by Mallory, H P
“Well, I’m sorry I’m focused on my best friend and not my looks,” I spat out, ignoring the part about seeing things. I didn’t have an excuse for that one.
“Stop turning this around on me, Dulcie. You know what I’m talking about.”
“No, I…”
“Anyway, you need to take the night off. I’m going to send Dia over later and you’d better get some sleep, understood?”
“Don’t send Dia over,” I started, panic spiraling through me as I realized I’d be found out as soon as Dia realized I couldn’t fall asleep. “I’m coming back to the hospital. I’m not leaving Sam by herself.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Knight said in a steely voice. “I’m the head of this investigation and what I say goes. Dia is coming over tonight and you’ll thank me tomorrow.”
Before I could argue, he hung up.
“Cocky bastard!” I yelled into the receiver before slamming the phone down. Blue jumped about two feet and retired to the far end of the room, his tail between his legs. I put my hand out, trying to coax him back over again. “Sorry, Boy, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
He didn’t make any motion to approach me and, instead, went back to his half-eaten bowl of kibbles and picked up where he’d left off, eyeing me suspiciously from time to time as if to make sure I wasn’t going to wig out on him again.
I collapsed onto the couch and tried to concentrate on what to do next. I attempted to focus but my mind was beyond the point of concentration and into the realm of make believe.
A knock on the door grabbed my attention as irritation swept through me. Dia. Knight must have told her to stop by as soon as I’d left the hospital—what a piece of work he was. Well, they both were about to find out what a piece of work I could be. I stood up, marched over to the door and was about to lambaste Dia but the words died in my throat once I pulled the door open.
“Quill?” I asked, keeping the door open only a sliver as Blue came trotting over, probably intending to bite my visitor.
Quill smiled and shrugged his broad shoulders. “Hi, Dulce, can I come in?”
I narrowed my eyes, suddenly wondering if he was just a figment of my completely distorted imagination.
I reached out and pinched his forearm.
“Ow, what the hell did you do that for?” he demanded, and cradled his arm like I’d just hacked into it with a machete.
“So, you are real?” I announced, still eyeing him as if he weren’t. “Because I’ve had enough visits from people who aren’t there. So, if you aren’t real then buzz the fuck off!”
He frowned, his brows knotting in the middle of his forehead. “Of course I’m real,” he said and eyed me askance. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sick of people asking me that!” I bellowed. “Yes, I’m freaking as fine as someone could be whose best friend is dying!” I couldn’t help but choke on the words.
“Dulcie, let me in,” Quill said and his tone was compassionate, concerned. “I’m worried about you—obviously you’re still on the Mandrake.”
“Don’t be worried about me,” I said and sighed. “I’m okay.”
Blue yanked away from me and poked his nose out of the door. Quill’s lips broke out into a huge smile. “Hi, Blue, remember me?”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I began as Quill leaned down and put his hand on Blue’s muzzle. The dog did nothing but paw at the door, as if he wanted to be let out. “Wow,” I started, amazed that Blue hadn’t tried to bite him, or at the very least, growled.
“Dulce?” Quill prodded again, glancing up at me as if to say he hadn’t forgotten the fact that I was losing my mind, becoming completely certifiable.
I stepped aside and allowed him entrance, shrugging as I figured he was as real as he was going to get. “Come in.”
“Thanks,” he said and walked inside, offering me a cheery smile as Blue, all smiles and wagging tail, circled him. Quill leaned down again and wrestled the dog into a bear hug, rubbing his head as he did so. I guess it made sense that Blue would accept Quill considering Quill was the one who gave me the dog in the first place.
“He likes me,” Quill said as he glanced up for my approval.
I just shook my head, my thoughts turning to more important issues such as the fact that Quill had taken a big chance in coming here. I glanced down, realizing I was still clutching the doorknob and poked my head out, checking both sides of the street to make sure Dia hadn’t decided to visit at the most inopportune moment. No sign of her so I closed the door and locked it. “You shouldn’t have come. How did you know I didn’t have anyone from the ANC here?”
I watched him walk into my living room, glancing around as if to make sure everything was as he remembered it, that nothing had changed. It was sad almost—like he was ensuring I was the same old Dulcie he’d always known. I was sure he didn’t need me to tell him things weren’t the same and never would be.
“I’ve been watching your house since you got home,” he answered nonchalantly before approaching me. He reached for my face and tilted it upwards, studying me. “You need to get off the Mandrake.”
“I can’t, Quill…”
He shook his head. “You’re getting addicted, I can see it in your eyes. And now it sounds like you’re hallucinating?”
“It’s worse than it looks,” I started, thinking of any excuse I could. “I just need a little more time, Quill.”
“Dulce…”
“I only have two doses left and then I’m out,” I said and smiled anxiously. “I don’t imagine you’ll give me more.” It was more a question than a statement.
Quill shook his head. “Absolutely not. I’m still irritated with myself that I gave you any to begin with.”
“Just give me a few more days, Quill, that’s all I ask for. Sam would thank you,” I added, almost guiltily.
