First Born (32 page)

He switched on his small Mag flashlight as his Timberland boots crunched on the gravel road. Night creatures scurried through the foliage on both sides of him. An owl hooted in the distance. It was a muggy eighty-degree night. Sweat ran down the sides of his face. He’d take city noise to this woodsy quietness any day. Drawing his gun, Caldwell slowly made his way to the two driveways. There was no indication which one was 349, but he followed his instincts, heading left.

The house wasn’t visible from the road. He headed up the gravel driveway without the help of his light. Covered in pine needles, the side of the driveway offered quieter terrain. Three hundred feet in, he got his first view of the A-frame cedar cabin. To the side was a garage fronted by an old jeep Wrangler. Gun drawn, he approached the side of the cabin. Lights were on upstairs and down.

Caldwell stood still for several minutes while he scanned the upstairs, then the downstairs, detecting no movement. No prosaic household noise broke the silence of the night as he crept closer. He crouched beneath the window. The sharp cedar scent mixed with pine, and he barely stifled a sneeze. Caldwell couldn’t find anything to stand on. He’d have to go around back or walk right up on the front porch to peer inside.

Hugging the foundation of the cabin, Caldwell made his way to the backyard. Light spilled from sliding glass doors on to the deck, revealing a hot tub. He slowly made his way up each step until his head cleared the top of the banister. Overhead track lighting revealed the great room and kitchen of a cozy cabin. The main floor appeared unoccupied. So much for a hideout. The damn place was a fish bowl. For the hell of it, he tried the back door before the front door and windows. He flipped over the plaque by the front door. “The Quinns.”

Caldwell returned to the rear deck, settling into a dark corner with his back against the hot tub. It provided the perfect vantage point for seeing anyone who came into the great room or kitchen. It was 10:00 p.m. Surely they hadn’t gone to sleep yet. As he listened and waited, he thought back to the day he had walked into Larry Jones’s house to discover Lily Moore as a Shih Tzu. His thoughts drifted to her face at the Liu property after she had been beaten and shot. Seth Moore popped into his head, causing him to grit his teeth. His stitches itched under his solid black cap.

He was used to stakeouts. Hunkering down, he prepared to wait until the wee hours of the morning.

* * *

“This is a very bad idea. This is the worst plan you’ve ever had. This ranks up there with your ‘let’s put a roman candle in dad’s grill’ scheme.”

Lily rolled her eyes.

“Just so you know that membrane comes across your eyes when you do that,” Seth said.

She stopped. The avian eyes disturbed her. In all her shapeshifting forms, she had a third eyelid.

“When it comes to this guy, you’re not rational. Just because he didn’t shoot you once, doesn’t mean he won’t shoot you, given a second chance,” Seth said.

“You make a valid point. Let’s send you in. You’re the one that gave the poor man a concussion and made him the laughing stock of his department. I’m up for some entertainment. Go on kitty. See if he’s a cat lover.”

They sat twenty feet up in a pine tree where they had watched Detective Simms’s surveillance of the cabin. Thankfully, Lily’s animal instincts had overridden her human fear of heights. She could fly and jump from high places without a problem now.

It was just after midnight. Caldwell Simms had been propped against the hot tub waiting on them for over two hours. Seth thought they should run because he assumed that Simms wanted to “put a cap in his ass.” Lily argued Detective Simms was there to help them. Why else would he be there without back-up?

Seth was convinced he was up to some nefarious act, possibly one in conjunction with the masked Watcher. Neither of them could be sure, but Lily was not running or hiding any more. She wanted it all to be over. In her mind, she flirted with the idea that her trip the previous night may have been the impetus for this visit. No way in hell was she telling Seth that she teleported to Atlanta.

“Again, Lily. How did he find us? And, if he’s a good guy, why the hell is he sneaking around with his gun in the dark?”

“Zzzzzzzzzzzz.” With their heightened senses, they heard Detective Simms’s snores. They looked at each other.

“Since when do bad guys fall asleep on a stakeout?” Lily asked. “Evil people are too crazy to sleep. Now an overworked, underpaid civil servant would be more likely to succumb in this weather and at this time of night.”

