by Margaret Carter, Crystal Green, Erica Orloff, Patricia Rosemor
The streets were empty. Most of the young Turks of Wall Street were long gone. Looking up at nearby buildings, only the odd light or two were lit, likely cleaning crews making their way through the offices. The streets were abandoned. It seemed like a ghost town, and the bitter chill made it seem even more so. Tessa slipped over the fence of the graveyard and crept to a back door that was locked and that led, according to Hack’s architectural plans, to storage facilities. She took a knife and pried off the doorknob and then finagled the door open.
Stepping inside the storage area, she allowed her eyes the second they needed to adjust to the darkness. She smelled earth. This part of the storage was for gardening tools. She looked around, memorizing the room, then moved forward, past hedge clippers and shovels, on to another door. According to the plans, this door led to the catacombs.
Wary of making a noise that might tip off any vampires guarding Lily, Tessa silently picked the lock, grateful she had once made the acquaintance of a cat burglar in Monaco who had taught her a few tricks of his trade. Slipping into the dank stone corridor, she worked from the plans she had memorized and headed to the center chamber beneath the altar. Her instinct told her this is where they would keep Lily.
She walked for a few minutes, pressing herself against the wall. She could hear the scuffling of rats, and occasionally one brushed her leg or ran over her foot. She steeled herself against reacting with a squeal. She hated rodents. Back in her attic apartment in Paris, they used to come out at night, and she thought they were repulsive. She shivered. Then she inwardly chuckled at herself. She could face down a phalanx of zombies, fight other vampires to the death, and it was rats that made her want to run away.
When she was about thirty paces from the chamber, she heard whispering. Straining, she could hear two distinct voices—neither of them Lily’s.
Tessa inched closer, drawing her dagger. She knew she had to use the element of surprise to her advantage. It was two against one.
In one smooth and fluid motion, she threw her dagger at the taller vampire. She aimed for his throat and found her target, hearing a scream echo in the underground tunnel. While he clutched at the blade and reacted in panic, she moved on to the other vampire with a series of roundhouse kicks. This one blocked each kick with his arms. He had martial arts experience.
The corridor was narrow. She had no room to maneuver, and her ears were filled with the unnerving sound of the gurgling gasps of the vampire she’d stabbed.
Suddenly, she was knocked off balance by the second vampire. She could see he wore a long braid down his back. Reaching out, she grabbed his hair before she hit the ground, causing him to yelp and lose his balance. Then she took her leg and kicked straight up at his crotch. He doubled over in pain, but was furious enough to reach down and grab her face, smashing it against the stone wall of the corridor. Her cheek scraped the wall, and she fought against him, drawing a second, longer dagger and driving it into his heart when his face was inches from hers.
She needed to hurry. There was no telling if more vampires lurked beneath St. Margaret’s. Moving toward the chamber, she was terrified of what she might find. Lily had been held captive for days now. Sad experience told her these fiends were capable of anything.
When Tessa arrived at the chamber, she saw Lily sprawled on the floor, arms and legs akimbo. Kneeling beside her, Tessa could see her best friend was barely breathing.
“Lily, darling, it’s Tessa.” She stroked her friend’s cheek, trying to orient her to the gentle sound of her voice.
“You came for me,” Lily whispered, her lips cracked and bleeding.
“That’s what sisters do.”
“I haven’t fed in days. I’m dying.”
“Shh.” Tessa put her fingers to Lily’s lips. “We’ve got to get you out of here. They’re down…” She looked at the fallen bodies of the two vampires. “But I don’t think they’re out.”
Tessa put one arm beneath Lily’s shoulders and tried to get her to sit up. Lily could barely move. Tessa now had to think quickly. As a vampire, she had the strength of many mortals and was strong enough to carry Lily all the way to safety but only if they weren’t attacked. Her only choice would be to offer Lily her own blood. Tessa would be weakened by the feeding, but Lily would gain enough strength to make it out of the catacombs. It was their only chance.
