by Jenny Allen
“Six months into the job, you had your first live case, the death of an immigrant vampire down at the docks. Do you remember that one?”
How could she not? In the nearly six years she’d been working Major Crimes, it was one of only three cases that actually involved vampiric activity. On top of that, it was the hardest to solve. Unknown vampire, killed from a high fall after being bound. There was very little forensic evidence. Some rope fibers in the torn skin of his wrists and ankles, trace from the dock on his clothes, salt water covering the body, but none in the lungs. The only anomaly was a square patch of skin missing from his shoulder.
She’d stared at that file for hours every single night. There were no violently territorial vamps in New York City, no usual suspects to pick through. She’d even looked through all the case files for similar human signature killers, nothing. It was at that moment that she really questioned what she was doing, if she was really cut out for the job.
“Philippe found you in the records room one night, pouring over thirty different files on your hundredth cup of coffee.”
Lilith couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I hadn’t slept in… I think three days at that point. The file clerk was getting tired of digging cases up for me, but I just knew there had to be some connection.”
Gloria nodded with a soft smile that held just a tiny edge of sadness. “Philippe was so worried about you, bonita. He knew if you didn’t step back and get some perspective, that you’d run yourself right into the ground. Do you know about Pope, Philippe’s first partner?”
“Mark…no. Matthew Pope, right?” Gloria nodded with a vacant smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “His father was some big shot lawyer for Pharmacorp? I don’t know much. Alvarez never liked to talk about his past partners.” Lilith couldn’t stop the sudden smile from spreading across her lips. “He said it was too much like telling your girlfriend about your ex’es.”
A rich boom of laughter filled the air that lit genuine smiles on both of their faces. “That’s my Philippe all right, and yes, his father was a well-off attorney, but more importantly, he was an OCD perfectionist, the only thing he had in common with his son.”
“Ahh.” Lilith could see where this was going. An OCD detective that drove himself nuts trying to solve a case, just like she had almost done with the dock case and precisely what she was doing right now. Gloria was right, but this time was different. She wasn’t just trying to solve a case. She was trying to survive a superior organization who was in the midst of a deadly coup turned undead war, and she was stuck smack in the middle of it.
“Well, Pope caught his first and only case about a year into the job. Ultimately, it was just a mugging gone wrong, but Pope couldn’t see it. He just knew it had to do with the vampire community, it had to have some nefarious, deeper purpose. He lost perspective. He couldn’t see the crime outside the contexts of his own world, his own paranoia. He kept pushing and prodding into places he really shouldn’t have until someone got a little too tired of it. Philippe found him hanging from his rafter in his loft apartment. A staged suicide. If he’d only stepped back and looked at all the pieces without the supernatural element, it all could have been avoided.”
Not exactly what Lilith expected, but the sentiment was pretty much the same. Lilith sighed, but before she could even open her mouth, Gloria went on. “It was the same way with your dock case. You were convinced that it was some elaborate serial killer. After all, who else would want to kill a vampire and take a patch of skin as a trophy?”
Lilith frowned and settled into her seat. Gloria wasn’t wrong. She’d been obsessed with that case. Alvarez had even gone to Gregor, pleading for him to talk some sense into her. “Until we discovered his huge debt to the local loan shark, that he had a very distinctive tattoo on his shoulder, right where the patch was missing and his fingerprints were melted off. The shark’s men figured correctly that it would make an I.D. a lot harder, especially with a non-U.S. citizen. It had everything to do with his gambling habit and not his species.”
“Because we keep our genetics hidden so carefully, we have to consider mundane answers to questions sometimes, Lilith.”
“I understand, Gloria, but this…”
“Is different?” Gloria lifted an eyebrow and just stared at her like an expectant teacher. “It may be more complex than a mugging, but you are just like Pope right now. You’re rushing from danger to danger, pushing headlong right into disaster.”
“I’m not choosing this, Gloria.” An edge of defensive indignation rang in her voice but Gloria just ignored it.
“Why didn’t you call the station for backup before going to Haverty’s?”
