Revenge

by T K Eldridge

  Camille leaned in and kissed Em’s cheek, then Susan kissed her other.

  “We’re the blessed ones, being able to share this with you. I can’t wait to tell Angelica. She’ll be knitting and crocheting outfits for the next three winters of the child’s life.”

  Camille chuckled, “I had a friend’s mother do that when I was pregnant with Emmy. Six sweater sets, bonnets, booties, even a little dress.” She paused and turned to Em. “In fact, there’s a dark blue storage trunk in the attic in Boston that has all of that stuff in it. You should get Eileen to go through it and see what is still useful.”

  “Oh, she’d love that. She’s been on the boys for a while to settle down so she could have grand-babies.”

  Scatha swooped in and sat on the edge of the table, wings fluttering. ~There are strangers in the trees. They are armed. Your security has not yet noticed them. Get inside.~

  “Susan, get up quickly, we need to get inside,” Emlen’s words pitched low but her fear could be heard. “Scatha, go tell Cullen.” The bird flew off and Emlen rose from the chair, keeping the table between herself and the trees.

  Susan blinked in confusion for a moment as she got to her feet. “What’s wrong?”

  “Scatha spotted armed men in the trees. We need to get inside.”

  Camille shimmered, “I’ll go look,” before she disappeared.

  The 1800’s plantation sat on over a hundred acres of land. Mayfield boasted stables and riding trails, a shooting range, several ponds and the fenced in garden that served as the coven’s ritual space. The house itself sat amid gardens and landscaping that covered nearly four acres before ending in forest on two sides with a brick wall in front and a sloping field behind.

  Emlen grabbed Susan’s arm and crouched low, looking towards the tree line Scatha had flown from. She couldn’t tell if the movement in the brush were people or just the wind. “Let’s move,” she whispered to Susan and the two women crouch-walked behind the concrete planters at the edge of the pool’s patio. There was a large stretch of open space between those planters and the low brick wall of the kitchen garden near the house. “Okay, Susan, when I say go, we run and drop down behind that wall over there, got it?”

  Susan gave Em a nod. “Got it. At least this old lady can do more than hobble.”

  A tight smile and Em whispered, “One…two…go!”

  They pushed to their feet, both running for the back of the house and the three-foot brick shield. The crack of gunfire and the ping of the bullets hitting the patio and metal furniture had both crying out. Four shots. Five. They stumbled and fell behind the garden wall as more shots hit the top, showering them with stone dust and bits of brick. Emlen shook as she glanced over to the house, then turned to look at Susan, a grin on her face. “Almost there…” but her voice trailed off. Susan was laying on her back, a hand pressed to her side, her bright yellow shirt soaked with blood. “Shit,” Emlen said, pulling off her own shirt, leaving her in her bikini top and shorts as she pressed the wad of cloth to the wound. “Hang on, Auntie,” she told the woman.

  Susan nodded, skin pale and sweaty. “Not going anywhere. Gonna see that baby,” she whispered.

  The gunfire had stopped for the moment, which had Emlen terrified they were moving closer. Then she heard gunfire coming from a different direction. Huddling down over Susan, she prayed to whatever Power was listening to keep them safe.

  Camille reappeared and gasped when she saw Susan. Then she yelled for Scatha to get Cullen. A moment later, Cullen raced out the back of the house towards Emlen. “Em, are you hurt?”

  “No, Cull. Susan’s been shot. Get help.”

  Cullen gave Susan a faint smile. “Hey lady, I’m going to carry you inside. It’s probably going to hurt and I’m sorry about that.”

  “Mah heeroo,” Susan teased, voice faint. When Cullen picked her up, she gave a soft grunt of pain and passed out.

  Emlen ran in front of them and pulled the door open, holding it as Cullen stepped inside. She continued the process as they made their way to the clinic room Edmund had set up months ago.

  “Did you…” Emlen started to ask and Cullen interrupted her with, “I called Nina. She was out riding and will be here shortly. Let’s get her cleaned up. Grab one of those Quix pads and put it over the wound, it’ll stop the bleeding.”

