Everafter Series 1 - Everafter (38 page)

She shook her head. “Smashed.”

She looked so weak, so exhausted. I briefly cupped my palm against an unbloodied part of her face before moving across the room to sift through the remains of my torn clothing. There.

“This is Alexa Newland,” I said when the receptionist answered. “Put me through to Helen. It’s an emergency.”

“Ms. Lambros is in a very important meeting. What is the nature of your—”

I clenched my free hand and spoke over her, vehemently. “The police are on the verge of discovering a very messy crime scene, involving the mutilated corpse of the vampire implicated in all of the recent muggings. We need an intervention. Now.”

“Please hold.”

I fidgeted, glancing from the window to Val and back again. Helen’s sudden voice in my ear startled me.

“Where are you?”

I’d never heard her sound so agitated. “South of the Bowery. A warehouse off Water Street, near Market. Can you head off the police?”

“Stay exactly where you are. I’ll be there within minutes.”

I ended the call and returned to Val’s side. She was breathing shallowly, and her face was even paler than usual. I dropped to my knees, shivering for the first time as the adrenaline wore off enough for me to feel the cool air against my bare skin, and gently wrapped one arm around her shoulders.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

Her mouth twitched. “You’re naked.”

I pressed my lips to her uninjured temple, wishing that I could heal her with a kiss, just like in the fairy tales. “And your powers of deductive reasoning are staggering.”

She coughed, then groaned. “Don’t…make me laugh. One broken rib. At least.”

“Helen will be here soon,” I soothed her. “What about your head?”

“Concussion, I bet. Hurts. Dizzy. Don’t let me sleep.”

She was probably nauseous, too. When I rested one palm lightly over her stomach, she sighed. I let my gaze travel along the blood-streaked floor, over to the mangled body of the Missionary. I felt no guilt—only a grim satisfaction.

“It’s over,” I whispered. “You did it. You got him.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you. You bought me enough time to find my gun.” Val’s eyes were dark like fresh bruises, and clouded by pain. Even so, she tried for another smile. “I make a pretty good punching bag, too.”

I opened my mouth to retort, but shut it again at the sound of footsteps below. For a moment, I thought about trying to find something to cover up with. But the idea of putting on anything that had belonged to the Missionary made me feel ill. Squeezing my knees to my chest, I turned just enough to see the door.

Two men, one of them Darren, entered first—guns at the ready. I relaxed when I saw them. They surveyed the scene for a moment, then lowered their weapons. “Clear,” called out the one I didn’t know. Darren walked toward us, taking off his jacket. He handed it to me without a word.

“Thanks.”

He nodded, looking at the remains of the Missionary. “You really did a number on him.”

“Bastard had it coming.” Val tightened her grip on the gun reflexively.

The clicking sound of heels on the metal floor made us both turn in time to see Helen step over the threshold, her long, dark coat swirling around her ankles. She went directly to the corpse, not even acknowledging me or Val. She stood over it for a several seconds. Her jaw tightened once, then relaxed.

Finally she turned, her face impassive. Her steely gaze raked over me before focusing in on Valentine. We must have been a pathetic sight—Val slumped over and covered in blood, me trying to fold as much of my body as possible into Darren’s huge jacket.

“Tell me what happened.”

Val opened her mouth, but I jumped in first. I explained everything, beginning with the Missionary’s appearance at the Angel Orensanz Foundation earlier tonight. When I got to the part about calling Detective Foster, Helen stiffened.

“What do the police know?”

I looked over at the two bodies near the door, my heart aching. I couldn’t help but feel the sour twist of guilt in my stomach, either. We had sent them to their deaths. “Just that Val recognized him on the street and that we followed him here. I don’t know what they told dispatch. They must have seen the hooker, but I don’t think they got to talk to her.”

“We’re detaining the prostitute outside. What did she see?”

“All we got out of her was that the police were in danger, and that they’d managed to injure him.”

“She did say he was ‘strong,’” Val chipped in, trying to be helpful. I rested one hand on her leg. She looked even paler now. We really needed to get out of there.

Helen pointed to the corpse of the Missionary. “And him? What did he say to you?”

