She changed the channel and muttered under her breath, “If only you knew, doctor smarty pants. You have no idea what it is to see someone you love to be ripped apart.”
No matter what bad situation a person suffered in their lifetime, she thought, enduring or witnessing the vicious ugliness of that kind of death would never compare.
At once, a woman’s face filled the screen. It was Sophie’s mother. Her expression was of grief and despair. “I don’t care what the police say,” she said, her eyes flooded with tears. “I know my daughter was breaking the law when she broke into that cemetery, but still, she didn’t deserve to be torn apart by some crazed lunatics.” She started to sob. “My Sophie deserves justice.”
The camera closed in on Sophie’s father. “Please, if anyone knows anything...” He briefly paused and wiped his tear-stricken eyes. “...I beg you. Help us bring justice for our daughter. She was a beautiful person with a bright future ahead of her.” His lips quivered. “We’ve put up a fifty-thousand-dollar reward for anyone who has information that will help the authorities identify the person responsible for Sophie’s murder.”
Jena switched to another channel, unable to bear the pain Sophie’s parents were going through. When she came to an image of another female reporter addressing a camera, talking about the Salem Cemetery murders, Jena hit the OFF button.
“I can’t take this anymore,” she said, overcome with grief.
All Jena could think about was the curse. When would it begin? Would she hurt the people she cared for? When it started, how bad would her lust for human blood get? Deep down, she knew she was already feeling it.
If only I knew, she thought. Could I really be capable of this? Was there a way to predict or control it?
Jena wanted to reach out to Sophie’s and Todd’s parents, but Dr. Helen Carrington and the detectives assigned to her case suggested she wait a few days. For now, it was imperative that her identity remained anonymous. Her safety was a priority. Whatever attacked her, and brutally killed Sophie and Todd, might still be out there. It was possible the person or thing responsible could be gunning for her. Somehow, it had already leaked out to the press that the survivor of the Salem Cemetery murders was at the Bates Hospital. More than likely, someone at the hospital traded the information for money in return. Fortunately, Helen listed Jena as Jane Doe on all the hospital’s medical records in order to keep her identity private. Helen also sternly cautioned Jena against agreeing to give DNA samples unless she ordered the tests. With every new revelation concerning the murders, the reporters grew bolder in their search for a story and a comment from the only survivor.
Last night, Dr. Carrington had offered Jena a safe place to stay until all this blew over. The fact of the matter was, she thought, sooner or later, no one would be safe around me.
A knock at the door startled her, followed by a familiar voice. “Hey girl, you dressed?”
Jena fought back tears when she caught sight of Angie’s face peeking through the cracked doorway. “Oh, thank God you’re here.”
As Angie came into the room and moved next to Jena’s hospital bed, she looked just the same as Jena always remembered her. Although it had been over a year since they saw one another, it seemed as though Angie hadn’t aged since their senior year in high school. She had her shoulder-length hair arranged into a thick braid, and her tanned skin was flawless as always. Built like an athlete, Angie’s frame was long, lean, and strong. Her eyes were the color of the bluest ocean. Not only was Angie beautiful, but she was also smart and confident. Jena could definitely see her friend as a sports model.
Angie tried not to show any negative emotions, no matter how bad her best friend might look. Seeing Jena now was like viewing a chaotic display of cuts and bruises, stitches and bandages, and Angie could feel her good intentions crumbling away. She attempted to keep from frowning and instead, faked a smile.
“Do I look that bad?”
“Sorry, girlfriend.” Angie sighed. “But you look like hell.”
Jena let out a half-suppressed laugh. “Thanks.” She patted the covers, though her voice and movements were still weak. “Sit. I need to tell you something. Something just between us two. What I say here is sealed.”
Angie placed her hand over her heart. “Amen, that’s without question.” Then she slipped out of her jacket, tossed it on a nearby chair, and perched on the edge of the bed. Placing her hand over Jena’s, she said, “Haven’t I always had your back? For crying out loud, woman, I practically had to jump through hoops to get in to see you. Your doctor is one tough cookie.”
