Mengliad (The Mengliad Series Book 1) Page 6

  “This,” she said as she slowly approached him. “This. . . mood you’re in. This isn’t about Lilly,” she repeated. “At least, not entirely. What’s going on?”

  The answer didn’t come immediately, lending to her suspicions that something was definitely amiss. When he finally spoke up, he almost whispered his response. “How well do you know Dr. Brady?”

  She scowled, confused as to why the question was asked. “Well. Why?”

  He shrugged, trying to seem casual. “I got a bad vibe from him. He was. . . nosey.”

  “In what way?” she asked him curiously.

  “He asked her how long she’d been Mengliad, and offered to help her, in any way he could.”

  “I’ve known Nicholas a long time, Doc.” She stepped up beside him, placing her hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner. “Believe me, he’s trustworthy.”

  “How can you be so sure?” he challenged, finally facing her.

  Sighing, she reluctantly admitted, “He’s a late convert. My dad performed the ritual. He was killed for refusing to give up his identity to the Purists.”

  “Oh my God.” His gaze found the floor out of shame and guilt. “I’m so, so sorry, Bibi. I—I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay,” she muttered, almost dismissively, and then she turned away, heading for her coat and purse. “I’ll talk to Lilly. Feel her out. See if she suspects anything. But I wouldn’t worry too much. She’s not very bright, and from a distance, like she was, I doubt she has the slightest clue.”

  “Okay, thanks.” He watched as she gathered her belongings and moved towards the door. “Bibi?” She stopped, but didn’t turn around. “I really am sorry.”

  She nodded. “I would trust him with my life. You can trust him with Jessica’s.”

  “Okay.” He sighed, kicking at the ground as soon as she was out the door and had closed it behind her.

  “Craddock?”

  He startled at the sound of his name, but only glanced in Jessica’s general direction, otherwise remaining steady where he was. “Yeah?”

  “You okay?”

  He could tell by her tone of voice that she had likely heard at least some of the conversation that had just taken place.

  “Yeah.” He finally turned to face her. “How was your nap?”

  “Fine.” The uncertainty she was feeling leaked into her movements as she slowly approached him. “You wanna. . . talk?”

  “About?”

  He seemed irritated, but she refused to let that deter her. “Something has you bothered. And it’s not the Lilith thing,” she added quickly. “You were upset about something before we even saw her.”

  Shaking his head, he moved away from her and towards the kitchen. “It doesn’t matter now. I was apparently mistaken.”

  Hesitating for a moment, she then followed him out of the living room. “You said last night that you would answer any questions I had.”

  “I did.” His demeanor was distant as he grabbed a container out of the cupboard.

  “Okay, so, answer it.”

  When he stepped up to the counter she was leaning against, she touched his shoulder to stop his movements. In response, he slammed the container he held down with force.

  “You didn’t exactly ask a question.” While his tone was mostly respectful, it was definitely edging agitation.

  “With everything going on, we’re seriously going to split hairs here?” she challenged him. Craddock groaned and dropped his chin to his chest.

  “You’re right,” he said, avoiding eye contact. “We shouldn’t play games. Especially at a time like this.”

  “So, you’ll tell me why you’re so upset?” It surprised her when he shook his head in answer. “Why not?”

  “It’s not the right time. It’s complicated, and I don’t have all the facts yet.”

  Clearly, he was keeping something from her, and she was determined to figure out what. “Does this have to do with Dr. Brady?”

  “Not exactly,” he replied vaguely, proceeding to dish up two bowls of the mealworms restrained within the plastic container.

  “Not exactly?” Her mind was so preoccupied with their conversation, she didn’t even think twice before lightly pinching a finger full of worms and popping them into her mouth.

  Noticing this, he smirked, though slightly enough that she didn’t see it. “I had concerns about him, but Bibi laid them to rest.”

  Pausing out of respect, she eventually asked, “Did you know that? About Bibi’s father?”

  “You were listening?”

