The Judah Black Novels Box Set

by E. A. Copen

  “Less than five minutes,” Han’s voice droned. “I expected more. Although you seem to be free of any ill effects, I can’t judge without a full examination.”

  “Over my dead body,” Sal growled. He’d climbed out of the broken wall and stood beside Han, dusting his arms off.

  Han regarded him coolly and then shrugged. “As you wish. I have other patients.”

  As if in response, there was a whimper in the crib in front of me, a whimper that turned into a toddler’s cry. In the bed across the room, Zoe stirred. Her eyelids fluttered open, but her eyes remained unfocused. Sal walked over to the crib and looked down at the crying child, his expression unsure. “Don’t just stand there,” Zoe said in a groggy tone. “Pick up your daughter.”

  Sal’s chest heaved with a deep breath, and he rolled his shoulders. Then he reached down into the crib to pick Mia up. It was awkward for him at first as he tried to figure out what to do with the squirming twenty-five-pound bundle of toddler. He got Mia to his shoulder where she could look over and see her mother and the distressed, desperate crying settled a little as she found her fingers to chew on.

  Han came over with his stethoscope and pressed it to Mia’s back and chest. Sal growled at him. The doctor rolled his eyes and backed away.

  Sal looked at me, smiled, gave me a thumbs-up, and then took Mia to see her mom.

  Over the course of the next few minutes, Marcus made a lot of phone calls. A nurse came down with a wheelchair, and between Hunter and the nurse, they lifted me into it, strapping me upright. A quick once-over from the nurse gave me a clean bill of health, although she said I should stay overnight to be sure.

  Han made the same call for Mia. They needed to make sure she wasn’t going to have any more seizures or show more symptoms. Sal wouldn’t have it. Han started to argue that he was not the custodial parent and therefore could not make medical decisions on Mia’s behalf, but Zoe cut him off. “He is her father,” she snapped. “And he knows what’s best for her.”

  “Your position on the issue is much changed.” Han sneered. It was the first time I’d heard him be openly nasty with anyone. “As of yesterday, you were ready to fight to keep him away from her. I wonder if your condition isn’t affecting your judgment.”

  “Doctor Han,” Marcus called from the doorway, and Han’s eyes rolled to him. “Perhaps we should deal with the body in the room before there is more explaining to be done.”

  Han frowned at Sal and Zoe, sighed, and walked over to join Marcus. “Put her on the gurney. I’ll notify Maintenance to turn up the incinerator.” He turned back to Zoe. “Unless, of course, the resident wendigo prefers a diet of fae?”

  Zoe closed her eyes. “Don’t you think my diet has caused enough problems for you and your staff, Doctor Han?”

  “True enough. Incinerator it is.”

  Han and Marcus left, hauling what was left of Cynthia out with them.

  Reed glanced at me, raised his eyebrows, and gestured to Zoe. When I nodded, he came and turned my chair so that I was facing Zoe, pushing me closer. Then he bowed his head and stepped out of the room.

  “Zoe, you and I have unfinished business,” I said.

  That made her chuckle. “You’ve been watching too many Tarantino movies with my ex-husband.”

  “I’m not the one who named my kid after a Pulp Fiction character.”

  Her eyes were closed, but the corners of her mouth turned up into a genuine smile.

  “So,” I continued, “how do you want to settle this?”

  “Neither of us is in any shape for a fight, are we?”

  “Neither of you needs to fight,” Sal said. “Not everything needs to be settled with blood.”

  “I do.” Zoe opened her eyes and met Sal’s. “I won’t worsen, but I won’t heal either without feeding. My monster will eventually surface, and I won’t be able to control her. I will attack more people. It’s only a question of when. I will draw negative attention to Mia.” She turned her head away. “And it’s difficult to be a good mother when you see your offspring as a potential food source.”

  “I’m not going to kill you,” Sal said firmly, his voice cold. “And if you think I would, you don’t know me. I won’t return hurt for hurt.”

  “She’s not asking you,” I said. “I did this. LeDuc might have made her what she is, but I left her to continue on when I could have stopped her.”

  “Judah, you can’t,” Sal said, shifting Mia in his arms. “She’s Mia’s mother.”

