She Dies at the End (November Snow #1) (10 page)

They got about a mile down the highway before Willow turned to her and asked, “How bad are you hurt?  Do you need a doctor now or can you make it home?”

“You can take us home.  I think I’m just banged up and bruised, but I can’t really tell how badly.  The pain hasn’t kicked in yet,” she answered, patting her limbs and feeling around for injuries.  Em leaned her head against the window and tried to slow her breathing and her stampeding heart.  She looked back at Pine, who had passed out as soon as she’d gotten him into the car.  “Is he going to be okay?”

“I don’t know.  He needs to make it to morning to be healed and to feed.  If he can last that long, he’ll be fine.”  Willow looked grim.  “If he dies, Lord William had better let me kill Dogwood,” she said fiercely, anger and fear dueling in her voice.  “How could I have missed them?” she asked with dismay.  “Pull my phone out of my pocket,” she directed November, both hands on the wheel as she sped for home, heedless of traffic laws.  “Call ‘boss’ in the speed dial and put it on my shoulder.” 

November did as she was told.  “My lord, we were engaged,” she reported without prologue.  “Three fairies, commanded by Dogwood.   The girl and I are lightly injured.  Pine’s in bad shape.  Two assailants dead.  Dogwood is in the trunk.  ETA about 90 minutes.”  November could hear William cursing on the other end; he then began peppering his knight with questions.  Willow replied, “I don’t know how they found us.  We had no tail on the way out there.  I’m sure of it.  No sign or smell of any fairies out at Inyokern.  We changed our route due to traffic and informed Birch, per instructions.  We called in our plan to stop in Manteca, per instructions.  We should sweep for bugs, everywhere.”

After a pause, she continued, “I failed you.  I should not have been surprised by them.  Of course we looked for hostiles when we got there, before we allowed the human to exit the vehicle.  They hid well.  It was dusk, and our powers were limited.  The gasoline and exhaust covered up their scent.  We’ll go over every detail once we arrive, of course.”  There was another pause as the vampire spoke.  “I agree.  I think the prisoner will be more secure in Oakland than Livermore.  And November doesn’t seem to need immediate medical attention.”  William gave some instructions, to which Willow replied, “Roger that, sir.  Over and out.” 

Willow looked back at November after dropping the phone in the cup holder.  “Who taught you to fight?  Not that you don’t have a lot to learn, but that wasn’t bad for a little human girl.”

November decided to take that as a compliment.  “My mom.  She managed to do one thing right,” she replied with a ghost of a smile.

“What happened in the bathroom?  How did you get away?”  Willow asked, eyes on the road.

“I, um, tricked him into dropping his guard and stabbed him in the eye with my rosary.  He couldn’t seem to get it out.  I tried to run, but he grabbed me and knocked me down.  He was hitting me when light started to pour from his eye, and then I closed my eyes and he was gone.  Then I saw through the door that Pine was in trouble and remembered that case in the trunk.”

“It must be silver.  Your rosary.  I’m surprised William let you in the house with it,” she commented.  “Glad he did, though.”

“I had no idea it was real silver,” November replied.  “If we’d known, my mom would have pawned it ages ago.”  It seemed appropriate somehow, to have her grandmother’s rosary wind up protecting more than just her sanity.

“Must have been a very young fairy, to die from such a small wound,” Willow said, musing.  “I guess they figured he could handle the weak human while the experienced ones killed me and Pine.”  Willow smiled wolfishly at her.  “I guess you showed them.  They underestimated you.”  She paused before adding, “They’re not the only ones.”

They drove in silence for a while, and November’s pain began to set in.  A nasty bump was rising on her head where the fairy had slammed it against the wall, and it hurt to take a deep breath.  A steady ache was settling into her shoulders.  Her jaw throbbed.  Her tongue probed her mouth, tasting blood but finding no missing or loose teeth, which was a relief.  Her forearms were bruising purple where she’d tried to use them to protect her face.  On the whole, though, she was grateful for being lucky enough to escape serious injury.

