Chapter 18

“First off,” I say as I look at Minnie. “We’re not in a relationship for me to cheat. And second, even if we were, which we are not”—I make sure to emphasize—“I never did anything wrong. Where the hell did you get that idea?”

“Marlowe!” my mother exclaims in outrage. “I thought I raised you better than this!”

I roll my eyes.

“I didn’t cheat, Mother,” I repeat, exasperated.

“That I believe,” she says. “It’s the fact that you live with this darling girl but you haven’t made it official yet. How ungentlemanly!”

I gawk at her.

Minnie does too.

“But he slept with all those women,” Minnie mumbles again. Confusion swathes her features as she looks thoroughly lost. “Women who were not me,” she whispers desolately.

My conscience roars to life unexpectedly.

I don’t like that look on her face. I don’t like that I put it there.

And it was only a harmless joke…

Yet the more I think about it, the more I realize it wasn’t a joke to Minnie. For some reason, she was truly hurt by it.

I scowl.

How was I to know she’d take it to heart? And now to claim that I cheated on her? That would imply there was an understanding between us.

You’re a fucking idiot, Marlowe!

My lips flatten as I mentally replay everything from day one.

It’s my fault, isn’t it? Because I fucking suck at social interactions and everything of a more emotional nature, I didn’t see what was right in front of me.

Minnie’s behavior toward me and the way she reacted whenever she thought there was another woman flashes in my mind.

She was fucking jealous! She wasn’t worried I’d fire her. She was worried I’d be with another woman.

I mutter a string of curses to myself.

I must be the biggest idiot who ever lived for not seeing this earlier.

Yet despite my anger at myself for letting things degenerate this badly, excitement builds inside of me.

I don’t dislike this. I don’t dislike this at all. Didn’t I already decide Minnie belonged to me? I suppose it’s only fair to belong to her in return.

My lips spread into a smile.

But while I’m lost in my thoughts planning to redress the wrongs I have committed in the past and woo Minnie once more, the matter of the bodies still hasn’t been resolved.

Fuck.

“And where did you hear about those women, dear?” my mother asks sharply.

“He told me himself,” Minnie replies and points at me.

My mother’s shrewd gaze turns to me.

“To make matters worse, he’s been telling me details about it, too. Like how he started at seventeen with a neighbor!” Minnie continues, her expression one of true horror.

My mother raises a brow at me and shakes her head.

“Dear, don’t believe that.” She snorts. “We only had two neighbors back when we lived in that house. One was an elderly lady, who I doubt could spend five minutes without dozing off. She also had a slew of health issues and my Marlowe wouldn’t have ever gone near her. He’s too much of a germaphobe for that. The other one was a vile, vile man who ended up dying in a horrific accident.” My mother pauses. “That happened around the time you were seventeen, though, no?” She raises a brow at me.

I purse my lips.

She knows too damn well it did. Hell, Giles took care of it.

“Oh,” Minnie murmurs. “It was a man then? Not a woman? You also betrayed me with a man? A bad one at that?” she suddenly asks, the fire in her eyes blazing anew.

“Is that all you got from this?” I mutter.

I don’t like explaining myself. Truthfully, I don’t have any experience explaining myself. But in this case, I’m afraid I’ll just make matters worse if I open my mouth to say something.

“I think you’re misunderstanding him, dear,” my mother interjects.

“What am I misunderstanding?” Minnie cries out, and her eyes glisten with unshed tears.

I immediately sober.

What the hell? She’s not going to cry, is she?

Panic takes hold of me.

“There are other types of…bodies,” I hurry to say.

I’ll take anything but her tears.

Never her tears.

Minnie stares at me.

“I don’t understand,” she adds in a defeated tone. Her lips tremble and a lone tear slides down her cheek.

Something pricks at my heart.

Fuck. My chest tightens.

All I’ve wanted to do was keep her safe from the outside world, but I was the one to hurt her.

I was the one to make her fucking cry.

That’s unacceptable.

“My body count is strictly reserved for the bodies that end up in my fireplace,” I explain. Then I hold my breath while I wait for my meaning to sink in.

She blinks. Then frowns. Then her mouth parts in realization.

“You mean…”

I nod.

“So you lied to me?” Suddenly, her tone is once more aggressive.

“I didn’t technically lie. You misunderstood me.” I shrug.

“Me?” Her eyes widen. “You let me misunderstand it on purpose! Why would you do that?” She stands up, her cheeks flushed, her entire body vibrating with anger. “I’ve been torturing myself these past weeks with thoughts of you and those one hundred-plus bodies. Damn you, Marlowe! You’re a wretch and I don’t like you anymore.”

“You just said you like everything about me,” I protest.

