Shadows of Old Ghosts

by Stephanie Zayatz

  “She’s all right.” Moira took the glass out of his hand. “Mild sedative in her drink.”

  “Mild?”

  “Took her almost ten minutes to go down. Good god but that woman doesn’t know when to quit fighting.”

  “Moira!”

  She ignored him. “Can you get her up the stairs yourself?”

  “You just told her you didn’t have anything to give her for the pain.”

  “And you and I both know she would have refused it even if I did.”

  “So this is better?”

  “She won’t remember,” Moira said offhandedly. “She’d be in agony all night otherwise. This is for the best.”

  Jirel made a sound like he didn’t agree as he pulled Aviira into his arms as gently as possible.

  She led the way up the stairs and turned down the lengthy hallway to her left. Jirel followed her into the bedroom and she helped him lay Aviira down on the bed. Moira sat on the edge of the bed and laid a hand across her forehead.

  “Feverish,” she murmured. Jirel did not miss the tone of concern in her voice.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Likely some of the poison got into her system,” she replied. She shook her head a little. “She’ll work it out. Probably be sick as a dog in a few hours once this sedative wears off.”

  “Great,” Jirel murmured. He sat in the chair in the corner and leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees, bowing his head. Moira watched him for a long moment while she folded her towels and set them aside.

  “Hand me that,” she said to him, indicating a trash can under the window. He passed it over to her and she placed it next to the bed.

  “She’s going to be all right,” she reminded him. “You did right in bringing her to me.”

  “I know.” He fell quiet for a long while, eyes on Aviira, then said finally, “You knew I was coming. Did you know this was going to happen?”

  She sent him a short look. “I don’t see the future, you know that. Not until it’s just moments away from happening. And even if I had…what good would it have done?”

  “I don’t know.” He sat back in the chair and stared up at the ceiling, shaking his head in short, agitated jerks. “What’s the point of knowing everything about the past? Doesn’t help you change anything.”

  She glanced at him while she dabbed at Aviira’s forehead. “You’re sounding awfully bitter, considering the situation.”

  He gave her a heavy blink. “My career is on the line and we’ve got this case from hell and just as we’re gaining some ground my new partner is nearly assassinated. I was right there, Moira, and it happened practically in front of me and I did nothing.”

  “To be fair, she was attacked by a shade. There was nothing you could have done.”

  His head shook in that tight motion again. “I’m just saying I feel like I can’t catch a break no matter what I do.”

  “So you’re mad at me because I can’t tell the future?”

  “No.” He leaned back in the chair. “Just…thinking out loud. You know everything about the past of everyone you’ve ever spoken to and I don’t understand what use that is.”

  “The past is important because it gives us our future, even if we can’t see what that is,” Moira said. “Everything about what happened to us in the past is what defines where we go in the future. You don’t have to be happy about it, but you still have to accept it, and that’s something you’ve never done.”

  He faltered. “I’m sorry, how did this turn to me?”

  “I’m just reminding you,” she said quietly as she covered Aviira with the light blanket. “Nothing you ever do will change what happened that day in New York. You have every right to feel sadness about it but never to pretend it didn’t happen. You’ve always been in denial and that’s exactly what drove Caesli away. If you aren’t careful you’ll do the same to Aviira.”

  “Don’t—” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “That’s enough. Don’t bring her into this. That has nothing to do with why she left.”

  She pressed him. “The point of knowing the past is because it defines where we will go in the future. And if your past hadn’t been what it was, it would never have led you here.”

  “What’s so great about being here? Alone and barely hanging on to my career?”

  “Your past led you to Aviira,” Moira said quietly. “And I don’t have to be able to see the future to see that.”

  He was quiet a moment and swallowed. “I don’t know what that has to do with anything.”

  “You care for her.”

  “Of course I do. She’s my partner.”

  She scoffed. “Bullshit, Jirel. You know what I mean. A week ago you told her you thought you weren’t cut out to work together, so don’t give me that partner crap.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re really going to throw me under the bus for Caesli walking away and then turn around and tell me I have a future with someone I’ve known for not even two weeks?”

  “I’ve known you for a long time, Jirel. When Caesli left, I saw this spark leave you. And it’s been gone from you since then.” She gave him an earnest look. “I see that again,” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “I’m not doing that again,” he said very quietly.

  “Doing what?”

  A swell of resentment bubbled up in him so fiercely that he actually stuttered trying to get the words out in the correct language. “I won’t put my heart on a fucking platter again so that it can be broken because I can’t have a normal life. Don’t you understand that?”

  “Don’t even try that, young man,” Moira said in a dark tone. “I’ve already watched my entire family die. Years and years ago. Do you see me crawling into a hole? You and I have a long time to be on this earth. A lot longer than the rest of the planet. Don’t do it alone. And as much as I love you, Jirel, I just don’t think we’re meant to be together that way, so you’ll have to find someone else.”

  “That’s just the thing, Moira,” he said. “I have to do it alone. Even if I found someone to spend the rest of my life with, she’d die of old age long before I ever did.”

