That's a Wrap

Home > Other > That's a Wrap > Page 10
That's a Wrap Page 10

by Heather Silvio


  I held the silent phone in my hand, in shock. He hung up on me. I decided my place gave us the privacy I wanted given the subject matter. Hands shaking, I texted him my address to meet in one hour. I didn’t know where he was in the city right now and I didn’t want to be difficult.

  Wait a minute. He was the one freezing me out. He wanted to keep it professional, I could keep it professional. A wave of sadness crashed over me at the thought of not touching him again or seeing his smile.

  Whatever. He made his choice.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Exactly an hour later, my doorbell chimed. I opened the door and our eyes met. His were hard marbles in a granite face. He followed me to my breakfast nook.

  “Please sit,” I said and gestured to the wicker chair opposite me.

  We sat simultaneously. He removed a small notebook and pen from his sports jacket inner pocket. “What do you have for me?”

  “Jena appeared in my home,” I started without preamble and that got his attention. I saw the worry in his eyes for a moment before the shutter dropped again.

  “Appeared?”

  “Yes.” I explained to Jacob exactly what a djinn was and Jena’s connection to Juni, as well as her admitting to me that she was the killer. “I am not working with her,” I added.

  “I know. Ms. Addison confirmed that when I spoke with her this morning.”

  My breath whooshed out in relief. “Okay, good.”

  “Is that it?”

  “No. You may be in danger.” I explained Jena’s threat to harm anyone who got in her way.

  “Can she be stopped?”

  That was the million-dollar question, right? “Probably not,” I admitted. “Not without killing her.”

  “How do we kill her?”

  “Just how Juni died; her heart has to be pierced.”

  “How do we get to her?”

  I chuckled. “You don’t.”

  “That’s not helpful.”

  My voice rose. “Well, forgive me for not wanting to be so quick to kill her.”

  “She’s a murderer. And you just said the only way to stop her is to kill her, Mia!” His voice had risen to match mine.

  “She’s hurt because Roger killed her sister,” I tried to remind him. “She’s acting out of a weird warped grief.”

  “Are you seriously making excuses for the monster serial killer?”

  I recoiled as if slapped. “Monster?”

  Guilt clouded his face. “That isn’t what I meant.”

  “Sure, it is.”

  “Mia—”

  “You see me as a monster,” I whispered.

  “I don’t know what to see you as,” he argued. “You won’t tell me who you are!” He stood and strode from the table toward the kitchen. He gripped the countertop with both hands. I stood and took a few steps toward him but stopped.

  “Why does it matter so much what category I am?”

  He faced me, anguish warring with anger on his face. “Because I don’t understand. Any of this.” He raked his hand through his hair. “What if you become like her?”

  “Now I’m not just a monster, but you think I could be a killer?!”

  “You tried to justify her actions and you don’t want her to be harmed!”

  We were yelling at each other when we both heard a popping noise. I scanned the room and, over the kitchen passthrough, I saw the shimmer in the living room. Jacob drew his gun as Jena completed her materializing.

  “Jacob, no!” I shouted, but I was too late.

  The shot rang out. Jena jerked backward against the couch. The anger in her eyes scared me. The popping increased exponentially in volume. Jacob covered one ear while training his gun on her figure by the couch. A second shot rang out. She reappeared between me and Jacob.

  “I won’t let you hurt her,” Jena told Jacob. She stepped toward him, arms outstretched.

  “Jena, no! He’s not trying to hurt me!”

  Jacob raised his gun again. Jena had reached him, grabbed him around the throat. His face mottled as he failed to draw in air.

  “Jena, no!” I screamed again. I took several steps toward her. She whipped her face around to glare daggers at me.

  “It’s better this way. He’ll only hurt you in the end.”

  She turned back to face Jacob, whose eyes now showed only the whites. He stopped struggling.

  Unthinking, I grabbed a large knife from the wooden block on the counter. Jena’s head turned toward me when the tip of the knife entered flesh.

