Sacrifice

by Brigid Kemmerer

  Adam’s eyebrows went up. “Did you tell the police? Maybe they could hook you up with a sketch artist or something.”

  “No. It was too fast. I might have seen the side of his face.” Michael closed his eyes and tried to remember, but nothing was clear. It was as bad as when he’d been questioned by the fire marshal. No details. “I haven’t seen him before.”

  “But he had a bomb,” said Hunter. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. “And he had a gun, too. A Guide? Any pentagrams?”

  “None,” said Michael. “At least none that I’ve seen yet.” He paused. “Your father was a Guide. Would he have set a bomb to trap an Elemental?”

  Hunter thought it over. “According to my mother, he wasn’t in the business of trapping Elementals at all. He was more hands-on, anyway. A bomb wouldn’t have been his style. He used to tell me that guns made killing too impersonal, but they were a necessary evil. He said that even from a distance, a death should mean something. I can’t imagine him setting a bomb and walking away.” He shrugged, rolling his shoulders, thinking about it. “That said, he would have known where to find someone who could do it. He and my uncle were in the Marines together. Special forces. They had contacts—and that’s not uncommon among Fifths. Just because my dad wouldn’t have done it doesn’t mean there’s not someone out there who would. If I pull a trigger, I know where the bullet is going to end up—but not everyone is the same way. Some people don’t care about collateral damage. My dad used to talk about Elementals who could use their power to enhance a weapon, making them more dangerous. An Air Elemental could guide a missile, or spread an airborne agent, right? A Guide could use his power the same way. There’s a reason the Guides say the ends justify the means.”

  Adam was staring at him, his eyes a little wide.

  “What?” said Hunter.

  “Nothing.”

  Hunter gave him half a smile. “Gonna sleep with one eye open tonight?”

  “Maybe both.”

  Michael glanced between the two of them. “You didn’t go home?” he asked Hunter.

  “No.” He sobered. “If this guy hasn’t connected me to my mother, I don’t want to put her in danger. My grandparents, either. Their farmhouse is too remote—I’d never be able to control the perimeter, or escape quickly, if I needed to. Adam is right in town. I could disappear in a heartbeat if necessary.”

  “Thanks,” said Adam.

  Hunter grinned. “We. We could disappear in a heartbeat.”

  “I’d rather we not disappear at all,” said Adam.

  “Actually, that brings up an interesting point,” said Hunter.

  “Disappearing?” said Michael.

  “Yeah,” said Hunter. “Whoever did this destroyed the neighborhood on Thursday and blew up the bar on Friday. Today is Sunday. Where’d he go?”

  “I don’t know,” said Michael.

  “I have a better question,” said Adam.

  They both looked at him.

  “Where’s he going to strike next?”

  CHAPTER 18

  Sunday mornings were usually the only time Hannah had to herself: Sunday school for James, volunteer time at the church for her mother, and paperwork in the office for her father.

  The whole family had gone to church every Sunday when she was growing up. Hannah and her mother had participated in every potluck or holiday bazaar. Hannah had helped in the nursery school and sung Christmas carols with the children’s choir. When her father wasn’t on duty, he’d joined them.

  Then Hannah had gotten pregnant. It shouldn’t have been a massive scandal—but it had been, Suddenly, she hadn’t been welcome in the nursery school. When she’d tried to serve food at the pancake breakfast, she couldn’t miss the whispers. The judgmental looks. The comments behind her back.

  And to her face.

  Her mother had been supportive, but Hannah couldn’t take it. She’d stopped going. As soon as she’d stopped, her father had, too.

  So much for the perfect family.

  When James had grown old enough for Sunday school, Hannah’s mother had insisted, and since he had friends in the class, Hannah didn’t object. Luckily, he wasn’t a target of open mockery and shame. She usually used the time to catch up on classwork for the college courses she was taking—especially since she was already behind this week.