Jena’s heart was aching, and all she could do was nod her head. As she opened her mouth to speak, her heart crept into her throat. She tried to swallow it back down as Angie lightly squeezed her hand.
Angie frowned. “Jeez, girl. Whatever this is, you know you can tell me. I’ll keep it locked in the vault.”
“It wasn’t a man who attacked me and killed Sophie and Todd,” Jena finally said.
Angie shook her head. “What are you talking about, Jena?”
“You’re going to think I’ve done lost my mind.”
“Jena—”
“I saw it, Angie. I looked into its evil eyes. At first, I thought I was dreaming when I saw it attack Todd. It was like someone else’s nightmare. But it wasn’t. It was real. I had to leave Sophie behind,” she continued to ramble, her words mixed with tears. “I thought I was going to die. And it... bit me.”
“What bit you, Jena?”
Jena wanted to answer but couldn’t. The air seemed to be getting thicker. The room seemed to be growing smaller. Her throat was tightening, and her pulse began to quicken.
When Jena felt the steady grip of her friend’s hand, she could feel her own hand trembling.
“I know what I saw, Angie,” Jena continued, her eyes wide with terror. “I’m not crazy.”
“Please Jena,” Angie said, her voice soothing. “I promise. Everything is going to be all right. I’m not going to think you’re crazy.”
Jena nodded. “It chased after me, and the pain... I have never felt pain like that. Like my entire body was on fire. And then I fell into an open grave.”
Angie’s eyes stared straight into hers, filled with that unconditional love and trust Jena always found so comforting. “You’ve told me things before—private things—because you knew I’d believe you, right?”
“Yes,” Jena replied.
“Well, why wouldn’t I believe you now?”
“Because,” Jena’s voice cracked, “it sounds so damn crazy.”
“Try me, Jena.”
“Okay.” She swallowed back tears. “It was a werewolf.”
For a long moment, neither of them said a word, just sat there in silence, staring at one another.
“I believe you, Jena.”
Jena’s expression immediately eased. “Y-you do?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Thank God.” Jena released Angie’s hand and settled back against the pillows. “But,” she released a heavy sigh, “there’s more.”
As Jena explained to Angie about speaking to Carla Rosi’s ghost and the curse, the hairs lifted on Angie’s arms. She leaned toward Jena, her voice urgent, “What the hell are you going to do?”
Jena was silent. Just thinking of what Sophie’s and Todd’s families was going through—and what worse things were about to happen—she turned and looked off toward the window.
“Hey, girl.” Angie’s voice drew her firmly back again. “Don’t worry. I’m not leaving you. There is no way you are going through all this alone. I may know some people who can help you.”
“But I could be a danger to others.” Her voice trembled. “That thing cursed me. I’m going to turn into some sort of...” Jena’s voice broke. “I might hurt you. I couldn’t live with myself if I—”
“Don’t start flipping out on me, Jena. We can deal with this. We’ll figure it out.”
“For Chrissake, Angie. This is serious.
I’ve been lying in this bed all morning, listening to the news about Sophie and Todd’s death. I can’t even reach out to their family. It’s my fault they’re dead. I took them to that cemetery. I brought all this—”
“Stop it, Jena,” Angie cut her off. “Stop blaming yourself. It’s not your fault.”
“Angie, I can already feel the virus spreading inside of me. I don’t know how much longer I will be able to control it. What if I kill you?”
Angie heaved a deep breath. “You won’t.”
“What are you saying? How could you know that for sure?”
“Because...” Angie paused, thinking of the right words to say, “...I’m not exactly human.”
The two girls stared at each other in utter silence.
Angie, watching her friend’s expression, already knew what Jena was going to say.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
For the first time, Angie felt relieved to be able to tell her friend the secret she had been keeping from her all these years. Yes, she knew it went against their laws, but in this case, she had no choice. Jena was in danger and she needed the Covenant’s help.
“I’m a Breedline.”
Jena furrowed her brows in question. “What?”
