I took my seat in the guest chair closest to the door and waited for him to join me. It took a few moments, but when he did he brought a fresh pot of coffee and a matching pair of large, ceramic mugs.
“I figured this might take a while.” He spoke with a dry humor that I’d begun to appreciate the longer I knew him.
“Your confessions are always … interesting.”
I supposed that was one way of looking at it. Sort of like that old curse about living in interesting times. He poured coffee for each of us, setting a mug on a coaster in front of my seat before settling comfortably in behind the desk. “So, talk to me.”
I talked. He winced, visibly, when I told him about Bryan, and about Miles. His eyes widened as I related that Dylan lived, but was fully evil.
I steeled myself and waited for the judgment I just knew would come when he heard that I planned to be in on whatever happened tomorrow.
He sighed. “It’s a hard life you live, Mary Kathleen.”
“Yes. It is.”
“I’ve come to know you fairly well over these past several months. You and Tom both. I’ve listened to your confession some few times, and I’ve learned a thing or two about you.”
I winced, sure I was in for it now.
“And I know now that you do not enjoy this. You loathe the violence; hate the attention. Given your choice you would much rather stay at home with your husband and your cat, eating pasties and minding your own business.”
“Amen!”
“But that’s not an option, is it?”
“No. It isn’t. Father, Dylan is in charge of the hive now. He’s outright told me he plans to kill everyone I love and destroy everything I care about. No matter if they’ve harmed him directly. Then he intends to murder me. Do you really expect me to sit by and let him?”
“No. Nor do I consider it a sin for you to protect yourself and those you love.”
I blinked. Okay, this was new. When it had been Amanda—
He gave me an impatient look, as though I was being particularly dense. Maybe I was. “You will remember, the last time you were being threatened you didn’t simply act to protect those in danger. You were actively seeking out Amanda Shea in a preemptive manner.”
Oh. I hadn’t really thought of it that way.
“There is a difference, you know.”
I supposed there was. But it was a pretty fine line. I started to speak, but he shushed me.
“Kate, I know you well enough now to know that while you may have threatened vengeance for what they did to Bryan in the heat of anger, it isn’t really your style. If you can, you’ll avoid killing. But I also know that there’s a very good chance that you won’t be able to sidestep it this time. The head of the Thrall has effectively declared war on you and yours.”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I’m not stupid. I can accept reality. “Yes. And there’s a very good chance I won’t survive. The creatures he’s created have all the strengths of both the vampires and werewolves. I’m tough, Father, but I’m only human.”
“You sound afraid.”
“I am.” I could admit it here, to him. Outside these walls I’d put on my armored shell, be Kate Reilly “Not Prey”
extraordinaire. But here and now I would admit, to myself and my priest, that I was scared. Not so much that I might die. I’ve faced death enough times now that I’m not as scared of it as I probably should be. But I could lose Tom, one or both of my brothers, Mary or any of my other friends. In fact, if the vampires used their “shock troops” to attack the Conclave tomorrow it would be nothing short of miraculous if I didn’t lose someone I loved. Most of us were pretty damned tough. But the odds weren’t in my favor. I’d come to love one heck of a lot of people, and Dylan had specifically chosen them as targets. “I’m afraid for myself. But more than that, I’m afraid for everyone else. I’m glad Joe’s building neck guards for the cops. It could really make a difference. But ultimately, if Dylan does this, people are going to die. Probably a lot of people. And if I take out Dylan the entire Thrall hive will collapse. All of the hosts, most of the herds will die with him. When Monica died, nearly a hundred and fifty people died with her. Dylan could take down thousands … maybe tens of thousands. I honestly don’t know how many Thrall exist. I don’t want that on my conscience. But I don’t think he’s going to give me a choice.” “I pray that you’re wrong about that.”
“So do I. But if I’m not?”
He touched the cross around my throat with reverence and smiled sadly. “I’ll pray for you, and for those fighting with you.”
“Please do. Because I’m afraid we’re going to need it.”
We talked a little longer, but there wasn’t much more to say. I arranged for a mass in Miles’s honor, talked to Father about the guilt I bore in his death. He offered words of comfort, of absolution. I tried to take them, but it was too soon. The loss was still too fresh.
