Chapter 10
"Okay, Ali, baby, I need you to just remain calm," he urged, wishing he'd gotten around to taking his recertification in negotiation. Something told him he was going to need it…
"I skipped breakfast," she panted, shaking her head. "Shouldn't have been a problem, but then the interview ran long…"
"So now you're two meals down?"
A frantic nod. "Listen to me very carefully," she told him, every word a pained gasp. "Do not make any sudden moves; do not turn your back on me. There is a sedative in the glove-box, looks like an epi pen. You need to get it and give it to me and then you need to get me back to the Sanctuary, fast. Maintain eye contact at all times. Averting your gaze is a sign of weakness, passivity, and vulnerability. I will pick up on those things and I will have no choice but to attack you. Now get the sedative!"
Joe nodded and started towards the car, slowly and cautiously. Aleka turned to watch him go and he did as directed, maintaining eye contact along the way.
His second or third week on his first solo Beat, he had come face to face with a rabid dog. The attack had left him needing forty-seven stitches on his arm and a long, painful series of rabies shots. He had been terrified then, but that experience had nothing on this one. For one thing, the look on Aleka's face said 'I want to rip you to pieces' a lot more than that dog's had.
Aleka could smell his fear, too, he was sure of that from the way her nostrils flared, the way she seemed to savor whatever she was smelling. She swayed on her feet as she watched him move, smiling in anticipation.
"You could forget the tranquilizer," she pointed out, her voice as smoothly seductive as it had been in bed the night before. "Strange as it may sound, it's a fun way to die, Joe…"
"But I don't want to die, Ali," he answered quietly, opening the car door. "Not yet."
"I could make you come to me."
"If that was what you really wanted, I would already be dead," he pointed out, reaching into the car and popping the glove compartment. "Just keep fighting. You're doing fine, Ali." Constant name-dropping, 'cause that wasn't a negotiation-tactic at all…
She nodded. "Get it quickly, Joe. I can't fight this much longer."
Not taking his eyes from hers, he fumbled blindly in the glove compartment until he found the injector by feel. He closed his hand around it and then straightened, clutching it tightly.
"I have it, Ali. Come here. Let me help you."
She gave a shaky nod and took a jerky step forward, pushing up her sleeve as she went.
"Good." Joe smiled reassuringly at her, then glanced down at the injector to see how it worked.
"Idiot!" she howled.
She slammed into him and he was knocked to the ground, barely managed to keep his hold on the injector. The Siren was on top of him with a snarl, baring teeth considerably sharper than he remembered from kissing her. He raised his arm defensively when she went for his throat and felt a sharp pain there instead. His head swam and his vision doubled, physical warmth and emotional contentment washing over him in a way vaguely reminiscent of high-dose morphine.
He wasn't sure where he found the strength, but he managed to raise the hand with the injector and jam it into her back, near the right shoulder. He heard the hiss of the drug being released and Aleka collapsed on top of him, the jaw that had been locked around his forearm going slack.
"Jesus," he breathed, struggling to catch his breath.
And to stay awake.
For a man who had just come close to getting eaten alive by a lover, he felt pretty damned good. A little euphoric and a lot turned on. Her weight on his supine body felt great; there was no denying that. He could have stayed that way forever. But, eventually, he forced himself to pull out his cell phone and find the number he needed.
"Zimmerman," Will answered his phone.
"Hey, man. Look, I've got a situation here. Ali's unconscious and I don't think she's going to be safe to be around when she wakes up. And I am, uh, way too messed up to drive. I need someone out here to get us both to the Sanctuary ASAP, because I don't think it would be good for my job to be found in this position." He giggled.
A short pause. "She's unconscious?"
"I had to sedate her, but I don't know how long that'll last. She implied it wouldn't be long."
"I'm already out the door. Stay on the line, Joe. I'm right here, but I need you to stay with me. Can you do that for me, Joe?"
"I don't know. Uh, I haven't lost much blood, but I'm still getting pretty light-headed here."
"How badly are you injured?"
"She bit my arm up is all."
