Sinners and Saints by Jennifer Roberson

Author:Jennifer Roberson [Roberson, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DAW
Published: 2021-03-09T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Cleaned of blood, the young woman’s face nonetheless remained bruised and swollen. Kelly had washed her hair. Water-darkened, it lay forward of her shoulders, drying naturally. From scalp to the ends of her hair, even damp, waviness took precedence. As I recalled from the cell phone light in the breezeway, the portions of hair unbloodied were a tawny blonde.

She was seated on the couch, where Kelly had guided her. She’d been given water and a toasted bagel, which wasn’t much in the way of food but was fast. She ate it slowly, taking very small bites of torn off pieces, and I realized the possibility was good that a few teeth had been loosened from the blow that damaged the side of her face. My black t-shirt was of course baggy on her, the jean legs were rolled up, and some kind of utility cord doubled as a belt. She was barefoot.

While one side of her jaw was swollen with its complementary puffy eye, from the other side she had an oddly attractive look. Not classically beautiful as far as I could see, but an arresting face with a slightly straight nose bridge. And in the undamaged pale blue eye, I saw a strengthening clarity of purpose. Her age was indeterminant. Anywhere on the timeline between twenty and thirty, I felt.

Kelly looked at Remi and me, saw the reluctance in our expressions, the helplessness. I had no clue how a man began asking a woman about a rape. Cops were prepared; my dad had received specialized training. Me? I was just a guy, and it had certainly never been something I needed to address.

Seated sideways on the couch beside the young woman, Kelly ran a gentle hand across her back, began to rub in careful circles. “Can you tell us?” she asked. “Do you know his name?”

Even if she told us, I wasn’t sure the information would help. We’d certainly try to protect her, but despite my familiarity with the pantheons in mythology and Remi’s knowledge of specific deities of many cultures, there was a fair chance we wouldn’t have the abilities or the means to ward her against a god. Or ward ourselves, for that matter.

The stranger shook her head. I didn’t know if that meant she couldn’t, or wouldn’t.

“Can you tell us your name?”

The battered woman looked hard at Kelly, re-examined Remi. She was not quite at ease with them, which certainly was understandable. The look in her eye lost its piercing quality when she looked at me, and the set of her mouth softened. I had saved her. I wouldn’t say she truly trusted me, but she did acknowledge my help.

Still, she shook her head and did not offer her name. Instead, she repeated an earlier declaration. “I spurned him.”

Mary Jane’s voice was tight. “You can tell a man ‘no,’” she said. “You do not have to consent. He is not allowed to assault you because you rejected him.”

“He cursed me.”

“Words,” Kelly said. “Only words. They don’t affect you.

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