Yikes.
She’d knew she’d sunk a pen into his neck. Somehow, he’d not only survived, but completely healed in a day.
Nice trick.
“How, uh, are you?” she asked. She needed to get him talking so she could read his mood and divine what he wanted to hear. She was willing to say anything to get out of that depressing little room. She couldn’t even imagine how the walls had grown such a dirty off-white.
What do you name a paint like that? Milky Misery? Awful Alabaster?
Rune moved to sit and then, spotting the filthy state of the cushion closest to Fiona, moved to the next cushion down. He folded his hands in his lap and stared at her, smiling.
“How are you?”
Fiona glanced down where her arms would be, if they weren’t pulled behind her and wrapped in a clothesline.
“I’m tied up.”
Rune nodded. “I’m afraid that’s necessary for now.”
“Why?”
“Because I need you close.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve been spending too much time with the others and you’re letting them influence you.”
Okay. So he doesn’t approve of the crowd I’m hanging with. Typical Dad behavior.
“Which crowd?”
“You know.”
“No...”
“Sean, the Highlander and that girl.”
“That girl? My sister? Your daughter?”
Rune scoffed. “She’s no daughter of mine.”
Okay...
Fiona forced a laugh. “I haven’t been hanging out with them anyway.”
“Yes, you have.” Rune’s hand rose to his neck, his fingers stroking his scar. “You never would have done this to me if you were right in your mind.”
“I didn’t mean to. You just scared me.”
“It’s their influence.”
“No, it isn’t. In fact, I’ve only been talking to them as a spy for you.”
Rune’s head cocked. “What?”
“I’m infiltrating them. I’m going to, uh...” She fumbled for the phrase she’d once used while starring in an erotic espionage film... “...collect intel for you.”
“That’s very smart.”
“Right? That’s what I thought. I wanted to tell you about it but—” Fiona had a thought and changed direction. “I stabbed you to earn their trust.”
“You did?” Rune stroked the scar again. “What if you’d killed me?”
“I knew it wouldn’t kill you. I didn’t cut through the jugular, did I?” Fiona crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping that detail didn’t ruin her excuse. She’d certainly been aiming for his jugular, but assumed she’d missed.
“You nicked it,” mumbled Rune.
“Sorry. Sorry. That wasn’t my intention. But you can heal, right? You took care of it.” Again, a guess. He had to be able to heal. How else could he explain that scar growing in a day? If she could convince him she knew he could heal, maybe he would forgive her.
Rune nodded slowly. “I had to eat a woman.”
Fiona grimaced. “I don’t want to hear about your love life, Dad.”
“Huh? What are you talking about? I said I had to devour her. Eat her like a meal.”
“What?” Fiona felt a cold rush of adrenaline dump into her veins. She hadn’t seen that coming.
Rune rubbed at his forehead, avoiding eye contact with her, as if he were embarrassed.
“I mean, not eat her with my teeth. It’s a figure of speech.”
A figure of speech for what?
Fiona realized her mouth was hanging open and shut it for fear of what might fly into in from that repulsive little hovel.
“What do you mean exactly?”
“You know. When we pull all the life out of someone and use the energy to heal ourselves.”
“Oh. Right. Right.” Fiona nodded and looked away, hoping Rune wouldn’t see she had no idea what he was talking about. If she had the power to do what he suggested, she would have eaten her idiot assistant to heal her ever-deepening crow’s feet years ago.
“And, uh, the woman you ate. Figuratively. She’s dead now? Literally?”
“Yes. Of course. Dust. Poof.” Rune closed his fists and then exploded his fingers outward to pantomime, Fiona imagined, the explosion of dust that had occurred after his snack.
“Was it anyone I knew? Not Catriona, by any chance?”
“Huh? No. She was an actress. Works with a girl named Maddie who might be helping me get to Sean and the others.”
“Maddie,” echoed Fiona, trying to place the name. “Maddie Barbeau?”
Rune shrugged.
Didn’t Pete say something about the craft show co-host going missing? Someone with a stupid name...something Southern...Who was that woman Maddie was always complaining about?
“Dixie?” she asked, the name popping into her mind along with the vision of the woman it belonged to. Blonde, big tits. Just the sort of young up and comer she hated.
If Dad had to eat someone...
Rune grunted. “I think so. It doesn’t matter. Do you name your food?”
“Do I...?”
Rune stared at Fiona, his eyes suddenly shaped by a cruel squint she’d seen before when his mood turned sour.
She smiled. “No. Of course not, silly. I was just thinking I’m glad you chose her. She was—” Fiona was about to say a terrible person, but though Dixie was a lot of things, terrible wasn’t one of them. Too nice, if anything. “She was annoying. A goody-two-shoes.”
Rune looked up from where he’d been staring at the crumb-littered floor and suddenly leapt from his seat to lay his good hand and his metal hand on her knees. Catriona yipped like a Pomeranian with surprise and fear.
“Exactly.” Rune stared into her eyes. “You do understand. We have to teach these people to look out for themselves. Survival of the fittest. None of this help-our-fellow-man nonsense that only creates weakness.”
He hissed the last word and pounded her left knee with the back of his good fist. She flinched.
“Ow.”
“Sorry.” He patted her and then leaned in, his eyes dancing left and right, as if he was about to share a secret he didn’t want anyone else to hear.
“There’s more of us,” he whispered.
“Oh?”