Pine, on the other hand, drifted in and out of consciousness, moaning occasionally in pain.  She heard nothing from the trunk.  She wondered what Lord William would do with Dogwood.  She suspected it would be rather awful.  She caught herself hoping it would be.

It wasn’t until they hit the Altamont that she began to process what had happened.  She had killed a man – well, a fairy, to be more precise.  She had nearly been kidnapped by the same group of people who murdered her mother. 
You killed someone
, she told herself. 
Then I brained another man with a mace.  You killed a man.  A boy.  I killed a boy.

She began to shake but did her best not to make any noise.  Her fairy companion, however, noticed the change in her breathing.  “Hey, it’s alright.  You did fine.  You did better than fine.  We all got out alive,” said Willow in an unusually soft tone for her.  November nodded but said nothing.  “Is it the shock coming out, or are you starting to feel the injuries?” she asked.

“Both.  I think, um – I think it’s also just realizing that, ah, I seem to have killed someone,” November admitted in a whisper as the tears began to silently fall.  Willow’s unexpected kindness had undone her.

Willow peeked at her.  “You know you were totally justified, right?  It was self-defense, after all.”

“I know,” November replied, drying her tears on the back of her hand.  “I know it wasn’t a crime or immoral or anything.  But still . . . it just feels  . . . I don’t know how to explain it.”

“The first time is hard, even for us,” Willow confided.  “It gets easier.  But you don’t want to let it get too easy.” 

November leaned her head back, feeling a bit better after the tears and the unexpected pep talk from Willow.  She tried to focus on the music once Willow turned the stereo back on.  She just didn’t want to think about anything for awhile.  She found herself checking the mirrors, trying to see if someone was following them.  She couldn’t take any more excitement.  Relief filled her as they finally arrived at the compound she was already starting to think of as home.  How strange her life had become, that a house full of people who could eat her was now her only place of safety.

Willow pulled up to the front door.  Half the household was already waiting outside.  Daniel helped Willow lift Pine from the car and carried him inside.  As soon as November climbed out of the vehicle, Lord William’s hands were on her shoulders and he was examining her for injuries.  Judging from his expression, she looked about as bad as she felt.  “Are you in pain?  We have a doctor inside,” he said.  “He’ll patch you up and in the morning, one of the fairies can heal you.”

“Okay,” she said, wincing as pain shot through her head.  “Sounds like a good plan.  What else happens now?”

“I’ll debrief Willow.  Then we’ll see how useful Dogwood can be,” he said in a dangerous voice.

“If you’re going to want me to do a reading on him, I’d rather do it before any, um . . . unpleasantness occurs with respect to . . . uh . . . his person,” she suggested as euphemistically as she could manage.

“Are you sure you’re up to that?  You’ve been through a lot today already,” he said, but November could sense his eagerness to put her gifts to the test.  The vampire obviously wanted her to examine the prisoner but had been afraid of pushing her too far by asking himself.

November thought a moment.  She was not keen to get near the savage fairy, but she wanted to know who was after her.  “If I can see the doctor and eat first, then yes.  Just, you know, hold off on the torture.”

“Deal.  I’ll send someone out to get whatever you want, brave girl,” he said.

“Pizza.  Salad. Coke, please,” she said, suddenly ravenous.  “Also, can we do this little séance in a room where no one’s been, um . . . harmed?”  She did not want to see twenty years worth of vampire violence just by crossing the room’s threshold.

“As you command,” he replied with a grin.  “The doctor is in your room.”  He turned from her and directed one of his men to take the car down into the garage where they could move the prisoner more easily.

November made her way slowly to her bedroom, taking her time on the stairs as every deep breath felt like a blade in her chest.  In her room, Zinnia was waiting with the doctor.  Her friend jumped up and was about to fling herself into a hug when November warned her off, saying, “Careful, Zin.  I’m a little banged up.”

“Right, of course,” she exclaimed.  “This is Dr. Cedar.”  He rose to shake November’s hand. His eyes were an unnatural shade of electric blue that screamed fairy, but his hair was dyed brown.  “Do you want me to stay?”  Zinnia asked.  November nodded and sat down on the bed for her exam.

