Savanna climbed into John’s car and shut the door. She buckled her seatbelt, and turned to stare at Alexi through the window.
Go see them, came her voice.
Alexi smiled. I’ll think about it.
Savanna scrunched up her face and stuck out her tongue. Alexi laughed as they pulled away.
She watched them until their taillights disappeared around the corner. She ran her hands over the top of the bike, the windscreen, fuel tank, letting the sleek curves guide her while she thought.
She hadn’t had the time to go see them. That had been her excuse, all these months. At first, she didn’t even know who or where they were. And there was Dupree to worry about.
Then zombies. If that wasn’t a good excuse, she didn’t know what was.
Besides, she didn’t remember them. What would she say to people she didn’t know?
But at her heart, she knew that wasn’t entirely true.
She turned the ignition over, the high pitch roar of the engine greeted her. She spun the throttle and the high-performance machine shook as the rear tire spun on the pavement. Smoke poured out of the back for a moment before she took off like a bullet from a gun.
Alexi blinked away the tears as she tore through the neighborhood. Her reflexes matched perfectly with the bike. She pushed it further than a normal human could, flirting with the edge of grip and tolerance as she blasted through the tight corners.
She flew up the on-ramp, speeding through a steady throng of cars heading south. She leaned down as far as she could, bracing her booted feet against the highway pegs.
She gunned the throttle and watched the line blow past a hundred miles an hour.
Wind washed over her, creating a barrier of sound that nothing could pass. A quiet eye of the storm for her to lose herself in.
For a while now, ever since the night she cut her hair, emotions leapt up, unbidden. A sudden pang while flipping channels. A spike of anxiety when seeing a uniform.
There was something… stirring. Her heart remembered, even if her mind did not. She could almost feel her family, but she couldn’t remember them. That dissidence was unbearable.
And it was only getting worse.
Seattle exits popped up. Without putting much thought into it, she leaned over to take the Bainbridge island ferry exit. As though it were habit. The bike weaved through traffic with ease. She let the throttle off to slow down to less ludicrous speeds as the wide, straight freeway flowed into tight, corner laden streets. Even with her reflexes she couldn’t steer the bike through the tight twists and turns of surface streets at a hundred miles an hour.
She found the entrance to the ferry terminal easily enough. This late at night the brilliant lights to the opening could be seen for half a mile. She checked her phone for the time. The last ferry of the day would leave in a few minutes. She would have to drive back the long route, which was fine with her, the road went right through Tacoma, anyway.
Fifteen minutes later the bike was secured on the car deck. The boat wasn’t underway yet and since she was on a motorcycle she went to the front of the line. It occurred to her, while she leaned out over the railing, the only other time she had been on a boat was when they were going to stop Dupree.
The only time she remembered, anyway. She ran her hand along the wooden railing and wandered up to the bow of the ferry, as though that were the natural place for her to be.
As though she had done it before.
An older man in a brown long-coat stood at the bow, leaning against the railing with his elbows and staring down into the dark water.
She passed him silently, not wanting to interrupt his solitude. She stopped at the most forward point of the bow, fifty feet above the water, and looked out into the darkness of the bay, and the lights twinkling beyond.
Everything seemed like it had meaning in it. Or maybe that was just her mind searching for sense in a senseless world. In Heaven, where she knew she did not belong… and yet did… she had understood nothing. On Earth, she understood nothing. All of it—her entire existence up to this point—made no sense.
At least Victor was happy. It was strange to think of him as existing someplace else and not here. She had seen him, in the stadium, and Michael had confirmed it. Despite whatever terrible things he might have done in life, he had earned his place among angels…
Angels.
She couldn’t think of herself as one of them. Not really. Not with the monster she knew was inside her. Would it be any easier to think of herself as a daughter? As a mother? She rubbed her face and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to make sense of her life.
She looked down at the bay, and then out at the island that was their destination. The ferry crossing would take under an hour, and she felt her nerves take hold. When had she even made the decision to go? It was as if fate pulled her to this moment.
A familiar feeling crept into her, overtaking her before she realized what was happening. Whispers of forgotten moments flashed through mind. Memories? They wavered, hazy and tantalizingly out of reach. She grasped for them but they were gone. All they left behind were silent tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Miss?” The older gentleman next to her held out a little package of tissues. Something she imagined a grandma might carry around in her purse.
Part of her resented him for the intrusion, and part of her was deeply grateful. She offered him a weak smile, and took two tissues. Tears came away along with dark smudges of makeup.
“It’s lonely up here sometimes,” the man said staring out over the water. “Gives a person time to recollect and think. Sometimes that’s a good thing, and sometimes not.”
She didn’t know what to say to him. The ferry blew its horn to announce the departure. It lurched forward as the ship detached from the dock. Massive engines revved, sending the water churning as she began to move.
“Do you ride the ferry often?” he asked.
“Not in a while. You?” She glanced over at him. His face was half hidden in the darkness, but she saw the sadness in the smile that crossed his face.
