Hal found himself counting the rings as he pressed the receiver closer to his ear. He reached the fifteenth ring, and there was still no answer. But he couldn't give up. Because without Rook, Hal had Larry's body to get rid of by himself.
He couldn't believe he was ready to admit that he needed the help of someone who had once stolen his friend's body. But he was desperate. Rook's department was trained in keeping this sort of thing under wraps. They were the experts. Sure, Hal had more than some experience in covering up murders, but this was back in the day. Now they had modern technology that could easily zero in on who the perpetrator was just by making use of some DNA.
Five more rings passed before Hal realized it was time to call it quits. That there would be no cavalry coming to save the situation.
Meanwhile, inside a clean and well-lit room, a phone's ringtone echoed. And next to the phone was Rook, lying face-down on the table, with a bullet lodged in his head.
When the receiver was back in its cradle, Hal went from behind the bar to where Larry was lying on the floor. Hal quickly disentangled the lamp's cord and took a step back to asses the damage. There was no blood anywhere from what he could tell. The werewolf had died from simple strangulation and that thankfully limited the evidence left behind. Things could be resolved, if he had enough time, and Hal thanked his lucky stars that Alex wouldn't be able to just rent-a-ghost back to the house with Tom.
He went into the cellar, looking for a shovel. It had been quite some time since he had to bury a body, but he still remembered how to do it. And he could do it pretty fast. You didn't live to be over five centuries old without being resolute and strong. But the cellar offered nothing but dust bunnies and pieces of a tangled rope. Hal rubbed his forehead in frustration and rushed back up the stairs. He couldn't believe there were dozens of worthless knick knacks in Honolulu Heights but not a single shovel. With time pressing heavily on him, Hal had to make due with the lid of a pot he found in the kitchen.
The back garden wasn't spacious enough for a proper grave, but he did his best to dig as deeply as he could. With Tom's wolf sense of smell, Hal knew he had to put as much earth as possible between the surface and Larry.
An idle thought popped into Hal's mind a few seconds after he started digging. He wondered how Tom would take the news of his former mentor not being alive anymore because of him. Would he be angry? Disappointed? Maybe even a bit glad? Hal hoped he'd never have to see his reaction.
Once the grave was done, Hal ran back inside the house and began dragging the body towards the back yard. Larry was heavy, and Hal realized that he was quickly losing his breath. A memory conjured in his mind, where Cutler had been the one to do the digging and dragging of bodies for him. But now that seemed like centuries ago.
A few minutes later, and Hal had already started throwing dirt back in the freshly made grave. Larry's face was still stuck, contorted into a sort of smirk. Hal felt as if he was mocking him, even in his death.
Hal's fingers were still twitching every so often, even hours after Tom and Alex had returned. Luckily, the two hadn't considered it out of the ordinary as they went about their day. And now that it was well into the night, Hal struggled to clear his head and try to get some sleep.
Even though he was still very much aware of the body buried in their back yard, Hal's mind was elsewhere. He felt as if the presence of the blood flask had grown stronger. Now it was much easier to rationalize slipping down that slope. He'd already killed and buried someone who was technically innocent, so would a few drops of blood really cause that much trouble? It would be so easy, too. The flask was in a drawer only a few inches from him, patiently waiting.
Hal spent the rest of the night arranging dominoes around the bedroom.
During the following week, he struggled to keep to his routines and attempt to forget what had transpired mere days before. Hal was ready to fall back into normality when he caught Alex reading the paper one morning.
"Christ, look at this" she said, her eyes glued to the article. "Two new people found eviscerated in the local park. That's like six in the span of three days."
Hal grabbed the paper to take a closer look. "This must have been from a vampire attack. Look how their throats have been ripped out."
"Don't suppose you'd know if any of your fangy friends were in town?"
Hal shook his head. "What I don't understand is why it's in the paper. Rook's supposed to take of things like this. Keep it under wraps."
Alex shrugged. "Don't suppose he's busy?"
"His entire life seems to be built around keeping these kinds of things quiet. Something must have happened."
"Well then let's go take a look" Alex said, rising from the table.
Hal frowned. "What, you're coming?"
"Umm yeh. It's either this, or stay here and watch reruns of the Antiques Roadshow the rest of the morning, and you know that's not a bit of fun without you and Tom here."
"Alex, despite your invisibility you are still very much a presence anywhere you go."
"What, you're saying I'm loud now?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
Hal began to notice a very angry nerve appearing on her temple.
Despite Hal's opposition, Alex had decided that there was no point in walking all the way to the Archives when she could just rent-a-ghost the both of them there. The vampire struggled to keep his composure as he fought back nausea.
"You alright there, champ?" Alex asked, amused.
"I don't very much appreciate being blinked out of existence, even if it's for a fraction of a second."
Alex held her hands up. "Well if you'd rather walk all the way to bloody nowhere, and then try and get back in time for your shift at the hotel, then go right ahead."
He tried ignoring her as he walked over to the door. Hal tried pushing it open, but it failed to budge. "That's odd. It's locked."
"Bet you're happy now that I tagged along, eh?"
"Happy isn't the word I'd use."
Alex made a face before rent-a-ghosting on the other side to open the door.
The building was deserted. Or at least it seemed as much. Alex and Hal listened to the echoes of their own footsteps bounce from wall to wall as they went deeper into the archives. It looked like the Men in Gray were all gone, attending to something of great significance.
The headstone was engraved so simply that it almost perfectly emulated Rook's mannerisms. Clean cut. Precise. She could almost hear his motto echoing in the back of her head just by looking at it.
No care. All responsibility. Natasha's face remained almost unmoving as a single tear slid down her cheek.