“This isn’t going to work.” Seth started to move toward their backpacks, which hung from a nearby branch. Lily glared at him. He knew she was stronger than he was otherwise he would have already tackled her.

“You need to trust me.” Before he could argue, she grabbed her backpack and flew down to the ground, landing in a crouch. She had Mr. Quinn’s Glock 36 in the back of her pink cut-off sweatpants. She felt the warm breeze on her bare chest. Sprouting wings had shredded her tank top, but she managed to keep her bottoms on so she considered this progress. She would have needed to transform fully to Bird Light for the soft down to cover her body.

“Not looking,” Seth hissed from his perch.

She grabbed the backpack while retracting her wings. After throwing another tank top over her head, she took off running before Seth tried to catch her.

Her plan was for him to stay in the trees since his presence could be incendiary. She leapt over the railing to land precisely in front of the sleeping detective. She was shocked to find his eyes open, gun drawn. That’s when she jumped on his lap in a panicked bird state, pinning his arms to the hot tub with her claws. The gunshot exploded in her ear.

The loud report had her ears ringing. Simms had rolled his hips and started to flip her off his lap when the gun discharged. Lily’s head throbbed where she had bashed it on the hot tub.

Feathers rained down, coming to rest on every wet surface. Detective Simms was on his side, her legs wrapped around his waist. They stared into each other’s eyes. Everything was in slow motion. His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying to her.

The hot tub gushed water all over the deck. Her left hip hurt where he had slammed her down. Her hearing returned suddenly.

“You bird brain! Mary Mother of...Lily. What did you do?” Seth stood on the railing. His now dyed black hair stood completely on end. Lily watched as his eyes followed the flowing water. She knew his feline side didn’t like getting his feet wet.

Her cheek rested against the side of the hot tub. Detective Simms slouched low, the top of his head touching the fiberglass.

“Lily?” Simms asked.

Looking down, she noted that she was naked from the waist up and there was blood in the water.

Seth pulled his shirt off in order to cover her. Then he ran inside to turn on the back floodlights. He returned within three seconds.

“Who’s hurt?” Seth leaned over them. Simms glared up at him.

“I don’t think you’re helping, Seth. Go inside.” She brought her right arm up to keep the shirt to her chest while unhooking her leg from the detective’s waist.

Seth backed up two feet and fretted. “I told you that guns are bad!” He must have been reliving the night he found her in Larry’s backyard.

Simms looked green. Lily feared he was going into shock. She didn’t know if it was from fear or physical pain. Seth had told her when she got mad her eyes could make a grown man piss himself. With Seth raving in the background, the detective turned to look at her.

She gazed back at him. “Are you hurt?” She noticed the wound at his temple had re-opened and oozed.

He shifted, then winced. Simms looked down. Despite his black pants, Lily could see the blood in the dark. The hot tub wasn’t the only victim. She was terrified.

“Never, ever listening to you...we are so fu...” Seth rambled.

“Shut up, Seth!” Simms yelled.

Lily and Seth both froze.

Seth’s mouth hung open.

Lily looked at him. “Towels, now, hurry.” While Seth ran inside, she sat up and pulled his shirt over her head. When she turned back, Simms had drawn his gun.

Why didn’t I listen to my brother?
Her weapon had slid further into her underwear when she was wrestling the officer and now it felt like she had a load weighing down the back of her drawers.

Her eyes watered. She gulped for air and hiccupped. “Please don’t.”

Simms looked at her, then at his hand. She noticed it was trembling. His face showed surprise. Of course it did. He just had some winged demon woman jump him. Shit she would have shot her own mutant ass. He raised his left hand to grip the gun tighter. She shut her eyes and held her breath. She wasn’t some fierce guardian; she was a chicken. Her impulsiveness was finally going to be her undoing.

There was a click.

“I have no idea why I’m trusting you,” Simms said. She opened her eyes to see that he had engaged the safety and no longer had the gun pointed at her.

That’s when she lunged at him.

She hugged his chest and cried, overwhelmed with relief.

“Thank you,” she gushed.

He awkwardly patted her back.

“I didn’t recognize you. You weren’t a, uh, dog.”

“Sorry, I can’t imagine what you thought was coming at you!” Lily looked down at his hip. “We need to get you off this wet deck.”