“Every night,” he whispered.
Alexi peered at the man’s face. There was nothing familiar in his features. Nothing. But… something about him nagged at her.
“I used to come up here with my daughter, almost every day,” he said. “This spot was her favorite. She would always leave me behind to run up here to see where we’re going. She loved looking forward.” He was quiet for a moment. “That was a long time ago.”
“She sounds like a good kid.” Alexi grasped at words, feeling strange talking to a stranger. Odd… but somehow not in a bad way.
“She was.”
The quiet finality of the man’s voice was punctuated by the past tense he used.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”
He smiled up at her, she could see his whole face for the first time. He was handsome, in a roguish, older-fellow sort of way. Dark eyes and a strong chin.
“It’s okay, I wouldn’t have said anything if I hadn’t already made my peace with it. As much as you can, anyway, when you don’t know what happened.”
A sharp pang struck through her, and she thought of the Pos.
“She spent six years in the service, deployed to god-knows-where.” The man seemed like he needed to speak the words… as though they were heavy. “Every day, we thought it could be her last. She was a medic, and we were so proud of her. Out there, saving lives. She was always like that. Always looking out for people. Even strangers.”
A fist clenched around her heart. “Why did she get out? It sounds like she loved it.”
“Oh, she did. She was a Ranger, and that was everything to her. Except…” He gave a quiet chuckle. “She was an enigma, that girl. Pretty in a dress. Loved shopping and makeup and all that stuff… and took to the uniform like she was born to it. She worked ten times as hard as anyone else. Rangers don’t take just anyone. You’ve got to be special. It’s why she got her tab.” He ges
tured toward his shoulder.
Alexi gripped the railing.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“A little seasick. It’s not bad.”
“It’s funny, I never talk about this stuff to anyone. I don’t know why I’m suddenly sharing with a stranger. I hope I’m not a bother.”
She looked at him again. Forcing herself to search his face. To see him with other eyes. Her old eyes.
The eyes that knew him.
“You’re not a bother,” Alexi whispered. Half of her wanted him to keep talking, and the other half wanted to run away.
“Did she… pass away in service?” Her voice shook. She might be wrong. He might just be some kind man she met on the ferry. Nothing more.
“No, she mustered out… three years ago, now. Almost four. She met another soldier. Malcom. A good guy. A good guy. They say a father never thinks any man is good enough for his daughter, but he came awfully close. Anyway. They got married and wanted to start a family. The Army isn’t the best place to raise a baby. Mal stayed on.” He shook his head. “Poor Mal, rest his soul. She hadn’t been working at the VA for a week when the news came. I thought she’d never smile again. She must have cried an ocean.”
Alexi looked down at her left hand, half expecting to see a ring she had somehow never noticed.
“Not a month later, she found out she was pregnant. I think that’s what gave her the will to carry on. She never forgot him, but she decided to look forward.”
“What’s her daughter’s name?”
“Sydney.” His face suddenly lit up. “A real firecracker, that one. Just like her mother at that age. Always getting into everything. Trying to understand everything at once.”
Sydney.
The name carried with it no memories, but a sudden warmth bloomed inside her.
“Alexi disappeared a little over a year ago,” the man whispered, and as he spoke her name, she felt as though all the breath had been stolen from her body.
It hadn’t been real. Not until he said it.
“They never found a body,” he said, voice almost too quiet to hear. “They found a lot of her blood beside her car, though. A lot. They told us she couldn’t have lived. Couldn’t have—” The man’s voice broke. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said, hoping he couldn’t hear the tears in her voice.
She wanted to say it. To tell him. To say, Dad, it’s me.
But she couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come out.
What would she do, then? Go home? Be a mom? Work at the V.A. again? Be… normal?
And by the way, if I can suck your blood occasionally, that would be great.
A wave of grief washed over her.
There was no going home again. Violence and Chaos seemed to follow her, like a stray dog. And one day, if she wasn’t killed first, she’d have to bury everyone she loved… and then, live on, never changing.
“Thanks for listening to an old man,” he said. “When so many words have been said among your own friends and family… too many… it’s nice to talk to someone who’s never heard it before.”
She only nodded, unable to speak.
He turned his head to smile at her, and for the first time, their eyes met. Was there a glimmer of recognition there? She couldn’t tell.
“I should get inside. Can’t chase after a four-year-old if I’m sick. And you be safe, okay? It isn’t safe to be alone in this city.”
Tell him. A heartbeat, and then another, loud in her ears.
Tell him.
Tell him.
The moment passed. His steps echoed on the metal deck, and then the hatch closed.
Alexi leaned forward over the rail and cried into the darkness.
“You’re taking all of this pretty well in stride, Detective,” John said. “I’m impressed.”
They were in Detective Summers’ car, parked outside the last place they knew to look. Li had given them the name of the restaurant they met the man in, but it was a place neither of them knew, and it turned out to be a dead end. Li wasn’t lying—John was a good enough at his job to realize that. But maybe the memory itself was an illusion.
