Rose of Jericho (Lilith Adams Series Book 2)

by Jenny Allen

  Chapter 27

  Lilith stared at the cream colored, corded phone hanging on the kitchen wall like it was lined with vicious teeth. She needed to check her voicemail, but she was scared of what might be there and what might not. What would be worse? A dozen frantic messages or none at all? And who in the hell still had a corded phone on their kitchen wall in this technologically advanced age? It was a bulky dinosaur lurking on the wall, ready to bite her hand off.

  She fondly remembered asking Gloria about it the first time she’d come to the house. Her answer? She had three daughters one of which was venturing into the teen world and if this was the only phone they were allowed to use, then she could not-so-subtly monitor their calls. No text messages, no Facebook, no Instagram or Snapchat. The girls each had a simple firefly phone with four buttons. One called Gloria, one called Alvarez, one called 9-1-1, and one called the medical lab. Erica, the eldest, threw fits about her cellular limitations but arguing with Gloria was like having a spirited debate with the Great Wall of China.

  Lilith shook off the memories as she glanced around the wall, into the living room. Gloria was standing in front of the fireplace, blankly staring at the collection of framed photographs covering the mantle. Her fingers drifted over the glass tentatively as if trying to touch the ghosts of the dead. Lilith clenched her jaw and forced herself to concentrate. She couldn’t keep distracting herself. She needed to make this call. The modicum of safety she felt here in the Alvarez home couldn’t last and if she stayed too long, she’d only endanger Gloria and the girls.

  There were nightmares out there waiting for her, looming in the outside world, ready to devour every piece of her. She couldn’t let herself be lulled into a false sense of security while Chance, Nicci and Cohen were out there facing down demons, literally. This was her fight and she wouldn’t dump it on the people she cared about.

  Lilith took a deep breath and unceremoniously snatched the old phone, punching in her voicemail number with angry, stabbing fingers. She had three new voicemails and two saved ones. Part of her was relieved and the rest dreaded what she’d hear. The most recent message was from a number she didn’t recognize. Of course, she wouldn’t even recognize Gregor’s number. Who actually memorized phone numbers anymore? That’s what contact lists were for. The message was time stamped about five minutes ago.

  “Hey, Lilith, I know you’re still on bereavement leave for a few more days, but we caught a case downtown on White Street.” Lilith’s breath caught. White Street…that was where Haverty’s apartment was.

  “We’ve gotten multiple civilian reports of Fed activity in a high rise and a complete blood bath in an apartment on the 11th floor. There hasn’t been any Fed chatter except for a single call concerning a terrorist cell to the precinct, so I’m suspicious. Then there are several 9-1-1 calls we intercepted of a murdered cab driver a few blocks away. The eye witness accounts are…well…bizarre is the only way I can put it. We could use your help on this one. You know Peters isn’t very thorough.” There was a pause that Lilith could only contribute to his conflicted conscience. “If you’re interested, give me a call. If not, then I’ll see you when you get back.” Another pause. “We sure do miss you around here.”

  Apparently Peters was leaving a lot to be desired, not that she was surprised. The medical examiner in New Haven reminded her of Peters. A burnt-out, alcoholic, two-pack-a-day-smoker, who was just going through the motions. Actually, the ME in New Haven had at least done thorough autopsy. He hadn’t given up on his job completely. Peters just cared about clearing the cases off his desk, which was why he wasn’t the primary forensic investigator for Major Crimes.

  Lilith hesitated, considering whether or not she should call the station back. Under other circumstances, she would have responded. Being the lead investigator would enable her to eliminate any incriminating evidence and steer the investigation in a helpful direction. However, with zombies, a voodoo queen and demons searching the city to tear her apart, playing interference on a case out in the open would definitely shorten her life span. No. She’d have to leave it in Peters’ incapable hands and just hope for the best.

  Cohen’s European timbre filled the second message which was time stamped an hour ago. There was more than a slight edge of anger and panic in his voice.

