“What? What’s wrong?”
Rayne releases Quinn and laces her fingers behind her head. She’s smiling.
Wheezing, gasping, Quinn scrambles away from the floating red dots. “I’m clear, now shoot her. Well? What are you waiting for?”
Uncomfortable looks from the gathered agents.
“Didn’t this vampire help—”
“But if she’s a civilian—”
“I saw her fighting with us—”
Quinn stamps her foot. “I don’t care. Shoot them.”
I hold my ground in front of Rayne and close my eyes.
Someone’s shouting from far away. There’s banging. Scuffling. Yelling.
“Stop!” One voice rises above the others, still distant, but clear. “Stay the execution.” More loud voices, then pounding footsteps. “Stop, please. You have to stop.”
I open my eyes. “Jack?”
He’s running along the walkway, waving a sheet of paper above his head. Two agents chase him down, a flying tackle that slides all three of them across the floor. He struggles, still waving the paper. “Wait, please.”
Quinn barges from the cell. “What the hell is he doing here? Get him out.”
Jack thrusts the paper forward. “I have…” Gasping breath. “Have reversal order…execution of Emily Friedman.”
I glance at Rayne.
She grins.
More murmurs from the gathered agents. Guns lower. Red lights wink out.
“Jack?”
He keeps his gaze on Quinn. “I’ve read the interview transcripts. Everybody knows Rayne was working with Agent Karson.”
“It doesn’t matter, she still—”
“Without further investigation you aren’t authorized to kill anybody.” Again he waves the paper. “I have it here, from the general, and countersigned with all required signatures. Reversal order for Emily Friedman, registered with the Clear Blood Foundation as Rayne. She doesn’t have to die.”
Quinn, still massaging her throat, snatches at the paper. Her lips twist in an ugly snarl. “Well, you shouldn’t be down here. You lot, get this trespassing civilian upstairs right now.”
Jack fights free of the grip on his legs and stands. “This civilian is now the publicly elected mayor of Angbec and would consider it a huge personal favour if you fine agents would restrain this woman. Attempted murder of a vampire is still a crime.”
Silence, then every gun on the floor turns towards Quinn. The red dots make their reappearance.
“Me? No, you can’t—I haven’t done anything. I’m a SPEAR agent, this is ridiculous.”
Jack waves his hand, a lazy dismissal. “Take her upstairs, please.”
The floor rushes towards my face, checked halfway by Rayne’s arm around my shoulders. She eases me to the ground beside the table. Her eyes ask the question.
“I’m fine.” Then I’m laughing and crying all at once. Norma nuzzles against me and I hug her too. “Did you see her face? That stupid guppy look in her eyes? I’m going to savour that one for years. And you, Norma, are a hero.”
“Ka-Karson.”
Rayne leans in to kiss me, and I let her. One tender hand cups my face and tilts my head to hers, allowing her deep, intimate access to my mouth. Can’t help it. I melt into that kiss, slide my hand around the back of her neck and—
A cleared throat.
Sighing, I pull away from the magic of Rayne’s lips.
Jack watches us, his expression a mix of wonderment and…lust? “Sorry to interrupt, ladies.”
I wipe my mouth. Try to straighten my borrowed clothes. “Jack—”
He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize, and don’t thank me. It’s the least I could do.”
“Mayor?”
A nod. “Mikkleson certainly can’t perform his duties from a prison cell, and I’m happy to take a win by default. How’s Pippa?”
Rayne’s hand tightens on mine.
“I’m not sure yet. I haven’t seen her.”
Jack steps back to free the way out. “Then let’s do that now.”
Chapter Thirty-six
“Why isn’t she awake?” Jack’s question echoes my thoughts.
Pippa sprawls on a low table, one arm dangling off the side. Her head lolls, smears of dried blood still caked about her throat. Her skin is ashy and dry, her features sunken. She looks…
“Pip?” I bang the glass fronting her cell. “Pippa? Wake up.”
Nothing.
“Get this cell open. Now. Someone.”
