Marcella responded, going on for several seconds as she apparently tried explaining me to him.
I was very curious to find out what she was telling him.
They went back and forth several times and I could tell by their tone and changes in body language they were cautiously figuring each other out.
My elbow demanded my attention again and I grumbled a curse, shrugging my way out of my coat and tossing it to the ground to feel the joint better. I doubted it was broken, but it was obviously not happy. I held my arm up as I checked it, feeling the joint completely misshapen and swelling quickly. I kept an eye on Marcella and the old one, watching for any signs things were going to get violent again.
Oh, how fun. I think this might be the first time I’d dislocated anything.
I shifted my attention to the old one when they stopped talking. He was staring at me, his gaze locked on what I was doing. Before I could blink he was in front of me, grabbing my arm and turning my hand towards him. I mostly ignored the sharp jolt of pain it sent through my elbow, but it did make me set my jaw.
“Boy,” he growled, then looked up at me. I could see now his eyes were brown and his gaze particularly intense. “You were the boy in the alley.”
Chapter Seventeen
Responsibility
There are times in your life when you come to certain realizations. You realize you are responsible for your own debts. You are the one who messed up that perfect relationship. You are the one who invested your money in that bad company.
You are the one to blame for the pain in some loved one’s life. Whether they blamed you for it is a moot point. In your mind, you are entirely at fault, even if your intentions were good.
I suspect it was this realization that made Jozef leave Marcella after he infected her. I could see it now in his expression as they spoke, their words tumbling over each other frantically. His voice was a deep growl as he spoke, keeping a close eye on both Marcella and myself.
I noticed none of us had retracted our claws.
Funny how those things worked.
My elbow ached and throbbed, trying to convince me none of the other wounds were as bad. The blood from the gash in my side that soaked my shirt and trousers, however, begged to differ. I wasn’t about to play favorites as they each continued to insist they were the worse wound.
I noticed with some small bit of pride that Josef’s arm was bleeding fairly badly as well, though I could see it starting to heal.
I tilted my head to look at him with my clear eye, giving him a bit closer of a look. He’d taken some damage from both Marcella and myself. The place on his chest where she’d gone for his heart was starting to heal as well. Even then, it was going to take a while. She’d been going full force for his heart.
This was the man who’d bitten me that night so long ago? This was the one who’d changed my entire life in a single moment, then disappeared, running into the night.
I found I really had nothing to say to him about it.
All those times I’d wondered what I would tell him and now here he was in front of me and I felt… How did I feel? Indifferent. It was something in my past, something that couldn’t be changed.
Something I was coming to terms with and discovering I could actually accept.
Marcella would be proud. I was making progress.
“Not that I mean to interrupt,” I finally said, when it became apparent they weren’t going to resolve anything between them right away. I turned to look at them with my white eye this time. It had a different effect than my clear eye, even on Marcella. “But we should probably leave before any of Aleksander’s people show up and start asking questions.”
Jozef paused, spitting on the ground. “That’s the one I’m waiting for,” he said, his tone determined. Gruff. Angry.
I paused, considering this.
“Why?” I wanted to ask if he was working with him, but that sense of danger warned me not to.
Damned sore spots. Aleksander was obviously one of his. I wondered what had happened between them in the past.
Jozef spat on the ground again, rattling off something rapidly in old Italian. I looked questioningly at Marcella. It had gone by far too fast for me to keep up with what he said, even if I knew all the words.
“He says Aleksander tried to kill him,” she translated. There was a note of caution in her voice, wariness. But hope, too. I had no doubt she wasn’t about to let Jozef out of her sight now.
My, Aleksander was making friends right and left.
I wondered which of us would get to him first.
Probably Rasmussen with a head shot from five hundred yards.
“Well then you two can sit here and chat and take on his little band of followers as they show up, I’m going to go visit Rosie.” I took a chance and retracted my claws, then picked up my coat from the ground and shook the dirt from it. I turned it a couple of times, checking how badly it had been torn by Jozef’s claws.
“Why Rosie?” Marcella asked. No, she demanded that one.
“Because aside from an orthopedic specialist, I don’t know anyone who knows more about joints than her.” I paused. “Although most of the time she’s learning how to damage them.”
“Rosie?” Jozef asked. His tone was curious, even when Marcella growled under her breath and glanced at him.
“I’ll let her explain it,” I said, nodding to Marcella. My coat was fairly well torn, but nothing I didn’t think couldn’t be mended. There didn’t seem to be any large pieces missing and the dark color and texture of the fabric would hide most of the repairs. I tossed it over my shoulder and started looking around for my hat.
Hmm, still up there on top of the warehouse. I wonder how that had happened. I only vaguely remembered the moment it had been knocked off when he’d hit me.
“I’ll see you later,” I told Marcella, then turned to Jozef. “I suppose whether I see you again or not will depend on her.” I motioned to Marcella. I walked over to the side of the warehouse and jumped easily onto the first story roof, then up onto the second story and walked over to retrieve my hat. I positioned it carefully over my scars, then turned to run and jump over to the next building.
