Even in the midst of reveling in his last embrace, I was adding the final nails to the coffin. Bones shook it off, raising a dark brow in question. “In case we have to leave and meet you,” I said in explanation. “It’s cold outside.”
Bones handed me the faded denim coat he’d worn yesterday while causing a forty-car pile-up and I folded it under my arm. He gave one last brush of his lips on my forehead as I prepared to shut the door behind him. You can do this. Let him go. It’s the only way.
“Be careful, Bones. Just please…be careful.”
He smiled. “Don’t fret, luv. I’ll be back before you know it.”
I watched through the peephole long after they drove off and then fell to my knees, letting myself feel all the pain of a shattered heart. I cried until my eyes burned and I could barely breathe. This hurt so much worse than those bullets had.
Twenty minutes later I stood and was a different person. There was no more time for weeping. I had a job to do. You play the hand you’re dealt, Bones had always said. Well, I’d been born a half-breed for a reason, and now was my chance to prove it. Come one, come all, bloodsuckers! The Red Reaper’s ready for you!
I advanced on my mother and spoke in low clipped tones. First things first.
“Get dressed, we’re leaving. Now, I’m going to tell you exactly what you’ll say, and God help you if you don’t follow every fucking word of it….”
The helicopter hovered overhead, a large mechanical beetle in the sky. Don Williams was wheeled over the uneven ground at his insistence and ten other agents fanned out around the perimeter. In the middle of this scene I huddled around Switch’s body. It hadn’t been hard for me to find him. Bones had told me he’d left him in the woods near Cedar Lake. With my new nose, I’d scented him out soon after arriving. Switch was now wearing a denim jacket over his decomposed remains, and a silver knife protruded grotesquely out of his back.
Even seated, Don commanded the activities. “Is that him?” he demanded as he drew near.
“It’s him.”
Don stared down at the unrecognizable corpse and frowned. “There’s nothing left but bones!”
“Funny you should say that,” I responded in a flat tone. “That was his name. Bones.”
The cold wind caused me to shiver and I glanced around at the dreary landscape of naked trees and frigid earth.
“He’s dead, so why the rush? When your call came in, you said if we didn’t arrive within the hour, you were leaving because it was too dangerous to wait. Well, it’s been forty-five minutes and he doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere.”
I stood and towered over him in his wheelchair. “Because yesterday he told me there would be vampires coming for retribution over what happened the night before last. Oliver had toothy friends. The team isn’t in place and I can’t fight them on my own. Since I value my own neck, I don’t want it to become food. Get me and my mother out of here. Now.”
“We’re taking him as well,” he insisted. “We’ll want to study the body.”
I shrugged.
“Study away, but I suggest you speed up. Vampires can smell flesh from miles away. Any of your boys left here poking at pinecones will become one big snack in a hell of a hurry.”
Don stared at me. “Why should I believe you?”
As if annoyed, I ran my hand through my hair. “Because you’re not as dumb as you look. Any of your men who were injured yesterday need to be moved immediately as well. The vamps will try to extort information from them and I’m sure those agents know things you’d rather not be shared with the undead.”
He stared into my eyes for several more long moments and I stared back without blinking. Finally he called out to his men, decision made.
“Let’s move it out, people. Wrap it up, we leave in five! Someone get the hospital on the phone and transport all injured personnel in the Medevac chopper on the double. No arrival destination listed. Stanley, pack that body and make it snappy, we’re airborne in five.”
There was a flurry of activity as the agents rushed to carry out his instructions. While they made final preparations, I sat down next to my mother. She put her hand in mine without a word.
“Ms. Crawfield.” Don approached with the sound of crunching wheels. “Is there anything you’d like to add to your daughter’s description of what happened? Anything at all?”
My mother looked up at him and dourly shook her head. “How could I? I was unconscious. That animal hit me, again. When I came to, Catherine had killed him. There he is, see for yourself.”
Don looked back and forth between the two of us. Neither of us wavered. He sighed. “Then, ladies, come with me. The helicopter will take us to the airport. Let’s try this again.”
Eight hours later, I walked the long corridor of the military hospital in Houston, Texas, with Don rolling at my side.
“It’s done?”