  “Didn’t stop me,” Moira said softly. She glanced down at Aviira for a long moment. “I had the love of my life and spent as much time with him as I was allowed. And then he died. I carry him with me every day, Jirel. He may not be here now but knowing I loved him once so fiercely makes the days easier.”

  Jirel stared at his lap for a long while, listened to the tense silence. Finally he shook his head. “I will ruin my career if I get into a relationship with her. If I can’t have anything else at least I can still hang onto my career.”

  “You told me Jayne went to bed with a coworker and got a brand new partner out of it,” Moira said. “And you and I both know about Xander’s affair. He has no place to fire you. At least you aren’t a married man.”

  “It’s not—” Jirel sighed and rubbed a hand across his face and groaned. “Why do you do this?”

  “Because I’m tired of seeing you unhappy.”

  “I’m not unhappy,” he snapped.

  “You sound so convinced of that yourself.”

  He let his breath out in a controlled sigh. “I’m fine, Moira.”

  Moira was quiet for a moment while she arranged the blanket over Aviira’s chest. “You only say that because you don’t remember what being happy is actually like,” she said softly.

  Jirel scowled. “I don’t think this is a very appropriate conversation right now.”

  “Well.” Moira collected her things and rose. “I’m going downstairs to get some rest. Keep an eye on her. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

  She walked around the bed and past Jirel without a word. He clenched his teeth and swallowed, contemplating an apology, but he couldn’t. He was too incensed that Moira had brought up Caesli—among other things—at a time like this.

  He sat there in tense silence for a few minutes before pulling out his phone. He c
onsidered a few different courses of action before dialing.

  “Jayne,” he said when she picked up. “I need your help.”

  July 24th – Friday

  ***

  The first time Aviira woke a little after midnight, she sat up very suddenly, puked up most of what was in her stomach, and proceeded to fall into a drug-induced panic. Jirel had to hold her down and yell for Moira, who was already on her way up the stairs with another dose of sedative in a syringe. The shot hit her system much faster than the first had and she went limp in a few moments.

  “Is it smart to give her more of that?” Jirel asked Moira as he settled Aviira back down onto the bed. “Won’t she just wake up in a few more hours and do it all over again?”

  “She’s getting the poison out of her system,” Moira said. “Her body woke her up to puke it all up, but she’s still high on the last dose, so she’s bound to be disoriented. If she can wake up as it wears off she’ll be all right.” She placed a hand across Aviira’s forehead, noting the way she had laid her head down on Jirel’s lap as the second shot had taken over. “Still a bit feverish. You can keep an eye on her?”

  He nodded. Moira gave him a long look and touched the side of his face in a motherly way. “You should rest,” she said softly. “No dreams will touch you here.”

  Jirel said nothing. Moira told him to call if he needed anything and slipped out of the room again, bringing the trash can that Aviira had vomited into with her.

  He dozed, Aviira’s head on his lap. Though his sleep was light, Moira was right—no dreams visited him. A little after three in the morning, Aviira stirred and came to with a pained groan. Jirel opened his eyes and glanced down at her. His hand was resting on her shoulder almost as if he’d drifted to sleep while stroking her hair. He pulled it away.

  Aviira said something that was slurred with half-sleep, but he caught the words Loretta and Devaney strung together.

  “What?”

  She tried to lean up on one elbow, grimacing. She had broken out in a slick sweat and her skin looked sallow. “Loretta was sleeping with Devaney.”

  He faltered and couldn’t help but say, “What?” again.

  “The first time we met him he said his girlfriend’s ex worked for the Alliance,” she said. Jirel helped her into a seated position and she touched her chest gingerly, whispered a few obscenities. “He was talking about Aiden,” she added.

  Jirel turned to look at her squarely. “How did you realize this?”

  “Dunno,” she whispered. She made a disgusted face. “Will you hand me that water?”

  He glanced at the side table behind him where Moira had apparently brought in a glass of water while he slept.

  “Disgusting taste in my mouth,” Aviira murmured, and took a drink.

  “Probably from when you threw up.”

  “I threw up?”

  “Mm. Few hours ago.” He glanced at his watch and back up at Aviira in time to catch an expression on her face like she had no recollection of it at all. He refrained from mentioning the drugs Moira had given her. “Devaney. Tell me about Devaney.”

  “It’s been like this thing right on the tip of my tongue for a few days,” she said. “We were standing down in that cellar and told us his girlfriend was an Ancient and that her ex worked for the Alliance. Remember?”

  He took a moment reeling back the tape in his mind. “I guess so.”

  “I said, ‘must be nice to have friends in high places.’”

  Jirel nodded.

  “Tito said that the other day. And I couldn’t figure out why that sounded so familiar to me and it just came to me. I was having the craziest fucking fever dream.”

  “It doesn’t prove that it was Loretta though.”

  Aviira took another drink of water and hummed over it as another thought came to her. “She mentioned reanimated bodies that day. In her kitchen. Neither of us said a word about reanimated bodies. How would she have known that?”

  An uncomfortable notion slipped into his stomach.

