Текст книги "Berries and Greed"
Автор книги: Lily Mayne
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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 33 страниц)
Chapter Thirty-Six
Beryl
Greid and I were both really busy over the next few days. His client called with a list of last-minute changes to the headpiece, and because Greid was fundamentally incapable of being anything but sweet, he told her it was no problem, and that he’d still get it over to her by the end of the week. He’d been up in his workshop for hours every day, and I knew he wasn’t emerging until he came to meet me after work.
I’d been working double shifts at the bar due to a couple of the staff calling in sick. “Flu season,” Mani had told me grimly. “Hope you have a strong immune system.”
Luckily I did, from living in somewhat close quarters with a lot of other people for most of my life, and from working outside a lot. I didn’t mind working double shifts every day—it kept my mind off things. Like the fact that my period was over and I was desperate for Greid to touch me, but I wasn’t going to distract him while he was on such a tight deadline.
It was a Thursday, so I knew the bar would start getting busy when I went back for my evening shift. I was taking my break and had decided to just go to Deep Brew for a sandwich and a coffee. It was too cold to sit outside, so I tucked myself into a corner table by the window and sent Greid a text while I ate.
How’s it going?
He replied a minute or so later.
Sooo close to being done. I need a cooling eye mask after this. And maybe a visit to a chiropractor to realign my spine.
I snorted. Greid hunched over when he was working and always complained of his back being sore.
You could try listening to relaxing music on the E-B-Phones, I sent back. Maybe they’ll soothe your tired eyeballs at the same time.
I actually tried them out the other day, Greid replied, and I snorted again, imagining him lying on his bed with those stupid headphones on. They are NOT relaxing. The vibrations made it feel like I was going to permanently fuck up my vision.
Well maybe they could, I said, chewing on my lower lip. Maybe don’t wear them again. And maybe we won’t donate them so we don’t inflict that on anyone else.
It’s almost like you think those late-night infomercials with trustworthy businessman Lixi Gablar are NOT legitimate, Beryl, Greid said, making me smile. Have the ScrubShoes failed us?
I wouldn’t know, I sent back. I haven’t seen you out there using them.
Greid replied, I’d sooner chew my own legs off than stand on my front porch doing the running man in those shoes.
I laughed, which drew the attention of the young demiurgus sitting at the next table over. I gave her a bland smile when she glanced over at me, then typed out a reply to Greid.
I have to go back to work in a minute so I won’t keep distracting you. See you at one?
He replied with, Yep, see you at one. A second later, he sent a photo of him flipping off the headpiece on his workbench. I smiled, peering closer at it. I’d seen it before, taking a peek while he was working, and it was stunning. Silvery-black metal that would form something almost like a cage over the lower jaw, coming to a sharp point under the chin, with curling strands of metal topped with tiny jewels that would frame the face like baby hairs. It came to another sharp point in the centre of the hairline, with a big blood-red jewel dangling from a delicate chain to rest on the forehead.
I’d asked Greid if the client would be able to eat and drink—or even talk—in it, and he’d just shrugged and said it was what she wanted.
I quickly fired off, It looks amazing! before draining the last of my coffee and gathering up my trash to throw out. When I got back into Abyss, the evening rush had begun—people anticipating the weekend and starting to unwind after a long week at work. After using the bathroom, I tied my apron back on and joined Gavin, Ron and Yavi, another demiurgus, behind the bar.
The two demiurgus were in a deep discussion about the dropball match that had aired on TV last night. Dropball was a demiurgus sport that was held in an underground chamber and had something to do with hanging from stalactites while passing a ball, but that was the extent of my knowledge. Greid had told me his sister Daga was obsessed with it and went to all the games held in the underground stadium just outside the city.
Ron gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder when I passed them, making my way to the lone demiurgus woman who was just sliding gracefully onto a stool at the end of the bar.
“Evening,” I said cheerfully when I reached her. “What can I get—Oh my god.”
She raised a finely shaped brow, burgundy painted lips tilting into a tiny, knowing smile. Her white-streaked hair was swept back into an elegant chignon, just like it always was on TV.