He sighed and didn’t say anything, as if he was internally arguing with himself about whether or not to trust me.
“Please,” I began, wracking my brain for a change of subject. Finding one, I latched onto it like a life preserver. “Why are you here?”
“I’ve got information for you,” he said simply. “Do you have time to talk?”
“No,” I began. “I’m expecting someone from the ANC any second and it wouldn’t be a good thing if you’re here.”
“When can we talk then?”
I chewed my bottom lip as I thought about the fact that I really didn’t want to be home when Dia came calling—I needed to avoid the whole sleep situation. What better way than play MIA for a few hours?
“Meet me at the Hyatt on Clover Street in Estuary in forty-five minutes,” I started, thinking Quill might be recognized in Splendor so it was too risky to be seen out and about. He’d been incredibly stupid coming to my apartment in full daylight.
“Thanks for looking out for me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled and walked him to the back door. “Once you’re checked in, leave an envelope for Cindy Jones at the counter with your room number in it.” I mentioned the name Cindy Jones because I didn’t want anything tying me to this meeting with Quill. But, knowing Quill, he’d check in under a false name anyway.
Quill nodded, observing me like a proud parent. “I’ve taught you well, Cindy.”
I smiled sadly. “I learned from the best.”
He didn’t say anything more but opened the back door and disappeared around the corner. I glanced at Blue who sat down on his haunches and whimpered.
#
The Hyatt in Estuary was decently nice. I pushed aside the vertically striped brown and blue curtains from the window and glanced down at Estuary Park, watching a kid learning how to ride his bike as his parents hovered protectively.
I was suddenly struck with the thought of how different this situation could have been—how in another life Quill and I could have been in this hotel room together for completely different reasons—maybe we were vacationing or meeting for a lovers’ tryst. He could have been drawing a b
ath for me while I chattered on about something that didn’t matter, merely trying to draw attention away from my anxious thoughts which revolved around the fact that he and I were alone…
But, thoughts like those were pointless and I wasn’t one of those people who saw the world through rose-colored lenses. I preferred the hard and oftentimes ugly reality that was around me, that I knew so well.
“I dug a little deeper into the whole black market blood operation that I told you about earlier,” Quill started and took a seat on the king-sized bed. The comforter was the same drab brown of the curtains and the bed was piled with so many pillows, it actually looked uncomfortable. I pulled my attention away from the window, releasing the curtain and took a seat on a nearby chair, covered in a polka dot blue and brown to, yes, match the curtains and the coverlet on the bed.
“And, what did you find out?” I asked.
“There is Dreamstalker blood on the market.”
I nodded, not finding the announcement at all surprising. “I figured. So, how is anyone getting it? The only two Dreamstalkers are still in prison.”
Quill shrugged. “Apparently it’s coming from Banshee. I’m not exactly sure how but that’s the point of origination. Somehow the blood is passing hands in Banshee and ending up on the streets. But, Dreamstalkers aren’t even the worst offenders. There’s Kraken blood and some sicko has been selling Dragon’s blood but calling it Chupacabra.”
“Dragon’s blood will kill whoever takes it,” I said, my mouth dropping open.
“Yep,” Quill said. “Not surprisingly, there have been lots of DOAs.”
I said nothing more, my mind in a tailspin, too many thoughts colliding into one another. If Banshee Prison was the source of the blood, who was the one providing it? Was it controlled solely by inmates or something more sinister?
“Dulcie, let me help you with this case,” Quill said with pleading eyes.
I immediately shook my head. “You know I can’t do that, Quill. You aren’t ANC anymore.”
His jaw was tight. “Neither are you.”
“I’m still working with them.”
Quill stood up and came closer to me, glancing down with determination in his eyes. “Dulcie, you need my help. I got Druiva behind bars before—I can do it again.”
I stood up and wrapped my arms around myself. I was entirely too close to him and the smell of his aftershave was causing a flutter in my stomach that needed to be eradicated a.s.a.p. “This isn’t even a Dreamstalker,” I said without realizing it. I could have kicked myself as I hadn’t wanted to reveal the slightest hint about the case and I’d just mouthed the biggest one.
Dammit to hell.
“Interesting,” Quill nodded, his smile revealing the fact that he’d realized my faux pas.
“No, it’s not interesting and do me a favor and forget that I told you. I refuse to get you involved.”
His body language said he wasn’t going to back down. “You’ve just basically told me the guts of the whole case. You might as well come out with the rest.
I was quiet as I considered it. Quillan was an amazing cop and he had busted Druiva which meant his help would be that much more necessary. Apparently, I’d already made the decision to include him. I nodded, knowing I was defeated. “You keep all of these case details to yourself,” I said.
“Of course.”
My lips were tight. “Quill, I’m trusting you and I’m serious. None of this leaves this room.”
“I know, Dulce, my lips are sealed.”
I swallowed hard and turned toward the window again, almost like I couldn’t face him, knowing I was breaking ANC rules. Knight would definitely have fired me from the case right then and there if he knew what I was doing. Hmm, or maybe he would have locked me up. I was never sure about anything where Knight was concerned.