Putting out her wrist, Tessa urged Lily, “Feed. Just do it, Lily, and get it over with. We’ve got to get out of here.”
“I can’t. You’re my best friend. It will weaken you.”
“If you don’t…we both die.”
Lily and Tessa stared at each other in the dark chamber. After decades together and all they had been through, their level of communication was almost telepathic. Lily nodded in resignation and sank her teeth into Tessa’s wrist.
The pain, for Tessa, was excruciating. And as blood left her and entered Lily, it was as if lead weights had suddenly been tied to Tessa’s legs. Every muscle hurt. Her eyes couldn’t see as well in the dark. Her hearing grew muffled, as if she were listening to things under water.
Lily fed fiercely—the undead had that animalistic reaction when they went too long without feeding. But there was still enough of the true Lily left that she stopped feeding before draining too much of Tessa’s life force.
“I can walk now,” Lily said, her voice stronger. “Though I still feel like…well, like a woman who’s been kept in a tomb for a week.”
“Let’s go.”
The two of them struggled to their feet and moved along the opposite wall from where the two wounded vampires lay. They walked as quickly as they could past them, and then Tessa, filled with a sense of foreboding, urged Lily on faster.
“I think they’re stirring.”
They had reached the door leading to the storage area when Tessa heard something moving behind them.
“Damn,” she muttered frantically as she opened the door. “Come on.” They burst through the door and were now amongst the lawn tools. Lily slammed the door behind them, but suddenly the tall vampire, the one she’d struck in the throat, burst through the door, splintering wood. Lily screamed.
“Leaving us so soon, my pets?”
“Sorry, buddy, but we don’t have time to play,” Tessa snapped as she looked around her. Training in Shanghai had taught her the value of decisions made in an instant. She grabbed and then hoisted a heavy shovel and smashed it with all her might over his head, sending him toppling to the earthen floor. Grabbing the hedge clippers she’d spotted when she first broke in the door, she drove them through his heart. The groundskeeper would be plenty surprised tomorrow.
Spinning around, Tessa and Lily escaped into the graveyard. Hugging Tessa, Lily breathed in the night air. “I thought I would die there, alone. Never breathing fresh air again. Look at my arms.” She held them out. Small red marks covered them. “Rat bites.”
Tessa shuddered. “I was going to find you and get you out of there, one way or another, Lily. Come on, baby.”
“You know we’re not safe—not truly safe—until we destroy Marco.”
“I know. A lot’s happened this week. Let’s go to the club. You’re safer there than in your apartment.” Tessa cringed.
“What?”
“There’s a little blood spatter in your apartment.”
“What’s a little blood spatter between friends?”
Tessa laughed at her friend’s unending spunk and sense of humor. “God, I’ve missed you.”
The two of them stumbled from the cemetery and then, in their weakened state, hailed a yellow cab rather than taking their usual rooftop route.
Arriving at the Night Flight Club, they used the back entrance. Tessa rang Jorge’s cell phone. “I have her.”
“Lily?”
“The one and only.”
“Where are you?”
“Back stairwell.”
“Wait there.”
In five minutes, Jorge and Cool had Lily and Tessa in a giant gro
up hug.
“You both look like shit,” Cool said.
“Thanks, Cool. You know how to welcome home a lady.”
Cool winked at her. “You know you’re my girl, Lily.”
Tessa did a double take. The look between them sizzled. Had she somehow missed a little love affair between Lily and Cool? They both looked exceedingly happy to see each other. If it wasn’t an affair, it was at least an infatuation.
“Let me get her up to a shower. Jorge, she’s going to stay here for the night. Tomorrow night, too, I’m sure. She needs to get on her feet. Just keep an extra eye out.”
“You got it.”
The two men went back into the club, and Lily and Tessa made their way up to the loft. It was shortly after midnight.
“Lily, baby, I’ve got to get over to the hospital.”
“Hospital?”
“Long story. God, we have some catching up to do. Detective Flynn was shot. It happed at a factory where they were making Shanghai Red. Marco’s slaves. It was crazy.”
