Eternal Reign

by Melody Johnson

  I shook my head. “By the end of our conversation, he was excited about our next scoop.”

  “Only you could flip Carter on a dime,” Meredith said, shaking her head at my antics.

  “On many dimes.” I pointed my finger at the paper, and then, realizing I looked like Carter, I curled my finger back in. “People are going to eat this up, and Carter knows it. As long as there’s no backlash from the bureau, he wants all he can get.”

  “Well, no one demanded a retraction this time,” Meredith said, her voice neutral. Her eyes were on the article, but I knew better than to believe she wasn’t waiting for my reaction.

  “Nope, no retraction.”

  “No one really bought the whole rabid-bear-attack explanation for that last bout of serial killings, and now, whoever this creep is, he’s escalated.”

  “I didn’t mention the bear-attack case,” I hedged, hoping people would make the connection anyway.

  “You didn’t have to. A picture is worth a thousand words.” She tapped her cover photo. “Where there was one, now there’s a dozen. People are going to piece it together.”

  I tried to suppress my smile, I really did, but heaven help me, I couldn’t contain myself. “Good,” I said.

  She shook her head and met my gaze squarely. “What the hell is going on? God knows I should know—we work together on every case and I join you at every crime scene—but somehow, you still manage to cut me out.”

  I’d debated the risks of breaking my word to Dominic for Meredith. She was my best friend, the sister of my heart, and the only person besides Nathan whose mouth was more padlocked than mine. Keeping such an integral part of my life from her was killing me as surely as it would eventually kill our friendship, but I couldn’t risk her life in the hopes of preserving our friendship. I hated that she was on Dominic’s radar; I wouldn’t bring further attention to her by giving her more information for Dominic to entrance from her mind.

  Now that Dominic couldn’t wipe her memory, I couldn’t bear to think how he’d ensure her silence.

  I shook my head. When in doubt, deny. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You know everything I know, which isn’t much.”

  “That’s bullshit. Last time, you knew there were bite marks on the victims. You convinced Greta to order a second autopsy to prove your point, and you didn’t take me with you.”

  I laughed bitterly. “Do you remember the bite marks?”

  Meredith crossed her arms, her green eyes piercing me like a bug on corkboard. “You know I don’t. I don’t even remember shooting the front-page picture, even though it’s on my memory card and saved in my file; I obviously took it.” She leaned on the edge of her chair. “It’s been weeks, and my memory of being mugged is still nothing but fog and shadows. You were attacked that same night, by the same man, but you remembered every detail.”

  I glanced around at the other writers, reporters, and photographers milling in the bullpen, but everyone was putting out their own fires and running to chase their own leads. No one cared about our conversation.

  “After all these weeks, why are you bringing this up now?” I whispered.

  “I tried to ignore the facts and move on. I was ashamed and humiliated and wracked with guilt that I wrote your retraction, that I couldn’t remember my mugging, that I couldn’t be a stronger person and stand shoulder to shoulder with you against whatever you were fighting. I wanted to forget all of it had ever happened, but now it’s happening all over again. The attacks, the bite marks, the secrets—but it’s so much worse.” Meredith held up the paper, and this time, I did cringe. “The body count and viciousness of the attacks are escalating, and I’ve got a bad feeling it’s only just begun. Don’t leave me behind, Cass, not this time.”

  I stared at her, feeling wrung. Even if I didn’t lie, even if I put her at risk and told her the truth—the whole truth about Dominic and Walker, about vampires, night bloods, the Damned and the Day Reapers, about everything—would she even believe me? After hiding behind so many lies for so long, where did I even start?

  My cell phone vibrated next to the keyboard on my desk, and a rare snapshot of Greta smiling flashed at me in time to the rhythmic buzzing.

  I unlocked the screen with a swipe—grateful for the interruption—and turned to give myself a false modicum of privacy. Meredith strained forward in her seat.

  “DiRocco here.”

