First Born (Lily Moore Series)

by Tricia Zoeller

  Her cheek rested against the side of the hot tub. Detective Simms slouched low, the top of his head touching the fiberglass.

  “Lily?” Simms asked.

  Looking down, she noted that she was naked from the waist up and there was blood in the water.

  Seth pulled his shirt off in order to cover her. Then he ran inside to turn on the back floodlights. He returned within three seconds.

  “Who’s hurt?” Seth leaned over them. Simms glared up at him.

  “I don’t think you’re helping, Seth. Go inside.” She brought her right arm up to keep the shirt to her chest while unhooking her leg from the detective’s waist.

  Seth backed up two feet and fretted. “I told you that guns are bad!” He must have been reliving the night he found her in Larry’s backyard.

  Simms looked green. Lily feared he was going into shock. She didn’t know if it was from fear or physical pain. Seth had told her when she got mad her eyes could make a grown man piss himself. With Seth raving in the background, the detective turned to look at her.

  She gazed back at him. “Are you hurt?” She noticed the wound at his temple had re-opened and oozed.

  He shifted, then winced. Simms looked down. Despite his black pants, Lily could see the blood in the dark. The hot tub wasn’t the only victim. She was terrified.

  “Never, ever listening to you...we are so fu...” Seth rambled.

  “Shut up, Seth!” Simms yelled.

  Lily and Seth both froze.

  Seth’s mouth hung open.

  Lily looked at him. “Towels, now, hurry.” While Seth ran inside, she sat up and pulled his shirt over her head. When she turned back, Simms had drawn his gun.

  Why didn’t I listen to my brother? Her weapon had slid further into her underwear when she was wrestling the officer and now it felt like she had a load weighing down the back of her drawers.

  Her eyes watered. She gulped for air and hiccupped. “Please don’t.”

  Simms looked at her, then at his hand. She noticed it was trembling. His face showed surprise. Of course it did. He just had some winged demon woman jump him. Shit she would have shot her own mutant ass. He raised his left hand to grip the gun tighter. She shut her eyes and held her breath. She wasn’t some fierce guardian; she was a chicken. Her impulsiveness was finally going to be her undoing.

  There was a click.

  “I have no idea why I’m trusting you,” Simms said. She opened her eyes to see that he had engaged the safety and no longer had the gun pointed at her.

  That’s when she lunged at him.

  She hugged his chest and cried, overwhelmed with relief.

  “Thank you,” she gushed.

  He awkwardly patted her back.

  “I didn’t recognize you. You weren’t a, uh, dog.”

  “Sorry, I can’t imagine what you thought was coming at you!” Lily looked down at his hip. “We need to get you off this wet deck.”

  Seth burst through the door with blankets as well as every piece of linen from the Quinn storage closet. He came to an abrupt stop when he saw her hugging the detective’s neck.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake, Lily. Get off the man already. Isn’t it bad enough you shot him?”

  “I didn’t shoot him. He shot himself,” she insisted.

  “She tackled me. My gun was in my hand. Thankfully, I didn’t hit her. The bullet just grazed my hip.” He apparently was not happy with her version of the story.

  “You should have shot her,” Seth said. “Seriously, Lily, you don’t just jump someone!” He completely missed the irony of his statement, forgetting he had jumped Simms in the interrogation room barely a week ago.

  “I was trying to be quiet about it, but he woke up!” She stood.

  “You’re as stealthy as a bunch of drunken frat boys.” Seth said.

  Now toe to toe, they stared at each other. Simms gasped. Lily stepped away from her annoying brother, breathed, and retracted her claws.

  “Let’s get him inside,” Seth said.

  Without thinking, she reached down and scooped him up in her arms. She felt his body tense. Seth did his funny cat giggle. Lily blushed from her own strength. She didn’t dare look at the officer. She didn’t want to see his face that surely would confirm what he really thought about her.

  She plopped him on the counter top, near the kitchen sink.

  “Seth, get the first aid kit,” she ordered. He dashed out the door to grab the backpack where she had dropped it on the wet deck.

