I reached for my bottle of painkillers and downed the correct dosage with several sips of water. Just as I was contemplating waking Mrs. Russell to help her get in a more comfortable position, Cole and Eleanora returned. Cole didn’t seem to care that he was missing work. Eleanora had a much more flexible schedule, being retired, and she immediately went to the kitchen, letting me know she was going to start another batch of cookies.
Cookies sounded good. They really did. I’d probably lost five pounds over the last week, which definitely was not my goal, since it generally meant I was losing muscle. I have the type of body where muscles flee at the first sign of trouble. Traitors.
With a wave and a promise to return the next day, Mrs. Russell headed home, and I realized they’d arranged schedules ahead of time.
Another day passed with me barely being aware of my surroundings or the fact that Eleanora kept giving me cookies. She and Cole helped me to the bathroom as I needed it, with Eleanora assisting me in perching on the toilet while Cole waited outside. I was too out of it to be embarrassed or even grateful apart from just a simple thanks. I couldn’t wait until my stomach muscles could support me without horrible waves of pain spiking across my torso. Who knew walking depended so much on healthy ribs?
Eleanora and Cole waved off my weak attempts to get them to go home. Eleanora couldn’t help me physically as much as Cole, but she insisted that us being alone together wasn’t appropriate. I chuckled at that. Like anything could happen while I had broken ribs. Still, I appreciated her presence nonetheless. It made things less awkward.
Cole and Eleanora stayed the night, helping me get to my bed, my wonderful, amazing, and comfortable bed. It was the first time I’d slept in it in over a week. Not surprisingly, I drifted off immediately. Eleanora awakened me once or twice to give me medications, and as a result, I got much-needed rest.
The next morning, with Cole and Eleanora’s help, I made it to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, staring at myself in the mirror. I looked so stoned, it wasn’t even funny. Dark rings under my eyes, my hair was a horrible mess—greasy, snarly, and frizzy—and my eyes looked nothing like me. I rested my good hand on the countertop, forcing myself to recognize what was happening. Yes, I was in an extreme amount of pain, and that wasn’t about to go away anytime soon. But Lord Kenan was out there. And the hounds, too. I couldn’t afford to have my judgment and my ability to reason taken away just for the sake of comfort. Not only that, but I could barely feel and recognize the Shade Amulet. Too much was at risk.
I picked up the prescription bottle and studied the very uninformative label. Narcotics clouded my mind so much. Everything I did had a delay. My actions were sluggish, and my brain was tired and foggy. This was not good. I took a deep breath, wincing as the pain flooded my system. The meds Eleanora had helped me take during the night were starting to lose their edge.
Regardless of the pain I knew I’d be in, I vowed I wouldn’t take another narcotic if I could help it. I needed to be as alert as possible so I could warn my friends and loved ones if danger approached.
Chapter Six
Decision made, I called out for Eleanora and Cole to help me to the living room, where I popped ibuprofen and Tylenol and sat on the couch to watch House reruns until the fuzziness in my brain started to disappear. I knew it would be a while before I got all my cognitive abilities back, but I was able to speak and think clearly enough by around noon to have Cole help me put together a plate of cookies to take over to the Russells.
Mrs. Russell eyed me with her matronly gaze. “Go back to bed, Lizzie,” she commanded.
I couldn’t even laugh—it hurt too much. “Yes, ma’am.” Even just thanking her for caring for Sia had exhausted me. I could barely breathe, and my stupid ribs were sending stabs of agony through my chest.
Rather than return to the house, though, I sent Eleanora a quick text and had Cole help me to his car. It took a little bit of convincing, but he drove me to the police station up on State Street. I wanted to get the names of the families who had been attacked while I’d been gone. I felt strongly that I needed to apologize to them. Chief was right—if I’d been there, their loved ones wouldn’t have died.
While we were driving, Cole kept glancing at me. Finally, exasperated, I looked at him. “What’s up? You’ve obviously got something on your mind. Spill it.”
