some of your own clothes, as well.” She grinned. “Though you really do have a bod under all your starch and tweed. You should show it off more.”
Lucy thought she should say thanks, but she was too busy blushing. Since when did women talk that way to one another?
“Shit, you think that’s bad, wait till my brother gets a load of you in that getup.” Brigit nodded at the bag. “Go on, eat your junk food.”
“Um…did you bring some for…your brother?”
Brigit frowned, tilting her head to one side. “Yeah. Sure I did. Why do you ask?”
Lucy shook her head, averting her eyes, not wanting to reply and not sure why. She shouldn’t be concerned about the well-being of her captor. Was this the beginning of Stockholm Syndrome? No, it was far too soon, and yet… She wanted to like him. She wanted this odd and inexplicable—yet entirely undeniable—attraction she felt for him to be…okay. He’d seemed exhausted, worn out, run down, after only a few hours with Rhiannon and her notion of his “training,” whatever that entailed. But she couldn’t tell Brigit she was worried about him, not without giving herself away.
She prayed he was good and not evil. She wanted to think of him as her hero again.
“I just…figured he’d be hungry, too,” she finally said, and it was lame, but it was the best she could do.
Brigit was eyeing her curiously. “Nothing to worry about. I brought him a ton.”
Time for a subject change, Lucy decided. “I’ve, um—I’ve actually already begun translating. Just a word here and there, the ones I recognize without my notes.”
Brigit looked at the notebook where Lucy had been copying the cuneiform line for line, leaving blank lines in between for her translation. A few simple words already occupied those blanks. Simple conjunctions like and, to, with, the, and a few more meaningful words like ancient, death, murder, and the names Utanapishtim and Ziasudra.
Brigit looked at Lucy again. “You really know your shit, don’t you? I mean, you’ve already got a lot, and you didn’t even have your reference books or notes or anything.”
“Or my glasses,” Lucy added, fishing them from their designated pocket in the bag and putting them on. “It’s what I’ve been doing all my life. What my parents did. I grew up with this.” She thought Brigit looked as if she admired her just for a moment, before the other woman shielded her expression. Lucy decided to try again for more information. She’d really been counting on that book to tell her what she wanted to know about the vampires. “It would help a lot if I knew what you were looking for. Specifically, I mean. That way I could let you know the minute I find it.”
Brigit studied her face. “It’s a reasonable request. I’ll ask and get back to you. Meanwhile, the rest of your stuff is in your satchel. Phone included. There’s no reception in here, and the wireless connection for the computer is password protected. God knows 3G hasn’t made it out here yet. So there’s no risk you’ll do anything stupid, like calling for help.”
“I wasn’t going to do that.”
“Better safe than sorry,” Brigit said, and then she nodded at Lucy’s cleavage. “That’s pretty,” she observed.
Lucy’s hand rose, and she felt the necklace she’d forgotten all about, the jade Kwan Yin Mr. Folsom had been using as a bookmark. And as she fingered it, she detected for the first time what felt like a seam in the jade.
“Thank you. It was…a gift,” she said, keeping her hand closed around it so Brigit wouldn’t spot that telltale rift, surprised that Brigit seemed to be making an effort to be friendly.
“Suits you,” Brigit said. “Kwan Yin. Mercy and compassion and all that soft-ass shit. I’d probably be more in tune with a Kali pendant. You know, with her necklace of skulls and every arm wielding a weapon or a severed body part.”
“Destruction and creation go hand in hand. Kali has her purpose.”
Brigit frowned. “You’re the second person today to use that word to me. Purpose. Interesting. I gotta run. The world’s going to hell out there. You get back to work, okay?”
“Thank you. For the food, the clothes.”
“You’re welcome.” Brigit left the room, taking Mr. Folsom’s book with her.
Lucy fingered the jade Kwan Yin, prying at the very fine seam along her graceful neck. As she tugged, Kwan Yin’s head popped off to reveal that this was more than a necklace.