Chapter 61
They drove to yet another cheap ranch-style motel. A neon moon that read Star Dust Inn flickered off and on in the parking lot. As usual, they got rooms with no trouble, though Katelina began to wonder exactly what went on inside the motel offices. Jorick had been able to bend the staff of the hospital to his will. Was he applying the same trick to the motel management?
The bed was only slightly more sanitary than usual, but after the coffin and the long car ride it was a welcome sight. Katelina took a shower and emerged to find Jorick in the middle of rearranging the furniture.
She dropped onto the bed and cocked her head at him. "You never put it back, do you? I wonder what the staff thinks about it?"
"I don't know." He grinned teasingly. "Perhaps we should ask them?"
She rolled her eyes in reply and settled in. Jorick continued to eye the stack critically and then rearrange it, only to repeat the procedure again. He dropped his hands in surrender and muttered dark obscenities to himself before he announced, "I don't think it's going to work. There isn't enough furniture."
"The bathtub?" she asked sorrowfully, but he shook his head to the negative.
"The floor should be all right. I think."
"You think?" she echoed. She wanted very much to ask him what would happen if it wasn't "all right", but she decided she didn't want to know. She still wasn't ready to accept that he was one of them.
Jorick stretched out on the floor on the far side of the bed. He gallantly declined both pillows and blankets. Katelina looked from Jorick's position to the jumbled pile before the window and hoped he was right. She didn't think she could deal with waking up to a pile of ashes.
"If not, I'll wake up and move. It won't kill me instantly," he assured her and she wondered at his too perfect perception. How many times had he answered her unspoken thoughts? For the second time in as many days, she worried that he could read her mind as Troy could.
Jorick's cheerful voice cut into her fears. "Best get some sleep."
She nodded in the darkness, but his words caused a fearful suspicion to fill her. "Why? What are we doing tomorrow?"
"Driving."
He gave no more details and she quickly made assumptions that involved more blood and death. "Driving where?"
She could almost hear the smile in his voice, but whether the mirth was at her trepidation or at the answer she didn't know. "Home."
The breath she'd been holding escaped in a sigh of relief. "So, no more battles?"
"No. Oren wants to wage a war on The Guild, and I've told him repeatedly that I won't be a part of it." His words were too good to be true.
"Really?"
Soft laughter filled the room. "Yes, really."
Katelina fell into a thoughtful silence and then asked, "Your home or mine?"
Jorick rolled his head to the side and studied her. "Which one do you prefer?"
She looked at her feet, uncertain. All she'd wanted was to go home and see her mother and pick up her life, but would that be a life that Jorick didn't follow her into? How would he fit into it? And, what about the police and all her injuries? If she showed up at home like this they'd certainly arrest him.
Though two weeks ago she'd have never imagined it, she found herself asking slowly, "Where's your home at?"
"Not far," he answered vaguely. "It's near the beach."
"The beach." Pictures rose to her mind of sand and palm trees, but she knew they were too far north for that.
She drew a deep breath and made up her mind. "The beach sounds like a good place to go while I wait for all of this to heal."
His smile seemed strange, but he nodded. "Then the beach it is."
She intended to go to sleep, but when she closed her eyes horrific memories played behind them. Last night she'd been too terrified of Kateesha to concentrate on anything else, but tonight the aftermath of the battle was upon her. The twisted face of a teenage boy swam before her, and his scream echoed through her ears. She fought to escape it, but was unable. Seeking comfort or distraction she asked softly, "Jorick?"
"Yes?"
The words were hard to find. "Last night- during the fight. That-that boy-" She was unable to finish, to say "that boy I killed."
Jorick's tone betrayed no emotion. "What about him?"
It was a good question and one she didn't have an answer for. "I-I don't know," she confessed.
He sat up and gazed at her with weary eyes. "It's all right. I know the first time you might feel-" he faltered.
"Guilty?" she suggested bitterly. "I killed someone. I mean - I don't know. I can't explain it." She broke off, frustrated at her inability to express her thoughts. "Watching you, it's different. It's like it isn't real - like a movie, you know? But that boy, it was like he was real. I could see his eyes. His blood was cold-"
Jorick interrupted her. "Had you not killed him, then I would have in order to keep him from killing you, so he'd have died either way. It makes no difference who delivered the blow."
"But it does!" she exclaimed passionately. "At least to me."
He laid a hand on her arm and squeezed it gently, then gave a resigned sigh and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I understand. I was young the first time I killed someone and the guilt weighed on me heavily. But, in time it fades. You'll soon forget."
Her voice was a whisper. "I thought you said that nothing is forgotten?"
"Perhaps I exaggerated," he admitted. "In time you'll forget."
"Will I?" she met his eyes and held them. "Have you?"
His answer was slow to come. "Yes and no. Over time I've become desensitized to death and to fighting. But I won't lie to you. There are some wounds that never heal, no matter the years that pass."
Though she gazed at him questioningly, the conversation was over. As if to prove it, he patted her arm and said firmly, "Don't let it bother you anymore. Go to sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."
He settled back down on the floor, but she didn't close her eyes. Instead she softly murmured, "Jorick?"
Though he didn't sigh impatiently, she felt like he wanted to. "Yes?"
"Kateesha-"
He sat up again. "What about her?"
She found it hard to ask what she wanted to know. It seemed stupid and somehow possessive. "You and her- were you ever- you know-" she trailed off lamely and hoped he knew what she meant.
"Were we a couple?" he asked with amusement. "No, never. I told you, she doesn't interest me. She's too cruel."
"Oh."
When nothing else followed he asked quietly, "Anything else?"
She shook her head to the negative and Jorick lay back down, a small smile still on his lips. "Go to sleep, little one. Tomorrow everything will be better."
"I hope so," she muttered. Though her voice held no conviction, she was really clinging to the slender hope that he was right.
She closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep, but the scene in her mind refused to change. The battle raged. The boy died. Claudius was beheaded. Kateesha dug through the pile of corpses for her meal. As Katelina re-witnessed the last scene, she could hear Oren's words: "She won't stop until she gets what she wants." Suddenly, Katelina was sure that Jorick was wrong and Oren was right. No matter how much they wanted it to be over it wasn't the end; only the beginning.
