Rolling her eyes, Selia smacked herself on the head with the toy. “Goodie. We can sell them as sets,” she said dryly.
“Oh, yeah. Gotta make the Nightshade plushy. Girls will scoop that up.” Excitement crept into Wil's voice. “Jeez, I need to make more calls, then.”
“I'm going to hang up now,” Selia said. “I'll just sleep with my nice, new, fuzzy teddy bear.”
“Uh oh. I went overboard, didn't I?” Wil sighed. “Sorry. Sometimes I get caught up in all that mess. Did Alex get you a teddy bear?”
“Nope, I guilt-tripped Bernie into it,” Selia said smugly. “He was mean, so I made him get me a teddy bear as payback. This one is dressed up as a knight in shining armor, complete with sword to fight the monsters under my bed.”
Wil laughed. “That's brilliant. But if Bernie got it for you, I'd check it for a spycam, just to be safe.”
“Alex did that for me,” Selia replied with a laugh. “He trusts Bernie even less than I do where I’m concerned. A fear of Soren, I think. Of course, the fact that their brothers, means Alex will try to keep Bernie out of trouble, when he can.”
“All right. Well, shall we catch up later? Let me know if you need to sneak out to be with Soren when he's released around six o'clock?”
“I'll let you know, but if I'm hoping that if Soren is getting out today, that means I'll be released today, too,” Selia assured him. In almost a whisper, she added, “I love you.”
She held her breath, almost afraid of what his reply would be.
“You know what?” Wil whispered back. “I love you, too.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
P ractically bouncing off the walls with the possibility that she would be freed, Selia took a quick shower and began rooting around in her closet for something to wear. Settling on a black velvety mini-skirt and blood-red blouse, she pulled on a pair of black leather knee-high boots to complete the outfit. Gathering everything she’d brought together, she piled it onto the single chair in her bedroom before returning to the living room.
The phone Wil had given her was in her purse and the pair from Al and Soren were sitting on the kitchen table next to her shiny new laptop that was packed away into its briefcase. The briefcase currently had the leftover cash Al gave her and it finally dawned on her: Wil still had her old laptop and the duffle bag. At least Al wasn’t aware Soren had brought her the duffle bag and the phones. Her own phone was turned off and in the bottom of the purse she’d taken when she’d visited Al in his penthouse.
Though only an hour had passed before the brothers arrived, it felt like a whole day to Selia. Wanting nothing more than to be released was a sensation that people might think they understand, like as the last hour of school passes, or the final minutes of a hard shift at work slowly ticks away, but it isn't the same. Not knowing when you will be free, but only that it will happen sometime, drags the time and grates against a person's soul.
When she heard a car pulling up, Selia bit her tongue to keep from screaming in elation. She waited, hearing the car doors close, first one then a second, and began bouncing with hope and excitement. Knuckles rapped against the door, and she nearly toppled over her own feet when she dashed for the door.
Opening the door, she blinked against the sunlight and verified that Alex and Bernie were standing there, smiling. It wasn't her mind playing a mean trick, hallucinating over a pair of missionaries coming to tell her the good news about Christ, or worse, the police. It was the brothers.
“Looks like somebody's ready to get the hell outta here,” observed Bernie.
“Can I?” Selia almost squeaked. “Am I free to go home?”
“We are duly authorized to escort you back to the garage where your vehicle awaits.” Alex declared proudly. “From there, you are free to go home, or wherever you want, kiddo.”
She tackled both men in a wide-armed embrace. She laughed, her body still all but vibrating. The brothers hugged her back, and Bernie didn't even try to sneak an inappropriate caress or squeeze. Later, as she doubled checked to make sure she had everything, she reflected that her left breast was pressed so hard against Bernie that he could probably feel her heartbeat
The brothers helped her pack the luggage and gear into the rental car and instructed her to follow. She was a little awkward behind the wheel, having spent almost no time in the rental's luxury. Al had gotten a rental with cruise control, GPS, an mp3 and DVD player, as well as satellite radio. She found a station that suited her mood and followed the brothers for the forty-five minutes it took to arrive at the garage owned by Soren, where her car was kept.
