Acrylic Bones

It had been more stunned disbelief than actual, rational thought that drove Sean Penbeaurogh to get back into a vehicle with Robin Albrick. Robin had dropped Sean back at his cabin, wished him a good night, and driven off to who-knows-where. The boy had seemed exhausted, and slightly in pain. Sean had noticed him wincing as he drove, and more than once the other boy had rubbed a palm across his chest. Throughout the drive, he had been casting glances at the boy, who was once again pale-skinned and brown-eyed. When the boy had changed back, Sean did not know. One moment, he had been something straight from a nightmare, and the next he had been a regular teenage boy.

But it had been real.

He could still taste the tartness on his tongue, like biting into a lemon. It was the strangest sensation, like rubber-banding awakenedness. He couldn't quite believe that it had actually happened, but he knew it had. It hadn't been a nightmare, as much as Sean wanted it to have been. He remembered the look in the monster's eyes, the insane light that had shone out of them.

But it hadn't been scary, Sean realized. Or, he corrected quickly, he hadn't been scared of Robin. Even when the boy had turned, even when the light had appeared in his eyes. Even when the boy could have ripped his throat out with a single motion. Even when they were driving home, sitting inches from one another in the thick silence of the cars humming. He hadn't been scared of the other boy. In fact, he had felt more fear around stray dogs or men who approached him on the street.

It was what he had felt inside himself that truly scared him. It was like a tidal system in his stomach. One that had lain dormant inside of him for years - and had begun turning when Robin ... changed. Like some kind of flood gates had been thrown open, and the waters had begun to flow. It wasn't fear. It was hunger. It washed every other thought from his mind, and it had consumed him. He had frozen, locked numbly in place by his own powerlessness. By the simple, primal need that had gripped him.

He had been ravenous.

Sean turned over in bed, feeling his light blankets twist around his naked body. Afternoon sunlight streamed in through his curtained windows, making the wood-paneled bedroom of the cabin glow softly. It was warm against his skin, and Sean sighed quietly at the pleasant sensation. Swallowing, he wrapped his arms more tightly around his pillow and raised himself up on the headboard to a position somewhere between lying and kneeling.

Opening his crystal blue eyes, he blinks once in the light and turns back towards the window. Sitting up in bed, and allowing the thin coverings to fall to his waist, he raises a hand and rubs the back of his wrist against one eyes, and then the next. Yawning, he glances at the fluorescent, red-numbered clock on the bedside table.

"Shit," he mumbles, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms above his head. "Almost noon." Another yawn escapes his pink lips, prying his tired jaw wide.

A knock sounds against the door, and he turns his head towards it, his eyebrows lowering slightly.

"Come in?" he calls questioningly.

The door creaks open, and his mother's kind-eyed face peers around the edge. She gives him a dazzling smile on her entering. Her curly, dark-blonde hair is almost dripping it is so damp, and it falls past her neck in strands and knots. Her blue eyes sparkle, though, as she pushes open the door and enters his room.

"Morning, angel." she says, walking over and seating herself on the end of the bed. She smooths her hands down the front of her flower-print dress, her eyes glancing down for a moment and then rising to meet his once again. "How did you sleep?"

"Terribly." Sean answers truthfully, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand.

"Aw, sorry dear." she says, ruffling one hand roughly through his messy blonde hair. She gives him a winning smile and rises to her feet. Turning towards the door, she reaches for the handle and hesitates. Sean watches carefully as she glances back over one shoulder at him. "Dear ... is everything ... alright?"

"Yeah." he answers too quickly. "Everything's fine. Just had a bit of a rough night last night."

"You and - Robin, was it? - don't seem to get along very well. Maybe you should stop seeing him."

Sean hesitated for a moment, and then nodded in agreement. Swallowing once, he spoke meaningfully. "Yeah, you're right. He's a good guy, we just ... have a lot of differences, I guess. I won't bring him around here any more."

His mother steps quickly beside the bed and leans down to give him a kiss on the top of the head. Her hair tickles his face as she does so, but Sean doesn't mind. As she leaves the room, her words seem to catch in the wood panels and hang there. "Thank-you, angel. I have a bad feeling about that one."

Sean sits in bed for another moment, staring down at the white sheets, and then rolls onto his feet. Raising his muscular arms and running his long fingers through his hair, he breathes out into the cool morning air. "Yeah." he breathes, "Me, too."

