by Cate Dean
“Alex.” He smiled, some of the color coming back to his face. “You have a generous heart. Don’t let me or anyone else take that away from you.”
I blushed, and ducked my head, stepping back to the entrance. Misty waved to me before she disappeared, and Candace was already gone. She’d warn everyone who was on their way down. “Whenever you’re ready. Oh, and Detective? Whatever you do, don’t react to the residents. It’s going to be traumatic enough without you running and screaming.”
Both he and Simon laughed, easing the last of the tension.
“I think I can control the urge,” he said. “After you.”
I scooted into the hole and grabbed the ladder, climbing down just enough for him to follow after me. As soon as his foot was in range, I laid my hand on his ankle.
“The ladder’s not as long as it looks. A step at a time, and we’ll be down before you know it.”
I descended, touching his ankle whenever I could, to let him know he wasn’t alone in here. By the time we reached the bottom he was breathless and sweaty. I helped him off the ladder, waited for him to compose himself. He jumped when Simon joined us.
“All right,” he said, though he still looked a little—shell shocked was the term that popped into my mind. “Take me to your haven.”
Simon and I flanked him—more for protection than to keep him from heading the wrong direction. The second we reached the head of the twisting main street, residents appeared. I felt Detective Sampson stiffen, and grabbed his wrist before he could even think of touching his weapon.
“You won’t need it,” I whispered. “And they won’t hesitate to defend themselves if they see you as a threat.”
I’d been the horrified witness of that scenario, when a demon decided one of the other residents had violent intentions, and ambushed them. It took Jake in his Fenris form and the Devil to pull them apart. The demon was banned, and the other resident transferred to the Santa Luna haven.
Speak of the Devil—she stepped out of her building, blending into the shadows of the darkened boardwalk. Since she was so sensitive to light, we kept the gaslights along her building off. It did make for a heart-stopping encounter every once in a while.
Detective Sampson let out a strangled shout. I moved fast, putting myself between him and the Devil.
“What the hell is that?”
“That is a she, and she’s one of our security measures.” I kept my grip on his right wrist. “You wanted to see the haven—part of that is following the rules, and not shooting the residents. Are we clear?”
After long, nerve-wracking seconds, he nodded. “I just—I knew they were here, but knowing and seeing . . .” He pushed hair off his forehead. “I need a minute to process.”
Simon gave him that minute, then led him past the silent, watching residents. I had to respect the detective; he didn’t so much as flinch at what had to be nerve-shredding attention.
We headed for the office. It was one of the only buildings where everyone outside of management needed permission to enter. I could also lock the door, which was a big plus.
We never made it.
Sam appeared out of the alley between the office and the next building, running straight at us.
“Sam—what—”
“Get him out of here!”
I saw the reason for his panic a second later.
Hern’s mother came loping out of the alley, her fear and fury like a double punch. They knocked Sam against one of the support posts.
“You will not harm my sweetling!”
Her emotion knocked me off my feet, but both Simon and Detective Sampson stood, putting themselves between me and the demon. Sam picked himself up and came after her.
Simon spoke, in a guttural language I never heard before. And another voice wrapped around his—one I had heard before. Elias.
The demon reared up, her claws inches from Simon’s face. I scrambled to my feet when Detective Sampson grabbed his weapon. Simon beat me to it, catching his wrist, his gaze still on the demon. Hern’s mother refused to take a human name, and none of us could pronounce her real name. I heard Simon say it, in a language that scraped against my ears.
Whatever he was saying gradually calmed her. She lowered herself, and Hern loped out of their rooms, grabbing her arm.
“Mama! They won’t hurt us, Mama, you know we’re safe here. Not like the other place. They don’t let bad humans down here like they did in the other place.”
