Accidentally Dead, Again

by Dakota Cassidy

  “If we could just find them, Darnell,” Nina seethed into the wind. “If we could just fucking find them.”

  Darnell held his hand out to Sam. “I’m Darnell, by the way. Came here to help your lady when you blacked out.”

  Sam shook it and gave him a grim smile. “Much appreciated. So is that what happened to me? The last thing I remember is seeing Phoebe had made it to the rooftop.”

  Phoebe nodded against his wide shoulder. “You made it to the rooftop, and then you just collapsed. Why did you pass out like that? What happened?”

  He shrugged his shoulders and avoided Phoebe’s eyes. “Not a clue. Maybe some residual vampire shifting stuff?” Sam pointed a foot in the direction of the man’s ashes and changed the subject. “And this? Another one?”

  “Just like the last time,” was Nina’s disgruntled response.

  “Were you able to get anything out of him before …”

  Phoebe shook her head, burrowing closer to Sam, fearing his collapse was a sign the disease was beginning to rear its ugly head. “No,” she whispered. “And it was just as horrible as the first time, in case you were wondering.”

  Sam kept her close when he surveyed the area. “No identification on him, either, huh?”

  Darnell shook his head after a quick scan of the rooftop with a cluck of his tongue. “Sho don’t look like it. I think we need to get to this lady’s apartment and see what we can see. I don’t nevah, evah wanna do somethin’ like dat again.”

  “You mean like with us,” Phoebe couldn’t help but point out, numb with fear.

  Darnell chucked her under the chin and flashed her a sympathetic smile. “I mean most especially with somebody as purty as you.”

  Nina pushed her way past them with a grunt. “That’s not going to fucking happen as long as I’m here. So let’s tap this broad’s apartment and try to find something—anything that’ll help us figure this shit out.” Nina began to walk toward the roof’s exit door but stopped midstride. She stared down Phoebe and Sam. “And the two of you, do me a fucking favor. Don’t be tools. If I tell you to do some shit, just do it, and don’t question me. It pisses me off.”

  “I’d bet even world peace would piss you off. So tell me, Nina, what doesn’t piss you off?” Phoebe, afraid, worried, and on edge, asked with a taunt.

  “Not a lot. But we’ve covered that ground, haven’t we? So I’m gonna let your ignorance slide because you’ve just had one of those traumatic experiences. But that doesn’t mean I’ll cut you a solid forever. Which means you should tread lightly with your ballerina slippers, Buffy Two.” Nina stomped off in typical manlike fashion.

  Phoebe’s fists clenched and her temper soared. Nina deserved a good swift kick in the teeth, and she was going to be the first to do it. Oh, and fuck taking the high road. She was fine with Low Avenue if it meant she could rip Nina’s hair out follicle by follicle.

  But Sam grabbed her by the waist and pulled her up against him tight. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Now, now, Phoebe. You’re not looking at the bright side here.”

  “The bright side?” she asked between clenched teeth, refusing to allow herself the luxury of pressing her ear to his lips in favor of staking a bitch through the heart.

  His chuckle was low. “Well, yeah, you silly. She didn’t call you Barbie once. That’s progress in familial communication, if you ask me, yes?”

  “I’ll give you Barbie,” she muttered fighting her way out of his grip and doing some of her own stomping to the door. “Let’s get this over with, and do not linger, boys.” With a muffled hiss of rage, she flung the door open and stalked down the flight of stairs.

  DARNELL managed to get into Alice’s apartment without incident, and somehow they’d all made it inside without being seen. While they sifted through her personal items, each lost in their own thoughts, Phoebe fought to block the image of yet another poor soul lost to whatever was going on.

  Instead, she tried to take in her surroundings and the small but tastefully decorated apartment, from the crocheted blanket in dark blue and gray slung over Alice’s corduroy couch to the tiny glass tabletop dinette for one in the corner of the room.

  There were few pictures of Alice with anyone but a golden lab who, according to the date on the urn on her coffee table, had met his fate earlier in the year. Though, her walls were littered with pictures of her many clients. Clients who had cancer and had come to her from various charities that offered help to women and children who needed to be fitted for wigs or transition a hairstyle befitting their newly grown hair.

