Tithes (Ava Delaney

by Claire Farrell

  “Don’t worry,” I whispered to the warm bundle in my arms. “I’ll take care of you.” I closed my eyes and inhaled that delicious baby scent, and my insides clenched. The one thing I desired more than anything was the one thing out of my reach, and yet I’d been delivered a baby as though in a dream.

  I played with what-ifs, imagining what my life would be like as a mother, until Carl returned with bottles, formula, nappies, and baby wipes.

  “She smiled in her sleep,” I said. “I swear she did. She’s such a little noodle. Look at her.”

  “Yeah,” Carl said drily. “A little noodle.”

  “We should get one of those baby bath things. And one of those, you know, mobile things that spin and make music.”

  He gave me a blank look.

  “The things that hang over the cot.” I babbled excitedly about all of the things I would need while Carl’s expression grew more concerned. I ignored the worrier trying to suck the fun out of every little thing.

  As I played around with the formula, filling my first bottle ever, he laid a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it painfully. “Ava.”

  I ignored him and kept talking.

  “Ava.”

  I turned around to face him, irritated by the interruption. “What?”

  “It’s not your baby.”

  “I know that. I’m not stupid.”

  He sighed. “That’s not what… look, her parents are going to come back for her. And even if they don’t, you can’t keep her. That’s not how it works.”

  “What? Like you know what I’m thinking now?” I asked, my voice a little higher-pitched than usual. Carl had hit the spot, and I didn’t like how that felt.

  “I know you,” he said. “I see that look in your eye. Emmett’s not interested in you, and you think you’re going to fill that space with this baby, but that’s not what happens. You don’t get to keep her. We have to tell someone about her eventually. You can’t just… take somebody’s child and think it’ll fix everything that’s wrong with you. I’ve warned you about this kind of thing before, and—”

  “Shut up,” I said, barely able to contain my anger.

  “This is for your own good,” he said firmly. “You get too attached, and when the baby goes back to her parents, you’ll be devastated. Why don’t we call Shay right now and—”

  “Get out,” I snapped. “Just go, Carl. What the hell would you know? Telling me I’ll be devastated. Look at you! How many times did I warn you about Esther? You lost your job and can barely get up out of bed. The cheek of you telling me what—”

  “You know what, Ava? Get fucked.” His eyes narrowed. “You don’t get to treat me like shit because I’m the only person who tells you the fucking truth around here.”

  He turned on his heel and left.

  “And you can watch your mouth around the baby and all!” I screamed after him.

  He slammed the front door so hard that my entire house rattled. And the baby woke back up and screamed. I hurriedly finished making a bottle and went to feed her for the first time. Carl didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. I hadn’t used Emmett to fix me, and I certainly wasn’t trying to replace him with a baby.

  I sat on the sofa and fed the bottle to the little girl. “You are a cute little noodle,” I whispered. I didn’t even know her name, but I felt that peace again with her in my arms. I already knew that when I set her down, my arms would feel painfully empty. And when she left, there would be little else to distract me from Emmett’s sudden turn against me.

  I sighed heavily. I hated to admit it, but sometimes, Carl was right.

  Shortly afterward, a knock at the door sounded. Thinking it was Carl back to make things up, I carried the baby to the door and opened it, ready to apologise.

  A tall, handsome, dark-skinned man I used to know so well stood on my doorstep.

  “I…” I blinked a couple of times, trying to gather myself together. “Can I help you?”

  A scowl twisted the features of my first boyfriend—the man I had accidentally bitten as a teenager then run away from. He was the man I had encouraged Phoenix to take memories from. So why was he on my doorstep?

  “Cut the crap, Ava,” Wes said sharply. “I know everything.”

  3

  My mouth dried up as I stared at Wes. I hadn’t seen him since I begged Phoenix to take Wes’s memories of me. I had done my best to forget him, too. “I… I mean, I…what?”

  He frowned at the baby in my arms. “Who owns the baby?”

  “I do,” I said automatically.

  He folded his arms across his chest. “We both know that’s not true.”

  “I… I don’t know what you mean.”

  He tutted with frustration. “I know, Ava. I know you tried to take my memories.”

  Oh, holy shit. “Then how—”

  “How do I remember you? Because I asked that man not to steal my memories,” he said shortly. “And he was decent enough to listen, to at least give me the choice.”

  I leaned against the doorway for support as the blood drained from my face. I thought I’d tied up my past with a neat bow, but everything was coming undone. And Wes remembered… everything. I swallowed hard, unable to think of anything to say that might make the situation less uncomfortable.

  He frowned. “That’s not why I’m here. Don’t worry.”

  “Do you… want to come in?” I managed to squeak.

  He walked inside, careful not to touch me. I directed him to the living room, where we both lingered while the awkward tension in the air increased.

  “Uh, take a seat,” I said, losing a battle against my shaking voice.

  Wes sat on the sofa. I settled the baby back into her basket then perched on the arm of a chair, my insides churning. It was hard to look at him and even harder to think about the things he knew. He looked around the room, something shifting in his eyes. He had probably expected my home to resemble my teenage bedroom. The small, cosy room was full of mismatched furniture and relics disguised as ornaments. The distance between us grew.

