by A
just a minute ago. So why did hearing it from Bruno make me angry? Because I was angry. So
very angry.
―I will be.‖
―Celie . . .‖ Whatever he had to say, I didn‘t want to hear it. I just didn‘t. I couldn‘t talk to
him right now. I was too hurt, too raw from everything that had happened, from everything I‘d
done. Maybe if he‘d rushed over and taken me in his arms like they do in those stupid,
romantic movies. But he hadn‘t. He‘d gone to Irene’s body. Maybe I wasn‘t supposed to
notice, but I did.
I knew Bruno loved me. Loves me. But he loved her, too. It was plain in the anger and hurt
in his face as he‘d looked back at her and then at me. And I wasn‘t ready to deal with that.
―Don‘t, Bruno. Please. Just . . . don‘t.‖
I don‘t know if he would‘ve listened if Creede‘s voice hadn‘t interrupted us. ―I‘m not
finding it. DeLuca, get your ass over here.‖
Bruno rose to his feet in a smooth movement. He didn‘t say anything, but the look he gave
me promised that we‘d be having a long conversation soon. Maybe we would; then again,
maybe not.
I didn‘t watch them any longer. Turning away, I saw Warren holding Emma, an echo of the
pietà. I hoped she‘d be all right. Hoped it was all worth it. Because the cost had been so
hideously high. Eirene needed to die, I truly believed that. But those men . . . and I didn‘t even
want to think about Kevin and what would happen at any hospital they might take him to. Even
if they saved his life, he‘d be put in the state asylum. I wouldn‘t wish that on my worst enemy.
I knew why Kevin and Warren did what they‘d done. But that didn‘t make it hurt any less.
What a frickin‘ mess. There were bound to be legal repercussions; I doubted even Kevin‘s
―company‖ could sweep this much crap under the rug. If they didn‘t, I was so screwed.
In the distance I could hear the chopper coming back. A little bit of dust stirred and I
shivered, more from memory than cold. Although, come to think on it, it was a little chilly.
One of the medics finally made it over to me. He squatted down a little ways from me, much
as Bruno had done. ―How you doin‘?‖ he asked in a voice that was pure Jersey. It was even
worse than Bruno‘s cousin Little Joey, which was saying something.
It made me smile, for no reason at all.
―You with me? Having trouble focusing?‖ The medic flicked a penlight in my eyes. It hurt
and I found myself hissing.
He saw the fangs and jerked back his hands. ―Sorry.‖
―S‘all right.‖
―You‘re Graves, then. My name‘s Gaetano. We were told you‘ve got vampire healing?‖ He
made it a question.
―Yeah. But I do better when I‘ve eaten and it‘s been a while. I need to eat more when I push
myself, too.‖
―You had a pretty tough time here. You having any bloodlust?‖ He sounded so calm about
it. Matter-of-fact, as if he dealt with that sort of thing all the time. How bizarre.
―Not yet.‖
He gave me a crooked smile. ―I‘d like to keep it that way. Let‘s get you out of here so you
can get something to eat.‖ He rose, extending his hand. I took it and he pulled me to my feet.
With his help, I was able to walk to the helicopter.
27
I sat on the front porch of my grandmother‘s . . . no, wait, my house, watching the sun set. As
always, Gran was in the old metal rocker. I‘d brought out one of her kitchen chairs. We were
drinking margaritas strong enough to knock a mule on its ass. I‘d never known my gran to
drink. But she hadn‘t needed directions to make the drinks. We‘d agreed to get together and
celebrate the sale of the house going through
She‘d been oddly quiet for nearly an hour now. Well, maybe not so oddly. She loves this
house. She and Gramps had moved here right after they got married. But it wasn‘t as if she
were moving out. I wouldn‘t do that to her and I‘d told her so.
―I spoke to your mother this morning.‖ Gran took a long pull of her drink. She sounded odd.
Sad. Of course she‘d been like that a lot lately, as the realization sank in that Mom‘s case was
pretty much hopeless.
―She told me she‘s taking the plea bargain. She doesn‘t want me spending any more of my
money on her defense.‖
I stared at her. I know my jaw was hanging open. I shut it and stammered a little, trying to
wrap my head around the implications of what she‘d just said. ―B-but . . . if you knew that,
why did you sell? We could‘ve canceled it.‖
She shook her head and then patted my hand like she had when I‘d first asked her about
dating—that little pat that said, There’s so much you don’t understand, sweetie. ―You need a
place to live, Celie. A solid place of your own where you can settle in and feel safe. This house
isn‘t anything fancy, but you can hear the ocean in the mornings and its always been a safe
place for you. Right now you need that.‖
Really, I couldn‘t do this to her. I couldn‘t. ―But Gran—‖
She talked over the top of me. ―This old place was getting to be too much for me anyway. I
can‘t hardly keep up with the yard work and you just can‘t find kids willing to mow or pick
weeds like you used to. Used to be kids wanted to earn money. Now they just spend their
parents‘.‖ She shook her head and took another drink.