Cole gave an exaggerated sigh. “Yes, I do.” He sent me a glance that only served to annoy me.
I motioned for him to go on, trying not to get impatient.
“What’s going on with the other guy?”
A flash of irritation flooded my system. “We’ve discussed this.” Several times. I knew I was being short with him, but I really had no desire to hash out the conversation yet again. I’d told him multiple times that I wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship with him. I really liked Cole, but he was coming to remind me more of my brothers than he did a potential boyfriend. I don’t know when that started, but it’s never a good sign when it does.
“I know.” He exhaled loudly. “But where is he right now? Why am I the one who’s helping you get around? Don’t get me wrong—I don’t mind. I just can’t help but wonder.”
“He’s got other jobs to do.”
“So do I. And it’s not stopping me.”
I folded my arms, wincing at the resulting pain, and glared out the window. “I have no idea where he is. He’s not my boyfriend. Yes, I would like to see where things go with him, and I think he feels the same. But we haven’t had the chance to do anything normal people do when starting a relationship.” I sighed. “Besides, now is not the best time to be making dating choices. And now is also not the best time for me to be putting any sort of expectancy on him or demanding that he stick around constantly. I mean, we were together for nearly a week straight! He saved my life multiple times while we were traveling. He deserves a break and a bit of patience.”
Cole gripped the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. “I would’ve done the same thing.”
I tried to tuck my impatience aside. Cole and I had only been on one date and had barely talked on a professional level before that. What he felt was infatuation—love for an idea that only existed in his mind. I really didn’t think he would feel this way if he truly knew me. Something told me he needed stability in the woman he ended up with, and that was something I definitely hadn’t ever offered, nor could I.
I reached over with my good hand, briefly touching his arm. “The point is, Cole, I didn’t ask you to. I hugely appreciate what you’re doing. I hope you’re not doing it with strings attached, though. Please, please understand. I think the world of you, but I don’t want to lead you on.”
“I do understand. However, no one else is here to take care of you.”
I was painfully aware of that fact. And though I was tempted to defend Abel again, I didn’t. It made me irritated with Cole for being so blunt when all he’d ever shown me was kindness. And new irritation with Abel for not telling me where he’d gone.
With Cole’s help, I got out of the car at the police department and entered Chief’s office. He argued with me for a couple of minutes, saying the information was private, and I threatened to pull out my badge and tell him I had a right—as a Fire Impeder—to visit these families and apologize. He finally relented and handed over the info.
Cole and I returned to my house and ate a late lunch with Eleanora. She was content to putter around my home, putting things back in place and ignoring my wishes that she just watch TV and relax. I smiled fondly at the elderly woman. I was so blessed to have her in my life. I ached, though, to get out and be the one helping other people again. To do my job and to repay the kind acts that had surrounded me lately.
I dosed up on Tylenol and ibuprofen again, then forty-five minutes later, once the medication had time to settle in, I had Cole take me to the first victim’s house.
Chapter Seven
The visit was painful, and not just physically. Mrs. Lawrence, the
wife of the man who’d been killed, answered the door and started sobbing when I explained who I was. I couldn’t help but cry too as she led me into the living room where a two-year-old and a six-year-old sat, waiting and watching with big eyes.
“Tell me about your family and your late husband,” I said after apologizing and explaining I’d been out of the country when the shooting happened.
She started talking, the topic of her four children distracting her from her fresh pain. I looked around, nodding at appropriate times, noting my surroundings. The house was comfortable, though small. Her husband had just accepted a promotion at the local rock refinery. They’d planned to finish their basement soon and were hoping to try for another baby. My heart ached as I looked at the pictures of their sweet family that lined the wall in front of me. Her husband was an Arete, and their Arete son would no longer have a dad to show him the ropes and help him learn what it meant to be magical.
So horrible.
