Текст книги "Berries and Greed"

Автор книги: Lily Mayne

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 33 страниц)

“I don’t think I want to change anything,” I told Greid with a smile. “I like it. It’s nice. Feels cosy.”

His face spikes flexed as he picked at the edge of the doorframe. “Oh. Okay. Good.” Taking a step back, he cleared his throat. “Okay, well, I’ll leave you to unpack—”

“What about the tour?”

“Oh.” He let out a squawk of nervous laughter, which kind of made me want to give him a hug. He seemed so tense. Shit, maybe he was already regretting this. “Sure, of course. You need to know where everything is, right?”

“We can do it later if you want,” I said cautiously, then gave him a tiny grin as I walked over. “Maybe you should go smoke a bit to chill out.”

He shot me a weak glare. “I’m chill. I’m totally chill.”

“Sure,” I said dryly, then swept my arm out in a grand gesture. “Well, lead the way, Greater.”

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Chapter Eleven

Beryl

After another disgruntled look, Greid turned and ambled down the corridor. I couldn’t stop looking around as I followed. The ceilings and doors were really tall, which made sense given the demiurgus’ height. Where there wasn’t framed artwork crammed onto every available inch of wall space, strange-looking tapestries hung, depicting scenes of vast cave networks with ceilings that glittered like they were studded with crystals and demiurgus dancing around a blue-flamed fire.

When we reached the second floor, I caught a glimpse of another tapestry that seemed to show some humans, but we continued descending the stairs before I could get a proper look. Once we were back on ground-level, Greid led me down a narrow corridor with only one door at the end. After opening it, he felt around for a light switch and descended the stairs.

Maybe I should’ve felt nervous going into a basement with him, but I just… didn’t. His vibe was completely non-threatening—dorky and shy and seemingly lacking the dominant trait that was rumoured to exist in all demiurgus. But then again, I’d had a pretty sheltered life, all things considered. Maybe I wasn’t as good at reading people as I thought I was.

Still, I was already in his house. It wasn’t like the basement was technically any more of a threat than the rest of the place. I followed him down and stopped at the bottom of the stairs when I realised the basement had been converted into a home gym. There was a stationary bike, treadmill and weight bench, with a set of dumbbells stacked neatly in their holder. A big TV dominated one wall, which all the equipment faced. My mouth twitched.

“You’re free to use it whenever you want,” Greid told me, crossing his arms and looking at the room with disinterest. “I used to work out a lot more, but”—he shrugged—“can’t be bothered much anymore.”

I chuckled, glancing at his long, lanky frame. “Well, you seem to still be in pretty good shape,” I said cheerfully, aiming for a platonic, friendly tone and not one that would make him feel uncomfortable.

He grunted. “Super high metabolism. A demiurgus thing.”

“I’ll probably use it,” I said, back to admiring the high-spec equipment. “I sometimes ducked out of our mandatory daily exercise sessions at the compound, but I like working out fairly often.”

I also liked food, and used to sneak a lot of snacks into my room, which was why I wasn’t as svelte or slim as all the others in the cult. But I was healthy—almost irritatingly healthy thanks to the cult’s strict diet—and I loved my body. It was soft and comfortable and mine. I liked my soft belly and wide hips. Life was far too fucking short to deny yourself things for the sake of someone else’s warped, singular idea of beauty.

Besides, it was no one’s fucking business what I looked like but my own. Aunt Violet had drilled that into me when I was a teenager, after one of the cult members made a sly comment about my “healthy appetite”. It was one of the few times I could remember seeing my aunt get truly angry. She’d yelled at the member, told me I was perfect, and had been tense and nervous in the days that followed, like she’d been waiting for the high priest to kick us both out.

“Well, you’ll get more use out of it than I do these days.” Greid turned for the stairs, so I followed him back up and out of the narrow corridor to the main hallway.

From there, he led me into the kitchen, which was as dark and cluttered as the rest of what I’d seen, but he flicked on the spotlights to illuminate the gleaming black marble countertops and copper fixtures. A huge silver fridge-freezer hummed in the corner, and a big butcher’s block dominated the centre of the space, the chopping board on its surface pitted with knife cuts.

Off the kitchen was the laundry room and a tiny downstairs bathroom. After Greid dutifully showed me both, we crossed the hall to the living room, which I immediately fell in love with. It was dark and cosy and full of interesting stuff, with a huge squishy sofa covered in blankets directly opposite an enormous wall-mounted flat-screen TV. The guy really loved his TVs.

A stained-glass window—slightly larger than some of the others—sent splashes of colour across the dark wooden floors and faded rug. Tucked right in the corner was some kind of enclosure. It looked like a little cubby, the entrance covered by a heavy burgundy curtain.

