The Judah Black Novels Box Set

by E. A. Copen

  “What happened to me?”

  “You had a pretty bad concussion,” she said. “A bunch of cuts and bruises, too. Dislocated shoulder, dehydration... You're not looking too shabby now, considering.”

  “I'll guess I'm lucky, huh?” I answered in a hoarse voice I barely recognized as my own.

  “I'm sure they'll be releasing you soon, honey.”

  “Great.”

  Satisfied, she patted my shoulder, adjusted something on a monitor behind my head, and left.

  I rolled my head back over to look at Tindall. “Wedding or funeral?”

  “Huh?”

  “You look like Heaven warmed over. I figure you shaved and dressed up for something. So, is it a wedding or a funeral?”

  “Grand jury, actually.” Tindall scowled and jerked the physician's stool over so he could sit on it. “Someone had to go and talk the D.A. into not charging you and your merry band of vigilante werewolves with murder and kidnapping.”

  “Great,” I said, closing my eyes. “No good deed goes unpunished, does it?”

  “You dodged a bullet this time. If BSI hadn't had your back though, Judah, this could have gone a hundred shades of wrong. The state would have preferred locking up psychos like LeDuc.”

  “Bodies,” I muttered, my head still a little blurry. “Did they find any bodies? Specifically, a woman with her insides cut out?”

  Tindall grimaced and glanced at all the tubes coming and going from me. “They must have you on some good drugs, Black. There were some bodies in those tunnels, but nothing like that.”

  My heart sank, but I nodded.

  Tindall continued in a careful tone. “Zoe Mathias is missing, along with Sara Greenlee, although we did locate the Garcia boy and the Summers girl.”

  “How'd I even get out?”

  “Valentino. Carried you halfway back to town before we caught up with him. Everyone thought you were dead for all the blood. Turns out you're more resilient than most. Least, it seems that way.”

  “Valentino. I owe him.”

  I rubbed my head and tried to file a mental note to push the paperwork through to make Leo legal. The same for the Summers girl, and every other illegal on the reservation. I'd catch hell for doing it after the fact and probably ruffle enough feathers back at headquarters to get me put on a watch list, but I didn't care. There was no reason for the children to have to pay for their parents' mistakes, not again.

  “How'd he even know where to find us?”

  “Valentino caught your scent. He led us to the general area and then took off like a bat out of hell. Took us damn near four more hours before we stumbled into that cave system. Quite the setup he had down there.”

  Tindall fidgeted with the brim of his hat. “Listen, Black. Things like this, they can't keep happening. You've got to start trusting the department more. Next time, I might not be able to talk the D.A. down. I don't mean to tell you how to do your job. I need to know that you know where the line is.”

  I turned my head toward the door and away from Tindall. My whole body ached. My shoulder felt like it had been run over by a truck, and I was exhausted. The last thing I wanted at that point was a lecture from him about how to do my job. There wasn't any way around killing Zoe and LeDuc. Or Ozzie, for that matter, or Thomas. Hell, I hadn't even killed LeDuc, not really. That had been Reed. He pushed the button.

  And yet, people had died. I should have felt some sense of responsibility, some kind of loss. I should have felt guilty. Some of those people, I could have saved them. That should have made me feel bad but it didn't. I was glad they were dead. Given the chance to do it all over again, the only thing I would change was that I would have stood over LeDuc and watched him burn to a crisp.

  I thought about what Zoe had called me: cold and calculating. Maybe she knew something I didn't.

  “I know where the line is,” I said through clenched teeth at Tindall.

  “Good, because that's what I told the grand jury and your superiors when they called.” He stood as if to leave.

  “Wait. You're not going to ask me for a statement?”

  Tindall shrugged. “I assume it'll all be in your report, Black. As your agency has been so kind as to remind me, you don't have to report to me or answer any of my questions. You're a federal employee, and my cooperation is not only expected but required. How was it they put the last part? The details and specifics of your investigations are matters of national security and will be made available to local law enforcement on a need to know basis.”

  I laughed. It hurt. “Or over beers. When I get out of this bed, how about I buy you one and tell you all about it?”