  But by the time she dropped James off at church, Hannah was ready to drop. She couldn’t remember if she’d missed one night or two nights of sleep, but whatever, she was going to take a shower and crash into bed for a few hours before heading to the firehouse.

  Her father’s car was waiting in the driveway when she got home.

  Hannah sighed. She didn’t want to get out of the car.

  His presence shouldn’t have left her with a sense of foreboding. They lived in the same house, for goodness sake—though they rarely did more than pass like ships in the night. Her father had spoken more to her at recent crime scenes than he’d said in weeks.

  Maybe she could just walk inside and go up to her room.

  She didn’t understand why every time she had to face him, it was as if the last five years vanished and she was seventeen again, walking around with shame riding on her shoulders.

  Well, if she sat out here in the car long enough, he’d definitely come to investigate.

  Hannah closed the car door as quietly as she could and eased into the house like she wanted to rob the place.

  This is pathetic. You’re pathetic.

  She didn’t see her father on the main level, so she quickly loped up the steps, springing silently on the balls of her feet. She could grab some sweats from her dresser and be in the bathroom before he even knew she was home.

  Except for the fact that her father was sitting on her bed.

  He looked like he’d been up all night, too. The few lines on his face seemed more pronounced, and she could see dark circles under his eyes.

  Hannah frowned at him. He hadn’t been in her room in years. “What are you doing?”

  “Where were you?” he said.

  “I took James to church,” she said.

  Something in his expression tightened. “He’s with your mother?”

  “Yeah. He’ll ride back with Mom after lunch like they always do. What’s with the look?”

  “Where were you earlier?”

  She shrugged and began digging through her dresser.

  “Hannah.”

  She looked at him. “What? I need to take a shower, Dad.”

  “I’m not stupid. Did you go back to the hospital?”

  “I’m an adult. It’s none of your business. ”

  His voice remained level. “I’m not trying to police your behavior. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

  “Yeah, okay. Is this more of your procedures nonsense?” She pulled a jersey T-shirt and cutoff sweats from the bottom of the drawer and went to move past him. I’m not trying to police your behavior. That was rich.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Hannah glared at him. “How could you report Michael to social services? How could you do that?”

  He looked incredulous. “How could I not, Hannah? His brothers are minors. You want me to leave them out on the street? You think that’s better?”

  “No, I expect you to show a little compassion. He’s not some stranger. He’s not some deadbeat dad who left a toddler home alone. He just lost his home, and you took his family away.”

  Her father’s face didn’t change. “Every time you talk like this, I wonder when you’re going to grow up.”

  “If that’s what growing up means, I hope I never do. Does Mom have any idea of what you did?”

  “Your mom has nothing to do with this.”

  “Sure. Because she would have done the right thing. She would have made them meals, or heck, she would have invited them to stay here. She would have treated them with kindness, instead of acting like Michael is some felon.”

  “This is an active investigation,
Hannah. People are dead. The FBI is involved. Do you understand that? Do you have any idea what a conflict of interest that would be?”

  “Yeah, I do. And somehow I still manage to treat people with common decency. You think you’re so smart that you figured out I was at the hospital all night? Clearly you weren’t concerned enough to head over there and find out for sure. You took his family away and you didn’t even wait to see if he was okay. He was alone, Dad.”

  Finally, her father’s expression shifted, but only for a second. “I’m not at fault here, Hannah. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “No, you never do. Trust me, I get the memo every day.”

  “I’m not going to argue this with you. I have a job to do. I did it. End of story.”

  “Yes, sir.” She saluted.

  He set his jaw, but he didn’t lose his composure. “Until this investigation is over, I don’t want you seeing Michael Merrick anymore. Do you understand?”

  “Are you for real?”

  “Yes, Hannah, I’m for real. This is a matter of life and death, and as much as I want to share details with you, I can’t. So I’m asking you—begging you—to listen to me. For once.”

