“Oh, my God…” she whispered, swallowing hard, as she gazed into his eyes; “Your brother?”
“Yeah,” he affirmed with a nod. “You’re right. It does look like those people died in a freak accident. But, when I heard about my brother’s death, I asked for an autopsy. The coroner didn’t find any carbon monoxide in his lungs. Jonathan died of a heart attack. Which is weird, given the fact that he was just forty-six years old, and his medical history was spotless. By law, FBI agents and cops can’t investigate the death of first degree relatives, but my supervisor owed me a favor, so…” he paused. “Here I am.”
Helena couldn’t believe her ears. The tragic loss of his brother sent her heart into a downward spiral. Cliff’s words fueled her guilt, which instantly turned into a ravenous beast, threatening to consume her. Her first thought was to tell him the truth. She knew what had caused Jonathan’s heart attack. The mere view of a massive wolf was enough to literally scare anyone to death. Still, her shock was too profound for her to force even one word out of her throat. Plus, even if she could find the strength to speak up, she would not betray her family. The witch parted her lips, hoping to utter a simple sentence, but, as she did, a tear toppled over the edge of Cliff’s eye, making her heart sink even more into despair.
“I keep wracking my brain…” Cliff sighed, his voice wobbly, as he lifted his glass to his mouth. “What could have caused him to have a heart attack?”
“I take it you were close,” Helena assumed, as the bartender put her drink in front of her.
“Jonnie was more than a brother to me,” he declared, downing his drink. “Our folks got killed in a car accident, when I was three. He raised me.”
Cliff’s statement was like a dagger to Helena’s heart, once again leaving her breathless, taking away her ability to speak. Cliff banged his glass onto the wooden surface, as he turned to her. She could tell by the eagerness in his teary eyes that he had been expecting her to address him, but, what could Helena really say to him? What would soothe his pain? What would comfort a man who had lost his brother, his flesh and blood? The answer was simple: absolutely nothing; especially just seven days after Jonathan’s death. Cliff slowly blinked, the whites of his eyes turned into a shade of dark red, and he unfurled his fingers from around his glass. Tension tightened the back of Helena’s neck as his body swayed towards her. In the blink of an eye, he crashed onto her, knocking her off balance. Helena’s brow’s popped up, as she thrust her left arm towards the bar. Cliff’s head was resting in the crook of her shoulder and neck, as she gripped the edge of the wooden surface.
“Bartender!” she choked out; “a little help here!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” the bartender yelled, moving around the counter. “Security!” he cried, glancing out at the two men near the entrance. “Don’t worry, Miss,” he continued, grabbing Cliff by the shoulders. “We have a doctor here. He’ll take good care of him.”
Chapter Five
Within seconds, Cliff was taken up to his hotel room, escorted by the doctor that the bartender had mentioned to Helena. His colleagues immediately gathered in the corridor outside his room, as the witch still tried to come to grips with what he had shared with her. Shocked to her core, she chose to stay on the other side of the hallway. The possibility of them asking her questions was more than a possibility. It was certainty, one that she could gladly do without. Helena was in no condition to handle three, persistent men. Satisfying their curiosity felt like a Herculean feat to her, as Cliff’s every sentence swirled in her mind. Despite her shock, however, she had to admit to herself that she had been extremely lucky. Cliff was plain and simply broken; and she had caught that man in his most vulnerable time. He had been using alcohol to numb his pain, and she was there to hear him out when he couldn’t help but speak. In her heart, the witch knew very well that, had he not been intoxicated, the chances of her finding out anything about the case were very slim. She might have felt for him, but it was more than obvious to her that his drunkenness had worked in her favor. Still, her job there wasn’t done. Helena had yet to discover the evidence Cliff had on the Bradford’s. His vulnerable state was an ideal opportunity to find out more information, and, if the witch wanted to take advantage, she had to stay put.
