by A. L. Tyler
I clenched my teeth. “They died the night he was infected. He gets drunk every year on the anniversary. Whent, what does this have to do with the investigation?”
“Nothing,” he said lightly. He got up from his chair, this time moving so deftly that he made no contact at all. “I’m sure you’re on the wrong side of the Bleak, Ms. Driftwood. Nicholas Warren’s acquaintances usually are. I don’t care what you’ve done, though, or what you’re doing with him during your personal time. But I can say that I would relish the opportunity to knock him down a peg, and your unfortunate association means that you are now of interest to me.”
He strode to a window. I took a deep breath, finally feeling the vice on my mind release.
“They died the night he turned,” Whent said quietly. “That’s all you know?”
I stared at his back, and his well-groomed, feathery hair. I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to engage him further. “They were murdered by the vampire that turned him.”
Whent’s shoulders relaxed a little. He turned back to me, this time looking severe.
“Agent Warren has had a drinking problem since long before he was turned. He had a fidelity problem, as well. Agent Warren was out drinking the night before his family’s demise.” He paced toward me. “Unknown to him, his female companion that evening was a vampire. Agent Driftwood, would you believe me if I said that Warren was already bitten when he returned home that night? And his poor family... Well, I know as well as the rest the mania that sets in with the first craving. Would you believe me if I said he slaughtered every last one of them himself, and that’s the memory that drives him to drink?”
I felt the hypnotism pushing at the boundaries of my mind. It was just enough to make me doubt if he was trying to quietly influence me or restrain himself from interfering.
It pissed me off more than it should have. I knew he was trying to play on my emotions.
“No,” I said firmly. “I wouldn’t believe you.”
Whent raised his chin, skeptical. “Why?”
“Because whatever is going on between you and Nick is personal,” I said. “No, I don’t trust a word of it. I don’t believe he asked for my reassignment, either.”
“You’re a smart woman, Agent Driftwood. Good day.”
He turned back to the window. I wiped my palms against the sea of fabric I was wearing. I left the room and went up to the deck. A hundred feet away in the water, a civilian woman was sitting on the deck of another boat, one hand laid across her stomach as she swayed in the unsettled waters.
Georgina. I wasn’t sure when or where the Bleak had collected her. As I watched her on the boat, seeming so small against the feral backdrop of trees and ocean and retreating storm clouds, I felt profoundly depressed.
She was alone, but she wasn’t. Amos and Skyla would be under interrogation for a long time. Skyla especially, given that the Bleak was likely to have a newfound interest in her once they knew about her unique ability to reverse cast and her complicated situation.
But when the interrogations finished, they would come home. They would have each other. Even though they were all alone now, they still had each other, and they didn’t have to do it alone.
I hadn’t had that in my life since my father was taken from me. I hadn’t wanted the pain of losing it again.
But now, I wanted it.
I sat up on the deck, utterly alone with my thoughts as the Bleak agents buzzed around me, firing off occasional questions about how we’d managed with the wolves inside the mansion and the extent of the damage they’d caused. I was left to give the rest of my statement without Whent’s influence.
I watched them leave for the mansion, and I heard the gunfire in the distance, and I watched them return—two fewer—with Rogers in custody.
That made six people dead. Seven, including the hitman.
What a mess. I put it on my mental shelf, where I liked to hide away everything awful I read and saw in the evidence room. I would re-examine it in the dark, early hours of some sleepless night, I was sure, but not now.
Feel the victory. That was the motto that Nick lived by. In our line of work, every defeat of a criminal began with a crime. If you couldn’t let go of the evil in the world—even for a second—and celebrate the crimes you’d prevented and the lives you’d saved, burnout was coming for you.
So, I didn’t look at Rogers. I looked at Georgina, and the hand she kept rested on her stomach. I thought about Skyla. I thought about Amos and how happy he was to find out his best friend was his sister.
I was ready to have people in my life again.
Chapter 28
Amos came out of questioning a day later. Skyla took two days, but I made sure I was watching when they were reunited with Georgina.
The tears. The smiles.
I was moved to Nick’s boat on day two, but we didn’t see much of each other. They kept us busy, answering questions for specialists, and I stayed awake for two days straight. Every time I started to drift off, I was back in the pool, fighting to stay awake.
Fighting to stay alive.
Bam! The sound of the gun echoed in my mind, and I saw the blood pouring from my leg. I was alone, and it was more than physical solitude. It was a feeling that cut deep. It all played over and over and over in my mind.
When day four arrived and I couldn’t stay awake any longer, I awoke to the sound of the bullets in my mind. Nick was standing in the darkened doorway to my cabin.
He didn’t say anything. Someone nearby called out for his attention and he left.
I was grateful all the same.
Day five came, and the team had a plan. It didn’t involve Nick or me.
They ferried us out to a spot far enough from the island that the enchantments on the island wouldn’t interfere with my ametrine ring, and I cast a teleportation spell back to Nick’s apartment.