  “For once. God, you really are an asshole. Move.” This time she didn’t even wait for a response. She just ducked under his arm and headed for the bathroom.

  She fully expected him to grab her arm, but he didn’t. “What does that mean?” he said.

  She turned in the bathroom doorway. “It means I listened to you for seventeen years. Every word. You know how many times I didn’t listen to you? Once. And I’ve been paying for it ever since. Guess what, Dad? I’m a grown-up. No matter what you think, I’m a good mother. I’m a good firefighter. And I’m going to be a good paramedic. Michael is not a criminal. He’s doing the best he can, despite people like you making it impossible. If I want to see him, I’m going to see him. And if you don’t like it, that’s just too bad for you.”

  With that, she slammed the door and turned on the faucet, glad that the sound of the shower would drown out anything else he had to say.

  The nurse had a toothbrush. Toothpaste, too. And a razor and shaving cream. She removed Michael’s IV and examined his stitches, then told him he could take a shower. Adam and Hunter said they’d wait.

  Michael turned the water as hot as he could tolerate and stood under the stream for a while.

  He still had no idea where to go. Back to Adam’s for the night? And then what?

  Guilt tweaked his thoughts. He should have warned Hannah. But what would he have said? A crazy bomber/arsonist took a picture of you and James to threaten me. Watch your back. Oh, and he might have Elemental powers.

  Sure. Maybe he’d like another night in the hospital—in the psych ward.

  No matter what Michael thought of the fire marshal, he was glad Hannah lived with a man who could provide some protection for her and James.

  Unlike you.

  He told his conscience to stick it.

  The water felt good across his shoulders, but eventually his skin began to prune. He’d need to face reality sooner or later. It might as well be sooner.

  The clothes still had tags on them, and Michael added another line to his ongoing mental list. He’d have to pay Adam back when he found his wallet. Everything felt starchy and new, and the shirt was nothing he would have bought for himself, but it all fit. Even the shoes.

  When he walked out of the bathroom, he found another visitor waiting in the chairs next to his bed.

  “Wow,” said Tyler. “That is one teal shirt.”

  “What are you doing here?” Michael threw the bag on the bed. Hunter and Adam didn’t seem fazed by Tyler’s presence, but they didn’t have the history with him that Michael and his brothers did.

  If he didn’t know better, he’d say Tyler looked hurt. “Gee, Merrick. Glad to see you made it through okay.” He stood, and Michael realized he had crutches with him. “Guess I’ll leave you alone, then.”

  “He came to check on you,” said Adam.

  “Said you were trapped under the restaurant together,” added Hunter.

  Michael sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. He’d been so caught up in the drama with his brothers that he hadn’t even thought to ask if Tyler had survived.

  Pretty shitty, especially considering that Tyler had probably kept them all from burning to a crisp.

  “Stop,” he said to Tyler. “Wait. I’m sorry.”

  Tyler turned, and one crutch squeaked against the floor. “Did you just say you’re sorry?”

  “Don’t make me take it back.” He paused and gave Tyler a clear once-over. “I’m glad you didn’t lose your leg or anything.”

  “They said I might need surgery. Screw that. I told them to give me the good pain pills and let me get the hell out of here.”

  Michael raised his eyebrows. “And they listened?”

  “Nah, but Quinn brought me a lighter. My second ultrasound looked amazing. They must have read the first one wrong. The crutches are really just for show. ” Tyler half smiled. “Maybe I should have brought you a bag of sand or something.”

  “I’m all right. Nick helped.” Michael swallowed.

  Tyler glanced at Hunter and Adam. “Yeah, they told me what happened.” He paused. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” He gave a laugh though nothing was very funny. “I don’t even know where my wallet is, much less—”

  “Here,” said Hunter. He pulled a plastic bag from beneath his chair. “The nurse brought this by. She said it was everything you had on you.”

  Michael began pulling things free. His jeans: filthy and torn. His shirt: filthy, torn, and bloody. His shoes followed the trend.