Rolling his shoulders and twisting his neck from side to side, Sean pulls open the drawers of the small wooden cabinet just to the left of his bed. He dresses quickly; nothing fancy today. Jeans and a button-up flannel shirt. The weather, he decides, is cold enough to justify it. Pulling one hand through his tangled blonde hair, he pulls open the door to his room and walks out into the living area. His mother is in the kitchen, lost in her cooking, but she glances up as he slips his shoes on and makes for the front door.

"Where are you going, dear?" she asks, going quickly back to her sizzling pan of whatever was for breakfast. It smelled like bacon, and the smell instantly made Sean's mouth start to water.

"I'm heading into town." he said, before he could get too hungry. "There's someone I'd like to talk to."

"Sean," his mother said in exasperation, the spatula in her hand clattering against the counter as she dropped it. He could tell she was vexed by the turn of her mouth, and the irritation in her deep blue eyes. "Didn't we just talk about-"

"Not him." Sean says quickly, holding up one hand to stop her. Normally, the action would have gotten him 'the look', but today she just shut her mouth and raised her eyebrows, nodding slightly. He watched her irritation melt like snow in the sunlight.

"Someone else you've met?"

"Kind of."

He knew the mother radar was going off, and he lets out a small sigh, leaning against the open doorframe. Crossing his arms, he settled into the fact that he was going to have to explain. The whole room smelled like pine sap and cooking bacon, a pleasant aroma. Light spilled through the gauze-draped windows, illuminating the wooden room.

"I met her at the beer store." he admitted. Immediately, he saw his mother's eyebrows raise, and he rolled over her next question before she had the chance to ask it. "She works there. Her name was ... Sophie May, I think. Everyone seems to know her."

His mother smiled slightly, the way that mothers do when they are trying to hide amusement and want you to know it. Nodding to herself, she waved him away with one ovenmitt-clad hand.

"Go have your date with the girl everyone but your mother has met." she said, her voice thick with chastising amusement. "She better be good - for you to miss my Sunday bacon breakfast."

Grasping the doorhandle in one hand, Sean drags the door shut behind him and walks out into the late-morning sunlight. Just before the door shuts completely, he calls back over one shoulder.

"It's not a date!"

The door slams shut, but he can still hear his mother's disbelieving laughter.

Jogging across the small clearing and taking the stone steps three at a time, one hand grasping the wooden handrail, he hops around the front bumper of his car and clicks open the door. Just as he is about to step into the vehicle, a slight cough sounds behind him.

Whirling, Sean slams closed the vehicle door. Instinctively, one foot turns outward and slides slightly backwards, automatically falling into his kick-boxing stance. His hands don't move, but there is a tightness to his piercing blue eyes that is a cross between surprise and wariness.

"Sorry!" the young woman's voice says quickly. "Whoa - didn't mean to startle you."

Sean breathes out, raising his eyebrows quickly and going back to his usual stance. Tucking one hand into his pocket, he held out the other to the stranger.

"Ah, not at all." he says, feeling slightly awkward. "Sorry, I just ... startle easily. Can I help you?"

The woman's taller than he's used to, with curly brown hair and darkly tanned skin. Too dark to be white, he realizes. It glows like polished copper in the morning sunlight. When she smiles at him, her teeth and perfectly straight and marble white. Her brown eyes, so dark they seem almost black, study him like a science experiment. She seems friendly, he thinks, but also coldly rational.

"You're Sean Penbeaurogh?" she asks, startling him once again.

"I am." he answers, tilting his chin in a slight nod.

"My name is Dr. Dakota Myres, professional of forensic analysis. I'm working with the police to investigate the murders. If it's not too much to ask, I have a few questions."

Sean raised his hands and his eyebrows in a gesture of 'why not', and leaned back against his car door. Tucking his hands back into his pockets, he looked at the woman expectantly.

"Anything you need, ma'am. I'm an open book."

She looks at him seriously for a moment, as though contemplating, and then smiled slightly. It was barely a curve of her satin pink lips, but it was certainly there.

"Good to hear." she said, her clipped voice pleasant, but strangely like a growl. Like she was trying to hide a rough accent. "Mr Penbeaurogh - what is your connection to Robin Albrick?"

Sean's face darkens slightly, and he looks down at the pavement.

"Nothing." he said, shaking his head. "I've only just met him."

"And do you trust him?"

