Chapter 9
How could this turn out so wrong? I wondered for the umpteenth time this evening as another wave of insidious cold crashed silently into my worn out body.
That was all I felt; nothing but emptiness and a cold that had nothing to do with temperature; in fact, the unfamiliar bedroom I laid in was quite warm with shared body heat. I could still feel the sheen of sweat cooling over my naked body, making the sheets cling to me in a strangely oppressive manner. It didn't make sense. I shouldn't, I couldn't be feeling this bad.
What the hell went wrong? It was a nice date. It was a nice kiss. Sex wasn't bad, either, but this just feels so completely... wrong. A strong arm was wrapped around my middle, but it did nothing to chase away the creeping knowledge that I had made a horrible, irreparable mistake.
"What's wrong?" Marshall asked when I shivered against him, his lips meeting my naked shoulder in what should have been a comforting, pleasant gesture of affection, but made me feel absolutely nothing.
Wrong, wrong, wrong...
"Nothing. I'm fine." I lied softly, hoping he'd mistake the shivers rippling over my skin for pleasure instead of the cold dread spreading through my limbs. His lips travelled towards my neck now, and soon touched my silent demon scar. Not a twinge came from it, and my heart lurched at the reminder that no pheromones were influencing me, that Marshall wasn't a vamp. Wounds I thought had already healed started aching dully. Dammit, would I ever recover from Kisten's death? Marshall wasn't Kist. He couldn't fill the hole in my heart were Kist used to be.
Or maybe... just maybe he isn't another vamp. I considered as a flash of hurt, almond shaped brown eyes bolted through my mind and was gone.
Ivy... God, she would be so pissed off when she learned about this. Worry about her reaction gnawed at me like a hungry animal, something that had happened before but never like this. If there is one thing I'm used to, it's telling myself that I can't live my life according to what can or can't hurt her, but I had apparently gone soft somewhere in the last months.
But even worse than fearing Ivy's unavoidable anger, I realised the damn vamp had at least been partly right; I had used Marshall to stave off my loneliness, although whether or not I had done so because of my supposed denial towards her or not remained to be seen. The reason why was moot; I just had to look back at the last week to see, plain as day, how I simply had.
We'd all but spent it together, Marshall and me. The church had felt so empty without Ivy in it that every reason had been a good one if it meant leaving it. That's how it started, with him inviting me to work out with him. It was nice, really; ever since Nick dumped me, I hadn't had anyone to run with. Asides from sparring, which had been pretty one-sided as well, working out with Ivy had always been out, since I couldn't keep up with her vamp speed and her stamina, so it was great to finally have someone to break up this usually lonely part of my routine. Swimming with him was harmless, innocent, fun, and a great way to exercise. He had a thing for Speedos, too, a great fringe benefit, or so I thought at the time.
Working out in the morning, lunch and friendly dates in the evening, long and lonely nights in front of the TV in my empty church; that was pretty much my routine for the week and a half Ivy had been in the hospital. She had to be absent for me to realise just how her presence filled our home; Ivy was usually as quiet as a mouse, but were there used to be comfortable silence was only an emptiness that grated on me now. I missed her, I wouldn't deny that much, and I visited her, of course, but I could only do so for the brief span of time between her awakening, near sunset, and her mother's arrival. That was my only window, since her mom usually spent most of the night, and Ivy was too tired for visits during the day.
Ivy had become sick because of the vamp virus in her becoming active when her heart stopped. Amongst other, somewhat "unpleasant" things (don't look at me, that's all she would say), the disease made her internal clock tick almost exactly the same way as a dead vampire's, meaning she slept all day instead of only half of it. Since I didn't have the gut to face her dead mom, especially after Erica probably ran her mouth about Ivy and me being together to the whole Tamwood-Randall estate, I usually left pretty quickly.
That left me with a whole lot of time to spend with Marshall, time I had, up to this evening, spent working on a completely platonic relationship. I should've known Marshall had something in mind; for starters, we had gone out at midnight, much later than we had all week, or ever for that matter; that he made time to get himself into my Inderlander schedule should have tipped me off. Then there was the "diner, show, drinks" combo he had taken me on; it was in a different league than our usual walks, TV dates and movies and other, non-romantic dates we had.
Yes, in hindsight, it was beyond me that I could have been surprised when he kissed after I walked him from my car to his doorstep. His intent should have been clear from the beginning.
Don't blame him. You responded. You thought you wanted this, my ever so helpful conscience piped in. I knew it was the truth, but dammit, it didn't make sense. Why wouldn't I want him? Marshall was nice, cute, funny... He was a witch, too. We had loads in common. He liked me, and he could make me happy. Maybe he could even have accepted my demonic heritage. I didn't even owe anything to anyone.
