Haley glared at him and said, “You’re really rude sometimes.”
“Well, it’s true. You know it’s true. Don’t try and deny it. You’re so Human sometimes you scare me.”
She took her aggressions out on the helpless dead shrimp on her plate. It wasn’t her fault she had appreciation for Human morals, ethics, and hang ups.
Haley’s phone rang.
Farley groaned. “If that’s the Center, please don’t answer it.”
Haley checked her watch. It was almost nine o’clock. Surely no one would be calling her at this hour. She checked the number. “It’s Deshi.”
Farley snorted. “Probably waiting outside your door getting twitchy. Tell him I get top this time.” The people at the next table stopped eating and stared. Haley gave them her best “sorry about that” smile.
She flipped open the phone and put it to her ear. “Hey, we’re out eating. What’s up?”
Silence.
Haley checked her signal. Four bars.
Can you hear me now? You damn well should.
She put the phone back to her ear. “Deshi?”
A breath shuddered over the receiver.
“Deshi ... what’s wrong? Deshi?”
When Deshi spoke, his voice was strained, like he’d been giving his vocal cords a serious workout. “Haley ... I...” His breath blew out in great gasps. “It’s Emily. Oh, God of Man, what have I done?” The wail that followed sent her scrambling. Farley threw three twenties on the table and they took off out the door and raced for the street.
“Deshi? Deshi? What happened?” But she knew what happened. The worst. The most horrible. Deshi had raged and Emily was dead.
The phone went silent. When she looked, the screen read disconnected. Haley called back, but it only rang.
I should have never let him leave that day. I should have made him stay. I should have given him no choice. All the should-haves tumbled relentlessly through her head.
Farley grabbed her arm. “It’s not your fault.”
She shook her head. It was. It was her fault. She’d let him leave. He was in no condition. It was only a matter of time before this happened. She was Female and it was her job to take care of him.
He leaned closer. “No, this is not your fault. Deshi was the stupid one. He made the choice.”
Haley yanked away and waved for a cab. One pulled up and Haley climbed inside. Farley was right behind her.
The cabbie put a hand across the back seat, blocking Farley’s entry. “No Kin. Good cab, no Kin.” The cabbie pointed to Farley. His gaze flicked to the nevus on Farley’s arms.
Haley pulled out a fifty from her inside pocket. “Drive.” The cabbie licked his lips and held up two fingers. She pulled out another two twenties, and threw it at him. Farley climbed in and shut the door.
“No mess up my seats.” He poked his finger at Farley, then patted the headrest. “New leather.”
Farley flashed his fangs. “No talkie.” He flapped his fingers at the man. “Drivie!”
Haley put her elbow in his ribs. Farley crossed his arms and looked out the window. She gave the driver another ten and told him the address.
Busy streets turned into quiet private neighborhoods where spacious homes with their rolling green lawns sat under towering oak trees. Ansley Park was the kind of place that screamed old money. All the houses in this part of town were unique. No doubt, they just didn’t make neighborhoods like this anymore.
Deshi’s place was at the bottom of a cul-de-sac, lit by iron lamps dropped right out of a Norman Rockwell painting. They went well with the park benches set deep in the rolling field of winter rye grass as dense as Berber carpet. Of all the houses in Ansley park, Deshi’s, with its English-cottage-meets-Scottish-castle sort of feel, was easily the pick.
The cabbie stopped at the end of the driveway and turned in his seat. “I wait, yes?” He held out his hand looking for another bill.
Haley shook her head and got out. Farley followed.
The cabbie waved at them and patted the steering wheel. “I wait, no problem.”
Farley raised his lips and hissed.
“I go, I go.” The cabbie threw it in reverse and missed Deshi’s mailbox by a hair. The front wheel clipped the curb as he cut the corner too close. Haley cut Farley a look and he shrugged.
“C’mon.” She headed up the cobblestone walk. A small porch light was on in the alcove, but it made more shadows than it offered light. Haley knocked on the door, then rang the doorbell. No one answered.
“Deshi?”
“I’ll check the back.” Farley sank into the darkness.
