hellcat 05 - come hell or high water (5 page)

Kimberley pulled away to study Trish with large eyes and drew in a shuddering breath, then…burst into tears. 

It took Kimberley several minutes to stop blubbering, and by then Trish also needed the hankie that Derek handed her, as she too was tearing up.  Derek helped Trish get the other woman to a chair at the table and went to fetch a glass of water.  Gabi held back, and Kyle did the same.  Perhaps they were thinking the same thing; that not everything about Kimberley’s actions could be excused by Jason’s activities.  Her relationship with the psychotic human had only come about because she’d been using her Doppelganger gifts to commit grand larceny.  She’d been so caught up in her own feelings of self-importance that she’d only considered her own wish fulfilment rather that the possible consequences for her own supernatural race.  She’d been a selfish, spoiled brat who’d turned down Byron’s offer of employment because it wouldn’t have afforded her the high life that she’d craved, and instead used her Doppelganger gift to steal what she wanted.

Kyle glanced Gabi’s way, silently acknowledging their mutual dubiousness and looking to her for guidance.  While they might not be as close as they had once been, Kyle had spent too many years trusting her uncanny knack of sniffing out trouble to not trust her instincts now.  Gabi checked they weren’t being observed by Kimberley or the others before shrugging; there was no warning bell clanging inside her head, so perhaps the woman was on the level this time.  Either way, she and Kyle would be treating anything Kimberley said or did with a healthy dose of internal scepticism.

When the worst of the bawling and blubbering were out of the way, Gabi took a seat opposite the Doppelganger and leaned back with an air of indifference that fooled no one.

“So what are your plans now, Kimberley?” she asked, her tone mild as she picked at a fingernail.  “What are you going to do to support yourself?”

“I won’t be going back to my old ways,” Kimberley told her firmly.  “I can’t turn back the clock and undo what I did, but I can grow and learn from my mistakes.  I know what I did was wrong, and I want to find ways to make up for that.  I
will
find ways to make up for that.”  The woman sounded almost fierce.  Gabi liked that; defensiveness she wouldn’t have trusted, but fierceness was a good sign.  “I spoke to Byron about joining the SMV, but of course, he told me that things are changing.  I might be too late to help like that.  So, I think I’m going to study teaching. I want to run courses for teenagers in the supernatural world.  Start some kind of youth programme that caters to kids who might be in the same place I was, feeling like no one understands them.  Maybe I can help that way.”  She looked up, realising all eyes were on her, and suddenly blushed, as though embarrassed by her forwardness. “But I am open to suggestions,” she went on quickly. “I would appreciate any ideas you have for how I can give back and make a difference.” 

Gabi couldn’t detect a single note of insincerity in her, and nothing about her bearing or physical reactions said she was being deceptive. She genuinely seemed to want to help.  Before Gabi could speak, Derek leaned across from his seat one chair away from her and gave her arm a squeeze. 

“That’s a great idea,” he enthused before glancing around at the rest of them.  “Don’t you think so?  I might be out of work too, so maybe this would be an opportunity to link up some kind of physical programme that they could be involved with too.  Let off steam somewhere safe and in an environment where they don’t have to pretend to be something else.  All Werewolves could benefit from some martial arts training, the others from self-defence training.”  Derek’s eyes were alight with hope and excitement, more animated than Gabi had seen him for months. 

Trish was almost bouncing out of her seat at the idea; she’d noticed Derek’s change of attitude as well. Her expression was cautiously hopeful. 

“There’s nothing like that right now, is there, Gabi?” Trish asked, looking her way.  “A group that would be there as mentors and guidance counsellors for young supernaturals?”

“Well, no, nothing formalised,” Gabi told her, not quite as convinced as the others seemed to be.  “Each race does what they can. Shifters and Werewolves are probably the ones who would benefit the most.  It may take some persuading to get the Magi on board.  They would be in full training with a Magister by their teens, and teen Vampires are rare and certainly no one would be permitted to Turn one in our Clan.”  She shrugged. “I guess you would have to run it by Margaret and the Alphas. Byron may be able to help with premises and setting up costs.  There’s no harm in trying it.”

“Maybe you could offer drama classes,” Trish added, her nimble mind already racing ahead.  “That’s your background, isn’t it?  That would be fun and you could teach them how to conceal their true nature around humans.” 