  “What the fuck is going on, Lilith? Why the hell did you run off? I got separated from Nicci, tried to find you both, but nada. This whole thing is a complete shit storm…” Lilith could hear the deep ragged breath tinged with sheer panic. “I called Luminita, she confirmed that the German is in town. He flew in yesterday. He has to be the man behind the…well, you know.” Apparently Cohen couldn’t even bring himself to verbally admit what he’d seen. “Call me as soon as you get this!” A lengthy pause filled the speaker and, for a moment, she thought he forgot to hang up. Then his voice returned in a rush of soft, almost humiliated tones. “Please…don’t be dead.”

  Well, Cohen made it out of the zombie mob alive. Part of her was relieved and the other part wondered why. If Cohen never existed, she wouldn’t be in this mess to start with. Gregor would still be alive, she wouldn’t be running for her life from logic-defying zombies… but she knew, deep down, that Cohen wasn’t the cause. Ashcroft was the cause, and what her own father did to him. Without Cohen’s help, Ashcroft and Spencer would have killed them all. They would just be ash in the fire of Ashcroft’s ill-conceived vengeance.

  As questionable as Cohen’s motives were, in the basement of Phipp’s Bend, it was his play acting that caught Ashcroft off guard. It gave the guys time to get into place and launch an assault that finally brought the murderous bastard down. It was Cohen’s blood that kept her alive, not just after the car accident and the beating from Spencer, but after that as well, and it was Cohen’s blood that indirectly saved Chance’s life. As much as she really, truly wanted to pin the blame all on Cohen, she just couldn’t.

  Cohen’s tell-all in the alley had only made things worse. She didn’t like knowing more about Cohen, it made her feel…sympathetic? Guilty for wanting to hate him so much? He was an obligation, an albatross that was dragging her down. If only she could clip the rope that tied them without the Catholic-sized helping of guilt.

  No. That’s how she wanted to feel about Cohen. If she was being completely honest with herself, she cared about Cohen’s survival. No matter what his reasons were, he’d saved her life several times. In Haverty’s apartment he could have escaped and left her and Nicci behind to die. Knowing more about Farren forced her to realize that Cohen and her weren’t much different. They were both fighters trying to survive their families.

  “Shit.” Lilith sighed heavily at the ancient corded phone and hung up on the rest of her voicemails, instead dialing back Cohen’s burner cell. It only rang once before Cohen’s aristocratic voice, rigid with anger, filled the rattling receiver.

  “Lilith, this better be you!”

  “Hello to you, too.”

  “Thank fucking god!”

  Lilith couldn’t help but snicker. “Getting religious on me?”

  Cohen completely ignored her smartass humor and barreled forward. “What the fuck was that? You have a damn death wish? Splitting up was the worst possible idea. Where the hell are you?”

  “Brooklyn. I had no choice, Andrew. I…I needed blood, I couldn’t breathe. I would have only slowed you down. You two had a better chance without me. Besides, I’m alive, so guess it worked out. You said the German is in town?” She would much rather focus on information that could actually help them then focus on her embarrassing vampiric needs.

  “Brooklyn? Where in Brooklyn? I need an address. I need to know exactly where you are, Lilith!”

  “Cohen, calm down! I’m safe. Just tell me where you want to meet up. I’m assuming you have a plan?” Cohen pushing for an address just made those lingering doubts rear up in pure self-defense. Despite everything, she just couldn’t bring herself to trust him completely and she wasn’t about to bet Gloria’s l
ife on Cohen’s track record.

  Silence filled the line for a moment and every passing second made Lilith’s optimism disappear a tiny bit at a time. “I’m working on that. I’m trying to track down Helton. Luminita knows he flew into New York, but she doesn’t know where he is. She wants to meet up at the docks, but Helton’s the key, Lilith. If we get him, we get the book, we get the cipher from Chance, and we’ll get our freedom from the council. You can go back to your quiet little life and I can go back to mine.”

  Her quiet little life. The thought almost made her laugh in pure soul-twisting misery. There wasn’t much left of her quiet little life anymore. What would it even look like now?

