The Fey

by Claudia Hall Christian

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  September 29

  Downtown Denver, Colorado

  After spending a gut-wrenching day documenting everything that had happened in Paris, Alex excused herself from an afternoon meeting and a working dinner. She wanted to take a long bath.

  When Raz came to check on her, she was sound asleep in the tub. He helped her out of the tub and got her into bed before he left for their working dinner. Concerned about leaving her alone—and exhausted himself—he promised to return early. He had peeked in around nine o’clock and found her curled up in a ball sound asleep. With a sigh of relief, he was asleep in ten minutes.

  Max and John arrived from Paris around midnight. Peeking into the rooms, they found Alex and Raz sound asleep with their doors open to the suite. John pulled Raz’s door closed and raised a hand in good-bye to Max. He went into Alex’s room. Max returned to the room he had been using.

  Pulling off his clothing, John slipped under the covers. He watched Alex sleep for a few moments. Drawn, as if by a magnet, his lips brushed her cheek and her ear. When she moved her hand, as if to bat at a fly, he put her fingers into his mouth. She sighed, rolling onto her back, and he slipped on top of her. She smiled slightly in her sleep and then opened and shut her eyes. Her arms went around him.

  His lips caught hers, pulling at her tongue, while his hands drew the T-shirt over her head. His mouth moved along her neck and took her nipple, flicking his tongue across its rising focus. She opened her eyes, looking down at him, as his mouth moved across her belly. His teeth pulled at the diamond in her belly button. His tongue explored the contours behind the gem. His fingers grasped her behind, slipping off her panties while his mouth worked along her fleshy contours and sensitive soft folds. She gasped in pleasure, wide-awake, and held his head in place.

  He chuckled, “Welcome home?”

  She shifted her hips, rocking to his attention, until she moaned in rising intensity. She pulled him up toward her and he plowed into her moist depth. As she shuddered against him, he pressed forward. She wrapped her legs around his hips, giving him access to her deepest zones. He worked his hips against her, while his mouth tortured her neck and nipples. He returned to plundering her mouth. She clutched at him, lost in sensation. They began releasing together in waves of intense pleasure, rising and falling, until he let go deep within her.

  Resting with his head on her shoulder, he said, “I have some news.”

  “Uh huh,” she said. Her fingers played with the curls in his hair.

  “I’m not a father,” John said.

  Alex lifted her head to look at him. He nodded.

  “Ben gave me the DNA results before we left Paris.”

  “Who is?”

  “Néall. He’s also my brother.”

  Alex smiled. “Bastard.”

  “Yes—one more thing we have in common,” he said.

  “Hmm.” Alex shifted slightly, and John moved to the bed. He stroked her warm body.

  “I’ve only been married one time.”

  “To Eimilie?” she kissed his lips.

  “To you. I am your lawfully wedded husband.”

  “I was having so much fun as the other woman.”

  “Our international lawyer spent the day in London. He confirmed that the records were not filed and that the notation by the priest in London does not constitute a legal marriage. The priest, who is no longer living, cannot verify the written account. You know that Father Seamus has confirmed with Rome that our marriage is valid.”

  “That is good news,” she said. “How shall we celebrate?”

  “I have an idea,” John said.

  Alex giggled when he pulled her on top of him.

  FFFFFF

  One week later

  October 8—4:30 A.M.

  Fort Logan National Cemetery, Colorado

  “That’s the best we could do.” Trece turned around in the front seat of an armored black Expedition. “The area is clear by satellite and heat. You have a half hour to yourselves.”

  Joseph and Alex were sitting in the middle seat of the car, with Matthew and Troy in the back. Joseph nodded to Trece. They were parked by the Fey Special Forces team Memorial at Fort Logan National Cemetery.

  “We’ll talk about the Circus when you’re done,” the White Boy said from the driver’s seat.

  “We can’t leave you here alone,” Matthew said. He put a hand on Alex’s shoulder and the other on Joseph’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  Alex turned to look at him, “Thanks for doing this.”