Haley kept knocking. “Deshi, it’s us. Open the door.” The easiest thing to do would be to break a window. But if he had the alarm system on, the entire Atlanta PD would be here in five minutes. With the way things were going so far this week, they were apt to shoot first and ask questions later.
Haley heard footsteps and peeked through the side window. Farley came across the great room, his expression bleak. He undid the deadbolt and opened the door, and Haley knew immediately why his face was dark. The sweet coppery scent of blood was in the air.
She started to ask how he got in. Farley threw a thumb over his shoulder and said, “Window in the kitchen was open.”
Haley scanned the room. Expensive art hung on the wall in the great room, which opened into the living area, where a flat screen as long as her Mustang sat on a shiny mahogany entertainment system. There was no way you’d find something like that at Wal-Mart.
Under the warm glow of lamp light the flawless wood floor gleamed, framing oriental rugs. The kitchen was equally perfect. All marble and stainless steel.
The sounds of appliances kicking on and off and the tick of the grandfather clock were the only noises. All houses have a natural state of business that one can associate with being lived in. Deshi’s house just felt dead.
“Deshi?” Still nothing.
Farley pointed up.
They headed up the stairs, scenting the air. Farley swung his head back and forth moving like ... well, a dragon. On the third floor the smell was stronger, thicker, with a musky flavor underneath. Half-way down the hall, blood stains covered the wall along with smears of brown. Death is never pretty.
Sometimes people were just so scared they shit themselves.
An intermittent trail of crimson got darker as it neared the bedroom door that was slightly ajar. Arterial spray fanned across the front of the white-washed wood. Emotional terror written in slaps of red. A frantic sort of fight happened here. The kind where the prey knews it was going to die, but refused to quit struggling. Hoping for escape when there is none.
Haley and Farley looked at each other. This was bad. Really bad.
“Deshi?” Farley asked. There was a sound of movement inside the room.
“What’s that smell?” Haley sniffed. For so much blood, there wasn’t very much of that tale-tale buttered chicken smell of Humans. This blood smelled musky, like an old fur rug.
Farley stuck out his hand and pushed the door. It swung wide, revealing a collage of broken furniture, torn sheets, and gutted down pillows. Deshi was curled by the closed bathroom door, completely naked, and covered in tuffs of blond hair, blood, and feathers. His teeth were down, distorting his handsome face. The portable phone lay in his lap painted with a red hand print.
“Deshi?” As Haley moved closer, she kept saying his name with a gentle firmness. When she was a few feet away he raised his head to look at her. Haley’s foot hit apart something that had once been alive under the snowfall of feathers. Emily was dead. Bits of her were on the floor and Haley was stepping on them. An ache started across her chest and seemed to have no end.
Deshi blinked once, twice, and his eyes widened as his face became Human again. He covered his face with his arms and howled the piteous keen he’d made earlier.
She’d failed him.
Farley touched Haley’s arm and held something up to her. She had to wipe the t
ears out of her eyes so she could see.
The little blue strip, smeared with red, and its shiny bone shaped charm just wouldn’t compute. Farley shook it and it jingled.
“It’s a dog collar. That’s the smell. This isn’t Human blood, at least not all of it.”
A dog. Thank you, God of Man. Another dog. Emily had been spared again.
“Deshi?” Haley knelt in front of The Jersey City Prince. Blood glued feathers to her hands when she touched his shoulder. “Where’s Emily?”
He finally raised a hand and pointed at the bathroom door. Farley leaned down and picked up the larger Male. With a heavy boot he kicked aside some of the debris and eased them both down to the floor. When Farley had Deshi situated, Haley turned her attentions back to the door.
“Emily?” She rapped on the door and listened. “Emily? It’s Haley Night. I was at your wedding, remember? I know you’re in there.” Because I can hear your heart beating like a scared rabbit. “I need you to open the door for me so I can make sure you’re okay.” If she was hurt bad enough for the ER, Deshi was still a dead Male. Kin who struck out violently against their Human spouses served an automatic five years in the ADF. A death penalty for just about any Kin.
