Chapter 230
The trip was nearly eleven hours. When familiar scenery flashed past the windows, she felt a tingle of excitement. When she saw Jorick's little white house she nearly squealed. Jorick smirked at her enthusiasm.
He parked the sleek car in the driveway next to his silver Escort, an unlikely pair, and they headed into the house. It was just as she remembered; small and dusty. They moved from room to room, checking for intruders. The broken window in the library was still securely garbage bagged and crisscrossed by a handful of boards, like something from a horror movie.
The sun would rise soon, so Katelina headed down to the basement to join Jorick. The main room was floored in cement. A cobwebbed furnace stared at her from the far corner, and the guest coffin stood slightly open so that the red interior peaked out. Set in the basement's right wall were two doors. One led to a room stuffed with random junk, much of it belonging to the house's previous owners, and the other to the bedroom. That was where she found Jorick. He stood next to the stripped four poster bed, frowning.
And then she remembered.
The last time she'd seen the bed it had been heaped with animal carcasses; a present from Alistair. The memory made her ill, and she pressed back against the door frame, as if the room would bite her.
"I flipped the mattress," Jorick said. "But the smell lingers. I believe a new one is in order."
"What do we do in the meantime?"
"We can try to sleep on it, or we can sleep on the floor in the next room. Of course, there's always the guest coffin."
Of the available options, sleeping jammed around piles of crap seemed the best. "I guess the floor."
He nodded. "I believe there's still bedding in there from before."
He was right. The blankets and pillows were on the floor of the junk room where they'd left them. Katelina sighed sadly and lay down. It was better than the guest coffin and leagues better than the abandoned building. Hell, anything was better than that, even the boxes at Kale's.
Jorick joined her moments later. He flipped out the light, then slipped under the blankets. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. "We'll leave tomorrow."
She nodded, but she wasn't sure if she was really looking forward to the trip or not.
***
Jorick shook Katelina awake the following evening. "I'm going to go feed. Why don't you do a load of laundry and start packing?"
She yawned. "You're a slave driver."
"I've been up for an hour. I took out the mattress and the garbage, and added some boards to the window in your library. I doubt laundry is going to hurt you."
He disappeared before she could argue, though she had nothing to say, anyway. She climbed up and shuffled to the bedroom. As he'd said, the mattress was gone, though the box spring was still there. He'd once made a big deal about how old the bed was but she doubted that box springs were historically accurate.
She dressed in clean clothes, a welcome change after so many days, and headed upstairs. The gym bag was thrown in the kitchen, and she pulled out the contents and stuffed them into the washer with one hand. She grabbed the clothes she'd left in the bathroom the night before and emptied her jean pockets. The handful of junk made her think of a child's treasure box; a rubber band, crumpled dollar bills, wadded up gas station receipts and Velnya's silver cross.
With the washer started, she grabbed the gym bag and the junk and clunked back to the bedroom. She tossed it all on the naked box spring and hauled out Jorick's tatty suitcase. She'd spent so much time hauling it around that she felt it needed a name. Maybe Bob? Yeah, it looks like a Bob.
She turned to the wardrobe. Half of it was crammed with black; black slacks, black pullovers, black button up shirts, black jeans, black, black, black. Jorick's wardrobe made her think of a cartoon character. Day in and day out he looked the same; black hair, black shirt, black pants, black shoes. He had such nice skin. She didn't understand why he refused to wear color. Maybe she'd make that her next project.
She pulled his clothes out, folded and stacked them. She was half done when she dropped several shirts. Muttering obscenities, she retrieved all but one; the last was caught on something.
"What in the hell?" She tugged on the shirt, then felt the bottom of the wardrobe. Her surprised fingers found a strange ridge. She followed it in the shape of a square. "A trap door?"
Whatever it was, she couldn't get her fingers under it. Curiosity piqued, she fetched a screwdriver and returned. As she slotted the flat end in the crack, she had visions of forgotten treasure and gold coins. Jorick had probably never noticed it. Anything could be hidden inside!
The square popped loose and she carefully lifted it out. It was too dark to see inside, so she stuck her hand in and pulled out the first thing she found.
The paper was yellowed with time, but there was no disguising what it was: a marriage certificate between a Jorick Smit and Velnya Angelica Lamoure, dated 1855. Katelina's chest tightened. Apparently Jorick knew about the stash - It was his.
With forced casualness, she cast the paper aside and pulled out several identification documents. They were old and each one had a different name on them. She thought of the multiple IDs that Micah had found in Senya's car.
There were other bits of official papers, some barely readable, and others in foreign languages. The latest date on any of them was 1868; the year Jorick had left The Guild and gone into hiding.
The last item in the cache was a tarnished silver medallion, just like the Executioners wore. She held it in the palm of her hand and tilted it this way and that. The twisted metal design was a symbol of fear and it felt weird to hold it in her hand.
"What are you doing?"
She jumped and the medallion hit the floor with a thud. Her startled gaze landed on Jorick. He crouched next to her and nodded to the gaping hole in the bottom of the wardrobe. "You call this packing?"
"I was packing, and then I found the little trap door and thought it might be something exciting."
Jorick picked up the faded sheets and glanced over them. "And was it?"
"Not really." Her shoulders sagged. "Why'd you go to all the trouble to hide them?"
A strange smile flicked over his lips and he dropped the papers back into the hole. "I thought they might be useful. Of course, they aren't now."
"And this?" She handed him the necklace.
He weighed it in his hand. "Ah, this. I don't know. I suppose I wore it for so long that I grew attached to it."
"They don't make you turn them in when you quit?"
He laughed mirthlessly. "Very few ever 'quit'. But no, no one asked for it back. Malick designed these himself, or so he said. It's the symbol he uses for his seal." He absently traced the twisted metal with a stray finger. "It's made of three pieces. One means life or living, one death or the dead, and the third is blood, which links us."
He dropped it into her hand and stood. His eyes moved to the stack of clothes on the bed and then to the suitcase. "How are you going to make this fit?"
"I can't. You'll need to buy some bags." She climbed to her feet and stretched.
"I wouldn't need to if you didn't take everything we own." He stopped suddenly and picked something up from the bed. "What's this?"
"What's what?"
He slowly unfolded his clenched fingers to reveal the silver cross; Velnya's cross. "Where did you get this?"
She snatched it away from him and dropped her eyes, her cheeks pink. "I found it in the fireplace."
"Why didn't you leave it there? If you want jewelry I'll get you some. Now, give me that and I'll throw it away." Though his words were casual, something in his eyes made Katelina's chest twist painfully.
She was just as confused now as she'd been when she talked to Rachel. The damned thing belonged to Jorick's ex- wife, so why the hell did she want it? But she still thought it seemed wrong to wipe out someone so completely, even someone she despised.
"Actually, I think I'll keep it. You threw it out and finders keepers."
His eyes bulged. "Are you serious? What do you want it for?"
She shrugged. "I dunno. I've been carrying it around for a while and I guess it's kind of like a good luck charm or something now."
Jorick choked on her logic. "Sometimes you don't make any sense, Katelina."
"If it's any consolation, I confuse myself."
"No, it isn't. How am I supposed to understand you if you don't?" He softened and pulled her to him with one arm. He brushed her hair back from her face and sighed. "Keep the damned thing if it makes you happy, but don't expect me to understand you."
