The fall of kings, p.17
The Fall of Kings, page 17
“What’s going on?” Emma pulled on Sevystian’s arm. He wouldn’t budge. Finally, Emma squeezed between Sev and the door getting her first look at the scene inside.
A woman was curled with her greasy uneven hair into Aaron’s lap like a frightened animal. A potent smell of grime and body odor wafted off of her. The dim light of the car almost fooled Emma into thinking it was Josie, but that was impossible.
“Aaron?” Emma asked, her confusion compounding as she looked on. The similarities between Josie and this woman didn’t fade in the wake of Emma’s continued inspection. The woman jerked around to face Emma and the shaky, weak limbed feeling she had been fighting since leaving the Order’s compound returned. Sevystian’s warm hand found the middle of Emma’s back, steadying her against the tremors of shock running through her limbs. There in the back seat, gaunt and dirty was Jocelyn Davis, Aaron’s sister. The closest thing Emma had ever had to a sister of her own, and the first person whose funeral she had ever attended.
“Josie?” Emma pulled away from Sevystian’s touch ready to launch herself into the back seat of the SUV.
“No, no, no,” Jocelyn mewled, flinching away from Emma, digging her face into Aaron’s chest. “No, no, no.”
“Josie?” Emma watched the woman peek out from under her lank hair, those melted chocolate eyes bright with … fear wasn’t the right word. “It’s alright I’m not going to hurt you.”
Emma flitted her eyes to Aaron who gave her a small shake of his head. Emma had to count to ten before she could make herself step away from the back seat. How was this fucking possible?
“Start talking,” Emma rounded on Buchannan, hoping her voice had that ineffable quality afforded to every great disciplinarian.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Buchannan threw his hands up immediately, placating any future inquests. “One minute we’re casing a couple of shifty warehouse guards, the next we’re cleaning up after her.”
Emma didn’t much appreciate the way Buchannan shrugged at Josie, like she was a burden and not a miracle.
“What warehouse?” Vlad’s swarthy baritone boomed from behind her.
Emma jerked; she had very nearly forgotten that Vlad was standing behind her.
“We didn’t exactly stop to chat, but we did you one better,” Buchannan answered Vlad with smug satisfaction, calling over his shoulder to Fields who was opening the back of the SUV. “Wanna show the boss what we brought home for him?”
“You are particularly irritating at the moment,” Field’s proper cut glass accent was sanding the rougher edges of his annoyance smooth. “You could help. There are two of them.”
Her attention back inside the SUV, Emma mouthed “two?” at Aaron who responded with an eye roll. He wasn’t focused on anyone or anything other than his sister. Outside the car there was a distinct shift in focus. Everything that wasn’t Aaron and Josie became background noise, elevator music to the scene in front of her. A million thoughts ran through Emma’s head, too many to make out one cogent idea. They blended together into a grey mass of regret and relief and every other uneasy feeling she had ever had.
“How?” It seemed to be the only question worth asking.
“I don’t know,” Aaron answered her with that same soft voice he had used before. “Emma… she’s… she’s.”
Aaron wiped his brow as if he could iron out the lines furrowing into his skin.
“She’s what?” Emma took a step into the shadow of the back seat, a step too close.
Josie lunged out of the car, her face twisted into a snarl, her fangs long and thin like she was. It was such a surprise that Emma didn’t even step out of the way, didn’t have the presence of mind to flinch. She didn’t have to, Sevystian had Josie by the throat a hair’s breadth away from Emma’s face, wisps of air hitting her cheeks as Josie hissed.
Aaron roared, following his sister out of the vehicle, diving over Josie cleanly, grabbing Sevystian by the collar. They fell back in a heap of muscle and teeth, Sevystian’s grip on Josie’s neck pulling her along with them. Emma knew better than to interfere. She looked up for some assistance from someone less mortally challenged than herself to find the others occupied at the rear of the vehicle.
“Fuck,” Emma cursed at the squabble. The memory of what Sev and Simon had done to each other still fresh in her mind. With a glance over at the otherwise occupied vampires, Emma weighed her chances of separating them without losing an inordinate amount of blood. Statistics had not been her strongest suit, but even she wasn’t going to bet on those odds.
