Sirenz - By Charlotte Bennardo Page 0,72
dropped it back on the table. “Be on your guard. If someone comes in, we’ll have to hide, so we should stay together.”
“Good idea. All I have left is some of my hair and my face. I can’t afford a single feather more.”
Silently, we moved into the kitchen. It was eerily identical to ours, from the marble floors to the giant cabinets and stainless steel refrigerator. Shar opened a cabinet, pulled out a box, and snorted violently.
“What’s the matter with you?” I took it from her. It was a powdered mixture that claimed to be able to fix “creaky bowels.” I dug a claw into my thigh to keep from laughing, but when I went to put the box back, I found every shelf crammed tightly with similar remedies—for hair loss, nail fungus, sagging skin, and other geriatric ailments. And they all smelled funky. The refrigerator was packed with drugs that I couldn’t pronounce if I tried. I wondered how often Jeremy had to come up here, and if his duties included assisting Arkady dosing himself with any of this stuff. I stopped myself from picking up any of the boxes to read the instructions for application, ingestion, insertion, or whatever.
In a closet, in the hallway, we found a box labeled Crème de la Mer.
“Do you know how much this stuff costs?” Shar gasped. “Oh my God, the little bottles are like $150 and he has a crate!”
“What’s so great about this?” I asked, unscrewing the lid from one of the jars and taking a sniff. “It smells fruity.”
“It’s made from lime and natural elements from the ocean,” Shar said with authority. “And it’s supposed to be a miracle cream.”
“I don’t think this would help him if he sat in a tub of it for a month straight.” I said. “He should’ve been more careful about what he asked for.”
“Like us, you mean?” She quirked an eyebrow at me.
“Hindsight,” I rumbled, spinning her toward the hallway. “Moving on.”
The hallway looked just like ours, tan carpet and neutral walls, except there was only one bedroom door.
“I heard humming before,” I said.
Shar nodded. “Me too. It’s, like, air conditioning or something.”
“There’s no air conditioning in January. It’s coming from in here.” I inclined my head toward the door.
Shar pressed her ear against it. “You’re right. Do you think, you know … he’s … in there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Open it,” she ordered.
“And what if he is in there?”
“He won’t see us unless he has his glasses on,” she sang.
“In which case,” I grinned, putting my hand on the door, “we get to work.”
One turn of the knob and a gentle push, and the door opened without a sound.
The room was bathed in a soft blue light coming from the thing that rested in the middle of the floor. Shar inhaled sharply and I grabbed her hand. It looked like a giant coffin.
The sleek glowing monstrosity was the only thing in the room, and apart from its constant hum, there was no other sound.
“What is that?” Shar hissed.
We stepped nearer. The top had a glass lid that was closed, and inside, mist swirled. I squinted at the glass, trying to see through the moisture. After swiveling my head up and down and side-to-side several times, I heaved a sigh of relief. Whatever it was, it was empty.
“It’s too dark in here to see.” Slowly my eyes adjusted to the dim light, and I was able to make out some words printed on the side. “Oxo-bed 8000,” I read aloud. “An oxygen bed?”
“Oooh! That’s supposed to be incredible for your skin!” Shar squealed.
“It looks like an alien death pod,” I said. “If it’s a bed, do you think he sleeps in it?”
“Well,” Shar said, now examining every inch of it, “the more time you spend in it, the more oxygen you infuse into your skin. It’s supposed to be able to reverse sun damage. I’ve always wanted to try one of these!”
“You’re not doing it now,” I quipped. “Apart from someone coming in any minute, think about all the wrinkly skin that Arkady must have to infuse with oxygen. I guess he wouldn’t be wearing much—”
“TMI!” Shar raised her hand. “Fine. I’ll take a spa day in a clean, sterilized oxygen bed when we’re done.”
“That’s better. Now, can we get out of this room, please?” I headed for the door without waiting for a response.
“Where is he?” Shar asked, closing the bedroom door with a barely audible click. “It’s nearly midnight!”
“We need to get out of