So why did I feel like I'd just cheated on someone for accepting this?
Quietly hating myself, I pulled away from him and out of the bed, unable to stand this anymore. His hands lingering on my shoulder slid against my back, between my shoulder blades, a spot where I usually loved being touched. By now, I wasn't expecting to feel anything but worse, and I wasn't disappointed.
"Rachel, what's going on?" Marshall asked, making me glance up from my search for my discarded underwear. He was pranced up on his elbow, his eyes fixed on me genuinely concerned. His leanly muscled body was barely covered from the waist down, a sight that should have been more than a little distracting, but that I felt too crappy to enjoy.
"Nothing, I..." Standing in the middle of the bedroom, still in my birthday suit, I hung my head, my frizzy hair creating a red curtain that hid from me the pained comprehension dawning on the other witch's face. Suck it up, I berated myself. You screwed up; you owe him a little honesty. "Marshall, I'm sorry. This was a mistake."
"A mistake? What?" I didn't answer, scrambling through the motions of slipping into my panties and jeans, still naked from the waist up, wondering where the hell my bra had landed. Anything I could do to keep my mind off the pain I was about to cause him sounded good.
"Rachel, would you please hold still for a second and tell me what's wrong?" Marshall asked, his voice equal parts annoyance and concern. I couldn't do as he asked; stopping and thinking about what I did didn't sound pleasant at all. Moving around gathering my discarded clothes sounded a lot better in comparison.
Giving up on my bra, which was pretty useless with my sad excuse for a chest anyway, I found my socks and my dark red blouse. It wasn't until I buttoned the shirt so high that I looked downright prude that I could finally scrape enough confidence to meet Marshall's eyes again.
"Did I do something wrong?" He asked, his voice honest and concerned. "Did I hurt you?"
"No..." Try as I might, I couldn't force more words out. I couldn't understand what I felt, let alone voice it.
"Is it about your old boyfriend?" Out of the mouth of just about anyone else, his words might have sounded judgemental, but Marshall was made of better stuff than that. He was really concerned about me. It was probably a big reason why I felt so crummy about using him right there. "Are you still hurting over him?"
"Yes... no. God, Marshall, I don't know. I just don't. You're a great guy. But I..." I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, bracing myself for the pain to come. Marshall was silent as we stared into each other's eyes, both of us trying to figure out what the other was thinking. He looked confused, and more than a little sad, and I guess I didn't look much better.
"Is it about Ivy?" He asked finally, his body loosing all tension and slumping onto the tousled bed. He kept his eyes fixed at the ceiling, obviously trying to avoid looking at me.
"Maybe it is," I answered softly, biting back the reflexive the denial that wanted to gush out, "but not the way you think."
He snorted in bitter laughter, an ugly sound that made me wish I wasn't on the receiving end of it.
"I'm not blind, Rachel. I know the woman hates my gut, even though she barely knows me." He turned his head to fix his eyes on me. "Only a jealous ex or a vamp would hate me like that. She's in love with you, isn't she?"
"Yes." I admitted with some difficulty. "Yes, she is."
"What about you?"
"I'm... it's complicat-"
"Dammit, Rachel," he all but shouted, making me jump, "if you're going to run away right after we made love, I think I deserve to know why, at least!"
"I don't know what the hell I feel, okay?!" I snapped back, my temper getting the bett of me. Maybe I was in the wrong, but when someone pushes me, I push back. "You try doubting your sexual preferences, see if you like it! I told you, I'm sorry, okay?!" Breath in, one two, breathe out, one, two, three. "I really am, Marshall." I said in a calmer tone. Honest. My voice barely shook. "I meant it when I said you're a nice guy. This would never have happened if Ivy hadn't been hurt. I used you to fill the void she left, and I'll say it again, I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is." One deep breath. Come on, this has to be said. "I'm not in love with you. I thought I might be because I didn't feel as bad with you around, but I see it know, I'm not. You're a great friend, but that's it."
Can't we just be friends... now where have I heard that one before? Gazing into Marshall's face, I had a sinking feeling that this wouldn't be enough anymore. I felt on a losing streak, friendship-wise; first Ivy, now him. Thank goodness I hadn't done anything to piss Jenks off again. I don't think I could've handled it if he was pissed at me, too.