  “Love to, Black, if you make it a root beer.”

  “Still?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “With the job you do? How the hell do you sleep at night without nursing a bottle?”

  “We all have our demons,” Tindall said, placing his hat on his head.

  He walked toward the door, pausing only when I called after him. “Tindall, what happened to LeDuc's research files?”

  Tindall made a sour face. “Drive was wiped clean by the time we got there, everything downloaded to some secure, off-site location. Why? What the hell was he doing out there?”

  I closed my eyes. LeDuc and Maria were right. Marcus probably had mined the data. There was no good use for those kinds of experiments. Eventually, I knew I would have to confront Marcus Kelley, but it didn't have to be today. Today, I had to rest and get better.

  “Nothing,” I told Tindall.

  He turned his head sideways, the pale blue light of the monitor holding his face in profile. “Whatever it is, Black, let it die,” he said to me in a hushed tone. “Please, take those doubts and tuck them away. There are dangerous people about.” He walked out.

  I settled back into my bed, determined to go back to sleep until a nurse came by. Then, I'd pester her about my condition and expected release date and time. As bad as I felt, I was fairly sure there wasn't anything wrong with me that I couldn't treat at home.

  A knock on the door jerked me out of my semi-sleep. Not two seconds later, a pair of familiar arms wrapped themselves around my neck. “Mom!”

  “Hunter!” I said with both relief and surprise and hugged him back as best I could without bending the IV in my arm. “Are you all right? How's your finger?”

  He raised his hand proudly, showing that his pinky finger was one knuckle short. Good. LeDuc hadn't taken the whole thing, then. “The doctors told me I could get a prosthetic to stick on it if I wanted. I think it's kind of cool. Oh, and Valentino, Ed, and Leo are fine, too. Valentino told me to tell you to stop by when you get out. He wants to talk.”

  I glanced over to the doorway to see Sal leaning against it. He gave me a casual nod and moved away from the door frame to go.

  “Wait,” I said. “You don't have to go.”

  Hunter leaned back away from me finally. “Guess what? Sal let me ride on his motorcycle!”

  “Only in the driveway,” Sal was quick to add when I gave him a stern look. “And with a helmet on.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. “You've been in and out for a few days. With Chanter still here, I've been looking out for Hunter.”

  “Thank you,” I said and smiled.

  “You're welcome.” There was an awkward silence for a moment before he started patting himself down. “Hey, kid, do me a favor. I could use a cup of Joe. Maybe you could sneak one in for your mom, too, huh? I'm sure all they're going to feed her over the next twenty-four is going to be that nasty green Jell-O.”

  Hunter made a gagging sound. “I bet that's even worse than your eggplant, mom.”

  “Just for that, Eggplant Parmesan is the first thing I'm making when we get home.” I ruffled his hair, and he wriggled away before I could hug him again.

  Sal handed him four bucks as he passed by and gave him some quick directions to the cafeteria before sending him on his way.

  “Thank you,” I said again as soon as Hunter was gone. “I mean i
t.”

  “Not a big deal. Gives me something else to do besides fight with lawyers and insurance companies all damn day.” He paced over and sat on the same stool Tindall had sat on.

  “Lawyers and insurance?”

  “Yeah. If you ever thought a divorce was a legal mess, try having your ex disappear.” He rubbed his forehead. “Apparently, despite the divorce, I was still the sole beneficiary of her will and life insurance policies. Problem is, with no body, nobody wants to execute her last wishes without an investigation. I’ve been working with them, but I have a feeling it’s still going to be months before anybody is satisfied enough to leave me alone. I don’t even want the money. I want to know what happened, you know?” He sighed.

  I swallowed and tried not to remember slicing into her. “Sal, I'm sorry.”

  “Don't be. The Zoe I knew has been dead for a long time.” He gave a bitter chuckle. “You know what's funny? Everyone keeps saying how sorry they are for my loss as if they expect me to be in mourning. I'm not. Maybe I should be, but I'm not. I already grieved over losing her. You know what I felt when they told me she was missing and presumed dead?” He paused as if he was waiting for me to ask. “Relief,” he continued when I didn't. “I was relieved. As if her death was more real than us splitting up ever was. I should be more upset, shouldn't I?”