  “I need your help,” he said after a moment. The words appeared to pain him. “I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

  “What’s wrong? Is it Nancy?” He had promised to take care of my grandmother in her senility, and taking her memories of me had been an easy decision. It gave her an ounce of peace that she hadn’t achieved since my birth. Wes had been a harder choice, but ultimately, I’d thought it best to protect him from my world.

  “Nancy’s fine, relatively speaking. I thought you would have gone to see her. I don’t know… to make sure she was okay.”

  “I didn’t really want to,” I admitted. I gazed at my bitten fingernails. “I figured she was being well looked after.”

  “She was. She is, but… you really closed that door, didn’t you?”

  He sounded flabbergasted, and I shrank into myself.

  “I’m here about the neighbourhood.” He frowned again. “Our neighbourhood. I know you don’t think of it as home anymore, but I thought you might still care.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Things were supposed to get better, right?” He stood and walked around the room, looking at photos on my mantelpiece. All were strangers to him, signs of the new life I had made when I left him behind. A lump in my throat ached. “But they didn’t,” he continued. “For a while, our place was pretty much untouched.” He shrugged. “I thought I had you to thank for that. But then, it started.”

  “What started, Wes?” My voice was thin and small, an infuriating reminder of the old days.

  His gaze fell to my hands, and I realised I had been tapping my fingers on my knees in sets of fourteen. I sat on my hands and pretended nothing had happened.

  “People came,” he said after a moment. “Gangs. I think most of them are human. But they’re making people pay.” He finally looked at me. “Protection money. If we pay, we’re safe. From them. From anyone else who might come along. Some people didn’t
pay. Our homes were vandalised when they realised we would never pay. Every now and then, they’d show up again, and things would grow a little more intense.”

  “It got worse,” I guessed. “Something’s happened.”

  He sucked in a shaking breath. “Yeah, it did. Remember Mr. O’Brien at the corner? Next to the old corner shop where we used to buy those fizzy sticks you liked?”

  My cheeks burned at the memory. Even as a teenager, I’d had an uncontrollable sweet tooth. As for Mr. O’Brien, I remembered an impossibly old man who was too blind to see that I was different from the other kids. He would occasionally slip me sweets when my grandmother wasn’t looking. “He was always nice to me.”

  “Well, he was beaten to death last night.” He rubbed his face, clearly exhausted. “He didn’t pay, and they killed him. It’s possible they didn’t mean to, that he had a heart attack during the beating, but they didn’t call an ambulance or anything. And nobody heard a thing. Nobody helped him. His home-help found him this morning. He died alone because of these people.”

  I had to force myself not to rock to and fro. The past was chasing me again, catching up in ways I didn’t like. “I can’t believe it,” I said shakily. “He didn’t deserve that.”

  “Nobody does,” he snapped. “So what happens next time they come back? People are angry now, think they have to protect their families any way they can. This won’t end well. There’s no trust out there, Ava. We all keep reading the newspapers, keep hearing how bad things have gotten, and we can’t help but believe it all. The police have been no help, and most people have been too afraid to talk to them anyway. I didn’t know what else to do.” He took in the room one last time. “This was a mistake. I should never have come here.”

  I got in his way to stop him leaving. “No, I’ll help. I’m glad you came.”

  “Glad?” He gripped my upper arms tightly. “You never wanted to see me again! You ran away from me without a word, made me think you were dead, and then you popped back into my life only to try to steal my memories away!”

  “I’m sorry.” It sounded pathetic, even to me.

  “Sorry isn’t good enough!” he bellowed. “What the hell were you thinking? You can’t just make decisions like that, Ava. Who gave you the right?”

  “I thought…” I swallowed hard. “I thought it would be for the best.”

  “Best for you!” He dropped my arms and turned his back on me. “You can’t do that to people, take a piece of them away. How could you even consider it? Stealing my past like it was nothing. Like everything we had been through meant nothing.”

  I reached out to touch his arm. “Wes,” I said softly.

  He whirled around, backing away from me. “I don’t even know you,” he said bitterly. “I can’t even imagine what’s happened to you to make you so heartless. I was right. This really was a mistake.”

  He left, refusing to turn back when I called his name. I couldn’t leave the baby to chase him. And I wasn’t sure what that would achieve in any case.

  My hands were shaking. I had never meant to hurt Wes. I had intended to protect him from me. But Phoenix hadn’t taken his memories. Wes could have turned up at any time. And Phoenix had never said a word.

  Blowing out a shaky breath, I picked up the phone then called Wes’s family home to leave a message, letting him know he could call me if the gang turned up again. Poor Mr. O’Brien. He had been kind, and his death had been senseless.

  A fury ran through me. Where were the police when all of this was happening? Wes obviously hated me, but I could still help. I called Shay, head of the Integration Agents who dealt with supernatural matters that crossed over into human territory. There had to be something he could do.

  When Shay answered the phone, his tone was brusque. “I don’t have much time to talk today.”

  “I need your help with something,” I said. “An old friend came to see me, said his neighbourhood was being targeted by some kind of protection racket. Apparently, an elderly man was beaten to death last night.”