“Don’t fucking touch her!” Aaron screamed his voice as raw as it had been before he left that afternoon.
Aaron slammed his fist into Sevystian’s face hard enough that he should have been spitting teeth. Instead, he grinned the barest hint of blood in his mouth. Sev let go of Josie, only to grab Aaron by his shirt front and throw him into the ground, following after him to continue the brawl. He slipped out of his sport coat, tossing it onto the trunk of a nearby sedan. That couldn’t be a good thing.
“Vlad!” Emma shouted over the sound of grunting and fists hitting flesh. “Vlad!”
Everything about this situation made Emma want to scream. They were adults for crying out loud. Hell, Sevystian was more than an adult by a few centuries.
Vlad and Buchannan rounded the back of the vehicle, the younger looking like he was ring side at some MMA pay-per-view event. Vlad’s scowl was set so deeply in the creases of his face that he looked to be made of stone.
“Enough!” He shouted over the din of grunts and colliding flesh.
Josie recoiled into the corner near the garage’s stairwell, but the other two continued to pummel one another. Vlad’s disapproving growl joined the cacophony of noises echoing through the grey space and he motioned to Buchannan, who rolled his eyes good naturedly before joining the fray. They struggled with Aaron and Sevystian, barreling towards Emma in a tangle of limbs and fangs. The running board for the SUV caught her in the back of the calf as Emma scuttled backwards to avoid being swept up in the fight.
Now Emma was trapped between the fight and the SUV’s open door. Not wanting to test the boundaries of her very human mortality, Emma turned to the vehicle hoisting herself halfway into the cab, coming nose to nose with a man in blood-stained uniform with a Caldwell Inc. on the breast pocket.
The shock of it stunned her, locking up her muscles and sending a crackling white noise to the portion of her brain that should have been telling her to scream. He blinked at her and she blinked back, the situation heavy with potential. It was one second too long.
His hand clamped under Emma’s chin so tight she bit her tongue, blood flooding her mouth. He adjusted his grip, sliding his hand down just enough to flex around Emma’s throat. His fingers nearly reached all the way around and Emma had the unsettling thought that he wouldn’t even have to use both hands to strangle her.
She clawed at his hand, making enough space for herself to turn around. A scream tore out of her as she sunk her nails into the man’s hand and wrist. She dove forward hoping to get loose. He faltered for a second, before his fingers found the soft flesh just under Emma’s jaw and wrenched her head back, exposing her throat. The seat rest dug into her back as he dragged her further into the backseat.
“You do not want to do that,” Vlad’s low voice hissed, echoing off the concrete walls.
“Don’t come any closer, or I’ll do it,” the man growled, jamming the point of a pen into Emma’s temple. Vlad stopped moving, throwing his hands up in surrender. “That goes for you too.”
Aaron and Sevystian stopped moving, sitting as statues watching this new aggressor.
“Don’t fucking move. I mean it, I’ll stab her eye out!” The man was shouting and pulling Emma’s head back in jerky nervous movements. “I’ll do it!”
Emma was already seeing stars, and she might be a weak human, but so was he. Outside of the car she heard movement and the man flinched, forcing the pen so close to her eye she could see its shiny tip. This wasn’t happening, Emma wasn’t going to let this happen.
Bracing her feet along the running-board and holding onto the seat belt with her right hand, she pushed herself up and grabbed the hand he was threatening to stab her with. He struggled to overpower her, but Emma was ready. As the man adjusted his grip on the pen it gave her just enough space between her eye and the sharp point to make her move. Emma twisted her chin towards the hand he was holding her with and bit into the pad of his thumb. She kept biting until she felt the pop of his skin give way and the metallic tang of blood hit her tongue. His grip on her face released. Throwing her head backwards, Emma grunted in pain as her skull connected with his nose and she heard the tell-tale crunch of a broken bone. Both of his hands went to his face and Emma scrambled out of his grasp entirely. Then there was a click, the sound of the door opening on the other side of the SUV and he was ripped backwards out of the vehicle. Emma went limp with relief, letting her body slither out of the seat into a heap on the ground.
