“They were.”
But, while she claimed she’d made us into somethingmore, I felt immeasurably less.
Shoving my keys into the ignition, I turned the engine over and let it idle. I planned to drive aimlessly—endlessly—but when I steered the C10 onto the road, it followed the familiar path into the city toward the Urban Easel art gallery.
It was mid-morning, so Sully would be busy with work, but that didn’t stop me from dragging through the front doors and past a well-heeled man studying a still life by the window. Other patrons milled, including a few regulars I knew to be designers who rented art pieces to stage upscale Manhattan flats.
Sully stood on the left side of the space, wearing a patchwork dress and beaded jewelry, with a bandana tying her locs back from her face. I hadn’t found her first or chosen to bring her into our lives, but I was glad Indy had insisted on it. He knew I needed a friend, and the local witch fit that bill.
She was occupied, though, chatting with an older couple. All three of them held glasses of wine and shared a congenial laugh as I padded across the room.
Spotting me, Sully called over, “Just a minute, Lore.”
I nodded, blind to the beauty of the artwork surrounding me. Padding through the space, I came to a stop beside Sully’s desk and leaned against it. I meant to wait patiently, but the sickness festering inside me bubbled up, and I whimpered. It was my hound’s sound coming from my lips.
The pitiful cry worked as effectively as an alarm, and Sully whirled around, her dreadlocks fanning across her shoulders. “Lore?” she asked.
It was a scuffle from there. She excused herself from the conversation and came over to grab me by the elbow. She led me toward the back of the gallery while speaking in hushed tones.
“Are you hurt? Is Indy okay? Honey, you’re crying…”
Pushing through the door at the rear of the building, we entered a vacant stairwell. Sully’s apartment was on the third floor, and she may have meant to take me there, but my legs locked up the moment we reached the base of the steps.
Her fingers around my arm felt constricting, overwhelming. I shrugged her off and took a single, stumbling step back to press against the cold brick wall.
I rubbed my face, wishing I still had the excuse of the shower for the moisture streaking my cheeks.
“It’s that demon bitch, isn’t it?” Sully asked.
My lack of response proved answer enough, and Sully made a gruff noise in the back of her throat. “God, I’d love to have a go at her,” she grumbled.
My palms blanketed my face while the rough mortar lines on the wall scrubbed my spine. I felt out of place. Disconnected from this tall, narrow room and the woman standing across from me. While I didn’t see her expression, I heard her empathy as she spoke.
“It’s all right, Lore. You’re here now. You’re safe… Look at me, hon.”
When I didn’t budge—it was taking all my mental capacity to breathe—her voice took on a lower pitch.
“Loren,” she said, then repeated. “Look at me.”
“Can’t,” I gritted out.
It was a step too far. An advance when I wanted toretreat. Into myself, if I could, away from the world and all its sharpness. The bumpy wall grated over my back again, and I wanted to run from it, too, to slide slowly down and down and down.
Sully heaved a breath. “You hear me, though, don’t you? You’re listening?”
I nodded.
“Go on up to my apartment. I’m gonna take an early lunch. Have you eaten?”
I shook my head.
With a mildly scolding sound, she continued, “There’s cold cuts in the fridge and sourdough in the breadbox. Make us a couple sandwiches and, by the time you’re done, I’ll be ready. Then we can talk.”
My head throbbed with the threat of a migraine as I pushed the heels of my hands against my eyes. It felt counterintuitive to combat the pressure in my skull by adding more, but it was all I could do to keep tears at bay.
“Honey?” Sully murmured after I failed to move. “Can I hug you?"
It meant something that she asked, giving me a choice along with a measure of control I rarely had. As much as I felt gritty and dirty and raw, I felt lonely most of all. I’d barely begun to nod when she slipped her arms around my waist and pulled me into an embrace.