  “I’m on my way to meet with Dr. Chunn. She doesn’t have much more to show us that we didn’t see on scene last night, so we’re meeting in her office,” Greta said without preamble. “You still want in on her report?”

  “Always,” I said. Meredith was just shy of climbing over my desk to hear Greta’s side of the conversation. I dug my phone more forcefully into my ear, as if that would keep the sound waves from reaching her.

  The secrets were tearing me apart. How could she accept the truth when I’d only recently accepted it myself? My life wasn’t just about uncovering the next scoop anymore. My life was dangerous and insane. I carried knives now instead of pepper spray, and not just any knives—I carried silver-plated knives express-shipped from a paranormal antiquities shop in California. Four vials of human blood were still in my satchel—amid my notepad, pens, and lipstick—and my intention to smear their contents around the perimeter of my apartment was probably more strange than carrying them in my purse. Who could understand that?

  I fingered the vial of Dominic’s blood hanging around my neck, tucked out of sight beneath my shirt, and inspiration struck me. “Meredith’s coming too,” I told Greta.

  Meredith’s smile was brilliant. She mouthed, thank you thank you thank you as she did a little butt-dance on her seat. I remembered the first time Greta had invited me for an exclusive on one of her cases. I’d been just as excited—hell, the thrill of getting the scoop still made my heart race—but in this particular case, anticipation of revealing my secrets, even only a fraction of a secret, was terrifying. No one would believe me if I told them point-blank that vampires existed. Like I told Dominic, I needed to make the news palatable enough for people to swallow. I needed corroboration.

  I waved away Meredith’s thanks and focused on Greta.

  “Dr. Chunn doesn’t like a crowd in her morgue, but since we’re meeting in her office, that should be fine.”

  “Who says three’s a crowd?”

  “They’ll be four with Dr. Leander.”

  I glanced out the window. The brilliant beams of morning sun bathed the bullpen in light. “Dr. Leander is joining us for the meeting? Dr. Nicholas Leander?”

  “That’s what I just said,” Greta said, her voice measured. “Is that a problem?”

  “Not at all,” I said. “Did he agree to the meeting?”

  “I left a voice mail,” Greta answered. “Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. Just curious.”

  “You always have a reason. What do you know?”

  “I got the impression that he’s a night owl,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “The crack of dawn seems a bit early for him.”

  “The sun’s been up for an hour, no crack about it. I’ll see all of you in fifteen,” Greta said, her tone final. She added, “No cameras.”

  Meredith opened her mouth, about to argue. I waved her away, already on it.

  “Aw, G, cut a girl off at the knees, why don’t you?”

  “You already got her in, DiRocco. Don’t push your luck.”

  “Her camera’s her lifeline, like my recorder. When have you ever demanded I not bring my recorder?”

  “You might bring a recorder, but you don’t use it.”

  “Not without permission, and neither would Meredith. Cameras allowed, but no photos without permission.”

  I could hear the exasperation in her sigh even over the phone. “You never know when to quit. You’re lucky Dr. Chunn even permits your involvement.”

  “And I’m grateful for the opportunity. If she ever needs anything from my end, it’s hers for
the asking.”

  “I vouched for you, DiRocco. Don’t make me regret it.”

  “And I vouch for Meredith. Did you like this morning’s article?” I asked, switching gears.

  Greta grunted. “It was one of your better works,” she admitted.

  Damn right it was, I thought proudly, but that wasn’t quite the point. “Did you notice everything I didn’t say? Did you notice how Meredith cropped the photo and—”

  “I know you can keep a secret, DiRocco. That’s no surprise. You wouldn’t be where you are if you couldn’t,” Greta interrupted.

  “Meredith can keep a secret, too. I wouldn’t bring her along if she couldn’t.”

  Greta let loose a strangled noise. After a strained silence, she finally said, “Bring Meredith and her damn camera, but if she takes so much as one photo without permission, just one—”

  I met Meredith’s eyes, and she shook her head vehemently in agreement.