  “Devaney and Elaine were both dead within twenty-four hours of us meeting them. Elaine because she talked to us and Devaney because he saw the bodies. I bet you anything he saw Loretta and told her all about the crazy shit he saw at work that day, and she knew he’d eventually find out that the house belonged to her, so he’d have to go.”

  “Aiden mentioned that he thought Loretta was seeing someone,” Jirel said quietly, in a tone that said he didn’t want to believe it but the pieces did seem to inexplicably connect.

  She made a face that said it helped support her point. “One other thing,” she said.

  A small smile touched his face. “How long was this fever dream?”

  “Moira told us that the universe takes life away from people who perform curses. Aiden said they’d been trying to have a baby for a few years. Of course she couldn’t have a baby, the universe had taken that away from her as punishment for doing those curses.”

  He shook his head a little. “You’re a fucking genius, Vira.”

  On the bedside table, Jirel’s phone rang. He reached back and picked it up, answered while Aviira wiped the back of her hand across her forehead.

  “Jayne,” Jirel said. He was quiet a second and then said, “She what?”

  Aviira looked up. He stared over at her as he listened.

  “Call you back.”

  He hung up. “Loretta gave them the slip and Aiden is missing. Sounds like his living room looks pretty much like what your kitchen does right now.”

  A strange look went across Aviira’s face and he could tell she was recalling some bizarre memory.

  “What?”

  Then he realized.

  “Park Vista,” they said in unison.

  ***

  “I don’t think this is a very good idea,” Moira said as Jirel and Aviira were walking out of her house. Jirel looked back at her with an expression that said he wasn’t very happy about it either, but he wasn’t sure what else to do. “Aviira, you’ve barely broken the fever. You need to rest.”

  Aviira was indeed very pale and moving slower than she was accustomed to, but she was at least on her feet and not in half as much pain. “I know. I will.”

  “This can’t at least wait till the morning? Can’t Jayne go after her?”

  She looked back at the other woman and finished buttoning the shirt she had lent her. “Loretta’s going to finish off her husband and we’re probably the only people who know where she’s going.”

  Moira stood on the porch and watched them go. Jirel glanced back at her uncertainly and shrugged.

  “Be careful,” she said, with the tone of a mother watching her children go off to war.

  “You should probably know that I agree with Moira for once,” Jirel said as he unlocked his car.

  “Yeah, I know. But you have to admit we don’t have much other choice here,” she said as she climbed in, foregoing the seatbelt altogether. She gave a glance at the back seat and made an unpleasant face. “I’ll pay to have your upholstery cleaned,” she added once Jirel had climbed into the driver’s seat.

  “I knew I should have gotten the leather option,” he said quietly. “Next time I’ll know better.”

  “Hopefully next time won’t involve me nearly bleeding to death in the back seat.”

  “You do know how to make a scene.”

  Aviira touched her hip. “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “My gun. I had just picked it up at my apartment when that thing got me.”

  He shook his head a little while he sped faster than the speed limit allowed toward the highway. The streets were deserted anyway. “Back seat. Fell out of your holster.”

  She twisted around to reach into the back seat, but the movement caused too much pain and she sat back again, closing her eyes against a wave of nausea. “I’ll grab it when we get there,” she said quietly when Jirel gave her a look.

  “Look, I don’t mind all the blood, but please stick your head o
ut the window if you’re going to be sick. That smell never goes away.”

  She cleared her throat. “I’ll try my best.”

  Despite herself, she dozed on the ride south. The rattling of the car on the dirt road woke her.

  “I’ll find your gun,” Jirel said as he parked. “There’s flashlights in the trunk.”

  He leaned into the back seat while Aviira went to the back hatch and popped it to find the flashlights.

  “You’re sure you’re okay?” Jirel asked as he came around the back of the car.

  “Yes,” she lied, and held out a hand for her gun. The adrenaline of the situation was beginning to block out a little bit of the pain, but she knew that was only temporary and she would pay for this later. She knew Jirel could see right through her, but he didn’t have much in the way of an argument at this point. They were already there. He concealed a frown and shut the hatch door.

  The path was illuminated by a three-quarter moon that was thankfully free of obstruction above them. Still, even between the moon and their flashlights, the road was nearly pitch black and extremely disorienting. Crickets hummed from the tall grass in a noisy rhythm.

  “We should’ve put a security detail on Aiden,” Jirel said as they walked.

  “Yeah, I thought that at first too. Then I figured that she would have sent her shade for him anyway and it probably would have taken out anyone who was with him. At least this way…if she takes him out, he’s the only victim.”

  Jirel swallowed. “Grim way to look at it, but I get where you’re coming from.”

  When they crested the hill that finally allowed them a look at the hospital—the only indicator that it was there at all was that it was slightly more black than the rest of the darkness in front of them—their flashlights hit on the reflectors of the back end of a vehicle. It was parked along the side of the road about thirty feet in front of the building.

  Aviira shined her light inside when they got close enough. It was empty, but it hadn’t been for long. “Blood,” she said.

  “She must have Aiden with her.” Jirel popped the back door open. The upholstery was stained with smudges of blood; someone had been seated back there.