by Elicia Hyder
“What did you do?” I asked.
“Kept my damn mouth shut. Didn’t want whatever that thing was gettin’ in here. Ain’t ashamed to tell ya, I hid under my bed.”
McCain stepped in front of me. “Ignore him, Corporal. He’s crazy.”
“I’d like to hear what he has to say.” I stepped around him. “What happened, Bill?”
Bill shuffled across the cell. “It was a goddamn vampire, you ask me.” He pointed behind us. “The sun came up, and whatever got ol’ Elias gave a screech and squaller, then poof! Everything was silent. Dead silent.”
Essex chuckled.
McCain covered his eyes.
Pittman looked horrified.
I ignored them all. A chill prickled my skin. Everything Elias had told me about nightwalkers—gulp—was true.
McCain leaned against the bars. “Now, Bill, tell her about the faceless man who wanders the hallways—”
“Oh, fuck off, McCain,” the old man said with a dismissive swat. He returned to his bed.
McCain was saying something about schizophrenia, but I wasn’t listening. Chilled to the bone, I turned toward Essex. He was still grinning, but his eyes sobered when they locked on mine. Instinctively, he curled an arm around my waist. “Nyx? You OK? You look like you might pass out again.”
I touched my forehead. “I’m OK.”
“You sure?” He looked past me to McCain. “She got a nasty head wound yesterday.”
“Master Control, open Cell 203,” McCain called into the radio. With a loud buzz, Elias’s cell door slid open.
“You may not believe me, but soon, I promise you’ll know the nightmares are real.”
Essex ushered me inside toward the cot as voices swirled around in my head. My legs wobbled, and his arm held me steady.
Elias’s warning.
Bill’s description.
Nightwalkers screeching.
Elias’s death hadn’t been a murder. It hadn’t been an accident either. He’d died to kill a nightwalker—and to prove to his kids the danger was real.
Chapter Eight
The drive back to the mountains was quiet. My head throbbed from so much rolling through my mind. I wanted to call my brother, but didn’t bother. He was at work and probably wouldn’t answer even if he wasn’t.
Before Essex and I had left the prison, I’d signed for Elias’s body to be cremated and left with the state. The warden said he’d contact me when it was done, but because of the investigation, I had a few days if I wanted to change my mind.
On my lap were the only possessions Elias had left behind. I’d hoped for journals, notes, anything . . . but all that remained of my father’s long and magical life had been reduced to a few trinkets in a shoebox.
It was after midnight when Essex took his turn instead of mine off the highway. “Where are you going?” I asked.
“My place.”
“Excuse me?”
He looked across the cab. “You’re clearly not fine, so either you’re staying with me or I’m taking you back to the hospital. Those are your only two options here.”
“I’m fine. I promise I’m not—”
“Nyx, you almost blacked out again in my arms.”
“Did not.”
He scowled. “Argue all you want, but I shouldn’t have left you alone last night, and I’m not leaving you alone now.”
“Why can’t we stay at my place?”
“Because I have a dog who will pee all over my kitchen if I’m not home soon.”
“I thought Karma stayed in the backyard?”
“He did until he figured out how to climb out of it.”
I turned all the way toward him in my seat. “Karma can climb the six-foot chain-link fence?”
“Remind me to show you the video.”
Essex had adopted the German shepherd when the pup flunked out of K-9 training. Karma was afraid of the dark and preferred humping assailants over biting them. Essex had transformed his entire backyard into a giant playland for Karma—a playland he could, apparently, now escape from.
“So is that a yes? You’ll come peacefully?” Essex asked.
I leaned against my door. “You’re lucky I like your dog.”
Essex grinned. “He’s always had a thing for the ladies.”
“I’ve seen Karma in action. He is definitely pansexual.”
“Yeah.”
“Where will I sleep?”
Like me, Essex had transformed his spare bedroom into a gym.
“My bed.” When I frowned, he laughed. “I’ll sleep on the couch, but good to know where you stand.”