Sean hesitates at the question, and then raises his eyes to meet the detectives. She stares back impassively, her dark eyes unreadable. He knows what answer he needs to give. His lips move to say 'No.' to admit to the woman that he doesn't trust the boy an inch. He knows it is the answer that would shift all blame away from himself. He knows it is the truth.

"Yes ma'am ... with my life."

"You seem pretty convinced." the woman murmurs, her mahogany eyes narrowing slightly as she breathes out. Her breath smells of mint and something that Sean can't discern, but certainly knows. As she steps closer, he can suddenly smell the scent from her body. The new leather of her knee-length coat, and something darker. Decay. "Has he done anything to make you trust him?"

"Why do you smell like a corpse?" Sean asked, his body suddenly tense. He raised one arm slightly, fingers splayed, to warn the woman back. "No closer!"

"I have been doing analyses on the corpses of Kathryn Steward and Evangelina Ross." Dakota says, stopping where she was and spreading her arms in a gesture of peace. "Do you have any idea why I came to speak to you, Sean?"

"None ma'am." he says, lowering his arm back to his side and slipping his fingers into his pocket. His thumb plays mindlessly with one belt-loop.

"Both bodies were found close to your cabin." she said quietly. "There's been rumors about you circulating in town. You showed up at the site of the first investigation, unprompted ... and something else."

"Something else, ma'am?"

"I found one of your hairs on the body of Evangelina." she said quietly, her brown eyes piercing. "Now, I have not mentioned this fact to the police. I wanted to speak to you first. Why would such a thing have been there, Sean?"

Sean hesitates, his mind numb. Moron, a voice in the back of his head whispers.

"Does the phrase 'Engel nicht willkommen' mean anything to you, Sean?"

For a brief moment, Sean thinks about denying it. Then he breathes out violently, and lowers his chin to his chest. His pale blue eyes close, and he wraps his arms around his chest. "Angels not welcome. It was written above the body." he whispers, his deep voice low-pitched and directed at the pavement. "It's German."

"I know what it means." she says, taking a step forwards. The young woman is standing within arms-length of Sean, her hard gaze fixing his to the ground. "I asked if it meant anything you to."

"No." Sean said truthfully, shaking his head.

"But you found the body!" she dug deeper, twisting her invisible grasp on him.

"Yes."

"And you didn't tell anybody?" her voice was scornful. "Why?"

"I called the police." he whispered, every word shamed. "I told them where to find the body the next morning. I couldn't have told them myself, I ... they would have locked me away immediately."

"That's true enough." Dakota breathes, the venom in her voice gone. "You did well, Sean. You have nothing to repent."

Sean lifts his gaze to meet hers. It is surprisingly warm, he finds.

"I lied, before. I never found any evidence that you had any contact with the crime scene. I'm surprised you did, to be honest. I should tell you - you're most certainly a suspect, now. But ... I also trust you, for some reason. Don't give me reason not to."

With that, she turns and walks back to her vehicle. The door clicks as she begins to climb in, and then pauses, looking up at him through her long-lashed gaze.

"Oh, and Sean..."

"Yes ma'am?" he said, his voice quiet.

"I know exactly what Robin Albrick is. You might think you know more than I do, but you don't. The fact that you trust him after your little debut at the park ..." she breathes out slightly, her dark eyes like daggers, "... it doesn't look good on you. That boy is the worst type of evil."

And with that, she reaches up and slams the car door shut behind her, hiding her dark figure inside the tinted windows. Sean watches in disbelief as the enormous trucks headlights flicker on, and the engine roar to life. She backs up slightly, and then rolls in a half circle and takes off with a muted rumble down the roadway. Sean watches until the grey SUV rolls around a curve in the road and disappears.

She knows about Robin, he thinks, nearly sliding down his car door in ....

Relief?

Exhaustion?

Fear?

What kind of investigator was she, anyways? There was something strange about the woman, Sean thought. Something that was both inherently trustworthy and spine-chillingly horrific about her. Maybe it was the almost zen-like calm in her eyes, backed by uncontrolled fury. Like a half-tamed wolf. She was obviously more than she claimed to be. She knew about something nobody was supposed to, and she discussed it like news from the Sunday paper.

"Mother of God." he whispers, reaching back and pulling open his car door before his legs could give out under him. Collapsing into the drivers' seat, he clamped both hands onto the steering wheel and breathed out heavily. "What the hell is going on in this town?"