  He paused as someone else spoke to him. “Ava, if you give me the location, I’ll have somebody check it out.” I gave him the details, but something in my voice must have given me away, because his tone became concerned. “Hey, are you all right?”

  “Yeah, it’s just—”

  Loud voices in the background interrupted us.

  “Sorry,” Shay said hurriedly. “I have to go. I’ll have someone check it out as soon as I can.” He hung up before I could say goodbye.

  Deflated, I sat on my armchair and stared at the empty sofa, recalling Wes’s form as he’d sat there. He didn’t fit, not in my home, not in my life, but I hated that he was angry with me.

  I went to my front door, wishing I could go to Peter to talk, but I knew he was still too angry. Phoenix brought out the inner rage in Peter, and I couldn’t push him too hard. Anka was probably still furious with me, too. And it was my fault. Carl’s anger was just as fresh; I didn’t have the energy for another confrontation.

  As I gazed out at the cul-de-sac, thinking of just how many people were angry with me, I wondered if people ever got over their issues. Or did they just bury them, the way I had with Wes. His return had shaken me, and yet again, I was to blame. But my guilt swiftly turned to anger. Phoenix had lied to me. And I was going to find out why.

  * * *

  When I considered the people in my life, I knew I could count on one person when it came to protecting the little girl while I sought out Phoenix. She was one of the few people who weren’t pissed off at me.

  When Val arrived, she soundlessly brushed past me to find the baby. “You were serious,” she said when I followed her into the living room.

  “I’d hardly make it up.”

  She glanced at me. “I hoped you did.” She sighed. “Another slave. I feel…” Her fists closed then opened again. “How disappointing this is.”

  “Can you watch over her while I go do something?”

  “She’s safe with me,” she said, taking a seat. The half-hellhound gazed at the basket, her honey-coloured eyes softening. “Nobody can touch her now.”

  “Think Leah can help figure out what she can do?”

  “That won’t be a problem. Are you assuming the child is especially valuable?”

  “I’ve no idea.” I flopped into a chair. “It doesn’t even matter. The point is—we failed. We didn’t save all of the children.”

  “This child is barely more than a couple of days old,” Val pointed out. “She wasn’t even alive back then.”

  “We thought we were making a better world.” I rested my chin in my hands, feeling glum. “And here we are again—back where we began.”

  “Not where we began,” she said. “We know so much more now.”

  “And yet I’ve no idea who’s doing this.” I stood and paced. “I don’t know who I can even trust anymore.”

  “You can trust me.”

  “That’s why I called you.” I faced her. “You saved Leah from the kind of life this child was destined for. Somebody brought her to me. How did they know to bring her here? What did they even want from me? They could have stayed. I would have helped them.”

  “We’ll find them,” she said confidently.

  The baby squirmed and whimpered. Before I could reach the basket, Val had the infant in her arms, cooing as she rocked her. She caught my eye and scowled. “What?”

  “It’s just… you’re more of a heavy-weapon person. Didn’t really think you’d fall to pieces over a baby.”

  “I haven’t fallen to pieces,” she said snidely. But when she looked down at the child, she smiled. “You’ve forgotten I raised Leah. I was the one who took care of her, and this little one reminds me of those days. I was tasked to protect Leah, and I did, but there were times when I had to mother her, too. She was all I had for so long.” Her lips turned down. “She’s still all I have.”

  “Problems with Lucia?”

  She pursed her lips before an
swering. “She couldn’t relax at home. Lorcan was on her thoughts a lot. There was something bothering her, so she left. I’m not so sure she’s coming back.” She sucked in her lower lip. “I’m… not sure I want her to.”

  “If things get too weird, you and Leah are welcome to come here. You know that, right?”

  “Leah likes Phoenix.” She made it sound as though that were a fatal flaw of personal character. “I’ll wait and see. Get me a bottle for this little one. She seems hungry.”

  I warmed a bottle and gave it to Val, who fed the baby like an expert.

  “She’s sweet, isn’t she?” I said. “I keep calling her Noodle.”

  “Poor baby,” she said scornfully.

  “I don’t know her name.”

  Val pursed her lips. “I wonder if she even has one.”

  “So,” I said nervously. “Exactly how mad at me is Peter right now?”

  She snorted softly through her nose. “Do you really want the answer to that question? What were you thinking, Ava?”

  “I was thinking that we have enough bad blood between us all. That maybe the kids would be different. I don’t know, Val. I wanted something… more.”

  “You wanted to please Phoenix.” She shook her head. “What hold does that man have over you?”

  “He doesn’t have a ‘hold’ over me. I have my own brain, you know.” I shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to make him happy then. I don’t know. But if you had seen Nick. He has this withdrawn look about him, like he’s afraid of everything. I’m tired of scared children, Val. I thought maybe we could make a difference.”

  “Peter’s fuming,” she said. “He won’t talk about it unless he’s swearing about Phoenix. He may seem angry at you, but it’s Phoenix he really blames.”

  “That’s just stupid. I organised it. I was the one who wasn’t there when the kids acted up.”