  If the pictures she had and the client letters she’d framed were any indication, Alice Goodwin had been a kind, loving, hardworking woman who’d deserved to die with dignity. Instead, she’d not only been diagnosed with one of the most undignified diseases there was, but she’d been used as some kind of guinea pig.

  Disgust flooded Phoebe—sorrow, too—as she leafed through Alice’s appointment book. Though Alice was single, and had what appeared to be no living relatives, she had been loved and her life, if her full social calendar was on target, had been happy.

  “She was part of a book club,” Phoebe spoke out loud when she found a notation for an upcoming meeting. “Books That Bite, it’s called. How ironic their chosen reading material is paranormal books. Anyway, they meet next Tuesday. Maybe someone from the group can help us? Maybe they know what was going on with her?”

  Though, if Alice was anything like Phoebe, she’d probably kept her condition to herself, and that would only make things more difficult for them.

  Sam’s head popped up from his place on the couch where he’d set a plastic tote with Alice’s bank records. “If we don’t find anything tonight, it’s a place to start. Damn, she seemed like a pretty nice lady. She had a modest retirement fund, if her bank statements are correct. No credit card debt, and she was planning a trip somewhere if this last statement is any indication. What a damn crappy end.” He ran his hand over his hair, displaying the disgust Phoebe was feeling. “Sometimes, this jo … life,” he corrected, “sucks.”

  Nina paused her rifling in Alice’s kitchen cabinets and glanced at Sam as though she was going to speak, but Darnell, shoulders deep in a bookcase, whooped a yelp of joy. “I think I got somethin’!” He unfolded a packet of papers with a shake of his hand. “This here Alice was applyin’ for some kinda clinical trial for her Alzheimer’s. She got a bunch o’ forms all filled out right here.”

  “A clinical trial?” Phoebe said in surprise, rushing to Darnell’s side to look at the forms he held.

  Her hands trembled when she took them from Darnell; her eyes went wide. “This was the same trial Dr. Hornstein offered to me …” She reached a hand behind her to keep from pitching backward. Each clue they found reminded her how close she was to what was happening.

  Somehow, she kept managing to skirt one fate only to find herself involved in another. Her balance failed her, but Darnell was instantly behind her, pressing a beefy hand to her spine.

  Sam crossed the room in two strides, reaching for her while Nina trounced across the floor. “When was this supposed to start?” Sam asked, clutching her hand in his.

  Her voice shook when she finally spoke. “Dr. Hornstein said he had connections and he could help me get into this very exclusive trial, but it was controversial at best. Though, he did tout some pretty impressive results. I didn’t fill out the forms because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to participate or not. As desperate as I was to even just stall the Alzheimer’s, I didn’t want to do it with only one eye while I was hooked up to life support. I didn’t have time to look into it thoroughly—so I don’t know when or even if it started.”

  Sam’s eyes narrowed when he put a finger to his lips and closed his eyes as though he were formulating his thoughts. “Hold on. You don’t have any surviving family do you, Phoebe?”

  “Not unless you count fashion apocalypse here.” She made a face at Nina. “And I didn’t list her on any of the forms as a con
tact. I was offered the clinical trial entry just before I found Nina. So, technically, I only have Mark, who’s like family.”

  “That’s it!” Sam shouted, dropping Phoebe’s hand and pacing. “The clinical trial. I’d bet my left nut whoever is responsible for what’s going on is doing it under the guise of these clinical trials. Think about how easy that would be. Or easier, I should say. Both you and Alice had no family—so it wasn’t like anyone was going to come looking for you if you disappeared, and even if, say, Mark did, there’d be nothing he could do because he wouldn’t have access to your medical files. Sonofabitch. You were all disposable. I can feel it in my gut.”

  “Hold up, man,” Darnell said. “Those forms say Alice was goin’ to some clinic here in Brooklyn. O-Tech’s in Manhattan. How’d she get herself all da way over there and dead to boot when she did it?”