“You’re Parin var Gelligar,” I got out, voice trembling with excitement. “Oh my god, I love you on Our Neighbours the Humans.”
She inclined her head. “Thank you, dear.”
“My friend loves you,” I gushed. “He loves that other show you were in as well, the crime-fighting one? He had such a crush on you. He still does.”
She let out a delicate yet throaty laugh—just like on the show. God, Greid would be silently losing his shit if he were here right now.
Should I text him? I didn’t think he’d actually know what to do if he met Parin var Gelligar in person. He’d probably panic then forever agonise over how he acted in front of her.
Plus, he was super busy with work. I silently agonised over what to do, shifting from foot to foot. When I realised Parin was watching me expectantly, my cheeks flamed pink. “I’m so sorry, what can I get you?”
“A glass of the souterraine, please.” She rifled through the elegant purse on her lap and pulled out her phone. “So you’re fans of the show? You and your friend?”
“Huge fans,” I gushed, hurriedly grabbing a glass and making sure it was spotless before setting it down on a napkin in front of her. “We’ve just binged the whole thing and are waiting for the new season to come out on DemiTV.”
She chuckled as I grabbed the nightberry wine bottle from the shelf. “That’s why I’m in the city. They trot us out for promo and make sure we visit several of the cities with high demiurgus populations. I’m doing an interview for a local station tomorrow.”
“Oh wow.” I couldn’t imagine having to go on TV and not make a complete fool out of myself. It had been bad enough when one of the high priest’s entourage had insisted on taking photos of us working the vineyards for the Orderly Winemakers’ website. “Is it scary?”
“Oh, not when you’ve been doing it for as long as I have.” Parin waved an elegant hand as I carefully poured her glass of wine. “I’m an old hand at this. Nothing fazes me anymore.”
“I bet you’re sick of fans gushing over you wherever you go,” I said ruefully. “Sorry.”
“Oh no, dear, it’s wonderful meeting the fans,” she drawled, picking up her glass by the stem and swirling the dark wine within.
After grabbing the card machine, I hurried back over. “So are you staying around here while you’re in the city?”
“No, just meeting an old friend who lives in this area for a drink.” She held her phone to the machine until it beeped. “Well,” she added conspiratorially, leaning forward as her yellow eyes gleamed. “An old flame, actually.”
“Really?” I breathed. God, her real life was like a soap opera. “Are you… rekindling your romance?”
Leaning back, she let out a delicate laugh and took a sip of wine. “Not as such. But the sparks of passion never fully left us, even when we went in different directions in life.” Her eyes softened, growing a little sad. “She and I were always meant to be, but not at the same time. Too many obstacles in our way.”
God, she even spoke all fancy and refined and poetic. And what she’d said was so sad. “How come?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Parin looked down at her glass. “I made decisions when we were younger that I… I don’t let myself regret them, because they led me to where I am now. But I picked my career over her.” Exhaling, she straightened her shoulders and shot me a tiny smile. “Anyway, enough of that. Thank you for the wine, dear.”
“Of course.” I nibbled on my lower lip. “I’m sorry about… for your relationship not working out.”
“Oh, don’t be.” She waved a dismissive hand. “We still snatch our moments when we can. Anyway.” She set down her glass and leaned her elbows on the bar, an intrigued glint in her eyes. “How about you? Any old flames knocking around here?”
I flushed, picking up a cloth to wipe down the bar even though it was spotless. “Oh, not—um, no old ones. But… a new one.”
Her expression perked up. “Oh yes?”
“Yeah.” I chuckled nervously. “The, um, the guy I mentioned earlier…”
“Oh, so not just a friend, eh?” She shot me a sly smile and had another sip of wine. “Did you bond over your shared love of low-budget sitcoms?”
I burst out laughing. “He introduced me to them, actually. He’s…” Trying not to let my expression grow too dreamy, I said, “He’s really fun. And so sweet.”