The light came in through the windows at an odd angle, casting long strips of golden sunset and deep shadows across the floor. The room was warm, and the smell of dust and age from all of his collected antiques was familiar. I turned back to Nick just in time to see him check the wards and lay his keys on the hook by the door. He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto a counter before going to the fridge.
This was his life—an average case for a handler of the Bleak. It was like none of it had happened at all, and he was going to go on with the routines of life. Now, though, it wouldn’t be strange if I took off my jacket and melted against him, the two of us watching the sunset over the mountains from his couch.
But my palms were starting to tingle, and my jacket stayed on. I took a deep breath and Nick looked up, a glass jar of blood in his hands. His eyes wandered down to my hands.
“Have you talked to Angel?”
I clenched my fists to relieve some of the pain. “My cell phone was eaten.”
He cracked a smile. I wasn’t quite ready to smile about it yet, but his relaxed nature was a blessing.
“Right.” He took the bottle and set off down the hall to eat in peace. It still turned my stomach to see his meals in the raw. “Give me a minute to change and we’ll go.”
I searched the cabinets before finding some granola bars I’d left behind on a previous visit. I shoved one in my mouth and went back to clenching my fists, eyeing the sink with desire.
I used to purge my magic in water, freezing and boiling it to let off the extra magic from the Topaz that my body couldn’t accommodate. Angel, my doctor, told me to stop after my treatments had taken effect. She told me to think of the magic from the Topaz like a goldfish that would grow to fit its tank: purging gave the illusion that the tank was larger, thereby creating the need to keep purging.
Of course, the thing about goldfish growing to fit their tanks is mostly a lie. Goldfish grow very large and sometimes fast, and they need large tanks from the start. My stolen magic was the same. It was too big for the space it inhabited now, and the trick was to expand my capacity without...
Well, letting the goldfish grow into an angry shark that would come ripping out of me.
I sat on the couch and gnawed at my granola bar.
Nick was fast. “Ready?”
I crammed the last of the granola bar into my mouth and wiped my hands on my pants, nodding.
Nick frowned when he saw my cheeks puffed out like a hamster. “We can get something to eat first if you’d like.”
I shook my head and swallowed. “No, I’m good. I just need Angel.”
He pulled up a picture on his phone, showing me a hospital downtown. “She’s at work. She said she could meet us in an alley out back.”
“Was she pissed?” I asked, studying the photo and trying the build the location in my mind. I needed a solid mental concept to go anywhere with my ring. “She’s usually pissed when I don’t pick up her calls, and we were due to meet two days ago.”
“Yeah, she was pissed,” he conceded, putting on his jacket. “I told her you were mortally wounded and she said she’d let it go. This time.”
I huffed a laugh as I handed back his phone and held up my ring hand in front of us. Good old Angel.
I cast the spell and we stepped out next to a darkening alley downtown. A homeless man pushing a cart stared at us with wide eyes as we emerged right next to the hospital wall, and he raised a hand to point.
“You just—you just—”
“Joseph Magenta, street magician,” Nick said without missing a beat. He pulled his wallet from his pocket to retrieve some bills, which he handed to the man. “Tell your friends. Dinner’s on me.”
“That was amazing!” He took a few steps forward, laying a hand on the brick wall as he passed. “You’re really good!”
“You’re too kind,” Nick smiled. He grabbed my arm and pulled me into the dark by the dumpsters, giving me a long look. “Further down the alley next time. Please.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t see the alley from the picture,” I said.
“You got a ‘please’,” a voice said from nearby.
I peered into the darkness. It took my eyes a moment to find Angel, her head barely visible over the top of a dumpster as she bowed it over her phone. She stepped out, her white coat draped over one arm. She wore green scrubs, very different from the hippie vibe she rocked in her off hours, and her curly hair was tamed into a small bun. “Must mean things are going well for you. You two, I mean.”
I shook my head and tried to keep my attitude in check. Angel practiced her skills under the Bleak’s radar. For her own safety, she liked to maintain a state of mutually assured destruction. Meaning, whatever secret she wanted to know, you gave it up.
Or else. Angry shark, and all that.
“Things are going well.” Nick turned his back to us, keeping an eye on the alley entrance as he put up a minor enchantment to hide us from casual view. “All things considered.”
The enchantment played like delicately plucked strings on a viola, making the darkening alley almost poetic in my mind. It helped me relax some.
Angel stepped forward, unblinking as she reached for my arm and started pulling up my sleeve. “You missed a treatment. That sets your whole recovery off schedule.”
I exhaled slowly through my nose and tried to smile. “I was running for my life from werewolves.”
“And I’m supposed to be cutting cancer out of a ten-year-old,” she glared at me. “I’m still here.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“You should be.”
She laid her palm against me, and I felt the excess force drain from my veins. Just enough, and not too much. The first several treatments had left me unable to use magic for hours afterward, but since getting to know each other, she’d been able to adjust her takes for each session.
Nick stepped up next to me. “Would you mind making one more stop tonight?”
Angel held my hand firm, ignoring us.
“Sure.”
