Wrong Side of Dead

by Kelly Meding

  Thackery jerked as if slapped. He looked past Wyatt, right at me, and in his haunted eyes I saw something surprising—regret. Exactly what he regretted I don’t know, and in that moment I didn’t care. There was no forgiveness in my heart for Walter Thackery. Just pity.

  So much intelligence and so much potential, lost to madness and vengeance.

  His gaze wandered around the room, taking in the faces of those condemning him, until his attention returned to Wyatt. “Their names are John, Mark, and Peter. They look like their brothers did. I don’t know where they’re hiding until seven o’clock. I told them not to tell me.”

  “Where were you supposed to meet them?” Wyatt asked.

  “Grove Park.”

  The place I’d gone to meet Thackery, only to be whisked away on the back of a Lupa. It was in Mercy’s Lot, about eight blocks east of Brutus’s tea shop. At a sudden rustle of movement, I glanced behind me. Astrid had moved away from the group, cell phone at her ear, presumably getting a squad over to Grove Park, ASAP. As soon as the Lupa realized the Coni prisoners had been compromised, they were unlikely to go to the park, but we had to follow every lead.

  “Please don’t kill them,” Thackery added.

  “I can’t promise that. But I’ll do my best.”

  Astrid grunted.

  “If you were intelligent enough to save my laptop from the ferry,” Thackery said, “the keyword is ‘height.’ Do what you can with the research.”

  “Thank you,” Wyatt said.

  “I did have the best intentions, you know.”

  What was that saying? The road to hell …

  Wyatt returned to my side, and I slipped my hand into his. He squeezed tight. I held on.

  Elder Dane stepped forward, hands clasped loosely in front of him, back straight. “Walter Thackery, you have been condemned to death for the crimes of kidnapping, conspiracy, and murder. There is no plea, and there is no clemency. There is only justice. Are you prepared to meet your god?”

  “No just god will welcome me into his heaven,” Thackery said.

  “Very well.”

  Dane stepped back into the circle of witnesses. Phin took his place. He’d stripped off his shirt and revealed his majestic wings. The Coni blade glinted in his right hand, an ancient symbol of an old order in which an entire race of people had been mercilessly hunted at the whim of another.

  Phin paused. He turned far enough to look at me, an unasked question in his eyes. A few months ago, I’d have relished the idea of executing someone like Thackery—a man who’d caused me untold heartache and who’d hurt people I loved. Thackery deserved punishment, and I would not grieve his death. But I didn’t want to be his executioner.

  I wasn’t that person anymore. I shook my head.

  With a slight, acknowledging nod, Phin turned to face Thackery. Thackery looked up and didn’t blink. For a brief moment in time, only those two men existed. United by very different kinds of grief and hatred, two players in this final act of justice.

  And then Thackery closed his eyes. Phin struck fast and true, driving the double blade deep into Thackery’s heart. He twisted once, hard to the left, and Thackery’s head fell forward. He was dead.

  It was over.

  Kind of.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Sunday, July 27

  12:15 A.M.

  Something warm and damp gusting across my face woke me from a deep, dreamless nap, and I blinked my eyes open. Twin blue orbs gazed back at me, so close I went a little cross-eyed trying to look at them. The owner crawled away with a sharp giggle and climbed onto the opposite bunk, where her mother sat, dressed in clothes that fit, watching us sleep.

  At my back on the narrow cot, Wyatt didn’t stir. We’d returned to my quarters to rest after hours of waiting (the Lupa didn’t show up at either Grove Park or Old World Teas) and then grilling, courtesy of several members of the Assembly. Together and then privately, I’d paced the floor in front of Operations while Wyatt was questioned, not settling until he exited—with more confidence than I’d seen in him for weeks.

  The Assembly had agreed to let Wyatt try to capture the three remaining Lupa as long as we found no evidence that they’d infected anyone else. He’d bargained for their lives and won. It was a small victory, but it had helped calm the wolf still raging inside of him.

  “I’m sorry she woke you,” Aurora said.