I didn‘t know what to say. I couldn‘t think. She was leaving? Was she sick? ―I was talking
to some of the other church ladies and there‘s a real nice senior apartment complex over on
Sherman Road. It‘s got a shuttle to church every Sunday and once a week to the grocery stores
and the mall. It‘s right on the bus line, too, so I still can get out and about if I want to. And no,
I‘m not sick.‖
Was she telepathic? Or did she just know me that well? ―You‘ve been thinking about this for
a while.‖
She nodded. ―A bit. Since before Lana got in trouble this last time. But I didn‘t want to give
up the house and I . . . well, I know it‘ll sound silly to you, but . . . I wanted her to have a home
to come back to if she needed it.‖
It didn‘t sound silly. It sounded sad. Heartbreaking. My throat got tight just hearing her say
it. I couldn‘t talk and I blinked back tears. She saw that and gave me a sad smile.
―You haven‘t talked much about Bruno these past couple days. Still haven‘t ironed things
out?‖
It was my turn to stare out at the flowers for a long moment. A thousand thoughts and
emotions ran through me. ―I‘m not sure we can.‖
―She lied to him, Celie. She was a siren; she befuddled his mind and she lied. That‘s not his
fault. He was trying to do the right thing, the honorable thing.‖
―Yeah, Gran, I know. But that‘s not really the problem.‖ I‘d figured out what was really
bugging me. ―It‘s that he didn‘t include me in the decision. We‘d been thinking of a future
together, planning to give it another try. When she told him, he could have called me. It‘s not
like I hadn‘t known there might be someone else in his life. We could have tried to come up
with options, tried to work something out. Maybe adopting the baby, my being a stepmom. Or
me moving east so he could be part of raising the kid. Oh, I know Eirene
wouldn‘t have gone
along with it, even if there had really been a baby. But I would‘ve been part of the process.
Instead, he made the decision by himself and walked away. He thinks that‘s okay. Maybe it is
for some people. But not for me.‖
She sighed. ―I understand. But I hate to see you hurting, punkin. I really do. Have you at
least talked to Kevin and the Professor?‖
It was my turn to sigh. Kevin had survived and wasn‘t in a cage. The men who‘d rescued us
were from his employer and they‘d taken him to one of their private medical facilities. Emma
had told me. She‘d thought I‘d want to know.
―No, Gran. I haven‘t talked to them. And I‘m not going to. I‘ll visit Emma. None of this was
her fault. But not Kevin and not Warren. That‘s over.‖
Gran didn‘t ask about Creede, and frankly, I wouldn‘t have known what to say if she had.
He‘d gone back to the business and thrown himself into work. Miller was gone, but Creede
wanted to keep the Miller & Creede name intact. He‘d probably find another partner, but he
said he had to try to give his friend‘s torture and death some meaning. It was noble of him, I
suppose. But I hadn‘t heard from him since that night. Maybe I never would again. And maybe
that was best.
The phone rang just then. I glanced at the caller ID display. It was Alex. Was I ready to talk
to her yet or was even that too much right now? I let it ring again while I decided.
I put the ringing phone on the railing and took another sip of lime and tequila. Maybe
tomorrow. Right now, I was out of energy.
Another long sigh from Gran punctuated the final ring before the call went to voice mail.
―Baby, you need to accept that people aren‘t perfect. They make mistakes. And when they do,
you have to forgive them. And you need to forgive yourself, too. Maybe that most of all.‖
―I‘m not sure I can. I did . . . things.‖ I hadn‘t told her about most of what had happened in
the desert. I hadn‘t wanted to burden her, for one thing. But I was still ashamed. What Eirene
and I did to those men was horrible. I hadn‘t even tried to check on them. I was afraid of what
I‘d find out. I‘m not normally that chicken, but there are some things a person is better off not
knowing. Besides, my only contact to that crew was Kevin. I did find it rather ominous that I
hadn‘t heard so much as a peep on the news. Or from the police. Another good reason not to
answer phones.
I may not have told her what had happened, but my gran is no fool. She gave me a
penetrating look, speaking slowly, choosing her words very carefully. ―You did things. Maybe
terrible things. But you are not a bad person. I know that to my very soul. You did what you
had to do to survive. You defended yourself and you saved Emma Landingham. God knows
there‘s evil in this world. I‘ve seen it. You‘ve seen it.‖
No shit, I‘d seen evil. Unfortunately, I probably would again. Creede and Bruno couldn‘t
find the summoning disk. Had someone taken it during the confusion, or had it buried itself so
as not to be found until at the right time?
A shudder overtook me as Gran continued, ―But you’re not evil, Celie. Give it time. It‘ll get
better if you let it. But you‘ve got to forgive yourself, learn what you can from it, and let it go.‖
She let out a deep sigh and it was enough to break my heart. ―Because life doesn‘t stop, baby.
Not for you, not for anybody. And that‘s a fact.‖