  Emlen stepped to the cart and pulled open drawers until she found the treated gauze pads, peeling one open and pressing it to the wound. They rolled Susan on her side and didn’t see an exit wound.

  “The bullet is still inside,” Emlen said as they pulled off her shoes and cut her shirt free. A clean sheet was drawn up over her legs while betadine wipes cleaned most of the blood away. Nina strode in and went to the sink to scrub up while Cullen pulled a clean gown from a packet and held it out for Nina. Gloved and gowned, Nina leaned over Susan while Cullen filled her in. “GSW, no exit wound. She isn’t on any meds but takes iron, zinc and a multi-vitamin.”

  Emlen looked up at Cullen, “How do you know that?”

  He held up his phone. “I have her medical file here. We have them for everyone that spends time here, just in case.”

  “Wow,” Emlen replied. “A little invasive, but rather useful right now. I never would’ve thought about that.”

  “One of the things I came up with after working with the Garda,” Cullen told her, then turned to Nina. “Do you need us to help?”

  Nina shook her head. “Adam is on his way. Should be here in the next ten. I’ll need to get that bullet out and get scans done. He can assist. You two,” she turned to look at them, “should go clean up.” Then to Em she added “And you need something sweet. Juice or some fruit. Can’t have you feeling shocky when you’re pregnant.”

  Cullen slid an arm around Emlen and led her from the room. They headed upstairs to their bedroom and Cullen stopped, wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close. He could feel her trembling in his arms. “We’ll be okay, love. We’ll be okay.”

  Emlen hiccuped a breath, arms wound tight around him. “That was too close, Cull. How’d they get so close? Who were they?”

  “I don’t know yet. Ryan and Kian went after them with a couple of the other Garda and Secret Service. I’ll find out after we clean up and I take care of you. You go ahead and shower, and I’ll get some clothes out.”

  Emlen nodded and turned for the bathroom. A few moments later, he heard the shower come on. He looked down at himself and grimaced, then stepped out into the hall to use the other bathroom to wash up before touching their clean clothes. By the time Em came out, clothes were laid out on the bed for her and Cullen had just stepped back into the room, hair wet and dirty clothes in his hand. “I used the hall bath to clean up,” Cull told her. “Go ahead and get dressed. I’ll get you some juice and meet you downstairs.”

  Emlen gave him a weak smile and a soft ‘thanks’ before she picked up the clothes and retreated to the bathroom once more.

  ***

  Em made her way down the stairs to the kitchen where she slid onto a stool at the counter. Cullen sat a large glass of orange juice in front of her, then went about the process to fix her an iced latte.

  Emlen sipped the juice, then broke the silence. “Any news? Anything?”

  “Kian and Ryan are questioning two of the men. The rest of the crew is on cleanup. Nina and Adam are still working on Susan.”

  Em finished the juice and slid the glass back before she rested, arms folded on the counter. “Cleanup means the rest are dead or escaped, right?” Cullen nodded. “Should we call an ambulance for Susan? Get her to a real hospital? I mean, I know Nina is an Army trauma surgeon, but aren’t we taking a chance with someone’s life?”

  Cullen put the drink in front of Em and leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Nina is one of the best, and Susan didn’t want to go to the hospital. Gunshot wounds must be reported to the police and she doesn’t need that headache. If Nina and Adam can’t handle it, they will be the first to call for transport. Take a breath,
sip your drink and talk to Scatha. He probably has more intel than I do right now.”

  Emlen reached up to kiss his cheek, took her drink and went to the conservatory room. She stayed closer to the inner wall, dragging a chair over and settling behind the larger potted plants. All of the house windows were reinforced glass but Em still didn’t feel safe enough to expose herself that much.

  ‘Scatha, come to me,’ she thought and then leaned back to wait. It didn’t take long before Scatha was swooping through the wall and landing on the arm of Em’s chair.

  ~You rang?~

  Emlen snorted a laugh at his comment. “Yeah, I did. I was wondering if you had any information on the shooters.”

  ~There were eight total. Two captured, two ran and the other four are dead. I believe Ryan recognized three of them, two of the dead and one of the captured. They were Garda under the Cardinal.~

  Em sucked in a breath. “Shit. Anything else?”