The woman from earlier, her gun hanging from its strap once more, gives an apologetic shrug. “You’re not authorized with your suspension in place. You shouldn’t even be down here.”
Jack lifts a hand. “Open the cell.”
Tense pause.
She shrugs. “I said it, that’s all I’m paid for. Every one of us knows that suspension is bullshit, by the way.”
The glass slides up and I’m inside, Rayne with her arm around my waist, Norma clinging to my shoulder.
So cold in the cell. The air is stale with the scent of old blood.
Rayne hisses through clenched teeth and mimes drinking.
“But she did, in the ambulance.” I show her my bandaged wrist. “She drank from me.”
She waves her hand. Something big and round going up—rising?—something, no, someone—someone falling and…
“The sun? You mean the sun came up before she could finish?”
She nods.
My eyes sting.
No. This isn’t fair.
I closed my eyes in that ambulance knowing I was going to die and happy to do it if it would save my sister. I had no idea sunrise could interrupt her drinking.
My mind flits back to the first morning Rayne succumbed to the sun, the way she froze mid-sentence and collapsed, utterly and unavoidably dead. Is that what Pippa did? Is that why we ended up at SPEAR rather than the hospital?
The female agent brings my wheelchair into the cell, bumping it over the entrance and lining it up beside Pippa’s table.
Rayne lowers me into it, making soft humming noises at the back of her throat.
What would I give to hear her voice right now?
She pats my shoulder, points to Pippa, then leaves the cell.
“Pip.” I pick at a corner of the dressing taped around my wrist. “I’m so sorry. You’re my baby sister and I promised Dad I’d look after you. One of the reasons I even wanted to be a SPEAR was to protect you. Can’t believe what a mess I’ve made of it.”
No movement from the table. No sound.
Norma hops off my shoulder and lands beside Pippa. She peers at me, then back at the table. “Karson? Dan-Danika?” Her voice is sad and gravelly.
“And the worst thing? You never heard me say I was wrong. You died thinking you were like the rest of them. But I don’t hate you, I hope you knew that before…”
Drip. Drip. Drip.
“You’re my sister, no matter what you turn into, and I love you so much and I’m sorry.”
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
“Fuck, Pip, what now? You’re my best friend. Who will I call for a chat at three in the morning? Who’s going to head off Mum’s matchmaking? Though that’s probably not an issue any more.”
Drip. Drip.
“I won’t tell her what happened. I don’t want her hating you too. I’ll say…something. One more lie won’t hurt.”
Drip. Drip. Splat.
I lift my head, finally tuning in to that sound on the edges of my hearing.
Red, thin liquid on the floor. Dripping off the table.
I follow the trail, find my gut clenching when I find the source.
“Pippa? Hello? Help! Edane med required. Hello!”
Rayne dashes back into the cell, followed by Jack and the other agent. She lifts a trembling hand to her mouth, while Jack turns aside, holding his mouth. The SPEAR darts forward.
“Where’s it coming from?”
“I don’t know.”
“Let’s turn her.” She grabs Pippa’s shoulders and flips her. Lifts her blouse. “There’s nothing there.”
My gut clenches. “It’s not a wound.” My voice is a hollow whisper. “She’s pregnant. I mean, she was. Before.”
Her face takes on a queer shade of green. “Oh, Jesus.”
Rayne tries to pull me back, but I’m not leaving. Not now.
More blood washes from Pippa’s body, not the black ooze of vampires, but bright, vibrant red. Like a human.
I try not to look too closely at the mess on the floor.
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
Rayne’s arms are around my shoulders, and she’s hugging me, shushing me, squeezing me tight, and brushing tears away with the pad of her thumb.
Hadn’t realized I was crying.
Three more agents enter the cell, these in the blue and red of the edane leg of the Omega team.
“Damn,” mutters one.
“She’s gone,” says the second.
The third frowns, looking first at Pippa, then Rayne, then back again. “Get a blood bag. No, three.”
The other two move to obey, though not without raised eyebrows.