  “She won’t.”

  “—we’re done.”

  I was getting a lot of “just one” conditions on my deals lately, first with Carter and now with Greta. I must be getting on everyone’s last nerve. “I understand.”

  “Good. See you there,” Greta said, and without another word from her, the line went dead.

  I met Meredith’s gaze. “Happy?” I asked.

  “Ecstatic,” she said, but her smile tipped into a serious expression despite her excitement. “Wouldn’t just telling me the truth be easier than dragging me into the investigation?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Are you in or not?”

  Meredith lifted her hands. “I’m totally in, but Greta obviously wasn’t. Why push it? What’s your angle?”

  “You’d never believe me if I told you what’s going on,” I admitted. I tipped my voice low, and Meredith leaned closer to hear me over the background noise of the bullpen behind her. “The truth is so incredible that no one will believe me unless I can prove it.”

  Meredith blinked. “Greta doesn’t even know, does she?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not even sure I can prove it, but if I can, and you finally know the truth and actually believe me, there’s no going back.” Unless Dominic wipes your memory, I thought and then winced at the alternative. “Knowing the truth puts you at risk. People have killed to keep this secret.”

  “I figured as much,” Meredith said. She lowered her voice and whispered, “Will this secret explain why I can’t remember who mugged me and why I was compelled to write that retraction?”

  Jesus, first Greta and now Meredith. Everyone was so ripe to know the truth, they might actually believe me. Hope spread through me, like a spiderweb crack through ice.

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “I didn’t want to know the truth when this all started,” Meredith admitted. “I was scared.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “So was I.”

  “But you plunged headfirst into that investigation, like you do every investigation. Like you’re doing again now.”

  “That’s how I do everything. All in or get out. But you don’t have to do this, Mere. My life isn’t any better for knowing this city’s deep, dark secret.”

  She met my eyes squarely. “If you could take it back, would you unknow it?”

  I breathed in sharply, reminded of my conversation with Dominic last night. “Never. But I don’t think you understand the risk. Knowing could kill you.”

  “Not knowing is killing me, too. It’s just a different kind of death.”

  I shook my head—a person could endure a variety of different kinds of deaths, but only one would actually kill her—but I’d already made my decision. I wouldn’t back out now. “Then we’d better get going. Greta and the lovely Dr. Chunn are waiting for us.”

  Meredith stood. I looped my leather satchel over my shoulder and followed her to the elevator. She waited until we were inside before speaking again. “I overheard Detective Wahl mention a Dr. Nicholas Leander.”

  “Yep. What about him?” I asked, trying to breathe. If I proved the existence of vampires, I’d face a lot more questions than this and from worse people than Meredith.

  “Just getting a handle on who will be at this meeting.”

  I shook my head. “It’ll be just the four of us, no Dr. Nicholas Leander.”

  Meredith raised her eyebrows. “Wahl seemed pretty sure that he’d be there.”

  I shrugged. “I’m pretty sure he won’t be.”

  An image of the gargoyle-like creature Dominic transformed into during the day rose in my mind’s eye. His strong, muscled legs bent back at the knee joint, his nails transformed into talons, his nose—normally straight and regal in his stubbornness—flattened at the front and raised to points at the corners, and his ears elongated to long points on either side of his head. I’d classified him as a vampire because he drank blood and burst into flames in sunlight, but in all my research for my article—in both historical retellings and popular fiction—nothing had prepared me for the creature he became when the sun crested the horizon.

  And yet, even after transforming into that creature, he’d protected me, shielding my body with his and preserving my humanity when he could have stolen exactly what he wanted.

  The man I was slowly coming to know and understand and grudgingly respect was still the same man, even as a monster.

  I shook away the thought. “At least, I certainly hope not.”

