Free Blackout by Rob Thurman

fuck is a Nepenthe spider?”
    Niko removed his shoes, moved up farther in the bed, and closed his eyes. “Your turn, Goodfellow,” he murmured, before falling asleep between that breath and the next. He hadn’t gotten under the covers or beat the pillow at least once to soften it up. He was just here and then gone. It was sort of … Zen, I guess. I am awake; now I am asleep. I’ll chant later. Now that—all that—felt vaguely familiar too. This Niko—my brother, shit, denial was beginning to fail me—was as ninja/samurai on the inside as well as the out. How’d you become one of those these days? Climb a mountain and live in a cave for ten years? Take a class in an online school of dubious accreditation? Who knew?
    Goodfellow had taken his foot and scooted a chair over so he could prop his legs up, ankles crossed. “I need to keep the weight off it,” he explained. “There was no doubt some sort of mustard-spawned Ebola on that fork you stabbed me with.” I stared back at him, wholly unimpressed. “Which,” he continued, “might have a civilized being slobbering heartfelt apologies in my direction.” The sly green eyes fixed on me in anticipation. When nothing was forthcoming, he tapped his chest. “If you’re confused, this is my direction. You don’t need a compass, kid.”
    “You’re a monster,” I pointed out, as he seemed to keep forgetting.
    “I’m a monster? That’s rather … interesting.” The interest wasn’t the amusing kind as the cocky smile faded and the eyes darkened. “How about we agree that I’m not human, but not necessarily a monster either.” He folded his hands across his stomach. “Oh, and before I forget, I do have to tell you that no matter how incredibly hot you find me, I am in a monogamous relationship.”
    That overrode any monster issues instantly. “Dude!”
    He grinned. “It’s simply my standard disclaimer. In the past you have never tried to ‘get with this,’ as they say. Although you have seen me naked. You couldn’t look me in the eye for days.”
    “Dude!”
    “I can’t be held responsible for your shame at your own shortcomings or your puritanical sexual mores.” The grin was wider, definitely wider and considerably more evil. “Now, do you want to order pizza or Chinese?”
    I decided I wanted to go to bed. The hell with the food. The hell with the Nep … Nef … whatever fucking kind of amnesia spider it was. I’d find all that out from Niko or from them both when Niko was awake. Goodfellow made the monsters from the beach seem like one tiny ladybug I’d crushed under my boot. They didn’t scare me. He did. My curiosity could wait and so could my hunger. It was only as I’d kicked off my own boots and crawled under the covers of the other bed, fully clothed—very fully clothed—that I realized I’d never gotten an answer as to why one of them was keeping watch. Was it to make sure I didn’t take off, or something else? Considering how easily Niko had taken me down, I had the uneasy suspicion it was not my sneaking off they were worried about.

4

    “I don’t want to go back to New York,” I repeated, spearing a sausage patty with my fork. A patty to go with my petty, and I was feeling petty.
    Goodfellow had one eye on that very same fork, smart of him, and one on the waitress with more breasts than she, God, and her bra knew what to do with. “I am sorry,” he told her, “but despite your wealth of exquisite mammary tissue, I am in a monogamous relationship. Disappointing for you, I know, but I have faith that after a grieving process, you’ll learn to live again.”
    “I heard you the first time,” Niko snapped at me before going after Goodfellow, “and, Robin, let the woman refill your orange juice and get on with her day, as bereaved as she is over your unavailable status, all right?” He began to whip his granola and yogurt into more of a froth than was called for. The Zen Niko was having issues. I was one of those