Black bird a nevermore d.., p.12
Black Bird: A Nevermore Duet, page 12
“Oh, I have no relation, ma’am. She brought back an empty beer bottle and I only asked if she needed another.”
“Seems like a rather lengthy conversation for that to be all that was said,” Dahlia purred.
“It wasn’t. She asked—” Tony paused, looking around the table uncomfortably.
“Yes?”
“S-she asked about him. About Kane.” Guilt swept over him. He hated being put in a position like this. Giving information about another member could always result in their execution where Dahlia was concerned. The crime often didn’t matter. They were as replaceable as trash bags, anyhow.
“Asked what, exactly?”
Tony swallowed hard. “I think she was interested in him. Nothing more than that.”
“And what was your response?”
Another pause. “I only told her he was the quiet type. Likes to be left alone and prefers it to stay that way. She told me that she was on her way out, and she didn’t order another drink. I saw her leave right after that.” He glanced back up at the paused image of that pretty girl standing across from him at the bar. His eyes lingered on her face. “Did she die?” he asked, sadly.
“Would it matter if she did?” Dahlia leaned forward.
“I suppose not … but she was a kind person.”
“How would you know what kind of person she was if this was your first encounter?” She continued to stare at him, along with all the other council members.
“With all due respect, ma’am … I’ve been doing this for a very long time. I see a lot of faces. Meet a lot of people. Humans and immortals alike. Even before I was part of this coven, I’ve had a way of reading others. Comes with the job, I suppose. She was a good one. Not like the crazy cases we sometimes get in the tavern. It’s a shame.”
She huffed a laugh through her nose. “You seem to be in touch with a bit of that humanity that Athan has. I envy that about you.” He wasn’t sure how to respond to that statement. “Rest assured, pet. She’s alive.” Tony raised his eyes to meet hers. “That’s one of the other reasons I wanted to question you about her.”
“I’m not sure how much else I could offer you, mi’lady.”
“Well …” she started, turning back to look up to the screen. “How many attacks have you remembered in the time since you’ve become a vampire that one of our bodies was still alive and going about their everyday lives … without being turned?” She returned her attention to him, and he knotted his brows.
“None,” he breathed, stunned by her admission.
“None … exactly.” She smiled and her platinum locks drooped over her slender shoulder, her lace black collar a stark contrast. “If she comes back, can I trust you to inform me about it … and any conversation that you have with her, or the company she keeps?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. You can go. Thank you for your honesty.” She waved a hand and the stocky male by the door opened it to let him out. Tony had almost reached it before she called his name. He stopped, turning to face her. “I do enjoy your singing. Perhaps we can work out some sort of arrangement for you to express that talent on the slower evenings?”
“I’d like that, mi’lady … thank you.” He offered her a half-smile. She nodded in dismissal, and he felt the weight of the door swish shut as he stepped back into the hallway. Something twisted deep in his hollow gut as he walked heavy-footed back to the main chamber of the tavern.
What had he done?
It was seemingly a meaningless interrogation. One he knew very little about. He assured himself that he shouldn’t care. That it wasn’t his business and if he valued staying alive—however alive they were—he should stay out of it. But could he even do that now? He silently prayed that the pretty girl that had lived through that attack … the one who continued to live as a human somehow, didn’t return to this place. If there was any reason for Dahlia to be scoping her out, then she had some sort of agenda. He didn’t want to think of what that girl may be used for. In all the years that he’d spent in the Black Bird coven … for the first time, Tony wished he wasn’t part of it.
“What exactly would you have done, dude? Like, if he hadn’t stopped you?” Wren asked as Sarah laid her head back in her lap, picking at her black nail polish. “Years ago, I would have never even expected you to hop onto the back of some stranger’s motorcycle, let alone get cozy with one in your bathroom.” She could see her reflection in Wren’s black-rimmed glasses as she peered over her, leaning against the headboard of Sarah’s bed in her pajamas and snacking on red licorice.
