THE BEAST ─ five hargreeves

[ 066 ] there's a new homo in town

LXVI.

t h e r e ' s a
n e w h o m o
i n t o w n

—LILA WAS PACING outside the door. In her hands was the case file. 744.

"Listen, sis," she murmured to herself. "I've got something to tell you." She stopped her pacing. "No, that's not right. Gotta get straight to the point. How about—Zara, I have horrible news. It's about our parents and your bastard friend—no, not quite. Your bastard acquaintance. That's better. Now, from the top—"

She cleared her throat and ran through her entire speech, complete with sensitive intonations and sympathetic nods at an imaginary person situated in front of her.

When she had repeated the full version, she stopped and frowned to herself. Three minutes later she returned with a box of tissues in one hand and Double Stuf Oreos in the other. Much better.

She tucked the case file away into her jacket. No need to have that hideous thing out in the open, screaming its misery like an ill-fated banshee. Better to first tell Zara gently, sister-to-sister, that the only boy she'd ever truly liked had murdered both of their parents in the year 1993.

Lila sighed. This wasn't going to be easy, was it? But it was the only thing to do.

And then, said a impish little voice inside of her, Five is going to get exactly what he deserves.

He was going to hurt . . .

Lila gave one swift, decisive nod of her head. Then she tucked the Oreos under one arm, put her key into the latch, and swung open the door.

"Oh no," said Lila, almost as though pleading with someone. "Oh no—no!"

The room was completely, undoubtedly, irrefutably empty.

. . .

—DIEGO WOKE UP IN a dark place. A little white light hung from the ceiling and made him blink. Four faces topped with absurd berets stared at him in the darkness. One of the men was holding a pipe wrapped in strips of dark felt. Another put on yellow rawhide gloves.

There was a thin man standing in the center. He smiled placidly upon seeing Diego wake up. "Look at that," he announced. "Seems our sleepy friend has decided to join the party. How ya feelin', Mr. Runaway?"

"I feel like shit," said Diego. "Thanks to you."

"We at the Commission are real hospitable, you know that?" said the thin man, still smiling. "And when you tried to leave us so soon—" He gave a half-comedic wince. "It was real impolite, lemme tell you."

"I want to talk to Lila."

The man caressed his smooth cheek, watching him obliquely out of slightly narrowed eyes.

"Eager to leave us? No. We have orders from The Handler, you see. She says you might be useful. Useful—for your connections. For the little band of idiots you call your siblings."

Diego gave a short laugh. "You'll have no luck with that."

"What I suggest is this," continued the other, running on as though he had not heard Diego. "You will go back to your family, gather information, and report back. If you've got somethin' good, maybe I let you live another week."