Rob Thurman’s Blog Timeshare: Cheap & Filthy [Part 2]10 Aug 2011, Posted by Appearances, Books, Extras, Fun, Rob Thurman's Twitter, The Cal Leandros Novels, The Chimera Novels in
Cal: I hated him. I didn’t have a problem hating people younger than me. So he was nineteen at best. I hated him and right now I was hating Niko and Robin for drugging me and dumping me here. They kept on and on about interventions and meetings and blah blah. Then Goodfellow gave me a beer and I wake up handcuffed and worse. Then I try gating out of the restraints, which I hadn’t tried before, and end up gating out of everything, naked in front of some guy who was twirling a pair of Robin’s furry handcuffs around his finger and smiling and it damn sure wasn’t a sympathetic smile.
It wasn’t a mean smile either, but…shit…more a Dr. Phil smile. Knowing. “You should take down the attitude some,” he said earnestly. “Buy a blue shirt or a smaller gun with better aim. You’re not a potential porn star,” he coughed modestly, “but it isn’t as if you can’t get by. Average is nothing to be ashamed of physically. Now mentally….”
“Shut up!” I snapped. I slid over, grabbed my jacket and covered the average…and who decided average was average anyway? I could be huge. Who set these goddamn standards? “And kick my clothes towards me.” I added hastily, “Keep the damn handcuffs. They’re not even mine.”
“Oh. Absolutely not. I’m sure,” the smile became grave, his eyes…one blue and one green, weird…glittered. “Just because you were wearing them I would never think they belonged to you. That would be crazy, utterly illogical.” He kicked my clothes, the dim light gleaming off the few pale blond streaks in his dark brown short hair.
I scrambled to put them on, staring at him, startled, this time instead of glaring. “You saw me gate. Teleport, I guess. That doesn’t scare you?”
He tilted his head. “You’re not human. I’m not human. The things I can do, they scare everyone. I know how it is. Prejudice everywhere you go.” He shrugged.
I took a quick whiff of him. No. He wasn’t human, but he wasn’t a monster either. I had no idea what he was—similar to human but much stronger pheromones. “If you’re not human and you’re not a monster, then what are you?”
His eyes narrowed but brightened at the same time. “There are monsters? Not just TV and movies? That would be entertaining. I want to see one. Oh, me? I’m a genetic mutant. Created in a lab by a maniacal genius out to rule the world. The usual.”
“You’re shitting me. That’s only in movies and TV,” I said scornfully as I finished dressing, zipping first. Average my ass.
“Want me to prove it?”
Before I could decide between ‘knock yourself out because there’s no damn way’ and ‘Hell, no. Keep your distance, Frankenteen’, he covered the ground between us and touched a single finger tip to my forehead. I felt a peculiar sensation, so peculiar and…shit…kind of enjoyable that I froze—and I never freeze—until he stepped back.
He looked down at the front of my jeans and smiled, “Go ahead. It seemed important to you and will solve several of your psychological issues.”
I swallowed, unbuttoned, unzipped and took a look. “Okay,” I said hoarsely. “I believe you and you are now my best friend. Hey, there’s a puck I know…you any good at shrinking too?”