"I like what you've done with the room." Elias floated up to the starry ceiling, his face an exhibition of longing, and all of a sudden it overwhelmed her, suffocating like a fire blanket: his loneliness ... a feeling she recognized. She had felt lonely too, still did, many times, and yet, she had Lowie, her friends, colleagues ... whereas Elias had no one.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"I was thinking ... it would be easier if you would bring the kid." He swept over to the skylight, turning his broad-shouldered back to her. He tilted his head and watched the sky.

"Excuse me?" She stepped closer, peering up to see what he saw. A clouded sky. Not a star shone through. Desolate.

"Your son?" He turned towards her in a quick movement.

Startled, she recoiled. "You can't be serious?" The way he had his arms folded over his chest, he looked rather serious, but that was not the point. "Do you actually think I'd willingly submit him to your cruelty?"

"Believe me, it would be less cruel than this. Children are more flexible. Think about it. How many of them grow up continuing to fear the bogeyman? None. How many of them do not fall asleep eventually? It's not that big a deal for children, all part of growing up."

"You don't actually believe that, do you? Is that what you tell yourself?"

Under his soot-rimmed eye, a muscle twitched. He inhaled deeply as if to calm himself. "Listen! I'll keep him awake and scared for what? Thirty minutes, one hour tops. My belly full. The kid gets to sleep. There's nothing to it." He shrugged as if to him it really was nothing, reminding her of some mobster who casually proposed two different ways to die to his trembling, tied-up victim.

Anger sparked in her chest. It was bad enough that she had to deal with him, there was no way in hell that she would put her son through his abuse. Determined, she hopped on the bed and planted herself crosslegged in the middle. "You're not frightening my kid."

"Selina, I'm telling you the truth. It will be less traumatic for him than it is for you."

"It's not traumatic for me. It's a picnic," she fibbed, ignoring the knowledge that he could read fear from her aura like she could read temperatures from a thermometer. "You're just looking for easy prey."

The muscle under his eye twitched again. "Maybe. Like I told you, I need to eat. It's as simple as that. I get no other pleasure from this, so the easier it can be done the better."

"Well, I'm right here and Lowie is not, so get it over with. I'm your easiest option."

Elias lifted his eyes to the sky once more and let out an audible sigh. "You better not stab me with a toothbrush."

"You better not give me any ideas."

"At this point, I kind of expect you to discard any idea that comes from my mouth, same as you refused my very sensible suggestion just now. I'm not gonna lie ... I suppose I would've been disappointed if you hadn't. Still ..." He stared at her for a few moments, then rolled his shoulders and shook his arms as if preparing for a run.

The stuff of nightmares slipped from the rags that swirled around his body, a body that became noticeably stronger, alluring even. Sometimes, a glimpse of skin and well-defined muscle protruded from the rags, all of it covered in a thin layer of grime. Fair hair curled across his chest. She bit her lip, scorning herself for not only noticing but her body reacting to it as well. Damn hot flushes. "Are you a blonde? It's difficult to tell beneath all that soot, but you're not as dark as you want me to believe, are you?"

His upper lip curled into half a grin. "Enough, I'm hungry. Let's take it nice and easy today, shall we? What ..." He leaned closer, his eyes hardening as the burning question was about to pop, "... was your silliest childhood fear?"

And zap ... Selina's brain produced an image. "The witch puppet," she gasped.

She hadn't thought about the witch puppet for a long time. As a kid, she had owned a small puppet theater and had loved playing with it, but at night, when the lights were out, it sat in the shadows of her bedroom and she had dreaded the moment the witch puppet would come alive. "Selina Sardi, you think you've outgrown me?" The wart on her chin bulged dangerously as she spoke, the patch in front of her eyes was bloodsoaked. Was she a pirate or a witch, or a pirate witch? It didn't matter, for she was vicious and almighty, and at that moment, Selina was that trembling little kid again. The fist around her throat clenched tighter and Selina was breathless with fear.

"Poor, little Selina. Playing alone again? Where's your daddy? Passed out on the couch? Again?" The witch puppet moved close enough to hiss into Selina's ears. "I'd pass out on the couch too if I had to live with a whiny brat like you. You're so needy, it's pathetic. No wonder your dad is always tired. He'll run away soon, just like your mom, mark my words. Mark my words!" As the air left Selina's lungs and her shoulders sagged under the weight of the witch's words, the witch puppet cackled with delight.

It was over quickly. Before she knew it, she was rubbing her throat and watching the last of the witch puppet and her nasty insults disappear in Elias' plush mouth. As he covered up with his scarf, a sense of calm enveloped her, as if he truly ate her fears and they were gone now.

"That was better, wasn't it?" Elias studied her with questioning eyes.

She struggled to get a grip on the situation. Was the bogeyman trying to be nice? Tonight had been easier than she expected. He had made it easier for her. "Did you get enough?"

"I got plenty."

"You're not helping me if you don't get enough. You need to get strong. Strong enough, so you can leave." Did she really have trouble saying it? She almost felt rude, talking about wanting him gone. But she wanted him gone. She definitely wanted him gone.

"I got plenty for tonight."

"Five out of seven then?"

"Two more nights. You'll make it. As you said, it's a picnic." His hairy thumb curled over her hand and caressed it softly. She stared at their joined hands, mesmerized by the sensuality of his small gestures, perplexed at her reluctance to withdraw. Her thumb responded to his, drawing the same languid circles over the back of his paw, and his gaze dropped to their fondling hands as well. "Lowie is a lucky kid. You're a great mom."

"How do you know his name?" she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She hadn't always been so sure she was a great mom.

"You did scream it a few times those first nights."

"Yes, I would have. That was ..." She recalled the anguish of the first nightmares Elias had evoked and looked up at him, not sure what to find there, unable to name the conflicting emotions in her own chest. "... really scary. So scary it was painful."

"I know." His free paw curled around her waist and tugged her body till it rested against his. Not an apology but an acknowledgment ... and a hug? All so calm and gentle that she found it impossible to act on the subsiding undercurrent of anger in her belly.

"What are you doing?" She murmured against his skin, struggling to come to terms with the fact that her body was happy exactly where it was. Her face had fallen through an opening in his rags; her cheek now rested against a strong, warm pectoral and still, she had zero inclination to pull away.

"I'm not sure. I think I'm holding you." His paws rubbed her back in soothing strokes. She closed her eyes and breathed him in. His scent carried her away to a crackling campfire under a cold, starry night.

"Is this standard bogeyman treatment?" She plucked at the curly hair on his chest, lightly at first but with sharp twists next, till she heard him suck in a breath above her head, and every once in a while, she stopped to feel the pleasurable warmth of his skin underneath.

"Nothing's been standard since you burst into this room."

What was that supposed to mean? She would rather not dwell on that. "Have you always been a bogeyman?"

"I like to think so. It's easier not to think about life before."

WC 1467 words
TWC 11452 words