I sit straighter. “What are you doing?”
The third medic moves to my chair and nudges Rayne to one side. He pulls me back, well away from the bed. “She was pregnant, right?”
“How did—”
“Did she feed before sunup?”
“A little, but—”
“Good. Vampire bodies treat pregnancies as contaminants, but it’s gone now. She may just—”
A shudder ripples through Pippa’s body. She gasps, low and hoarse, before abruptly lifting her head.
Her eyes are silver.
Rayne darts behind my chair and drags it back. Norma screeches in alarm and shoots out of the cell. The medic presses himself to the wall. Even the other agent swings her gun round from her back and levels it at Pippa.
“Don’t,” I yell.
Pippa sits up. She sways once, twice, then looks across to us. Her body becomes statue-still, rigid and silent.
“Pip?”
Her gaze shifts left, then right, scanning the floor and the blood. Her mouth twitches. “I…”
“Pippa, look at me. Please. It’s Danika.”
The silver of near blood mania flares brighter. “Dani?”
“Yes, it’s me. Please, don’t move. Sit there and wait. Can you do that?”
She touches her stomach. Not a fast or threatening movement, but I stiffen, and so does everybody else.
Where the hell are those two with the blood bags?
A tear slides down her cheek and she wraps both arms around herself. “All that blood…I lost it, didn’t I?”
I nod.
Still she doesn’t move.
“Pippa?”
She slides off the bed.
A hiss from Rayne. More back-pedaling. My chair bumps the lip of the cell entrance and sticks.
Bare feet leave slick, glistening footprints as Pippa crosses the cell.
Rayne grips my shoulders, apparently ready to swing me into her arms.
“Don’t.” I grab the armrests to hold myself in place.
Rayne opens her mouth, but she still can’t speak.
“You didn’t hurt me. Neither will she. She won’t. I have to believe that. Please, Rayne.”
A tense pause, then Rayne backs away, close enough to respond, but far enough to offer at least the illusion of privacy.
Pippa creeps forward and crouches beside my chair. The silver in her eyes flickers, then fades, replaced by the shimmer of tears. Her smile is forced and wretched. “You look awful. Green doesn’t suit you.”
Laughter bursts out of me, shock and relief combined. “But my hair still looks good, right?”
More tears slip down her cheek, slightly pink. “You always had the best hair.” Her hand extends as if to touch it, then jerks back at the last moment.
I throw my arms around her, feeling her body tremble to match mine.
How are we going to do this? How are we going to cope? What does this mean? What will Mum say? What are we going to do?
The questions, the uncertainties, the fear swirl through my mind, over and over until even thinking about them is impossible.
“Pippa—”
“This isn’t your fault,” she murmurs in my ear.
Typical Pippa. Comforting me when she’s the one who needs it most.
“I’m going to fix this.” Sniff. Rub the snot from my nostrils and upper lip. “I promise. I can’t…I won’t let you. I’ll figure out a way. Oh, Pip. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
She grips me tighter, sobbing hard against my bandaged shoulder. “I know.”
* * *
Pippa is gone when I wake next. Rayne too.
Norma snores at the end of my bed, barbed tail tucked in, wings folded down.
Fresh clothes lie on the back of the chair beside my bed. Still not mine and certainly not my style, but better than the gown and baggy trousers. I pull on the jeans and T-shirt, with only a little wincing, and shuffle to the door.
“What the hell, Karson?” Robert again, blocking my path with both hands braced in the frame.
“How did you know I was up?”
He points to the sensors in opposite corners of the room. “Normally we wouldn’t use them for agents, but you’re known as a live one.” He grins.
I match him. “Where’s Pippa and Rayne?”
“Both downstairs, in holding.” He lifts a hand at my indignant cry. “They’re the only places we can guarantee as vamp safe. You know that.”
He’s right, but the fact irks me. How have I never seen how badly we treat vampires?
“They’ve been helpful.” Robert leads me back to my bed, talking the whole time. “They both gave evidence on Vixen and her plans. She was going to use all that land she bought for food storage facilities and change the new mayor to get them onside.”