I left the church shortly thereafter. I’d hoped to find peace there, but I was just as unsettled and restless leaving as I’d been when I first walked through the door.
If I couldn’t escape my guilt, I’d just have to work through it or live with it. In the meantime, life hadn’t come to a stop. There were all sorts of ordinary things that needed to be taken care of.
I started with the insurance claim, stopping by the office to pick up the checks. I was lucky. The claims adjuster was out. All I had to do was sign a few forms and the secretary handed me a pair of checks. She also gave me a brown envelope with the offer from the developer.
I hadn’t checked with Tom yet, but I, personally, was leaning toward selling the property. I’d look at the offer the claims adjuster had taken, but I’d check with some of my own contacts as well. There was a good chance he’d received a legitimate offer. But there are always people looking for a “bargain” by taking advantage of folks who are desperate. Whether or not it is unscrupulous depends on your point of view. They do get the folks they buy from out of a bind in a hurry, but usually at a huge discount. I wasn’t that desperate. I could be a little more choosy. I used the drive-through of the Wheat Ridge branch of my bank to deposit most of the checks. I kept out enough cash to pay back Bryan, and also to buy some of the things I was going to need, not the least of which was new leathers.
The bank branch was at 44th and Wadsworth, just a few minutes away from the biker shop where I’d ordered my boots and had bought my leathers. I needed another set for tomorrow, and the damned things weren’t cheap. At the rate I was going through them I might well be the biker shop’s best customer. Maybe they’d give me a discount for buying in bulk.
Probably not.
I had more errands, lots more. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do them. Depression sucked at me like quicksand. I needed to do something to break myself out of it; needed to remind myself what I was fighting for. On impulse I took the 38th Avenue entrance onto the freeway, driving east toward St. Elizabeth’s. I wanted to see Ruby. More than that, I wanted to see Jacqueline … hold her… remind myself that she was real. I had a daughter. I had a fiancé. There were good things, good people in this world. Things and people worth fighting for—worth dying for if need be. I didn’t want to. God knows I had a lot to live for. But Ruby had chosen Tom and me because we’d protect her baby, “no matter what.” Protect her from exactly the sort of threat Dylan was posing. It didn’t take long to reach the hospital. I parked in the parking garage and made my way through the front doors. There, to the right, was the gift shop, and I stopped in to buy Ruby some flowers. A stuffed wolf caught my eye, and I bought that too.
I carried both with me into the elevator and pressed the button for the floor with the nursery. The bell had rung and the doors were just beginning to close when a manicured male hand slid between the doors, activating the sensor to make them reopen.
The minute I saw who it was I wished I’d been just a little quicker.
Dr. Edgar Simms was an attractive man, well groomed, well spoken, and a world class ass. I’d had dealings with him in the past. I’d done it because it was necessary. But after he suspended Joe, I had little to say to the man. He’d never even thanked me for restoring his daughter to her mind. He’d insisted I’d done it in order to save Bryan, but I’d never heard word one from him afterward.
Today he looked harried and more tired than I’d ever seen him. Oh, he was still handsome. There was no doubt of that. His hair was still perfectly coiffed, his designer suit tailored to fit a tall, slender frame. But there were lines at the corners of those piercing blue eyes that hadn’t been there the last time I’d seen him, and the self-confidence that had bordered on outright arrogance seemed to be missing.
“Good evening, Ms. Reilly,” he greeted me and turned to face the elevator doors. Reaching in front of me he pressed the button for the fourth floor. The doors rolled smoothly closed, giving the two of us complete privacy for the span of a few moments.
“I take it you’re visiting a patient. Would it by any chance be Lewis Carlton?”
“No. Actually, one of my acquaintances had a baby. I thought I’d check in and see how they were doing.”
“Ah.”
The elevator started moving. I was glad. The silence was getting a little bit strained. I mean, at one point he’d been allied with the vampires. As far as I knew he still actively supported them. He’d certainly been quick to throw my brother under the bus when Joe had spoken out against them.
But I, the bane of all vampire kind, had saved his daughter.