“Look at you.” Parin grinned at me, revealing gleaming white sharp teeth. “Flushed with young love.”
I chuckled, belly clenching at the word love. “I’m not all that young. I’m thirty-five.”
Parin rolled her eyes. “Darling, that’s young. Life doesn’t truly get good until you’re in your thirties and you stop giving a shit what people think of you. You’ve got the best years of your life ahead of you.”
My mouth curved into a tiny smile. “Thanks.”
Her words made some restless part of me—the part that was always there, worrying about how much I might’ve missed out on and panicking that I’d never be able to catch up—quieten down and settle. She was right. I had plenty of time to experience everything I wanted to. Not that I was overly keen to go wild and experience everything. It wasn’t like I wanted to go bungee jumping or climb Mount Everest or anything.
I just wanted to carve out a life for myself that made me truly happy. And even though it hadn’t been all that long since I left the cult, it felt like I was already doing it.
And Greid was a huge part of it.
“God, I wish Greid was here so he could meet you,” I told Parin. “Although he’s kind of… He’s a little shy.”
“Greid’s your beau?” Her brows raised. “That sounds like a demiurgus name.”
“It is. He is.”
Her brows inched even higher. “Well I never.”
My cheeks burned yet again, and I had no idea what to say. Before I could think of any kind of half-normal response, Parin added, “Well, I’ll be here tomorrow evening around the same time to meet my old friend after my interview. I’d be happy to meet him if he wants.”
“Thank you so much. I’ll let him know.” Shifting nervously, I blurted, “Could I maybe get your autograph to surprise him tonight, though? Sorry for asking.”
She chuckled, reaching over to grab a napkin from the stack. “Of course. Find me a pen?”
There were always a couple tucked by the register, so I grabbed one and handed it over, bouncing excitedly on my toes at the thought of surprising Greid with this.
“What’s your name, dear?” Parin asked, the pen poised over the napkin.
“Oh. Beryl.” I spelled it out for her, as well as Greid, and couldn’t stop grinning as I watched her write a short message and sign her name with a flourish.
She folded the napkin in half and slid it across the bar with a wink. “Read it together.”
“Okay.” I carefully tucked it into my apron pocket. “Thank you so much. He’s going to love it.”
“My pleasure.” She grinned, sharp teeth gleaming in the bar’s low ambient lighting. “How about a photo as well? What do you kids call it, a selfie?”
I grinned back, excitement making my stomach jump. I was a voracious consumer of celebrity gossip, but I’d never realised how giddy I’d be actually meeting a celebrity. It was like she hadn’t been real, and now here she was, right in front of me. “Is that okay? Do you mind?”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I minded.” Parin gestured at me. “Got your phone?”
I fumbled to pull it out of my apron pocket and hurriedly swiped to the front-facing camera.
Parin held out her hand for it. “I’ve got longer arms.”
Laughing, I passed the phone over and leaned across the bar as far as I could, going right up on my tiptoes to get closer to her. She leaned in until her hair almost brushed mine—she even smelled all fancy and expensive—and snapped a few shots of us smiling at the camera. Parin was all cool elegance, her lips tilted into a practised smile, whereas I was beaming like a loon, my cheeks mottled pink and stray curls sticking up wildly from my long day at work.
“Thank you so much,” I gushed again as she passed my phone back to me. “This is amazing. Greid will love it.”
She waved a hand and picked her wine glass back up. “Like I said, if he wants to meet me, I’ll be back here tomorrow evening.”
“Okay.” I glanced back to make sure no one was looking, then sneakily topped her glass up with a splash more wine. “I’ll leave you to your evening now. It was so nice meeting you.”
“And you, darling.” Parin suddenly seemed distracted, and I realised why when I followed her gaze over to the door and saw a tall, older demiurgus stepping into the bar. She had short hair with a few grey streaks in it, a nose ring and a leather jacket covered in patches.
When she saw Parin, her angular face softened into a wry smile, but her yellow eyes held a hint of sadness. Parin stood abruptly from her seat, her calm, refined air vanishing as she swallowed.