  “I’m not,” I said, sitting up and bracing on my elbow. “How is she?”

  “Time will tell how the early shift has affected her. But she seems joyful again.”

  “I wish it hadn’t happened.”

  “I wish many things had not happened. But you saved her, Evangeline, and I don’t have the words to thank you.”

  “You don’t have to.” I looked around and realized that my little room didn’t have a clock. “What time is it?”

  “A bit after midnight.”

  Damn, it had been a fucking eventful twenty-four hours.

  “Phineas is taking us back to his condo for now,” she said. “Until the Lupa are found, our country home isn’t safe. I thought you’d like to see Ava before we left.”

  “Thank you.” Ava didn’t really know me yet, but seeing her again now, awake, aware and smiling, lifted a heavy weight from my chest. “As long as I’m able, I’ll always protect her.”

  “Thank you,” Aurora said, beaming a grin at me that made me smile in kind.

  I eased off the bunk and hugged her. She collected Ava, who tolerated a forehead kiss from me, then headed out into the maze of corridors that made up the sleeping quarters. I was often surprised that I could find my way back to this room each time.

  The eerie sense of being watched tickled the back of my neck, and I turned around. Wyatt blinked at me from the bed, looking relaxed for the first time since he’d woken up in the infirmary.

  “Hey, sorry,” I said.

  “I’ve been awake for a while,” he said. “I just didn’t want to scare them.”

  “They’ll get used to your new look. We’re a package deal, you and me.”

  His mouth quirked. “You aren’t pissed at me for wanting to save the Lupa instead of killing them?”

  “No.” Might as well be honest. “I don’t know if I agree with your decision, but I do understand it, and I’ll help you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Phin, on the other hand, is pretty pissed about the Assembly’s allowances.”

  “The allowance on my life, or on the three Lupa children?”

  “The Lupa, dumbass.”

  He smiled. “Jackass?”

  “That, too.” I stretched my arms over my head, a little stiff from our impromptu nap. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.” His smile got so broad that I couldn’t help asking, “What?”

  “Just glad to see your appetite back.”

  “Me, too. Buy you lunch?”

  “It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Good, the cafeteria won’t be crowded.”

  He joined me in the doorway, hair sleep-tousled and chin badly in need of a shave. Except for the telltale ring of silver around his eyes, he looked like my old Wyatt. The man I’d fallen in love with, pushed away, and yanked back harder than ever. And this time, I wasn’t letting him go.

  I wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned close, feeling the heat of his skin and the thrum of his heartbeat. He clasped my hips in a gentle grip and sought out my mouth. Our lips brushed—a quiet kiss that lingered awhile, until I wanted more. I licked inside his mouth, needing everything he had to give, and he returned in kind. Possessive, wanting, taking—I wanted more, but we needed a much bigger bed and more privacy than these sheetrock walls and doorless cubicles provided. My lips tingled—that same faint sensation that Dr. Vansis hadn’t been able to account for.

  His tests had determined that Wyatt’s saliva didn’t carry enough of the Lupa virus to infect another human through a bite. His blood, however, could potentially infect someone if enoug
h came into contact with an open wound. It made fieldwork more dangerous, but it was a risk I could live with.

  A faint commotion caught my attention, and our lips parted reluctantly. I strained to hear, unsure what was happening or where.

  “Come on,” Wyatt said.

  He grabbed my hand and we jogged through the maze of quarters, toward the exit. At least a dozen people had gathered just outside, in the main corridor. Wyatt and I eased through to the front, and I gaped at what was happening.

  Two large white trucks, similar to what movers use for furniture, were parked in the middle of the corridor, angled slightly so their back ends faced the entrance to the vampires’ quarters. Vampire pairs dressed in familiar black warrior gear, their white hair pulled back or braided up, took turns carrying unconscious vampires up the ramps and into the trucks. After I watched the third vampire being taken up, arms dangling, head lolling, I realized that it wasn’t just the sick ones who were being carted off.