“I thought they were going to haul me out and stake me to the ground to wait for the sunlight. One night they talked about a battle at a factory. Marco was plenty pissed.”
“Yeah, I figured as much. King was the one who found out where they were keeping you.”
“I still can’t believe I’m safe.”
“I have to clean up and go see Flynn. You take a shower in the guest bathroom. Then settle into my bed. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow night.”
Tessa showered hurriedly, still weak, but grateful to wash off the grime and bloodstains. She dressed in a simple turtleneck sweater and blue jeans, and then, after kissing her friend goodbye, set off for the hospital.
Tessa walked the near-abandoned corridors, with their antiseptic hospital smell, at two in the morning. She had found two pints of blood awaiting a transfusion as she walked purposefully through the ER. She slipped them in her purse and then took the elevator to the ICU. She found the ever-faithful Alex Williams in the waiting room, dressed in street clothes.
After embracing, she asked him, “Discharged? You’re not in your sexy blue hospital gown.”
He nodded.
“Is he alert?”
“Off and on, but he needs another operation.”
“Why?”
“A buildup of some blood in his belly. Some internal bleeding.”
“When are they doing the surgery?”
“Tomorrow morning at six.”
“Alex…he’s going to make it, right?”
“Let me tell you something about Tony Flynn.”
“Hmm?”
“That man has more will and heart than anyone I know. He’ll pull through. One time—God, it was just after he and I partnered up—we were investigating a murder that we figured was related to someone dealing dope at a junior high school playground. Seemed to be a territory thing.”
“Do these dealers have no shame? Junior high?”
“I know. Sick bastards. Anyway, we ended up bursting into an apartment where we thought it was just going to be one guy measuring out drugs. Our informant had told us the guy would be high as a kite. No big deal.”
“Let me guess—it was a big deal.”
“Shit, Tessa, we walked into a firestorm. I got shot in the shoulder. Flynn and I were trapped, bullets were flying. But that man in there never got scared. He never lost heart. Even with me down, he ended up arresting two of the shooters, killing one dude, and then our backup caught three others as they tried to get out via the fire escape. He’ll pull through, I’m telling you.”
Tessa nodded and sat down in an orange plastic chair. “They could use an interior decorator around this place.”
“You could say that again.”
Tired from the rescue of Lily and the exchange of blood, Tessa found she could barely keep her eyes open. Soon, she had nodded off, her head resting on Alex’s shoulder.
A half hour later, a nurse, six feet tall with a weightlifter’s physique, entered the waiting room and told Alex and Tessa they could have their allotted visit with Flynn. Alex had told her the medical staff tolerated their late-night visits—outside scheduled visiting hours—for the fallen hero cop. The local New York stations still ran updates on his condition nightly.
Tessa stretched, her head pounding, anxious to see Flynn.
Alex gave her a pat on the back. “You go in, Tessa. Alone. Have some time with him.”
She kissed Alex’s cheek, then followed the nurse back behind the double doors to the world of beeping machines and lives hanging in a balance. The first night, she had been too in shock to look at the other patients as she passed. Now, she peered into the softly lit alcoves and saw crumbled bodies of other accident victims. Occasionally, she saw family members weeping softly, clutching hands, some kneeling at the bedsides of their loved ones. The grief behind the doors of the ICU was almost unbearable. It was a world of crisis.
Walking into the alcove, Tessa immediately saw that Tony was now breathing on his own, though tubes still protruded from his side and his nose. He looked like he was sleeping.
The nurse grasped her shoulder tightly, giving her a boost of strength, then he left her as she moved to the bedside.
She didn’t want to wake her lover. Instead, she looked down at his sleeping face. He had the beginnings of a beard, and his coloring was still very pale, but his face was peaceful. She reached for one of his curls and wrapped it around her pinky, marveling at its dark sheen, longing to take him back to her loft and put him in a warm tub, nursing his wounds, healing him.
Tony Flynn stirred and moaned.
“Flynn? Tony?” Tessa leaned down and whispered in his ear. “It’s me. Tessa.”
