by Sarah Blair
She shivered again. “HR understands that emergency situations call for drastic measures. If you want me to sign a release form—”
“I think we can make an exception this once.” Shirt buttons came undone. She tried not to notice the gray curls spread across his chest. Or the way they thinned out into a line that trailed down his surprisingly detailed stomach, and disappeared below his belt buckle. But, the truth was, she already felt a little warmer.
“Come here,” he said.
He sat behind her and opened his arms. She curled up and he pulled her closer until her back melded with his chest. It made it easier that only two thin straps held up the back of the dress. His chin tucked around the top of her head, and he draped the robe across her front. His skin flamed, or maybe she really was that cold. Her body still trembled, but each breath came a little easier, a little deeper.
Soon enough the shaking stopped, and her mind grew blissfully quiet. There was nothing but the steady rush of water, and his heart tapping a rhythm against her back.
For the first time in a long time, she felt truly calm and secure. She was able to think about exactly what was happening right then and there, and nothing else. She was safe and warm, and that was all that mattered.
“Better?” He ran his hand up and down her arm, pulling her out of her stupor.
“Mm,” was all she could manage. Her limbs were leaden and her strength was sapped out.
“Tub’s nearly filled.”
She opened her eyes, reluctantly.
“You’ll feel better after you clean up.” He leaned forward just a little, helping her move.
“Okay.” She turned, and her face was a breath from his own. She could smell his faded cologne, sweet and tangy. It reminded her of chocolate and oranges. “Will you stay?”
“I shouldn’t.” He wavered with indecision, but his hands closed around her arms.
“HR would be really pissed if you left and I accidentally drowned or something.” She dropped the robe to the floor and reached in to test the water.
Mitch clamped his lips into a flat line, but there was a hint of something lighter in his eyes now. “Until you finish your bath, then.”
“I’ll be quick.”
“Take the time you need. I’ll be here.” He left and shut the door quietly behind him.
Sidney peeled off the dress, fighting back another gag. She had no idea what she was going to tell Drew but it didn’t seem as scary now as it had earlier. Maybe if she threw enough money at them, they could find it in their heart to forgive her.
She lowered herself into the warm water, and immediately felt rejuvenated. Showers worked too, but there was something about being submerged in the water that made her feel balanced and whole again. It’s why she loved swimming, and did laps as often as she could manage at her gym. The moment Sidney got into the water, her internal battery powered up.
Normally, she would have soaked for awhile. After she washed her hair out, though, the water was murky and pink with all the ugly things she wanted to forget, so she sent it all down the drain. She dried off and dressed in leggings and the Ramones t-shirt that used to be her dad’s. On the way back through her room, she pulled on some big fuzzy socks and tucked into her robe again.
Mitch sat on the couch, watching NY1. The reporter on screen was still broadcasting live updates from the zoo. Blue lights from police cruisers flashed dramatically in the background, followed by pre-recorded footage of Tom closing up the back of his van. It cut to a shot of Sidney talking with the detective in the back of the ambulance, but thankfully her face wasn’t visible. The gown was unmistakeable, though.
The floor creaked. Mitch turned around.
He muted the television. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah. Thanks for sticking around.” She joined him on the couch.
“Want to tell me what happened?”
All of a sudden she was twelve again and people in uniforms swarmed her house, talking over her head like she wasn’t even there. Mitch had seen her. He’d taken her hand and led her out into the sunshine on the veranda. Away from it all.
He’d spoken to her like a real person. He’d asked all the right questions, and listened carefully to her answers without telling her she was wrong about what she saw.
“Do you really believe it was a human who killed my parents?” her voice wavered.
Mitch went very still. “What does any of that have to do with a koala attack at the zoo?”
“Nothing. Maybe. I don’t know.” Sidney picked at the loose hem on her shirt. She remembered the weight of the koala on her chest. The choking fur in her face. Blood spreading across her body.
“Hey. Stay with me, Lake.” He smoothed his palm across her cheek. “It’s okay. Find the beginning and start there.”
It took her a few shallow breaths before she could find the thread in her mind.
“After you left this morning, a guy I went to school with showed up at the office, Theodore Hutchison.” Sidney wedged her hands together between her knees. “His fiancée was killed. The police think he did it. They arrested him tonight at the benefit right before the attack.”
“Why did he come to you?” Mitch asked.
“He said there was something else in the apartment that attacked him, too. Something with claws.” She bit her lip, nervous about revealing the fact she’d done some investigating on her own, without telling him.
“There was no sign of forced entry or exit from the apartment. Hutch was the only one inside with his fiancée but he’d taken a sleeping pill. He was attacked from behind, and all he saw was claws. It’s just like what happened to my mom and dad. Isn’t it?”
She’d never actually seen the reports, just pieced together what she could manage from hushed voices and speculation in the newspapers. Mitch took off his glasses and cleaned them with the edge of his shirt. He remained silent for a moment, before he replaced them. “That’s as far as you got?”