  Standing nearby in a small cluster were Astrid, Baylor, Kismet, and two vampires who exuded royalty. They wore deep purple robes, so dark they were almost black, and had purple jewels embedded in their foreheads. One was male, the other female. Tall, thin, and pale, they watched the proceedings with an intense quiet.

  Kismet spotted us. Instead of waving us over, she jogged to our side of the hall.

  “What’s going on?” Wyatt asked.

  “The royal Father of Isleen’s family has persuaded the other Fathers to remove the vampires we’ve quarantined here. Sick or healthy, they’re all going.”

  “Where?”

  “They won’t tell us. He says it’s a vampire illness and his people will deal with it. Without our help—he was sure to reiterate that several times.”

  I watched them drag an unconscious Quince out of the quarters and up the ramp. Kismet put a hand on my shoulder, and it kept me from bolting over there. “Shit,” I said. “Will they all be killed?”

  “I don’t know, Evy,” she said. “They have their own doctors, and we copied them on the information we took off Thackery’s laptop. If there’s a cure to be found—”

  “This is a mistake.”

  “Astrid already tried arguing that. A lot of us did, but the Fathers are insisting on containing it themselves.”

  Vampire after vampire was loaded onto the trucks, all of them allies, some of them friends. Eleri was one of the last to be taken, her skin blotchy and cracked and oozing blood.

  Someone nearby inhaled hard; it was a loud, angry sound that earned my attention. I spotted Paul standing near the wall with Crow—Eleri had been their squad leader. Paul was glaring at the vampires with a kind of disgust I didn’t recognize at first. Then I understood. He clearly didn’t agree with Eleri’s removal or her treatment. His support for his nonhuman squad mates shattered the last of the dislike I’d always felt toward him, and it allowed a hint of something brand new—respect.

  Even Isleen, daughter of a royal Father, was carted out the same way—like a fresh carcass. She was barely recognizable beneath the ravages of the unknown disease that I felt certain would kill her before the sun rose.

  Even if it didn’t, she and her fellow infected vampires would never be the same again.

  The truck doors were slammed shut, then they backed out slowly the way they’d come. Astrid and Baylor escorted the vampire royalty on foot, until they turned the corner and were gone. One-third of the Watchtower forces were depleted in minutes.

  “Did the vampires pull their support completely?” I asked. “Of the Watchtower and what we’re doing here?”

  “They pulled out temporarily,” Kismet said, making air quotes around the last word.

  “What about the Sanctuary?”

  “One of the Fathers set a magical lock of some sort. He said if anyone tries to enter, we’ll get blasted.”

  I’d felt magic blasts before; they sucked.

  “Our greater concern is the Fey,” she said. “We have no way to anticipate their next move, no way to prepare for or prevent it.”

  “We also have the possibility of more intelligent Halfies out there,” Wyatt said. “Plus at least three Lupa teenagers.”

  “Not to mention the everyday crazy street-thug Halfies and a whole horde of goblins who haven’t been seen or heard from in long enough to make me really nervous.”

  Goblins. They hadn’t been a real threat since Olsmill. But that battle was three months ago, more than enough time for them to regroup and come up with a new plan. The only enemies I underestimated anymore were the dead ones—and even then, it could be iffy.

  I didn’t want to think about it right at that moment, though. “You know what we’re going to do?” I said.

  “What?” Wyatt asked.

  “We’re going to get something to eat. Then I’m going back to bed.”

  He stared. Kismet looked at me like I’d grown a second head.

  “I think this has been the longest damned day of my life,” I said. “If the world doesn’t end before I wake up tomorrow morning, we’ll work out a plan. Until then, all I can really deal with is food and sleep.”

  Wyatt slipped an arm across my shoulders, and I leaned into him. “Food and sleep sound fantastic,” he said.

  “Says the man who spent half of yesterday in an induced coma.”

  “Hey, only a few hours of it.”

  “Whatever,” Kismet said, throwing her hands up. “You two find me when you wake up and we’ll see what’s what, okay?”

  Wyatt and I mumbled our agreement.

