“There you are.”
She jumped, then relaxed. It was only Jorick. “I just overheard Traven,” she whispered. “There’s some other guy here and they’re looking for something that Kateesha used to have.”
Jorick dismissed it with a wave. “Then good luck to him.” He surveyed her and reluctantly took the cat from her arms. “Are you ready?”
She nodded enthusiastically and followed him to the dining room where Oren stood near the door. His face was neutral, but defeat was in his eyes. “If you’d like, the Executioner’s car is in the driveway.”
Hesitation and acceptance chased each other across Jorick’s face. In the end, he agreed. He and Oren exchanged cool goodbyes, then he led Katelina outside where they ran into Traven. There was no sign of his visitor, but Jorge followed him unenthusiastically. Katelina felt sorry for the Guatemalan and wondered if she and Jorick should kidnap him and let him go. The idea surprised her, but not as much as the sympathy.
Traven gave them a smooth smile and wished them a safe journey, though the warmth didn’t meet his eyes. Jorick muttered something equally hollow and tugged Katelina across the yard to the shiny black car. It took him a few tries to get it started and he muttered dark things about “idiots who make a mess of things”.
When they pulled out of the driveway and onto the road she asked quietly, “So what will happen to Zuri?”
Jorick looked at her with surprise. “I don’t know. Why?”
“I just wondered. Did they… give him back his arms?”
Jorick looked to the road. “I doubt it. It would make him harder to control.”
She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Can they put them back later?”
“His body will heal and the skin will grow back, so they’d have to cut it away first. And they’d have to do it soon. Even packed in blood, the severed limbs will only keep for so many days before it’s too late.”
She nodded and looked out the window. Micah was right, Zuri was not only one of the Executioners, but also a vampire, so how could she feel sympathy for him? Maybe she was getting soft. Or maybe it was because she was turning into one of them.
That idea was scarier than the other.
The trip was nearly eleven hours. When familiar scenery flashed past the windows, she felt a tingle of excitement. When she saw Jorick’s little white house she nearly squealed. Jorick smirked at her enthusiasm.
He parked the sleek car in the driveway next to his silver Escort, an unlikely pair, and they headed into the house. It was just as she remembered; small and dusty. They moved from room to room, checking for intruders. The broken window in the library was still securely garbage bagged and crisscrossed by a handful of boards, like something from a horror movie.
The sun would rise soon, so Katelina headed down to the basement to join Jorick. The main room was floored in cement. A cobwebbed furnace stared at her from the far corner, and the guest coffin stood slightly open so that the red interior peaked out. Set in the basement’s right wall were two doors. One led to a room stuffed with random junk, much of it belonging to the house’s previous owners, and the other to the bedroom. That was where she found Jorick. He stood next to the stripped four poster bed, frowning.
And then she remembered.
The last time she’d seen the bed it had been heaped with animal carcasses; a present from Alistair. The memory made her ill, and she pressed back against the door frame, as if the room would bite her.
“I flipped the mattress,” Jorick said. “But the smell lingers. I believe a new one is in order.”
“What do we do in the meantime?”
“We can try to sleep on it, or we can sleep on the floor in the next room. Of course, there’s always the guest coffin.”
Of the available options, sleeping jammed around piles of crap seemed the best. “I guess the floor.”
He nodded. “I believe there’s still bedding in there from before.”
He was right. The blankets and pillows were on the floor of the junk room where they’d left them. Katelina sighed sadly and lay down. It was better than the guest coffin and leagues better than the abandoned building. Hell, anything was better than that, even the boxes at Kale’s.
Jorick joined her moments later. He flipped out the light, then slipped under the blankets. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. “We’ll leave tomorrow.”
She nodded, but she wasn’t sure if she was really looking forward to the trip or not.
Jorick shook Katelina awake the following evening. “I’m going to go feed. Why don’t you do a load of laundry and start packing?”
She yawned. “You’re a slave driver.”
“I’ve been up for an hour. I took out the mattress and the garbage, and added some boards to the window in your library. I doubt laundry is going to hurt you.”
He disappeared before she could argue, though she had nothing to say, anyway. She climbed up and shuffled to the bedroom. As he’d said, the mattress was gone, though the box spring was still there. He’d once made a big deal about how old the bed was but she doubted that box springs were historically accurate.
She dressed in clean clothes, a welcome change after so many days, and headed upstairs. The gym bag was thrown in the kitchen, and she pulled out the contents and stuffed them into the washer with one hand. She grabbed the clothes she’d left in the bathroom the night before and emptied her jean pockets. The handful of junk made her think of a child’s treasure box; a rubber band, crumpled dollar bills, wadded up gas station receipts and Velnya’s silver cross.
With the washer started, she grabbed the gym bag and the junk and clunked back to the bedroom. She tossed it all on the naked box spring and hauled out Jorick’s tatty suitcase. She’d spent so much time hauling it around that she felt it needed a name. Maybe Bob? Yeah, it looks like a Bob.
She turned to the wardrobe. Half of it was crammed with black; black slacks, black pullovers, black button up shirts, black jeans, black, black, black. Jorick’s wardrobe made her think of a cartoon character. Day in and day out he looked the same; black hair, black shirt, black pants, black shoes. He had such nice skin. She didn’t understand why he refused to wear color. Maybe she’d make that her next project.