“Sweetling.” She wrapped him in her arms, and Hern clung to her, not embarrassed by her overt smothering. “That human is part of their authority, and I was so afraid they had come—”
“I know, Mama.” Hern leaned back, patted her cheeks. “You were protecting us. We’re safe here. Sam won’t let anyone in who might hurt us. Okay? Let’s go home.”
She squeezed him again, and let go long enough to take his hand, and let him lead her back to their rooms. Hern glanced over his shoulder and gave me a toothy smile. He had become one courageous little demon. Kenny wasn’t the only one benefiting from their friendship.
Sam waited until they disappeared before he turned on us. “What the hell is he doing here?”
“Investigating a murder.” Detective Sampson stepped to him, eye level. I didn’t realize that Sam had gotten taller until I saw them together. “From the tension down here, I’m guessing the one aboveground isn’t the only, or the first.”
“What happens here is none of your damn business.”
“When it’s connected to one of my murder investigations, it becomes my business. How many have you lost?”
Sam stared at him. The quiet sorrow in Detective Sampson’s voice surprised him as much as it did me.
“Two,” he whispered. “Both demons.”
“Were they killed the same as Matt?”
Sam flinched. “Yes.”
“I am sorry for your friend, and for your loss, but I can’t stand by and let someone else die.”
“I agree.”
Horror swept through me, because I knew what Sam was about to do. Apparently, so did Simon. He grabbed me before I could bolt forward.
“Let me go—”
“He needs to do this, Alex.” Simon whispered against my cheek, his grip too strong for me to even think of escaping.
Helpless, I watched Sam hold up his wrists. “Lock me up, Detective, before I can do it again.”
10
“Sam.” Detective Sampson laid one hand on his shoulder—and what he said next would change the way I felt about him for good. “Let’s go inside and talk.”
Surprise flared in Sam’s eyes, but he nodded, and led the detective to the office.
Since Simon still held me in a death grip, I couldn’t follow them. I had a feeling Detective Sampson wouldn’t have let me be part of the conversation anyway. After they stepped inside the office, and I heard the door lock, Simon let me go.
“Sam will be fine, Alex.” He cradled my cheek, and I couldn’t be mad at him—not when he was putting the safety of the haven ahead of everything. That was more important, because without it, the monsters we protected would never feel like they belonged. “Why don’t we get you and Misty . . .” His voice faded as he stared over my shoulder. “Who is that?”
I turned around. The only person in his line of sight was Oliver. “That’s Oliver—the Fenris. The one who never changed. Haven’t you met him yet?”
“No—and he’s lying.”
Simon sprinted down the street, and to my horror he tackled Oliver, pinning him to the ground.
“Simon!” I limp ran after him, terrified he’d do something irreversible to Oliver. The Fenris was our only chance to help Sam and Jake. “Simon, stop—”
I skidded to a halt when I saw the silver-shot gold light surrounding him. Elias. Oh, double damn.
“Why are you lying to them, Fenris?” Elias’ voice laid over Simon’s again, rage slicing across every word.
“I am not—I am here to help. I know how to keep
them from changing—”
“I find that hard to believe, when the stink of a Fenris is all over you.”
A strong hand gripped my arm, and I looked up. Detective Sampson was right next to me, Sam behind him, and they were both obviously determined to drag me away.
“It’s okay—Sam, it’s okay. You’re seeing Elias.” Sam didn’t get that far when we went to rescue Simon. “The fallen angel, and the reason Simon is alive again.”
“I never—” Detective Sampson ran his free hand through his hair. “They’re not supposed to be real.”
I glanced up at him. “A shock to the system, isn’t it?”
Simon hauled Oliver to his feet, that silver-shot glow surrounding them. Oliver fought to free himself, but he was no match for Simon, even with the extra strength of a Fenris. The Devil was hard pressed to best him.
“Your energy is wrong,” Simon whispered, his voice raw. I knew he was pushing hard to read Oliver. “What are you?”
“I am a Fenris who has mastered his own rage. You’ve never seen my like, and you never will. Now unhand me, or I will be forced to request your ejection from this haven.”