"Doesn't sound too terrible. But I need you to stay awake for me, okay?"
"I'll do my best." He yawned. "Am I dying?"
"No, but coma isn't unheard of with Siren venom, so I need you to stay awake," he repeated more firmly.
"So many things make sense now, Will…" He sighed softly. "I'm sorry I ever gave you shit. You were a fantastic profiler, just insanely dedicated. You deserved better than any of us ever gave you."
"Don't start making your goodbyes yet, Joe," Will ordered. "Siren venom's psychoactive but not fatal. So just be strong and stay with me."
"I don't want to be strong. This feels good. I want to give in to it."
"No, Joe! Damn it, fight it, man!" Will snapped, sounding frantic.
"But why, Will?"
"Because it isn't real, Joe. And 'not real' is not enough. Not for men like you. So you fight it. Because that's the person you are."
"There's perverse logic in your argument, Zimmerman."
"Not perverse, Joe. Based on observation. I've seen you in action; I know how your mind works."
"Do you ever not profile?"
"No, Joe. Because, most of the time, that's the only way I can understand the people around me. I've never been social, only analytic. Ninety-nine percent of the time, profiling a person is as close as I'm ever going to come to forming a true connection with them."
"Jesus, Will, you must be so lonely…"
Lying on the ground with an unconscious monster sprawled on top of him, discussing feelings with a shrink he had thought completely nuts only a few months ago. Perfectly reasonable.
"I'll admit to sometimes feeling separate, but I am not alone, Joe. No one is, not once they embrace this world and this world embraces them. And now that includes you. So you just hang tight."
"How can you even think of being nice to me after all the shit I gave you when you still worked for the Department?"
"You didn't know; you didn't understand. You thought you were doing me a favor, warning me to back down from my fringe positions. You didn't bear me any active dislike in spite of everything. You thought I was nuts but you were still kind to me. That makes you good people in my book, Joe Kavanaugh."
There wasn't much he could say in answer to that.
"Joe! You still with me, man?"
"Tired, Will. Not really thinking straight."
"Okay, but I need you to stay awake for me. I'll be there before long, but I don't want you falling asleep in the meantime. Talk to me, Joe. Um… tell me about all the interesting shit I've missed at the Department since I left. Can you do that?"
Joe laughed. "Did you hear about Santos and Johansen?"
"No. Tell me, Joe."
Joe started talking, interrupted only by Will's occasional words of encouragement to continue. He knew full well that he was rambling, but Will wanted him to keep going so he did.
Until he heard a gentle, "Joe, open your eyes for me."
He did and found himself staring up at Will. He smiled. "Hey, man! How you doing?"
"Better than you," Will answered, kneeling next to him. A needle was produced and the psychiatrist emptied it into Aleka's arm. He felt her pulse for a moment, then rested his hand against Joe's throat, presumably doing the same. "How are you feeling?"
"Good."
"Euphoric?"
"Pretty much," he agreed, lifting his hand to cover Will's. "You're good people, too, Zimmerman."
Will shook his head. "If the next words out of your mouth are 'I love you, man' I am out of here. Understood?"
Joe laughed and nodded. "No male bonding while I'm strung out on Siren spit, check."
The psychiatrist smiled at him and flashed a light in his eyes, then rolled Aleka off him and checked her over. Then he snapped on a pair of gloves and examined Joe's arm, hastily bandaging it.
"Okay, I'm still going to need you to stay awake for me, but I'm comfortable declaring you both fit for transport. So let's get you back to the Sanctuary. Okay?"
"Will!" He caught the other man's arm. "She said she missed two meals, breakfast this morning and lunch this afternoon."
"Understood. I texted Magnus and she'll be ready with nutrients for her. There won't be any permanent damage from this," he promised. "But hopefully you'll have learned your lesson about skipping breakfast just to get a little extra play."
Joe remained on the ground laughing as Will transferred Aleka into the back seat of the car. The absurdity of the whole situation hit him all at once and all he could do was lay there giggling helplessly.
"It's not that funny," Will told him with a tolerant smile, hauling Joe to his feet and helping him into the passenger seat. "You are completely stoned, my friend."
