'How come?'

'Father homeschooled me.' And then under her breath, she added, 'But only in things he found important.'

'Like?'

She shook her head. They neared the court and Gaby stared toward Ann. More kids had joined her, and together they made a ruckus.

'She's a nice lady, isn't she?'

'I think so.' As they got closer, they could both hear Ann's husky laugh. For some reason, it bothered Luther.

He didn't want Gaby to draw comparisons to herself.

'Thursday, at six o'clock, I'm coining by for you, Gaby.'

'It's a free country.'

Damn, but she could be so infuriating. 'I want you to be there.'

'If nothing else comes up, I will be.'

Guessing that was the closest he'd get to a promised date, Luther matched his stride to hers. 'Can I give you a ride back to your place?'

'I'll take a bus.'

'I could drive you.'

She stopped beside his car and faced him. 'I'd rather take a bus. I don't want to be around you any more today. You're better in small doses.'

Luther propped his hands on his hips. If he didn't have a healthy self-image, he'd be demolished. 'All right. But I meant it about Thursday, Gaby. Don't pull out your fists, but there really is no reason to worry about my plans. I promise you'll like it.'

She made a face. 'Yeah, well, I liked what you did in the alley too, but it still worries me. A lot. So I'll have to think about Thursday. But I'll try to talk myself into it. I've never been on a date.' She let out a breath. 'Luther?'

'Yes?'

'Promise me you'll be careful, okay? I know I used too much sarcasm before, taunting you for getting taken off guard. But you really do have someone trying to hurt you, and regardless of any suspicions you might have, it's not me.'

'I promise.'

'Good.' She tipped her head. 'You infuriate me, but I'd hate to see anything happen to you.'

Luther stood there, without words, and watched her leave him.

He wanted to believe her. He did believe her.

And that left him more concerned than anything else could have.

Chapter Fourteen

Setting the ink aside, Gaby looked at her last drawing, a depiction of a crazed ghoul dying a deserving death under her hands. As a reflection of her current foul disposition, everything now appeared more intense, bigger, darker, and meaner.

Desire for Luther, foreboding of the strange new evil that taunted her, and rage over her helplessness in both made a strange elixir that Gaby had trouble swallowing. Her appetite had waned, she couldn't keep still, and she desperately wanted God to call her out, to give her the power to do something, anything, other than fret like an old woman.

But hour after hour, no call came.

Worse, with Morty dogging her every step, Gaby couldn't track down the mutant atrocity as she'd like. Twice, she had tried going back to the woods to investigate further the freakish happenings and turbulent apparitions festering there.

But shaking Mort proved impossible. Like a shadow, where she went, he followed.

Allowing him to befriend her had monumental repercussions. In the name of friendship, Mort now felt free to invade her privacy at will. Several times yesterday, he'd come to her door asking if she'd like a meal, a drink, a walk around the block. Twice today he'd done the same, lingering in the hall even after she'd barked orders for him to get lost.

No matter how she tried to dissuade him, Mort remained immune to her need for solitude.

If she sought peace with her thoughts on the front stoop, he joined her in the way of old familiar friends, with nothing much to say, content just to waste an hour together.

With sturdy locks now on the front door and all the windows, Morty even slept with his apartment door ajar —he claimed because the current circumstances had shaken him and he wanted to feel closer to Gaby.

She knew it was so that he could hear her come and go.

The dolt worried for her, and had some harebrained idea about protecting her, probably more from herself than anything or anyone else.

He suffocated her—but she wasn't hard-hearted enough to tell him so outright.

In fact, if it weren't for so much evil lurking, Gaby might have enjoyed Mort's persistent companionship.

To keep from taking her bad temper out on him more than she already had, she spent long hours at her desk, working on a new story. She wrote out her frustrations and illustrated her worries, and the newest volume in the