Where did I stand?
There were rules about fraternizing within the department and serious consequences for getting involved with someone in your direct line of command. And, personally and professionally, I’d have hell to pay. As one of the few women on the force, it was hard enough to be taken seriously.
Then there was the new threat of getting moved to day shift, something I couldn’t afford now that I was . . . whatever I was.
“Nyx?”
“Hmm?”
“Just wondering if you passed out again. You went freakishly silent.”
“Sorry.”
He turned onto his street. “You ready to talk about what happened back there?”
“At the prison?”
“No. At mile marker twenty-nine. Of course at the prison.” Shaking his head, he draped one arm across the steering wheel. “What do you think happened to your father?”
“I think he died.”
“But you have theories about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“You had that look you get at a crime scene when you’re on to something.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Guilt pooled like ice water in my belly. I hated lying. I especially hated lying to Essex.
“Why were you so interested in what the old man in the other cell had to say?”
“Because he was there. He heard everything.”
“You don’t think he’s crazy?”
I sighed. “I don’t know what to think.” It was the truest statement I’d made in two days.
“Do you think it’s possible Elias was murdered?”
“He swindled a lot of people out of a lot of money and killed a cop. I’m sure he had lots of enemies.”
“Even after thirty-something years?”
I shrugged. “I wasn’t even born when he did it, and I still haven’t forgiven him.”
Essex bobbed his head as if to say, “Good point.”
After a couple of blocks, he turned onto the cracked driveway of his one-story beige house with dark-red trim. I slid out and met him around the front of his truck. We started toward the door. “Are you ever going to spruce this place up?” I asked, stopping next to the rocks and weeds that covered what was supposed to be a flower bed.
“It’s a bachelor pad. It doesn’t need sprucing.”
I heard the beeps as he punched in the code to his electronic door lock.
“I really need one of those,” I said, joining him.
Essex flipped on the living-room light, and toenails clattered down the hallway. Karma charged full speed into the living room, missed the turn, and slid headfirst into the leather sofa. Essex dropped his head back and sighed.
I laughed and patted my thighs. “Karma!”
“Bad idea.” Essex jumped in front of me as the dog charged us. His paws collided with a thud on Essex’s chest, knocking him a step back. “Oh, geez. Platz, Karma!” he commanded in German.
Sluuuuurp! Karma’s long tongue dragged across Essex’s face before he dropped to the floor.
I put the box of belongings on the table beside the door, then snapped my fingers. “Karma, hier.”
Karma sat in front of me, wagging his tail so hard, his butt slid side to side on the tile. I got on my knees and scratched behind his ears. He licked the side of my face and immediately tried to mount me.
“Karma, knock
it off.” Essex pushed the dog down with his knee.
I hugged Karma’s neck. “I’ve missed you too, boy.”
Essex tossed his keys beside my box and walked to the kitchen. “You hungry? Thirsty?” He whistled and opened the back door. “Karma, voraus.” The dog turned and ran outside.
I stood. “I’m good. Thank you.”
The inside of the house needed a makeover as badly as the outside. The tile floors were worn and cracked, and the kitchen cabinets were stained a bright honey oak with white knobs to match all the appliances.
He filled a glass of water at the fridge spout, drank half of it, then carried the glass back to the coffee table. “How are you feeling now?”
“My head hurts, and I’m exhausted.”
“Honesty; I like it,” he said with a smile. “Come on. I’ll find you something to sleep in.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch. I don’t want to take over your room.”
“Nonsense. Besides, you’re in luck. I actually changed the sheets this week.”
“Yippee.” I followed him down the hallway. Collage frames of family photos hung in the hallway, something his mother had done when he moved in. We passed the room with his weight bench and treadmill, and I was officially the farthest down the hall I’d ever been.
I stopped near the hallway bath as he turned on his bedroom light. “This feels weird.”