  ~I heard one of the runners say that two out of three wasn’t bad, so there were apparently two other attacks today. Successful attacks.~

  “I need to tell Cullen,” Emlen got to her feet but stopped to look back at Scatha. “If you hear or see anything, please let me know. Susan was still in surgery last I checked and I don’t want anyone else getting hurt. Thank you, Scatha.”

  ~I will do my best, Emlen. I’m only sorry I didn’t notice them sooner to get you and Susan to safety.~

  “That’s not on you, my friend. If not for you, we’d both be dead. You’re a hero in this, Scatha. Don’t forget it.” Emlen left the room to find Cullen as Scatha phased through the glass ceiling and into another patrol round.

  Chapter 5

  Kathy, the President’s secretary, opened the door to the President’s office and took a step back as a Secret Service agent led two Virginia State Police into the room.

  Jackson looked up from the papers on his desk and frowned. “What is the meaning of this?”

  “Mr. President,” the Secret Service agent said, “These two officers need to speak with you about Reginald Dunleavy.” The agent then stepped back and stood to the side of the desk.

  Jackson rose and leaned his hands on his desk as he looked at the officers. “And what do you need to tell me about Reggie? Did he get a parking ticket?” Sarcasm and attitude dripped from his words as if the officers in front of him had a bag of dog shit to hand over.

  The older of the two officers lifted his chin, eyes glinting as he held his hat in front of his belt. “Mr. President,” his tone icily respectful, “Mr. Dunleavy was killed today when his car exploded on the Spout Run Parkway.”

  Jackson dropped into his seat and stared at the officer. “How?”

  “We’re still determining that, sir. Witnesses say he was speeding down the parkway, weaving through traffic when it exploded.”

  “Are you sure it’s Reggie?”

  “Preliminary autopsy results and traffic cameras placing him in the vehicle minutes before the explosion would lead us to believe it is Mr. Dunleavy.”

  JJ swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, then nodded to the two officers. “Thank you for letting me know. I’d like to see the report when your investigation is done. If you need any assistance, ask my agent for the proper contacts.”

  The Secret Service agent gestured to the door and the two officers turned and left.

  Kathy stepped into the open door and asked, “Mr. President, is there anything I can get for you?”

  “No, Kathy. Thank you,” JJ replied. He reached into a bottom drawer and pulled out a bottle of vodka and a glass, then poured about two fingers worth before tossing it back. He had been refilling the glass when a very pale Kathy opened the door again. “Mr. President.”

  JJ looked up at her and his brow furrowed at the expression on her face. “What is it, Kathy?”

  “Th-there’s a call for you on line two. It’s the McLean facility.”

  JJ sighed and grabbed the phone then hit the button to connect the call as Kathy stepped out and shut the door.

  “President Jackson,” he said into the phone.

  “Mr. President, this is Lawson Gaines, head of the McLean facility. I’m calling about your father, Judge John Cameron Jackson.”

  “Yes, yes, I know my father is there. What’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. President, but I regret to inform you that Judge Jackson died this morning of an apparent heart attack.”

  JJ didn’t speak and Gaines waited a minute or two before he spoke again. “Mr. President, are you still there?”

  “Yes,” JJ said, voice rough. “Has there been an autopsy yet?”

  “Yes, sir. It’s how we determined he had a heart attack. His body is being transferred to Morton’s Funeral Home per the instructions he had on file here. If you wish different arrangements, you will need to speak with his lawyer.”

  “No, that’s fine. Thank you for calling,” JJ hung up the phone.

  He glanced at the still-filled glass in his other hand, lifted it, and drained it. Then he threw the fine crystal tumbler against the wall and watched it shatter.

  The agent outside the door darted into the room, gun drawn. When he saw JJ leaned back in his chair, both hands over his face, he stopped. “Mr. President, are you injured?”

  “No. Get out.”