John and Christa had gambled on their memory of the food, though. There were only two Indian restaurants with authentic garam masala. The wait staff had recognized Sara and Li. Now they needed to see if they recognized anyone else.
Detective Summer shrugged. “Well, John. I’ve seen a lot of weird, honestly. It almost makes sense that this sort of thing is real.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Seeing it, though. That’s a hell of a thing.”
John knew exactly what she meant. He shifted in his seat. The heat of the day was beating down on them.
He was off duty, and out of his jurisdiction, but he still had his piece. Luckily, he had plenty of leave saved up from the incident. Detective Summers was on duty, in black slacks, a white blouse, and a suit jacket. She carried her 9mm on her side in a quick draw holster.
If this were any other time in his life, he would seriously think about asking her out. She was attractive. And obviously good at her job, which made her doubly attractive. Somehow, that appealed to him more than anything else.
He had Alexi, though. Right? They saw each other on a regular basis. Hell, the last time he had stayed at her place they had made out until the sun came up. Like a couple of teenagers. She was pretty guarded, though. Not willing to let him in any farther than that. But… he was willing to take the time. She’d open up when she was ready.
“Did you lose anyone when… you know… the thing happened?” She asked suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. John didn’t know what to call it either, and almost everyone he knew was similarly unable.
“Friends,” he said with a pang of sadness. “A lot of friends.” The Force had so many funerals, more in one year than John had seen in a lifetime. “You?”
It was her turn to shake her head, “No. Not really.”
What had happened in Seattle was common knowledge, but no one talked about it. They rebuilt the city, cleaned up the streets, scrubbed the blood from every surface and then proceeded to pretend like none of it happened. All the memorials and funerals focused on the individuals and their bravery. No one spoke about why they died, or how.
He imagined it would be like that for any major disaster. People were eager to move on. There was a danger in being stuck in the past, stuck in grief. But this was something beyond even that. The absolute horror of what had happened… Who could face that? No one wanted to be the one to say it.
They all watched the emperor ride by in his new clothes, and no one could say a thing.
Movement caught his eye. Almost as one, they reached for the field glasses.
“Sorry.” John let go of the binoculars, letting her have them. “Habit.”
She smiled. “I’m sure.” She brought the magnifying glasses up and looked through them at the man who had just left the restaurant. “Might match what the wait staff remembered.”
“Let’s see what the owner says.”
Sure enough, a few seconds later, an elderly Indian man walked out of the restaurant and twisted his towel to squeeze out the water, then went back inside.
That was the signal. Whatever spell the creature put on the Pos, he didn’t bother with it in his favorite restaurant.
John and Christa opened their doors simultaneously. They weren’t going to confront him, but they needed to know where he was going.
Downtown Marysville was something out of a Hallmark card. Brightly colored buildings, scenic walkways, and tree lined streets.
“This seems like an unusual place for a criminal enterprise,” he whispered to her as they turned the corner. On the far side of the street were three office buildings, all painted in the faux German colors that made up much of the towns buildings.
“You’re telling me. Our crime rate isn’t exactly high. Look, he went in there.” She nodded her head in the direction of the second building.
John grabbed her h
and. If they didn’t want to raise suspicion it would be best to look like they belonged. They smiled and talked as they crossed the street and walked down the block.
Once they were past the office and out of earshot of passersby.
“Damn it,” John muttered once they were past the office, and out of earshot of any passersby. “He would have to be a lawyer, wouldn’t he?”
“What’s the next step? Without any evidence, we can’t go to a judge with nothing but a good curry to go by. And a bunch of other crazy stuff I’m still not sure I believe.”
“Now we call Alexi,” John said. “After that… well, we don’t want to know about that.”
“And if she does something to ruin my case? How am I going to explain this?”
He smiled as he drew his phone from his pocket. “She’s not going to ruin anything. When you return my niece, it will be case closed and you can fudge the details a little. We’ll think of something good.”
Christa pressed her lips hard together. “You better be right.”
“This is silly,” Savanna said to Alexi for the tenth time. Currently, Alexi had had her bike parked outside a rec center on the east side. It was part of a nice neighborhood, attached to several small offices. The brick building had thick wooden doors at the entrance that gave it a medieval look.
“You need people you can talk shop to,” Alexi said again. “And it wouldn’t kill the world for there to be more witches that are… well, like you. And less like your mom.”
There was no arguing there. Still… her last coven—her last two covens—had ended in utter disaster. All dead. And all because of her.
“This is a mistake,” she whispered, panic rising up. “Let’s go.”
One of the large wooden doors opened and Caitlin stuck her smiling face out. Her eyes lit up when she saw Savanna and couldn’t stop herself from waving.
“Come on, we’ve been waiting for you,” she called over to her.
Well, she was trapped, now. Despite what the woman had said about her clothes… she liked Caitlin. It was hard not to. There was no sense of superiority in her, despite Savanna’s worn shoes and jeans.
Wreathed in Flame (Faith of the Fallen Book 3) Page 5