"Do you want me to call you tomorrow?" I asked mildly, still clinging to one tiny shred of hope that I could patch this up. Marshall actually had to think about it, which hurt more than I cared to admit. Even if I didn't share his feelings, he was still a friend. I didn't have many to spare
"I'll call you. Maybe." He answered in a carefully neutral voice. "I have to think about this, Rachel."
I swallowed softly before I turned and exited his bedroom, muttering a vague "fair enough" over my shoulder as I did, and quietly shut the door behind me. I gathered my coat and slipped into my boots, the scent of leather reminding me again of my two favourite vampires. I doubt it was anatomically possible for my heart to be as high in my throat as it felt, but hey, go tell it that. With the way things were going lately, it would likely take up permanent residence up there.
I fished my keys out of my bag and slipped into the cold interior of my convertible, taking a moment to bang my head against the steering wheel, glare at a staring passerby, and bang my head against the poor wheel again. How could I have been so dumb? Hadn't I taken a vow to make smart decisions somewhere back?
Well, that does it. As soon as Ivy comes home, we're both sitting down and figuring this out once and for all. It was one thing to frustrate and confuse myself, it was another entirely to hurt people I cared about. As scary as it was, there were just too many hints that I cared more about her than I let myself see.
I had just put the key in the ignition when my cell rang.
"Yeah?" I barked sullenly on the third ring, after I frantically searched my purse and scattered most of its content.
"Rachel?" A deep male voice answered
"Oh, hey Glenn. What's up?" I amended, pushing my angst and frustrations to the back of my thoughts.
"Rachel, listen to me." Glenn commanded, his business-like tone sending me directly into runner mode. "I don't know how much time to speak to you."
"What's going o..." I begun, but he promptly cut me off.
"I said, listen! They're watching me pretty closely."
"Glenn, I have no idea what you're talking about. Who's watching you?"
"I.A. They're investigating me. Hell, we're both under FIB investigation, and I was forbidden to talk to you about it, but they're wrong not to warn you."
"What the hell could FIB internal affair have against you? Christ, Glenn, you could be the FIB poster boy! And what the hell did I do this time?" I asked, outraged. I hadn't done anything wrong... recently, at least. Not that I remembered...
A frustrated grunt/sigh came from the other side, then a tense silence, like he'd covered up or hid the receptor. Whatever was happening, wherever he was, he was in trouble.
Cool off, Rachel, I thought. "Okay, Glenn, listen to me. Start at the beginning. Why are you being investigated?"
He took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, sounded a little more collected. "The evidence from the case against the brimstone dealer is gone. The gun, the bullets, they're gone. I.A. believes it was an inside job."
"And they suspect you? You're the straightest cop I've ever seen! Why would they..." I thought about it for a second. "Because you gave me back my splat gun... you broke the chain of evidence when you gave it back to me, didn't you?"
Glenn grunted in acknowledgement.
"You must have known you could get in trouble. Why did you do it, Glenn?"
"Something didn't add up with yours and Tamwood's statements. There wasn't anyone else at the scene, no third guy, not even evidence of there ever being anyone else. Worse, she claims she only took out the one guy, the buyer. If there was someone there, they knew what they were doing." He paused. "Rachel, this might have been a trap. I don't know if it was meant for you or not, but you crossed some powerful people. I thought this case would be in the bag anyway, so I had your gun released. I didn't want you unarmed. "
"Wait, just when did you talk to Ivy? The gun was already there when I got... home... Crap, while I was asleep? You didn't think you could wake me up, tell me about it?" And Ivy hadn't told me either! Then again, we both had other things on our mind by then...
"She said you needed the sleep. Heck, even in a hospital bed, I wouldn't mess with her."
Well, at least he'd learned his lesson. The first time the two met, Ivy almost bit him and he pulled a gun on her. Memories, memories; life was so simple back then, wasn't it?
"Okay, so that's you. What did I do?"
"I told you, your two statements don't match. It's both of you. Some idiot higher up thinks that makes you two suspicious. It doesn't matter that I know you aren't involved, no matter how loud I shout, they don't hear me. This is over my or captain Edden's head; we can't make this go away. They'll have to come up empty on their own."
I rubbed my temples, trying to stave the pounding headache I felt coming along. "Okay, so someone got ahold of everything they could tie to our mystery shooter. What about that other guy I arrested for you?"
"He's still in holding, but he's no use to us. He got hit with a spell, I think. The last thing he remembers is being stood up by his prom date. No idea how it happened either."
"A memory charm..." Damn, not just any memory charm, either, if it could hit someone that hard. That meant clout, either financially or magically.