  The hurt I saw in her eyes wounded me. She tried to dematerialize but it was too late. Her eyes widened a final time before she turned to water and drenched me and Jacob, who had slumped to the floor.

  I killed her.

  To save him.

  The conflicting statements spun around in my mind.

  I wanted to go to him, but instead I sat at the table, lay my head on the top. Tears fell while I waited for him to regain consciousness. As he did, he leapt to his feet, surprised by his unsteadiness, gun in his outstretched arm. He spun, looking for Jena. Did not react when all he saw was me.

  “Where is she? Where is Jena?”

  I lifted my head, the tears still falling. “She’s gone, Jacob.”

  “Gone? Where did she go?”

  “Dead,” I whispered.

  That got his attention. He lowered his gun, really saw me. “Dead?”

  My watery eyes met his. “I killed her.”

  “To save me.”

  I jolted at the words in my mind spoken aloud. “Yes.”

  He sat across from me again. “You did the right thing.”

  “Did I?”

  “Yes, she was going to kill more people. You said so yourself.”

  “She was only trying to protect me.”

  “What?”

  “Just now. She thought you were going to hurt me. She was confused. She was only trying to protect me.” The tears fell faster and hotter now. I had never killed anyone before, let alone a fellow paranormal being. It felt horrible.

  Jacobs appeared shocked. “I would never hurt you.”

  I gave him a crooked smile. “I know that. She didn’t. She thought she was protecting me,” I repeated.

  Jacob reached for me and I jerked backwards, up and out of the seat.

  The pain consumed me and I needed to be away from this. From him. From where I killed her. I shook my head to knock the thoughts loose, but it didn’t work.

  “I have to go,” I told Jacob. A strange white noise filled my mind. A low hum that was probably Jacob’s voice tried to filter through but was unable.

  “I have to go,” I repeated, as I opened the sliding glass door. Even though it was the middle of a bright, sunny day, I needed my refuge. I needed my water. I needed to recharge.

  I walked, fully clothed, down the stairs of my pool and settled at the bottom. That white noise continued with the low hum beneath. I ignored both and focused on the feeling of the water. A dark shadow appeared on the concrete of the other side of the pool.

  I saw Jacob pacing, yelling at me in the water. I ignored him. He jumped into the water, grabbed me, and pulled me to the surface. He was spluttering as we broke through the water. I was weightless in his arms, not fighting or helping him. He brushed my hair off of my face.

  “Mia, what are you doing?! This isn’t the answer.”

  I stared into his face and then laughed morosely. “You think I’m trying to kill myself?”

  He looked confused. “Aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  “Then why weren’t you resurfacing?”

  I was acutely aware of his arms around me now and the heat suffused my body. “I don’t need to resurface,” I explained without thinking. I cuddled in closer. He tensed but held me. Then the guilt returned. I killed someone. I struggled against him and he released me.

  We stood before each other in my pool. His eyes a torrent o
f confusion, desire, and fear.

  “You should go,” I told him before sinking back to the bottom of the pool. He remained standing there for several long minutes, watching me, waiting to see what happened. I closed my eyes to leave him to it. I guessed he must have seen whatever it was he needed, because underwater waves jostled me as he exited the pool.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The next morning probably dawned sunny and warm, but I didn’t know, because I never left my bed. Shades drawn kept my bedroom in relative darkness, tiny slivers of light peeking around the edges of the wood blinds.

  My phone remained on silent. I imagined people were trying to reach me, but I didn’t care. My thoughts were a maelstrom. This was what it had come to.

  I killed someone. A paranormal being driven mad by grief, true. But still. With more time, maybe I could have helped her. I killed her to protect a man who thought I was a freak. At least nobody else would die. This was cold comfort as I curled into a ball under my comforter.

