But the sound of my voice seemed to tip the balance. The dog bit its owner, tiny white teeth disappearing into the meat of her fingers, exposed gums meeting flesh as blood welled up.
I fled, backing up, moving to the far end of the platform. There was nothing I could do.
Only distancing myself.
“Man,” a guy standing near me said. He smiled a little, “You always wonder about those owners who put their dogs in little jackets.”
I couldn’t bring myself to react, nor respond.
No doubt in my mind. This was our metaphorical radiation.
I could only hope it wore off soon.
I caught the train, not in the direction of home, but the University.
■
Crows in nearby trees called out as I walked down the broad footpath. Taunting me. Maybe threatening me.
The buildings were old, or as old as buildings got, in a country that only dated back a couple hundred years. Stone, stately, majestic.
The Sphinx’s domain.
I’d received no help from Fell or the Lord, but I did need to reach out, and this was the only place I could think of to start looking. Problem was, the university was probably two or three times the size of Jacob’s Bell, especially when the various residences and student buildings were taken into account.
It was a starting point, but it was damn nebulous as starting points went.
Well, the most obvious solution was often the correct one.
I headed straight for the visitors center, entering a building with a stone exterior and great white pillars framing the glass turnstile door.
Students milled this way and that, most in winter gear. A desk at the back had staff waiting, but it also had lines.
My eye fell on the table with campus calendars, and the two computers that stood on either side. Each computer, it seemed, was set up with a basic search engine for campus information.
Isadora, I tried.
Nothing.
I looked for a list of professors instead.
Phixopolous, Isadora, Professor of Ethics
Not even trying to mask it. She apparently wasn’t concerned about other practitioners finding her.
I dug a piece of paper from my pocket and wrote down the name and then found the building for the Ethics department, and a map to get my bearings.
I left the visitors center and headed for the building in question. Odds were good that she wouldn’t be there, but that was ideal.
Trouble presented itself before I was halfway there.
One at first, then – I saw him wave over some others out of the corner of my eye. A whole group of college-aged guys peeled away from a cluster in the open area just beside the university center. Following me. They moved in twos and threes, but they formed a general group of about eight or so. The connections between them and me marked their interest in me.
A few seconds after I’d noted the connection, some girls joined the group. I got a glimpse of them all as I rounded a corner, doing my utmost to keep from tipping them off.
The girls hadn’t joined the group after all. Instead, they walked on the very periphery of it. Each girl was independent, while the guys were a herd.
The Sphinx’s people?
No. The connection seemed fairly feeble, as such things went. As far as I could tell, without looking over my shoulder and letting them know I was on to them, they had no tie to the ethics department I was headed to.
“Rose,” I said, under my breath. “People following me.”
“What can I do?”
“Get a feel for them. Hop to any nearby reflections, see if you can’t get a better look at what I’m up against, come back and fill me in?”
“I can.”
It was a long walk, one that gave them chances to catch up. The girls were pulling ahead, more athletic in general, more given to the pursuit.
“I don’t know who or what they are,” Rose said.
“I’m wondering if they’re just susceptible to whatever effect is sticking to me after that talk with Pauz. Drunk people, more in tune with their baser instincts…”
“I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think that’s it. I don’t really have any senses, outside of sight. I can look at them, and they’re boys from college, talking, bumping shoulders, joking around, walking with arms around each other’s shoulders. Some drinking surreptitiously.”
“But?”
“But… I feel like there’s an energy there. I don’t know if I feel it or if I’m seeing stuff I can’t put my thumb on. Like, they’ve got a vibe, good looking, they’re high-energy, naturally outgoing people, and they get people swept up in their attitude?”
“And the girls?” I asked. I didn’t even care that some people gave me quizzical looks. The guy talking to himself.
“Girls?”
“Yeah, Rose. There are girls there too.”
“Be right back,” Rose said. She sounded as if she were saying it while in the process of making her exit.
“Okay.”
A few seconds later, Rose reported in. “Yeah, there are girls.”
“I know there are girls.”
“They’re more predatory somehow? They remind me of Ellie.”
“Our older cousin,” I said. Rose’s comment was on the mark. From what I remembered of her, Ellie could play at being charming, if she wanted money or favors. Ninety percent of the time, however, she defaulted to a low intensity glare, like she hated you and hated life, and she needed no excuse to switch to a more intense attitude of ‘I hate you and I’ll hurt you if you get in my way.’ No filters, no impulse control.
“They’re with the boys, but not with them. Yeah, they’re the ones you want to worry about. Not quite so harmless looking as the boys.”
“The ‘boys’ didn’t look harmless to me,” I said.
“It’s part of that vibe I get from them, I dunno. Like, the air they give off. The friendly, slightly immature sort of guy who wouldn’t hurt you.”
“Yeah?” I asked. “You’re, like, saying ‘like’ a lot. Twice that I remember, in the last minute.”
“Am I? I am. Fuck,” Rose said. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Try to hold off regressing to your hormonal teenage years,” I said. “Because I’m pretty sure they’re closing the distance.”
Was there a point where I’d need to break into a run?
Could I outrun them?
I wasn’t sure what I was dealing with. Nice guys with a more pleasant sort of energy, and more dangerous girls?
I was in the middle of trying to figure out a game plan, when I saw someone raise their hand. A small wave.
No.
A guy I didn’t know, heavy and sporting the sort of beard that had been grown for length more than style, and a girl I did recognize. Tiffany. Alexis’ latest rescue, the artist who’d put together the gift I’d given Conquest.
She said goodbye to the guy and walked over to intercept me.
“Hey, Blake. I didn’t know you went to University,” she said. She smiled.
“I don’t,” I said. I stopped in my tracks, knowing how dangerous it was. “Hey, can we talk while we walk? Or brisk stride? I’m in a hurry.”
“Um, sure,” she said.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Meeting someone?” she asked.