After a while, the doctor emerged from Cliff’s room. She was a little too far to hear what he was saying, but, judging by the smiles on the agents’ faces, Cliff was doing just fine. One by one, they entered his room, as she breathed a sigh of relief. But, it wasn’t long before she heard what sounded like her name. The voice was somewhat faint at first, but, very soon, a much clearer baritone echoed back at the walls of the corridor.
“Get me the redhead in the hot, green dress!”
The corners of her lips quirked up in a devilish smile, as she started towards his hotel room. Helena felt flattered that a total stranger like him desired to see her more than he wanted to be with his colleagues. Overflowing with confidence, she covered the distance that separated her from him in seconds. Striding into Cliff’s room, she ran into the three, baffled FBI agents, as they stared at the door. He was under the covers, with an even drowsier look on his face. His eyes had narrowed, but the green in them was darker, under the pale light.
“Helena,” he spoke, his voice calm and steady, as he glanced up at her. “I wasn’t expecting you to still be around.”
“You collapsed on me,” she teased, as her smile widened. “I had to make sure you were okay.”
“Give us the room, boys,” Cliff urged, as he flashed an appraising look at her. His colleagues obliged.
“So, how are you feeling?” Helena asked as she sauntered towards him.
“Like crap,” he gave a short laugh. “My stomach hurts and my head’s about to explode. The room’s spinning. But, it’s good you’re here. I wanted to apologize to you for…”
“Apologize!” she exclaimed, as her face twisted in confusion; “What for?”
“Nearly knocking you off your stool,” Cliff explained, his voice lowering, as she halted on the left side of his bed.
“You’re grieving,” Helena made her own voice sweeter sounding, bending her knees to sit down on the floor. “It’s totally understandable. Don’t beat yourself up over it, okay?”
“You’re not,” He emphasized, as his gaze followed her. “You’re not wearing black, and you didn’t even flinch when I told you I was sorry for your loss. How come? I mean, you’ve just lost your niece.”
“It’s hard to feel sorry for someone you’ve never even met,” she explained, banishing the rage that sent her voice down an octave. Donna’s treachery had been punished, but the mere remembrance of it was enough to upset her. “She used to live in L.A. She’d just moved into town.”
“She was still family,” Cliff insisted, a hint of annoyance in his tone.
“By blood? Sure, I suppose,” she responded, nodding at the same time. “But, blood ties to someone are not necessary for me to consider someone my family. I didn’t even know she existed, until three days before she moved in. Her father and I hadn’t spoken in years.”
“I understand,” he muttered under his breath, blinking even heavier than before. “Go, Helena. Don’t let me keep you from your friend.”
“She just sent me a text. She said she couldn’t make it,” A lie: another white lie, or, at least that’s what she thought, as she tore her gaze away from him. “Her baby’s got a bad cold. She’s taking him to the pediatrician.”
Helena anticipated some sort of a rebuttal, as she stared down at her heels. Yet, she never got one. For a moment, she believed that her reaction had given her away. But, as she returned her attention to him, she realized that he couldn’t have done so. There was peace in the FBI agent’s face. He had descended into Morpheus’ arms, as his chest rose up and down in rhythm. Disappointment unfurled in Helena’s chest. Any hope she had of getting more information was shattered. In the blink of an eye though, that awful feeling turned into an uncontrollable urge to remain by h
is side, just for a little while longer. A few strands of his hair were flowing over his forehead. His alluring mouth was shut, as the shadow of his cheekbone fell onto his clean-shaved cheek.
“Damn you, Daniels. Did you have to be so beautiful?” Helena thought to herself, unable to take her eyes off of him. The witch drew in a sharp breath, pondering her next move. However, all that beauty before her eyes could not be resisted. Cliff might have been the enemy, but in all her years, she had never seen such incredible features on a human’s face. Without much thought, she leaned over him, and lightly pressed her lips onto his cheek, wishing that he had not fallen asleep. Helena whispered “goodnight” in his ear, and then eased back, feeling her adrenaline storm into her veins. The rush made her consider disappearing, like she would do in any similar situation. But, there were dozens of cameras in that hotel, and she had no idea if Cliff’s coworkers were still outside his room. What if they walked in, and discovered she was gone? No, acting like a witch was not an option. Instead, Helena rose to her curvaceous, 5’6” figure, and turned around. Desperate to get out of there, she quickly put distance between them. She strode out of Cliff’s room, breathing faster, as she recalled the tranquility on his face.