  “Lilith.” Cohen’s quietly firm voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “I need to know where you are. If you’re somewhere safe, then stay there, but I need to know where to come get you when I have a location. I’m going to need you in this.” The reassuring tone of his voice was hypnotic and, whether she liked it or not, it made her trust him more. Damn psychology. Lilith glanced around the wall again to see Gloria braced against the mantle, wiping tears off her face. She couldn’t endanger her when there was still even a single doubt in her mind.

  “I’m visiting a friend. I needed somewhere to get patched up. Those side effects are completely gone, unfortunately. I could use some of those healing powers right about now.”

  “You’re hurt? What are your injuries?” It sounded less like a concerned inquiry into her physical health and more like demanding a report on how much of a liability she was going to be. Not exactly an endearing move that would foster the faith he was earning.

  “Shallow bullet wound to the left shoulder, dislocated left shoulder, broken left humerus, probably a concussion or two. The deep gouges on my left forearm you already saw. That about sums it up. Typical Saturday.”

  “Holy hell, Lilith. Did you get hit by a damn car?”

  Lilith couldn’t hold back the chuckle. “In a manner of speaking.” Technically, the car was slammed on top of her, but close enough.

  “Well, sit tight. I’ll call you back at this number when I have a location. It shouldn’t be long. Then maybe you’ll give me a damn address. I’ll help you out when I get there. I need all hands on deck and you won’t be much help if your arm’s in a damn sling. Besides, it’s not like it could make anything worse at this point. They can only kill me once.”

  Technically, that wasn’t exactly true. Ashcroft had been killed many times before it actually stuck. Of course, Ashcroft was an abomination, but still, the possibility was out there. Cohen hung up long before she could actually argue with him.

  Stillness began to settle over her, slowly unclenching her stiff muscles one by one. There was a plan, or at least part of a plan. They had a clear enemy, a light at the end of the tunnel, a way out. Hopefully. Of course, now the only thing she had to do was wait patiently. Definitely not her strong suit.

  Lilith picked up the ancient, cream-colored dinosaur and re-dialed her voicemail. She might as well listen to the last message. It could be from Nicci or Chance.

  She skipped past the call from the department and the one from Cohen. The last message was time stamped about four hours ago. Odd. She never heard her phone ring. Then it occurred to her that the call came in just about the time they reached Haverty’s apartment. Naturally, she’d put her phone on silent so it wouldn’t give them away.

  A warm, Cajun-flecked voice rumbled soothingly from the speaker like a balm for her soul. Her throat actually clenched, tears welling in her eyes, as she clung to the ancient, corded phone. “Cherie, I know you’re probably still dealing with the perp’s apartment, but I wanted to give you an update.” There was a pause as he said a muffled goodbye to someone, then his rich voice filled the speaker again.

  “I’m just leaving the lab now. I’ve got the tin and the samples you wanted. I know, I know. I said I was going to sleep at a hotel. I did catch a couple hours.” Another pause, a whoosh of doors opening and then closing. “I couldn’t really sleep knowing you’re there in New York with Cohen. I mean…I trust Timothy, but…” He released a heavy sigh, and she could almost see his shoulders hunched, running a frustrated hand through his chestnut hair. “I don’t like how we left things and, well…Damn, I miss you.” A soft silence filled the line that allowed Lilith a second to revel in the fact that despite everything, he still needed her. “I’m heading straight back. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine once I’m back in New York with you.”

  Lilith couldn’t stop the Cheshire cat smile that crossed her lips as her fingers tightened around the phone, hugging it to her ear. She wanted nothing more than to dismiss his fears, shake off that horrible nightmare and just jump on him as soon as she saw him. Then a cold, tendril of fear coiled around her stomach. What if she was still subconsciously terrified of him? What if that damn nightmare had scarred her for life?

  “Lily.” Chance’s voice went quiet, steady but with an edge of importance. Something was wrong. She knew it immediately from the tone of that single word. It was his business voice.

  “I’ve gotta cut this short, Cherie. I’ve got company.” Lilith could hear someone talking loudly in the background, barking orders. “I love you.” Chance’s voice was strained like he was running or jumping and then the distant sound of gunfire crackled over the speaker and Lilith jumped nervously, the phone clattering to the floor. She scrambled quickly, snatching the handset back up. A dull beep signaled the end of the message and her heart dropped as her world went spinning.