  Sam’s lips formed a sneer, so unlike him, Phoebe noted, it made even Nina pause. “I don’t know, Darnell. But I know I’m right. Call it gut instinct or whatever, but I’m right. Maybe they were sending candidates to this clinic in Brooklyn and farming them out to O-Tech, or maybe that’s just where they’re stashing the bodies, but what better way to find test subjects than to give them hope for a disease that’s so hopeless? Goddamn bastards,” he swore with a snarl, jamming a fist into the pocket of his jeans.

  Nina made an angry grunt, her eyes scanning the forms Phoebe held. “Fuck. This just keeps getting better and better. So now what?”

  Sam placed his hands on his lean hips, his eyes glimmered. “We send Phoebe in.”

  Ahhhh. Bait. She could be bait. To murderers. Madmen. Total nutballs. Oh, sweet mother of all things holy. “So you want me to join the clinical trial?”

  Sam’s expression was hard, making Phoebe cock her head. He was usually so easygoing and lighthearted. But this Sam had a vibe she didn’t understand, a hard current of something … “Yes. That’s exactly what we do. You’ve got all the forms, right?”

  Phoebe gave a hesitant nod. “I do.”

  “You already have the diagnosis, and your doctor deemed you a candidate—all we need to do is get you into wherever it is they’re performing the tests.”

  Fear swept over Phoebe. Go figure. “I don’t want to poke holes in your Miami Vice–like plan, but what good am I going to do? Sure, I can get inside, but I don’t know the first thing about chemicals and beakers and all that medical stuff we saw, Sam. They’re obviously not going to give me the laundry list of ingredients they’re using to test these poor people with, and I wouldn’t know what the ingredients were even if they did.” Panic had begun to set in again, deep and foreboding.

  When Sam answered, he was all goodness and light again. “No, honey. I don’t want you to go in, go in. There’ll be no Charlie’s Angels for you. I just want you to join the trial and get the address for where this is going down. The rest will be up to me.”

  Relief flooded her. God, he was super-duper dreamy. Virile. Smart. Funny. Sexy. Sexy. Seeeexy.

  “I dunno, Sammy,” Nina said, intruding upon her inward fangirl gush. “I’m not so hip to the idea that they could find out about Phoebe. What if one of those goons comes looking for her? What if they fucking decide to come get her when she doesn’t show up? I’ma hafta slap a bitch if that happens. So, tag, you’re the bitch, Sammy.”

  Sam began to pack up Alice’s bank statements while Darnell straightened the bookcase. “Do we have any other choices, Nina? I’d rather risk them knowing of her than not find the answer to this and let her die.”

  Okay. Sam was officially dreamy napalm. Damn her fears, her inexperience with a solid felony, her misgivings. He was willing to do whatever it took to keep her from dying. Mad-ass hot. That’s what he was.

  Nina slapped Sam on the back and smiled with a sinister glint to it. “She dies, you die, dude.”

  Darnell chuckled, husky and low. “Aw, now, Nina, stop harshin’ the man’s vibe. He’s jus’ tryin’ ta do what he feels is right for his ladylove. You gone and forgot what thass like?”

  But Phoebe didn’t hear Darnell proclaim she was Sam’s ladylove as much as she did the threat that Nina would kill Sam if something happened to her. Her eyebrow rose. “Was that sisterly concern I just heard?”

  Nina flipped up her middle finger, pale and threatening. “No. That was if-they-find-you-they-might-find-us concern, Presumptuous Barbie.”

  Phoebe would have risen to the bait if she weren’t getting so good at this emotional-reading thing. She found, in the madness, she was spending more time really hearing the intonation of people’s voices, really listening to the inflection and change of pitch.

  That had been concern in Nina’s, and while she was prideful enough to refuse to allow Nina’s rejection to show outwardly, she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to revel in any small indication Nina was warming to her. She sauntered over to Alice’s window and flung it open. “Was not,” she taunted in a tone that teased. “You liiike me. Oh! You know what this reminds me of?”

  Nina rolled her beautiful eyes. “Christ. If it’s one of your stupid soap opera references, it’s nothing like it. I’d kill a bitch before I’d let her hold me hostage in some convent while she slammed my man. Trust that shit.”