I have to think that through. “Cages for humans?”
He nods. “We have names, locations, dates, and plenty of other edane accomplices…everything we need.”
“But she’s dead.”
“Yes, you made sure of that. But she had lots of contacts and other older vampires in high places. We need to smoke them out and register those who’ve escaped registration.” He tucks the sheets around my hips.
Wait, when did he get me back into bed?
“You’ll have to be lucky. There were loads of them.”
“Perhaps, but it’s our job.”
“Our?”
Robert’s next smile shows the gap between his two front teeth, and a dark spot on the side of one molar. “They asked me to give you this. It’s actually why I came down.” He lays a laminated rectangle on my lap.
An ID card. My ID card.
The back of my throat prickles. “But I’m not a G6.”
“Seems fine to me.” He shrugs. “There’s the hologram and the issue date—that’s today, by the way. Looks like someone got promoted.” He leaves me holding the card, mouth open, eyes stinging.
When did I become such a soppy crybaby?
“Knock, knock?”
I dash tears from my eyes and sit straighter. “Noel?”
“The one and only.” He wheels through—how come his wheelchair has handrims?—and positions himself at the end of my bed. “Guau, you look like shit.”
“Screw you, wheels.”
He laughs, winces, and wraps an arm around his stomach. Through the open front of his shirt, stiff white bandages cover most of his torso. “Did you hear we have a new Grade Six on the Alpha team?”
Jammy bastard. How did he know?
I hold up my new ID. “Seems they won’t take no for an answer this time.”
“Or they worry you’ll set your pet vampire on them.” He rolls back as I raise my first. “I joke, I joke, be calm. When did you get so high-strung?”
“When you became an insufferabl
e arsehole.”
“Me? No. Perhaps you’re thinking of Quinn?”
I lower the fist. “How are you?”
He shrugs. “Internal bleeding, gastrointestinal perforation, cracked ribs. I lost some lower intestine and they accidentally took my appendix.”
“Seriously?”
“Ha, no. Drugs make you gullible. But I must hug my desk for a while, no fieldwork for many weeks.”
I study Noel’s face, the bright eyes, designer stubble, and strong, square jaw. In another place, time, and life, I might have really fallen for him. He’s one of the few men able to keep up with my snark and willing to give as good as he gets. Good with a gun too.
“Thanks, Noel.”
He cocks his head. “No. Don’t do the sentimental woman thing. It’s too much for me, sí?” He pats his chest. Hisses through clenched teeth. “Mierda, that hurts.”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “Pussy.”
“You wish,” he shoots back.
Yep. In another place, time, and life.
A tap at the door draws my attention outward.
“Mum?”
She stands in the door frame with one of our ward assistants, handbag clutched to her side. Both eyes are red, puffy. Her cheeks have faint dried streaks on them. Worse than that, her expression is a miserable blend of fear, hope, and pain.
Noel takes one look and wheels his chair out, herding the ward assistant ahead of him. “We speak later, Dee-Dee.”
“Good to see you, Mum.”
“Mm-hmm.” She doesn’t move.
“I—sorry I didn’t call before. I got swept up in the case and…” Why is she staring? As if drinking me in. “Mum?”
She roots through her handbag and comes out with a small plastic bag. “I came to give you this.” She tosses it at the bed. Still standing in the doorway.
I use the sheets to pull the bag closer. Inside, a photo in a tarnished silver frame. Mum, Dad, Pippa, and me, standing in front of our old house back in Cipla. It’s spring there; flowers are blooming and the sky is pale blue, streaked with soft puffs of cloud. Sparrows perch in the heavy fronds of jasmine crawling up the side of our home.
I remember that day.
We were about to go on a day trip, some beach down south. Mum hated it, but Dad couldn’t wait to dive into the sea and show us how to swim as he did as a child. We came back that night exhausted but happy, covered in sand and crusted streaks of sea salt.
Both Ways Page 29