  The detective’s pants smelled burnt where the bullet charred through them. She grabbed the hole to rip his pant leg open further. She did the same with his black boxer briefs. Then she grabbed his black shirt and lifted it up to inspect his stomach and chest to look for more wounds. Seth returned in time to give her a dirty look. She just shrugged. What? I couldn’t leave him in the wet shirt. She accepted a towel from him to apply direct pressure to Simms’s wound. The detective attempted to take care of things himself, but she wouldn’t let him. He was all business as he gave them instructions in cleaning wounds. Seth kept eyeing her. So what if she was relishing her role as medic.

  “Lily. Don’t you think he needs to go to the hos-pi-tal?” Seth asked, drawing out the word like she was touched in the head.

  She stopped her triage and looked at him. This hadn’t occurred to her. She looked to Detective Simms. “Um. Seth can drive you to the hospital, but only if you promise not to tell anyone where we are.”

  Seth rolled his eyes. “Don’t be stupid. Of course, he’s going to call someone. He’s a cop.” Simms remained eerily quiet.

  Lily looked down at his wound. My God, what have I done? Her eyes began to water.

  “I really think I’ll be okay. It just grazed me,” he said.

  Lily looked like she was going to hug his neck. He gave her a warning look.

  “You need some ice,” he said.

  “Seth, get him some ice.”

  “I meant for your head.”

  She looked into his slate blue eyes, confused.

  “Sorry about the bump on your head,” he said.

  “Well it’s better than a bullet,” she laughed.

  He looked at her. This was the closest she had ever been to him except for when she was at Larry’s. He licked his lips. She closed her mouth before she drooled. He gave her a tight-lipped smile, no teeth. She noticed he was shaking and realized he had to be in a lot of pain, but he still didn’t go for his gun. It rested next to him on the counter, safety engaged.

  After they dressed his wounds, Seth gave him a spare pair of sweatpants and white t-shirt. Upstairs, Lily changed out of her wet clothes into a tank top and shorts. When she came back, Simms was on the couch with a blanket draped over him. As she was getting him some ginger ale, Seth grabbed her arm. “What are we going to do now?”

  “I don’t know,” she rasped.

  “Great planning,” he said. His eyes travelled to her injured head. “Does it hurt badly?”

  “Not awful, but I’ve got the crucible. Detective Simms doesn’t.” Seth let go of her arm. “The Vicadin and Extra Strength Tylenol are upstairs,” she suggested.

  He sighed as he went to retrieve them. Simms said no to the Vicadin even though she could tell he was tired and in pain.

  “I need you both to sit down,” he said. Lily sat down at his feet. Seth sat in the rocking chair directly across from them. Simms sat up straighter as if to appear stronger and more authoritative, “I expect your full cooperation from here on out.”

  Seth scowled. She smiled.

  “I want an honest, direct answer,” he ordered.

  Seth squirmed in his chair. Lily forgot to breathe.

  “What are you?”

  Chapter 46

  From the Lost Notes of Peter Marx

  August 5, 2010

  I found her notes. The Vestiges are showing signs of aggression from the steroid injections. Shocking. Instead of backing off treatments or reducing dosage, Dr. H has increased the
treatments. Subject V1, in particular, is ‘harboring aggressive thoughts.’ He didn’t divulge his feelings to Dr. H. She learned this through reading his mind. That’s right. She reads minds. She knows my thoughts, doubts, and grave concerns regarding this research. She didn’t verbally threaten me. She didn’t have to.

  An interesting development occurred yesterday. Subject V2 expressed his wish to withdraw from treatments. We’ll see what happens from here. The shapeshifter, Subject C, has withdrawn from treatments. I know that she hounds him mercilessly to resume. Tells him, he’s a danger without his medicine.

  At this point, I feel the responsible thing to do is learn the identity of the Vestiges and monitor them to see how bad their reaction is and if Subject V1 is not only harboring aggressive thoughts, but acting on them.

  —Peter

  Chapter 47

  New Ally?

  Lily sat up in bed, screaming. The dawn’s gray light filtered softly through the gauzy white curtains of the cabin. Across the room Detective Simms stood, motionless. His hair was on end from sleep mixed with panic.