I frowned. Why did that matter? He was dead now. Finally. “Mostly just threats. He recognized Val, of course.” I paused, a worrying thought poked at the edges of my memory. “Oh, and somehow he knew that I was Val’s girlfriend. He threatened me.”

Helen exhaled dismissively. “Most vampires are aware of your feeding arrangement with Valentine. That’s nothing unusual.”

I opened my mouth for a sharp retort but Val groaned beside me, clutching her side. I immediately shifted to give her more support to lean on. “We need to get her to a hospital.”

“Very well.” Helen gestured toward Darren. “Get them into the car. Call ahead for Clavier.”

“What are you going to do?” Val asked hoarsely.

Helen dropped gracefully into a crouch and traced the side of Val’s face with one red-tipped finger. She didn’t so much as look at me. Don’t worry,” she murmured tenderly. “I’ll take care of it.”

Deep inside, the panther’s hackles rose. I agreed with her. Helen could be really creepy sometimes. She wasn’t Val’s mother, and she certainly wasn’t her lover, but she was acting like both.

She stood then, and Darren moved in. His movements were gentle as he helped Val stand, but as soon as she was upright, she leaned forward and vomited, barely missing his shoes.

“S-sorry,” she gasped. “It’s m-my head.”

I grabbed my torn tank top off the floor and wiped her mouth with the ruined fabric. Seeing her suffer like this was awful, but at least we both knew that the one responsible would never hurt her again.

“I’ll carry you,” Darren rumbled, lifting her easily into his arms. She sagged against his chest as he walked toward the door.

I looked over my shoulder once. Helen was talking softly with the other man, indicating various corners of the room. I wondered what she was going to do with the crime scene and the bodies, and what she had told the police to stop them from coming. I wondered what would happen to the prostitute.

Most of all, I wondered whether this was really all over. And whether we could finally now find peace.

Epilogue

I woke to an empty bed. Heart trying to claw its way out of my chest, I threw off the covers and ran to the doorway…only to stop, sighing in relief at the sight of Valentine reclining on the couch, swaddled by the afghan that my mother had knit for me when I went off to college. The television was on, its volume turned down low. A thick white bandage slanted from just above her right eye to halfway across her scalp.

She looked up slowly, wincing. “Hey. Did I wake you?”

“No, not at all. I was just worried when you weren’t in bed.”

“I woke up two hours ago with the mother of all headaches.” She wiggled her toes under the blanket. “Come sit?”

I crouched next to her head and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “I’m going to make some tea. Did you take something for the pain? Can I get you anything?”

Val pointed to an empty glass. “More juice?”

She said it almost plaintively, like a small child. My heart thumped hard in sympathy. “Of course.” I leaned in to kiss her again before heading for the kitchen. It was close to noon now. We hadn’t gotten home until almost five in the morning. Val had sustained two broken ribs, a concussion, and a good deal of blood loss. It had taken a while to get her cleaned and stitched up. The whole time, she had grumbled about being infirm again.

I had worried about whether she was going to be able to sleep, but exhaustion pulled her under as soon as we were in bed. I hadn’t been so lucky. The sensation of my teeth ripping into the Missionary’s shoulder had haunted me for several hours, yanking me back from the brink of welcome oblivion whenever I started to fall into sleep. I had been keeping my distance from Val, so as not to hurt her if I moved in the night, but finally I gave in and aligned my body with hers. Breathing in her scent gave me the peace I so desperately needed. On a positive note, the fact that I couldn’t sleep made it easy for me to wake Val every two hours as a precaution due to her concussion.

I was just firing up the teakettle when Val shouted my name. The panic returned full force, and I was through the doorway in an instant. But she was only pointing at the television. “Look!”

I sat near her feet and rested one hand on her leg over the blanket, willing my heartbeat to slow as I focused on the TV. One of the local news anchors was just introducing a story about three fatalities in a mysterious fire on the Lower East Side last night. She cut to a reporter who was stationed outside the Missionary’s warehouse. Or rather, what was left of it.