“I know how it sounds. But what if—”
“Lake. Just, hang on.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “I can see how this might seem familiar. But, you’re going to need more to go on than conjecture. The police would need something air-tight to stand on in order to make an arrest for something like this.”
“But, they don’t have the whole story,” Sidney insisted. “Hutch is scared to tell them the truth about what he saw. He didn’t kill her.”
“And how are you going to prove that?” His tone lacked any accusation. “You want to be an investigator. This is the job. Instinct doesn’t count for shit if it doesn’t lead you to the evidence to back it up.”
“There was an animal rights group at the zoo tonight. Wild. No, WILF. One of them told me that Peyton got what was coming to her. They did something that made the koalas attack us. The woman said something about a book and threefold. I think they might have done a hex or a spell.”
Mitch massaged his wide jaw.
“I know it’s circumstantial, but it’s enough for reasonable doubt,” she insisted. “If we could find them, and that book, it would be something. The way the koala tore that guy apart was just like what happened to Peyton.”
“If you really want to exonerate him, you’ve got to have a solid plan. And, you have to be careful about how you obtain your information. It has to stick.” Mitch shook his head. “Especially when you’re dealing with the supernatural. Mundane law enforcement isn’t going to buy into any of it.”
“But, you do?” She straightened. “You’re not going to tell me to stop looking into this?”
“It depends on why you want to.” He squinted, eyes tight and tired around the edges. “What’s motivating you, here?”
She ducked her chin, glad her hair slid forward to hide her face. “I can’t let Hutch go to jail for the rest of his life for something he didn’t do. And Peyton’s real murderer shouldn’t be allowed to go free. Not if I can help it.”
Mitch sat for a few moments, before he spoke up again.
“I have to try.”
“Why?” His jaw ticked. “Because he’s a friend, or because you think there might be a deeper connection?”
“Because it’s the right, fucking thing to do.” Sidney stood. Needing to move. “Because if I let it go, if I just drop it and move on with my life while an innocent man sits in prison, Peyton won’t get any true justice. How does that make me better than the monsters we’re trying to stop?”
Mitch rested his elbows on his knees, running one thumbnail under the other. He stared at the floor between his feet. “You don’t always get the answers you want to find, just because you want to find them, Sidney. It doesn’t make you a monster to move on. It makes you human.”
“The answers are there.” A knot swelled in her throat, and she felt like maybe they weren’t even talking about Peyton anymore. “I can’t stop searching just because it’s too hard.”
“It’s your first case. You can’t die on every hill you climb. If that’s the way you truly feel, you’re going to burn out quick.” Mitch stood and grabbed his coat. “Take the weekend and think about why you’re in this, and what you really want to get out of being an agent. Don’t forget to lock the door.”
The air left her lungs, the same as if he’d thrown her flat on her back and knocked the wind out of her. Mitch shut the door, leaving Sidney standing in silence. All she could do was listen to his footsteps creak on the stairs as he made his way down.
Nineteen
Shit.
Mitch all but ran down the stairs. His chest flamed and he grappled for the roll of antacids in his pocket.
He’d been idealistic once. Now he was a cynical bastard. Looking back through the wide lens of time, he could see the arc of his life. All the mistakes he’d made to end up alone, eating antacids for dinner, and facing the end of a career.
He didn’t want the same for Sidney.
Holding her in his arms, the way she’d melted against him, it was the best he’d felt in years. It scared the living daylights out of him. She didn’t need him the way he needed her. She was smart. Capable. Determined. She would be better off on her own. He was circling the drain. It wouldn’t be fair to drag her down with him.
“What the hell are you doing?” Mitch mumbled to himself and shoved through the door to the street.
“I’m sure Dimitrius could ask the same question of you.” A man exited behind him.
“Fucking hell.” Mitch’s heart exploded in his chest. He turned to find Tyran standing there, pale blonde curls illuminated by the streetlight. Blue eyes pierced him, not sharp like glass but cold like ice.
“How does Ms. Lake fare this evening?” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat.
It had driven Mitch wild enough in the beginning, trying to figure out how Dimitrius knew every move they all made. After three years, he’d given up and accepted that there were always eyes somewhere, and for the money Dimitrius put into the agency, he honestly couldn’t blame him.
“She’s fine,” Mitch said. “A little shaken up. Nothing she won’t bounce back from.”
“And you?”
The image of a delicate rose creeping out of a stone came back to mind.
“I’m a rock,” he said.
“Benadur does enjoy his parables.” Tyran’s mouth turned up, rueful. “Though, his interpretations are open to debate.”
Mitch waited.
“Which is more powerful—a wild rose that survives despite its circumstances or the water tpersisting over centuries to cleft the stone in two?” Tyran suggested.
“You can both keep your metaphors.” The antacids did absolutely nothing to quell the searing acid in his throat. “She thinks I’m a goddamned monster. And she’s dead to rights on it. I fucked up. She needs someone who can do better.”
“The loom of fate is grander than all of us. Should one thread pull loose, however, the entire tapestry will unravel.” Tyran stepped closer, his voice quiet and hard. “Don’t be the loose thread.”