Lilith blinked as her mouth hung open for a second, completely blind-sided. “This isn’t… they couldn’t… It’s not a case.”
“Because it’s personal? Does that make it any less of a vampire-community concern? Isn’t this exactly why you are employed within the police department?”
Lilith sunk into her chair, her shoulders feeling like lead weights as she became very aware of every single injury flaring to life. Each one was like a bloody reminder that Gloria was absolutely, 100% correct. If she’d treated this like a normal case, she could have limited Farren’s power, could have kept Timothy from dying, at least given them all a better chance.
“You’re right. I did exactly what Farren wanted me to do. I kept everything a secret and in return just gave him more control. Shit.” Lilith slammed her back into the chair in frustration and immediately regretted it as her whole left shoulder lit up like 4th of July fireworks. She closed her eyes as a wave of agony-induced nausea hit her.
“That’s why he killed Gregor.” Lilith’s eyes flew open in a mixture of shock, horror, and even a little anger. Gloria’s voice was softer now, carefully tip-toeing into the subject, testing the water. When her eyes met Lilith’s, she held firm, taking a deep breath and raising her chest, daring Lilith to fight her on this point.
“What?” Lilith shook her head which suddenly felt like it was permeated with a dense fog. The leap in logic was a little too much for her right now. Her frayed nerve endings refused to make the connection.
“Bonita, from what you have told me, Farren is a manipulator. He killed your father to make it personal, to scare you into keeping your secrets, to keep you unfocused. That way you wouldn’t turn to any outside help. He is afraid of our kind, afraid of what we could do to him.”
“Ashcroft.” Lilith felt the mental click. “He’s scared of what Gregor did to him. I thought for sure that he just wanted the power Ashcroft had, but something Cohen said… about his own past. I think Farren is too traditional to go to that extreme. He’s proud of his race and wants to keep it pure.”
“Good. Then who disagrees with him?”
Lilith frowned at the question. Her gut reaction was everyone, but it wasn’t a very helpful answer. “From what I understand, most of the council. If Farren was trying to keep the book away from the rest of the council and not just steal it for himself, then that makes everyone a suspect.” Lilith buried her face in her palms as a dull roar crept up the back of her neck into her brain.
“Why aren’t you a detective?” Lilith couldn’t help but chuckle half-heartedly.
Gloria flashed one of her signature warm smiles, patted Lilith’s hand and pulled herself up, crossing the kitchen for another cup of coffee. “Aww, bonita. I have no desire to chase bad guys. I watch after my girls and that is enough for me.” There was an edge to Gloria’s face as she sipped the steaming cup, her warm eyes suddenly hard.
Lilith pitied anyone who tried to mess with her daughters. Gloria was smart and more than capable. Her soft, middle-aged appearance was a carefully cultivated camouflage for the fiercely defensive mama bear lurking beneath the surface.
“Speaking of which, I need to pick them up from practice and drop Erica, Sofia and Rose at Olivia’s house. There’s an all ages costume party at the high school for the neighborhood tonight and a bunch
of the girls are getting ready at Olivia’s and then carpooling to the school. Erica was actually excited about handling her sister’s costumes. I figure it’s safer than the old door-to-door trick or treating, especially in light of what is going on.”
The sudden interjection of normal, everyday life felt so foreign to Lilith right in that moment. Usually, Halloween was the one holiday that Lilith actually braved the crowds of anonymous people to celebrate. It all came down to one simple truth: Lilith loved costumes. She always had more fun designing and creating her costume than she did at the actual parties.
Last year she’d created an elaborate black and hot pink cabaret girl costume that earned her some drunkenly awkward dances, 8 phone numbers she would never call, and one horrible cup of coffee at an all-night diner. This year she was just hoping to survive.
Lilith could see the proud glint in Gloria’s eye. Erica was a feisty sixteen year old and she was constantly butting heads with her mother, much like Lilith when she was her age. Erica taking a real interest in her younger sisters was a rare moment. Sofia was a brainy little eight year old and Rose was a quiet and sweet five year old. It was sobering, or perhaps depressing was a better word, to think that while her world was imploding the rest of the universe was continuing its normal existence like it always would.