His arrogance startled me. He’d always been kind—weird, but kind, especially to newcomers.
The residents in hearing murmured, some of them using exotic curses. Everyone here liked Simon, because he truly cared about them, saw them as an individual, not a monster. They didn’t have to hide, or pretend, and he could get to the heart of them, gently, and with great respect. Half of them owed their presence here to him.
“Not happening,” Sam said. Oh, he was beyond angry. I didn’t see him interact much with Oliver, but I could see now that he didn’t like the Fenris. “You’ll go before Simon does.”
“Oliver.” I glanced at Detective Sampson, and he let out a frustrated sigh before he freed me. I understood; he wasn’t in control here, and he was used to being in control. “There’s no need for this to escalate.”
His eyes lit up when he saw me. “Alex.”
Sam growled, and Oliver tried to jerk out of Simon’s grip.
I approached them, slowly. Elias has a hair trigger temper, and I wasn’t sure who was in control at the moment.
“Simon.” His head snapped around, those clear green eyes almost glowing, and so filled with rage I wanted to take a few giant steps back. “Please let him go. We can take this discussion in the office—”
“I want nothing to do with him.” He freed Oliver and stalked over to me, leaning in to speak so only I could hear him. “He’s not what he seems, Alex. His power is—murky. And Elias is practically jumping out of my skin with the need to strike him down.”
“Thanks for controlling it.”
The rage faded, and he was Simon again. “Watch yourself with him, sweetheart. I know how important his information is to you, but there’s something off with him.” He rubbed his forehead. “Damn. I’m going to have one nasty migraine soon.”
“You can stay—”
“Not with him here. It’s taking all my persuasion to keep Elias contained. I’ll try to sort it out later, when he’s more—coherent. Just be cautious, and don’t trust too easily.” He kissed my forehead and walked past me, heading for the edge of town.
“Alex.” Oliver approached me. I wasn’t surprised when Detective Sampson stepped in front of me, one hand on his pistol. “This is a misunderstanding. One I would discuss with you, in private.”
Detective Sampson answered for me. “When Hell freezes over.”
“Detective—”
He turned on me. “You’re going home, Alex. Now.”
“I agree,” Sam said.
I didn’t want to argue—not in front of the entire haven, and not when Sam’s rejection hurt so much that stupid, uncontrollable tears stung my eyes.
I nodded, limping back toward the exit. Every eye followed our progress, some of them watching Oliver watch me, like the audience at a tennis match.
Sam paced me, and finally spoke when we reached the ladder.
“Please don’t come back. Not until—”
“Fine.” I was angry, and so close to breaking down it came out snippy.
“Alex. I don’t want you hurt.” Too late for that. “And it could be me hurting you.”
“Sam.” His raw confession stripped away the anger, and the tears started. He was reaching for me when I stepped to him. I held on, fought not to cry all over him. When I got my runaway emotions under control, I looked up at him. The pain in his grey-blue eyes tore at me. “We’ll find the truth. I believe in you. Remember that.”
He kissed me, the touch of his lips, his tongue desperate, his breathing ragged. By the time we came up for air I was pinned between him and the wall, and we had an audience. A large audience.
“Sam—” He cut me off, his kiss gentle this time. I recognized it for what it was. He was saying goodbye. I pulled free and twisted my hand into the front of his shirt. “Don’t you dare let me go. Do you understand? No matter what happens, we’re in this together, to the end. Got it?”
He leaned his forehead against mine. “I don’t deserve you, Alex.”
“You got me. Always, Sam.”
A throat cleared behind us. Sam ignored it and kissed me again. This time it was short, but so thorough my head was spinning when he let me go.
“Don’t come back until this is over. I’ll come and see you, when I can.”
“You better.”
He smiled, and the weight on my heart eased.
“Time to go,” he said. “Before Detective Sampson loses what control he still has.”