I wasn’t surprised to hear Marcella and Jozef following me a short distance behind. The distance flew by as I jumped from rooftop to rooftop, not bothering to slow down between each building like usual. I ignored the assorted jolts of pain, knowing they’d go away on their own soon.
I jumped to the ground a block before the shop. Marcella and Jozef caught up with me almost immediately, each one landing solidly beside me.
I sniffed the air out of habit. Cinnamon incense this time. That one was easy to recognize. I appreciated the way Rosie switched the scents she burned in the shop; it gave some variation and kept the air from getting stale.
I paused to test the air again while still a couple of buildings away.
“Nicholas is there,” I noted, then started walking again. Considering how afraid he was of Marcella and myself, this should be interesting.
Yes, I was back to stating the obvious.
“Who is Nicholas?” Jozef asked, his eyes searching the area. I heard him sniff occasionally, testing the scents in the area. No doubt he was finding a lot, Marcella’s shop could keep me busy for hours trying to sort them all out and I knew most of what was there. I’d occasionally suspected she did that on purpose to hide her own scent in the building.
Marcella snorted in response. “Rosie’s husband,” she half-growled.
I couldn’t tell if she was growling out of her slight dislike of Nicholas, or at having to talk about Rosie to Josef. Probably some of each. I could still sense her wariness with Josef.
I pulled open the door to the shop, setting the bells to ringing. Rosie and Nicholas were over by the bookshelves, sorting and shelving books from a box. They both looked over at the sound and I saw Rosie’s immediate concern the same time I felt that same fear well up in Nicholas. He tried to force it down whe
n he saw it was us, but when he saw Jozef, it surged straight into a near-panic.
I was somewhat surprised he didn’t bolt from the room right then.
“Michael, what happened?!” Rosie demanded, dropping the books from her hand back into the box and coming over without even glancing at Nicholas as he stared at us. I wasn’t sure he’d ever seen us after a fight. No doubt we looked worse than usual to him. Rosie looked at Marcella next. “Grandma, did you do this to him?” She started to motion to me, then paused when she saw Jozef. She obviously recognized him as one of us, but there was no fear. I realized then that I’d never known Rosie to be afraid of us. Even when she was a little girl, not even my scars had scared her.
Jozef had stopped just inside the door and was staring at Rosie. There was something about his heartbeat—perhaps a bit quicker.
He recognized something in her.
I knew it without a doubt. Something about Rosie reminded him of someone else.
That left me no doubt he was Marcella’s grandfather.
Heaven and hell save us.
“Upstairs,” Marcella ordered.
“What happened?” Rosie demanded again, taking the lead up the stairs. As we followed her up, I noticed Nicholas was still standing there staring after us. I heard a faint growl from Jozef and felt Nicholas jump the same time I heard him drop the books he was holding.
This was going to be an interesting afternoon and evening here, I could just tell.
“First, I need your help,” I told Rosie as we all filed into Marcella’s living room. “I think I dislocated my elbow.”
Rosie stared at me. She knew how hard it was to hurt one of us.
“Let me see,” she said. “The rest of you,” she glanced from Marcella to Jozef. “What happened?” I could almost hear the maternal tone in her voice. No doubt if—when, I corrected myself—she had children, she’d use the same tone with them.
I pulled my sleeve up so Rosie could look at my elbow. It was definitely misshapen and badly swollen. She began carefully probing the area with her fingertips, her hands warm and dry against my skin.
“I left because I knew Mikhos was going to be in trouble,” Marcella explained. “I had to go help him.” She looked at Jozef as she spoke, her expression conveying every word she didn’t speak.
Rosie glanced at her, then to Jozef.
“You did this?” she asked Jozef.
Jozef only stared at her for several seconds.
“Cara--” his voice trailed off, then he seemed to compose himself.
Rosie turned her attention to me. “If you want me to fix this, you’re going to have to sit down, you’re too tall.”
I sat on the arm of the sofa, letting her turn my arm how she wanted and ignoring the sharp pains. She positioned it at what seemed an odd angle, then gave what felt like a strong pull and twist at the same time while I bit back a grunt from the pain.
I knew everyone in the room heard the pop as it went back into place. I wasn’t so sure if they heard the grinding that I did. After a final sharp jolt of pain, it dulled into a throb I could easily ignore.
“There,” Rosie said, feeling the area again. “Might be sore for an hour or two for you, but that should do it.”
I moved it slightly, testing the joint. It definitely felt better.
“Thank you,” I told her, looking at her with my clear eye as she leaned over and kissed my cheek. Then she turned to look at Marcella and Jozef.
“Grandma, what’s going--”
Before she could finish, Jozef had jumped to stand directly in front of her, studying her face, then stepping back and looking her over entirely. After a moment, he reached over and touched her hair where it fell over her shoulder. He sniffed his fingers, closing his eyes slightly. I could tell his thoughts were momentarily elsewhere.
I didn’t want to think about how far back in time.
He even managed to ignore Marcella’s growl as I put my hand on her arm to keep her from jumping at him.
I tried really hard to ignore the claw tips she sank into my hand as she removed it from her arm.