Miss Manners and Emily Post just don’t cover this sort of thing.
“So, how is Carlton doing? Or can’t you tell me?”
He reached across me in an abrupt snakelike movement, hitting the emergency stop button. Alarms began to sound almost immediately, and a light came on above the telephone handset attached to the wall just below the button panel.
“What in the hell—”
“Ms. Reilly. We don’t have much time. I was friends with Doug Richards. Carlton is an acquaintance of mine. I know a bit about the Thrall, or thought I did. But I’ve spoken to Carlton since he regained consciousness. If what he’s told me is true, I owe your brother more than an apology. And you are in very real danger.”
I stared at him in shock, completely at a loss as to what to say. I don’t think I would’ve been more surprised if he’d sprouted horns and a tail—maybe less.
“There is no more collective. Only one mind is running the hive now. And it is someone who bears you a personal grudge: your ex-fiancé, Dylan Shea.”
The emergency telephone rang before I could respond, and Doug picked up the receiver. In a job of acting that should have won him an award nomination he cheerfully answered the voice on the other end of the line. “No, we’re absolutely fine. It was just an accident. I tripped and fell against the controls. Oh, good. Just pull out the button? All right then. I’ll do that. Thank-you.”
He hung up the emergency phone, then reached over and pulled out the red button. The alarms silenced immediately, and the elevator began to rise once more.
He spoke quickly, but with startling intensity. “I owe you my daughter’s life, and quite possibly my wife’s sanity. So I’m warning you that something very dangerous is going on. Take a few minutes to talk to Lewis. And be very, very careful.”
The elevator stopped, the doors opened smoothly. He’d stepped out and was gone before I could thank him or even come up with a coherent response.
25
« ^ »
I wandered through the kitchen, opening and closing drawers, looking for the scissors and my knives. I hadn’t slept well at all last night. I knew I needed to get some rest. I just couldn’t manage it. I’d spent the entire night tossing and turning, sending my thoughts out every few minutes to check on the people I loved. I didn’t interrupt them, they were all too busy. I probably could’ve gone to either the convention center or Joe’s house, but I knew I’d only be in the way. So I’d stayed home, fretted, and tried to sleep.
I finally gave up and climbed from my bed just as the sun cleared the horizon. I fixed myself a good healthy breakfast, and forced myself to try and eat it before showering and brushing my teeth. I wandered around the house in a white silk robe that was supposed to go over a negligée, gathering together everything I needed to arm up. First, I set my neck brace, turtleneck, and brand-new biker leathers onto the bed. The boots I’d special ordered had arrived. I’d picked them up with the leathers. I retrieved the box from the closet, setting it onto the floor by the bed. I hoped they’d be comfortable. They’d seemed to fit well enough when I’d tried them on, but you always have to be careful. Sometimes shoes feel good from the start, other times you have to break them in a bit. I was hoping for the former, because I was probably going to be spending a lot of time on my feet today. Enough time that it was tempting to just go ahead and wear running shoes. But there were things to consider besides comfort. It would take a lot more work to hamstring me through steel-reinforced boots. And the high tops would allow me to carry the present I’d bought myself.
Last night, when I’d bought the replacement leathers, I’d picked up a pair of boot knives and sheaths at the biker shop. They were good quality, with wickedly serrated edges. I’d tried them on with the sheaths stuck in the new boots. The fit had been perfect.
Still, I wanted more. Call me crazy, but I wanted as much weaponry on me as I could carry. So I was looking for just the right blade to tuck in my cast. I knew the perfect one, too. It was one of the set of knives Joe had bought me at the same time he’d gotten the towels. Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember where I’d put them. Damn it anyway! They were in a stand. I should have just left them on the counter. I thought I had. I glanced up at the kitchen clock. It showed 9:15. I needed to get moving. Dusty was going to be picking me up at 10:00. The opening addresses weren’t scheduled to start until 11:30, but we’d promised Mary and Brooks we’d get there early and use our psychic gifts to check the place out.
As a last resort I checked the pantry. There they were, center shelf, right at eye level. I sorted through them, picking a blade I’d be able to slide beneath my cast.