“They should probably air out anyway,” Clay muttered, his lids shutting before he could stop them.
“Yeah, you just sleep,” was all he heard as he finally gave in to the darkness again.When Clay woke, Jo was sitting in a chair next to the bed. She leaned forward when she noticed he was awake. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” he said. The wounds on his chest hurt, but it was starting to ease. “How long have I been out?”
“Almost an entire day. Sun set a couple of hours ago.”
Clay wasn’t surprised. He’d been on the run and sleeping so poorly recently. His body had reached a point where it gave out.
But now that they were at a place where he didn’t feel the need to barricade the door or search for Jo’s shotgun, it was time for some real answers.
“You called the men who attacked me pestilents.”
She nodded. “That’s what we’ve always called them, and they aren’t men. More like demons. Or aliens, I guess. Creatures from a different world.”
He blinked at her. First, he had “brothers,” and now he was being hunted by monsters from outer space. Maybe he could sneak away while she was asleep.
“I know it all sounds crazy, but I want you to hear me out. First of all, how’s the head?”
“I’m used to headaches, so what I have now is actually a blessing.”
She softly grunted. “You’d be feeling them until you got here. It’s always worked that way for you. You’re all drawn here, but you always seemed a little extra grumpy and sensitive until you made it home.” She said it with an almost wistful note, as if she were reliving old memories.
“You sound like this has happened before.”
“That’s because it has. I have a lot to tell you, but you should eat something first. Get your strength up.”
His stomach growled and she grinned at him, sending the wrinkles around her mouth into creases in her cheeks.
“I made a shepherd’s pie with homemade mashed potatoes. Sound good?”
“Sounds incredible.” He worked to sit up, making sure his lower half stayed covered by the blankets. “I can get dressed and go into the kitchen.”
“No, you stay here. You’ll need all your energy to start healing those slashes on your chest. They can easily become infected.” Something in her tone made his eyes narrow. Her lips tightened into a frown, erasing the look of joy that had bubbled up a second ago. “Yes, I’ve seen that happen before, and it’s not a pretty way to die.”
“Shit.”
She patted his covered leg. “I’ll get the bed tray.”
He smoothed his hands over the soft navy-blue coverlet. It matched the thin stripes in the old wallpaper. Even with the massive four-poster bed and the matching dark-wood dresser and chest of drawers, the room was still big and airy. There was a small sitting area under the three windows on the outside wall, with two comfy-looking blue chairs and a small table between.
Everything looked clean, if a little old and outdated. Jo appeared a few minutes later, carrying a large bed table that she placed over Clay’s lap. His stomach growled at the scent of hot beef and vegetables.
Jo settled into the chair again while he picked up the fork and dug into the food.
Wonderful spices teased his taste buds with the first bite, and he hummed with pleasure. This was easily the best meal he’d eaten in months. “This is really good. Thank you.”
“When you’ve lived as long as I have, you pick up a few things, and one of those is how to make food taste good. Both of my sisters are accomplished cooks as well.”
Clay hesitated as he piled more food on his fork. He didn’t want to encourage the woman’s insanity, but right then, she was the only one offering up any kind of answers as to why he was being hunted. Even if he didn’t believe a word of her story, he could at least get an entertaining tale to go with his dinner. “Tell me about the…what did you call them? Pestilents?”
“Yes.”
“And they aren’t people, but demons?”
“Not demons in the way you’re familiar with the concept. They’re not linked with God, the devil, fire, and brimstone. They’re beings from an alternate dimension.”
He set his fork down and lifted an eyebrow.
Jo clapped her hands together and cackled. “Oh, I know that look! You never believe me right away. I’m just a crazy old lady telling crazy stories.” She waved her arms in the air, and against his better judgment, Clay found himself smiling. “I keep telling myself to get you to tell me the exact things to say to convince you, but then, a part of me hopes that every time I tell this story, it’s the last.”
Unexpected sadness gripped Jo, leaving Clay wanting to reach out to console her. But he didn’t understand the how or the why of it all.