“What feels weird?” He walked to the wooden dresser on the other side of the bed and pulled open the top drawer.
“It feels like I shouldn’t be here.”
“Psh . . . do you know how many cops have crashed here over the past year?”
“In your bedroom?”
“Well, no. But why do you think I got rid of the guest room? To encourage the jerks to go home.”
I inched forward as he rummaged through the drawer. The bed was unmade, with a charcoal comforter and light-gray sheets. His clothes from the day before were laying on the trunk at the foot of the bed. And all the finish off the side of the dresser was missing.
I walked over for a closer look. It was teeth marks. “What happened here?”
He looked down. “Oh, that’s Karma’s growth chart. He tried to eat it every day for the first six months I had him.”
I laughed.
“These should work.” He handed me a pair of navy drawstring gym shorts and a black T-shirt from his favorite gun range. “I’ll brush my teeth and get out of your way.”
As he walked to the master bath, I sat on the edge of his bed. I bounced a few times, making the headboard squeak and my cheeks burn with embarrassment. Karma barked out back, and I jumped up and raced from the room.
“You’re gonna sleep great, Nyx,” I muttered, walking back to the kitchen. My throat suddenly dry, I got a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water.
I let Karma inside and locked the door behind him. His water and food bowls were down the hall toward the garage. Both were full.
“Nyx?” Essex called from the bedroom.
“Com—” I cleared my throat. “Coming. Just let Karma in.” On my way back to the bedroom, I grabbed the box of Elias’s things in case Karma got curious. The dog trotted behind me.
“I put a new toothbrush on the sink counter. Do you need anything for your head?” he asked as I put the box on the bed. Karma plopped down by his feet.
“No, thanks. I’m good.” I unholstered my gun, checked its chamber, and put it on the nightstand. When I looked up, Essex was staring. “Are you sure you want to sleep on the couch?” I asked.
His mouth fell open, but he quickly snapped it shut and laughed. “Is that an offer?”
“For me to sleep there,” I answered with a smile.
He walked toward me. “I’m sure. You need anything else?”
“I’m good.”
Standing toe to toe, he looked down and drew in a shaky breath. “Well, sleep tight. I’ll probably be up for a while if you need anything.”
“OK.”
“OK.”
With a nod, he took a step toward the door. I grabbed his arm. “Hey.” When he turned, in an unprecedented move, I put my arms around him. We’d never really hugged before. “Thank you for everything.”
He froze for a second before his arms closed around me. My face nuzzled his neck, and when I inhaled, my legs wobbled for a whole different reason. I dug my fingers into his soft shirt as his hands trailed slowly down my back.
Danger sirens blared through my head.
I peeled my arms free and took a step back, resisting the urge to fan my face. “Night, Sarge.”
He had a lopsided smile, and he shook his head. “See you in the morning.”
When he closed the door behind him, I clenched my fists. My whole body tensed, and I twisted my arms in frustration.
The door reopened. I snapped my arms to my sides and spun toward him so fast my ponytail phwapped me across the eyes.
“You OK?” Essex asked, amused.
“Yeah.” The squeak in my answer betrayed my attempt at playing it cool.
He clicked the side of his tongue. “Karma, hier.”
The dog dragged his body off the floor like it weighed a thousand pounds. Slowly, he plodded through the doorway.
“Goodnight, Karma.”
Essex smiled. “Goodnight, Nyx.”
When I was ready for bed, I turned off all the lights except the bedside lamp. Then I sat cross-legged on the mattress and opened the box from the prison.
There wasn’t much inside: a pair of thick, scratched eyeglasses; the world’s smallest AM/FM radio; and a homemade bookmark with the handwritten quote: “Knowledge is your greatest POWER.”
I closed the lid, and my hand lingered on top of it. Emotion swirled inside me like a whirlpool I didn’t dare get lost in. “Goodbye,” I whispered and placed the box on the nightstand. When I turned off the light, I rolled onto my left side, away from the box. I curled my arms around the pillow.