She tried the door handle but it didn’t move. Inside, there was a quick breath and a small sob. “Emily, please. Please let me help you.”
“He killed my parents’ dog!” Emily screeched. “He killed their golden retriever. He killed him!” Her sobbing drowned out the rest.
Yeah, thought Haley, you have no idea how lucky you are. “Emily, please let me in so I can make sure you’re okay.”
In a high pitched voice, bordering on hysterics, Emily screamed. “Just call the police! I want the police and I want an ambulance! He killed Max! He killed him and he ate him!”
Haley winced, her own teeth aching. So much blood, so much violence, the smell of prey. “Emily, I need you to calm down, okay?” Please calm down because I don’t want this to get any worse.
And worse meant Deshi eating her.
“Calm down? Calm down! He ate the goddamned dog and you want me to calm down!”
“Emily, for God’s sake, shut the hell up before you make him come after you again. You’re screaming like a wounded animal and he’s reacting to it.”
Silence. There was a sniffle and the sound of someone blowing their nose.
Haley took a breath and checked on Farley. He was petting Deshi, whose handsome face was contorted in a mix of fear and horror. Poor Beautiful Deshi looked like he was trying to wake up from a nightmare.
Haley blew out a sigh and turned her attention back to the door. “Emily, are you hurt?”
“Yes, yes, I’m hurt. I’ve got blood all over me. My robe is ruined.” Another sob.
“Is the blood yours or the dog’s?”
“Who the fuck cares whose blood it is? It’s all over me, for God’s sake.” She sounded like she was going to start wailing again. Which was so not a good idea. The last thing Haley needed was two Males going into rage.
“I’m fine,” Farley said. “And no, this far away I can’t hear your thoughts, but I saw that look on your face.”
Yeah, well, Haley was glad he was so sure of himself, but Emily just had the special gift of irritation. There were quite a few times that Haley imagined drawing blood on the woman.
Obviously, asking nicely wasn’t going to work. Surprise, surprise.
Haley said, “Look, I’m going to give you until the count of ten to open this door. If you don’t, then I’m going to kick it in. Usually when I kick doors in I break a heel and these are my seventeen-hundred-dollar Ferragamos. I break a heel on your door, and I’m going to be pissed.”
Silence.
Haley counted. She was on five when the door clicked. When she tried the handle it turned. Inside, Emily was crouched in the immense claw foot tub, her bloody white robe wrapped around her like a body shield. Her pretty face was blotched and red, her short blond hair a mass of tangles. Even in a state of disaster she was still gorgeous.
“Can I come in?” Either way Haley was going in, but she at least wanted to give Emily a chance to make the right choice.
Emily gave a quick nod, then brushed her manicured fingers under her eyes, sweeping away new tears. Haley shut the door behind her.
The woman flailed a hand in her direction. “Lock it, lock it, quick.” Haley didn’t bother to tell her that if Deshi wanted through that door, it might last all of five seconds. And only because it was solid wood, not the cheap kind found in modern houses.
Haley put the lid down on the toilet and sat. The woman made some small gasping noises and put a hand to her lips. Haley waited for her to get through another wave of crying.
“I can’t believe ... I can’t believe he killed Max.” More tears were scraped away by her fingers, smudging blood and mascara. “He was such a good dog. A very good dog.”
“Better the dog than you.” Haley didn’t really mean to say that out loud.
Emily stifled a sob and used the sleeve of her robe to clean off her face. “Why? Why did he do this? I thought he loved me. I can’t believe he would hurt me like this.” She pushed up the sleeve of her robe and showed Haley the black and blue marks on her arms. “Look what he did,” she said, and followed up with one big choppy inhale that bounced her shoulders.
“Are you bleeding?” Because Haley sure could smell Human blood.
Emily pulled the collar of her robe aside. There was a bite mark, but given the devastation outside, it was minor. Then she showed Haley the cut on her thigh. That one might need stitches. Which meant, if Emily ran her yap, the Jersey City Prince would be in a concrete Tank by morning.
