“I’ve got time,” I said. “Maybe you should get some sleep.”
“Yeah,” he said, “you’re right. You’re probably right.” He walked carefully around the blood and got halfway to his bedroom door before he stopped and came back into the living room. “I’m going to have to burn some memories before I sleep in there again.” He folded down on the couch, facing the back of it.
The blanket he’d used on me was folded on a chair in the corner of the room. I picked it up and placed it over Terric, who, as far as I could tell, had already escaped into unconsciousness.
I did not sleep. Spent too much time thinking about relationships and love and how nobody got out of either unscathed.
After a couple hours, I got up, checked to make sure he was still asleep, then went outside, locking the door behind me. I checked to see if my phone was in my car. It was. I dialed Sunny.
She picked up on the first ring.
“This is Sunny.”
“I need a Hound and a favor.”
She sighed. “I’ve had zero sleep in the last two days.”
“I know,” I said. “How are the leads on the syringe working out?” She had been looking into finding Davy just as much as Clyde and the Authority. Maybe more.
“Nothing solid,” she said. “What favor?”
“I want a Hound to find Jeremy Wilson and tell me where he is right now.”
“That’s a job, not a favor.”
“I’ll pay. The favor is I don’t want anyone knowing I sent them to do this. I want the Hound to contact you, and I want you to tell me when they find him.”
“Who’s Jeremy Wilson to you, Shame?”
“He hurt Terric.”
Out of all the people I knew, Sunny understood running against the rules, running on instinct, and doing everything possible to keep someone you loved safe. She was a Blood magic user. There was no getting out of that discipline without dealing with the darker side of the world.
“We’ll forget we ever talked about this, I assume?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“And you’ll make finding Davy a top priority. Pay me a favor when I want it?”
“Deal.”
“I’ll call you back.” She hung up.
I lit a cigarette and waited. It was cold out, but the sky had cleared, letting stars pierce holes in the heaven.
Took fifteen minutes, flat. Yes, the Hounds are that good.
The phone rang. “Shame.”
“He’s at a bar down on Third Street. You owe me.”
“I owe you.” I hung up.
Didn’t take me long to drive down there. I found his Jeep and parked nearby, waiting for the bar to close. Got out of the car and smoked a cigarette, pacing the shadows of the building by his Jeep. Eleanor was with me. She hadn’t tried to talk me out of this.
I wasn’t going to let her.
Jeremy walked out of the bar. Maybe drunk, maybe not. Didn’t matter. He strode across the street toward his car.
Didn’t see me in the shadows.
When he reached the sidewalk, I sent magic to snake out, dark, silent. It wrapped around his heart, shot up his spine to his brain, paralyzing. His fear washed through me.
Good.
I pushed him into the shadows, forcing his feet to move to my command.
And then I released the hold on the hunger inside me. It consumed. Tore apart his body, snapped his bones, boiled his blood, and burned flesh with fire darker than shadows.
A second passed. Two.
No time to scream. No time to beg.
I drank until there was nothing but ashes falling to the ground.
I drank until his ghost hovered in front of me, frightened, confused.
I threw my cigarette into his ashes and crushed it under my boot. Stared straight into his dead eyes. “Welcome to hell.”
He opened his mouth to scream, but I couldn’t hear him as he faded away.
With a flick of my fingers, even his ashes were gone.
Problem solved.
Chapter 34
I went back to the inn. Found myself sitting at my desk, staring at Eleanor’s angel statue.
There was one more death I needed to deal with.
Just before dawn I texted Terric and Zay. Told them I was going out of town to clear my head for a day or two. Mountains or coast, I hadn’t decided yet. And if they needed to reach me, I’d have my phone on.
Then I stuffed the phone in my sock drawer, made sure the clerk would look after the ferret, and picked up Eleanor’s statue since she made several gestures that she wanted me to do so.
I left.
Headed to Seattle. Lost myself to the drive and my thoughts.
Stopped for coffee once and bought a red rose from a roadside vender. Took me some time to get where I wanted to be. Finally found what I was looking for.
A graveyard where Thomas had a plot. Where Dessa had a headstone since there wasn’t anything left of her to be buried.
I had still been in the hospital, sitting in Terric’s room waiting for him to prove he was going to live through another day, when they’d done this.
She’d told me she had family. But the Hounds who had spied on the burial said only a minister had been there.
It make me think that was why her brother’s death hit her so hard. He was all the real family she had had.
I rolled slowly through the graveyard, parked, and got out of the car. Wandered to the southwest corner. I had forgotten to bring the files with me, but I had a decent memory of the layout.
Eleanor always seemed a little wary in graveyards, though I never understood what she feared. Because, seriously, she was a ghost.
I finally found the grave. A headstone was already placed and simply read DESSA OLIVIA LEEDS, along with the dates of her birth and death.
Eleanor touched my hand, where I held the statue of death with angel wings. Then she pointed at the grave.
“Are you sure?” I whispered.
She touched my heart and nodded. So I placed the statue there, Death’s weary head lowered, the scythe useless in his hands, as his wings stretched out for a sky he would never know.
Eleanor stood beside me, her arm cold around my waist.
I didn’t know how long I stood there and stared. Maybe an hour. Maybe more. It rained, stopped, and rained again.
Eventually I became aware of a heartbeat that wasn’t mine. Blinked and looked around. Terric stood just a short ways off. Noticed me trying to decide if he was a mirage or not. Came walking over.
Bastard had followed me up to Seattle. I wondered how many Hounds he’d had tracking me. Probably dozens. I hadn’t been very observant lately.
But at least he didn’t say anything, just came closer until he was beside me, looking down at her grave with me.
Everything around me was dead. The grass over her grave, the trees and bushes.
I remembered the rose in my hand, the only flower I’d ever bought for her. I knelt, but once my knees sank into that cold, wet, dead grass, my hands started shaking. I suddenly realized it was pouring rain, merciless. And very, very cold.
I placed the rose where I thought her heart might be. But the flower had been in my care for too long. It was withered. Dead.
Just like everything I touched.
I wiped rain off my face. “I can’t even keep a flower alive,” I said. “Everything dies. Anyone I . . . care for is going to die. I’ll make them die.”
“I’m still alive,” he said.
“Not forever. Not for long,” I said.
“Maybe.”
That admission, that it was a very real possibility for me to kill everything I laid a finger on, for me to kill him, did more for me than any attempt at comfort.
“You can still make choices,” he said. “Choose to be a man.”
“No,” I said, the memories of drawing on Death magic, the memories of surrendering to its vengeful need filling me with a shudder of pleasure. I wanted that. The pleasure. The oblivion. “I don’t think so. Not anymore.”