Once Mrs. Lawrence finished and I’d apologized again for not being there when her husband needed it, I took her by the hand. “Karen, I’d like to do something for you, if you’ll allow it.”
She gave me a shaky smile. “What is it?”
“I’d like to cover the costs of the funeral, and,” I rushed to continue, “any other expenses that have occurred because of his passing.”
Even if it means helping pay for his kids’ graduations.
Mrs. Lawrence’s eyes bugged. “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly allow you to do that.”
Cole was staring at me, his eyebrows so high, they almost met his hairline. I ignored him.
“I insist. Please. It’s the least I can do. If it weren’t for me, your husband would still be alive.”
I knew that things were tight—her clothes were frayed, and their furniture had seen many years of use. Without him to help support their family, what would happen to her and the children? And funerals are expensive. I mean, really expensive.
She resisted for a bit longer, but I could tell it was because she was being polite, and it wasn’t hard for me to convince her to at least let me pay for some of the expenses. She refused to allow me to set up a fund for the kids or to save money for their college, saying she had family who would help with that sort of thing.
After exchanging gentle hugs and promises to be in touch later, Mrs. Lawrence and her two children said goodbye, and Cole assisted me out to the car. The moment we were buckled in, he sent me another incredulous expression.
“Why on earth are you covering her husband’s funeral expenses? Lizzie, are you out of your mind? Do you know how much a funeral even costs? They’re thousands!”
“You’re not going to talk me out of this. If I’d been there, her husband wouldn’t have died.”
He shook his head, starting the engine. “That’s not true. He might’ve died anyway. Fire Impeders still make mistakes—and a bullet could’ve gotten through.”
“Are you trying to make me feel worse? I know I make mistakes. I know bullets slip by sometimes. In those cases, I would still insist on paying for the funeral.”
He growled, pulling onto the street. “You can’t do it. It’s stupid. And no one expects you to.”
“Again, you aren’t going to convince me.”
Cole glowered, staring straight ahead as he drove. Once I got inside my house, I insisted that he and Eleanora resume their lives. That they go back to their own homes. I was still in a great deal of pain, but it would last for weeks, not days, and I needed to learn to be independent and take care of myself again. Besides, I was so tired of constantly being surrounded by people. I hadn’t been alone in a long time—over a week, at least. If they didn’t leave, I swear, I’d scream.
They promised to check in on me later. I carefully and slowly made my way to my bedroom, grateful that my feet were healthy, and tucked myself into bed. It was difficult, yes, but not impossible, and I ended up sleeping for twelve hours.
I awakened to the sound of someone pounding on my door, jolting me from the deep sleep I’d entered.
Chapter Eight
I sat up quickly, then cried out at the resulting pain. Breathing through it, I forced myself to focus on other things. The sun was bright outside, and I guessed that it was probably around nine in the morning. The pounding started again, and once I’d gotten my breath back, I hobbled to the front door, wincing at the pain it caused to move even that far. I looked through my window and felt like sobbing in relief when I saw my parents on the other side.
I pulled the door open, and my mom, Brenda, rushed in and almost threw her arms around me before hesitating. She settled for cupping my face in her hands.
“Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie! My dear girl. Why didn’t you tell us? We would have been here immediately!”
My father, Justin, nodded in agreement.
I gave them a feeble smile, struggling to control my tears, and stepped aside, letting them enter. “Who told you?”
“We received calls from both Chief O’Hare and Eleanora,” Brenda said.
“You’ve got quite a support team here.” Justin looked around my house, and I saw his eyes noting the furniture that was still slightly disheveled and the tracks of mud that Eleanora hadn’t been able to get to. The poor woman. I knew the marks had driven her insane, but her body didn’t allow her to get on her hands and knees. I’m not embarrassed to say I didn’t actually own a mop. I preferred to clean my floors using wet rags.
Brenda settled me onto the couch and started whipping up breakfast, insisting that I relax while she and my dad completely took over the house. I was totally okay with that. I melted into the cushions, letting the stress and frustration roll off my shoulders.