Seth burst through the door with blankets as well as every piece of linen from the Quinn storage closet. He came to an abrupt stop when he saw her hugging the detective’s neck.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Lily. Get off the man already. Isn’t it bad enough you shot him?”

“I didn’t shoot him. He shot himself,” she insisted.

“She tackled me. My gun was in my hand. Thankfully, I didn’t hit her. The bullet just grazed my hip.” He apparently was not happy with her version of the story.

“You should have shot her,” Seth said. “Seriously, Lily, you don’t just jump someone!” He completely missed the irony of his statement, forgetting he had jumped Simms in the interrogation room barely a week ago.

“I was trying to be quiet about it, but he woke up!” She stood.

“You’re as stealthy as a bunch of drunken frat boys.” Seth said.

Now toe to toe, they stared at each other. Simms gasped. Lily stepped away from her annoying brother, breathed, and retracted her claws.

“Let’s get him inside,” Seth said.

Without thinking, she reached down and scooped him up in her arms. She felt his body tense. Seth did his funny cat giggle. Lily blushed from her own strength. She didn’t dare look at the officer. She didn’t want to see his face that surely would confirm what he really thought about her.

She plopped him on the counter top, near the kitchen sink.

“Seth, get the first aid kit,” she ordered. He dashed out the door to grab the backpack where she had dropped it on the wet deck.

The detective’s pants smelled burnt where the bullet charred through them. She grabbed the hole to rip his pant leg open further. She did the same with his black boxer briefs. Then she grabbed his black shirt and lifted it up to inspect his stomach and chest to look for more wounds. Seth returned in time to give her a dirty look. She just shrugged.
What? I couldn’t leave him in the wet shirt.
She accepted a towel from him to apply direct pressure to Simms’s wound. The detective attempted to take care of things himself, but she wouldn’t let him. He was all business as he gave them instructions in cleaning wounds. Seth kept eyeing her. So what if she was relishing her role as medic.

“Lily. Don’t you think he needs to go to the hos-pi-tal?” Seth asked, drawing out the word like she was touched in the head.

She stopped her triage and looked at him. This hadn’t occurred to her. She looked to Detective Simms. “Um. Seth can drive you to the hospital, but only if you promise not to tell anyone where we are.”

Seth rolled his eyes. “Don’t be stupid. Of course, he’s going to call someone. He’s a cop.” Simms remained eerily quiet.

Lily looked down at his wound.
My God, what have I done?
Her eyes began to water.

“I really think I’ll be okay. It just grazed me,” he said.

Lily looked like she was going to hug his neck. He gave her a warning look.

“You need some ice,” he said.

“Seth, get him some ice.”

“I meant for
your
head.”

She looked into his slate blue eyes, confused.

“Sorry about the bump on your head,” he said.

“Well it’s better than a bullet,” she laughed.

He looked at her. This was the closest she had ever been to him except for when she was at Larry’s. He licked his lips. She closed her mouth before she drooled. He gave her a tight-lipped smile, no teeth. She noticed he was shaking and realized he had to be in a lot of pain, but he still didn’t go for his gun. It rested next to him on the counter, safety engaged.

After they dressed his wounds, Seth gave him a spare pair of sweatpants and white t-shirt. Upstairs, Lily changed out of her wet clothes into a tank top and shorts. When she came back, Simms was on the couch with a blanket draped over him. As she was getting him some ginger ale, Seth grabbed her arm. “What are we going to do now?”

“I don’t know,” she rasped.

“Great planning,” he said. His eyes travelled to her injured head. “Does it hurt badly?”

“Not awful, but I’ve got the crucible. Detective Simms doesn’t.” Seth let go of her arm. “The Vicadin and Extra Strength Tylenol are upstairs,” she suggested.

He sighed as he went to retrieve them. Simms said no to the Vicadin even though she could tell he was tired and in pain.

“I need you both to sit down,” he said. Lily sat down at his feet. Seth sat in the rocking chair directly across from them. Simms sat up straighter as if to appear stronger and more authoritative, “I expect your full cooperation from here on out.”

Seth scowled. She smiled.

“I want an honest, direct answer,” he ordered.

Seth squirmed in his chair. Lily forgot to breathe.

“What
are
you?”