She pulled his clothes out, folded and stacked them. She was half done when she dropped several shirts. Muttering obscenities, she retrieved all but one; the last was caught on something.
“What in the hell?” She tugged on the shirt, then felt the bottom of the wardrobe. Her surprised fingers found a strange ridge. She followed it in the shape of a square. “A trap door?”
Whatever it was, she couldn’t get her fingers under it. Curiosity piqued, she fetched a screwdriver and returned. As she slotted the flat end in the crack, she had visions of forgotten treasure and gold coins. Jorick had probably never noticed it. Anything could be hidden inside!
The square popped loose and she carefully lifted it out. It was too dark to see inside, so she stuck her hand in and pulled out the first thing she found.
The paper was yellowed with time, but there was no disguising what it was: a marriage certificate between a Jorick Smit and Velnya Angelica Lamoure, dated 1855. Katelina’s chest tightened. Apparently Jorick knew about the stash - It was his.
With forced casualness, she cast the paper aside and pulled out several identification documents. They were old and each one had a different name on them. She thought of the multiple IDs that Micah had found in Senya’s car.
There were other bits of official papers, some barely readable, and others in foreign languages. The latest date on any of them was 1865; the year Jorick had left The Guild and gone into hiding.
The last item in the cache was a tarnished silver medallion, just like the Executioners wore. She held it in the palm of her hand and tilted it this way and that. The twisted metal design was a symbol of fear and it felt weird to hold it in her hand.
“What are you doing?”
She jumped and the medallion hit
the floor with a thud. Her startled gaze landed on Jorick. He crouched next to her and nodded to the gaping hole in the bottom of the wardrobe. “You call this packing?”
“I was packing, and then I found the little trap door and thought it might be something exciting.”
Jorick picked up the faded sheets and glanced over them. “And was it?”
“Not really.” Her shoulders sagged. “Why’d you go to all the trouble to hide them?”
A strange smile flicked over his lips and he dropped the papers back into the hole. “I thought they might be useful. Of course, they aren’t now.”
“And this?” She handed him the necklace.
He weighed it in his hand. “Ah, this. I don’t know. I suppose I wore it for so long that I grew attached to it.”
“They don’t make you turn them in when you quit?”
He laughed mirthlessly. “Very few ever ‘quit’. But no, no one asked for it back. Malick designed these himself, or so he said. It’s the symbol he uses for his seal.” He absently traced the twisted metal with a stray finger. “It’s made of three pieces. One means life or living, one death or the dead, and the third is blood, which links us.”
He dropped it into her hand and stood. His eyes moved to the stack of clothes on the bed and then to the suitcase. “How are you going to make this fit?”
“I can’t. You’ll need to buy some bags.” She climbed to her feet and stretched.
“I wouldn’t need to if you didn’t take everything we own.” He stopped suddenly and picked something up from the bed. “What’s this?”
“What’s what?”
He slowly unfolded his clenched fingers to reveal the silver cross; Velnya’s cross. “Where did you get this?”
She snatched it away from him and dropped her eyes, her cheeks pink. “I found it in the fireplace.”
“Why didn’t you leave it there? If you want jewelry I’ll get you some. Now, give me that and I’ll throw it away.” Though his words were casual, something in his eyes made Katelina’s chest twist painfully.
She was just as confused now as she’d been when she talked to Rachel. The damned thing belonged to Jorick’s ex- wife, so why the hell did she want it? But she still thought it seemed wrong to wipe out someone so completely, even someone she despised.
“Actually, I think I’ll keep it. You threw it out and finders keepers.”
His eyes bulged. “Are you serious? What do you want it for?”
She shrugged. “I dunno. I’ve been carrying it around for a while and I guess it’s kind of like a good luck charm or something now.”
Jorick choked on her logic. “Sometimes you don’t make any sense, Katelina.”
“If it’s any consolation, I confuse myself.”
“No, it isn’t. How am I supposed to understand you if you don’t?” He softened and pulled her to him with one arm. He brushed her hair back from her face and sighed. “Keep the damned thing if it makes you happy, but don’t expect me to understand you.”
Once the question of the cross was settled, Jorick carefully disassembled her splint and redid it with clean cloth. When he was finished, they made a shopping list including luggage, shampoo, soap and other odds and ends, then left for the nearest 24 hour chain store.
Jorick walked to the silver hatchback, and Katelina stopped next to Senya’s shiny black car. “We could take this.”
Jorick’s nose wrinkled. “No, we should get rid of it.”
Her eyes went wide with horror. “It’s a sports car!”
“It’s also an Executioner’s car and someone might recognize it. I should have gotten rid of it earlier.” He ran a restless hand through his hair. “There’s no time now.”
Katelina sighed and trudged to the ugly little Escort. As she climbed in she cast a regretful look back at the shiny car. “You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. It’s bad luck.”
Though she agreed, she did so gloomily. “You’re probably right. She’s such a bitch that I’m sure it rubbed off on it. Still, it is pretty.”