Think. Think. There had to be a way around this. Number one problem was Emily. Any scenario that involved her going to the doctor ended up with Deshi in the ADF and dead in a matter of months.
“Is the ambulance on its way?” Emily adjusted her robe. “I want to go to that private hospital just east of here. Don’t let them take me to Grady.”
“Emily, you can’t go to the hospital.”
“What do you mean? They’ll take you to whichever one you want to go to. The insurance will cover it.”
“If you go to the hospital, they will put Deshi in a hole and he will die.”
“Well, I’ll figure out how to manage. Everything will work out.” More fidgeting. “My mother did just fine after my father died. I know how to take care of myself.”
Haley pressed her palms into her eyes, willing the pain in her skull to stop. “Can you stop thinking about yourself for five minutes, and think about Deshi, for once in your selfish life!” In the absence of her yelling, the bathroom became painfully quiet. She looked at Emily. The woman was picking at the gold hairs on the robe in between playing with her hair.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.” But it sure did feel good. “You know, Deshi could die over this. Doesn’t that bother you even a little?”
Emily smoothed out her robe. “I just bought this two weeks ago. They’ll never get the blood out.”
“He ate the Chihuahua, too.”
Emily’s eyes flicked up. They were almost as blue as Deshi’s. “What did you say?”
“He ate the Chihuahua because it slept in the bed with you and had your scent on it. He just told you it ran out the door because he was afraid you’d never trust him enough to bond. But trust isn’t it. You don’t love him enough to care that he’s hurting. Don’t you get it, Emily?” Haley threw a hand at the door. “This is your fault! All of this. The Chihuahua, that mess out there, this other dog ... dead.”
“Excuse me?”
Haley put a hand on the tub and leaned closer. “You heard what I said.”
“My fault?”
“Yeah, your fault.”
“How dare you! How dare you blame this on me!” She jabbed a finger at the door. “He did this. He ate the dog, he destroyed the room, he came after me! He’s the monster! Not me! Him!”
“And how long did you think marital bliss was going to last if you kept turning down becoming his Link?”
Emily’s expression closed and some of the flush was replaced by gray. “That has nothing to do--”
“It has everything to do with this. Everything. He’s starving, Emily. He’s tried to tell you that for two years. He’s been begging you to help him, and you’ve done nothing but ignore him.”
“Starving? We were having sex...” A blush bloomed over her cheeks.
“Food, sex, it’s the same thing. And probably what pushed him over.”
There was no making this go away, but the mess needed to be taken care of. “I know a cleaning crew that can keep their mouths shut.” Because they had cleaned up some bloody messes at her apartment. Granted, the blood had been a different color. “Will you let me call them? They’re good. Very discreet.”
“I don’t care! Whatever. Now I want to go to the hospital.”
“Emily...”
Emily’s eyes flew wide and her face contorted in rage. Just like a Kin shifting in its Human skin, the real Emily revealed herself. “Don’t ‘Emily’ me! I don’t give a fuck if they take him out back and put a bullet in his head. He’s a monster. I hope they do. I hope they kill him and save me the suffering. I want him gone. I want him locked up. I want him dead! Now get on the goddamned phone and call me an ambulance!”
Haley stared at the woman, trying to figure out what the hell Deshi saw in her. She knew what Emily saw in Deshi, a cash cow. A way to become wealthy without breaking a nail. It was the only reason she’d married the Male, and everyone around saw it but him.
But being Human left Emily holding all the cards. No matter what her numbers were, her race always trumped the Kin. Deshi had attacked and tried to eat his wife, and that’s all any jury or judge would ever know. No one would stand up and explain the connection of food and sex. No one would be able to convince a jury of Human beings how painful it is to slowly starve to death. How madness consumes Males who are deprived of the metaphysical current, the life force of all Kin.
Getting Emily to care about anyone but herself wasn’t going to happen. If the woman had the capacity for empathy, Farley and Haley wouldn’t be here in this house. Instead, they would be heading back to her apartment, stuffed on Chinese food, her scowling about something obnoxious he said.
City of Dragons: Blood Bonds Page 21