“Stay here, Lily. Rest, re-group. I’ll do what I can to help when I return.” Gloria flashed a slightly sad smile as she tugged on a thick, grey sweater jacket that was two sizes too big. “I know the circumstances are dreadful, but… I’m glad you’re here.” The warmth in Gloria’s eyes accomplished more than the lukewarm cup Lilith was desperately trying to leech every last drop of comfort out of.
“Thank you, Gloria. You just don’t know how much that means to me right now.” Lilith could feel the tears prickling behind her eyes, but she refused to break down again. It wasn’t over yet. She was alive and as long as she could stay that way, she’d fight to figure this thing out.
Gloria nodded with a soft smile and grabbed her ancient, battered, Coach purse. The sight of the faded blue bag made Lilith laugh nostalgically. “When are you gonna finally retire that thing? I mean seriously, Gloria, you’ve sewn the handle back on how many times now?”
She clutched the bag closer to her with a proudly defiant look. “Four and it doesn’t matter. Philippe insisted on buying me this over-priced contraption for my birthday and I told him at the price he paid it better last forever. I’m going to see that it does, besides, I love the silly thing.”
Lilith had the feeling that she was talking more about Philippe and less about the once-blue purse. The true tragedy was that Philippe should have been right by her side forever, or at least longer than the damn purse.
Ashcroft hadn’t only taken a life in that basement when he sliced through Alvarez’s throat, he’d killed a large part of Gloria. She would never be truly whole again. It was like she was carrying the dead part of herself in that purse, hoping it would come back to life if she just kept it with her. Then again, maybe carrying your memories around in a tattered old purse was a way to keep the past alive. Who was she to judge? She sure as hell didn’t have any more than a tenuous grip on her own sanity these days.
Chapter 29
Lilith wandered into the living room of the silent house, pulling the warm memories around herself like a security blanket. Her olive eyes caught on the line of picture frames scattered across the mantle. A large photo of Gloria, Philippe and the girls dominated the center. They all had smiling faces, even Erica, which was fairly rare for the rebellious teen. Philippe had his arm proudly wrapped around Gloria’s shoulder while he held little Rose on his lap. His smile held all the warmth and humor she was used to. Lilith tentatively traced her fingers over that vibrant smile with tears in her eyes.
“Miss you, partner. I could sure use your help right now.” Lilith sighed heavily as she stared at the snapshot of the quiet, happy life that was torn apart forever. Gloria would never again kiss her husband and the girls would never again hug their father. Philippe’s death left a gaping hole in all their lives.
Lilith mentally flipped over all the dead faces of family and friends as she stepped away from the mantle. Too many holes. How many holes before there was nothing left of her or was it already too late? Maybe that’s why she had the nightmare about Chance. What if it had nothing to do with Peisinoe? What if it was really because she had nothing left inside to give? Perhaps it was simply her conscious, crippled with guilt for enjoying something when she was surrounded by so much tragedy.
The loud, ancient ring of the wall phone made Lilith nearly jump out of her skin. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and ran for the phone. Maybe it was Chance. Please, please let it be Chance. She couldn’t take another loss, especially not that one.
Lilith caught the receiver on the third ring and scooped it up with her good hand. “Hello? Chance?”
“I was so wrong. So damn wrong.” The tattered voice rattling through the receiver was almost unrecognizable. Lilith’s skin prickled, every little hair on her body rising on end as the sense of impending disaster began to creep its way in.
“Cohen? Is that you?”
“Get out of there, Lilith. Just go!” This time his voice was stronger, more familiar, but it didn’t soften her blooming panic.
“What the hell? You told me to stay put until you had a location on Helton. What is going on?”
“Don’t argue with me! Go anywhere, doesn’t matter where. Just leave! Now!”
Dread blossomed and hovered over her like a storm cloud ready to tear her to shreds in the clutches of a violent twister. The last time she’d received a panicked call like this from Cohen it had been a bad thing. A very, very bad thing.