Kimberley nodded eagerly, her relief unmistakable.

“Great,” Gabi said, drawing out the word.  “I’d love to stay and brainstorm all of this, but I have things to do.”  Since it was now several hours past sunset, she had a Vampire to talk to, and it wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.  Kimberley’s return to the land of the sane-and-gainfully-employed wasn’t her circus.  “I appreciate your apology, Kimberley.  Good luck with whatever you decide to do.” 

The Doppelganger gave her a tentative smile, and Gabi gave Kyle a friendly elbow in the ribs on her way out of the room.

CHAPTER 3

Gabi’s legs felt heavy and tension constricted her chest as she approached the small, unassuming building huddled on the edge of Julius’s estate.  She hadn’t known of its existence until the morning after the battle for the Source.  It had only one function: to house newly Turned Vampires until such time as they learned enough control to be allowed out with the rest of the Clan.  Gabi only knew of it now because she’d been front and centre at the creation of a new Vampire shortly after the battle for the Source had been won.  Joshua Maclary—a human private investigator with a penchant for unusual weapons, who’d come looking for a Werewolf missing from his own city, and who had quickly become a firm and trusted friend to them all—had been dying of a grievous wound when Gabi took the decision to try to Turn him.

Gabi opened the outer door and Charlie, one of Julius’s personal guards, nodded a greeting from behind a small desk as she entered.  She nodded back and forced herself to take a slow deep breath, steadying herself before taking the stairs down to the heavily secure rooms.  Reaching the bottom, she turned and walked the short distance to the first cell and knocked on the thick, steel door.  She needn’t have gone to the effort, he already knew she was there, and would be aware of her stress and anxiety.

“It’s open,” his voice rumbled from inside the small room. 

She couldn’t tell anything from the tone of his voice.  She reached for the handle and the heavy metal door swung silently outwards on well-oiled hinges.

“Mac?” she asked tentatively.  The room was dark and she could only just make out the silhouette of a man standing on the far side of the cramped space. 

“Gabrielle,” he acknowledged, his tone too formal.

“Fergus says you’ve passed the first stage.  You can leave here now.” She indicated the cell block as a whole with a flick of her hand.  “It’s fully dark outside; will you take a walk with me?”

For several moments he simply stood there, still as death, quiet as a tomb.  Gabi couldn’t even tell if he was looking at her.  The darkness in the room was so complete that even her extraordinary night vision couldn’t pierce it.  She waited, concentrating on keeping calm. 

And then he was moving towards her in that quick, fluid way of Vampires; silent as a ghost, but far more solid.  She backed up, giving him space to leave the cell.  As he emerged, the pale light from the upper chamber lent just enough illumination for Gabi to see him.  His clothing was in tatters, his appearance unkempt.  His habitual five-day-old stubble had grown into a full salt-and-pepper beard, and dried blood matted strands together in clumps.  He’d made a token effort to wash the blood from his face, but he’d missed more than he’d cleaned.  Gabi didn’t need the heads-up from Fergus to know he hadn’t showered since his Turning; the stench of Vampire and blood was almost enough to make her gag.  His eyes caught hers and there was a disturbingly feral quality to his gaze that Gabi had never seen before.  She steeled herself not to react to the sight of him, but something of her unconscious response must have been perceptible, if only to a Vampire.

“That bad, huh?” he asked, one greying eyebrow raised as a wry attempt at a smile lifted one corner of his mouth.  It didn’t reach his eyes, but Gabi was relieved to see it nonetheless.

“Um, how about we take that walk after you’ve reacquainted yourself with a shower and some clean clothes?” she suggested, keeping her voice light.  “There’s a shower room upstairs.”

This time his smile was genuine.  “Fair enough,” he answered. “I’m sure Charlie can show me the way.” He glanced towards the top of the stairs, where the other Vampire waited out of sight, giving them space to talk but close enough to step in if Mac made any untoward movement towards Gabi.  She stepped aside and let Mac take his first steps into his new reality, the one where he avoided sunlight and consumed human blood to survive. 

Washed and in clean clothes, the new Mac looked a lot like the old Mac, except for the subtle changes to his skin and posture. The tightening and plumping of previously aged flesh took about ten years off him.  His body also moved more freely, without the slight stiffness that Gabi had become accustomed to seeing. 

