Preparing to run and get the others, Rocky gripped Charlie in her arms, but almost as soon as the shaking had begun, it stopped.
When Nina released her fist, she let out a long groan, as though it had hurt to have her muscles so bunched up.
“Mistress Nina? What happened?” Arch asked, running to the table to pull out a chair as Hudson threw her arm around his shoulder and pulled her toward it.
He sat her down with care, kneeling in front of her, his voice calm. “Nina? Tell me what’s going on.”
She managed to lift her hand, though her movements were jerky and forced, and popped open her fist with a violent shake of her head. “This. The fucking second I touched it, I…”
Hudson took the chain from her hand, his eyes wide. “That’s my chain. I lost it when I jumped out the window.”
Nina rolled her head on her neck, the bones cracking, and then straightened her spine, her eyes looking almost haunted. “That shit’s been hit by some nasty magic, dude. I don’t know what the fuck that means, but I felt it. Just like I smelled the spell. It deflected some ugly magic and whoever hit you with it wants you dead.”
Chapter 10
“Me?” Hudson sat back on his haunches in obvious astonishment. “How do you know?”
Nina hopped up from her chair, her pale face hard as she shook her finger. “Listen, I’m part witch. Like I told the reaper, it’s a long story, but long story short, I have the ability to cast spells—sort of. I have a shitty wand that I’m even shittier at using, but along the way, since I was turned, I’ve noticed some stuff that enhances my vampire senses—and feeling shit like this is one of them. That necklace, your necklace, was hit with some kind of spell meant for your ass, Birdman. Essentially, it saved you.”
Rocky sat Charlie in her high chair, sprinkling more Cheerios on the tray before dropping a kiss on her downy, soft head. “So you’re sure someone wants to kill him?”
“I’m goddamn positive. Whoever zapped that necklace is full of some serious venom for your ass, buddy. So who have you pissed off lately?”
Now Hudson reached for the table, bracing himself against the surface as he took a seat. “I have no idea. I haven’t had so much as an argument with anyone in years.”
Rocky’s heart began to pound in her chest. “Hold on. Where were you when Marty was attacked last night? Were you in your bedroom or in the sitting room with me?”
His head popped up and he cocked it in question. “In the sitting room with you. I fell asleep on the couch and your screams woke me up. Where are we going with this?”
“And you were in the bar the night Marty had the stroke and heart attack, right? A stroke and heart attack I’ve had a gut feeling from the beginning should not have put her on the list of souls for reaping,” Rocky said, hearing the accusation in her tone, but unable to stop.
No. Hudson couldn’t be a part of this, could he?
No. Why would he want Marty dead?
She dismissed the thought almost as instantly as she’d thought it. He’d done nothing but take care of her from the start.
However, Hudson lifted his square chin, his nostrils flaring. He’d obviously heard the tone in her voice. “What exactly are you saying?”
She ignored his question as her mind raced and she remembered something else. “But Marty was on the list!” Rocky yelled before something else hit her square in the face. “Waitwaitwaitwaitwait! Hold up. I didn’t check the list before I left to do the reap. I only looked at the location for pickup. Maybe Marty’s name didn’t go on the list until the second Hudson was missed and Marty was hit?”
Hudson stood up, towering over her. “But how can that be? You said it yourself, she’s an immortal, Rocky. Why would her name go on the list at all?”
“Except for that one small technicality. Marty’s half-human!” she yelled, making poor Charlie jump. She scooped Charlie up out of the high chair and began bouncing her as she walked, rubbing circles on the baby’s back. “The half of her that’s human must have triggered something in the cosmos and added her name to the list.”
Nina’s eyes narrowed as she also began to pace the length of the kitchen’s hardwood floor. “So you think the hit was meant for Birdman? Like, someone wants him dead, not Marty?” she asked, her voice rising.
The blood in Rocky’s veins went icy cold, but the excitement of having a clue kept her mind racing. “It adds up, doesn’t it? A spell, one maybe from a witch, if we’re to believe that’s where the majority of spells come from, and an attempt on what we thought was Marty’s life. But maybe it was a failed attempt on Hudson’s life?” She gasped as all the dots began to connect. “Who would want somebody like you dead?”