After Angie told her all about the Breedline species, they just sat and held on to each other’s hand, as though, between the two of them, they were each other’s anchor.
“So, do you actually turn into a wolf?”
“No. Not yet anyway,” Angie said with a chuckle. “It’s different for us chicks. Sure, the guys get their first change at age eighteen. We get our wolf when we make love to our bonded mate. So, considering I lost my virtue years ago and I haven’t yet produced a tail or sharp teeth, I guess you can honestly say Mr. Right hasn’t crossed my path.”
Jena felt blindsided. She stared back at Angie, unable to muster up a single word. Finally, she found her voice and said, “Whoa. I thought my problem was going to sound crazy. Damn, girl.”
“You ain’t kidding,” Angie said. “The good news is you’re not alone. I know a place that will keep you safe. They will help you, Jena. Trust me.”
“Where did the Breedline originate from?” Jena queried. “I mean, your people are kept a secret from humans, right?”
“We come from the same place as everyone else,” Angie explained. “God created all mankind. He created us for a special purpose. To help protect humans. It’s written in our book of True Laws. And yes,” she went on, “our kind is supposed to be kept on the down-low, but sometimes, like in your case, our secret is revealed.”
“This is all so surreal,” Jena said, looking past Angie as though she was lost in thought. “I can’t believe all this is really happening.” Then her eyes went wide. “Wait a minute. I thought you said only Breedlines born with an identical twin could shift. You don’t have a twin, do you?”
“I did.” Angie sighed. “My mother had a miscarriage during her second trimester. Her name would have been Alyssa.”
“I’m so sorry, Ang. How come you never told me?”
Angie shrugged. “My mother had a hard time accepting Alyssa’s death, so we just never talked about it. It was one of those things my family tried to forget.”
“Losing a child must have been hard for both your parents. I can’t imagine.”
“Yeah, things were tough growing up in my house. Well hell, I don’t need to tell you. I’m sure you remember what it was like.”
“My family wasn’t exactly normal either,” Jena said regretfully. “You know how my parents treated me growing up. They were ashamed of my ability to speak to the dead. For years, they thought I was schizophrenic. And that’s not even the worst of it. After I graduated, they pretty much didn’t have anything to do with me. I haven’t heard a peep from them in years.”
“What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right?”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Jena replied. “So, this place you were talking about,” she said, changing the subject. “Are they like you? I mean, are they Breedline?”
“Yep,” Angie said shortly.
“Man, it’s going to take me some time to wrap my brain around all this. I feel like I’ve crossed over to another realm.”
“Kinda like an alternate universe, huh?”
Jena chortled. “Yeah, something like that.”
“What am I supposed to tell my physician? She offered me a safe place to go after I’m released here.”
“Jena, she’s talking about the same place I am.”
She looked at Angie perplexed. “But how does Dr. Carrington know about this place?”
“Girl, Dr. Helen Carrington is a Breedline too. Do you really think she would let me see you otherwise? Hell, the hospital has two guards posted outside your door twenty-four seven. This shit is serious.”
Jena just shook her head. “It gets more bizarre by the minute.”
Angie laughed a little. “Yeah, it’s a lot to take in at first. But trust me, you’ll get there.”
Jena had welcomed her dearest friend to her secret with wide-open arms, trusting her completely, and that was exactly what she got. Trust.
“Thank you, Ang.” Jena was obviously relieved. “I knew I could count on you.”
Angie lightly squeezed Jena’s hand again. “That’s what friends are for.”
Chapter Twelve
When Detective Manuel Sanchez got out from behind the wheel of his unmarked car, the morning sun was unmercifully bright. As he covered his eyes with a pair of Ray-Bans, he felt the vibration of his phone. He retrieved it from his back pocket and recognized the caller ID. Shit! It was the head of the Breedline Covenant, Tim Ross.