“I liked. Past tense. I changed my mind,” she mutters belligerently. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

She huffs at me, takes her chair, and moves it to the far end of the table. My mother watches the entire exchange with an amused smile.

“Minnie!” I call after her.

She scowls at me.

“Wretch!” she insults me before she decides to ignore me.

My mother takes her hand and consoles her.

“There, dear. Don’t fret too much. I told you my Marlowe would never do that. He’s a handsome devil, I’ll give you that. Just like his father,” she says, her eyes slowly rising to meet mine.

My body tenses.

“But I knew since he was a boy that he would never be like his father. He might be odd and reclusive, and he certainly harbors one too many compulsive tendencies that I’ve told him to seek help for, but he’s not a bad one.” She smiles. “He’s my little knight in shining armor. Always there to help me, even when he thinks I don’t know it.”

Minnie sniffles a sob. She grabs a napkin off the table and blows her nose. I suppose this is neither the time nor the place to tell her that napkin is supposed to go on her lap while she’s eating.

“He’s been so bad to me,” she whimpers between sobs. “Tricking me into believing he had a harem of women out there. How was I to stand a chance against that?”

My mother gives me a sharp look.

Why do I suddenly feel cornered?

Also when the hell did I imply I had a harem of women?

“He’s more likely to have a harem of dead bodies than a harem of women, dear. Why, the rascal can barely bring himself to hug his own mother and you think he’d do that with another woman? Multiple women?” My mother scoffs aloud.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Mother,” I mumble.

At the same time, Minnie looks at my mother with wide eyes.

“You know about the harem of dead bodies?” she asks, her voice tinged with awe.

Fuck.

My mother blinks.

“I was speaking figuratively, of course,” she says in a low voice before she glares at me.

“Oh,” Minnie gasps. “I?—”

“Marlowe! Didn’t I tell you not to collect dead bodies anymore? Damn it, dear. That habit of yours will bring nothing but trouble.”

“You know?” Minnie asks.

“I’m his mother. Of course I know everything that goes on with him.”

“As in, you have Giles to spy on me for you,” I mumble.

“Spy is a very harsh word, dear. I cannot help it if Giles decides to share.” She smiles brightly. “But now I’ll need to have a word with him about this. I don’t like you living with dead bodies. It’s all right if you have a distaste of the living, but really, Marlowe? I don’t even know how you can stand it with that obsession of yours with cleanliness…” She pauses. “Then again, last time, you kept them frozen in an industrial fridge,” she adds pensively.

Minnie’s mouth drops open in shock.

“He had a fridge full of dead people?” She marvels.

“Oh, yes! He even placed them around to make them look as though they were engaged in a theatrical scene. It was a very odd period of his life.”

“Oh, tell me more!” Minnie says eagerly.

“I’ve never been there, of course. He doesn’t want me at his house.” Another glare. “Perhaps it’s because of the dead bodies. He knows I don’t fancy the smell of rotting flesh.”

“They were frozen. They didn’t smell,” I interject.

“Anyhow. Giles told me all about it since we had to find a way to convince Marlowe to get rid of them. He was collecting them almost like figurines.”

“Like figurines?” Minnie intones.

“Yes! They were arranged hierarchically according to the crimes they committed. I did quite like the idea of it, but the execution?” She shakes her head.

That’s it. This is getting out of hand.

“Mom!” I groan. “I’ll have you know—both of you—that I do not have a harem of dead bodies in my house, okay?”

“Well, technically they’re not bodies anymore, no? They’re charred bones,” Minnie adds, her expression serious.

“I have heard.” My mother nods. “That’s a very good idea, indeed. But you still cannot keep those charred bones around, Marlowe. Technology is quite advanced these days and they can even get DNA from badly damaged bones.”

“I know that, Mother. I get rid of them, don’t worry.”

“No, he doesn’t. He left the ashes in the fireplace,” Minnie quips. “See”—she points to her eyes— “I’m wearing them on my lids.”

My mother’s lashes flutter in shock. She looks stricken.

She’s a strong woman who’s not easily put off by death—she’s experienced plenty of it in her lifetime. But this might be her breaking point.

“You…do?” A trembling smile pulls at her lips.

“Yes! I didn’t know about it at first, of course. I thought it was just regular ash. But I’m not mad. I mean, at least they’re useful for something, no? And this way, I’ll help Marlowe get rid of the remains.” Minnie beams.

“By wearing them?” my mother asks, half-horrified.

“Well…” Minnie bites her lip. “I don’t have any makeup. He didn’t buy me any,” she says and points her finger at me, her expression once more belligerent. “So I had to make do. But it’s quite pretty, no?” She bats her lashes to emphasize her eyeshadow.

“Very,” my mother murmurs.