Tyler’s pillow.
It smelled like his aftershave, sandalwood and cedar with a touch of eucalyptus. I buried my face in it and closed my eyes. Behind me, the door opened.
I froze.
What do I do?
My pulse quickened and my breath caught in my chest. I could almost feel his warm arms slide around me when . . .
Karma jumped onto the bed.
Daylight was beaming through the cracks in the blackout curtains when my spirit snapped free and I opened my eyes. For a second, I forgot where I was.
Then my eyes landed on the Cop Caddy perched in the corner. The front was engraved with a Punisher skull and the name ESSEX. A gift from his mother, the caddy was a custom-built piece of furniture that had a lockbox for his duty weapon, a rack for his pressed uniform, an arm for his body armor, and a charging station for his radio.
My spirit sat up, and I looked at the snoring dog beside me. Sleeping me didn’t seem to mind. I was out cold with one leg wrapped around the comforter and one arm curled across Karma. There was a giant wet spot beneath my open mouth on the pillowcase.
Attractive.
But I’d slept all night, which was the important thing. I’d regret it come my first shift back on duty, but my head wouldn’t heal without rest.
I stood, letting the cold from the hardwood planks seep into my invisible feet. The strange sensation moved up my legs until a chill rippled my whole spirit. I rubbed my arms and looked around the room.
I tiptoed all the way to the caddy in the corner until I realized I wasn’t affecting the floor enough to make noise anyway. As I explored the room, I found a copy of the week’s upcoming work schedule on the small desk beside the dresser.
All the spaces next to my name were blank for the upcoming week. With a groan, I turned away. The bedroom door was still open where Karma had let himself in.
I turned sideways to get through it, so I wouldn’t disturb the hinges. Then I walked down the hallway, stopping to really study the photos on the wall.
It was a p
hoto montage of my boss’s life. As a boy, fishing with his stepdad. At a high school dance with a girl in a sky-blue dress. At his graduation from the police academy.
Essex got his good looks from his father, whom I’d obviously never met. In the photos, James had a generous dusting of white through his wavy dark hair and deep crinkles around his eyes. Surprising, given that Essex was still in utero when James was killed. But even with the age difference, there was no denying the genetics.
His smile he got from his mom. I’d met Clara once with his stepdad, Buddy Harris, at Essex’s promotion ceremony. She’d been snapping pictures like it was his first day of kindergarten, and she was in over half the pictures in the hall. It was cute he was such a momma’s boy.
I heard a noise in the living room and went to investigate. When I reached the end of the hall, Essex was lying on his back with his arm resting across his forehead. He was shirtless—a wonder I hadn’t seen in a while—and he was staring at the ceiling.
When he sat up, I ducked behind the wall and slowly peeked out. The smooth, taut lines etched into his chest and stomach pulled and curved as he stretched. He scratched his head, leaving his hair standing on end. Wearing only a pair of navy boxer briefs, he stood and pulled on a white undershirt as he walked toward the kitchen.
I held my breath when he stopped inches in front of me. He looked down the hallway, and a small smile crept across his lips. I glanced back and saw my bare calf still wrapped around the blanket. He drew in a slow, deep breath, closed his eyes, and leaned back his head.
I knew that look. That restraint. I’d seen it the other night at my doorstep.
You shouldn’t be here, Nyx.
Realization hit me like an asteroid. My first intangible brush with another human, and I was already spying. Making myself privy to information Essex clearly didn’t want me to know.
Everything I’d accused Elias of over the years came rushing back so fast I felt dizzy.
I slowly backed away.
Essex walked to the coffee pot, and I crept backward down the hallway with Elias’s warning replaying in my mind.
“Every day is a battle, a constant choice between good and evil.”
Crazed barking made me jump. I spun, and Karma was standing on the bed looking right at me in the hall. He stopped barking as suddenly as he’d started and looked from me to my body and back again.