  Zoe tried for a tired smile. “I’m a monster, Sal. As long as I am alive, Mia will never be safe from me.” She reached up and touched Mia’s foot. Mia jerked her leg away and whimpered. “I haven’t been kind. My heart is ice. I am a ghost of who I was. Sal, I don’t know how to love her, but maybe you do.” She dropped her arm back to her face and wiped tears from the corner of her eyes. “She needs you and I-I need to die.”

  I unbuckled myself and pushed magick into my leg muscles so that I could stand. My legs were still wobbly and weak, but I managed with the help of Zoe’s bed rail. “Sal, take Mia outside.”

  “Judah—”

  “I know you don’t like it. I didn’t like it when you shot those two Vanguards in the back of the head, even though they needed to die. I need to do this. I don’t ask you to understand. I will ask you not to get in the way.”

  Sal’s throat worked as he tried to swallow the rest of his objections. He didn’t say anything as he pulled his lighter from his pocket and placed it on the bed next to Zoe. Then, he pulled Mia’s head closer to him, turned, and walked out of the room.

  Hunter moved to follow but stopped when I called his name. “Before you go,” I said, “I need you to hand me the rubbing alcohol.”

  The stainless-steel cart rattled as he searched it. A moment later, there was a white bottle of rubbing alcohol in my hand, and Hunter’s footsteps retreated quietly from the room.

  “Thank you for helping me,” Zoe said, although there was some bitterness in the way she bit it out. “I know I don’t deserve it.”

  “Sal deserved better. So did Mia.” I opened the bottle and held it out to her.

  She took it. “Yes, they did. But I’m a monster, Judah.” Zoe doused herself and held her hand out. I slapped the lighter into it. She stared at it. “Promise me you’ll take care of my daughter.”

  “As if she were my own,” I promised.

  She smiled. “Then I know she’ll be well-loved and happy.”

  Zoe struck the lighter.

  She didn’t scream.

  If it looked like I had shed any tears over Zoe’s passing, it was only because the sprinkler system kicked on shortly after she stopped moving.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  I didn’t stay in the hospital overnight, despite everyone’s concern. My body hated me enough that I did fill a prescription for painkillers and took a half-dose on the ride back to Sal’s. He’d given me enough healing that I could walk, but I wouldn’t be in any shape to box with monsters for at least a few days. With Hunter squished between us, Mia in my arms, Neil Young playing on the radio, and the gentle whir of tires passing over the road at highway speed, I put my head against the window and closed my eyes. Dead tired or not, I still couldn’t fall asleep with the radio on.

  “So, what’s going to happen tonight?” Hunter asked Sal.

  “Chanter left instructions,” Sal answered. He sounded as tired as I felt. Maybe more. “We’ll lay him out in the shroud, light the fire, and then go out to hunt.”

  “I meant me.” Hunter’s weight shifted in the seat. “What do I do?”

  Sal was silent for a few moments as if he were considering his answer carefully. “You remember when we went out into the desert, and I showed you how to talk to your wolf? You been doing that?”

  “He’s kind of an asshole,” Hunter grunted, and I smiled.

  “We all are.” Sal chuckled. “But if you can talk, you can listen. When you Change, and you’re going to tonight, you let him do all
the talking. You do the listening.”

  “I still have to do it naked? And with people watching?”

  “Why? You got someone you want to impress besides Amy-what’s-her-face?”

  “Shh,” Hunter hissed through his teeth.

  I cracked open an eye. “Who’s Amy?”

  Hunter glared at Sal. “Screw you.”

  Sal gave a playful growl. “Watch it, kid.”

  “Screw you, sir.”

  “That’s better.”

  Hunter shifted and put his head on my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re not dead, you know.”

  “Me, too,” I said. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think your wolf’s so bad.”

  Sal turned his head, the worry line appearing on his forehead. “You met Hunter’s wolf? This is news to me.”

  “Kind of,” I said, waving my hand. “I’m still not sure how much of that was real and how much was a vivid death hallucination. Life flashing before my eyes and stuff.”

  “What’s your take on that, Hunter?”

  Hunter shrugged one shoulder but didn’t answer. A long moment passed in silence. I almost drifted off to sleep.