  Phoebe shook her head with a coy smile. “No, it’s not like that, silly. I don’t even know your man. Who’s my brother-in-law, by the way. It’s more like the time on Guiding Sunrise when Sierra Madson finally, after a twelve-year search, found her sister Arianna living right next door to her. Arianna didn’t like Sierra at all when she found out they were sisters, but when danger struck in the way of the Bowler City serial killer, she had Sierra’s back. Which just proves, you don’t want anything to happen to me. I’m growing on you, Nina, and I know that cinches your panties, but really, what doesn’t, Warrior Barbie?” she asked with a giggle before she jumped out the window to the back alley, narrowly escaping Nina’s screech of fury.

  She smiled when she landed like some graceful version of a one-hundred-forty-five-pound cat.

  Nina liked her.

  Heh.

  CHAPTER

  11

  “I can’t turn my brain to the off position,” Phoebe said from her place on the bed. Freshly showered and in a pair of sweats Mark had brought for her along with some of her other clothes and cosmetics, she’d propped herself up on Sam’s pillow while she waited for vampire sleep in his darkened bedroom.

  Sam gave her a drowsy glance from the bench under his window where he’d been sleeping since this had begun and he’d offered up his bed like the gentleman he was. “It isn’t your brain that needs turning off—it’s that pretty mouth,” he said, though his sleepy words were filled with amusement. “But before this vampire sleep-by-comatose assault gets us, you really did a number on that guy on the roof, huh? Way to go.”

  She knew how to defend herself—she’d spent a lot of time using her fists before she’d learned her lesson. But it didn’t make how utterly mortified she was any better.

  She’d used her vampire powers to take a weak, dying fellow manufactured vampire out. “I’m not too proud of that, Sam. He had to have been weak and desperate at that point, and now he’s dead, too. But we have no idea who he is or why he was at Alice’s. Though, I’d bet he was following the same trail we were. So not only did I beat him up with my fierce from-the-hood skills, he spent the last minutes of his life being launched across a rooftop.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. And unfortunately, his identity is a question we may not have the answer to anytime soon—or even ever, honey.”

  Yet, she couldn’t stop the worry from rolling over her in waves. She’d tried to put together any sort of connect the dots to this madness, and she still wasn’t sure it had to do with patients for the clinical trial. “Do you really think this is the answer? The Alzheimer’s patients? That we were just easy targets for these monsters because no one would care if we dropped off the face of the planet? That if I had been a part of the clinical trial, I wou
ld have ended up like Alice?”

  Sam’s words were instantly soothing, his tone gentle and sympathetic. “I do. It’s only a hunch, though. I just looked at the common denominators the minute you said you’d been offered the trial. But I don’t think that’s the case, in reference to you dropping off the face of the planet, Phoebe. I think Mark would move heaven and earth if something happened to you. If his clucking over you like a mother hen tonight was any indication of how he feels about you, I wouldn’t put it past him to hunt the bastards down and take them out. In fact, I wouldn’t put it past him to take out Nina, if it meant protecting you. And that’s saying something.”

  Phoebe shivered despite the fact that it was only a phantom reaction to the fear that she’d come so close to ending up like Alice Goodwin and that poor, unidentifiable man on the roof.

  Though, the way things stood right now, they both could end up like that anyway. “But it’s like you said, he wouldn’t have gotten very far because he’s not a relation. So had I gone first, Alice could’ve been me. And I know that’s a shitty thing to say when a perfectly decent human being is dead. My thoughts should be with Alice. Yet, I can’t help but focus on the fact that this could have happened to me if I hadn’t hesitated about the trials. There would have been no one to take up for me because I’m essentially alone.” Her eyes squeezed shut tight. Okay, she wasn’t entirely alone. She did have Mark and …

  Oh, God.

  The clock was ticking and still she hadn’t told everyone everything.

  She heard the rustle of Sam’s jeans as he moved on the bench, felt the sink of the mattress beside her when he sat at the edge of the bed. Without a word, he enveloped her in his arms, and she let him, resting her head on the spot where his chest met his shoulder.

  Sam placed his chin on the top of her head. “We’ll figure this out, Phoebe. We’ve got a solid lead now.”