  Other than a banana and bathroom breaks, I stayed in bed watching the sun through the blinds march across the sky and become dusk. I started to feel weirdly self-indulgent spending the day in bed. I sat up and stretched, grabbed my phone off the nightstand. Dang, my phone blew up while I was sleeping. Notifications of texts, phone calls, and voicemails filled the screen. Catherine and Evie, of course. Jacob. That one surprised me. He made his feelings pretty clear before he left yesterday. Well, before I fled and hid from him under the water, I supposed was the more accurate description. I sighed and began checking each of the texts and calls.

  My doorbell chimed as I reached the final of the increasingly frantic messages from my friends. I had a feeling I knew who was there, once I confirmed with a glance at the blinds that night had fallen. I also had a feeling I knew who wasn’t at the door. Jacob called twice but didn’t leave a message either time. I left the warm comfort of the bed and threw on a satin robe before heading downstairs.

  The doorbell chimed a second time. I opened the door. “You ladies are impatient.”

  Catherine and Evie threw themselves at me in a group hug.

  “We were so worried!”

  “I gave you until Evie woke up, but when you didn’t respond, we decided an intervention was in order.”

  “You can’t ignore us,” Evie added. “We’re your friends.”

  Catherine held up a bottle of wine. “We brought liquid libations.”

  Evie held up a gallon of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. “And comfort food.”

  I smiled at their enthusiasm. “Not that you can have either.”

  Evie pointed to her bag. “Not to worry. I brought a bottle of my sustenance too.”

  The three of us laughed as the women entered my home behind me. We paused in the kitchen to pour the drinks and scoop the ice cream. Then we collapsed on the couch.

  Concerned eyes stared at me. I broke eye contact and stared instead at my fidgeting fingers.

  “What happened, Mia? Jacob called me several times, asking about you. He said Jena was gone.”

  My eyes filled with tears. I looked at Catherine. “He called you?”

  “He did. He wouldn’t tell me anything else.”

  “What happened?” Evie echoed Catherine.

  I inhaled a deep breath and told the whole ugly story of my fight with Jacob, Jena’s misguided intervention, and my killing her. Both women gasped when I got to that part and my tears flowed freely.

  “Oh, Mia. I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” Catherine said softly. She leaned in to give me a tight hug. I took strength from her embrace, smelled the subtle scent of lavender.

  “Thank you.”

  “You know there was nothing else you could have done, right?” Evie asked this pointedly. I shook my head. “Seriously, Mia, misguided or not, Jena was a serial killer. She was unstable. You saved lives by taking hers.”

  “That sounds all well and good,” I responded more sharply than I intended. “But the bottom line is that I killed her when she was trying to help me.” I gasped for air when the tears came harder.

  Evie rose. She paced back and forth in front of us. “Bullshit,” she finally said and my mouth fell open.

  “What—”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit. I know what it’s like to take a life, remember.” I saw the haunted look in her eyes, a reflection of her own experience only a few months’ ago.

  “Sometimes it’s necessary. Killing Jena was inevitable. I can’t believe you thought you’d be able to talk her down.” She shook her head.

  Her words both hurt and comforted me. “I’ll never know,” I argued and she cut me off with a flick of her wrist.

  “Yes. You do. You’re hurting because you know this was always going to be the outcome and you were deluding yourself thinking otherwise. You agree, right, Catherine?”

  We both looked at Catherine, who held her hands up in the universal sign of don’t drag me into the middle of this.

  “You both have legitimate points.” We waited for her to continue but she didn’t. “That’s all.” She smiled serenely.

  And for some reason, that turned the tide for me. I laughed, a deep belly laugh that might have cracked a rib if I kept going too long. It felt good, though, that laugh.

  Catherine and Evie looked at me askance for a moment, looked at each other with a smile, and then all three of us were on the couch, laughing and hugging each other. I accepted this release and comfort.

  I wiped tears from my eyes, of laughter not pain this time. “Wiser words were never spoken, Catherine.” I held each of their hands.

  “Thank you both for coming here. You are absolutely right. I probably was delusional to think I could talk an irrational immortal being out of destruction. At least it’s over now and nobody else will be hurt. I can’t lay around feeling sorry for myself. What would that accomplish?”