“And it’s all natural too! Aren’t you humans concerned with that? Although I’m not sure if this would be considered vee-gan,” she continues, her tone pensive. Her pronunciation, though, is a little off as she elongates the E in vegan too much. “It’s clearly not cruelty-free, but is it vee-gan if it’s just ash? I suppose it could be up to interpretation, but it is an animal by-product, no?”

Both my mother and I stare at Minnie.

“I don’t think the issue is if human-derived eyeshadow ash is vegan, dear. It’s murder.”

“Well, yes.” Minnie frowns. “But what isn’t murder? Aren’t you guys killing nature all the same? Plants, people, what’s the difference?”

Once more, Minnie has rendered both Mother and me speechless.

Slowly, my mother turns to look at me. She just stares for a few moments before she finally speaks.

“I don’t know where you found this young lady, Marlowe, but this is perfect. So perfect! You two are made for each other,” she exclaims, clasping her hands in front of her.

Minnie smiles. But then she remembers she’s mad at me and scowls.

“I’m not talking to him,” she mutters under her breath.

“Hear that, Marlowe.” My mother chuckles. “You should apologize for making your girlfriend sad.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I mutter.

“That’s right. You two live together already. She’s more like your wife than your girlfriend. Ah, this is just marvelous. I didn’t expect this, especially since it’s…well, you. But now I can die happy.”

Though she does her best to hide it, Minnie is quite pleased by my mother’s words.

“There will be no dying, Mother. You’re young. Stop the dramatics.”

“I’m not as young as I used to be.” She sighs.

“You look wonderful, Mrs. Spencer-Astor,” Minnie interjects, nodding effusively. “Your taste in clothes is very nice, too. I must get Marlowe to buy me some of this too. The color is quite nice and vivid,” she continues as she inspects my mother’s tweed two-piece set. She touches the red tweed with reverence and I make a mental note to buy her some.

“You have a good eye, dear.” Mother winks.

They start talking about fashion and completely ignore me.

The waitress brings us our appetizers, then the main course.

My mother and I went for steak, but for some reason, Minnie declined to get meat. She opted instead for vee-gan pasta.

“I didn’t realize you’ve suddenly become vee-gan,” I note as I watch her eat her pasta with gusto.

“I didn’t.” She shrugs. “It’s just the meat here doesn’t seem to sit well with me. If I eat too much, I get sick.”

I frown. That’s one odd way of putting it. But then I recall that aside from the first few days when she ate nearly everything, she’s been eating meat very sparsely. I berate myself—I should have noticed that.

“What do you mean? What type of meat?”

“I used to be fine with it years ago,” she continues. “But I think it’s all this weird stuff they put in it. The GTFO one. It’s not natural.”

“What?”

“I’m quite sensitive to meat in general, but that’s because of my age and training level. Back home, I can only eat one type without feeling the side effects. In the past, I could eat the beef here, but with these GTFO stuff you humans put inside, I get quite ill if I have it too often.”

I still stare at her. My mother, too.

“Do you mean GMO?”

She stills. Then frowns.

“Genetically modified?” I offer.

“Oh, yes. That!” She nods. “I think that’s why I cannot eat the meat here.” She continues eating.

What the hell? I’m racking my brain as I try to make sense of her words when she puts down her fork. Her meal is only half finished.

She tips her chin up and tilts her head to the side, as if listening for something.

“I have to go,” she says as she suddenly stands up.

“Are you all right, dear?” my mother asks, concerned.

“Y-yes. I must go to the bathroom.” She smiles sweetly as she retreats and exits the room.

The door barely closes when my mother starts talking.

“Lovely girl, Marlowe. A bit odd, but I suppose it’s only fair when you’re so odd yourself. But she’s quite the beauty, isn’t she?”

“She is,” I grunt. My mind is still on her abrupt departure. It looked as if she had somewhere to go. But where?

“But her accent…” She frowns. “Where is she from? Her accent sounds rather…”

That gets my attention. I’ve wondered about her accent from the beginning, but I could not quite place it. At first, I thought it might be a Boston accent or thereabouts. Later, when the mystery of her background grew, I simply suspected she was faking a British accent to throw me off her trail—but she hadn’t done the best job mimicking it.

“Rather?”

“Mid-Atlantic,” my mother says. “But no one speaks like that these days.”

“Isn’t that the Old Hollywood accent?”

My mother nods.

“Maybe she liked it and taught herself how to speak it,” I mention with a shrug.

My mother looks at me with a glint in her eyes.

“You don’t know,” she states. “You don’t know where she’s from.”

My lips flatten. This is the last thing I want to discuss with her considering my own frustrations with Minnie’s identity.

“I know enough,” I grunt.