  Surprisingly, he didn’t sound all that upset over the prospect. To Jessica, he seemed more curious than anything else. “Not on purpose,” she defended herself in a soft, remorseful tone, pinching more worms from her bowl and eating them without concern.

  Continuing to hide his amusement, he realized that she almost seemed to be on autopilot, her movements closely mimicking his. Every time he would grab food from his bowl, she would in turn do the same from hers. Distraction seemed to be the key, and he made a quick mental note to remember that for later use. “I knew he was killed for performing the BTR on people over the age of seven days old, but I didn’t know the details.”

  “Is that who you were referring to last night?” she asked, to which he nodded in response. Sensing that was all he knew about that particular subject, she changed it. “Okay, so, explain something to me. In order for this to have happened to me, I needed to have Mengliad DNA in me, from parents or grandparents or whatever, yes?”

  “Yes.” Grabbing another bite of food, he watched as she did the same.

  “So, then, why wouldn’t they—my parents, for example—perform that Blood Touch Ritual on me, when they realized I was Human and not Mengliad?”

  “I honestly don’t know, especially seeing as how Human babies with Mengliad DNA are often seen as fragile, and likely to die within a few months of being born.”

  “Then, the ritual is performed, even on babies who are obviously Mengliad, as a way of assuring their health, in a way?”

  “Yes. It’s kinda seen like Human immunizations,” he explained, taking both of their empty bowls and moving towards the sink. “If your parents, say, were Mengliad, and realized after you were born that you were not, it would be viewed as strange that they wouldn’t have done the ritual. Wherever the break in the chain was, within your family, there must have been a reason why they decided not to do the ritual, and put that child at possible risk.”

  “Well, I’d say it sounds like something my parents would do, to me, at any rate, but I’m pretty sure my brother is not Mengliad, since he doesn’t wear the glasses, or eat insects or whatever. And I know they wouldn’t have put him at risk.”

  “So, we’re looking at least as far back as your grandparents. Any behaviors from them that you might consider odd?” he asked as he returned to the counter that separated them.

  “I don’t think so. . .” She concentrated, trying to remember. “My nonny, my mom’s mom, she was a bit weird, and she wore glasses whenever she was outside, but not at any other time. But she never ate insects, or did anything out of the ordinary. Unless you count stealing saccharin packets from every diner or restaurant ‘odd’!” She laughed, finding humor in her comment—it was an inside family joke that had been said for years—but the smile she wore dropped when she noticed his somewhat startled expression. “What?”

  “She was addicted to saccharin?”

  Jessica arched an eyebrow in response. “Addicted? I don’t know if I’d call it an addiction, since it’s not really a drug or anything. She sure liked it though.”

  “Yeah, well, for Mengliads, it is a drug.” He stepped towards the living room, and the couch that sat in the middle of it, gesturing for her to follow him before continuing. “Saccharin gives us a bit of a high, euphoric feeling. The more you consume, the bigger the high.”

  “Weird.” She plopped down on the couch, turning to face him. “Why?”

  “I don’t kno
w. Bibi might, though.”

  She nodded before returning to the previous subject. “Okay, so, if it was my nonny who was the Mengliad, why didn’t she do the ritual on my mom?”

  He shrugged. “Dunno. Does your mom have siblings?”

  “Yeah. A sister.” She gasped suddenly. “She wears glasses! And even at gatherings or whatever, she almost never eats! Just picks at her food.”

  Feeling as though they were on to something, he sat a little taller. “What about your grandfather? What can you remember about him?”

  “I never really knew him. He died when I was a baby. But I’ve seen pictures of him, and in all the pictures I’ve seen, he never wore glasses.”

  “Sounds like he mighta been Human,” he ventured, then suggested theoretically, “If he was, your nonny might’ve been hiding the fact that she was Mengliad, and therefore didn’t do the ritual on your mother. Just let nature take its course, so to speak.”

  “Then,” she added to the theory, “Mom married Dad, a Human, then, had me and Shea, also Humans.”