  He had been on the lumpy couch before she sounded the alarm. Maybe it was a dirty trick putting the Vicadin in his soda, but it had contained him enough that she had worked the handcuffs on him and moved him to the lumpy couch across the room from her in the master bedroom.

  Feathers drifted in the air, but they weren’t hers. Scanning the bed, she saw sliced down pillows and torn sheets.

  “What the fuck?” Seth asked from the doorway. Balanced on all fours with her wings spread, she perched naked in the middle of the bed. Seth growled. The detective put his manacled hands out in a placating gesture.

  “Night terrors,” he suggested. His eyes were intense as he met Seth’s. Lily watched as Seth assessed Simms’s intact sweatpants and makeshift bed on the couch and...the handcuffs. The officer averted his eyes from her. Seth approached the bed, looking down at the floor. Lily sat back and drew her wings in front of her like a cloak.

  “Lil?” cautioned Seth. “You need to close your mouth then your eyes. Take a deep breath in through your nose.” She did as he instructed. “Take your time as you exhale out through your mouth.” The heat escaped her, spilling forth into the room. The hot tears on her cheeks began to cool.

  “Again,” he said.

  Her eyes popped open at the creak of the floorboards. Simms was approaching, concerned.

  “Stay back, Detective Simms,” Seth said.

  He didn’t look like he liked taking orders from Seth, but he backed up to stand in front of the sofa. The morning light struck his face. Warmth spread down the back of Lily’s neck as she looked at him.

  “Lily,” Seth demanded her attention. She didn’t want to tear her eyes away from Simms, but Seth grasped the sides of her head. With much effort, she closed her eyes.

  “Get a hold of yourself,” he whispered. She finally understood what he meant. Whose body is this anyway? She retracted her wings after Seth threw a warm blanket over her. Opening her eyes, she clutched the blue blanket to her as she scooted back to rest against the headboard. She studied the patterns of the blanket, her face warm with shame.

  When she looked up Seth sat scowling at the foot of the bed. “I thought you were going to tie him up with the rope downstairs.” He folded his arms across his bare chest.

  “Well,” she squeaked. “He’s injured and we gave him medication. I needed to monitor him and make sure he stayed breathing.”

  “Where’d you get the handcuffs?”

  “From the Quinn’s bedside table.”

  “Ewww.” Seth said. They both looked over at the detective who was eyeing the cuffs in a whole new light.

  Lily didn’t tell Seth about shifting to Shih Tzu mode and curling up next to Detective Simms after licking his wounds. The deep gash on the officer’s head was now a blotch of pale pink with a sliver of a brown scab starting. Her crazy saliva in conjunction with the crucible had worked some kind of magic. Now what were they going to do with him?

  Seth shook his head. “Lily, next time you handcuff someone, I suggest you handcuff him to something. If he wasn’t drugged he could have just walked out of the house!”

  “Give me a break. You’ve taken my phone, my gun, and my keys. Don’t yell at her.”

  Seth approached him. “Please sit down.”

  The cop didn’t move. Lily admired the way his chest filled out her brother’s white Hanes undershirt.

  Seth turned his head toward her, his lip curled in disgust.

  “What?” she asked.

  She glanced at the detective who pressed his lips down as if to suppress a smile.

  “Geez, did ya both hear my thoughts?” The detective wore a crooked grin.

  * * *

  Caldwell thought back to the night before. The room had smelled like cool mountain air. He realized it was her scent. Her thrashing had woken him several times, but he was too drugged to stay conscious for long. He watched from the couch, albeit half-drugged, to witness her body change in her sleep. At one point, he had looked across to see her tiny porcelain feet peeking out from a cocoon of wings that she wrapped around herself in sleep. The feathers were brilliant. She looked like a little angel wrapped in the iridescent wings with her bleached blonde hair framing her round face. Then he noticed fangs. More like a killer angel who could render him in two with her claws.

  Caldwell’s healed hip perplexed him. His head hurt from trying to make sense of things. Perhaps he was lying in a coma somewhere in a hospital and these were his crazy head-injured thoughts.