"Who was he tied to, Glenn? Who was his boss?" I asked quietly, already suspecting the answer. Tons of cash, friends everywhere, always there to make my life hell, more slippery than a frog in a rainstorm, it could only be our friendly neighbourhood elf councilman, Trent Kalamack. And if he was the one responsible for getting Ivy hurt, then the gloves were off. I'd land his ass in jail quicker than he could say spit, no matter what it took.
"Don't." Glenn warned.
"You know this reeks of him, Glenn." Neither of us needed to name Trent to know what I was thinking. "I know it's him. We've been grabbing his small fishes for two months now, and he finally decided to off me. Oh, I'll get him this time."
"Rachel, I know you're upset about Ivy, but kicking down Kalamack's door won't get her back, it'll only land your butt in lockup. Think. What happened when you arrested the dealer was brutal, but ultimately sloppy. Not Kalamack's usual speed at all. For all you know, this was the west coast cartel trying to muscle its way around here again, and you two just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."
I hmm-ed noncommittally, unconvinced, but kept listening.
"Whoever took the evidence and spelled our guy in custody," Glenn went on, "his work was as perfect as that other job last year with Kalamack's prints. I'm sure it was the same man. I don't think Kalamack did it to help the other guys as much as gain some blackmail material on them. It's obvious that the two events are linked, but I doubt they were pulled off by the same people."
My mouth worked wordlessly as I tried to undo his logic, and swore inwardly when I realised he was right -kinda. Much as I hated to admit it, if Trent wanted to kill me, it would definitely be clean and relatively painless. No mess for the big man, no sir. I was almost disappointed to check him off the list of suspects –a part of me had wished he would give me a reason. In the years since I'd left the IS, I'd met most of the worst of this city's underbelly, and none caused more moral dilemmas than Trent. Some days, I thought the good he did would never outweigh the bad, others I wasn't sure if he wasn't simply misguided. I wish I could firmly file him under "bad guy" in my brain, but I couldn't anymore without making myself a freaking hypocrite. Just were has my moral compass gone, I have no idea. It took a hike around the same time as my sexual certainties.
I shoved those thoughts away fast, glad that Glenn couldn't see me blush. Now wasn't the time to think about this. I knew Trent knew Lee Saladan, the west coast representative in Cinci, that they were childhood friends. The guy was one sick puppy if I ever saw one. Maybe Trent planned to blackmail him, or maybe it was just a misguided attempt to help him. Like I said, Trent could be both ruthless and not.
"Fine, I'll give councilman Kalamack the benefit of the doubt," I spat his title like an insult. He might not have tried to kill me this time, but he was still a corrupt official, and I could hate him for that, if nothing else. So I didn't have an excuse to finally tag him. So what? I wanted Saladan in jail pretty bad, too. A slow burning of anger started building in me. Stanley "Lee" Saladan... yes, he could have done it, definitely. I suppose saving his sorry ass from a demon didn't buy me much gratitude from the prick. So, maybe I had sold him to said demon to save myself. He almost did the exact same thing to me. Fair is fair. Perhaps it was time we had a friendly chat.
"I hear a "but" here, Rachel. If you know who might be behind that trap, tell me."
"This is personal, Glenn. No offense, but his ass is grass." I savagely twisted the key in the ignition, bringing the car's engine to life with a satisfying roar. I twisted the knob on the heater more out of habit than any real need. My anger was more than enough to keep me warm. I almost disconnected the call right there, but Glenn's shouting voice stopped my thumb just short of the "off" button.
"Listen to me, goddammit! You're already knee deep in trouble, you don't need to make it worse!"
I paused, my thumb still hovering over the button as I debated just ignoring him or not, then brought the phone back to my ear.
"Thirty seconds." I said coldly.
"Don't give me that. Rachel, I know you're angry, but don't be stupid. Give me a name if you have one. I promise I'll get you a warrant. The west coast cartel makes Kalamack look like a complete pussycat. Remember that wave of brimstone-related deaths two years ago? That was all them, even though there was no gain to it at all. These guys are plain vanilla evil."
If it wasn't for the stellar evening I was having, I could have laughed in the irony of it. "Yeah, I know. I almost landed their leader in jail on insurance fraud. A real choir boy." And boy, would he hear choirs once I was through with him.
"Then you know you don't want to mess with these guys without the law on your side. I want a name, Rachel, now." He demanded. "Once I have something solid on him, you can beat him down and drag him downtown to your heart's content."