  “Exactly,” Evie concurred.

  “Thanks, Evie, for being so blunt. And thanks, Catherine, for being so … accommodating.” I smiled and then my mouth turned down.

  “What?” Catherine squeezed my hand.

  “Jacob?” Evie asked. I nodded.

  “Yeah. I thought whatever spark,” I chuckled at the memories of the actual sparks flying, “we had might have led to something. He thinks I’m a monster.” My voice fell to a whisper on the last word.

  “Maybe,” Catherine said. “But, he called you—”

  “Didn’t leave messages,” I interrupted.

  “He called me. He asked how you were doing. I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him. Remember when I found out about Alex?” Her hunky boyfriend, Alexander Moore, was a half-incubus. “I needed time to process.” She shrugged. “My guess was that Jacob felt blindsided, like I did, and needed time.”

  “And Ryan?” Evie asked. Her human boyfriend hadn’t exactly jumped with excitement when he learned she was a vampire.

  Hope glowed within me. “Do you really think?”

  Catherine and Evie nodded.

  I steeled myself and released their hands. “I’m going to put everything out there.” I felt their eyes on me. I texted Jacob one last time. It was longer than I usually text, and probably I should have just called, but this was easier, and I still felt raw from his rejection. I hit send after typing the final line and smiled at my friends.

  The ball is in your court now, as they say.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I was impressed with myself that I did not continually check my phone for missed texts and calls from Jacob all night. I knew my phone was working. The lack of a text or a call by the next morning told me everything I needed to know. Maybe he called yesterday because he was simply a good guy. He wanted to make sure I was okay, but like a police officer checked in on a crime victim. Just doing his job. Not interested in more.

  I swallowed past the lump in my throat and headed downstairs to make coffee. It was almost time for Entertain
ment Daily. I was curious if Jacob updated Liz like he said he would once the murders were solved.

  “Good morning in the Valley! Welcome to Entertainment Daily. I’m your host, Elizabeth Addison.” The smile dropped from her airbrushed-to-perfection face. Faux concern replaced it.

  Stop it, I chided myself for my uncharitable thoughts. She was not a bad person, just career-driven.

  “Many of you have been following the Firecracker Killer case for the past couple of weeks. I promised that I would inform all of you at the conclusion of the case. Well, that time has come. Citizens of the Valley, as well as Los Angeles, can breathe a sigh of relief that the Firecracker Killer is no more. But, let me warn you, this next part may sound outrageous, like a pathetic attempt to boost ratings. Most of you will want to dismiss what I say as pure nonsense. I understand. I felt the same way when I first heard about it.” She paused dramatically and my heart was in my throat because I knew what she was about to say.

  “How many of you have watched television and movies about vampires and genies? How many of you have laughed instead of been afraid because you knew it was fake?”

  I put my hands over my mouth. She wasn’t going to out us. She couldn’t out us. Then I reminded myself that she said this was her goal. I closed my eyes for a moment, breathed deeply.

  “I am here to tell you that it’s real. I know, I know. It can’t possibly be true. Let me tell you a story. You may remember when I exclusively reported I was in possession of a photo of the Firecracker Killer. Many of you tuned in to my Facebook Live where the killer failed to show; not very many of you tuned in for the second attempt. You missed a doozy if that’s the case.” An image of Jena appeared in the corner of the screen. Liz gestured to it. “This individual, Jena Jawahir, appeared. And I mean appeared. She shimmered into being in front of me, those popping sounds we all recognize now, preceding her. I tried to talk to her; I learned her name. And then she vanished just like that.” Liz snapped her fingers; I couldn’t believe she was telling the world, but at least it seemed she wasn’t going to mention me. Yet, anyway.

  “She later appeared in a private home, where she admitted, in the presence of law enforcement, that she was the Firecracker Killer. She attacked said law enforcement representative and then a brave citizen, at great risk to herself, killed the killer in self-defense.” Liz paused again. She clearly relished the telling of this story.

 

‹ Prev