  “What are we going to do about the house?” Hunter asked.

  I cracked open one eye, but Sal answered for me. “With everything that’s going on, the pack still hasn’t managed to finish with it. The holes in the wall still need to be filled. Needs paint. You’ll need new furniture, too.” He glanced at me. “And honestly, I could use the help with Mia.”

  Hunter’s eyes lit up. “Cool! Are we moving in?”

  “No,” I interjected, and then reconsidered briefly. “Not yet. Just until the house is finished.”

  Sal smiled and gave a mock sigh. “I’m going to need a bigger vehicle if I’m going to haul two kids and a human around.”

  “And a car seat,” I pointed out. “Maybe you ought to get a big SUV and put a stick family on the back. Throw in one of those baby on board signs.”

  He snorted quietly. “I think a good-sized and reliable sedan will do. I ain’t ready to fill up a whole SUV. Unless you want to.” It was a playful dig, one he wouldn’t have made if he were still annoyed at me.

  Sal hadn’t been too upset at Zoe’s passing. After all, he’d already mourned her twice, although that didn’t mean he wanted her to die. I saw the conflict in his face. Zoe needed to go, and both of us knew it. Still, she was his daughter’s mother, even if she’d been a bad one. One day, we would have to explain to Mia how we’d let her mother kill herself. She’d probably hate us both for it.

  In the meantime, she’d be the happiest kid in Paint Rock. Sal had already called half the pack to tell them about Mia. Nina offered him Leo’s playpen until we could get to the store and buy a proper crib. She’d also promptly bullied her way into organizing a welcome home party for Mia. I didn’t tell her or Sal, but it was good to hear some excitement in her voice after losing Chanter. Sal was going to be a great dad, even if he had probably gotten in a little over his head. I was going to wait a few days before I told him how hard potty training was going to be on him. The poor guy deserved some peace.

  Hunter groaned and rolled his eyes. “Get a room, you two.”

  “Already did,” Sal answered, beaming.

  Hunter made a gagging sound.

  “You know, there're a couple things I don’t get,” Sal said after he’d finished laughing and a few beats of silence passed. “Cynthia. She was trying to kill Marcus. You said you thought she was working for that faerie asshole who showed up at Aisling when you were done dealing with Crux, but what’s he got against Marcus?”

  “Beats me,” I said, shrugging. “All I know is that Marcus has something he wants. And Seamus is bad news. Seriously bad news. I’m sure he’s one of the faeries who gets a name in Irish myth. A name and a pointy hat to go with it.”

  “Faerie king. Jesus, Judah. You know how to make enemies, don’t you?”

  “Go big or go home.”

  “So, you think we’ll be seeing him again? Seamus, I mean.”

  I nodded and sat up. “He clearly didn’t get what he wanted from Marcus. From what I gather, he’s trying to pull a coup in Faerie. Overthrow his brother. To do it, he needs whatever Marcus has. So far, Marcus has refused to tell me what that thing is. You can bet he’ll be back but he’ll be more careful. If he sends more lackeys, they’ll be heavier hitters than Cynthia. He might even come do the dirty work himself.”

  “That’s…a bad thing, right?” Hunter said, glancing at me.

  “Depends,” I answered. “When it comes to the fae, I’d rather deal directly than play power games. Nobody here is a match for Seamus if I’m right about who he is. We’d have to go to Faerie for help. I don’t like the idea of that. Personally, I’d sooner see Marcus just hand over whatever it is Seamus needs. We don’t need more trouble, and I could use a day off.”

  “Amen.” Sal struck the steering wheel. “And you need more than a day off. You need a vacation. Maybe a romantic weekend in the mountains. No interruptions.”

  “You better check your expectations, mister.” I let myself smile. “You’re about to take on a toddler. Any expectations you had about free time, money, and privacy, you can kiss goodbye.”

  “Come on,” said Sal. “How bad can it be?”

  Doc Ramis brought Chanter’s body out to the house an hour or so before dusk, and Sal disappeared to prepare it. Hunter went with him. Valentino, Nina, and Shauna built the pyre in Chanter’s backyard. Daphne, Leo, and Ed manned the picnic table looking out over the desert. I went to join them.