I glanced over at the detective. Sam was right—he did not look happy.
“Sam, you didn’t do anything stupid, like confess to him, did you?”
“No time.” He sighed at my raised eyebrows. “I wasn’t planning on confessing. But I was going to tell him about the murders. I still plan to. I think whoever killed the residents also killed Matt.” The grief in his eyes squeezed my heart. “I can’t go to the funeral.”
“What? You have to—”
“I don’t know that I didn’t do it, Alex. Until I’m sure . . .”
He started to turn away from me, and I wrapped my arms around him, just holding him. He lowered his head to my shoulder and held on to me, until his breathing evened. I let go when his arms dropped.
“Rethink your decision, Sam. Matt’s family will expect to see you there.”
“I’ll—okay.” Whatever wall he’d built between himself and Matt’s death was crumbling. I could see it in his eyes, and the way his shoulders slumped. “Call me when you get home, so I know you made it.”
“I love you, Sam.”
“I love you back.” He stepped away and turned to Detective Sampson. “Take care of her.”
“My word on it, Sam.”
Misty joined me, quiet and frowning. She squeezed my hand, and climbed the ladder.
Detective Sampson joined me, and I almost flinched at the anger rolling off him. He pulled me to the ladder, and climbed up without even breathing heavy.
Misty helped me out when I reached the top. “Ready to go?”
“I’ll be taking her home, Miss Corwin.”
She crossed her arms. “And if the killer comes after her?”
Detective Sampson touched the pistol on his belt. “The bastard won’t get anywhere near her.”
“If she gets so much as a scratch, Detective, I’m coming after you.” She hugged me, hard and fast. “Call me when you get home.”
“I will.”
With a final glare at Detective Sampson, she disappeared around the corner of the house. Leaving us alone.
“Detective—”
“Not a word.” He grabbed my hand, and didn’t let go of me until I was in the passenger seat of his car. “I want you away from this place, away from those—”
“Don’t use the word, or I’ll get out of this car, and not speak to you again. Ever.”
He leaned back, crossing his arm
s. “I’ll respect your wishes, as long as you respect mine. Stay out of this.”
“I can’t. Not as long as Sam, or anyone at the haven is involved.”
“Alex—”
“I’m one of the only lifelines they have to the outside world. I take that responsibility seriously.” Far too angry to be in a confined space with him, I shoved the door open and climbed out of the car, expecting him to stop me.
When he didn’t, I risked a glance over my shoulder. He stood next to the driver’s door, watching me, and the concern on his face almost had me returning. But I thought of Sam, and it kept me walking. No matter what, he came first, and the haven right after him.
Of course, all I had to do was convince my parents that he was still innocent, so they wouldn’t ban me from seeing him again. Because I knew by now they’d know about the latest murder, and that Sam was found at the scene.
It was going to be a long night.
~ ~ ~
Mom and Dad weren’t home when I finally limped back from the McGinty house, physically and emotionally exhausted. I made the necessary phone calls as I leaned against the refrigerator door, too exhausted to eat. But I had to eat something—my stomach was nagging me, and I also felt lightheaded.
After staring blankly at the contents, I snapped myself out of my stupor, and settled on a cheese sandwich. Along with my salt and vinegar chips, it would hold me over until I was coherent enough to plan out a real dinner. It was easy to slap some cheese and mayo on sourdough bread—I’ve done it so many times, I could probably do it in my sleep.
Food in hand, I limped up the stairs, set the sandwich and the bag of chips on my bedside table, then collapsed on my bed. All I needed was a few minutes, just a few minutes to rest, before I hit the ground running again.
~ ~ ~
“Alex.”
I jerked awake at the quiet voice. Dad sat next to me on the bed, his hand spread across my back.
“Dad. I’m okay. . .” My protest faded as I looked at the window. It was dark out. Dad had turned on every light in my room, so I didn’t notice. “What time is it?”