  The corridor was clearing out, leaving only a handful of loiterers. Leaning against the nearby wall, Paul was still staring at the now-empty vampire quarters. I used to look at him and feel a surge of anger, seeing only the boy who’d shot and killed Wyatt. Now I saw a young man, hardened by the worst job he’d ever had, sharpened by anger and loss. I saw someone so much like my former self that my heart ached.

  “Paul?” I said.

  He jumped, casting about for the source of the voice. “Yeah?”

  “You hungry?”

  Wyatt gave me a curious look that was perfectly matched by Paul. “I could eat,” Paul said.

  “We’re heading to the cafeteria. Why don’t you come with us?”

  Paul’s curiosity shifted from me to Wyatt, then back again. He smiled. “Okay,” he said, and the three of us set off in search of food.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  On Monday afternoon, a memorial service for Michael Jenner was held in the city’s high school gymnasium. Someone called in a favor and, with school still out for the summer, the request was granted. Hundreds (if not close to a thousand) Therians filled the bleachers—more than I’d ever seen gathered in one place at any given time. The majority were Equi, but every Clan was represented—either in the audience or by their Elder.

  At one time, fourteen Elders sat on the Assembly; now the Stri were extinct and only four Coni remained. Thanks to an early-morning tutoring session with Kyle, I knew the names of the remaining twelve Clans represented by the Elders seated together on a dais. Six I knew on sight because they had members in the Watch. The sorting of the remaining six remained a temporary mystery, and it was difficult to imagine that one of them could shift into a Komodo dragon.

  The only person missing from the group of Elders was Phineas, who’d chosen to sit down among the other Watchtower representatives—everyone except for a skeleton crew had come. A dozen people separated us, including Tybalt, Sharpe, Milo, Marcus, Astrid, Leah, and Jackson. Even Autumn showed up, her throat impressively wrapped in white bandages, upright if a little stoned from painkillers.

  I hadn’t managed to ask Phin why he wasn’t on the stage with the other Elders, and as the first person rose to speak, I lost the chance to find out. Kismet and Baylor sat on my right. Wyatt was on my left, my constant companion. I was even getting used to his new silver-rimmed eyes.

  When we’d first arrived, some Therians whispered; others bared their teeth. No one was
dumb enough to directly threaten either of us.

  The service was brief—more of a reflection on Jenner’s commitment to the Clans and the Assembly than a memorial to his life. Considering Therians’ relatively brief life spans, I imagined they rarely had elaborate funerals. Unlike the human rituals meant to comfort those left behind. Few faces in the massive crowd seemed comforted. Mostly they looked angry.

  After the service concluded, I cornered Phineas to find out what was going on. He shocked the hell out of me by saying, “I resigned my position as an Elder.”

  “You … why?”

  “There are too few of us left, Evy. Ava, Aurora, and Joseph were taken because I was too far away to protect them. I cannot serve as an Elder if I can’t even protect three. We’re all that’s left.”

  “So what are you going to do? Guard them twenty-four-seven?”

  “No. Elder Dane has graciously allowed them to live in his home temporarily. Because he shares a rather large, security-heavy house with the Felia Pride’s Alpha, they’ll be more than safe there.”

  “While you do what?”

  His expression softened, becoming almost sad. “I’m going away for a while.”

  “What? Why?” My heart pounded harder.

  “To be certain that we’re alone. Therians live across the globe, but many have chosen to live as outsiders, as animals. My people, the Coni and Stri, embraced our lives among humans. There may be others out there like us. I have to know.” He swallowed hard, his blue eyes glistening. “I have to know if the last of my people will die with Ava.”

  I understood, and my heart ached for him. “When?”

  “Tonight.”

  That hurt like a fist to the eye. “Were you going to say good-bye?”

  “Astrid knows my plans, but no. It would have been easier to simply go.”

  “You’re coming back.” It was not a question.

  “Of course.” He smiled warmly. “My family is here, my friends are here. Just try to not get into too much trouble while I’m gone.”