“I don’t know what I was thinking. That seems to be the trend right now.” Sarah sighed, dangling her foot over the edge of the bed and raising her opposite knee. “But if he hadn’t stopped me, I might have kissed him … that’s just the way I felt right then.”
“Look, I’m not saying I could blame you. The dude is as fine as summer wine, but—Sarah, this isn’t you. None of this is you. And you’re engaged.”
“I know all of that. And since when do you care? You hate Brent.”
Wren bit off another piece of the thick, red stick of cherry candy. “That’s an understatement. But the fact still remains, friend. I think we need to talk about it.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Sarah dropped her hands down to rest over her midsection and they both grew quiet as she spiraled into her thoughts. The detective hadn’t seemed inclined to stop himself from leaning in close to her neck. That seemed intimate enough without him then breathing on it, trying to ease the sting of the rubbing alcohol she’d foolishly dabbed on the stitches. It hadn’t been until she’d reached up to touch that sensuous mouth that he’d backed away and wigged out. It couldn’t have just been her own lack of judgment. Even when she’d said she was sorry, only a small part of her meant it. She was sorry, yes, for overstepping her bounds … but not at all sorry that, for whatever reason, she wanted that man so badly right then that she could have leapt on him and never let him back up for air. Why was that such a bad thing? People have one-night stands with strangers all the time, don’t they?
“Penny for your thoughts?” Wren mused; a knowing smirk slashed across the side of her mouth as she chewed mercilessly on her snack. Sarah made a face up at her.
“I don’t know how you eat that shit, Wren. It’s disgusting.”
“No. What’s disgusting is everyone’s lack of respect for the value of old candy. People back in the day really knew their shit. I’ll die on that hill.”
Footsteps sounded up the stairs and they both turned their heads toward the door. They were followed by a firm knock. “It’s open!” Sarah called. Brent peeked inside and before she could think about it, her eyes rolled, and his expression drooped. He saw it.
“I would ask if I should come back later, but …” He shrugged.
“You could have called,” Sarah drawled back, raising from Wren’s lap. Brent looked as if he could snap. The door shut forcefully behind him.
“I did call, Sarah. All day. We need to talk … alone.” His eyes flickered to Wren, who oddly enough, said nothing in response.
“She’s staying the night. You know, cause she’s not too good to be seen in this part of the city. I couldn’t have asked that of you since you’re too busy to know what’s going on, and too rich to sleep next to me in this apartment until morning.” Sarah’s tone cut like a blade.
“Sarah …” Wren placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m gonna walk up to the store up the street.”
“You don’t have to leave.”
“No, I do. I’m almost out of licorice.” Wren winked, sliding off the side of the bed. She slid her feet into Sarah’s boots and pulled a sweatshirt over her head. “You want anything while I’m out?”
“Cigarettes … please.”
“You got it, boss.” She tiptoed around Brent, who slid out of the way and then clonked down the steps as the door closed. There was a long, empty silence between them as they looked at each other.
“Why didn’t you answer the phone?” Brent finally asked.
“Typically, that’s a message on its own, Brent.”
He was quiet for another long moment and then crossed his arms and stared at the floor. “How did we get here, Sarah?” She crossed her legs beneath her and didn’t answer. Another thing she didn’t know how to explain. Did he do anything? No. But wasn’t that the issue? “Is this because I left the bar that night?”
“That’s most of it,” she said simply.
“Sarah, nobody feels worse than I do about what happened, but I’ve been here. I’ve been right here … every day and all you want me to do is leave. Shit, that’s all you wanted me to do the night you were attacked. I didn’t attack you! I’m innocent, at least on that front.”
“Nobody’s innocent, Brent.” She watched his face go pale. It was clear he was hiding something, but then again … so was she. “Which one of us is gonna go first?”
“Well … I’m not cheating on you if that’s what you’re implying.” Oh, he was fishing. There was definitely something.
“Your tone suggests that you think I would,” Sarah argued.