Before I could ask what it was, Greid cleared his throat and said, “Sorry, I meant to put some lamps in here yesterday but I, uh… I got distracted.”

“It’s okay.” I shrugged. “If you don’t like lamps, I’ll be fine.”

Subconsciously, I knew I was being as amenable as possible so he didn’t start regretting this. But at the same time, I didn’t want him to have to completely change his way of life for my benefit. And it wasn’t like people hadn’t read and done other things by candlelight for centuries.

“No, I’ll put some in here later.” Greid slipped past me back into the hall.

He gestured at a closed door opposite and coughed awkwardly. “That’s my bedroom in there.”

“Oh, okay.”

He didn’t move to open the door and show me, and I didn’t ask. After a few seconds of awkward silence, he blurted, “Sorry, it’s just… a total mess at the moment. But, uh, if you want to see, I can show you after I’ve cleaned up—”

“No, it’s okay.” I smiled up at him. “I don’t need to see it. It’s your space.”

Ducking his head, he walked back toward the stairs and up to the second floor. He showed me the guest bathroom and another unused bedroom, then sighed and opened a door to reveal an artist’s studio.

I stepped inside and looked around with interest at the deep-blue velvet chaise longue beneath the window, the empty easel and pottery wheel and the half-finished sculpture resting on a big wooden workbench.

“Is this where you work?” I asked, frowning when I couldn’t see any jewellery or equipment that he’d surely need.

“No.” He made a little grumbling sound, shifting in place, then huffed. “It was my ex’s studio.”

Oof. I subtly side-eyed him, expecting to see bitter resentment or desperate yearning twisting his features. But there was neither—just mild disdain as he gazed at the half-finished bust of a demiurgus with long, flowy hair.

“Oh, right,” I said carefully, then cleared my throat. “They uh, they were really talented.”

“Yeah,” he grumbled. “She was alright, I guess.”

Snorting a laugh, I turned to face him and couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Didn’t end well?”

“We wanted different things.” His face spikes twitched with embarrassment. “She said I was too introverted and boring and… yeah.”

“She called you boring?” I frowned. “That’s mean.”

“Okay, fine, maybe she didn’t use those exact words, but she implied it.” Greid sighed and shrugged. “Honestly, she wasn’t wrong. We didn’t fit. We tried to fit, but we just… didn’t. For various reasons.”

I nodded and stayed quiet, not wanting to pry any further. After a pause, Greid shifted again and gestured at the studio.

“I don’t keep it like this as, like, a shrine to her or anything. I just don’t need the room and I really can’t be fucked to clean it all up.”

When I glanced up at him with a wry smile, I could tell he was being honest. I’d only known him a very short time, but I was already pretty certain that Greid made a point of doing as little as possible. In all things. I was sure laziness would annoy a lot of people, but I found it kind of endearing, mainly because he was just being himself and not really putting up any kind of front. And it wasn’t like his not bothering to empty this room affected me in any way.

Nor was it my business if he actually, secretly wasn’t totally over his ex.

“Next room?” I asked cheerfully, turning for the door.

Greid followed me out and up the stairs to the third floor, where my bedroom was located. He showed me the linen closet, then walked right past another closed door to hurry up the stairs.

“Wait.” He froze as I pointed at the door. “What about that room?”

His yellow eyes swung over to it before he cringed. “Just another closet,” he said quickly, then turned to keep going up the staircase.

I eyed the door as I slowly followed him. Okay, now I was ridiculously curious, and a little bit nervous, but I couldn’t demand he show me, and I wasn’t going to invade his privacy by sneaking a look later when he wasn’t around. I wasn’t.

Although, he hadn’t explicitly told me the closet was off-limits…

No, Beryl! I trudged up the stairs behind him, absently watching the tip of his tail as it swished back and forth under the hem of his enormous sweater. Don’t be rude. He’s allowed some privacy. He’s letting you live in his house, for fuck’s sake! Don’t screw it up immediately by being nosy.

The only thing at the top of the staircase was a tiny, dark corridor leading to a single door. Greid opened it, revealing a large, airy attic space with a huge jeweller’s workbench taking up most of the room. Stuff was crammed onto every inch of its surface except for a single clear space in front of a wooden stool. Tools hung in easy reach from the rafters by thin strips of leather.

There were lots of bits of machinery I didn’t really understand, and a big computer monitor sitting on a desk under one of the windows, but what really grabbed my attention was the display case in one corner. I made a beeline for it as Greid trailed behind me.