Fifteen minutes away from the garage, the hot tea she’d had with her breakfast decided to invade her bladder. Selia flashed her headlights at the brothers and pulled into the parking lot of a large convenience store. When she had first come to this city, this had once been home to a half dozen gas pumps and a small building with a register, lukewarm drinks, bored clerks, and cigarettes.
Not having much time to spare, Selia parked at the far side of the lot. That entrance was closest to the bathrooms. She dashed in and took care of the troubling pressure provided by the tea finishing its grand tour of her digestive system.
On the way out, Selia walked rapidly out the same entrance, and glanced down to fish out the rental key from her pocket. Something, or someone, sucker punched the area just behind her right ear. Large black spots obscured her vision. Her body felt like she was sinking in water. Hands clamped around her throat. Selia’s fingers tried to get underneath the grip cutting off her ability to breathe.
“We aren’t done, my delicious little treat,” said Moreisa’s hissing voice in Selia’s ear. “Do you want to suffer for ages, or shall we just end it now? I want you to beg for your preference.”
Her head was pounding, every beat of her quickening pulse thrummed in her neck against the rough palms and fingers the kept pressing harder. Selia tried to gather her calm, then her anger, anything to summon enough energy to fight back, and she was failing...failing...
...falling...
Somewhere above her, Selia thought she heard the sound of something being struck and voices yelling. The claws that were choking the life out of her fell away abruptly. Air rushed into her lungs, clarity coming far quicker than Selia could believe. It was like... a spell being broken.
“Da fuck do you think ya lookin’ at?” Bernie’s voice, at its roughest, and angriest, was roaring somewhere nearby. His accent was cranked up as well. “Yeah, keep pointing that gizmo at me! You gonna film me putting two in this bitch’s head if she so much as twitches! See if I give a fuck!”
“We appreciate your concern, but our friend was attacked,” Alex’s stiff but calmer voice was coming from a closer position. “Authorities have been notified. They will take care of this.”
“Did you film her getting attacked? Nah? Then what good is pointing that piece of shit over here now?” Bernie challenged.
Selia opened her eyes in time to see him snatch something out of a very young man’s hand just before smashing it to the ground. His right hand held his .44 caliber snub nose revolver. His left hand snaked into his jacket pocket, returned with a handful of hundred-dollar bills. He threw this wad at the young man. The kid almost didn’t react fast enough to catch the money. His eyes were still wide as he hurried to leave.
“That’s right! Get outta here! Have a nice goddamn day, you hear?” Bernie yelled after the retreating would-be filmographer.
“You okay, Lia?” Alex knelt next to her; one had offered to aid her getting up.
She then realized she was on her knees. Everything caught up to her in a rush, and she leapt to her feet. Her equilibrium objected to the sudden movement. As she wobbled, Alex grabbed her elbow and moved in to keep her standing.
“Whoa, easy. Not so fast,” he said. “Why the hell did that bag lady jump you?”
“She-” Selia began, looking around for Moreisa. The crumbled body was four feet away, blocking the entrance Selia had come out f
rom. Selia took two long steps, ignored the unsteady way her body moved, until she could glower down at the damn witch.
It wasn’t Moreisa. Didn’t look a thing like her, in fact. Alex had called this person a bag lady, and Selia could see why. She was desperately thin, looked to be in her mid-nineties just by the wrinkles and lines throughout her face. Mismatched, ill-fitting filthy clothing. A smell that would curl the nose of even a hardened alcoholic wafted from the poor woman’s body. Her eyes were clouded but open.
It didn’t matter. She was dead. The blood from the three-inch gash above her eyebrows was barely trickling down into her temples and hairline. Selia glanced over at Bernie.
Specifically, the muzzle of Bernie’s gun. She saw wetness around the front sight and the front of the barrel. The sound Selia had heard, she deduced, right before the choking had ended, was Bernie pistol whipping this person. That’s what had opened the gash on her forehead.