He looked them all in the eye, dead on and direct. “As I stand here in front of you, I can’t think of anyone who’d want me dead for any reason.”
“And I believe you. But you’ve lived a lot of lives, Hudson,” Rocky reminded him, grabbing the sippy cup of whatever Charlie drank from the fridge and giving it to her. “Maybe something happened in one of those lives? Maybe you pissed someone off. I mean, how would you know? You can’t remember anything about your prior lives. You said so yourself.”
Nina looked at them both, bewildered. “Wait, you’re fucking reborn over and over, live for five hundred years at a time, but you don’t remember any of your lives?”
Arch pulled off his jacket. “This feels like the appropriate time for comfort food,” he said, setting off deeper into the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets.
Hudson rasped out a breath before he sat back down at the table. “So all of this could be because of me? But her coma…”
Rocky shook her head. “Listen, that may well be a valid state. Maybe this really is all medical—or maybe some of whatever this magic is caught her, too, and she’s in a state of…I dunno, stasis or…something. I’m just spitballing ideas.”
Sure, it sounded crazy when she said it out loud, but hello, what in this world of the paranormal didn’t sound crazy?
“What kind of crazy sci-fi shit is that?” Nina scoffed with a pop of her lips, taking Charlie from Rocky and handing her to Darnell, who’d lumbered into the room.
“What are y’all down here cookin’ up?” he asked, his wide, cheerful face full of interest.
Nina dropped a kiss on her little girl’s cheek and gave her a quick hug. “I’m gonna go get everybody else. We need as many heads in this game as we can get.”
As she took off to gather everyone, Rocky looked to Hudson, who sat totally still in the chair, as confused as he’d been since seeing the necklace.
Guilt ate at her, guilt and sorrow, because if what they thought ended up being true, he was at the center of all this. Knowing what she knew about him, she knew the mere idea would tear him up.
Now it was her turn to ask, “Hudson? Are you okay?”
He moved his head slowly, clearly still shaken. “I don’t know what to say. If this is about me, then I have to find out how to right this, Rocky. I can’t be the cause of Marty’s condition. If this is my fault…”
Reaching out, she softened and gripped his hand, hating that it felt so good when he entwined her fingers with hers and loving it at the same time. “We don’t know that for sure, Hudson. Let’s do some research and figure it out. I know we can figure something out.”
His voice was ragged, pained when he responded, “How can we figure out a woman being in a coma because of me, Rocky? What’s to figure out?”
Kneeling in front of him, she brushed his dark hair from his face, loving the lush feel of the strands. “Because OOPS always figures it out. They always do, and if they don’t, I will. Someone will,” she whispered fiercely. “Now, let’s get on my laptop, you get on yours, and we’re going to start googling you. Maybe you don’t think you have a footprint on the Internet, but plenty of places like country records and all sorts of official places do.”
“Google me? How is that going to help?”
“Because there’s got to b
e some evidence a Hudson Khalil came into existence at some point, and if there is, I’m going to find it.”
Six hours, an amazing meal of truffle mac and cheese, fall-off-the-bone baby-back ribs, creamy mashed potatoes, roasted Brussels sprouts, four bottles of wine and some gooey rice pudding with raisins later, Rocky pushed her chair away from the table with an exhausted sigh.
The children had all gone off to listen to Carl read stories and play blocks with them as the adults gathered round the table, each with a laptop, and began to look for any evidence of Hudson’s existence other than at the hospital where he now worked.
Greg’s head popped up, his deep eyes capturing hers from across the table. “You okay, Rocky? Need a break?”
But she shook her head. She was here for the duration. “No. No, I’m fine. Here’s what I don’t get, Hudson. How have you avoided social media? I mean, who doesn’t have a Facebook page? Who doesn’t want to post a picture of what they had for lunch?”
Hudson laughed. “Maybe because I mostly only eat hospital food? Who wants to see a picture of wilted salad and a dry baloney sandwich?”
