Rob Thurman - Madhouse

And then there was me. Tainted right down to my DNA. I couldn't be with her. I couldn't be with any human woman. She wouldn't believe that, but she would believe something else. She'd believe in Delilah. Charm had been a one-night stand. A onetime thing for one particular thing. But Delilah was different. With her there was the potential for something else…something that could snare my emotions, the more primal ones, for a while. Something real— probably not especially healthy, but something genuine. That was the betrayal. And George would know it the moment she set eyes on me. Wasn't that why I was here?

Then I saw the white flutter of an envelope resting on the stone balustrade. It was weighted down by a small piece of polished glass, dusky topaz like her skin. I picked it up and saw one word written on it: ring. I opened the unsealed flap and pulled out a small slip of paper. It too had just one word written on it.

Good-bye.

She already knew.

Mission accomplished. Good for me. That had to be relief that burned in my stomach and if I walked stiffly up the steps to the lobby, well, it was cold, right?

I fished out the ring with fingers just as stiff and cold and slipped it in the envelope. Sealing it, I dropped it in George's mail slot and it was gone. Just like George was. Just as I'd planned.

I didn't remember much of the walk back. My hand held tight to the bit of topaz glass in my pocket, but my mind was as frozen as the weather as I flowed with the sidewalk crowd. And that was for the best. I didn't want to think, not about my choices, not about George. Not thinking, that would get me through this day. Committing Niko's cardinal sin— not noticing the unforgiving and dangerous world around me.

But then it noticed me.

I felt the gates open. One after the other. One, two, three…ten…fifteen. I looked up, and there they were—on top of my building. Marble skin, white hair, gunmetal teeth, they blended into the winter itself. You wouldn't have seen them if you didn't know to look. But I knew. I saw them. Lining the ledge like gargoyles, Auphe after Auphe after Auphe.

All looking down at me.

Oh, shit.

Rob Thurmanlives in Indiana, land of rolling hills and cows. Lots and lots of cows. Visit the author on the Web at www.robthurman.net.