I backed away quickly to give them their privacy, turning and almost bumping straight into Gavin. “Oops, sorry.”
“No worries.”
He followed me as I made my way down the bar, heading for a waiting customer before I realised Ron was already serving them.
“Who’s that?” Gavin whispered. “Is she famous?”
“Yeah, I recognise her too,” Mani piped up, having appeared from the back office. She glanced over from the register, peering above mine and Gavin’s heads—which wasn’t hard for any demiurgus—to look at Parin.
“She’s in the show Our Neighbours the Humans,” I told them both. “You know, about the demiurgus family who moves in next door to some humans.”
“Oh shit, that’s right.” Mani chuckled. “My mom watches that. You’re a fan?”
“Yeah, I love it,” I said enthusiastically.
Gavin laughed, giving me a friendly nudge on the shoulder. “You’re funny, Beryl. You use a demiurgus phone and watch demiurgus shows. You’re not a deepchaser, are you?” he asked teasingly.
My smile grew a little strained. “What’s that?”
“Come on, surely you’ve heard that term before. Humans who are weirdly obsessed with demiurgus—Deep Earthers. They’re called deepchasers.” He shot me a wry grin, seemingly unaware of how tense I’d grown. “Humans who chase after demiurgus like groupies. You know, like those freaks who live at the top of that hill just outside the city.”
“Gavin.” Mani’s voice was harder than normal. “Can you go check the kegs in the basement? I think one of the taps is running dry.”
He gave an easy shrug. “Sure.”
I swallowed once, then again as I watched him amble off, trying to find my voice. My skin was prickling with intense heat, and I was agonisingly aware of Mani’s gaze on me but I couldn’t get my feet to move. My pulse picked up, heart pounding as sickly sweat beaded on my hairline.
Does she know? Oh god, what if she knows and tells everyone—
“Gavin thinks his opinions are extremely important,” she told me dryly, then nodded at something behind me. “Customer waiting.”
I licked my dry lips and croaked, “Okay.”
“Ignore him,” she added, giving my shoulder a brief squeeze. “Liking demiurgus culture—or liking demiurgus themselves—doesn’t make you anything, Beryl. You can enjoy whatever the fuck you want to.”
“Okay,” I repeated hoarsely, but I still felt sick. “Thanks.”
Gavin didn’t bring it up again when he got back upstairs, but I felt tense and anxious for the rest of my shift. I couldn’t stop wondering if that was what people thought—that I was a deepchaser. That I had an obsession with demiurgus. It made it hard to be cheerful and friendly with customers, and a part of me hated that a few choice words from a guy I’d only known a short time could get in my head and stick.
I noticed Mani glancing at me a few times over the course of the night, which made me even more anxious. I started panicking that she was going to reprimand me for being quieter than normal, not making as much chitchat with customers. I couldn’t lose this job. I couldn’t. There was no way in hell I’d get this lucky again. A few weeks of bartending experience under my belt was not enough to let me land a similar job if I got fired from this one.
I knew my thoughts were spiralling, but the sharp about-turn in my emotions from feeling so elated to meet Parin var Gelligar to this was jarring and horribly uncomfortable. It made the bar feel too loud and busy. It made me self-conscious about what all the demiurgus I served thought of me.
For the first time, I wasn’t enjoying work. I wanted to go home. I wanted Greid. He made me feel safe. From the very first moment we met, he’d never made me feel judged.
Thinking about him chased away some of the anxiety as I stood at the back bar pouring a line of shots. Fuck anyone who judged me and my relationship with Greid just because he was a demiurgus and I was a human. Fuck Gavin for trying to embarrass me for liking a damn TV show and using a freaking phone that was different to his. He should be embarrassed for being so narrow-minded. Not me.
The thing was, I knew he hadn’t even meant it to be a jab. He’d just been teasing. And if he’d said it to literally anyone else, the words wouldn’t have cut so deeply. He seemed completely unaware of my mood as he worked, cracking a joke with me while he grabbed two beer bottles from the fridge. I managed a brittle smile back, and I tried to tell myself not to hold it against him. I was pretty sure even I’d called us cult members freaks when I met Greid. I already knew everyone thought it.