“Not as pretty as you are.” He planted a kiss on the side of her neck that sent delightful shivers down her spine. “Now let’s go. We have a lot to do.”
The shopping trip was uneventful, though Katelina was surprised to learn it was New Year’s Eve. She made a mental note to pay attention to the time. The superstition said that whatever you were doing at midnight was what you’d be doing all year, and she wanted to make sure it was something good.
When they got home, they packed the new suitcases with most of their clothes and plenty of “supplies”. Jorick made several remarks about traveling light. She ignored him. She’d once seen a documentary about illegal workers sneaking for weeks through the desert and she still hoped there’d be a better way.
Jorick took the bags to the car and she ran through the house for a final check. Thermostat down? Check. Windows locked? Check. Broken window in the library secured? Check. Sink trickling so the pipes won’t freeze? Check. Oven and stove turned off? Check. Old bottle of congealed blood disposed of? Check.
With nothing else to do, she pulled on her coat and hat and started for the door. She’d just reached it when she was suddenly flung back into the house. She stumbled and sprawled in the chair, her hat askew. “What in the hell?”
“Don’t move,” Jorick hissed from just outside the door. “Someone’s here.”
Terror froze her limbs and she stared wide eyed through the gaping door. She could see the porch, the weedy yard and the stand of trees that led to the beach. “Who are they?” He didn't answer. “Jorick?”
“Shhh! I’m trying to listen!”
She clenched her hands into impatient fists. Her pounding heart beat in time to the passing seconds, and still nothing happened. Suddenly, Jorick slipped into the house, so fast that she didn’t see the motions, and slammed the door.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know!” He met her eyes and some of the irritation left his face. “There are two of them. The female is unfamiliar but the male...I recognize the scent, but I can’t place him.”
Katelina shivered, more from fear than cold. Her eyes darted around and she waited for mysterious vampires to crash though the window. She imagined shards of glass flying as they tackled her to the ground, a knife pressed against her throat.
The polite knock came as a surprise.
They stared at one another with identical shock. Jorick sniffed again, frowned and then straightened his shirt resolutely. He motioned Katelina into the dining room. She hurried around the corner and crouched down in the space where the large desk used to stand. She leaned back against the wall and listened as the door opened and Jorick asked, “Yes?”
A male answered. “Hello, Jorick. You know why we’re here.”
“No, Ark,” Jorick replied sarcastically. “I can’t possibly guess.”
A woman cut in, her tones terse and no nonsense. “You and your human are wanted for questioning concerning the murders of nine vampires, as well as the possible deaths of two Executioners and the theft of Guild property.”
“Thank you, Kioko,” Ark sounded anything but grateful. “This doesn’t have to be hard, Jorick.”
“You’re right.” Katelina heard the door slam shut, only to bang open again.
Ark sounded purposefully patient, “That isn’t what I meant. Malick only wants to speak to you.”
“We’ve done that already!”
“I know, however I have my orders, and I will carry them out.”
“Really?” Jorick laughed coldly. “I’d like to see that.”
A tense silence fell and Katelina twisted her coat collar in trembling hands. She tried to imagine what was happening. No picture formed, so she slowly crawled under the table and squinted through the doorway.
Jorick stood in front of the open door, his back to her and his eyes locked with those of a tall brunette in a long black coat; Ark. Katelina remembered him now. He was the leader of the Ex
ecutioners. On their last visit to the Citadel, he’d brought them a message from one of the council members. She didn’t recognize the oriental female who stood next to him. Her hair was pulled up and her face was impassive and hard.
Ark shook his head sorrowfully. “Is this really what you want, Jorick?” He glanced at his partner. “All right, Kioko.”
The woman pulled something out of her coat. Jorick growled furiously, “You!” Before he could specify what he meant, the same something hit the floor and a hissing sound filled the air.
Katelina crawled forward to see a round, red metallic ball slowly roll to a stop near the couch. It looked kind of like a hand grenade or smoke bomb.
Suddenly, Jorick’s knees buckled and he fell on all fours, snarling like a cornered animal.
“I’m sorry, Jorick. I didn’t want to resort to this.”
“No, I’m sure you didn’t.” He struggled to stand but failed.
Time stood still for Katelina. She stared, wide eyed. What had they done to him? Were they killing him or just hurting him? What could she do? She couldn’t hide and watch him suffer. She had to do something!
With no plan, she dashed into the room and dropped to her knees beside him. She grabbed his arm and cried, “Jorick! What’s wrong?”
“Gas. They have the gas-” he broke off and clutched at her. “I swear, if you hurt her…”
“The human will remain unharmed, as per our orders.” Kioko’s cool eyes swept over Katelina’s horrified figure.
Jorick snarled again and swayed dangerously. His words were labored, but he forced them out. “I can’t believe… you’ve turned into a coward… Ark.”
“I’m sorry, but there wasn’t any other way.” Ark turned his attention to Katelina and held out a hand to help her to her feet. “Come.”
She ignored him and tried to hold Jorick up as he sagged. He was too heavy for her. He clutched at her coat and his mouth opened. Then, his eyes rolled back into his head and he dropped to the floor.
Amaranthine Special Edition Vol II Page 49