Of course, my mother doesn’t buy that. If anything, she’s probably thinking of ways to find out who Minnie is and why she’s close to me.

“Marlowe, darling. I like the girl, I really do. But don’t you think it’s rather premature to tell her all your secrets if you don’t know hers?”

It’s the mothering tone.

I take a deep breath.

“Mother. I know what I’m doing. Please don’t interfere. And by that I mean don’t ask Giles to spy on us, and most importantly. Do not try to hurt her.”

“How could you think that of me, dear?” Her eyes widen in affected shock.

I roll my eyes.

“Don’t try anything. I’m serious. I’m not in the mood to argue with you. Just know that I will not allow anything to happen to her.”

“My, my! Is that a threat, dear?”

I shrug.

“Marvelous! You do like her.” She chuckles. “Fine, fine. I will not meddle as long as you bring her to my birthday party.”

“Done,” I reply.

“And,” she continues, a mischievous smile appearing on her face. “I want a spring wedding.”

“W-what?” Did I hear her right?

“I’m not getting any younger and I do want to see you settled down. Minnie is a wonderful girl and perfect for you. I approve. Now we can move to the wedding. If Minnie doesn’t mind, I can help organize it…”

“Now, wait a minute. Who said anything about a wedding?”

“That’s right. You haven’t even asked her to be your girlfriend, yet you live with her. Shame on you, Marlowe! You need to rectify that immediately so you can move to the next step. Preferably within the next month so we can set a date.”

And just like that, once my mother gets something in her head, it’s very hard to dissuade her. She continues talking about this fantasy wedding, describing everything she envisions for the occasion.

I look at my watch and note that Minnie’s been gone for a good ten minutes now.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell my mother as I suddenly stand up.

Getting out of the room, I find a server and ask where the women’s bathroom is. There are still people around here—men in particular—and that means my Minnie is not safe.

A server points me in the direction of the bathroom, but just as I reach the hallway, I spot Minnie at the corner. She’s standing with her back against the wall. Only half her body is visible.

What the hell is she doing there if she’s going to the bathroom?

I stride toward her. But I only get midway before I see she’s not alone.

There’s a man dressed entirely in black with her. A man resembling the one in the snow from a few days ago.

From this distance, I can see him better.

He’s around my height, putting him at a foot taller than Minnie. But the man is packed. His forearms alone are stacked, his muscles bulging through his fitted shirt. His hair is a dark brown, cropped around the sides and longer at the top. There are two swirling tattoos on each side of his scalp.

“You don’t understand,” he tells her in a rough voice. “You need to leave. It’s not long before they find you.”

She shakes her head.

“I can’t. Not yet. I let you convince me to leave two years ago and I’ve regretted it ever since,” she murmurs. “There has to be a way, Kai. I’ve been good about keeping my shields up.”

“Minerva,” he rasps and takes a step closer to her. “For now, it’s only sentinels. But next, it will be Commander Azerius. And no shield will keep you hidden from him?—”

“But I just started to live again, Kai. How can I leave now? How can I abandon everything…”

“You don’t understand what’s at stake. I’ve done my best to cover for you, but even my influence can only do so much.” He grabs her arm, his fingers tightening over her flesh.

I see red.

Regardless of how interesting their conversation is and that it might give me more insight into Minnie, I cannot stand still when another man touches my woman.

“Minnie!” I thunder, stalking toward her.

My body is tense, my fists clenched by my sides.

I’m ready for war.

She jumps back, hitting the wall. The man she’s with, that Kai, assumes a fighting position.

“Get away from her. Now!” I call out as I near them.

He places an arm around her protectively, but that barely registers as I swing my fist at him.

His eyes flash at me as he moves his head to the side and avoids the blow.

“Kai, don’t,” Minnie pleads in a low voice, pulling on his shirt. “Don’t hurt him, please!” Turning to me, she bites her lip. “Marlowe…”

“Who is he, Minnie? Who the fuck is he?” I grit out, preparing to hit him again. I don’t care if we’re in public, or if anyone sees it. I don’t care about anything but the fact that he laid his hand on her.

“Minerva, control your human,” the man drawls in a bored voice.

My nostrils flare at his condescending tone.

I swing another fist at him, which he evades again. But I already intuited he’d dodge, so as he leans back, I bring my other fist to the back of his skull.

He manages to move last minute, but my knuckles still make contact with his flesh.

His lip twitches in annoyance.

I smirk. Come on, tough guy. This is just a warm-up for me.

He takes a step back, but I don’t give him the opportunity to retreat. I punch him again, but this time he catches my fist in his hand and twists it.

I grind my teeth at the sudden pain, but I ignore it.

“Kai. Stop this!” Minnie cries out, launching herself at the other man. “You too, Marlowe. He’s my brother!”