Warped metal rebars twisted up out of still-smoldering ruins, reaching futilely for the sky. Yellow crime scene tape fenced off the sidewalk behind the reporter. “Apparently, a resident of the neighborhood dialed nine-one-one at three thirty this morning to report a fire,” he was saying. “The investigation has only begun, but police tell us that the remains of three people have been discovered in the ruins. Two of them are presumed to be Detective Devon Foster and her partner Jared Wilson.”

I squeezed Val’s leg as the station flashed photos of Foster and Wilson on the screen. Devon was smiling in hers. And now she was dead. Val reached out from beneath the blanket to twine our fingers together.

“The third body has not yet been identified,” the reporter continued. “The police believe this to be a case of arson, but have no leads yet as to what the motive might have been.”

Val turned down the volume as the anchor switched to another story. I reached over to cup the uninjured side of her face, drawing my thumb gently across her lips. “See? It really is over.”

She kissed my finger. “Yeah. It really is. I just…God, I wish we could have stopped him from killing them.”

There was nothing I could say—the guilt was eating at me, too. But what could we have done? We’d had no options that would both preserve the secret and keep the police safe. Besides, it wasn’t as though we had expected the Missionary to be able to overpower two of them. Despite what I had told Val about this being over, I was still curious about him. Helen had to know something. Maybe she would confide in Val, someday.

Val’s eyes fluttered closed, and I withdrew my hand. “Sleep, love.” I went back into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of tea, sipping it slowly as I stared out the window. The street below looked quiet—peaceful. Weak sunlight filtered down through the bare branches of the trees to coalesce in pools on the chipped sidewalk. A woman walking her dog—a miniature Schnauzer wearing its own sweater—paused to chat with a man who was salting the steps of his walk-up. It was a quiet scene. Peaceful. After everything that had happened over the past few months, that world looked alien.

And yet, I was still a part of it. I had an exam in three days that I desperately needed to study for, and a legal brief due by the end of the week. I also needed to work on finding a summer internship. That prospect had once been exciting, but now it just seemed like one more hoop to jump through on the way to getting my degree. It was disconcerting, this new realization that what had once been my intellectual passion now paled in comparison to my fascination with the animal that lurked inside me.

I wanted to experience again that wholeness and unity that we had discovered in the warehouse. I wanted that effortless transformation and perfected communication. I had believed that I was destined to forever struggle against the desires of the panther, but after last night, I dared to hope that we could be at perfect peace with each other. Someday.

The sound of the doorbell pulled me out of my introspection. “Don’t get up, sweetheart,” I called, hurrying out of the kitchen. When I looked through the peephole, I felt my eyebrows arch in surprise. “It’s Helen.”

She swept into our apartment regally, making it seem dingier than it really was. As usual, she wore an immaculately tailored pantsuit. The dark red color of this one made my skin crawl. The panther bared her teeth.

“Helen,” Val said, and I went to the couch to help her sit up. She looked in confusion from Helen to the window and back again. It was broad daylight. “How are you here? Are you all—”

“I’m fine,” she interrupted smoothly. “And I have my ways of moving about in daylight if necessary. I’ll be out of town for a time, and wanted to check on you before leaving.”

Val looked surprised. “Thank you. But you didn’t need to come yourself.”

Even Helen’s shrug was elegant. I sat next to Val and put my hand on her knee to keep myself from fidgeting. It was logical for Helen to care about Valentine, I knew, but she took it further than my reason could justify and that made me nervous.

“I’ve taken care of last night’s…problem,” she continued. “There is no evidence that can be linked to either of you.”

Val nodded solemnly. “We saw on the news. Thank you.”

Helen looked at me for the first time since entering. “I’d like to speak with Valentine alone now, please.”

Internally, I bristled at the request, wishing that Val would say something to keep me in the room. Helen cowed her far too easily. Then again, I reflected as I walked back into the kitchen, I wouldn’t exactly have the impulse or inclination to buck Malcolm. I busied myself with pouring another cup of tea, and then washing the dishes in the sink. My hearing was effectively superhuman now, but even so, I couldn’t catch more than a word or two of what they were discussing.

After about a minute, Val said something about Helen having a good trip, which was all the license I needed to reemerge. As I walked out, I saw Val pocket a small black box. It was the perfect size for a ring.