“I’m pretty sure our killer isn’t really a Dreamstalker,” I started. “But it’s something posing as one. And I’m sure I locked the bastard away years ago because all the victims have had something to do with me.”
“What do you mean?”
I sighed, and glanced at Quill again, not sure where to begin. “The first two deaths were girls in my second grade class. My childhood nanny is now in a coma, my boyfriend from high school, my mother’s landlady and now Sam.”
“Your best friend,” Quill said absently—it meant his mind was racing with thoughts—thoughts too fast for his mouth to keep up with. “Sounds like you’re up to your ears.”
I laughed but it was a dry sound. “You could say that.”
“Do you have any idea who it could be?”
I glanced at the small, round table in front of the solitary chair. I’d put my backpack on the table and inside the backpack was the iPad. No one could tell me I wasn’t prepared. “I started going through the files and writing down possibilities but there are just too many who have reason to hate me. I got a lot of assholes locked up, Quill,” I said with a sad smile. “And a number of them have been released.”
“So, we start from the beginning and go through contact after contact. Give me the list and I’ll help you get through it.”
It wasn’t a bad idea, actually. Quill had been involved in every case, every step of the way. If there was anyone to have on my side, it would have been him. I glanced at the backpack and unzipped it, grabbing the iPad.
“You have to promise me this isn’t going to come back to bite me in the ass,” I started.
“Dulce,” Quill warned, as if to say we’d already been through this conversation.
Well, I didn’t care. He needed to know how important his silence was. “What you see in this room stays in this room.”
He smiled. “That almost sounds naughty.”
I shook my head. “I’m serious, Quill.”
He sighed. “Dulcie, you can trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you, you know that.”
I laughed acidly at his words. His disloyalty to the ANC had hurt me in ways he would never know. Even now I wondered if I’d seriously lost my mind that I was allowing him in on this case. The old Dulcie of just a few months ago would have bucked at the idea and, instead, probably tried to arrest him.
“This is going to be the extent of our liaison, you know that right?” I asked, eyeing him warily.
He nodded and dropped his gaze to his large hands. “I figured.”
I turned back to the window and watched the boy on the bike take a tumble. He stood up, glanced down at his grass stained corduroys and started crying. His mother enveloped him in a bear-like hug and all was right with his world again.
“I’ll accept your assistance with this case because Sam needs all the help she can get but after this, we go back to how we used to be,” I said in a firm tone.
“Enemies,” he finished.
I glanced at him. “I can’t work double duty, Quill. Even though I’m no longer a Regulator, I still work for the ANC. I can’t and I won’t maintain a relationship with you, not after I know what circles you travel in.”
He frowned and stood up, dwarfing me. “You maintain a relationship with Dagan and Bram,” he began angrily. “How can I be any worse than they are?”
Dagan was a demon who owned an S&M club, Payne. There were few worse than he was. “I’ve never busted them for anything,” I said but the excuse sounded just as flimsy to me as I was sure it sounded to him.
“You know they’re less than model citizens,” he said and he was so close to me, I could feel his breath on my head. I didn’t dare turn around from facing the window.
“You’re different,” I started, trying to think of the reasons why he was different. What it boiled down to was the fact that Quill had been allowed into my inner circle and Bram and Dagan never had. Because Quill had burned me, I couldn’t stomach the idea of maintaining any sort of connection with him. In this case, it was better to rip the Band-Aid off and scream with the pain but also be done with it.
“How am I different?” Quill demanded as he ran his
hands up and down my arms.
“I really don’t want to get into this right now, Quill. You’re not going to like what comes out of my mouth.”
His hands stopped rubbing my arms and he backed away. I took it as my cue to turn on the iPad and start sorting through the various creatures who might be our perpetrator.
#
Three hours later I was back at home and in the process of listening to an angry voicemail from Dia where she berated me for ditching her. I pressed delete and sank into my couch, wondering what to do with the rest of my day and evening. Knight wouldn’t take it well if I showed up at the hospital, but I had to wonder if I really cared. Obviously I wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon which meant I’d be better off at Sam’s bedside than twiddling my thumbs at home, especially if the Dreamstalker decided to attack. If Knight wanted me gone, he could forcibly remove me. Course, I wouldn’t have put that past him.
My mind was made up—I was going back to the hospital.
Besides, I had news for Knight. Quill and I had pared the list of suspects down to a mere twenty who could possibly be our Dreamstalker, based on two factors: whether I sent them to Banshee and if they’d either been released or escaped. Even though escaping from Banshee was beyond rare, it did happen. And from the research Quill and I had done into the ANC bios, there had been one escapee.
Even though the list of possible culprits was decently long, I actually felt good about the fact that we had a starting point, something to go on. I shook my head as I realized how helpful it would have been to have this list five days ago but there was no use in crying over counterfeit Dreamstalkers or the fact that it had taken us the better part of a week to even figure out the Dreamstalker was counterfeit.
I grabbed my backpack, my helmet and gave Blue a kiss on the head before putting him outside. I started for my bike and wondered how much shit Knight was going to give me.
Guess I was just a glutton for punishment.
Eleven