Janet Evanovich: Wicked Appetite

Hatchet’s head snapped around, full focus on me. “I’m not crazy, you idiot wench.”

He flicked his arm out, grabbed me to him, and held his sword to my neck, the blade sharp against my skin.

“Don’t anyone come near,” Hatchet said. “If anyone comes close, I’ll kill her. I swear I’ll do it.”

He was surprisingly strong, considering he was such a lump of dough. He had me tight against him, and I could feel his whole body shaking, could smell the cold sweat of fear and insane obsession. I looked first to Diesel and then to Wulf. Both men were tuned to Hatchet, waiting for the moment to make a move.

Hatchet inched toward the door, dragging me with him, sword still at my neck. I stumbled and felt the blade bite into me.

“She’s bleeding,” Diesel said to Hatchet. “Ease up on the sword.”

I could feel a trickle of blood ooze from the cut on my neck and soak into my shirt, and I was hit with a wave of panic. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want my throat cut. And I didn’t want to bleed anymore. Tears were pooling behind my eyes and blurring my vision. Help, I thought to Diesel. Can you hear me?

Hatchet reached to open the door, and I saw Cat 7143 fly through the air and latch onto Hatchet’s arm. Carl was a beat behind Cat, sinking his monkey teeth into Hatchet’s ankle. Hatchet gave a bloodcurdling scream and tried to shake Cat and Carl loose.

Diesel pushed me aside, grabbed Hatchet, and flung him across the room. Hatchet hit the wall with a thud and a grunt and fell to the floor, where he lay dead still, looking like roadkill. The Stone and the tablet lay at his feet.

A couple tears had leaked out, and my nose was running. I wiped it all on my shirt and pressed my hand to the cut. “How bad is it?”

“Not bad,” Diesel said. “It’s not deep. It won’t need stitches.”

“It felt like a lot of blood.”

He had his arm around me, supporting me with his body. “It had me worried for a minute, but it’s going to be okay. The bleeding has almost stopped.”

Wulf retrieved the Stone and the tablet. “This is yours,” he said, handing the Stone to Diesel. “We made a deal.”

I looked at Diesel. “Why are you letting Wulf have the tablet? It’ll lead him to the next Stone.”

Diesel slipped the Stone into his pocket. “Like he said, we made a deal. Besides, the Marshalls will keep the Gluttony Stone safe. Wulf will never have all the Stones, and he needs all the Stones to have ultimate power.”

“Perhaps,” Wulf said. “Time will tell.”

Diesel let that hang for a beat. “Give my love to Aunt Sophie,” he told Wulf.

Wulf gave a curt nod to Diesel, and his eyes locked onto mine, sending a shot of adrenaline sizzling through me. He stepped back, there was a flash of light, smoke swirled through the room, and when the smoke cleared, Wulf was gone.

Diesel put the Stone into my hand. “Is this the real deal?”

The power buzzed up my arm and spread through my body. The Stone glowed like the sun, and I suddenly wanted everything. Not power, like Hatchet, but babies and cupcakes and kisses and peace everlasting. I wanted perfect breasts and pretty shoes and Thanksgiving dinner. And I wanted it all bad.

“Whoa,” Diesel said. “Your eyes just totally dilated, and you’re drooling. Maybe you should give me the Stone.”

“Never,” I said.

Diesel pried my fingers open and took the Stone. “Wulf must not have touched you. You haven’t lost your Unmentionable ability after all. And if this is what happens to you with the Gluttony Stone, I can’t wait until we go after Lust.”

I glanced at Hatchet, still on the floor but moving, flopping around a little.

“What about Hatchet?” I asked Diesel.

We all walked over and stared down at him.

“He’s coming around,” Diesel said. “He’ll have a headache, but he’ll be fine.”

“You should do something. Arrest him. Or unempower him.”

“I’m not authorized,” Diesel said. “Besides, he’ll go back to being only moderately crazy now that he’s lost the Stone.”

Hatchet opened an eye and looked up at me. “Wench,” he said.

Cat hissed at Hatchet, Carl gave him the finger, and I accidentally kicked him. I accidentally kicked him hard. Twice. And then we left.

A half hour later, we were back on Weatherby Street. I was trying to keep it together, but I was sweating from the effort. Images of birthday cakes, pot roasts, baby blankets, Hershey bars, Cheez Doodles, cases of wine, new towels, frilly undies, and rooms filled with kittens were clogging my brain. I wanted them all.

Diesel walked me into my living room, along with Carl and Cat.

“I have to take the Stone to the BUM,” Diesel said. “Do not go out of the house until I return. It’s going to take a while for the Stone’s effects to wear off.”

“But I need strawberry ice cream, a DustBuster, and lots of new socks,” I told him. “Isn’t there anything you need?”

“Yes,” he said. And he pulled me to him and kissed me.