  “No!!” She screamed the word as her fingers white-knuckled the telephone. A thousand different scenarios ran through her head at a million miles an hour. Did Farren send his men? Was it this Sievers character or Helton or whatever the hell the German called himself? Was it someone else that wanted the book? Was Chance still alive? Was he being held by these people or did he get away?

  Lilith slammed the heavy receiver into its cradle and immediately picked it back up. She barely managed to punch in the number Chance had called from. Her fingers were shaking with fear and anger. Straight to voicemail. She clicked the button on the receiver and dialed again. Straight to voicemail. The fifth time it went to voicemail, she slammed the receiver into the cradle so hard that it rattled the wall. Not Chance. She couldn’t lose him now.

  Lilith wiped furiously at her cheeks as she fought to wrap her brain around that voicemail. She had to do something… but what could she do? He was in Tennessee and she had no idea if he was even alive. He’d called four hours ago. Whatever the outcome, it had already happened. There was nothing she could do now. Lilith smashed her palm against the wall in utter frustration. She was sick to death of feeling powerless, helpless. There had to be something, anything she could do.

  A hand touched Lilith’s shoulder and she nearly jumped right out of her skin. “Lily, Bonita, what is it?” Gloria’s voice was so soothing that Lilith just collapsed against her shoulder, emotionally and mentally exhausted.

  “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  “Tell me, Bonita.” Gloria pulled back enough to fix Lilith with a firm yet sympathetic look. After a deep sigh, Lilith told her all about the message from Chance, keeping her eyes glued to the phone. She couldn’t handle seeing any judgment in Gloria’s face about her obvious relationship with Chance. It would just be too much right now.

  “Call the station. They’ll have the number to the lab. I’m sure the guard knows something.”

  “Yeah!” Lilith smiled bright and just as quickly her face fell into a mask of frustration. “No. I can’t call the station, not without raising suspicion. If you knew the full story…”

  “Surely there is someone you can call to get the number.” Gloria didn’t bring up Chance or the fact that she still didn’t know what was going on. She was just tackling the problem in front of her and Lilith was eternally grateful. It was exactly what she needed to keep her focus and not just fall apart at the seams.

  Call. Finally, a thought clicked into place
like a cog connecting with the rest of the machine. Lilith flashed a hopeful smile and kissed Gloria on the cheek enthusiastically. “You’re brilliant!”

  Lilith dialed her voicemail again, skipped to the first saved message, and memorized the number. Then she hung up and called it, mumbling a prayer under her breath. This had to work. Please, let it work.

  “Hello?”

  “Nicci?” Relief flooded through her body. One tragedy averted. “Are you okay?”

  “Lilith?! Damn, girl. I thought you were worm food. Yeah. I mean, well, physically I’m okay. I got away and called an anonymous tip into the station. I thought maybe a police presence would scare ‘em off. Are you all right?”

  “I’ll live.” Lilith sucked in a deep breath before barreling onward. “I need a favor. I know, in light of recent events, you have every right to tell me to go to hell, but I really, really need your help.”

  The line was silent for a moment, a gut-twisting, guilt-inducing moment, where Lilith felt like the most selfish person on the planet.

  “This shit is serious, Lilith. It is a real threat, and not just to you. This affects all of us and it needs to be handled. It’s my job. Stop asking for favors and just tell me how I can help.”

  Lilith released a painful breath that she didn’t even realize she was holding. “I can never thank you enough, Nicci.”

  “There’ll be time for that later. So what do you need?”

  “I got in touch with Cohen. Helton is in New York and Cohen is trying to track him down. I’m waiting for his call, but in the meantime, I need you to get me the number for Goditha Labs in Knoxville.”

  “Goditha? Yeah, sure. Give me a second.” Lilith pictured Nicci’s long ponytail swishing from side to side as she stalked purposely down the hall to her office. Several clicks on a keyboard echoed through the phone before her New York-Italian accent returned. “You got a pen and paper?”