He checked his watch, noticing it was a little after eight o’clock, which meant the fun was just getting started. In about fifteen minutes, he and his partner, Detective Frank Perkins, were supposed to meet with their captain, who would skin their asses if they showed up a minute late, to go over Jena McCain’s case. Captain James Hodge was not a man who took kindly to tardiness.
Manuel looked up at Frank and said, “Go on ahead. I’ll meet you there in a few. I’ve got to take this call.”
“What do you want me to tell the captain?”
“Hell, I don’t know.” Manuel shrugged. “Tell ’em I’m in the shitter.”
Frank nodded and headed toward the station while Manuel stayed back to take the call.
“Detective Sanchez,” he answered.
“Detective, this is Tim Ross. Can we talk, off the record?”
“Yeah,” Manuel replied, leaning back against the car. “I’ve got a few minutes.”
“We had another incident last night, similar to Ms. McCain’s.”
“Shit!” Manuel stood alert and then asked, “Any survivors?”
“Her name is Tara Hood,” Tim said. “Roman and Lawrence happened to come upon the accident in the nick of time, but her boyfriend wasn’t so lucky. He was ripped to pieces just like the couple in the cemetery.”
Manuel heaved a heavy sigh. “So, did they actually get a look at this thing?”
“No,” Tim replied. “I guess it got spooked when Lawrence and Roman showed up.”
“I take it they didn’t call this one in,” Manuel prompted.
After a few seconds of silence, Tim finally said, “Detective, this is way over your department’s head. We took Ms. Hood to the Covenant, where she is safe. She suffered a few broken ribs and a nasty cut to the forehead. She’s lucky to be alive. Helen is taking care of her injuries. On that note, I thought I would let you know I’m having Ms. McCain transported here when she’s released from the hospital. It’s crucial that we watch over her as well. I believe Ms. McCain is not only in danger, but she could possibly be dangerous to others.”
“And why’s that?”
“Trust me, Detective,” Tim reluctantly said. “It’s a bit of an odd story. I’ll explain later in person.”
“What about the body?” Manuel asked, the cop in him coming out
.
“We’ve got the body stashed in the Covenant’s mortuary.”
“You have your own funeral home?”
“Let’s just say...” Tim briefly paused, “we’re prepared for just about anything.”
“You got an ID on the victim?”
“His name is Brandon Coghill. He and Ms. Hood lived out on Highway 59, about two miles from the scene.”
“I’ll want to ask Ms. Hood a few questions as soon as possible,” Manuel said, checking his watch. “And I want to hear this odd story regarding Ms. McCain. Right now, I have a meeting with my captain. I’ll call you—” He paused when he caught sight of a news reporter moving in his direction. Beneath his unshaven jaw, a muscle worked in aggravation. “Damn it!”
“Is something wrong, Detective?”
“Damn reporters,” Manuel grumbled into the phone. “They’re probably after Ms. McCain’s story. I gotta go. I’ll be in touch.”
He started to walk away, but a TV news reporter with a camera crew blocked his path.
“Detective Sanchez,” said a nerdy reporter sporting coke bottle eyeglasses, a navy blue suit, and a matching pinstriped tie. “I’m from the Mercury News. Do you have a few minutes to answer some questions about the Salem Cemetery murders?”
When he didn’t answer, the reporter pushed it, taking one step closer toward Manuel. “Can you give us an update on how the girl is doing that survived the attack?”
“No,” Manuel gritted out, his eyes narrowing to slits.
Sensing the aggravated tone of Manuel’s voice and the stone-cold look on his face, the reporter took a few steps back.
“What do you think about the girl’s statement?” the reporter asked, further irritating Manuel. “Do you really think she saw a werewolf?”
Manuel removed his sunglasses and glared at the reporter with such intensity that for the smallest second he wondered if the detective was going to throw a punch.
“Our sources tell us the victims at the crime scene were torn apart, and one of them was half-eaten. What do you think, Detective? The public deserves to know the truth.” He held the microphone closer to Manuel’s face. “Are the police searching for a man or is there some kind of wild animal on the loose?”
THE IMMORTAL: A Novel of the Breedline series Page 9