by Gina LaManna
“Don’t be ridiculous! I was in there snoring up a storm, and out in the living room you’re dueling for your life!” She held a hand to her forehead and mock fainted onto the bed. “What a disaster. Do you see how I’m horrible at my job? Completely oblivious. What a mess. I’m a hot mess, Dani, and I’m sorry.”
I laughed, unable to help myself even as her eyes teared up with remorse. Even in utter despair, there was a bounciness to Willa’s voice, the very spirit of her. I wondered again why she’d chosen me to be her friend, and then pushed past the thought. I already loved her so easily I had no desire to question the magic of it.
A shadow in the doorway made me glance up, over her shoulder, where I found the captain leaning against the door. “Matthew,” I breathed, an involuntary sound.
His face was worn, drawn with worry and frustration, but as I murmured his name, he looked up, his eyes lighting as they landed on my face. “Detective. How are you feeling?”
“Is he always so formal?” Willa thumbed over her shoulder. “I really should call you detective too. I think it suits you.”
“Dani,” I said, resting a hand on her arm. “Willa, do you mind if we have a minute?”
“Fine, but I’ll be waiting outside...” Her voice trailed off as another woman stomped through the door. Willa’s eyes immediately shot up to study the woman’s hair, pants, and shoes—all dark, and the utter opposite of Willa’s brightness. “I take that back. If she’s staying, I’m staying.”
I snorted. Willa huffed herself into a corner chair and picked up a magazine, which she pretended to read.
“Uh, Detective, Captain?” Sienna raised her eyebrows. “May I have a word?”
“Sure.” I watched the necromancer’s eyes flick over to Willa. “It’s fine—she’s in this with us. Close the door behind you, please.”
Sienna kicked the door shut with her combat boots. Today her hair was fire engine red and her shirt of choice had a large expletive printed on the front. I halfway wondered how she’d gotten past security at the hospital, and then I figured she must be a frequent flier around these parts what with her skills and connection to the NYPD.
“I’ve got some updates for you,” she said, looking down at her clipboard. “The body I got in last night? Cause of death was—” she paused as Willa squeaked in the corner with concern—“well, I won’t go into it, but Lorraine was slashed with claws and bled out. However, there’s a catch.”
Matthew shifted his weight from one foot to the next. “A catch?”
“I initially thought werewolf, what with it being the full moon, but that wasn’t right,” she said. “Most wolves have a bit of healing magic in them, ironically. It helps them heal quickly from wounds—that’s one of the reasons they might lick a scrape while it’s still bleeding. The magic is healing, and it will help bind the injured area and seal it off to infection.”
I had suspected as much after having heard Anita’s summary of my own scrapes. Once again, I wondered who the wolf had been and why he or she had chosen to save me against all odds.
If I had to guess, I would wager the identity of the wolf to be Grey. After all, who had more of a desire to slaughter Harry than the man who’d lost his love to the sorcerer?
Either way, the wolf hadn’t succeeded in killing Harry. Harry had been taken into custody when Matthew, Nash, Willa, and a slew of others had arrived at my door. The wolf, it seemed, had chosen to save my life instead of taking his revenge on Harry.
“Except...” Sienna blew out a frustrated breath. “The healing magic wasn’t there. Lorraine—poor thing—had absolutely no signs of healing on her body. It’s as if the creature wasn’t actually a werewolf.”
“He wasn’t.”
Her eyes flicked up from the clipboard. “Excuse me?”
“It wasn’t a werewolf,” I said. “We caught the man responsible for her murder, and he is a sorcerer. He used some sort of complex Cloning Spell to transform temporarily into a werewolf and steal the attributes of their powers—not the real thing of course, but an imitation.”
“Hence the lack of healing magic. It’s not a perfect clone.” Sienna caught on quickly. She bit her lip, then frowned. “Why does nobody ever tell me these things? They just give me the dead body and then expect a report. I swear. It’s the most thankless job in the business.”
“I’m sorry! I was unconscious,” I said. “I didn’t even know you had the body.”
Sienna rolled her eyes. “What’s your excuse, Captain?”