  But at the bottom of the bag was his wallet—with everything intact, from what he could tell—and his watch. He pocketed the first and slipped the second over his wrist. In the pocket of his jeans he found his keys.

  He pocketed those, too. “At least I have access to a vehicle,” he said. Maybe his day was looking up.

  Adam and Hunter exchanged glances.

  “What?” said Michael. “Jesus. I can’t handle one more thing. What?”

  Hunter winced. “The truck isn’t drivable.”

  “Define ‘isn’t drivable.’ ”

  “Like . . . you can’t drive it.”

  “Hunter!”

  “You were parked behind the bar,” said Adam. “Hannah said most vehicles took some damage, but the truck had a beam through the cab. They towed it. You can probably—”

  “Stop. God. Stop.” Michael ran his hands down his face. His truck. His truck.

  No. Not his.

  His father’s.

  He waited for this news to tighten his chest and bring tears to his eyes, but surprisingly, he felt nothing. Maybe all his emotion had been used up.

  “Have you been back to the house?” he said, his voice bleak. “What about the SUV? Is that drivable?”

  “They’re not letting anyone on the court,” said Hunter. “Well, not us anyway. We tried, but they’ve got it cordoned off, with an officer standing guard.”

  “Great.”

  “I have a truck,” said Tyler.

  “Good for you,” Michael snapped. “I’m sure you have a place to live, too.”

  “Maybe if you’d quit with the shitty attitude I could say, yeah, I do, and yeah, you can stay with me.”

  Now they were all staring at him. For the first time, Tyler looked uncomfortable. He shrugged and looked back at the door. “If you need a place. I have a spare bedroom. I’m just saying.”

  “Why would you do that?” said Michael.

  “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

  Michael didn’t buy it. “You? Altruistic? Try again.”

  “Because it’s what my sister would want me to do.”

  That, Michael bought. It had been years since Tyler’s sister had died, but Michael still had clear memories of Emily Morgan. She’d been the first Elemental in
town who treated him like a human being instead of someone who needed to be put to death.

  “Won’t it piss off your parents?” he asked Tyler.

  “You going to call and tell them?”

  “No, but I don’t want to wake up chained to the bed and set on fire, either.”

  “Look, man, whatever you want to do with your sex life is your business—”

  “I’m serious,” said Michael. Tyler and his friends had once trapped Michael in a parking lot. They’d pinned him to the ground with a truck chain and Tyler himself had put a butane lighter against Michael’s face.

  It had been years ago, but Michael hadn’t forgotten. Tyler’s sister had rescued him—but that moment had led down the path that had ended with Emily’s death.

  Tyler hadn’t forgotten either. He looked at Michael. “I can’t play both sides anymore. I’m either one of you or one of them.” His expression didn’t waver. “I don’t know who blew up the restaurant, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that he sent you to a place my parents own. A place where I’d be. Do you?”

  Michael hadn’t considered it. He’d been focused on the people he’d been told to bring: his brothers and the police. He hadn’t thought about the people who’d already been there.

  “No,” he said. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence at all.” He paused. “What if he targets your place?”

  Tyler’s expression darkened. “He already tried to get rid of me once.”

  “You afraid?”

  “Fuck that,” said Tyler. “I dare him to try. What do you say, Merrick?”

  Michael looked at him, and realized he could see something in Tyler that couldn’t be said for anyone else in his life. Tyler was an adult. He was a powerful Fire Elemental—possibly more powerful than Gabriel. He owed Michael nothing—and vice versa. Tyler wasn’t an obligation or someone who needed protection.

  Tyler was an equal.

  Michael smiled, and for the first time in forever, he felt a shadow of genuine emotion behind it. “I say bring it.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Michael sat at Tyler’s kitchen table and studied the list he’d made. He couldn’t decide if it made him feel better or worse about the state of things.