Then Vlad was there, cupping her face in his hands, checking her eyes and temple, examining her with a hiss of distaste. His face was colder than she had ever seen it. He pulled away, snarling, and leaped over the SUV with a single animalistic pounce. God help whoever had the misfortune of being on the other side.
“Emma?” Aaron’s face replaced Vlad’s; his voice still raw but less violent by half. “Emma are you alright? Emma?”
“I’m fine.” Emma patted Aaron’s shoulder gently, her own voice a little gritty. “I’m fine.”
She could feel his fingers running over her features, light as feathers until they reached her temple.
“You’re… you’re bleeding.” Aaron swallowed hard, the slight bump of his Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down. “You’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine, heads bleed a lot.” She swallowed too, very aware that not six hours ago he had been mostly a blood thirsty monster.
Aaron brought her face to his, pressing his forehead to hers in a gesture that he had done a million times over the years. The touch lingered for a moment too long. Sliding his nose to her bleeding temple with a labored sigh. The warmth of his breath tickled her cheek, quickly replaced by the moist heat of Aaron’s tongue. Emma tried to push him off, her arms braced against his shoulders, as the soft stripe of his tongue licked at her wound. She shoved him again with a grunt and he let her push him off, a look of horror on his face.
“Emma.” He wiped at his mouth in shock, his eyes round as plates. “Shit, I’m so sorry.”
“Stop… Stop it.” Emma wiped at her head. “I know you can’t help it right now. Just don’t.”
She held her hand up, keeping Aaron at bay. Noise coming from the other side of the car distracted them all from the awkwardness that had sprung up. The fleshy thuds of someone pounding the crap out of someone else brought them all back to the present, where Vlad was almost certainly beating a man to death.
“Vlad!” Buchannan’s yells spurred Emma into motion.
She pulled herself back to her feet. Fumbling around the front of the car. On the other side, Vlad was holding the man who had attacked her by his throat. He looked so small like this, in his dark blue uniform and frazzled man-bun. His face began to turn a deep red as he kicked and pointed his toes, trying to find purchase on the ground that was inches below his feet. Fear radiated off of him in every whimper. Emma tried not to let that make her smile. She didn’t want to be the type of person who got off to retaliation.
“We need to interrogate him.” Buchannan had a hand on Vlad’s arm, a dangerous move. She wasn’t sure she would have risked it herself, not for that guy anyway.
“There will be others.” Vlad’s English sounded clunky and distended, curling out of his mouth heavily accented and impeded by his fangs. “What is one amongst their number?”
“Do you really want to prove them right?” Buchannan didn’t sound afraid, though Emma thought he should have. If Vlad were looking at her the way he was staring through Buchannan, she would be getting the hell out of Dodge. “This is the second Order member behind Melissa who has broken a thrall. Even Kadir is barely keeping the kid under. You don’t want to know what kind of drugs can let humans kick a thrall like that?”
“Fine.” Vlad let go of the man and Buchannan barely caught him before he hit the ground, piss darkening the leg of his uniform.
“Sleep,” Buchannan’s thrall echoed through the garage with resounding effort, nearly knocking Emma over.
The other shoe dropped like a lead weight in Emma’s heart. It had been Buchannan. He had been the one who had thralled her. Her first night. She had been about to leave, about to save them all the trouble of her mother, of the Order, and Buchannan had stopped her. Buchannan had taken the choice away from her. His voice continued echoing in her head, bouncing back and forth mocking her vulnerability. Emma felt dizzy with it. She turned away unable to look at Buchannan a second longer. She took a single step before she had to brace herself against the SUV and vomit on her shoes.
Gentle hands ran across her shoulders and the smell of tobacco leaves and sandalwood surrounded her. Sev stood quietly, his hand coming to rest between her shoulder blades, trying to comfort her. She didn’t want to be touched right now. She didn’t want their concern confusing the thoughts racing through her head. As the heaves abated, the elevator pinged. Emma spit the last of the vomit out of her mouth and straightened up in time to meet Kadir’s pale yellow eyes as the doors opened.
