Page 36 of Lure

None of it.

The hum under my skin seemed to grow louder. The buzzing was almost too much. The noise intensified as did the agitation. It was like I’d taken a fall into some poison oak, and had to wear some scratchy burlap on top of it and thennotreact.

Abandoning the room they were working in, I headed to the hall and then toward the living room and kitchen. A glance outside showed the bluer sky had been blanketed by darker clouds. Not quite rain worthy, but definitely overcast.

I did a circuit of the living room—twice. The place was almost painfully neat. There weren’t a lot of knickknacks. I paused a beat and searched the room with a sweeping glance. There werenoknickknacks. The only thing sitting atop one of the tables was the universal remote that I’d flung at Bones.

The room looked like one that would show up in a catalog and you could order all the pieces—right down to the rug. Nothing to really focus on so I kept moving.

There were three dishes in the sink, I paused to rinse them out before opening the dishwasher. There were a few dishes in there—all ones from breakfast. So that made sense. I stacked the bowls in the top and then closed it again.

Impatience ripped through me. I checked the garbage can but it was mostly empty. Not that I would know where to take the garbage if it wasn’t. With a low groan, I pivoted and found Voodoo leaning against the column that framed part of the entranceway separating the kitchen and dining room from the living room.

“You don’t have to do dishes,” he said and I shrugged. The pull on my back wasn’t as bad as it was previously. Still not terrifically comfortable, but I’d rather feel that pinch than the sensation of a thousand ants crawling all over my skin.

“They were there and I wanted…” I spread my hands. “I don’t know what I wanted.”

“You’re upset.” The deadpan delivery seemed to make the words even more ironic.

“No shit.” I stared at him. “Of course, I’m upset. Every question I answer creates new ones. You four are all fired up and on the hunt—it’s impressive. But I’m still…” I gestured to the space around us then folded my arms again. “I’m doing nothing.”

For the first time in a very long time, I was helpless. This was not a feeling I ever wanted to encounter. The last time had been when Maman got so sick. I pushed those memories away. I couldn’t deal with that right now. Not with anxiety swirling in my gut like a violent whirlpool threatening to suck the life out of me.

It might almost make some of this easier. The moment that thought tried to take purchase, I ripped it out. No, I wasn’t giving up on anything. Being lost didn’t make anything easier. Neither did being dead.

It just made you dead.

“You want to talk to me about what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” Voodoo’s question reminded me that he was right there, enjoying a front row seat to my existential crisis.

“Not really.” Maybe a little blunt and on the nose, but here we were. “I don’t even know if I know everything going on in my head. I feel like I’ve been ripped out of my life and tossed into another universe where up is down and down is up and nothing makes any damn sense.”

“Well, multiverse theory usually has to do with choices. Choose the red pill, you face the dark harshness of real life. Take the blue and you can continue to live in blissful ignorance.”

“That’sThe Matrix.” I frowned. “Not multiverses.”

One corner of his mouth kicked a little higher. “The principle applies. Depending on whether we’re discussing Marvel or DC, the multiverse discussion can get muddy. Particularly when they can’t make up their minds if they are actual alternate timelines or alternate universes.”

“Aren’t those the same things? Wouldn’t an alternate universe have an alternate timeline?”

“You’d think,” he said and it was his turn to shrug. “Personally, I think they should have actually hired someone who understands quantum mechanics and physics to give them a plausible explanation. Spaghetti and forks are not what I call helpful.”

“I really have no idea what we’re talking about anymore,” I admitted.

“See, that’s the problem. Their convoluted explanations make it all more confusing. Butterfly effect? Totally understandable by the masses. String theory? Not so much.” He pushed away from the column. “So let’s talk about something else. What has you spooked?”

“Does it have to be one thing?” It didn’t feel like just one thing.

“Obviously not,” Voodoo said, holding out a hand to me. “And why don’t we go sit down? You’ve had a lot of shocks and you need more rest.”

I glanced down at his hand and then at him. “I don’t think I can. If I sit still, I’m just gonna start screaming and I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

Admitting I was freaking out was the first step to fixing it, right?

He studied me for a long moment. “What can I do?”

I glanced at the windows. “Can I go outside? I need to breathe. I need to walk—I just need to move where the walls aren’t closing in.”

Head cocked, he stared at me for another long moment, then nodded. “Yes, you can. But one of us has to go with you.”

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