“Cohen you have to give me something here…” Her voice was thin and shaky, praying he’d start laughing and shout ‘Just kidding!’ into the receiver.
“I swear to all that is holy! I’ll follow your ass to hell and kick it for the rest of eternity if you don’t shut the hell up and start moving! It’s not Helton! You hear me, Lilith? It’s not the fucking German! He’s dead!”
Lilith’s gut seized in a sudden cramp of fear, turning her blood ice cold in her veins. Before she could say anything, the front door slammed open and a paralyzing fear squeezed her muscles in a vice grip.
“Did you hear me? I said it’s not the German! I chased him down. He’s dead, Lilith. Torn to fucking pieces in his hotel room. You have to get out of there!”
Lilith struggled to breathe as she dropped the heavy receiver, leaving it dangling by its curly cord. She stared at the doorway to the living room while backing up into the kitchen. She knew in her twisted gut that she wouldn’t see Gloria or her battered blue purse. Her skin prickled painfully as she forced her clenched muscles to move.
Her eyes swung across the living room slowly before finally resting on the wide-open front door. Blood pounded in her ears, drowning out Cohen’s tiny screaming voice from the swaying phone.
Suddenly, a face growled into the doorway, mere feet from Lilith, pulling a scream from her throat. She scrambled backwards, knocking into one of the kitchen chairs before falling to the floor. She tried to break her fall, but with her left arm in a sling, she fell awkwardly on her hip. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible.
She backpedaled along the slick kitchen floor as Alvarez’s corpse lurched into the kitchen. His once warm, brown eyes were milky and vacant. His mouth hung open in an animalistic snarl that didn’t fit his face. His skin, which was once a warm tan, was now splotched with the blue and purple hues of early decay. The flap of skin under his chin from his sliced throat opened and closed with each move of his jaw like a ghastly second mouth. It was a sight straight out of her nightmares. It couldn’t be real. She had to be asleep. She had to be. It couldn’t be real.
Her mind kept skidding to a halt on that one thought, like a scratched record doomed to loop forever on the same note. Alvarez’s hollow shell suddenly broke out
of its slow motion zombie lurch and lunged for her. It was like a splash of ice water to the face. This was real. This was happening. Lilith fought to get back on her feet, stumbling several times and slamming her broken arm into a cabinet before she was successful. She ignored the dizzy waves of nausea that accompanied the spike of agony as her whole left arm throbbed. She needed to get out. She had to get out.
Lilith awkwardly scrambled for the back door, but was stopped short. An iron-strong grip snatched at her ankle and Lilith whirled back to see Philippe on the floor, his familiar face contorted in a rage that wasn’t his. It belonged to someone else, his controller, his master. No! This was not Philippe! This was just his shell, nothing more!
The hand tightened with bone popping strength, stealing Lilith’s breath. She wasn’t going to die here, not like this and not by the hands of her own deceased partner. She squeezed her eyes shut, envisioning the zombie with the caved in head from earlier and kicked with everything she had, over and over and over. Tears stung her closed eyes as ragged screams tore up her throat in guttural, soul-bearing cries. Bone crunching snaps and wet, squishy sounds filled the air as she kicked at the dead man. Hand, head, neck, it didn’t matter as long as he let go. The sounds just made her scream louder, trying to drown them out so they wouldn’t haunt her later.
Finally, Lilith broke free of the dead man’s grasp and fell to the floor from the momentum. She could hear bones rasping against the floor but she refused to look. She couldn’t. She pushed with everything she had left, forcing herself back to her feet and nearly colliding with the back door. Her hands slipped and trembled over the door lock anxiously as a gurgling moan sounded behind her. Don’t look, just run. She repeated over and over until she wrenched the back door open and then her heart seemed to just fall out of her chest, her breath stuck in her raspy throat.
Lilith stared right into a wide pair of deep blue eyes lit with a smug malevolence. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, they did. “Well, well. Fancy meeting you here.” The melodically lilting tones curled around her brain like red-hot razor wire. How the hell could she be alive?