Emma didn’t give the dead body lying on the ground behind the black SUV a second glance. She simply made her way to the elevator where Kadir waited, keeping the doors from shutting.
“You lied,” Emma said stepping into the elevator with a sigh of exhaustion.
“I did not lie. You did not ask the right question.” Kadir pulled his arm back, sharing a pointed look with Vlad as the door shut.
“It’s the same difference.” Emma wiped the blood from her temple with the back of her hand.
“Perhaps.” Kadir studied her, his eyes taking in her generally bedraggled condition and the vomit on her shoes.
“You’re fucking infuriating you know that?” She leaned against the side of the elevator catching a glimpse of her face in the warped reflection of the elevator doors. God, she needed a shower, and a change of clothes.
“I’ve been called worse.” Their eyes met in the reflection; his scarred brow cocked.
“Did you deserve those too?” Emma snapped at him.
A grin spread across his face, wicked and sharp.
“And a great deal more.” Kadir mirrored her stance, leaning against the opposite wall of the elevator. “You need a bath.”
“Fuck you.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Despite his leg Simon had opted to take the stairs. A gust of wind blew the rain into the open stairwell. The storm had started its slow build sometime between the end of Simon’s conversation with the Captain and Simon’s decision to walk down. Cold fat drops of water pelted his face, plastering his shirt to his body. It reminded him that he needed a shower, a long one. He was overdue. On the landing between the first and second floor he stopped, looking at the people still giving their statements.
Anger was running through him, a flooded river ready to drown and destroy. This was what Ava was talking about when she had explained intention magic. An emotion so pure in its existence, it felt alive. Melissa was probably going to get away with this, everything in his history with her said she would, and it made him furious. It also made him understand magic, at least the kind that Melissa had planted in Aaron’s gut with a piece of glass. The rain was getting heavier, and his bad leg protested.
So, he leaned his back against the metal railing and let the cold rain beat against his back. Simon took a long breath and then another, until the grease mottle grey concrete of the parking garage disappeared. Simon was somewhere else, somewhere that smelled of burning sage and lavender, when heavy footsteps interrupted him.
They took the stairs up to Simon quickly, a jostle of leather and metal clunking along. Simon didn’t have to open his eyes to know it was Duncan. His after-shave announced him before the man had a chance to open his mouth; Old Spice Original. Simon didn’t bother opening his eyes to confirm.
“McGreggor,” Duncan called, an unwarranted chumminess in his tone. “We wearing you out? Not too used to the field anymore, huh?”
Simon opened his eyes and watched Duncan take the last two steps at once. Simon wasn’t sure if the sergeant was trying to show off or if his deception was filling him with adrenaline he needed to burn through. Simon didn’t much care.
“Sergeant,” he nodded, not straightening up.
“What?” Duncan postured, his arms wide, his expression the kind that blows off informed consent. “You can’t tell me you’re mad this is all over. Bet you were hoping they’d let you out of your pen for a little longer.”
“Actually, Munroe requested I be temporarily reassigned to the unified task force.” Simon watched with a malicious little spark of glee as Duncan’s face fell for a split second. “You didn’t think there wouldn’t be a full investigation, did you? I mean they’ve already got a full crime scene unit up there now. You can bet they’ll push the autopsy to the top of the list.”
“That’s… That’s great.” Duncan moved his hands to his hips and Simon recognized it for what it was, a power stance. “Guess I get to see what makes you the darling of the Texas Rangers, after all. Shit!”
Duncan danced back two steps and almost tripped backwards down the stairs as another gust of wind blew more rain onto the landing. Simon relaxed into the storm. Lightning shot jagged and raw across the skyline making the yellow lights of the building flicker in protest, followed by a bursting trumpet of thunder. It pulled Simon out of his body and suddenly he felt as if he were watching himself watch Duncan, pressing mute on his emotions, the anger and the hate trapped in the body he no longer inhabited.