  I understood what he was saying. Sal wasn't saying he wasn't upset or hurt by Zoe's death. He wasn't angry or sad. He was numb to it, the same way I'd gotten used to it, the same way doctors and nurses do. When you saw so much death and pain, it was harder to continue to pretend to feel than to go through the motions.

  Even back when I lost Alex, I felt the same way. Sure, the first few months were hard. Eventually, it got old, people asking me if I was going to be okay. The way people would smile and ask how I was in gentle, hushed tones as if I were some sort of fragile soul about to shatter at any second. Every time they asked how I was, I knew what they really meant to ask was whether I was still grieving over the loss of my husband. Alex's death didn't break me. In a lot of ways, it made me stronger.

  “No,” I said and reached out to put my hand over his. “If there's one thing I've learned doing this job, Sal, it's to never doubt your gut. Zoe wasn't herself in the end. Whoever she was, it wasn't there anymore.”

  “She wasn't a monster,” Sal said, staring at the floor. “Not always. I wish... I mean, they tell me they found a lot of blood at the scene that matches her type. Even if she did take all those kids, and even if she was involved with what happened to the Summers, I wouldn't have wished that on her or the baby, human or no. She used to be a good person. What makes a person change like that?”

  I thought of her last words, the last hour of her life. Zoe had redeemed herself in many ways. Hunter and I wouldn't have gotten out of there without her help. I knew that Zoe hadn't died a monster. Desperation had changed her and a loss only a mother could understand. Even still, her last thoughts had been for the welfare of her child, a child that Reed had carried off to only God knew where.

  I tightened my hands into fists, thinking about it. If he had harmed one hair on that child's head, after the Hell I'd put that woman through, after the promises I'd made her...

  But that was a different matter. I couldn't ever tell Sal what had really happened down there, that it was my fault Zoe was dead. It wasn't my right to decide between Zoe's life and the child's, and Zoe wasn't in her right mind. He might never forgive me. Even if he could somehow understand, telling him meant breaking a promise to a dying woman. The world would be a simpler place if he simply believed she died broken, confused, and hating him. Zoe had been right about that much.

  “I don't know,” I lied. “Some people are born under a bad sign, I guess.” Sal nodded, and I cleared my throat before pulling my hand away. “Chanter. How is he?”

  Sal seemed relieved by the change in topic. “Off the ventilator. It was hairy for a few days. They pulled three silver slugs out of him. The doctors say...” He trailed off and rubbed his forehead again. I could tell by the way he did that there was bad news.

  “What?”

  “Cancer,” Sal said quietly. “Stage three lung cancer. They say it's starting to spread into his lymph nodes.” He rubbed his forehead. “And the stubborn bastard is checking himself out against doctor's orders.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “Werewolves heal.”

  “Not from everything. There are some things even we can’t beat.”

  Suddenly, how ill Chanter had been in the Way with us made sense. “Sal, I'm sorry. Whatever you need, I'm here. Don't be afraid to talk to me about anything.”

  “Says the woman in the hospital for a bump on the head,” he smiled, and I knew everything was going to be okay.

  I asked about everyone while we were waiting on Hunter. Sal didn't know anything about Reed. The good father had become a shut-in over the past few days. Ed's legs didn't heal right, and the doctors had to re-break and reset them. They'd healed mostly by now, although the doctors insisted he get physical therapy and wear a cast for a while to be on the safe side. Daphne was personally looking after Ed to make sure he followed doctors’ orders. Other than the physical trauma that was healing, Ed was shaken but coping, according to Sal.

  “How's he dealing?” I asked when we came to the subject of Hunter. “Did he say anything about what he saw?”

  “No,” said Sal, shaking his head. “I asked. He won't talk about it. Acts like nothing ever happened. That kid worries the hell out of me. You know it's eventually going to hit him, all the hell he went through. When it does...”