"And it feels good!"
Will shook his head again. "Thus the appeal for druggies."
He slammed the car door and circled to the driver's side, slipping behind the wheel and glancing sideways at Joe. "You were telling me about the latest theatrics between Price and Pierce," he prompted.
"You don't give a shit about either guy," Joe protested.
"No," Will agreed. "But I do give a shit about you, so keep talking."
"You haven't gotten any less pushy since you left."
"No. If anything, I've gotten more pushy. Because, these days, I actually care about my patients. So keep talking for me, Joe."
0101010
Joe woke with a splitting headache. "Oh, good Lord," he moaned.
"The headache will pass," a low voice assured him. "But I've been authorized to give you something for pain if you'd like."
"Ali." He opened one eye cautiously. Ridiculous to be like this with her when her quick and analytic thinking had saved his ass when she went off the deep end, but there you were. Aleka Pappas was a dangerous predator and there was no use in forgetting the fact. "Are you… you again?"
"Joe I am sorrier than I can say." She shook her head, expression mortified and frankly ashamed.
"You don't eat for 18 hours and that happens to you? I'm kinda starting to see where our serial-killer is coming from."
"Having the desire is no excuse for indulging it. How's your arm?"
Joe examined his forearm. "How many stitches?"
"Eighteen. I'm sorry."
"I've had worse," he assured her.
"I noticed," she murmured, lightly stroking the old scars near his elbow. "Dog?"
"Yeah. She was rabid. Good dog, from what I heard after, not a mean bone in her body. Just wrong place, wrong time. Mixed it up with a raccoon and nothing was the same for her after that."
"What happened to her?"
"I had to put three bullets in her brain."
"Thank you for not doing that to me."
"I didn't have to. You gave me the tools and advice to do otherwise." He forced himself to sit up. "You've put a lot of thought into what happens if you get…"
"Hungry," she finished for him, nodding. "I could hardly ignore the possibility that something like this might happen one day. I've carried those tranqs around since James first started treating me."
"A fact that probably saved my life today. You okay, Ali?"
She sighed and shrugged, looking away. "A little ashamed. I should know better by now."
He reached up and caught her hand. "I'm the kind of guy who focuses on work to the point where I'll forget to eat for two or three days in a row. Which is insane given the fact that I'm borderline diabetic. It sometimes even affects my mood and behavior." He told her. "Which means I'm in no position to judge you."
"Mmm," she answered, shaking her head. "It was unforgivable of me. I don't eat regularly, I become a threat to every human being around me. At that point, there's a reasonable expectation that I make sure to have four meals a day. Your blood sugar gets low, Joe, and you yell at someone who doesn't deserve it. It happens to me and someone dies."
"Yet, today, in the grip of that nightmare, you talked me through subduing you, through keeping myself alive. Not so monstrous, Ali."
"I tasted your blood and I liked it!"
"I don't give a shit." He shook his head. "You're intelligent and kind and decent! You didn't kill me when you damned well could have. Even in the grip of something horrible, you rose above."
"It isn't that simple. I will never forget how you taste. You're prey now. It doesn't matter how much blood Helen plies me with, how many pills I take, how many protein shakes I force myself to endure. I know and I remember. You taste good, Joe, and I want more…"
"Does that mean you're verging on falling off the wagon?"
"I forgot about life on the wagon the instant your blood touched my tongue. I'll need to start over from Step One now." She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. My priority is still solving this case."
"Which we will do, Ali. Later. Tell me how they made you better today."
"You don't want to know."
"Tell me," he repeated more firmly.
Not looking at him, she quietly explained, "I had to drink what was essentially a cow-muscle milkshake, mega-dose on several dozen different vitamins, take numerous antipsychotics, and consume six units of human blood. I should go now. I need to finish constructing that profile."
"Ali…"
"No." She shook her head. "I have a job to do, Joe. Please excuse me."
Joe started to follow her but didn't even get into a full sitting position before the room started spinning so badly he thought he might hurl. Sighing, he lay back and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths and waiting for the dizziness to pass.