Flynn’s eyes fluttered open. He squinted, concentrating on her face. She could tell drugs were making that difficult. His eyelids would flutter down or his eyes would roll back.
“It’s me…. God, I’ve been so worried about you. Please hang on.” She tried to orient him to her touch, taking her index finger and gently stroking his cheek. He looked as if he was struggling to speak, and she urged him to rest. “Sleep, darling. Keep up your strength.”
But still he struggled. Soon, machines were beeping and two nurses appeared at Flynn’s bedside.
“His heartbeat is erratic. We need to call the doctor. Why don’t you return to the waiting room?”
“What’s wrong?” Panic crept into Tessa’s voice.
“We don’t know. He’s been through so much. He may just be overexcited to see you right now. He needs to rest. He’s got surgery tomorrow.”
Tessa leaned down and kissed his forehead. “I love you,” she whispered.
Exiting the ICU, she tearfully bade farewell to Alex Williams and left the hospital, bursting from its corridors and medicine smells to the streets of New York. Ambulances pulled up to the doors of the ER, and she could hear the sirens of cop cars and more ambulances wailing in the streets.
If this were Shanghai, she would have gone to her gardens and prayed. If this were Germany, she would have knelt at her small shrine and said prayers. But suddenly Tessa was filled with a thought. Buddhism was her belief system. But Tony Flynn was an Irish Catholic—no matter what he said about not going to church. She would go pray before the altar of his God. She would pray for his recovery. For the doctors to heal him.
Tessa walked the streets of NewYork, thinking of Flynn and heading toward St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Some vampires were reduced to squealing, quivering mutants by the sight of crucifixes and holy water. They wouldn’t walk on hallowed ground. They would never darken the door of a church. It was belief, of course. They believed, as the undead, that they lived in the shadow of God, forever separated from him, and so the sight of the cross sent them into a panic.
Marco’s followers were not intimidated by the cross. The reason was that they were so far down the path of evil, and he so hated the concept of a single Christian God, that he spat on all things associated with a church and had no
fear. She, on the other hand, respected all faiths. She felt that there was room beneath the heavens for her and her faith, and for Tony Flynn and his faith. For it all.
She entered the cathedral doors, dipped her finger in holy water and kissed it to her lips. “Praise you, for Tony’s sake,” she whispered.
Walking along the outer corridor of St. Patrick’s, Tessa passed small altars and shrines to Christian saints and martyrs. She could barely remember the days when she, like her family, had been part of the Anglican Church in England. Her uncle Henry had had a small chapel on his property and a country vicar to attend to it. They had worshiped there every Sunday, and decorated the tiny country chapel with pine boughs at Christmastime.
When she traveled to Shanghai, she became intrigued by Buddhism. As she studied that, as well as the words of Confucius, she found that Buddhism resonated within her. It made her wonder if in another life she had lived in Buddha’s time. Been a follower. Whatever the reason, she embraced her new beliefs. But she was here, in St. Patrick’s Cathedral, for Flynn.
Glancing into the pews she saw praying figures and sleeping homeless. She walked farther and found a small altar to the Blessed Virgin. She felt this mother of Jesus was as good a religious figure to pray to as any. Kneeling, she slipped a few dollars into the poor box and then lit a candle by taking a long thin matchstick, about a foot in length, lighting it in the flame of an existing candle and then lighting another candle.
“Blessed Mother,” Tessa whispered. “Watch over Tony Flynn. I know I have no right to ask you for mercy, but he is a good man. Please help him.”
Tessa didn’t know how long she knelt in the candlelight. Eventually, she heard the shuffle of footsteps behind her, and a priest in clerical robes came and stood behind her.
“The blessed Virgin,” he said in a whisper. “She brings such comfort.”
She nodded.
He knelt beside her. “I don’t mean to intrude. Are you praying for yourself? For a friend?”
She looked at him quizzically, wondering why he was questioning her.
“Tears. You’re in pain, my child.”
She nodded. “A friend. A policeman who’s been shot in the line of duty.”