He checked her over thoroughly, tsking audibly at the livid bruises that had already formed on the right side of her face.  He listened carefully to her breathing.  “No indication of a rib puncturing the lung, which is very good, but there are definitely fractures.  I’ll need you to take off your shirt so I can tape up your ribs.”

“Zinnia, can you help me?” November asked.  “I don’t think I can lift my arms above my shoulders.”   They wound up having to cut off her shirt, revealing livid bruises across her torso and swelling around her shoulder.  If November hadn’t been in such pain, she’d have been embarrassed about being half-naked in front of this strange doctor.  He shook his head some more, finished his exam, and wrapped her in a copious amount of tape.  Zinnia then helped her into a button-up blouse.

“Take things very easy tonight until dawn when someone can heal you.  The last thing you want is to turn a cracked rib into something more serious.  I’ll leave you some Vicodin for the pain.  Get some food.  Get some rest.  Any shortness of breath, straight to the hospital.  No physical activity, you understand?  And no one is to bite you.”  November nodded and thanked the doctor.  She made a quick trip to the bathroom, avoiding looking at her bruised face, then returned to sit on the bed with her friend.

“All Lord William told us was that you were all attacked but you all survived. What the heck happened?” Zinnia demanded, her eyes full of worry.  November had finished giving her the short version when Ben knocked on the door.

“Special delivery for the fairy slayer,” he said, coming in with a pizza and a take-out bag.  The smell reminded November just how starving she was. 
There’s nothing like a desperate fight for survival to whet the appetite

“Bless you,” she said, reaching for sustenance.  She was glad he seemed to be choosing not to get angry about being sent on such a menial errand.

“I got you a milkshake, too.  That’s what I always wanted when I had a sucktastic day,” Ben said in a rare reference to his human life.  He joined the girls sitting on the bed.

“Thank you, thank you, a thousand times, thank you!” November said with a smile as she took the treat from his hands.  “Ah, chocolate.  You’re a prince among men.”

"I know," he grinned.

She ate while her new friends peppered her with questions.  They demanded to see the killer rosary, so she pulled it out of her pocket.  The two supernatural creatures were careful not to touch it.  “Yep, definitely silver,” judged Zinnia as she held her hand above the crucifix.  “Lucky you had that.”

“Seriously, though,” November replied, finally done eating.  “I’d probably be in the trunk of their car or something right now.  Or worse.”  She put the leftovers in the fridge and concentrated on finishing her milkshake.  A bath and some sleep, and she might actually feel like a human being again.  “I still can’t believe I did those things.  I fought a fairy kidnapper in a gas station bathroom and stabbed him in the eye and killed him.  Me, a person who has to get her nerve up to kill a spider.  And then I whacked another guy with a mace.  A guy who is a centuries-old professional hit man.  I hit him right in the face.”  She looked down at her hands as the reality of her day once again overtook her.

“You don’t feel guilty, do you?” Ben asked.  “They were your enemies and had it coming.”

“No, I don’t.  Maybe that’s the problem.  I feel like I should, but I don’t.”  After a lifetime of seeing death everywhere she looked, her general attitude was that everyone dies and there wasn’t much point in expending a great deal of emotional energy on it.  She knew that made her a freak by human standards. There was one real fear November had about her future after her upcoming death.  She was afraid that if she became a vampire, she would lose whatever empathy she’d managed to retain after her years of seeing far too much suffering and death.  Vampires were bloodthirsty by nature, after all.  They had to learn to view humans as prey.  And, it seemed, they fought with other supernatural creatures rather regularly.  November didn’t want to become a monster. 
Am I a monster already?
she asked herself, not for the first time.

“You did great,” Ben said.  “You really are amazing.”  His eyes no longer had their usual mocking look.  November was rather alarmed by his sudden change in tone.  She was even more alarmed when he scooted closer to her on the bed, reaching his hand towards her face.  Zinnia looked equally concerned.

This awkward moment was mercifully interrupted when Willow knocked on the door and called, “Our lord wants to know if you’re ready to examine the prisoner.”  Ben jerked his hand back as if burned and affected a slightly bored facial expression. 

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