Mitch clenched his fists at his sides. He wasn’t typically antagonistic, but it had been a day, and he was finished with the bullshit. “Don’t you people ever say what you fucking mean?”
“Fine. I’ll speak plain. I gave over my very flesh to seal a vow with the Goddess of all creation. I swore with blood and steel to give my life in service of her honor, to defend her bloodline.” He pointed to the soft light streaming from Sidney’s window. “I have upheld that vow every day henceforth, in word and deed. I have thrashed my way across countless battlefields, suffering pain and loss the likes of which you cannot even begin to imagine. But in service to the Goddess, I have never once faltered. In return, she has given me hope, and purpose, and love beyond all measure and comprehension.”
Tyran placed his hands on Mitch’s shoulders and stared him straight in the eye. “The Goddess has called you to serve her purpose. Will you rise to the occasion, or will you turn your back and descend into darkness?”
“Whatever religion you follow is your own.” Mitch shrugged the man’s hands from his shoulders and stepped back. “I haven’t heard any calling.”
“Yet, here we stand, and she has placed her faith in you.”
Mitch glanced up at Sidney’s window, wondering if she could ever forgive him. Wondering how he could move past it all if she didn’t. “Your goddess wouldn’t want me anyway. I’ve broken the only promises I’ve ever made.”
“Who are we as mere men, to know the heart and mind of a goddess?” Tyran shrugged. “The only way to fail is to give up. Sidney needs you, Mitchell. More than she ever has before. If the goddess falls, we all come tumbling after.”
“What does that even mean?” Mitch turned his gaze on him. “What’s Sidney got to do with goddesses and vows?”
“You suffered a deep loss today,” Tyran slid past his questions. “Your head is mired with grief. Mourn. Clear your head. Then perhaps you’ll see things in a better light.”
Tyran disappeared into Sidney’s building, leaving Mitch unceremoniously in the middle of the sidewalk. The frost in the air worked its way under his trench coat and sent him to his car for shelter. He sat at the curb with the engine running, trying to decide what to do.
He needed to clear his head. The only way to do that was with fresh air and a lot of distance. With his choice made, he pulled out and wound his way over to the FDR, heading north for the cabin.
Twenty
An incoming call drew Sidney out of a fitful sleep on the couch. Her eyes burned, and dehydration left her head thick and heavy. The night came back in a scattered mess. She’d thought the koala attack had been bad enough, but far worse was the way Mitch had walked out.
After he left, she’d stayed up researching possible spells and hexes from her usual resources to try to figure out what had happened with the koalas. There wasn’t a whole lot of information about WILF, but she got the impression that it was only because they were a small and disorganized group, not because they were hiding anything effectively. She signed up herself and Williams for an e-mail list, hoping to get a notification of when their next event was.
Sifting through all the information, late into the night, her mind kept drifting in an endless cycle.
Her parents.
The way she kept trying so hard to prove herself, but always seemed to fall short.
How much she wanted to be in the field.
The horrifying way that man’s neck had been ripped open in front of her at the zoo.
Peyton’s murder.
The deep injustice that Hutch might actually spend the rest of his life behind bars for killing the woman he loved, while the real murderer walked free and clear. Just like the monster who killed her parents.
&n
bsp; Her parents.
It continued that way deep into the night until finally, she’d fallen asleep on the couch, her laptop dead and half open next to her.
The ringing didn’t stop. Sidney squinted one eye open against the bright morning sunlight streaming in through her front windows and swiped her thumb up across the screen.
“‘Lo?”
“Good news,” Tom said. “The koala that attacked you last night didn’t have rabies.”
“Super.”
“How you feeling?”
“Got any coffee in an IV drip?” Sidney eased up, testing how it felt to be in a sitting position. NY1 was still on the television. They were running a story on Hutch’s arrest.
“Start with water, trust me,” Tom said. “It’s Saturday. Take it easy this weekend, yeah?”
“Said the kettle to the pot.”
“Ha, right. If people would just quit dying for a minute, so I could catch a break.” Tom chuckled.
Sidney watched happy pictures of Hutch and Peyton montage across the television screen. A few of them were familiar from the presentation at the fundraiser. The photo of the engagement party jumped out at her again. Hutch’s mom stood between Hutch and Peyton, arms circling her son’s neck. Something knotted tight in Sidney’s stomach.
“Did they ever find the murder weapon in the Remington case?”
“They searched the premises again last night and came up empty,” Tom said.
“Only Hutch’s apartment?” Sidney asked.
“And outside, nearby public spaces, storm drains, you name it. Doubt it’ll turn up. That case is a hot mess.”
“That’s basically what the chief said.” Sidney felt queasy all over again, thinking about the way he’d left. Something had gone wrong in their conversation and she couldn’t figure out what it was. Her head throbbed.
“He’s a smart man.”
She considered asking Tom about the blonde cadaver she’d seen at the morgue yesterday, but she knew he wouldn’t be able to give her any information, and it wasn’t fair of her to put him in a compromising position like that.