“I’ve never been so tempted in my whole life. Snap out of it, Helena. Stay away from him. Find another way to put your hands on that evidence.”
Chapter Six
As the new day dawned, the witch still had a funny feeling over the night before. On one hand, she was proud of herself for acquiring at least some information about the case, simply by hearing Cliff out. On the other hand, however, she had left some unfinished business with him. In any case, Helena reached a decision, long before she woke up that morning. She wouldn’t attempt anything like the stunt she tried to pull the previous night. It was filled with peril, unpredictability, and, most importantly, temptation: sweet, delicious temptation, in the form of a young, handsome man, but the wrong man altogether. He remained an adversary that could wreak havoc on her birthplace, ruining the family she loved more than anything else in this world. Helena would not jeopardize what she had worked so hard to build for anybody, especially not for a stranger like him.
Nevertheless, she had to let everybody know about what had transpired between her and Cliff, particularly the Bradford brothers, who, up until then, had no clue about her endeavors. Therefore, she grabbed her staff, closing her eyes, as she pictured the place she wanted to be in that morning. Cold air and moisture struck her in the face, as she found herself in their front yard, just outside their workshop. The noises of a hammer being banged onto a metal surface, along with an impact drill were in the atmosphere, as she felt raindrops, soaking the top of her hood and the skin on her hands. Without much thought, she swung the wooden door open. Dean had bent down behind a silver motorcycle, operating the drill to punch a hole into the rear bumper, whereas Ray was working on an exhaust pipe, placed on the counter in front of him. Sadly though, there was no sign of Raul.
“Where is your brother?” Helena cried, instantly drawing their attention.
“Damn!” Ray chuckled, tossing his hammer across the counter, as Dean pressed the “off” button on his drill. “Not even a ‘good morning’? What’s the matter with you?”
“Pardon my manners, Ray,” she sighed, as she pulled her hood back from her head. “I really need to speak with him. Where is he?”
“The same place he’s been the past five days,” Dean interjected, as his lazy footsteps led him closer to her. “He’s down at the town hall, recruiting members to the pack. Is it me, or are you starting to forget things? I mean, you were there when he said he’d use the town hall to that end.”
“Certain events of late have distracted me,” she rebutted, using a more firm tone. “When is he coming back?”
“He won’t be home for at least another couple of hours,” Dean replied, as the corners of his eyes tightened. “You can tell us, Helena. You know that. Get it off your chest. We have something to say to you, too.”
“Fine,” Helena said with a nod. “Yesterday, I saw two SUV’s stop outside the science facility my brother and niece had been keeping Ray. It turns out the FBI has taken an interest in the case. I talked to one of the agents and I gave him my opinion of what had happened. His name is Cliff Daniels. I discussed the situation with the girls. Monica said – and I agreed with her – that the bodies must have provided them with enough evidence to start an investigation. Kate suggested I get closer to the agent I spoke to. I met him last night at his hotel. He was so drunk that he gave up a few details in no time. His brother worked at the facility. Cliff told me he died of a heart attack.”
“Let’s go back to that ‘get closer’ part,” Dean suggested, his voice picking up volume. “What do you mean by that?”
“That’s what you want to know? The lengths I would reach?” Helena squinted up at him, as her own voice turned into a high-pitched squeal. “I just told you the man’s brother is dead. He’s seeking justice for him. And, you know very well what it means. For your information, I’m not doing it again. I felt like a dirty whore. Thank God we didn’t get to that.”
“I think I know who you’re talking about,” Dean stated, his voice resuming a calm tone, as he put his hands on his waist. “There was this guy, standing in the hallway, when we barged in. He was petrified. He just…” he paused; “dropped to the floor, put his hands over his heart. He looked like he couldn’t breathe. We didn’t touch him; we didn’t have to. Anyway, don’t worry about that fed.”