  He had seen them in their animal forms. Now what was he going to do? Were they telling the truth? It sure seemed like it. He also knew that Dr. Gladson knew about them and didn’t tell the police. Lily would be dead if he hadn’t helped them. Now Caldwell understood why Lily had avoided the police. She was a new shifter with little control. No telling what some of his colleagues would have done if she had flashed those eyes at them; not call animal control, that’s for sure.

  Caldwell tried to make his head stop spinning. He wished he had spoken to Lieutenant Lake first. He wouldn’t be trapped in the Moores’ lair, defenseless if he had waited. Actually, the more he thought about it, he was relieved. If Lake was here, he would have shot one of the Moores last night. They would definitely take his badge. Unless, he could persuade the Moores to trust him. Trust the police.

  It would be a bit easier convincing the Moores to come in if the APD had a solid suspect, but they didn’t. However, they did have a lead—a set of tire tracks. Tiny didn’t have those results back yet. There were too many things Caldwell needed to sort out. He knew there was no coaxing the Moores to return to Atlanta with him. The adoption paper work from the Department of Vital Statistics was stuck in some government black box. That plane went down in the Sea of Red Tape and was yet to be recovered.

  Light spilled through the skylights promising another beautiful day. Too bad he couldn’t enjoy it. He gritted his teeth. The Moores had slunk outside on the front porch to talk.

  “Hey! You can’t keep me locked here forever!” Caldwell knew they could hear him. He’d noticed how they could talk to each from different floors of the cabin. He sat on the steps midway down, handcuffed to one of the metal balusters of the railing. He wanted his phone, his keys...his gun!

  Chapter 48

  Power Struggle

  Lily sat on the natural wood porch swing sipping on coffee from a Savannah College of Art and Design mug. It made her think of her friend Katie and the fact that they had broken into her cabin. God, what must she think right now? Does she think we’re dead...or killers? Seth rested his butt against the front porch railing in front of her.

  “We can’t worry about that right now,” he said. He wore cargo shorts, Reggie’s Nike Air Hoops and an army green shirt so he would be somewhat camouflaged in the woods.

  “I wasn’t talking, thinking, to you,” she snarked. She adjusted her t-shirt. It was Seth’s idea after she appeared topless
one too many times. They cut a vertical rectangle out of the back of a brown shirt, leaving a strip at the bottom that they halved. She then could tie it to tighten the shirt at her low, low back. If she shifted to Bird Light, this allowed room for her wings, but kept her covered. If she shifted to her other forms she was pretty much SOL. Black cargo shorts and lace-less tennis shoes completed her outfit.

  It was 7:00 a.m. The weather report suggested record-breaking temperatures for early June along with humidity at eighty percent. Lily was sweating, but more from nerves. They had a cop drugged and tied up. What the hell would their father think? This brought tears to her eyes and she pinched herself. Get a fucking grip.

  She inhaled deeply the scents of the grass, pine, jasmine before exhaling slowly while scanning the woods. Perched in the low branches of a Dogwood tree, a Cardinal sang his whoit, whoit, whoit, whoit. Followed by his what-cheer, what-cheer. Her ears continued to attempt to localize a low frequency buzzing sound close to them.

  “We need to leave here. We’ll go hide in the woods,” Seth said. Lily watched as morning fog rolled across the foot of the pines. Seth ran his hands through his spiky black hair. The pink splotches on his cheeks betrayed his emotions. He was coming down off Inderal. More sensitive than usual, his anxiety swelled while he continued to plead with her about their plan.

  It had been almost a week since he started his withdrawal. He spent several sleepless nights stalking the woods. Sometimes it was downright painful for him. She could hear his caterwauling from miles away. He had rebuffed her attempts to ease him with the crucible. His eyes made it clear that he would rather she threw a live grenade at him.

  “Seth. What’s that low tapping, almost buzzing sound?” She wanted to enjoy the birds’ song and this, this was not natural to the woods around them. Seth set his coffee on the railing; his eyes suddenly cat—almost aqua with deeper clouds of color surrounding his slit pupil. They both jumped down the steps and stopped in front of Detective Simms’s Explorer.