  “Sounds pretty plausible to me. With interspecies breeding, it’s basically a crap shoot as to whether or not the baby will be born Human or Mengliad, which is why the BTR came to be. To save children born to at least one Mengliad parent the horrible fate of being Human.”

  Slightly offended, she shot back, “It’s not that bad being Human.”

  “To Mengliads it is. Getting sick? Cancer? Pain while giving birth?”

  The last comment surprised her. “Mengliad women don’t have pain when giving birth?”

  Smirking, he shook his head. “There’s also no pain with your, you know, monthly visitor. Sex is also, supposedly, more enjoyable.” His smirk grew wider when she blushed. “According to Bibi, there have been several studies done, with women who converted later in life, and they all said the same thing. Sex was more enjoyable as a Mengliad, because there seems to be more of an attunement to one’s body.”

  After a long awkward pause, she muttered, “Interesting,” then asked, “Can I get your opinion on something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Should I just quit my job now? Since I’m probably going to have to eventually, anyway?”

  Chapter Eight

  As soon as Josiah entered the apartment, Craddock shot up out of his seat, waving frantically to gain his attention. He put his finger to his lips once he had it, pointing at Jessica in explanation of his actions, who had the phone to her ear, listening intently.

  Josiah nodded in understanding, dropping his messenger bag by the door before joining Craddock; both of them watched in silence as Jessica carried on the heated discussion she was immersed in.

  “Shea, just settle down. It’s no big deal, okay? I hated that job anyway.”

  “Since when?” her brother challenged her.

  “Since twelve minutes ago,” she shot back sarcastically. “That doesn’t matter. Point is, I’ve been thinking about quitting for a while now.”

  “How will you live?” he asked. “Do you have another job offer or something? Any prospects, at least?”

  “No. I’m not looking for a job. . . at the moment.” She glanced at Craddock. “I’m going to take some time off.”

  “To do what?”

  “Travel,” she answered, wincing when he started in on her.

  “What for? That’s insane! You’re an adult, with responsibilities! Not some first year college student! You have an apartment! You have bills! And you know Stacy can’t afford the place on her own, while you’re off globe hopping!”

  “Shea, calm down. I’m not talking about being gone for months! A few weeks maybe? Maybe one month?”

  “Why? Why now?”

  “No reason,” she muttered. “I just. . . I’ve always wanted to. I have a little in savings now, and it just seems, I don’t know, like a good time to.”

  There was a long pause before he asked, “You’re not in trouble, are you?”

  “No, Shea,” she rolled her eyes out of habit, “I’m not in any kind of trouble.”

  “This isn’t like you.”

  She could hear the frustration in his tone. “That’s part of the reason why I’m doing it,” she explained. “Safe, predictable, walk-the-line Jessica. . . she never gets to do anything impulsive. I owe this to her.”

  “Where are you going? Do you at least plan on checking in while you’re gone?”

  “Of course I plan on checking in.” She started biting at her lower lip anxiously. All she wanted in that moment was to get him off the phone so that she could stop having to lie to him.

  “Alright then.” Even though he conceded, his tone indicated he was far from approving. “If you feel this is something you need to do. . .”

  When he trailed off, she spoke up. “It is.”

  “And you’re sure there isn’t something you’re not telling me?” he asked, just shy of accusing.

  She closed her eyes tight as she assured him, “There’s not.”

  “When does your little trip start?”

  “In a few hours,” she lied, starting to pace the floor. The more details he wanted, the bigger the chance she would mess something up. The knowledge of that made her even more nervous than she already was.

  “What’s the hurry? Take a couple days, check with some travel agents, negotiate a better deal.”

  “It’s. . . time sensitive.”

  He scoffed. “In what way is it time sensitive?”

  “My friend, who’s going with me. . .” she struggled to think up a lie, “she has a small window of opportunity on this.”

  “What friend?”

  “You don’t know her.”

  “What’s her name? How do you know her?”

