26
Getting the kids to the hospital was the first priority; a close second was getting Adamson back to the human side of whatever the hell she’d crossed over.
O’Shea drove, careening into the hospital parking lot, all the while wondering at why Milly had insisted they leave. Once India was settled and Jake was rushed off into the emergency room, the witch grabbed him by the arm and dragged him outside, finally answering the question he’d asked what felt like a hundred times on the drive to the hospital.
“You don’t get it, Agent; we can’t get her back from that route, we have to go to where the two of you came in. If it’s still open, she has a chance.” Her eyes flashed bright green at him.
He nodded. “Okay, but then we’re going to have to hurry.”
A shuffle behind them, one of the nurses that had admitted the kids, cleared her throat. “Excuse me, are you Agent O’Shea?”
Surprised, he started to say yes, but thought about the belief that he was a cop killer, and the word froze on his lips.
He needn’t have worried, the witch ratted him out.
“Yes, he is,” she said.
“There’s a phone call, urgent. Agent Valley, he said his name was.” She beckoned them inside.
O’Shea’s surprise turned to shock. Valley was second in the bureau only to Jessop Darlington. O’Shea took a breath, knowing the phone call was either going to be very good, or very, very bad.
He just didn’t know which one.
*-*-*-*
Jail wasn’t so bad. Not if you overlooked the smell of urine and vomit under the pine-scented cleaner that had been used. I was in my own cell, a single hard bed with no mattress, a toilet and a sink. Of course, it wasn’t a jail, not really. I was in the holding cells below the Bismark police department. I had a couple of neighbours, but they were both sleeping off the party from the night before by the sounds of it, though I suspected they’d added to the smell I couldn’t get away from. Pacing, I mulled over my options.
Sleep hadn’t come as easy as I’d hoped. My mind had been unable to let go of the fear and inability to fight back that man, vampire, whatever he was. Then there was O’Shea. I kept checking in with him, and the emotions were freaking me out a bit. Surprise, pleasure, happiness. Had he slept with Milly? It wouldn’t surprise me, not when it came to my best friend. But then, why was there a sudden stab of anger that rode shotgun to that thought?
Nope, not going there.
Footsteps sounded down the long hallway that was the only way in or out. My heart clenched; what if it was the vampire? There was no way I could get away from him, not here. It was the middle of the night and totally plausible that he could walk right in and snatch me.
Two black suits came into view, mirrored glasses and an almost comical resemblance to “Men in Black.”
“So, which one of you was played by Wil Smith?” I leaned a hip against the bars. “I mean, you’re both white, so . . . .”“ I lifted an eyebrow at them.
“You need to come with us, Ma’am.” They opened the door, cuffed me, and escorted me down the long hallway, up the stairs and out the front door into a waiting black van. Just like the ones that had been chasing us. The Arcane division was not something I wanted anything to do with. I hadn’t even had a chance to read through the papers I had on them yet.
Slumping backwards, I leaned against their hands. “I think I’d rather stay in jail, to be honest; black vans and I just don’t look good together.”
They said nothing, just picked me up, opened the door, and tossed me in. The back of the van was dark, only splashes of light from the street lamps peeked in through cracks near the back door. They drove for close to three hours, long enough to get us well out of town, long enough for me to slip the cuffs from back to front and try the door multiple times.
When the door slid open I launched myself out into the early morning sun, the wind whipping my hair around my face, blurring my vision for a split second. I stumbled to a stop. We were at my house.
“Inside. Move.”
Now, thoroughly confused, I did as I was told.
Stepping lightly, I climbed the steps. The front door was slightly ajar, so I pushed it with my shoulder and peeked in. Sitting in my living room was O’Shea, Milly, and a man in a suit who had to be FBI by his posture alone, but I didn’t recognize him. Older, he had streaks of grey in his light brown hair. Brown eyes that looked as though they might have flecks of green in them were his best feature. His face was jowly, nose offset, and it looked as though he had an overbite. But there was an air of confidence that made me think he was in charge.