“So, um, yeah, this is where I work—”

“Holy crap, you made these?” I interrupted, staring wide-eyed at the expensive-as-shit looking jewellery on display.

Huge jewels were nestled in delicate black metal shaped into vines and flowers. They hooked seamlessly onto thin chains of varying lengths, so that they’d rest neatly on someone’s chest or throat when being worn. Thick cuffs were made up of hundreds of twisted lengths of metal with tiny gems interwoven through the strands. Sets of rings connected by thin chains were studded with jewels held in place by prongs that looked like demiurgus claws.

“Well yeah.” Greid huffed self-consciously. “It is my job.”

“Yeah, but I mean… you’re so talented.” And this had to be how he could afford to live in this part of the city. I bet this stuff cost a fortune.

“Do you exclusively make demiurgus jewellery?” I asked with interest, because I could tell these were all designed with demiurgus clients in mind. The black metal, the bright gems, the organic aesthetic.

“Mostly, but I’m also stocked in a jeweller that caters more to humans.” Greid opened a long drawer in the display case to reveal more necklaces, rings and earrings that were made of a lighter metal and still clearly demiurgus-designed, but less wild and organic. More fitting to human tastes.

“They’re beautiful.” I gestured at the main display. “All of them. Is this stuff waiting to be shipped to clients?”

“Oh, no, this is just”—Greid shut the drawer with a shrug—“stuff I made. Designs I came up with. Some of them are on my website for sale, but these are, like, what I make when business is quiet and I have some time. But the hours put in means they’re, uh, pretty expensive.”

“They should be fucking expensive,” I declared, peering down at them again. “They’re gorgeous.”

Greid fidgeted beside me, long fingers picking at that loose thread on his sweater again. “You could—I mean, it’s all just sitting up here. You can pick something you want to keep. If you want. You don’t have to.”

“I’d love to,” I told him, making sure he could hear the sincerity in my voice so I didn’t offend him when I added, “but I’m not gonna take something for free. When I have a job, I’ll save up and buy something from you.”

He winced, looking embarrassed. “Beryl, they’re, like, really expensive.”

“Okay, well then maybe I can commission you to make me something small. Like a ring.” I chuckled. “I’ve never worn jewellery in my life, so I don’t think I’m going to want anything big.”

“I’ll make you a ring,” he said quickly, glancing at me before averting his eyes. “Maybe green jewels.”

“You’ll make it when I can pay you for it,” I told him firmly, wanting to grin when he looked back at me with wide eyes, his throat bobbing.

He was cute.

“Well, thank you for the tour.” I looked around again. “Your house is really lovely. I already feel comfortable here.”

When I grinned at him, he slowly grinned back, revealing all his sharp yellowish-white teeth. Ears giving a pleased flutter, he said, “Good. I’m glad. But, um… If you don’t mind, I’d kinda like to go take a shower.” He winced. “I didn’t have time this morning.”

I laughed, picturing him almost collapsing at the top of the compound’s stairs. “Sure. I’ll go unpack and hang out in my room for a while.”

“You can hang out wherever,” he said quickly as we left the workshop and made our way back downstairs. “You don’t have to stay in your room. And if you’re hungry, there’s plenty of food—Okay, there’s some food, but we can order dinner later. Soon. Whenever you want.”

“Okay,” I said easily.

What I really wanted to do was turn around and tell him that he didn’t have to try and be so accommodating all the time. That I didn’t want him to worry so much. But I’d been here, what, an hour at the most? So it was only natural for him to be feeling unsettled and awkward. I was sure we’d relax around each other in time.

Well, he’d relax around me. I already felt pretty relaxed around him.

We parted ways on the third floor, Greid thumping down the stairs while I went into my room and closed the door, more for his benefit than mine. I looked around my new bedroom and grinned, but now that I was alone, a tiny hint of panic started to churn in my stomach.

I pressed a hand to my belly. I was actually here. I’d actually left the cult.

I was actually living with a big, dorky demiurgus called Greid who got high all the time and made jewellery for a living.

Supressing a nervous laugh, I walked over to the window and fiddled with the wrought iron latch to push it open. My shoulders slumped in relief when all I saw was the row of townhouses opposite. We were too far from the hill for it to be visible over the city. Thank god I wouldn’t have to look at it every day.

I peered down at the street below. A young demiurgus couple in similar Victorian-esque black dresses were walking down the opposite side with arms linked, one of them carrying a big, fancy shopping bag and the other clutching a cardboard holder with two takeout cups. They looked like the ones from the coffee place on the next street over. I wondered if Greid would want to go there in the morning. Or if I’d be brave enough to go by myself.