“Walk?” she asked as he paused in the doorway and breathed in deeply.  “We’ll have company, I’m afraid.”  She indicated Charlie already donning his battered Stetson despite the utter lack of anything resembling sunlight. 

Mac breathed out as deeply as he’d breathed in and nodded silent acceptance of their chaperone.  He followed Gabi out into the mild evening.  She led the way towards a small copse of trees.  Charlie was their silent shadow several metres back.

“He’s for your protection?” Mac finally broke the silence. 

Gabi nodded, glancing back at the Vampire.  “It was a compromise,” she admitted.  No one knew how Mac was going to react to seeing her, both because he was a newly Turned Vampire and because he already knew it was Gabi who’d made the decision to Turn him.  “You know Julius.”

“He is right to be cautious, especially of your safety,” Mac said.  “I’ve seen new Vampires before.  I know how unpredictable they can be, and I’ve seen the damage they can do.” A slight shudder vibrated his body. 

“You’ve adapted well,” Gabi assured him. “Even Fergus is amazed.”  Fergus had undertaken the physical act of Turning Mac, and so had assumed the responsibility of seeing him through the early stages of Vampire life and assessing his progress. “I’m not worried that you’ll lose control.  Not unintentionally.”  She forced herself not to break stride and to stay just a few feet from him.  The unspoken words hung between them in a heavy silence.  If he was angry with her, all bets were off, and she knew it.  Charlie should be able to stop him killing her, but there was every chance he’d injure her first.  If he was quick enough, he could snap her neck or worse. 

A moment later they walked into a small clearing in the trees. A downed tree lay on the damp ground, moss and lichen beginning to take over as the earth reclaimed its own.  She crossed to it and folded herself down onto it, patting a spot next to her before wrapping her arms around herself as though a chill had suddenly descended.

“I’ll understand, you know,” she said at last, not looking at Mac but up to the glimpse of stars in the dark sky, “if you hate me.” 

Mac sighed.  “I don’t,” he told her, his voice low and rough.  “Fergus told me the circumstances, explained how the decision was forced on you.  I know it was a terrible choice to make for someone else.”  His voice faded into silence.

“What choice would you have made?” Gabi finally whispered the question that had been burning a hole through her soul for the past long weeks.

Mac was silent long enough that Gabi thought he wasn’t going to answer. Knowing that was answer enough, she prepared to stand when he put a hand on her arm.  She instinctively held out her other hand towards the darkness where Charlie prowled, forestalling any interference.

“Sorry,” Mac grunted, taking his hand from her and holding it up where Charlie could see it.  “Honestly, I don’t know, Gabi,” he said at last, turning to her and catching her gaze. “As I said, it’s a terrible choice.  For many it would be easy to choose life, even of a vastly different sort, but for me…” He trailed off. 

“I know,” Gabi said simply.  She’d known he was mourning his lost Vampire lover, and understood that he felt they had a chance of reuniting on the next plane, in another life.  She’d known that letting him go might’ve been what he truly wanted.

“But the human spirit is a strangely determined thing,” he continued.  “I think that perhaps, faced with my own mortality, the will to live would’ve overpowered my grief.  We’ll never know, Gabi, and it doesn’t matter.  What matters now is what always mattered—getting on with life and making the best of what I have.”

“It’s going to take some adjustments,” Gabi warned.

“I have a few insights that most recently Turned never had,” he answered.  “I’m a little better prepared than most, I think.”  And finally he truly smiled, a sad but heartfelt smile that made Gabi’s eyes sting and a little of the weight in her chest ease, and she could breathe easier for the first time since that dreaded night and the choice she’d been forced to make.

Half an hour later, when Gabi walked into Julius’s office, she knew instantly that something major was up.  She’d shut down her connection with Julius while she spent time with Mac, and now she wished she hadn’t.  Benedict, the centuries-old Princep who looked disturbingly like an androgynously beautiful, blond, teenage boy, was lazing nonchalantly in a chaise longue near the window while Alexander was leaning against one of the floor-to-ceiling, solid-mahogany bookcases, looking unusually pensive.  Quentin and Tabari, two of Julius’s personal guards, were stationed on either side of the door, alert and fully attentive.  And when Fergus, Nathan and Liam appeared behind her and followed her into the office, she knew this wasn’t just a meeting, but something more akin to a war council.