Matthew didn’t comment, but his eyes slid toward me.
“Right. Fine,” Sienna said. “Well, I’ll get back to my friends then—corpses don’t talk, which helps us to get along just fine. Plus, hospitals make me itchy—I get too many people asking me to bring their grandpaps back to life, and it creeps me out.”
“Sienna,” I said with a smile. “Thank you.”
She harrumphed and stomped out.
“Interesting lady,” Willa said from the corner. “A real necromancer? Yowza.”
We didn’t have long to marvel about the magic of the dead because two more visitors arrived before the door had even slammed shut.
“Felix!” I grinned, then saw the second figure and straightened in bed. I glanced down, made sure all my skin was covered, and pulled the sheet up higher. “Chief, uh, hello! To what do I owe the visit?”
The chief of the Sixth Precinct—an orc who challenged Matthew in size but not in beauty—nodded toward me. “I came to thank you for your help, Detective.”
“It’s Dani, please,” I said. “I’m retired.”
“Once a detective, always one,” Chief Newton said. “I owe you an update and wanted you to hear it straight from me. Well, from both of us. Felix?”
Felix coughed, then handed over a second pink balloon that said GET WELL SOON. I debated sending a pen through it like Matthew had, but Willa was too entranced by the glittering letters, so I refrained. I nodded for them to hand it to her, and she beamed with delight as she grasped the string.
“Who is she?” Felix asked as he watched her with interest. “And why’s she here?”
“A friend. Trusted—if it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t have found Harry, and I wouldn’t be alive.”
“Understood. Pleasure to meet you,” Felix said with a hopeful grin. “Felix. I’m the tech guy for the Sixth Precinct, and if you ever fancy a tour of the place—”
“Felix,” the chief snapped. “Your report.”
“Right, right,” he said, flustered. Felix toyed with the buttons on his jelly-stained shirt. “Let’s see here. Good work and all that, Detective. We have Harry in holding, and he’s starting to talk. He’s rolling over on a bunch of other midlist drug runners. In fact, that’s the sole reason Nash isn’t here.”
“But,” I interrupted. “Nash is Homicide.”
“He’s helping Narcotics on a huge bust that’s spread throughout the borough—they needed extra guys. We’ve nailed seven upper level dealers already this morning. We have yet to get the head honcho, but that’s a different case entirely. The narcotics team will handle that one.”
“Wow, that’s great,” I said. “I forgive Nash so long as he didn’t tell my mother I landed in the hospital. And what about Jack?”
“I have no comment on the location of your mother,” Felix said just a little too smoothly, too practiced. “As for Jack—he is fine. They took him in, did a full scan, and after flashing his puppy dog eyes, he got the Comm address of his nurse. I think he’s fine.”
Willa inhaled a gasp. “That ass! He asked for my number just last night. Pig!”
I winced. “Did you give it to him?”
“Of course not.” She crossed her arms and pouted. “But it’s still rude.”
“That’s Jack.” Felix laughed, grinning to himself with a bit of admiration for my brother before the chief cleared his throat. Felix’s grin faded, and the tech shot straight back to business. “Right-o, let’s see. I’m combing through Blott’s office,
Comms, etc. We got a warrant for everything thanks to Harry’s confession. So far, we’ve found nothing linking him to the drugs or the crimes. Seems Harry just wanted to buddy up to the new mayor so he was in a better position to run his business. I’m sorry, Dani, but we don’t have anything that can be used to hang Blott.”
I caught myself frowning, thinking I’d wanted Blott to be guilty. I’d wanted him in jail for the murder of Mayor Lapel, but it looked like that might not be happening. I wondered, not for the first time, if I’d let my emotions get the better of me. I hated how he’d treated Willa more than the way he’d treated me, but being a jerk wasn’t cause for a murder one charge.
“I know,” Willa said softly, as if reading my mind. “It’s okay, Detective. It’s for the best that he wasn’t involved.”
Willa was right. Without looking at her, I nodded for Felix to continue.