“My car is finally ready. You can drop me at the shop and I’ll drive it home.”
I thought about it for a moment, questioning if I wanted to say the words that had come to mind.
Yes, I did. “You could drive me home. If you want.”
Nick put his hands in his pockets, smirking.
Angel stared at my arm. “You two need to get a damn room.”
“I’m trying.”
She didn’t respond. She closed her eyes to focus on finishing the draw. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was like for Angel, but I imagined it might take some concentration to tame and store foreign magic within oneself on command.
“I caught the bad guy,” I said to her. “I saved some lives.”
“Good for you.” She released her grip on my hand and crossed her arms, staring me down. “I save lives every day. Every. Day. Do not waste my time, and do not miss another session.”
“Right. Will do.”
She was already texting on her phone again, walking back to a side door. She gave us a wave—or maybe she was shooing a fly—before it shut behind her.
Nick looked down at me, seemingly impressed with my bold invitation.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said, eyes wandering over me. “Sure. I can drive you home.”
IT WAS FULL DARK WHEN Nick slammed shut his car door and turned the ignition. I shook my head in disbelief. The car was perfect again. Sure, the mechanic had it for a month, but I was in it when it had swerved off the road and slammed into an embankment.
Totaled. And I couldn’t hear any magic in it or on it now.
This was real magic.
Nick relaxed back into his seat as the engine on his old Chevelle purred on. It must have cost him a fortune to keep it in such excellent condition, but that was Nick: when he found something he liked, he invested in it. He kept it forever, like the jacket that carried all of the wards that made the sounds my mind called his.
We drove on in the dark with the stretch of the leather bench seat between us. I leaned my head against the window and stared out at the stars—so many stars, because Nick’s mechanic was far outside the city.
And I was going to need a new phone, and I was going to have some explaining to do to Marge, and one of my former criminal comrades had finally taken a swing at me, but I didn’t worry about any of it on the drive. The heavens hung over us, and it was well after midnight when we arrived back at my house in Sargasso.
It was a massive three-story home of some historical significance. It had some stylistic elements that made it look like a miniature castle, which I liked, and no garage to park in, which I didn’t.
As Nick pulled up on the dirt drive next to the front porch, he let the car idle in park.
He was giving me an out, in case I’d changed my mind.
But I really, really hadn’t. I reached over and turned the key. The silence without the running engine, complemented only by the familiar sounds of our magic, was intimidating.
“Whent tried to turn me against you.” I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned to face him, leaning back against the door.
Nick’s eyes flashed, but he kept his voice low and calm. “Whent’s had it out for me for a while. What did he say?”
I shook my head. “It’s not important. I trust you. I mean, apparently the Bleak can’t trust you, if you’re going to break security clearance to show me a picture of Samson Grift, but I trust you.”
He laughed a little, glancing at me and shaking his head. “Yeah, that wasn’t smart. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You were trying to get in my pants.”
“No,” he said firmly. He was averting his eyes. It was the most nervous I had ever seen him. “With everything that was going on there—no. I’m a thrill seeker, but that’s above and beyond. You couldn’t let it go, and I wanted to give you closure. I just wanted to convince you. I’m only sorry you lost that phone, with the picture.”
I moved toward him on the bench seat. The Chevelle was parked in the shade of a large cottonwood tree that blocked out the street
lamps, and I wondered if it was a standard feature of vampires that they looked better in the dark.
I leaned toward him, kissing him slowly. He brought a hand up, putting his fingers in my hair as I heard him using the other to fumble with the door handle.
He turned away, so I kissed his neck instead. Even living out of a boat with none of his personal things for days on end, he still managed to smell amazing. The feel of his fingers, gripping and stroking at the nape of my neck, was intoxicating.
This was feeling the victory.
Nick cleared his throat. “We should go inside.”
He didn’t sound like he wanted to go inside, and his eyes were burning with a nervous desire. I caught the slightest glimpse of the fangs he fought so hard to keep hidden before he forced his mouth shut.
I unzipped my jacket and started to take it off.
“You’re probably tired, and I need to clean up—”
“I don’t care,” I breathed. I took my shirt off, slowly, giving him a little more room as the cool night air raised goosebumps on my skin. “I want to do more than kissing.”
His eyes wandered. My bra was a stained mess after everything we’d been through. “In the car.”
“You’re a thrill seeker.” I shrugged, looking around. I didn’t want to break the moment. “You really like this car.”
I was afraid he’d changed his mind, but his eyes suddenly turned to cool confidence.
“I do really like this car.”
He closed the space between us, kissing me firmly, one hand on my back and another on my thigh. I lowered myself gently until I could feel the leather of the seat against my back. Nick looked down at me as he maneuvered in the confines of the car to remove his jacket.
He came back to kiss me. I unbuttoned his shirt. He had a hand on my hip, and it crept toward the button on my jeans.
He hesitated, and then stopped.
“Nick?”
He took his hand away from my jeans, bracing himself over me as he studied my face. “You’re sure?”