“I have no idea why this sad being jumped me,” Selia finally replied. “But thankfully you two were here.”
“You good to go? Can you drive?” Bernie was up beside her, his voice low and concerned.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Cool, ‘cause nice guy over here actually did call the Fuzz, and they don’t want us anywhere around when they arrive,” Bernie finished.
She nodded and they quickly made their getaway.
At the garage, the brothers transplanted her stuff to her vehicle, took the keys to the rental, and said they'd take care of everything. Selia hugged them individually, got into her car, and then drove home. While she traveled, the thought she had kept from the brothers, and would later neglect to mention to Soren or Wil, flowered in her mind.
The poor old woman who attacked me didn’t die when Bernie hit her. He just broke the reanimation by head trauma.
She’d been dead for at least a day before she came after me. And Moreisa had spoken through her, to me.
No, they definitely were not done.
An hour later, she unlocked the door to her townhouse in Upper Midtown. The doorman of the complex, a handsome fellow named Jose, was behind her with all her stuff. She walked in and breathed a heavy sigh of unexpected relief.
The place was spotless and hadn't been tossed or trashed. All of her furniture was where she had left it. Her television stood in the same place. Her collection of porcelain dolls was untouched, lining the wall-mounted shelf that had been installed beside her large china press where she kept her dishes, silverware, and a few precious keepsakes. The “C” shaped leather couch faced the TV and state of the art entertainment center, along with her favorite console system. The glass coffee table gleamed.
Selia nodded at her living room and invited Jose to bring in her things and put them next to the door.
“Good to be home, eh, Selia?” Jose observed.
She had insisted all the staff call her by her first name. Selia disliked formality, especially where they all existed together to make some semblance of a home. Jose had become something of a friend. He never treated her with any less respect, and she responded in kind.
“It is, Jose. Could you thank the cleaning staff for keeping my home so well kept while I was gone?” She smiled at him. “Thanks for bringing up my things.” She fished out a fifty-dollar bill and pressed it into the lapel pocket of his uniform.
“Anytime, Selia.” Jose smiled, while patting his pocket. “And not just because you tip like you mean it.” He gave her a wink and closed the door.
Selia ignored her baggage for the moment and checked on her kitchen. The stainless-steel stove, range and fridge shone under the lights, and her counter was clean enough to eat off. Her pantry and shelves were stocked with fresh food and staples, as was her fridge. She popped open an ice-cold can of Coke and sipped at it. Wondering who she had to thank for the newly stocked kitchen, she checked her bathroom, outside patio, and finally her bedroom.
Every area looked like it was ready for a photo shoot in an advertisement. Her bed had fresh sheets. New sheets, in fact, since she had never owned black silk sheets in her life. She put the Coke on the bedside cabinet and stretched out on the bed. The sheets felt amazing.
Someone was going to be getting a very big amount of thanks, Selia thought. If any of this had been due to Wil, and she hoped it was, he would be getting thanks until one of them couldn't walk.
One of her phones was ringing. She reluctantly got off the bed and moved into the living room. When she realized the ringtone indicated that Wil was calling her, she hurried.
Grabbing the phone and swiping her finger across the screen, she playfully said, "Hello?"
"Hello, beautiful. Care to meet me at the hospital?"
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I t took Selia twenty minutes to get to the hospital, and most of that was arguing with traffic. Parking her car and all but skipping with joy, Selia made her way to the front. Her eyes danced with delight at the knowledge she was finally free, and Soren was being released to go home. She studied the handful of people standing outside until her gaze lighted upon a fit male nurse in scrubs. Wil once again had that odd, blue-tipped cigarette and was chatting with a couple other staff members. One woman, a pretty brunette who barely came to his shoulder, looked suspiciously like a doctor.
She slowed her steps until she was close to them and beneath the shoulder-length wavy brown hair, she recognized his brown eyes. Of course, the fluttering in her stomach would have told her who he was if nothing else did.