“As for Mayor Lapel and Crystal—we’re still searching for the Goblin Girl’s real name—it’s as Harry said,” Felix said with a sigh. “He killed them with runes in his house at Sorcerer’s Square. Lured them there by saying he had information on the drug issues and wanted to help their campaign. When they arrived, he had the runes set up and murdered them—I assume you can derive the rest from there.”
My confirmation was interrupted by an outburst from Willa.
“It’s just so unfair!” she burst. “That sucks! For both of them. Poor Crystal. Poor Mayor. Poor Mrs. Lapel. That really bloody sucks balls!”
The whole room fell into silence.
“Yes,” Felix wandered eventually. “I guess one could say that.”
Then Willa laughed, giggling hysterically as she realized her misstep. Her face was red as holly berries, and she slid lower into her chair and pulled the magazine up higher. “Sorry for interrupting. Continue.”
“Yep, I’m not sure how to follow that up,” Felix said. “Chief?”
Orcs probably didn’t blush, but the chief had come close. He gave a hearty, manly sort of phlegm-busting cough that made me wrinkle my nose and set down the Jell-O that Anita had left on the table.
“We just wanted to say thank you. We know you retired, and this was a special consultant job,” the chief said. “We owe you, Detective. If ever you decide the pizza industry isn’t where you belong, we’d welcome you back as our resident Reserve.”
I gave him a genuine smile. “Thank you, Chief. That means a lot.”
“And in the meantime!” Felix raised a finger and grinned. “We’ve ordered DeMarco’s pizzas for the entire office today.”
“Poor Jack,” I said. “I should probably hire extra help.”
“That’s what I’m for.” Willa stood. “Out, gentlemen. This girl needs to rest and I need to go make some pizzas. Matthew?”
“I’m staying,” he said.
“Fine.” Willa kissed me on the cheek, then with the confidence of a Brazilian supermodel, she clucked at the chief of paranormal police and the tech guru. “Let’s go, gentlemen. She needs her rest.”
I’d never seen the chief look befuddled, but that would be the word to describe his expression as he was herded out by an annoyed blonde. Felix grinned and gave me the thumbs up, mouthed keep her, and then followed his boss.
“Alone,” I said a moment later, after the door closed and left me and Matthew in silence. “Finally. I’ve been wanting to ask you—”
A tentative knock sounded before I could finish. Matthew strode to the door and cracked it open, sending a poor aide scrambling away with a growl.
“What exactly did you want to ask?” he murmured as he swiveled back. “Sorry about that.”
“Never mind,” I said. “Now’s not the time. How are you feeling? Your leg can’t be healed.”
“It’s fine,” he said, rubbing a hand self-consciously over his knee as he watched me cautiously. “I hold together a little better than you. Heal quicker, too.”
“Yeah, rub it in.”
“Dani,” he said, pausing as his gaze leveled to meet mine. “I haven’t thanked you. I probably shouldn’t have come to you for help on this case in the first place, but we were at a loss. Thank you.”
“I’m glad you asked for my help, Matthew,” I said, feeling a new heaviness come to rest on my shoulders. “Also, I know you heard the chief’s offer today. I don’t think I’m ready to come back. I don’t know if I ever will be.”
“Nobody expects you to return to the precinct. That doesn’t mean the door closes on you. Ever.”
“But Lucia...”
Matthew’s eyes flickered. “We received her resignation letter this morning. It’s postmarked from The Isle. She—well, read it yourself.”
He handed over the letter. It was handwritten in simple language:
Dear Chief Newton,
Unfortunately, I have opted for early retirement from the Sixth Precinct. Please consider this my formal resignation.
Lucia Livingston
“This doesn’t make sense,” I said. “She was so excited about her career—excited to take over for me. To help bring justice to those who deserve it. I don’t buy this.”
“You retired, Dani.” Matthew’s words were soft and gentle, but they were packed with meaning. “Things happen.”
“I know that better than anyone.” I blew out a breath of frustration. “That’s why I’m skeptical. I know what it’s like—how things happen, and it’s not like this.”
