Page 13
Story: The Golem's Bride
I’ma job. She’s not my friend. I’m evidence, like a bloody knife or a fingerprint.
Oh, God. This is more dangerous than I ever imagined.
I look between Jakob and Reggie.
I could get these men killed. Maybe not killed, in the case of a golem, but destroyed. I know they’re hard to destroy, but it has happened. What if he’s ruined or broken because of me? What about Minegold? What happens if they haul him out in daylight? What right do I have to ask other people to risk their lives for me?
I’m not even paying them anything. Are the Feds?
I don’t know what they’re paying them, but it can’t be enough. “Thank you so much—for picking me up.” I look at Kim, who is frantically texting on her phone in the front seat.
“It’s safe, the car isn’t bugged. Ran a sweep.” She holds up her phone, and I see that she’s not texting, she’s running some sort of program that makes lines of code dance across the screen.
“I could have told you that,” Minegold says, voice still frigid. “This is my personal vehicle.”
“And you were out of it for more than ten seconds. I had to check. Estrada’s men have been known to move incredibly fast.Uncannilyfast.”
Hm. Uncannily? Another word for magically? Is that what Matteo was making kills for? To help other criminals be better at their horrible jobs?
Minegold sighs. “The church, then, Therese?”
“I don’t see a lot of options at this point?” I sigh right back at him. “Oh! Oh my gosh, I didn’t even like... introduce myself for real. I’m Therese.” I look at Reggie. Do I shake his hand? Does one do that with golems? Or with the undercover monster-bodyguard I’m supposed to “marry”?
“Therese, I’m Reginald. Call me Reggie if you like.”
He has the very faintest chase of an English accent, just like Grandpa Artie. Admittedly, he died when I was pretty young, but I always loved that accent. “Got it, Reggie. You can call me Teri. Most people do.”
“Teri. You’ve had a crazy few months, I understand.” He nods.
I want to joke that I can tell he was British-made with that gift for understatement, but I don’t know if one jokes with golems. “That's putting it mildly.” I look at Kim again. She nods, meaning I can talk freely. “Want the five-minute story? Or should I skip it? Is this one of those ‘the less you know, the better’ deals? I don’t want to put people at risk. I... I just didn’t know who to ask for help, and my grandmother always said—.”
“You can tell me anything you want. It won’t change the mission, which is to keep you safe.” Reggie hesitates, then pats my hand.
“Well, I guess the first thing to know is that I didn’t know Matteo was involved in anything shady. Kim knew more than I did.”
“I was already in Rome, tracking the man Delgado killed,” Kim jumps in. “Not that it makes Matteo some kind of hero, but he was meeting with one of his godfather’s lieutenants. Turns out, the man was starting to get power-hungry, and Delgado personally took him out for questioning Estrada’s orders and feeling out others to see if he could stage a coup. I told Therese that this was partly my fault. If I had been faster, Matteo wouldn’t have had a chance to meet him or for things to turn deadly.”
“That’s nice of you, Kim, but you can’t sugarcoat it. Matteo killed that man. He killed him because he was rocking the boat of a violent organization that my h-husband was already in.” The word husband leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I used to love that word, to savor it. I finally had one—and such a great one, or so I thought. He spoiled me with luxuries, travel, and sex. I never had to work (even though I sometimes wanted to). I never had to plan or scrimp and save (a first for the women in my family).
Wow. Never realized what a vapid little rich bitch you were becoming, did you, Teri? Just show up and look pretty, and make sure you had plenty of makeup and everything was waxed the way he liked it.
I wince in my seat, putting my hands to my temples as if I can squeeze the memories away. How did I not realize that I wasn’t being spoiled, I was being “displayed”? Worse, used as a cover, maybe a human shield. No one suspects a man dancing with his wife inside a club one minute of murdering someone outside of it the next!
My strangled sob won’t stay in my throat any longer, and it bursts out in a frustrated, miserable noise.
“Hey, you don’t have to talk. Let’s see if I’ve got it,” Reggie says in his steady baritone voice. “You met a guy who seemed great. He was involved in some bad business that you didn’t know about. It turned violent. You witnessed it, Kim helped you navigate things, and you’re going to meet your new handler at the church. Once you’ve got your deposition taken care of, they’ll build you a safe new life. While you wait, you’ll get to enjoy a few days in Pine Ridge. This is just a break between two chapters.” His voice is deep and calm, like a still pond.
Tranquil.
Something in me relaxes for the first time in months.
“Well, that’s the nicest way I’ve heard it put,” I admit with a little laugh. “And who are we meeting? Interpol? FBI? CIA?” I’ve talked to so many people that I’ve lost track.
“U.S. Marshals, hon,” Kim says, patting my shoulder. “Like I said, if all goes well, you might not even have to testify in court. Delgado might cop a plea before this even gets to trial.”
I nod and lean back against the passenger’s seat. “How much time do you think he’d get?”
“Depends what they can connect him to.” Kim shrugs and checks her lipstick and hair in her phone’s camera.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13 (Reading here)
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62