The stranger stood. “Ms. Adamson. My name is Agent Valley.” He motioned at my handcuffs. “Here, let me take those off for you.”
O’Shea stood. “No, I’ve got it.” He stepped over to me and I tried not to look him in the face, tried not to think about him and Milly in bed together. She always did move fast. He unlocked the cuffs, his fingers lingering for split second on my wrists.
Ignoring the others, I asked him the only question that really mattered to me. “Did the kids make it out okay?”
He smiled, really smiled, and I hated how my heart tried to flop about in my chest like a f*cking Labrador retriever whose best friend just showed up.
“India is back with her parents, though I think you need to speak with them still. And Jake is in intensive care, but it looks like he’ll pull through.”
Relief swept through me. Two kids were back where they belonged. Now I could finally shift gears and deal with the rest of my crazy life.
“Please have a seat, we have a lot to discuss,” Agent Valley said.
Frowning, unable to even guess at what was about to happen, I shook my head. “No, I’ll stand.”
He shrugged. “Fine, fine. You’ve been exonerated of any charges relating to the deaths of the Agents at the mineshaft.”
“Why? How?”
Valley shrugged. “We know it was a Harpy. Nothing to do about that but post men to keep people away from the beast.”
Shock rippled through me; my jaw dropped and I shut it with an audible click. “But . . . what . . . how?”
“We are a part of the Arcane division of the FBI, Ms. Adamson. We know a great deal about the supernatural and we’re doing our best to manage the interactions between them and humans. It doesn’t always go well.” He barked out a dry, humourless laugh. “As I suppose you already know from your own experiences with the law.”
“Okay,” I said. “Fine, you know about us. Good for you. What does that have to do with me?”
Valley nodded to O’Shea. “Liam here has also been exonerated, though he can’t go back to the division he was in. Even though we have a plausible cover story, we can’t convince all the other Agents that the death of one of their own, by one of their own, was acceptable.”
Both of my eyebrows shot into my hairline and before I could ask, O’Shea explained.
“The story is that Martins was in on the child-kidnapping ring and that he shot at me first. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that I showed up at a hospital with two of the missing children and the bodies of two others.”
Valley leaned back in my favorite chair and stretched his legs out in front of him; short as they were, they didn’t even reach the coffee table a mere two feet away. “We’ve pulled Liam into our division. But” —he raised a finger— “he needs a partner. Someone who is savvy to the ways of the supernatural elements of this world, someone who can help him, and in turn help us.”
I folded my arms across my chest, the tightening of bonds and responsibilities I didn’t want creeping in around me. “And if I don’t agree to this?”
The senior agent shrugged. “Nothing. This is not blackmail. We need you. You’d be on payroll of course, and would have access to all of our training facilities, weapons and any equipment you’d need.”
“Could I still go after my own cases?”
He shook his head. “No, anyone who comes to you would then be put through the system. Of course, you’d still be bringing children, people home.”
Licking my lips, I looked to Milly. She shrugged ever so slightly. “I need to think about it.”
Valley agreed, stood, and handed me his card. “Call me when you’re ready to do the right thing.”
I had to hold back an urge to strike out at him for poking at my weak spot. Guilt was the one thing I couldn’t escape, the one thing that drove me more than any other, and of course, those shrewd eyes that had a moment ago seemed kind, saw that in me.
Valley left, but O’Shea stayed behind. Milly stood, touched the agent on the shoulder and said, “Call me.”
He nodded, his eyes tracking her as she left the room. I didn’t have any right to feel upset. Milly always got the guy. It was nothing new. Ignoring my traitorous emotions, I faced O’Shea.
“What about your partner, Martins? Will his name be blacklisted?” It was stupid to ask, but I wasn’t sure what else to say. How could I be his partner? It wouldn’t work. We were too different.
“His family will get a sizeable payout, and his funeral will be all paid for. No expense spared. It was the best they could do. Until the government decides to let the general populace know, it’s the best we could come up with.” His shoulders sagged. “I want you . . .”