“We’re looking for her replacement,” Matthew said. “The chief wanted me to ask if you’d be available to help train a new recruit. Paid, obviously. Part time.”
“I enjoy the training,” I said. “I’d love to help. As long as it’s not a full-time thing. I can’t keep abandoning Jack at the pizzeria.”
“We won’t be ready for your services for some time. You know how hard it is to find a Reserve, let alone one as talented as you.” He trailed off in thought. “Enough about work. Are you okay, Danielle?”
“I’m sore, but I’ll get over it.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“What do you want me to say, Matthew? Everything has happened so fast. I feel like I don’t know what’s up and what’s down right now.” I sighed, gestured for him to come closer. “I’m sorry. It’s all a lot to deal with right now.”
“I know it is, and I wasn’t asking for any answers. I can’t seem to give any myself.”
“Aren’t we just a pair.” I gave him a wry smile. Then I opened my arms and pulled him to my chest. “I do love you, Matthew—I hope you know that. I always will.”
“I know,” he breathed against my neck. “I love you too, Danielle.”
We parted, and both knew those words didn’t mean the sort of love we craved. It was the sort of love that had nothing to do with physical attraction or romance and everything to do with the knowledge that we’d dug through hell together and made it back again. The sort of love that can’t be wiped away by distance, by time, or even by a broken heart. The sort of love that permeates the heart.
Before we could better voice our true sentiments, we needed to heal from the past. To each become whole. Because two halves don’t make a whole in a relationship: Two wholes make one. One stronger, more powerful union. Only then can it last a lifetime.
“The white wolf,” I said, my voice sounding froggy and worn. “Do you know who it is? Or, what, I should say?”
“White wolf?”
“The one who saved me,” I said, gesturing toward my arms. “Licked my wounds.”
Matthew still looked mystified. “Danielle, I’m worried about you hitting your head—”
“He leapt through the window and took down Harry just before Harry killed me,” I said. “I thought maybe it was...why are you staring at me like that?”
“You lost a lot of blood. Are you sure it wasn’t...” He cleared his throat, struggling. “The blood loss might have affected your vision.”
“I’m not imagining this wolf, Matthew. I didn’t dream up a savior or hallucina
te him. My eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.” I thrust my arm forward, again revealing the wounds there. The roughness, the warmth of the wolf’s tongue against my flesh was as real as anything in this room. “I felt his tongue. He helped stem the bleeding. You heard Sienna—wolves can do that.”
“Werewolves, sure. But they’re not—ah, sensitive enough in their transformed state to help a human,” Matthew said. “And I’ve never seen a white wolf before. I’m sorry, Dani—when we found you in your apartment, you were alone except for Harry.”
I swallowed my bitter recourse when I could see it wouldn’t get me anywhere.
“Danielle—”
“It’s fine. Maybe you’re right,” I said, even though I knew that was a lie. I just couldn’t fight him anymore on it because I would never win. If I wanted the answers, I’d have to follow them myself. “Say, do you know when I can get out of here? I’m feeling much better and I have things to do.”
Matthew laughed, and we returned to our usual, friendly selves. “Yeah, you’re fine. Anita said to stay one more night.”
“I’m not—”
Matthew raised a hand. “I’m going to let Anita fight with you.” He called for the nurse, then turned back to face me. “I hope you know I believe you. But I also know what I saw, and you were alone when I broke through that door except for Harry. I remember the sight vividly.”
He swallowed, and I imagined him picturing me bleeding out onto Harry’s limp body, and I understood. I’d felt the same way watching him fight the crazed werewolf over Lorraine’s corpse.
“I know,” I whispered. “It’s okay, Matthew. I promise.”
He nodded, but before he could respond Anita arrived and shooed him out with a wave.
“Sorry, Captain,” she said, “I’m helping this pretty lady with a shower. She smells like death warmed over.”
Matthew got an interested gleam in his eye for all of one second. However, his professionalism won out. Mostly.
Before he left, Matthew leaned forward and circled his hand behind my head, dragging my lips to his and crushing them with a scorching, tender kiss. My hands found the back of his head as we lingered together, oblivious to the outside world.