  “Judah,” said Daphne in the form of a greeting, and she rose to hug me. “It’s good to see you.”

  “Good to see you smile, Daphne.” I gave Leo his high five and sat down next to Ed. “How’s the leg?”

  He didn’t look up at me. “Still hurts.”

  “You hear anything from Mara?”

  Ed shook his head. I hadn’t expected anything different, but if I didn’t ask, he’d be even more upset. The poor guy was heartbroken over her disappearance and blamed me for it. He wasn’t entirely incorrect.

  “You been working out, Ed?” I asked. “You look…different.”

  Ed’s nose twitched. “I’m going to go help with the wood.” He got up.

  I watched him limp away and couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret.

  “He’ll forgive you eventually,” Daphne said, sitting down next to me. “Werewolves are good at holding grudges.” She pulled Leo onto her lap and let him play with the beaded necklace she wore. “So, you and Sal?”

  I smiled. Daphne and I launched into mundane talk, the kinds of things normal women talk about. We talked about our significant others and all the small things that irritated us about them. She told me about some coupons she had for baby stuff and said she’d bring them over the next day for me to use. Sal, she said, was a great guy, but like most men, he wouldn’t have a clue how to shop for little girls.

  After a short conversation about the benefits of cloth diapers versus disposables, she asked the question I knew she really wanted to ask from the beginning. “So, what was it like? Being dead?”

  I stared off into the desert, not really focusing on anything. How could I sum up everything I’d experienced for her? “Time gets all funny,” I finally decided. “A minute here was like four days on the other side. There were other people there. People I miss.”

  “Alex?” she asked. I nodded, and Daphne wrapped her soft hands around mine. “You should talk about him. It keeps his memory alive.”

  “I know. It’s just, that was a different place and time. I don’t want to make Hunter sad about it. I don’t want Sal to think I’m drawing any comparisons. I love Sal, but I also still love Alex.”

  “And so you hold back. You don’t mean to, but I know you do.” She smiled until dimples appeared in her cheeks. “Love and relationships only work when we make ourselves vulnerable. Anyone worth loving is worth loving all the way, Judah. You know, if yo
u ever need to talk, I’m here. Free of charge.”

  I patted her hand. “You know, maybe I’ll take you up on that offer.”

  Sal, Valentino, Nina, and Hunter bore Chanter out on a litter constructed of wood and a knotted blanket I’d seen on Chanter’s bed. He was wrapped in a burial shroud of gauze. We stood silently as they lowered Chanter onto the pyre of wood and piled around him his most cherished belongings. Feather fans, gourds, an old guitar, a carved wooden box full of powders and tinctures.

  The funeral dirge Sal sang for Chanter was the most beautiful song I had ever heard, even if I didn’t know the language being spoken. While he sang, everyone who had come stood in a line to pay their respects. Each person, on reaching the front of the line, placed with Chanter’s body a small token. It was tradition, Sal had told me.

  I asked what I should select. Sal only shrugged and said I would know it when I saw it. I had spent hours sorting through the things the pack had boxed up in my house, trying to think of what I might leave that would be appropriate. Just like Sal said, I knew it when I saw it.

  When I reached the front of the line, I took a simple gold ring from my pocket and placed it with the other trinkets. I didn’t know if the ring itself would have meant anything to Chanter, but he’d often said that funerals are not for the dead. They are healing for the living. There was no greater scar on my life than the loss of my husband, Alex. Chanter had brought his spirit back to me once in a way, and again, stood beside me as I finally faced the memory of his death. He had guided me through my own grief. It was time for me to say goodbye, and I couldn’t do that without that symbolic gesture.

  The procession finished, and the rest of us spread into a sparse semi-circle while Sal lit the pyre. His song finished, he turned and put his back to the flames, facing us. “Today, we grieve Chanter’s loss. Nothing can fill the void he left. I won’t try. I will not be Chanter. I am not as wise or as strong, and I don’t have his patience. I can’t promise you that. What I will promise you is my loyalty, my dedication, first and foremost, to this pack. I will protect this pack and all that is ours. I claim leadership of this pack. Let any who wish to issue a challenge speak now.”