But this had been a terrifying reminder that my past was right there, always lurking, a hairsbreadth away from being discovered. From tangling with my new life. I couldn’t escape it. I couldn’t erase it. It was always going to be there, and logically I knew that it would always, always play a part in my future. In how I dealt with unfamiliar situations and new experiences. In how much I opened up to others. In how I found and kept future jobs.
Helpless, bitter anger rose, and I wasn’t even sure who it was directed at. Gavin, for what he’d said? My dad, for leaving me at that compound? Violet, for raising me there? Myself, for staying for years after I could’ve left, just because it was a fairly easy and comfortable life, and I’d been so smug that I was duping everyone around me?
By the time 1 a.m. was approaching—the end of my shift—and the bar began to quieten down a little, I was in a foul mood. My brow felt permanently furrowed, no matter how hard I tried to smooth it out while serving customers. I didn’t join in with the idle chitchat among the staff, except for a brief smile and a nod when Ron asked me if I was alright, his expression concerned.
I kept glancing at the time, counting down the minutes until I could go home. At a quarter to one, I noticed Ron, Mani and Yavi clustering together at the end of the bar while I put an order through on the register. Once I was done and the customer had wandered away, Ron gestured me over.
“Beryl, come try some!” he called.
I dragged my feet over, noticing the big glass bottle in front of them on the bar, filled with a deep green liquid and organically shaped to look like a wobbly teardrop.
“Try what?” I asked apprehensively.
“My parents just got back from a vacation in Lithuania,” Ron told me with a grin. “Decent demiurgus population in Vilnius. They brought me back a bottle of sliekas, the traditional demiurgus drink there. It’s really good.”
“Hold up, Ron, we don’t know if Beryl drinks booze.” Mani glanced over her shoulder at me as she collected several shot glasses from the back bar. “It’s a strong spirit.”
“Um…” I shifted, not sure why they wanted me to try it. “I don’t not drink alcohol. I just… haven’t really drunk much.”
Greid and I had shared a bottle of champagne after I got my job, and that had been fun because I’d felt safe with him. I’d never tried spirits though, and I didn’t know if demiurgus-made alcohol was stronger. Or even safe for humans.
As if he’d read my mind, Yavi nudged my arm and said, “It’s safe for humans, but not many like it.”
Ron chuckled, lining up the glasses and expertly pouring the dark green liquid into each with practised movements. “I think Beryl will like it. She’s open-minded. Right, pipsqueak?” He grinned at me.
I huffed, but my mouth twitched at the nickname he’d given me not long after I started working there. “I’m not short, you’re just a giant.”
“Yes, he is.” Mani leaned over to kiss the side of Ron’s neck.
The big, beefy demiurgus’s ears fluttered as he let out a sheepish chuckle. “Alright, alright. Hey, Gavin,” he added amicably when the other human ducked back behind the bar, having been collecting glasses from tables. “Come have a shot with us.”
“What is it?” he asked with interest as he dumped the tray and made his way over. “Oh shit, sliekas? I’ll pass. My buddy got me a shot of that once for my birthday. It tastes like dirt.”
Mani rolled her eyes in exasperation. “That’s right, Gavin has discerning tastes. Only lite beer in a can for him.”
Everyone else chuckled—including Gavin, not seeming to take offence to the teasing. It cooled my ire just a little, because I didn’t think Gavin had purposefully been mean earlier. He just didn’t seem to think much before opening his mouth.
“I’ll try it,” I said, not sure if it was because I really wanted to or if a small, ugly part of me just wanted to one-up Gavin—to be the human all the demiurgus we worked with preferred and thought was more open-minded. I didn’t particularly like the idea of feeling that way, like I was competing with him, but after the mood Gavin had put me in all evening with his insensitive words, it probably had something to do with it.
“Awesome.” Ron grinned wide and slid a shot toward me.