  “I know.” There was another long pause. “Is he going to be okay? Should I be worried?”

  “I'll tell you a secret about pre-teen and teenage boys.” He dropped the blinds he was peering through and turned back around. “Every mother should be worried. If she isn't, she's not doing her job.”

  He looked like he wanted to say something else, but his eyes drifted back toward the door and he stopped himself. “I guess you're popular today.”

  I turned to look at the doorway. Gideon Reed stood there holding a cup of coffee, his hand on Hunter's shoulder.

  “Reed,” I said and sat up. I was a little dizzy but not too bad, considering.

  He was both the first and last person I wanted to speak to. Before everyone went around, congratulating each other on a case well solved, I needed to know exactly what he'd done with Zoe's baby. That wasn't a very priestly thing to do. I needed to deal with all that, but I'd hoped to have a full day of consciousness first. One out of two wasn't bad.

  But Reed didn't address me. His words were for Sal, and they were as cold as ice. “I've been asked to inform you that visiting hours are over.”

  Sal frowned. “Then why are you here?”

  “Those rules don't apply to clergy and immediate family.”

  Hunter wriggled free of Reed's grasp and darted into the room, placing the coffee on the ledge of the handwash sink as he passed it. He put his arms around me and whispered, “I don't like him. He creeps me out.”

  Sal took a step closer to me. “You need anything? I can stay awhile if you want, make sure no one bothers you.”

  I hugged my son back tightly. “Take care of Hunter. I'll be home soon.”

  “But I don't want to go,” Hunter said. “I want to stay here with you. Now that you're awake, you need someone to keep you company. I can read to you. There's a whole shop full of books downstairs.”

  “Hunter...” I pulled him away from him and gave him a stern look. “You're old enough to understand that Father Reed and I have some things we need to talk about. Work things.”

  “But you're in the hospital. You shouldn't be working.” There were genuine anger and distrust creeping up in Hunter's voice. Even I could tell he was a stone's throw away from turning and growling at the priest.

  I felt a twinge of pride, knowing I'd raised my boy up well enough to know what Reed did was wrong.

  Sal pa
ced around the bed and put a heavy hand on Hunter's shoulder. “Let's give them some space, kiddo. Your mom's a tough lady. I'm pretty sure she can still rattle his clock if she needs to.” He directed Hunter toward the door and mouthed to me that he'd be in the hallway if I needed him.

  Reed waited until they were out of sight before closing the door. He didn't come to sit like Sal and Tindall had done, but waited by the door, one hand folded over the other, letting the silence grow thick. “You're angry.”

  “That's the understatement of the century,” I mumbled and crossed my arms. “What the hell happened back there? I thought this whole case was about saving kids, and you turn into a kidnapper? How does that make you any better than Zoe and LeDuc?”

  He sighed. “Judah, if I were free to speak, I would tell you everything you wanted to know. There are certain truths I am not yet allowed to reveal.”

  “Certain truths?” I laughed. “What the hell? Don't feed me that line. After all I've gone through, don't you think I deserve more than a cop-out on your part? Where is the baby? Who has her, and why?”

  Reed was silent.

  “Can you at least promise me she's safe?”

  “She is safe,” Reed conceded with a nod. “And no harm will come to her. Please don't ask me anything else. I can't confirm or deny anything more.”

  I shook my head. “You're not allowed to pull that plausible deniability crap with me. I work for the government. Plausible deniability is my job. Tell me where you took her and why or I'll get a federal mandate to compel you to do so.”

  “The church has very good lawyers for a reason, Judah,” he said and walked over to the window.

  He stared out it in silence with his arms crossed for a moment. The orange light of the setting sun lit up his profile. For a moment, he looked very pale and very thin, as if he hadn't seen a plate of food or the light of day in all his life.

  “Fine. Keep your secrets. If you didn't come down here to sate my curiosity and apologize, then why the hell are you here?”

  “To warn you.” He faced me with bright sapphires glowing in his eyes. The light was there a moment and gone when he blinked. I don't know what it was, but it made me sit up and take notice. “There are going to be repercussions.”