“Miss Lascari,” the ‘nurse’ addressed her with a smile. He tucked the black cigarette into his scrubs pocket and approached her. His voice was flavored with a thick city accent. “I suppose you wanna get your dad outta here?”
“I do, indeed,” Selia replied, a bright smile on her face. “I'm sure he's chomping at the bit to get out, too.”
“Oh, yeah. Talked about little else since the doc cleared him to go.” He chuckled. “Had to take a break and get away from it, personally. But you're here, so let's get the cranky bastard gone.”
Selia laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like Papa. Never has liked appearing weak in front of anyone.”
“Weak? Are you kidding? The docs are still trying to figure out how he's healed so well... and arguing about who can take the credit.”
There were many things that sucked majorly about having to pretend she and Wil didn't know each other; one was they couldn't have a normal conversation. She had to be careful what she said, and what she did. Eventually, though, they wouldn't have to hide their attraction, and she was thoroughly looking forward to that day.
“Guess he had a guardian angel,” she replied, keeping her gaze locked on Wil. So, maybe she'd used a bit too much magic when she'd healed him, but it wasn't like she could have left him in so much pain! She wasn't cruel, after all.
Entering through the ER, Wil led her to the nearest elevator and made sure they were alone when the doors closed.
“You look fantastic,” he said in his true voice.
“Thanks,” she breathed. “You look pretty amazing, yourself.” She giggled. “Do you know how much I want to kiss you right now?”
“We've got 28.4 seconds. Show me.”
Smiling, her eyes twinkling with mischief, she gently pulled him to her and pressed her lips against his, her tongue running over his before she deepened the kiss. Pressing up against him, she held the collar of his shirt tightly in her hands. As the sensation of the elevator came to an end, she broke the kiss and took a swift step back, a Cheshire cat grin on her face.
“Okay. You really wanted to kiss me,” he breathed, composing himself as the elevator doors opened.
Turning to the left, they bypassed the nurses’ station. Another few moments and they were outside his room.
“You go on. I'll grab him a wheelchair to refuse,” Wil said with a smile.
Selia took a breath and stepped into the room. Soren was looking out the window, dressed in one of his best suits. He stood without a cane or other a
ssistance.
“I can't tell you how glad I am to see you up and looking like your handsome, dashing self again,” Selia said after the door closed behind her.
Soren turned and looked her over before smiling. “I could say the same of you, Selia.” He nodded outside. “I've been worried about your state of health since you started spending your nights with him.”
“I, um, that is…” Selia floundered for words. “What do you mean? I haven't been spending my nights with him. I've been spending my nights keeping my vow to you.” She crossed to Soren and gave him a hug. “I've missed you, Papa.”
“So, the rumors I've been hearing from the staff around here,” Soren said evenly. “Of a woman vigilante fighting along-side or better than the Sandman aren’t just tall tales.”
Selia dropped her head against Soren's chest and shook it. “No, Papa, they aren’t tall tales,” she said with a heavy sigh. She lifted her head until she met his eyes. “I'm fairly certain you aren't going to like what I'm going to tell you.”
“I'm fairly certain you're right,” Soren said sternly. But then he smiled and rubbed her back. “But, you're safe, and whole, and those are the things I am concerned with the most.”
“Um, well,” Selia said, looking away from him. “There's been a little bit of a complication between us, that is, him and me.” She cringed as she whispered, “I, um, we're... let's just go with I love him.”
“Do you, now?” His voice wasn't angry or expressing much surprise. There was a weary sadness to his voice, tinged with what, she hoped, could be happiness.
“Yes,” she replied, almost cautiously. “He's sort of my mate?” Tilting her head to the side, she peered at him curiously. “You're not angry?”
“I've seen love, my dear child, and I've experienced it. I know what it looks like.” He shrugged. “Not liking what I see is a part of existence. As for being angry? No, I’m not. I didn't want you to marry into the Family. I am just concerned about your safety and happiness. One thing before we go on. Please tell me he doesn't really look like that nurse disguise.”
Taking The Night (Nightshade series Book 1) Page 25