  “I’m on watch,” Troy said.

  Glancing at the rifle and scope in Troy’s hand, Joseph nodded.

  “You’re burning time,” Trece said.

  Alex opened the door to the Expedition. Stepping into the cold October pre-dawn, she held her hand out to Joseph. They walked around the Expedition to the Memorial, and Troy stood in the doorway of the truck. Alex turned one last time and caught the watchful eyes of her friends. She walked to the Memorial. As they approached, they saw that the families had decorated the graves for the anniversary.

  Starting at Alexander’s grave, adorned with a large bouquet of sunflowers, Joseph set a votive candle and a stick of incense. Together, they clicked their lighters touching the flame to the candle and then to the incense. They moved in silence to Nathan’s grave.

  A picture of Nathan hugging his teenage son was stuck in the grass next to the grave. Making a space for the candle, Alex pointed to a picture of a baby, Nathan’s first grandchild. Joseph kneeled to pick up the pictures. Ripping a plastic picture holder from his wallet, Joseph slipped the pictures into the holder and placed them near the top of the grave. Nathan talked about his son all the time. Alex touched the baby’s picture with her index finger. She could almost hear him brag about the baby. Sniffing back their tears, they lit the candle and incense.

  Paul’s grave had a bright-red bouquet of Gerbera daisies on top. Alex saw a drop of water on the flowers and looked to the sky to see if it was raining. Unable to see the clear sky through her clouded eyes, she realized that she was crying. As they touched flame to the votive candle and incense, she saw tears dropping from Joseph’s eyes as well.

  Alex fingered Jax’s tattered Badwater Ultramarathon T-shirt, his lucky shirt from his first Badwater. Joseph pointed to the stethoscope near the top of Jax’s grave.

  “He would have been such a great doctor,” Joseph whispered.

  Alex nodded. Bending together, they lit the candle and incense at Jax’s grave.

  Dean’s grave was covered with crayon drawings. Alex touched a plastic-wrapped crayon picture of Dean. Joseph held up a crayon picture of a red girl and purple boy with their green mother. In block blue letters, the child had written: “WHERE ARE YOU DADDY?” Alex covered her mouth to stifle a sob. Joseph moved the pictures away from the flames, and they lit the candle and incense.

  Scott’s grave was clean and polished. Andi, his flower-child wife, had painstakingly clipped the grass around the granite stone. A tidy and precise person, this is exactly how Scott would have wanted his grave. Joseph and Alex placed the candle and incense away from the stone so as not to disrupt the precision.

  “Andi misses him horribly,” Alex said.

  “Me, too,” Joseph nodded.

  Alex looked up to see Jesse standing next to Tommy’s grave.

  “Get down,” Jesse said. “M-21, long-range rifle.”

  Alex tackled Joseph just before two shots rang out across the Memorial. Jumping from the Expedition, Trece and the White Boy ran to Alex and Joseph, while Matthew took off running across the grass.

  “Are you all right?” Trece pulled Alex to standing.

  “We’re fine.” Joseph took the White Boy’s offered hand.

  “Finish up,” Trece said. “We’ll take care of this.”

  Tommy’s stone was covered with sayings written in white wax pencil. Tommy loved language, words, and communication. A variety of hands had written his favorite sayings on the
black granite with his favorite saying, “Only the mediocre are always at their best,” under his name. Alex smiled touching the “I love you” written in a teenage girl’s hearts and curls. They lit a candle and incense for Tommy the communicator.

  Alex touched the Pyrex cooking dish sitting on Dwight’s grave. Raised by his grandmother after his mother had overdosed on heroin, Dwight’s grandmother brought his favorite meal to his grave every Sunday. The groundskeepers asked her to stop. She told them that she had made her baby Sunday dinner every week for almost forty years. She was not going to stop because of some groundskeeper. Joseph made a face when he opened the lid. They placed the candle and lit the incense against the smell as much as to remember their friend.