“Yeah?” Brent pulled out his phone and skimmed through something before turning it around and tossing it before her on the bed. Sarah raised it, finding several photos snapped of her riding off with Detective Kane on his motorcycle. “Tell me what that suggests, Sarah.”
“So, he took me home. And? What’s strange about a police officer escorting a witness that might be in danger after she was almost fucking killed?” She tossed his phone back, nearly hitting him with it. She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t on purpose.
“It wouldn’t be strange, except where I come from … a police escort usually involves a squad car, not my fiancé’s arms wrapped around some tatted-up punk with an unmarked bike.”
“That punk? Is the only reason I’m aware of what was really going on in that hospital, Brent. He and the other spicy detective that you seemed to be so taken with. You’ll have to excuse me for accepting a ride out of that place from someone with a badge … my fiancé wasn’t around to make sure I was somewhere safe.”
“Where was Wren?!”
Sarah shot up from the edge of the bed and stormed toward him. “Wren was with me! I called her after I found this!” She reached for her own phone then, swiping open the photo of his father standing at her crime scene. “Try to explain your way out of this one. I dare you.” Brent stared down at it, zooming in and taking the phone from her. For the life of her, she wished that she could say that he didn’t look surprised … but he did. It would have made ripping this bandage off a lot easier.
“I didn’t know about this. I swear it.” His voice was low … almost angry. Ashamed, even. When he looked up and met her eyes, she could tell he was telling the truth.
“Stay the night with me,” Sarah said, taking her phone from his hand. He drew his brows.
“I thought Wren was—”
“Stay the night with me.”
“Why don’t you come home with me? You can stay as long as—”
Sarah silenced him, pointing a finger toward him. “That. Right there, Brent. That’s why I want you to leave.”
“Because I’m uncomfortable staying in this tiny apartment?”
“To be an educated lawyer, you’re really fucking thick. It’s because even if we were standing in some shack that was ready to collapse over us, you should be comfortable being with the person you chose to be your wife. The person that you love.” He stilled and dropped his mouth slightly open when she slid off his engagement ring. “Everything changed when you gave me this. You never tell me that you love me. You didn’t even say it the night you proposed.”
“Sarah … I—” His throat bobbed, and she handed it to him. “Why are you doing this?”
“Why are you doing this?” She wished she could cry. Nothing came. Nothing except relief. “Ever since you put this ring on my hand … you’ve been different. All the nights that we spent actually talking about something other than work, or school … any of the times we really had an honest laugh? They disappeared. You used to tell me I was your escape from reality. Then you asked me to marry you, and the world found out about it … and now that’s all I am.” She felt better with every word that left her mouth. Like a chisel breaking her out of an encasement of stone.
“That’s not true.” His pride was hurt, but she swore a small piece of him was relieved, too. This was never meant to be.
“Isn’t it? Tell me the truth, Brent. I know that you’re a politician’s son. But tell me the honest to God’s truth. Why did you ask me to marry you? Can you honestly say that it’s because I’m the love of your life?” He didn’t answer. Sarah slowly nodded her head. “I thought not.”
“Why’d you say yes?” He shoved the ring into his pocket.
“Honest answer? I enjoyed what we had. I saw the real Brent Stratford. I knew who he was, and I didn’t want to lose him. If I’d said no, you might have walked out. I wasn’t ready for that. Had I known that it would be … this? Whatever we are now? I would have been honest with you. I’m not ready to get married, Brent. So, for once, if you can’t be honest with me … then be honest with yourself. You don’t want it either, do you?”
He sighed deeply and stared at the floor. “No … no, I don’t.” Sarah reached up and braced his shoulder and he raised his face back to hers.
“You deserve to be happy, too. Truly happy. So do I. I don’t know what I want, yet. I almost lost my life. I won’t spend another minute of it wondering about the what-ifs. I do care about you … but I’m not a nice decorative piece you get to flaunt for your family’s name. And Brent, you shouldn’t have to feel like you have to do it. So, don’t … go live. That’s what I plan to do.”