“Cara mia,” Jozef said to Rosie. “You look like my Cara.” He turned away slightly and I saw the faint moisture around his eyes. “So long ago.”
It’s rare you can hear a man’s heartbreak in so few words.
Whoever Cara had been, she was the love of his life.
And Rosie heard it too. She looked at Marcella.
“Grandma--” she hesitated. “Is this--?” She looked from Marcella to Jozef and back again.
“I think so,” Marcella nodded, her voice quiet. I could hear that wariness, but hint of hope again in her tone. She glanced at me. “And apparently he’s the one who infected Mikhos, too.”
Rosie looked at me, surprised.
“Really?” she asked me.
I shrugged. “He seemed to know the details of when I was infected.”
Jozef slammed his thoughts behind a door in his mind, turning to look at me now. All sign of his deeper emotions gone. I made note of the possible second sore spot.
They were a good thing to keep in mind when dealing with any of us.
“I’d been following a couple to feed on,” he said, his voice stern, matter-of-fact. “Then realized they had children. It was dark, so I ran into the alley, hoping to hide for a few minutes to regain some control.” He paused. “The hunger—it hurt, it ate at my insides and was driving me mad. Then I smelled you. You were reaching for me.” Jozef reached out and grabbed my left wrist, turning my hand to show the scar. He tapped the one scar from the off-angle tooth, then bared his teeth at me.
His right front tooth turned off just so much from the others.
I felt my own heart skip then speed up slightly.
It was him. There was no doubt.
I still had nothing to say to him.
“I struck on instinct, without thought,” Jozef continued, letting go of my wrist. “You were so close, it hurt beyond sanity and there was no one else there.” He took a deep breath, then slowly sat in one of the chairs. “You screamed, then another was there.”
“Phillip,” I supplied. “He was our cook.”
“He startled me and the light behind him let me see you.” Jozef sighed. “That was when I saw how young you were. I asked you to forgive me and ran before I could hurt you anymore.”
So it hadn’t been Phillip’s sudden appearance in the doorway that had saved me. It had been my age.
Never children.
My own resolution for when I needed to feed now gripped me with a cold hand, as sharp as Marcella’s claws. Was it possible the infection from Jozef had influenced my own feelings?
It was a thought that was going to take some time to sort out.
“I was twenty one,” I told him. “Attending university and working in the kitchen in the inn there to earn some extra money. You looked like you were hurt, I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Jozef nodded and seemed to collapse inward some. “Older than I’d thought you were, but still so young.” He looked at Marcella. “Younger than you.”
Marcella snorted at him. “You had your reasons.”
“Wait.” Rosie looked around at each of us, finally settling on me. “So doesn’t that make you kind of a distant relative?”
“I don’t think it works that way,” I told her.
I managed to duck out of the way of Marcella’s swipe at my head. I was glad she had retracted her claws.
“That’s why I thought you were old when I first found you,” she snarled at me. “That’s why at first I thought you might be my grandfather. Why Aleksander is cautious around you and so many others think you’re old. What’s in you is more powerful than any of the rest of us except my grandfather. Most may not realize what it is, but they know to respect or even fear it.”
I looked from Marcella to Jozef. That raised an interesting point.
“Who infected you?” I asked Jozef. If dilution down through generations a
ffected the strength of the infection, I was curious to know how strong it was in him.
Jozef looked at me for a long moment. “My aunt,” he finally said, a note of loss in his voice. “My parents died, so my wife and I lived with her on the family land. I thought she was having a bad dream one night and went in to wake her. She bit my arm then jumped from the window after pushing me away.”
She bit his arm. The right one, I’d be willing to bet. The one he’d been holding when I saw him.
“Was she your aunt one generation back?” I asked.
Jozef shook his head. “Eight,” he answered.
My stomach sank the same time my heart jumped.
It was powerful. And it didn’t make me the monster.
I tilted my head to look at Marcella with my clear eye.
“Michael,” Rosie’s voice was quiet. “That means you’re--” she stopped, not even trying to finish her sentence.
I wasn’t entirely sure any of us could even if we tried. Some things just can’t be contained in words.
“That’s why the venom grows in now,” Marcella told me. “I was over four hundred before the veins were there. You will be less than two hundred.”
“Venom already?” Jozef asked, leaning forward now, looking at me with that same intense stare.
“But he fights it,” Marcella told him. “He fights what he is, so he doesn’t know his strengths. He can’t control everything yet.”
“Don’t you just love it when she talks about you like you aren’t here?” Rosie asked me. I nodded to her.
Marcella paused, sniffing the air.
“Rasmussen,” she said before I had a chance to check myself.
At least Rasmussen didn’t look like one of us yet, so he likely wouldn’t send Nicholas running from the building.
“Who is this?” Jozef asked.
“A detective,” I replied. “Who was infected while working.” I paused, giving Jozef my full attention. “You took the two bodies from the morgue.” It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement. We already knew it was him.
He paused, looking like he was trying to remember. “Two of the snake’s,” he said, using what I guessed was his name for Aleksander. “I didn’t want him to get them back and the people there didn’t need to see what they were.”
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