  Overcome with sadness, Alex fell to her knees in front of Jesse’s grave. Even with the apparition of her friend floating nearby, she felt Jesse’s loss like a hole in her heart and her life. Reaching into her pocket, she intended to leave the St. Christopher medallion among the bright pink and blue blossoms that she and Maria painstakingly had lain on top of his granite marker.

  “What’s that?” Joseph asked.

  “I found Jesse’s St. Christopher in the vault. It was the only gift he ever received from his mother. I was going to leave it here.”

  “I think Jesse would want you to keep it,” Joseph said.

  “I keep telling you that,” Jesse said.

  Alex nodded and placed the medallion back in her pocket. Joseph dropped to his knees to hug her. With an arm around each other, they lit the candle and incense.

  Alex wiped her face with her hands. Still on her knees, she placed a piece of incense at Mike’s grave. She flicked a leaf off the top of the grave and then wiped the dust with the arm of her jacket. Joseph gave her his handkerchief, and she cleaned the granite.

  “She’s with a woman now,” Joseph said of Mike’s wife.

  Alex nodded. Married on paper only, Mike and his wife stayed together for their three children. Alex’s heart broke to see that powerful, funny, quick-to-temper, loveable Mike received as little from his wife in death as he had in life. She promised herself to look after his grave. Lighting the incense and candle at Mike’s grave from her kneeling position, she looked around for Joseph.

  Joseph was standing, sobbing into his hands, at the end of Charlie’s grave. Alex stood to hug Joseph. For a moment, he pushed her away. Then, he dropped his head to her shoulder and wept. He had no words to express his loss, a sadness that never seemed to lessen.

  They stood crying in each other’s arms at the end of Charlie’s grave until, hearing cars driving into the Memorial, they knew their time was up. They bent to light the candle and incense for Charlie together. Joseph collapsed against her in grief. Alex held him up with an arm around his waist.

  Trece and the White Boy, armed with M-16 machine guns, came forward again to escort them to the Expedition. Once in the car, Troy pressed Joseph and Alex’s heads into their laps. The Expedition slowed to pick up Matthew. They drove out of the cemetery.

  “Can we get up yet?” Alex asked.

  “You’re so beautiful like that,” Trece said. “I thought we’d just leave you there.”

  Alex laughed and sat up.

  “Snooze?” she asked. They had planned to meet Max, John, and Erin for breakfast at their favorite breakfast restaurant.

  “I going to have pineapple upside-down pancakes,” Trece said.

  “You’re off carbs, Trece,” the White Boy said.

  “That’s right, I’m not eating carbs right now. My percent fat is up a half point.”

  “It’s a celebration of life,” Joseph said. “Pineapple upside-down pancakes sound perfect.”

  “Oh sure—you want me to get fat. Just because I’m at four and a half percent fat and you are not doesn’t mean I should get fatter. Jeez. Alex, you didn’t tell me that your Captain was a food enabler.”

  “A what?” Alex asked. “Wait, I don’t want . . .”

  “Someone who encourages people to eat food that’s not good for them. Honestly, Alex, I thought you knew that. I mean . . .”

  “Andy!”

  “Oh right, I’m supposed to be quiet so you can reflect. You have to admit. I’ve been doing a good job keeping quiet.”

  “I think you’ve been doing a great job, Trece,” the White Boy said.

  “I am trying to be respectful. I’ve lost friends. Hell, I lost Jesse. I might not have spent every day with Jesse, but I loved him. Losing friends is like a wound that never ever heals. Sure, you feel guilty that you survived, especially when you see the families. I mean . . .”

  “ANDY!” Alex, Joseph, Matthew, and Troy said in unison.

  “You guys sound pretty good. Oh, all right. I’m going to be quiet now.”

  Trece zipped his lips with his hand and looked out the window. They drove to the edge of Fort Logan National Cemetery.

  “Where are we going?” Trece asked.

  Everyone laughed.

  F