“You plan to do that with him?”
“I don’t know him. I told you once … I didn’t come to Boston to find my happily ever after with Prince Charming.”
“Why did you come?”
“You know why … I came so I could go to school. I’ve got a case of my own that I’m trying to solve. Now I am one. If I’m being honest, I don’t see how it’s fair to either one of us to worry and fuss over something that maybe shouldn’t even have been a thing in the first damn place.”
They were both quiet for several minutes before he finally spoke. “I feel like I should be a lot more upset about this than I am.”
“That’s because you know it’s the truth.” Sarah smirked.
“I’m sorry, Sarah. I never meant—I really care a lot about you.”
“I care about you, too. My feelings for you aren’t gone … they’re just different. I don’t hate you. But I think you and I both know that this doesn’t feel like forever.”
“No … I agree with you. I do.” He hung his head for a moment and then reached around her, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’ll always be here if you need me, you know.”
“I know. Me too.” She squeezed him back and when they pulled away, he didn’t waste any time with an awkward goodbye. She was grateful for that. Something empty still tugged at her as she heard him trudge down the stairs and out the lower entrance. She supposed that was normal for someone who just broke it off with someone she’d been with for the past two years, but strangely … it wasn’t as painful as it should have been.
It always goes the same way. The minute someone leaves an argument, or an extremely uncomfortable conversation, one finds themselves thinking of all the things they should have said … or asked. Sarah reflected on that as she rinsed her coffee pot out for the third time tonight and started a fresh one. He never answered her question. Never said anything more about the picture of his father on her phone. There was plenty more she figured he wasn’t telling her, and she’d just let him down easy.
Maybe that was a good thing. It meant there was still a chance for her to ask those questions and get honest answers. And she’d be doing exactly that after he had a few days to tuck his tail and shake it off. She stood at the kitchen counter and stared over at the coffee table at the discarded mug that had long since grown cold next to the disassembled frame with her mother’s photo inside. Sarah found herself wondering about the man who’d drank from it … what he was doing.
If he was thinking about her …
CHAPTER 6
THE WEB
The white board. It only came out on special occasions. Those occasions being the ones where the case had so many working parts that neither Athan, nor Rhaena could manage to keep them all in order in their minds. Athan swiveled in his chair at the precinct to stare up at it, holding his third mug of coffee in his hands. Rhaena had told him last night. She told him about her meeting with the EverLife CEO, about Conrad Stratford being there when she arrived, the tension between the two men that was way too obvious, and all the interesting details about their conversation once they were alone.
Nick Specter was a slippery little fuck. Athan already knew that after having to continue to deal with him to supply the coven with a steady amount of blood to keep them satisfied. He hadn’t kept his dealings with Specter from Rhaena. She knew everything, but never let on during their meeting that she had any of that knowledge. It was almost amusing to hear all the ways the CEO had tried to skirt around his dirty secrets. He did believe Specter though, when he still claimed not to have any idea who contaminated the lab with illness … they had covered their tracks immaculately. When Rhaena had presented him with the lab results from the hospital and pointed out that EverLife had pulled them all on numerous occasions, she’d said Nick’s face turned green.
Athan spun the silver ring on his thumb, the only thing that kept his temper from flaring. Nick had explained to Rhaena that after the break-in at the facility, the fact that Sarah had been attacked by the what or who, in Boston that they still hadn’t found, and the fact that Sarah was alive and was to be their new employee in one of the highest paid positions that wasn’t administrative … the documents he’d taken were a necessary precaution. She’d pressed him about his thoughts on the reports since she knew he’d obviously gone over them and Nick had simply said that it was strange. He also offered to allow Sarah to test her own blood if she so wished, to see if her talent that they’d hired her for could be put to use to perhaps help solve her own case. In doing so, it would also help put to rest the other cases around the city that branched out, but all seemed to come back to this mystery creature.