Archibald filled Hudson’s glass with more wine. “We must rectify that, good sir. I shall begin preparing weekly meals for you to stock your freezer. I simply can’t bear the idea you eat nothing more nourishing than baloney—dry, no less. It’s unseemly.”
Hudson tilted his glass in gratitude. “That’s not necessary. You have more than enough to take care of with this crew. I choose to eat at the hospital because I’m there a lot, and that’s my own fault.”
Arch scoffed at him. “I’d be insulted if you didn’t accept, Master Hudson. After all you’ve done for our Marty? I’ll not hear absolutely anything but ‘here’s a copy of the key to my apartment’ for an answer.”
Hudson smiled warmly at him. “Thanks, Arch. That’s more than kind, and more than I deserve.”
“Hey.” Rocky nudged him, leaning in on her fist. “Does your name change every time you come back or is it always the same?”
“Pretty sure it’s always the same. In fact, it was the same after I came back the last time because I ran into someone at a store who recognized me and called me by my name. Said we went to classes together in med school—forty-five years ago.”
Sympathy washed over her like a tidal wave. How awful to always be without a past—without any roots. “Was he human or paranormal?”
“Um, demon, if I remember right,” Hudson confirmed.
“Okay, so what about the rest of your fucking life, boo? Like your house, cars, your GD toaster, all that shit? You must leave some kind of evidence you existed, right?” Nina asked with a scowl.
Hudson sighed with clear resignation. “Not a shred. When I rise from the ashes, I start all over again. No money, no place to live, nothing, but somehow, I manage to always find a way to do what I love—which is become a doctor.”
Nina made a face of disbelief. “Doctoring costs money to get degrees, dude. Where the fuck do you get that kind of cash when you don’t even have a place to fucking live?”
Heath raised his hand, his handsome smile cheeky. “Remember when Arch and me turned back into humans and we lost all our vampire money? We lived in a homeless shelter and the only thing we had left was my car, and I let a company for feminine products wrap it for cash? That’s how. In other words, you become very resourceful.”
Hudson pointed at Heath with a grin. “What he said. I’m really resourceful.”
Wanda giggled, covering her mouth. “Oh my heavens. Remember that, Nina? Back in the good old days before we formed OOPS?”
Nina chuckled and bobbed her head. “Yeah. That was just before Marty and me turned your ass into the halfsie you fucking are today. Damn, those were some really good times.”
This was like a master class in being a member of OOPS, nirvana if Rocky had ever experienced it. “Wait, so all the rumors aren’t really rumors? You guys really did turn Wanda, and then she went rabid and Heath had to bite her to stabilize her?”
Greg laughed out loud. “Oh, it’s true all right. Do you remember how mad we were at them, Keegan?”
Now Keegan laughed, too, probably for the first time since Rocky had met him, and it warmed her heart. “Damn right, I do, buddy. I wanted to wrap my hands around Marty’s gorgeous neck and squeeze, I was so angry. It was some damn risk she took doing that, pack law being what it was. But we got a hell of a golfing trip out of that disaster, eh, Greg? A solid week in Pebble Beach. God, that was some good golfing.”
Then they all laughed at the memory, until Nina sobered them with her next words.
“Fuck, I miss the shit out of her. This all started because of her. Everything we have right now is because she just wouldn’t fucking give up. She was the first one of us to be turned, and once she figured this shit out, once she understood how to be paranormal, she wouldn’t quit. She didn’t give up on me or Wanda or anyone who calls that stupid hotline she created from abso-fucking-lutely nothing. She always managed to make something out of nothing. All that bullshit sunshine and lollipops she’s always spewing, and I never thought I’d say this, but I miss the fuck out of her optimism. I’ll do whatever I have to, but I want her back. I need her back.”
Greg pulled his wife close, resting his chin on the top of her head as she leaned into him. It was Rocky’s understanding vampires couldn’t cry, but the lack of tears was almost worse for her to witness, and it made her that much more determined to help.
Leaning over the table, she grabbed Nina’s hand and squeezed it hard before saying, “Okay, then here’s what I’ve found so far. Hudson’s name goes back as far as the sixteen hundreds—at least on the Internet. We might be able to find more information at a library—”
“You mean, like, look in actual books?” Hudson teased with a grin slathered across his handsome face.
