Purgatory

“You’ll never change what my father thinks of me.”

 

 

“Your mother would be a good place to start. He took her to his bed. There has to be a reason he did.”

 

“That was a weakness.”

 

“Yes and therefore springs a hope,” I tell him using the voice Gracie gifted me, but I feel the Jane in me when I say, “And the doppelganger we killed? He raped and murdered innocent humans, making authorities believe the serial killer was a human. This kind of behavior puts my race in more jeopardy than I do when I double up. That doppelganger bent ancient rules to feed his perversions. And others have done so for several hundred years, damning a race that doesn’t even know we exist. Righting that is a purpose.”

 

My body roils as I lay beside the wendigo on Gracie’s bed.

 

“Truth be told, I’d like nothing better than to be able to enjoy the best of both worlds with you,” he says, and covers a yawn with his long stick-like fingers. “So I get it. That will never be possible if there’s not a better world below the sewer drain. But I’m afraid trying to reason with my father and your elders will be impossible.”

 

“Exactly.” I’m smiling now, although it must look garishly revolting. “In which case, we move on to purpose B.”

 

Gaire’s left eyebrow raises. A smile tickles the underside of one cheek. “Having sex with every human above the sewer drain, one night at a time, while husbands all over the world think their wife is dreaming in bed beside them?”

 

“Well, sure, that,” I say with a giggle, “and kickin’ us some Down Under ass, until somebody wants to listen.”

 

“Going rogue?”

 

“Going rogue,” I answer.

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