  Ignoring the last question, she blurted out the first name she could think of. “Kristy Patella.”

  “What kind of name is Patella?”

  Flustering, she shot back, “I don’t know! Indian, maybe? Look, Shea, I have to go, okay? I’ll call you with my itinerary as soon as I can.”

  “Jessica.” He called her name with an almost desperate quality to his voice, making her heart race faster.

  “What?”

  “You’re really okay, right?”

  The sound of his concern brought tears to her eyes. She turned away from Craddock and Josiah so that they wouldn’t see her cry. “Yes, Shea, I’m really okay. Stop worrying. I’ll be back before—” Her voice failed as she choked up. She quickly coughed to cover. “Sorry, I swallowed my spit wrong. Just, stop worrying, okay?”

  “Until you’re back, safe and sound, that’s not going to happen.”

  “Fine, get an ulcer,” she quipped, hoping to somewhat lighten the situation. She heard him chuckle softly. “Say goodbye to Stacy for me, okay? And tell her I’ll call her in a day or so.”

  “I will. Have a good trip, okay? Be safe.”

  “I will. Love’ya,” she told him, smiling through her tears when he said it back.

  “Love’ya, too, sis. Bye.”

  “Bye.” As soon as she clicked off the phone, Craddock approached, wrapping his arms around her, holding her as she cried. “I’m never going to see him again, am I?”

  “Not never,” he whispered into her hair, “just. . . not for a while.”

  “What’s the point of living longer, if I can’t be around the people I love?” she asked, her tone a cross between overwhelmingly sad and angry.

  “Jessica?”

  She knew what he was asking. Pulling away from his embrace, she insisted, “I’m not suicidal. Can a Mengliad even commit suicide?”

  “Yes.” He shifted uncomfortably. “We’re not indestructible. We bleed. If we’re shot or stabbed, our organs will fail. If we jump off the Empire State Building. . .”

  Starting to pace, her arms hugging her small frame, she began to ramble. “Theoretically, Shea could turn into a Mengliad. But what if he didn’t want to? And what kind of trouble would it cause if he were to know about all this, but remain Human? ‘Cours
e, even if he did become Mengliad, he would then be in the same kind of danger I’m in now.”

  “The fewer people who know about this, Jessica, the better,” Craddock told her, sympathetic to her emotional pain.

  “I know.” She swiped the fresh tears from off her cheeks. “I’m just thinking out loud, is all.”

  “It’s gonna be okay,” Josiah offered, trying to be helpful.

  She smiled, appreciative of his efforts. “No, it’s not, but thanks.”

  When Bibi walked in, and saw the expressions on her friends’ faces, and the tears in Jessica’s eyes, she just knew something was wrong. “What happened?” she asked, unloading her belongings onto the dining table.

  Craddock shook his head, downplaying the intensity of the scene she had just wandered into. “Jessica just quit her job, and talked to her brother.”

  With Jessica looking away and avoiding eye contact, Bibi decided to ask Craddock instead of her, “What did she tell him?”

  “That she’s taking some time off to travel with a friend.” Wanting to change the subject, to take the immediate attention away from Jessica, he then asked, “Did you talk to Lilith?”

  Reluctantly, she moved into the new topic, though she wasn’t ready to give up the other one just yet. “Yeah, we chatted. I really don’t think she knows anything,” she said, sounding a little unsure. “It was hard to get anywhere with her. She kept going off on these tangents. But, at least for now, I don’t think she knows anything.”

  “For now?” Jessica asked, involving herself in the conversation.

  “With you quitting your job just now, flags might raise.” Bibi turned away, heading for the kitchen.

  “I asked Craddock before I called,” Jessica defended her actions, mistaking Bibi’s tone and words to mean that she was upset with her.

  Attempting to keep tensions from rising any further between the two women, Craddock interceded. “It was my idea that she quit. I thought, if she kept calling in sick, that that might raise flags.”

  “She had to do it sooner or later,” Bibi muttered as she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’m just. . . concerned.”