Chapitre 29: Twenty-Nine
I stopped at the nearest Kwik-E-Mart for a canvas shopping bag and a couple of lottery tickets.
I harbored no secret benevolence toward any living being that night. My therapist was a nutcase, and my best friend had taken off on a secret expedition without calling me. I happily grabbed two middle-aged men and relieved them of their burdensome existences.
I drank the first and took his money.
Blood from the second filled my Zip-lock bags. I whistled the Friends theme song while I siphoned him dry, then I took his money, too.
I pushed one of the bodies on top of the other. A little distraction in a murder investigation could go a long way. Middle-aged alleyway lovers. Cokehead. I set them on fire then packed the blood in the canvas bag and headed home.
I stopped by Will's apartment, but the door was still locked, and no one answered my door-pounding. I kept knocking until I was sure that he was gone and not just ignoring me in hope that I'd get bored and go away.
I kicked the door a few times, hoping to break in without too much effort, but the door held.
Will would call soon from Venice, surely. Or Kuala Lumpur. Or Melbourne.
I headed home.
Saint Namid was shuffling a stack of board-thick flash cards and teaching Humphrey color words in six languages when I arrived. Humphrey held "JAUNE" and gnawed the edge.
"Oh, hello!" Namid said. "Sorry we made such a mess."
"No problem," I said. "Kids are messy."
I helped her gather her flash cards and puppets and light-up games.
"Ice cream bar for the road?" I offered.
She grinned and nodded, and I fetched her one, noting that the blood bags in the freezer hadn't moved while I was away.
I took the ice cream bar to her. "Any big plans for the weekend?" I asked.
She made sure she was out of Humphrey's reach, then ripped off the wrapper, wrapped it around the popsicle stick, and said, "My roommate's throwing a kegger, so I'll probably haunt the library until it closes then sleep at my friend Marcy's apartment. Why? Need a babysitter?" Her eagerness was cute.
"Nope. Just curious," I said. "Envious, too. College days seem eons ago."
"Well, if you want, you can go to Jeanne's party then take my colonial history exam at eight the next morning."
"Wow, look at that—now my college days don't seem far enough away."
Namid laughed. "See you next week." She paused, then added, "Annie."
I smiled. "Have a good weekend, Namid."
She slung her bag over her shoulder with her ice cream-free hand and left.
I turned to Humphrey. "Well, kid—"
He gave a random squeal of happiness and almost fell over.
I rushed to steady him, laughing.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone