Helen dropped gracefully into a crouch and traced the side of Val’s face with one red-tipped finger. She didn’t so much as look at me. Don’t worry,” she murmured tenderly. “I’ll take care of it.”
Deep inside, the panther’s hackles rose. I agreed with her. Helen could be really creepy sometimes. She wasn’t Val’s mother, and she certainly wasn’t her lover, but she was acting like both. She stood then, and Darren moved in. His movements were gentle as he helped Val stand, but as soon as she was upright, she leaned forward and vomited, barely missing his shoes.
“S-sorry,” she gasped. “It’s m-my head.”
I grabbed my torn tank top off the floor and wiped her mouth with the ruined fabric. Seeing her suffer like this was awful, but at least we both knew that the one responsible would never hurt her again.
“I’ll carry you,” Darren rumbled, lifting her easily into his arms. She sagged against his chest as he walked toward the door. I looked over my shoulder once. Helen was talking softly with the other man, indicating various corners of the room. I wondered what she was going to do with the crime scene and the bodies, and what she had told the police to stop them from coming. I wondered what would happen to the prostitute.
Most of all, I wondered whether this was really all over. And whether we could finally now find peace.
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epilOgue
Iwoke to an empty bed. Heart trying to claw its way out of my chest, I threw off the covers and ran to the doorway…only to stop, sighing in relief at the sight of Valentine reclining on the couch, swaddled by the afghan that my mother had knit for me when I went off to college. The television was on, its volume turned down low. A thick white bandage slanted from just above her right eye to halfway across her scalp.
She looked up slowly, wincing. “Hey. Did I wake you?”
“No, not at all. I was just worried when you weren’t in bed.”
“I woke up two hours ago with the mother of all headaches.” She wiggled her toes under the blanket. “Come sit?”
I crouched next to her head and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.
“I’m going to make some tea. Did you take something for the pain? Can I get you anything?”
Val pointed to an empty glass. “More juice?”
She said it almost plaintively, like a small child. My heart thumped hard in sympathy. “Of course.” I leaned in to kiss her again before heading for the kitchen. It was close to noon now. We hadn’t gotten home until almost five in the morning. Val had sustained two broken ribs, a concussion, and a good deal of blood loss. It had taken a while to get her cleaned and stitched up. The whole time, she had grumbled about being infirm again.
I had worried about whether she was going to be able to sleep, but exhaustion pulled her under as soon as we were in bed. I hadn’t been so lucky. The sensation of my teeth ripping into the Missionary’s shoulder had haunted me for several hours, yanking me back from the brink
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of welcome oblivion whenever I started to fall into sleep. I had been keeping my distance from Val, so as not to hurt her if I moved in the night, but finally I gave in and aligned my body with hers. Breathing in her scent gave me the peace I so desperately needed. On a positive note, the fact that I couldn’t sleep made it easy for me to wake Val every two hours as a precaution due to her concussion.
I was just firing up the teakettle when Val shouted my name. The panic returned full force, and I was through the doorway in an instant. But she was only pointing at the television. “Look!”
I sat near her feet and rested one hand on her leg over the blanket, willing my heartbeat to slow as I focused on the TV. One of the local news anchors was just introducing a story about three fatalities in a mysterious fire on the Lower East Side last night. She cut to a reporter who was stationed outside the Missionary’s warehouse. Or rather, what was left of it.
Warped metal rebars twisted up out of still-smoldering ruins, reaching futilely for the sky. Yellow crime scene tape fenced off the sidewalk behind the reporter. “Apparently, a resident of the neighborhood dialed nine-one-one at three thirty this morning to report a fire,” he was saying. “The investigation has only begun, but police tell us that the remains of three people have been discovered in the ruins. Two of them are presumed to be Detective Devon Foster and her partner Jared Wilson.”
I squeezed Val’s leg as the station flashed photos of Foster and Wilson on the screen. Devon was smiling in hers. And now she was dead. Val reached out from beneath the blanket to twine our fingers together.
“The third body has not yet been identified,” the reporter continued. “The police believe this to be a case of arson, but have no leads yet as to what the motive might have been.”
Val turned down the volume as the anchor switched to another story. I reached over to cup the uninjured side of her face, drawing my thumb gently across her lips. “See? It really is over.”
She kissed my finger. “Yeah. It really is. I just…God, I wish we could have stopped him from killing them.”
There was nothing I could say—the guilt was eating at me, too. But what could we have done? We’d had no options that would both preserve the secret and keep the police safe. Besides, it wasn’t as though
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we had expected the Missionary to be able to overpower two of them. Despite what I had told Val about this being over, I was still curious about him. Helen had to know something. Maybe she would confide in Val, someday.
Val’s eyes fluttered closed, and I withdrew my hand. “Sleep, love.”
I went back into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of tea, sipping it slowly as I stared out the window. The street below looked quiet—
peaceful. Weak sunlight filtered down through the bare branches of the trees to coalesce in pools on the chipped sidewalk. A woman walking her dog—a miniature Schnauzer wearing its own sweater—paused to chat with a man who was salting the steps of his walk-up. It was a quiet scene. Peaceful. After everything that had happened over the past few months, that world looked alien.
And yet, I was still a part of it. I had an exam in three days that I desperately needed to study for, and a legal brief due by the end of the week. I also needed to work on finding a summer internship. That prospect had once been exciting, but now it just seemed like one more hoop to jump through on the way to getting my degree. It was disconcerting, this new realization that what had once been my intellectual passion now paled in comparison to my fascination with the animal that lurked inside me.
I wanted to experience again that wholeness and unity that we had discovered in the warehouse. I wanted that effortless transformation and perfected communication. I had believed that I was destined to forever struggle against the desires of the panther, but after last night, I dared to hope that we could be at perfect peace with each other. Someday. The sound of the doorbell pulled me out of my introspection.
“Don’t get up, sweetheart,” I called, hurrying out of the kitchen. When I looked through the peephole, I felt my eyebrows arch in surprise. “It’s Helen.”
She swept into our apartment regally, making it seem dingier than it really was. As usual, she wore an immaculately tailored pantsuit. The dark red color of this one made my skin crawl. The panther bared her teeth. “Helen,” Val said, and I went to the couch to help her sit up. She looked in confusion from Helen to the window and back again. It was broad daylight. “How are you here? Are you all—”
“I’m fine,” she interrupted smoothly. “And I have my ways of
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moving about in daylight if necessary. I’ll be out of town for a time, and wanted to check on you before leaving.”
Val looked surprised. “Thank you. But you didn’t need to come yourself.”
Even Helen’s shrug was elegant. I sat next to Val and put my hand on
her knee to keep myself from fidgeting. It was logical for Helen to care about Valentine, I knew, but she took it further than my reason could justify and that made me nervous.
“I’ve taken care of last night’s…problem,” she continued. “There is no evidence that can be linked to either of you.”
Val nodded solemnly. “We saw on the news. Thank you.”
Helen looked at me for the first time since entering. “I’d like to speak with Valentine alone now, please.”
Internally, I bristled at the request, wishing that Val would say something to keep me in the room. Helen cowed her far too easily. Then again, I reflected as I walked back into the kitchen, I wouldn’t exactly have the impulse or inclination to buck Malcolm. I busied myself with pouring another cup of tea, and then washing the dishes in the sink. My hearing was effectively superhuman now, but even so, I couldn’t catch more than a word or two of what they were discussing. After about a minute, Val said something about Helen having a good trip, which was all the license I needed to reemerge. As I walked out, I saw Val pocket a small black box. It was the perfect size for a ring. “Thanks again,” she said as Helen went to the door. “Take care.”
Helen nodded once before stepping outside. I bolted the door behind her, then took my place at Val’s side. She was sipping thirstily at her juice, and I wondered whether she needed to feed, having lost so much blood last night. I hoped so. We needed that kind of intimacy right now.
“So?” I said, tracing my fingertips up and down along her thigh.
“What was that all about?”
Val put down her empty glass and carefully rested her head on my shoulder. “She just wanted to ask me a few more questions about the Missionary, that’s all.”
“What did she give you?”
If our bodies hadn’t been pressed up together, I would have missed
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the momentary tensing of Val’s muscles that subsided as soon as it had appeared. “Just something I left at the Consortium,” she said lightly. She was clearly leaving something unsaid, but now didn’t seem like the time to push. I brought my other arm across her body to pull her closer. She sighed, burrowing her face into my neck, and I kissed her temple. Whatever it was, I knew that she would tell me in due time. We had forever, after all.
• 283 •
about the authors
Nell Stark grew up predominately on the East Coast of the USA, attended Dartmouth College, and is now pursuing a doctorate in medieval English literature at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. When she is not teaching, writing, or teaching in the university’s Writing Center, she enjoys cooking, sailing, reading, and most sports. triNity tam is a marketing executive in the music industry and an award-winning writer/producer of film and television. She lives, works, and parents a rambunctious toddler in New York City. Books available from Bold Strokes Books
The Pleasure Planner by Larkin Rose. Pleasure purveyor Bree Hendricks treats love like a commodity until Logan Delaney makes Bree the client in her own game. (978-1-60282-121-7) everafter by Nell Stark and Trinity Tam. Valentine Darrow is bitten by a vampire on her way to propose to her lover Alexa Newland, and their lives and love are placed in mortal jeopardy. (978-1-60282-119-4) Summer Winds by Andrews & Austin. When Maggie Turner hires a ranch hand to help work her thousand acres, she never expects to be attracted to the very young, very female Cash Tate. (978-1-60282120-0) Beggar of Love by Lee Lynch. Jefferson is the lover every woman wants to be—or to have. A revealing saga of lesbian sexuality. (978-160282-122-4) The Seduction of Moxie by Colette Moody. When 1930s Broadway actress Violet London meets speakeasy singer Moxie Valette, she is instantly attracted and her Hollywood trip takes an unexpected turn. (978-1-60282-114-9)
Goldenseal by Gill McKnight. When Amy Fortune returns to her childhood home, she discovers something sinister in the air—
but is former lover Leone Garoul stalking her or protecting her?
(978-1-60282-115-6)
Romantic Interludes 2: Secrets edited by Radclyffe and Stacia Seaman. An anthology of sensual lesbian love stories: passion, surprises, and secret desires. (978-1-60282-116-3)
femme Noir by Clara Nipper. Nora Delaney meets her match in Max Abbott, a sex-crazed dame who may or may not have the information Nora needs to solve a murder—but can she contain her lust for Max long enough to find out? (978-1-60282-117-0)
The Reluctant Daughter by Lesléa Newman. Heartwarming, heartbreaking, and ultimately triumphant—the story every daughter recognizes of the lifelong struggle for our mothers to really see us. (978-1-60282-118-7)
erosistible by Gill McKnight. When Win Martin arrives at a luxurious Greek hotel for a much-anticipated week of sun and sex with her new girlfriend, she is stunned to find her ex-girlfriend, Benny, is the proprietor. Aeros Ebook. (978-1-60282-134-7)
Looking Glass Lives by Felice Picano. Cousins Roger and Alistair become lifelong friends and discover their sexuality amidst the backdrop of twentieth-century gay culture. (978-1-60282-089-0) Breaking the Ice by Kim Baldwin. Nothing is easy about life above the Arctic Circle—except, perhaps, falling in love. At least that’s what pilot Bryson Faulkner hopes when she meets Karla Edwards. (978-1-60282-087-6)
It Should Be a Crime by Carsen Taite. Two women fulfill their mutual desire with a night of passion, neither expecting more until law professor Morgan Bradley and student Parker Casey meet again…in the classroom. (978-1-60282-086-9)
Rough Trade edited by Todd Gregory. Top male erotica writers pen their own hot, sexy versions of the term “rough trade,” producing some of the hottest, nastiest, and most dangerous fiction ever published. (978-1-60282-092-0)
The High Priest and the Idol by Jane Fletcher. Jemeryl and Tevi’s relationship is put to the test when the Guardian sends Jemeryl on a mission that puts her not only in harm’s way, but back into the sights of a previous lover. (978-1-60282-085-2)
Point of Ignition by Erin Dutton. Amid a blaze that threatens to consume them both, firefighter Kate Chambers and property owner Alexi Clark redefine love and trust. (978-1-60282-084-5) Secrets in the Stone by Radclyffe. Reclusive sculptor Rooke Tyler suddenly finds herself the object of two very different women’s affections, and choosing between them will change her life forever. (978-1-60282-083-8)
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