My contentment and happiness in seeing my parents was short-lived, though, when I realized that having them there was the worst idea anyone had ever come up with. The protections Alexander had put around my house weren’t in place anymore, and it wouldn’t take long for the hounds to find out people I cared for were there. They would serve as fuel against me. I knew they weren’t safe in my house, and I feared for them when they returned to their own. But maybe I could get them out soon enough for the hounds not to notice.
I got my mom’s attention when she wheeled my vacuum cleaner into the living room. “So . . . you and Dad might not want to stay very long.”
“Nonsense. Where’s the nearest outlet?”
I pointed to the only empty one near the window. “Seriously. It’s not safe for you to be here. Not for me, and not for you.”
“And having you here alone like this is safe?” She leveled a glare at me only a mom could produce. “Look, honey. I know you’re stressed. And I know your job puts you in the path of dangerous people—” She held up her hand when I opened my mouth to respond. “And not just criminals. Dangerous people—creatures—like the ones you and Nicole found a while back.” Brenda dropped my vacuum cleaner’s handle and put her hands on her hips. “I don’t care. We’re not leaving until we know you’re better. Let them try to get at me . . . This Texas woman will show them a thing or two.”
I couldn’t help it. I smiled. My mom was amazing. “Okay, Mom. I know—you’re tough. But these creatures are even tougher. And they’ll use you against me.”
“Then don’t let them.”
I rolled my eyes. “Right. Like I could possibly allow you to be tortured.” Just the thought made me cringe. Memories of what Abel had gone through flashed into my mind. How much would my parents and siblings endure before I gave in? Not much, that was for sure.
Justin entered the living room and took the vacuum cleaner from where my mom had dropped it, turning it on and effectively ending the conversation as he pushed the machine back and forth over my threadbare carpet. Brenda walked to the kitchen to continue breakfast. After an hour, the house was spotless, and we all sat down to bacon, sausage, and biscuits and gravy.
Now that the narcotics were nearly out of my system, my appetite had returned, and I dug in enthusiastically. My pa
rents were seriously amazing. I had to hold back tears as we dropped into companionable silence. I loved Eleanora and I appreciated Cole, but nothing beat having family in town.
I was only able to relax for a little while, though. The pain was hard to handle, yes, but more than that, my thoughts kept returning to the hounds and the danger my parents were in by being there.
Could my enemies see through time? Or did they actually have to be present in my house? I had no idea. Those were the sort of things I wish Alexander had told me.
“We’re staying the week,” Brenda said, smiling at me as I took a second helping of biscuits and gravy. “Dad got off work, and we’d been meaning to visit for a while.”
Though I nodded and maintained a straight face, my panic levels rose several notches. What was I going to do?
The moment I got the chance, I gave my best friend, Nicole, a call. I quickly told her about my parents’ visit.
“What do I do?” I asked. “I need to contact Alexander. I can’t tell my parents more than I already have, and they’re not recognizing the danger they’ve put themselves in by coming.”
I heard Nicole sigh on the other end. “I have no idea what to tell you, honestly. I definitely see why you’re concerned, though. Loved ones and these hounds don’t mix well.”
She was speaking from experience, I was sure.
Nicole continued. “I’m glad you called me back. What happened last week?”
I felt like slapping my forehead. Chief wasn’t the only one who’d tried to reach me while I’d been in Iraq and India. I filled her in on the missing part of the amulet and the task I’d had to complete to get it back.
“That’s . . . insane, Lizzie.”
“I know.”
“How is Abel doing?”
“He’s not here. I haven’t seen him since he dropped me off at the hospital earlier this week.” A flash of irritation flooded me before I reminded myself about what I’d told Cole earlier. Even though I’d realized recently that I loved Abel, I wasn’t technically in a relationship with him, and he wasn’t obligated to keep me constantly updated on his whereabouts.
Crimson Hollow Page 3