I eyed the dark green liquid with a hint of apprehension, but gamely lifted it to my mouth and waited for Mani to count down before we all tipped the shots back. The overpowering taste of what I suspected was just alcohol hit me first, but then it mellowed, allowing me to pick up hints of whatever it was actually made with. Still, I could feel my eyes watering, and I did my best not to pull a face.
Yavi was wincing as he shook his head with a shudder, then he nudged me again. “What did you think?”
“I think I like it.” I licked my lips. “It doesn’t taste like dirt. It tastes kind of like grass. Like… fresh.”
“You’ve got good taste, Beryl.” Ron gave me a friendly pat on the back, then reached for the bottle again. “Another?”
“Oh, no, I think one’s enough for me.” I chuckled and glanced toward the windows, trying to find Greid waiting for me.
Gavin laughed as he passed me, making his way back to the tray of dirty glasses. “You’re a good sport, Beryl.”
“She is,” Mani agreed, and I couldn’t help but grin as I watched Ron pour another round for the three of them. After downing her second shot, Mani nodded toward the front of the bar. “You can take off, Beryl. Your guy’s waiting for you.”
I immediately twisted my head back around, scanning the dark street outside until I saw Greid standing a little ways from the door, dressed in jeans and a long coat. His hair was tied back in a messy bun, and he was looking down at his phone, its artificial glow picking out the sharp planes of his handsome face.
My gut bottomed out. My mood immediately lifted. I remembered the surprise I had for him, and another grin spread over my face as I stared at him.
“Oh shit, Beryl does have good taste,” I heard Yavi say. “You’re with him? Damn.”
“I know, right?” Mani grinned at me. “But she still hasn’t brought him in for us to meet him.”
My cheeks grew warm as I laughed. “He’s just kind of shy. But yeah, he’s… he’s the best. And so hot,” I added, unable to stop myself, a hint of pride making my chest inflate.
“You should both come for dinner one night,” Ron said with enthusiasm. “I can make my mom’s porin. Although, all demiurgus moms have their own way of making it, so we tend to have big feels over eating someone else’s version.”
“Ron, don’t put Beryl on the spot like that.” Mani gave his huge shoulder a gentle push. “She just told us her man is shy. The offer’s there if you ever do want to,” she added to me with a smile. “But no pressure.”
My cheeks flushed with pleasure. “That sounds nice. Thank you. I’ll ask him.”
“Go on, pipsqueak, get going.” Ron shooed me away.
“Thanks for all your hard work this week, Beryl,” Mani added. “We couldn’t have done it without you. I haven’t scheduled you in for any weekend shifts, so you get some time off after tomorrow.”
“Oh, wow. Thanks.” I hovered for a few seconds. “Okay, well, see you tomorrow.”
“See you, Beryl.”
I was in a much better mood as I made my way to the back office, even managing to give Gavin a smile and a wave as I passed him. He waved cheerfully back, still blissfully unaware of how much his flippant words had affected me all evening. I supposed some people were just like that.
After reaching the quiet of the back office, I untied my apron and carefully transferred the signed napkin and my phone to my coat pocket before slipping it on. When I stepped outside onto the chilly dark street, Greid’s head popped up from his phone. His eyes brightened, mouth curving into a big smile that showed me all his sharp teeth.
“Hey.” He raised his arm to show me the plastic bag looped over his wrist. “I did a snack run on the way here in case you’re hungry after your shift.”
Pure, unbridled happiness filled my chest. Filled every part of me. When I reached him, I rose on my tiptoes and cupped his face as he bent down to kiss me. His sweet, smoky scent filled my nose, and the feel of his arm slipping under my coat to wrap around my waist and pull me closer made me shiver.
I couldn’t stop myself from kissing him a second time before pulling back, all the worries and insecurities that had plagued me all evening melting away. I didn’t care what anyone thought. I wanted Greid.
And when he pulled open the side of his coat so I could slip underneath and snuggle into him as we started walking home, everyone else and all their opinions became completely, utterly meaningless.
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