  Chapter 10

  Dr. Susanna Chunn’s office in Kings County Hospital Center was remarkably warmer than our last meeting location inside the morgue, and I wasn’t referring to the temperature. Instead of the sleek, polished gleam of chrome, her office was cozy and dimly lit. The smell of antiseptic was replaced by the smell of a floral diffuser, and instead of congregating around gurneys and buckets of severed body parts, we could sit. A dark brown leather couch spanned one wall, bracketed on either side by shelves stuffed to overflowing with binders, books, and framed photos. A light cream area rug spanned the floor, and canvases of waterfalls, sailboats, and ocean sunsets decorated the walls. Opposite the couch was a window with a view of the peak-roofed townhomes on Winthrop Street; the office was just a few hallways short of having a real view of Wingate Park.

  The room was more crowded than I’d expected, but not because Dominic had arrived for the meeting. He hadn’t, but Harroway had. Greta and Harroway sat in the chairs facing Dr. Chunn’s desk while Meredith and I sat on the couch. The tension between Harroway and me was palpable; neither of us acknowledged the other beyond a polite head nod. No razzing from Harroway, and no heckling from me. Anyone who knew us well would know something was wrong based on our good behavior.

  Dr. Chunn was a petite woman, slender and middle-aged, but her subtle style lent her a youthful presence despite the frown lines between her eyes. Her hair was cut pixie short in the same punk hairstyle that reminded me of my brother—short at the sides and long at the top. The style was as faux hawk as she could get and still work in a professional setting. She wore glasses that were new since the last time we had met. They still featured thick, hipster frames, but while the old pair had been black, these were gray on the outside and yellow on the inside. Besides the edge to her hair and beautifully impractical glasses, Dr. Chunn was a consummate professional, from her clothes to her expression. She took her job and this case, like all her cases, extremely seriously.

  Her evidence, however, was everything we already knew and nothing that could help further this investigation.

  Greta sighed with frustration. “You’ve got to give me something to go on, Dr. Chunn. We already know that most of the bodies are missing their hearts. The mutilation and body count have escalated since the last spree of attacks, so please, tell me that we have more leads than we did four weeks ago when this all started.”

  Meredith stiffened beside me, and I remembered that she didn’t know about the hearts.

  “Considering the increased mutilation, there’s actually less physical evidence,” Dr. Chu
nn said morosely. “Matching the severed body parts and organs to complete a whole body for each victim will take time. Once we do, I may have more evidence for you, but until then,” Dr. Chunn shook her head sadly, “there’s unfortunately not much more to go on than we had last time.”

  “What do we know about this guy?” Harroway asked. “Maybe we can start there instead and work from his profile.”

  “Guys,” Dr. Chunn corrected. “Or women, although the brutality of these kills does suggest a size and strength that would rule out female perpetrators. Whoever they are, men or women, they’re not acting alone.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Unequivocally. Dr. Leander left me his findings along with his regrets that he couldn’t be here in person—”

  Greta huffed, and that harsh exhalation expressed exactly what she thought of Dominic’s regrets. I bit my lip to keep from smiling. Someone was getting fired, but it wouldn’t be me this time.

  “—and his notes indicate, in congruence with the evidence I’ve found, that more than one perp caused this kind of damage,” Dr. Chunn finished.

  Dr. Chunn spread a series of photos and ledgers with measurements on the desk between us, and I winced. Photos were less gruesome than being there in person, but not much better. Meredith squirmed in her seat.

  Dr. Chunn pointed to one of the photos and its corresponding measurements. “This victim alone has wounds from mouths with three different bite radii.”

  “Just this victim?” Meredith asked.

  “Many of the bodies have been completely dismembered. Bites from teeth as well as bruises from blunt force trauma and slashes from claws are evident on each victim, and in some cases, like this one, from multiple perps. Analyzing and cataloging each injury on each victim will be a time-consuming process.”

  “Got it,” Meredith said, pursing her lips as if she regretted her question. Her face paled, and I knew why; even after everything I’d seen and experienced at the hands of both humans and vampires in this city, I felt queasy myself.