  “Mr. President…”

  JJ’s voice rose and he shouted, “I said, get out! You’re fired, you incompetent ass. You can’t even listen to simple instructions. Get out, get out, get out!” As he shouted, he pushed to his feet and stalked closer and closer to the agent, backing the man out of the room before he slammed the door. He stomped over to the desk, grabbed the phone and called his Chief of Staff. “Thompson! I want the agent outside my door fired. That idiot Kathy, too. They can’t understand basic instructions. Do it now.” The phone was slammed back down without letting the other man speak.

  His feet carried him back and forth across the room, his fingers twisted in his hair. “My father is dead. Reggie is dead. I know the Garda didn’t do it because they don’t exist any longer. Who the fuck is after me now?”

  A hesitant tap on the door and then a slip of paper slid underneath. JJ tugged the paper the rest of the way clear of the door and opened the note. It was from his secretary, Kathy. “I’m sorry for your losses today, Mr. President. There is a blackberry pie in the fridge at your coffee bar that I made last night for you. It has been an honor serving you, sir.”

  Now JJ felt like a real shitty person. It had been a long time since someone had bothered doing something nice for him, and here she’d gone and made him a pie. His favorite too. He tugged the door open and called out, “Kathy? Come in here, please.”

  A moment later, the woman stepped up to the doorway and set a box down just outside of it. A security guard stood behind her. Her face flushed, brown hair streaked with gray twisted into a bun and a neat skirt suit that hid curves and hips well-suited to a late-forties aged woman. “Yes, Mr. President?”

  JJ took a deep breath and let it out. “I was an ass and I apologize. I wasn’t myself. Please, stay and continue working for me?”

  Kathy sniffled, then gave him a nod. “Of course, Mr. President. But I won’t be abused by you again.”

  JJ’s fingers curled into a fist behind his back and he gave her a tight smile. Power oozed from him as he spoke the words. “You will work for me until I no longer need you and you will find it the most fulfilling job you’ve ever held.” He watched her face as the suggestion sank deep into her mind and then smiled. “You said there was pie?”

  Chapter 6

  “In other news, the President has, once again, fired several members of his staff without cause. This makes a total of thirty-seven people since he took the oath of office. Members of Congress have floated a bill to request the President get a psychiatric work up to eliminate the possibility of illness or disease.”

  Emlen rolled her eyes as the newscaster spoke of her father’s increasingly erratic behavior. The TV o
ffered some background noise other than the hisses and beeps from equipment around Susan’s bed. Angelica had taken a break to go eat and nap. She’d been sitting by Susan’s bed for two days, after Emlen called her the evening after Susan came out of surgery and was considered stable.

  Camille shimmered into solid form and rested a hand on Em’s shoulder. “You need to rest too, Emmy. Susan’s going to be fine. Nina and Adam have been using typical medicine and magic and she’s already healed as if it had been a week ago.”

  “I know, Mom,” Emlen replied. “They’ve both told me she’s strong and doing well. I’ll believe it when she’s awake for more than fifteen minutes at a stretch.” Em reached up to squeeze her mom’s hand. “Joel came by earlier. I’ve got to sit with Cullen later so Joel can talk to him. Simone hasn’t been around in weeks and Tina is supposed to be spending most of her time at the White House, keeping an eye on JJ.”

  Camille squeezed back. “I think Simone is hoping she’ll cross over, but won’t until this mess with JJ is settled somehow.”

  “I know I’m lucky to be able to talk to ghosts, and the fact that I can touch the living and they can see the dead has been beyond helpful for Cullen and Connor. Having Joel’s wisdom and input is priceless. But I worry. What if the baby gets this gift? How do I teach a small child to keep magic a secret?”

  “I wish I could help you there, Em. I had blocked your magic before you were a year old, so we never really had to deal with it.”

  “And I understand why you did it. If I didn’t have the coven and PLEA around to protect and teach, I’d be considering it too. It’s hard enough teaching a child, never mind a magical one.”

  “You’ll do fine, Emmy. You have good instincts and a lot of love. That’s all you need to start being a parent. The rest comes with experience.”

  Em reached out to hug her mother and sighed. “I love you, Mom. I’m so lucky to get to know you and spend time with you. But know this,” she pulled back to meet Camille’s gaze, “if you decide you’re ready to move on, let me say goodbye and then go. Don’t hang around just because you feel guilty or something, okay?”