I left the window open and went over to retrieve my suitcases, heaving the bigger of the pair onto the chest at the end of the bed. I took my time unpacking my clothes and folding them neatly before stowing them in the dresser, or hanging them in the armoire.

It was nice—and exciting—to listen to the sounds of the quiet city street outside, and the faint bustle of traffic from the nearby road. It was all just right there. I could go out whenever I wanted, without having to get the high priest’s permission and wrangle one or two other cult members into joining me. Most of them felt uncomfortable in the outside world, so only a few of them ever agreed, and only rarely. Robbie and Nancy would sometimes be willing to go out, but only for a little while, and Violet was usually too busy with work. Plus, she was getting older now, and those stairs really were brutal.

I spent a long time carefully arranging my skincare products on the vanity just as I liked them, then carried my bath products into the big, fancy bathroom, admiring the huge tub and giant glass shower enclosure with a rainfall head high above.

Even though I’d unpacked at a leisurely pace, savouring it, I was still done pretty quickly. I really didn’t have a lot of stuff.

That’ll change soon, I thought with determination. Surely I’d be able to find some kind of job. I didn’t care what it was. Now that I didn’t have to worry about making rent or not starving to death, it didn’t feel quite so impossible as it had before.

I glanced around the room, then at the door. Surely Greid wasn’t still in the shower, but maybe he wanted some time alone. Walking over to the bed, I sat down and bounced a few times to test out the mattress. It felt soft but not too soft, and the sheets were a warm, cosy fabric that I petted for a few seconds.

Spotting the TV remote on the nightstand, I grinned and lunged for it. Greid would have way more channels than we got at the compound. There, we were only allowed to watch some fancy arts channels that showed documentaries about the contributions the demiurgus had made to the arts—their paintings and sculptures and architecture. Or recordings of hours-long demiurgus operas with their strange, otherworldly music that I, quite frankly, didn’t overly enjoy.

But as I went to turn the TV on, I hesitated, glancing at the door again. I kind of… wanted to watch with Greid. Have him show me what he enjoyed. Tell me which shows were the popular ones that everyone went wild for.

And that was what I was here for, right? To hang out with him? To be his friend? Well, I was gonna damn well do it. He was letting me live here—free of charge for the time being—so I wasn’t just going to hide away in my room when all he’d wanted was to have someone around so he felt less lonely.

God, I was getting soft, because the urge to find him and give him a big hug made me squirm. I wasn’t a very touchy-feely person. At least, I didn’t think I was, but maybe that was because I’d never felt close enough to anyone except Violet. Besides, I was pretty sure Greid would stiffen up and turn into a babbling mess if I lunged at him for a hug. Just because he’d invited me here to be his roommate didn’t mean he wanted me to touch him.

Making a decision, I set down the remote and rose from the bed. After opening my door, I peeked my head out and went still, listening for any sounds in the house. I couldn’t hear anything. I was guessing Greid had his own ensuite, and maybe I was too high up to be able to hear his shower, but surely he’d come out of his room soon.

Padding over varnished hardwood and worn rugs with my bare feet, I resolutely ignored the mysterious closet door and wandered all the way down the winding staircase to the first floor. Then I stopped, listening again. Still nothing.

The living room door was open, so I headed in there, feeling a little uncomfortable, like I was a cat burglar skulking around someone’s home. But the moment I stepped into the living room, I relaxed. There was something so oddly comforting about the dark walls and crowded shelves and surfaces. It was a little dimmer in here now that the sun was dipping behind the rows of townhouses, but there was still enough light for me to see fine.

I eyed that little cubby in the corner of the room again, but decided I wouldn’t go snooping for at least a few days, mainly in case Greid suddenly appeared from his bedroom across the hall and caught me.

The giant squishy couch looked so inviting that I found myself heading that way, skirting around a coffee table cluttered with candles and books and loose sheets of paper. And an ashtray half filled with the burned-out remnants of what looked like dried leaves, crumbly and paper-thin.

Sitting down on the couch—shit, it was comfy—I immediately drew one of the blankets over my lap. Then I lifted it to my nose and sniffed. Quickly jerking it back down, I glanced at the door sheepishly. Why had I done that?

They did smell good—that same warm, sweet scent that had been clinging to Greid’s clothes. Or maybe it was just him. I suddenly pictured him curled up on the sofa under a mound of blankets, lazily smoking and watching TV through bleary eyes.

The image was surprisingly… intimate. But I supposed I’d be seeing it for real soon. I hoped I would. I hoped Greid felt comfortable with me here. Only time would tell.

Curling my legs up under the blanket, I got settled to wait for Greid, ready to truly begin my unexpected friendship with the big, awkward demiurgus.

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