Rocky knocked his shoulder with hers, ignoring the butterflies in her belly at their closeness. “Are you one of those people? One of those ‘the Internet is evil’ people? Listen here, you can have an entire library right at your fingertips any time day or night because of the Internet, which is a good thing in our case. Besides, if we didn’t have the Internet, I couldn’t show you the hysterical picture of you in a pair of veeery colorful pantaloons.”
She held up her laptop and pointed to a picture of a man with the same name who looked just like Hudson would, if he were a really bad painting from the 1600s.
Wanda burst out laughing. “Nice pants, Hudson. You so fancy,” she teased as she lay her head on Heath’s shoulder and wiped away the remainder of her tears.
“That is not me,” he denied, squinting at the picture with a frown. “I look nothing like that.”
Rocky pointed to his name. “It sure is. First of all, he looks just like you. But also, look at what it says right here. Hudson Khalil, personal doctor to the renowned Orvitz family from Europe who, in later years, eventually moved and began a successful business in Buffalo, New York. You know, the people who make those vacuum cleaners? It says you were born in 1656… And died in 1716? You lived until you were sixty…”
“Oh, and then here you are again in 1802, and it says you died in 1854 at fifty-two…” Wanda frowned and sat up in her chair. “Wait, how can this be? If you reincarnate every five hundred years, why are you on record as dying at sixty and fifty-two?”
Rocky’s brow furrowed. “That can’t be right. How could you have died not only in 1716, but also in 1854? That’s only a hundred and thirty-eight years between deaths. And where were you after 1854? The math doesn’t add up.”
“Oh, oh, oh, shit!” Nina yelped, turning her shiny laptop around to point to an obscure article about the Orvitzs’. “What the actual fuck is this? It says you were whacked by a guy named Robert Bertrand in 1854. They hung the dude for killing you.”
A cold chill raced along her arms, and Rocky rubbed them to warm them up. “But what happened to you after 1854? Where did you go for a hundred and twenty-five years? You w
eren’t due to reincarnate for another three hundred and seventy-five. If you reincarnate every five hundred years, how is it possible that you died in 1854 and reincarnated again just before I saw you at the In Between in 1979, which would make you forty years old…”
The entire room went silent for a moment—before she realized the huge mistake she’d made by opening her big mouth.
Hudson’s fists clenched as he stared at her in astonishment. “But I’m thirty-nine, Rocky. I rose from the ashes in a park in 1980. I remember the date distinctly. It was February 28, 1980. But that’s not the real question here. The real question is—how do you know me? How do you know me?” he repeated through clenched teeth.
Oh, the piper. He always wanted to be paid, didn’t he?
And it really was true. No good deed went unpunished.
Chapter 11
She could have sworn that night they’d shared was in 1979… Man, her math sucked.
With downcast eyes, Rocky rose from the table, pushed her chair out and said, “Excuse me, please,” before she ran out the back door to the patio, sucking in the frigid night air when she stopped just beyond all the toys and patio furniture.
Snow had just begun to fall, tiny flakes coming down at a gentle pace, leaving the midnight-colored sky swollen with heavy clouds.
As she looked out into Keegan and Marty’s huge backyard, watching the limbs of the bare trees become covered in the sparkling powder, she stuck a finger in her mouth to keep from biting her tongue off or screaming.
She really wanted to scream to let out the frustration she’d been feeling for the last month.
How could she have made such an enormous mistake?
As she trudged toward the middle of the lawn, ridiculously hoping the farther she walked, the further her problems would get, her sneakers becoming soaked from the effort, she heard Hudson bellow her name.
“Rocky! We need to talk!”
Oh, no, they sure as fuck didn’t. They needed to part ways before she caused him more trouble than he deserved. If someone found out she’d talked to him centuries before—and on their last meeting thirty-nine-years ago they’d spent an entire night together at the In Between, what would happen to him? Would they dump him off on some vacant plane for the rest of his days, too? He’d lose everything because of her.
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