My breath caught.
“. . . as my partner.” His dark eyes lifted to mine. “But I’d understand if you turned it down.”
Nodding, I said nothing, for once somewhat speechless. I wanted to go back to the days where I felt nothing for this human standing in front of me. Nothing but contempt, anger, maybe even hatred. Simple to feel those things, not so simple to start caring.
“I’ll let you know.”
He nodded and brushed past me, the scent of his cologne and the mint I remembered from his lips catching me off guard, making me sway on my feet.
The room was silent, but for the steady breathing that was my attempt to calm the confusion rushing through me.
A sniffle at the door caught my ear. I lifted my hand, not needing to turn around. “Alex.” There was the scrabble of feet on the rough wooden floor, and then a large furry body wrapped around my legs and helped to ground me. I crouched down and hugged him; buried my face into his neck.
“Rylee sad,” he grumbled, his arms awkwardly circling me.
“A little. But I’ll be okay.”
“Harpy sad too.”
I’d forgotten about that little detail. I stood, brushed my face off as though I wasn’t crying and strode to the door. “Where is she roosting, Alex?”
He bolted out the door and I trotted after him. He made a beeline for the half-rotted barn. Pushing the door open, I stepped into the mote-filled air. The light streamed through the broken slats and gave a picturesque scene, if not for the Harpy dozing in the old hay.
“Eve?” I didn’t step any further into the room. As it was, I could leap out and slam the door if I had too. Alex, though, had no qualms. He trotted forward and stuck his nose under her chin. “Evie.”
She fluttered awake, her eyes blinking slowly. “Hello, Tracker.”
“You can call me, Rylee,” I said, my hands itching for a weapon, even though she had claimed sanctuary with me. Harpy’s were not trusted for a reason.
“Rylee, then. I chased away the pack that was here; it didn’t take much.”
That explained that. Maybe having a Harpy around wouldn’t be all bad. I nodded my thanks. Alex, though, didn’t hold back, almost throwing himself at the young Harpy; she brushed him off, but not in an unkind way.
“What are you going to do?” Her voice was devoid of any emotion.
It hit me that she was depressed, which made sense. I’d lost my sister, I knew what it was to lose a beloved sibling and think you should have somehow saved them.
Breathing in the scent of hay and years of dust, I made my way over to her, sat down, and talked. About Berget, about my life, about how I wanted to save those kids who got snatched. Her eyes went wide as I opened up to her like I’d only ever done with Milly, and Eve seemed to sense it.
“Why are you telling me all of this?”
By now Alex was laying across my lap.
“Because I know what it is to be lost, to want to find your own path, one that can maybe redeem the past,” I said, my voice thick with sorrow even to my own ears.
She nodded slowly as she took it all in. “May I help you? Would you let me?”
That was not expected, and it was my turn to nod slowly. “Yes, you could help me. But I have to ask, Eve, how can you be so accepting of me? I killed both of your sisters.”
Her feathers fluffed up. “In our culture, it is the strong who survive, the strong who are revered. You were able to kill my sisters; they were not strong enough. You outsmarted them. I would learn from you so that I do not follow in their footsteps. It is often our way to train with those who have killed our family members.”
Wow. Shock filtered through me. That was not what I expected, not at all. “Okay, you have strengths I could only ever hope for to tap into when searching for kids, but don’t you want to go to your own kind?”
Eve snorted and fluffed her body. “They kicked us out because we . . . no, I cannot speak of it yet. They don’t like me, or my sisters.” Her throat caught, and I placed a hand, gingerly, on her wing, feeling the tremble of emotion ripple through her body. It seemed I was bound to pick up strays and outcasts.
Leaving her there, I went back inside the house, passed on my usual routine for the first time in years, showered, went to bed and lay there staring up at the ceiling, Alex stretched out across my legs. Thoughts of O’Shea, Milly, Eve, Alex, India, and Giselle ran through my mind until, finally exhausted, I fell asleep, hoping the morning light would give me some guidance as to what would happen next.