“Why?” She inquired, the peace in his expression and his confidence adding to her already immense frustration.
“Because he’s not going to find anything,” Dean insisted, intensifying his stare, as he leaned towards her. “We destroyed everything: Hard drives, test tubes, microscopes, security cameras… His brother’s cause of death is just a clue. He’s got no traces, no fingerprints, no DNA. He doesn’t even have motive. He can look all he wants. He’ll still come up empty.”
“We got bigger fish to fry than the feds, Helena,” Ray interjected, a wave of tension washing over his face, as he moved around the counter. “Martin and Jimmy ran across a bloodsucker in the woods last night. Those two had a tough time bringing that son of a bitch down. He roughed them up pretty bad, but they got to him. Before they ripped his head off, he said something like: ‘The Redfield clan will avenge Darryl Lockhart. You’ll all die.’”
“A clan?” whispered Helena, feeling shockwaves coursing through her body, as she stared at Ray in disbelief. “How big is it?”
“We don’t know yet,” Dean murmured, pursing his lips. “Now, you see why I don’t care about the feds?”
“A vampire clan is a bigger threat,” the witch admitted, slightly raising her tone. “But, we can’t take the FBI threat lightly, boys. We need to find a way to pull the plug on that investigation, before it’s too late.”
“We’ll talk to Raul about it,” Ray replied in a mellow tone, smiling down at her, “after our little hunting trip tonight.”
“Yeah, the three of us will scour the area where Martin and Jimmy found that vampire,” Dean added to his brother’s words, taking a short step towards her. “Feel free to tag along.”
For an instant, Helena felt anger, brushing across her senses. Their knowledge on vampires was very limited, and yet, they had decided to go searching for them, without even consulting with her. Still, she quickly came to put that feeling aside. Too preoccupied with Cliff, she had been unreachable over the past twenty-four hours, and the Bradford’s were simply trying to protect their hometown. Going after their enemies was only natural.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Name the time and place,” she stated, as a big smile formed on her face. “Just remember to follow my instructions. You are way too ignorant when it comes to vampires. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dean saluted her, turning her smile into a grin of amusement; “Ten p.m., at the western edge of the woods, near ‘Joe
’s’ diner.”
The prospect of seeking vampires in the forest somewhat scared her. They were very strong, unpredictable creatures, who had no regard for life; human or shifter. Still, this would be a good chance to meet with Raul, and inform him on the progress she had made, assuming that his brothers didn’t speak to him first. Helena’s hope was that they would get rid of the vampire threat quickly, so that they could focus on retrieving the evidence from the FBI. She was determined to do everything in her power to accomplish that task.
Chapter Seven
The hours that remained until her rendezvous with Raul, Dean and Ray, gave Helena some time to reflect on the past two days, particularly on her conversation that morning with the “second son”, as she used to call Dean. His calmness had annoyed her, but it was rather typical of him. Self-control and a cool head were his inherent qualities, ever since she had met him. It would take something really special to scare or upset Dean Bradford. Obviously, that “something” was not an inquisitive federal agent. Still, in spite of his attitude, there was validity in his words. Even if the coroner managed to determine the cause of death of everybody in the science facility that day, how would that exactly implicate any of them? As far as the FBI was concerned, they were all ordinary people. They had no idea of the existence of the shifter kind, vampires or witches. Shifters had been masterful at keeping their secret. The government was blissfully unaware of the magical creatures that had been dwelling in the country for generations.
That night, Helena set off from Roman’s sanctuary, with a sense of anticipation and excitement. The last time she had been on a similar meeting, the four of them had defeated the rival pack of Dominic. Of course, she wasn’t intending to repeat that battle – after all, they couldn’t take on an entire clan of vampires all by themselves – but the mere memory of that pack’s destruction was enough to put a smile on her face. They had all fought bravely that night, and, if it hadn’t been for Julia’s near fatal injury, it would have been a perfect victory.
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