I hesitated for a moment. If I chose to cooperate with the police, I couldn't settle this just any way; I'd have to wait for him to come up with something incriminating enough to get a warrant. Even after so many brushes with death, my first impulse was to tell Glenn to shove it and charge headfirst into the bad guy's lair. The more I thought about it, the more Saladan made sense, the more convinced I was that he was responsible for hurting Ivy and the angrier I got. I was ready to head down there in all my righteous anger and play judge, jury and executioner. But I didn't listen to my first impulses, not anymore. Saladan was dangerous. Like, "Ivy bad hair day" dangerous. And vicious enough to make a rabid were look positively cuddly in comparison. And did I mention he was powerful? Sure, I was a much more powerful witch now than I was the last time I'd faced him, but it was entirely possible he could still make me eat my teeth. I could get killed if I went after him unprepared, and I couldn't pretend it was all about me anymore; many people would be hurt if I was. My mom, Jenks, Ceri, Keasley...
And Ivy... It was really thinking about her that pushed me to do the right thing. I couldn't leave her alone, not after she'd fought so hard to stay with me. I'd already caused her so much pain, and I likely would again soon, but I couldn't, I wouldn't add grief over burying me to the list.
"You didn't hear this from me, but if you look up Stanley Saladan, you might find some interesting things." I surrendered finally. "You make damn sure you get him, understood?"
"Thank you." Glenn sighed, relieved. "If he did it, we'll get him, Rachel. You have my word." His voice lowered in pitch, and he whispered, "Damn, gotta go. Keep your nose clean, all right?"
"Yeah, okay..." I muttered vaguely and ended the call. Lee. I guess we would settle our scores soon. I knew Glenn was a good cop. He'd find Lee, whom I realised just then realised I had no idea where to find.
Great going, I thought, there you are, all ready to storm the castle, but you have no clue where the castle is.
Depressed, I took a tally of the evening, counting off crappy things off of my fingers. So I managed to get a friend angry at me by sleeping with him, which will probably get another friend mad in the near future, oh and on a sidebar, I have another death threat looming over my head. Even for me, this was a pretty productive night, trouble-wise. Nice to see these good resolutions I'd taken had not dulled my unmistakable touch.
I drove around a while, heading back to my empty church holding roughly the same appeal as sticking a finger in my eye. I knew what I really felt like doing. An urge to go see Ivy possessed me, almost badly enough to risk getting acquainted with her mom –I mean, surely it would be gross for her to bite her daughter's girlfriend, right? The worse she could do was probably pull an aura and be a disapproving mom... with long teeth... and enough strength to bench-press a bus.
Gulp.
But honestly, since I was probably covered in Marshall's scent, seeing Ivy was out. She would immediately figure what had happened between us, and call me a coward if you want, but I wanted to put that off as long as I could.
Yeah, facing the evil-murderous-stunted-demon-overlord, without any kind of preparation, weapon or plan –not even a little scary. Facing my roommate and telling her I had sex with someone who wasn't standing in her shoes –very scary. Hey, I never said I was consistent.
But more than everything else, I was afraid she would get out off the hospital before she was ready and start tearing up the city's underworld searching for Lee. Knowing her, she would, without a second's hesitation, and in the shape she was in, she might end up biting the big one. So the church it was.
The Hollows were lively on my way back, the night still fairly young for the partying crowd, and worse, the sky was clear and alight with the huge round orb of the full moon. Several times I had to swerve to avoid moonlighting Weres. I don't have anything against Weres on most days, but the full moon seemed to bring out the racist in me, turning polite "get off the road" into a shouted "get the hell off the road, you fucking mutt!" accompanied by lots of honking. At least I was driving, and not Erica...
I managed to get to the church without killing anyone, or myself, my mind still buzzing with leftover anger and confusion. I guess it took Lee that long to consolidate his power here, that probably explained why he hadn't made an attempt on my life sooner. Ungrateful son of a bitch. I helped rescue him, and this was how he repaid me? At least Trent had the decency to leave me alone after I'd saved him... okay, yeah, he tried to kill me too, but he didn't carefully lay a trap for me, he just throttled me and banged my head against a headstone, which, despite its name, was not meant for this particular purpose. Still, his was a passionate act, not a premeditated one. Lee had wanted me dead in a degrading, humiliating and painful way. Nailing him in turn would be sooooo good.
I was halfway up the stone steps when I remembered I'd had the doors barred behind me by Jenks' kids. Annoyed at my own paranoia, I strode down the frozen steps, too lost in my thoughts of vengeance to really notice the car parked right in front of our porch. I pushed the garden door into the snow-covered garden and made my way to our seldom-used backdoor. I entered the kitchen quietly, realising once I was in that habit had me almost sneak in, just like I used to after a night with Kisten. Repressed guilt at its finest...
No, don't think about that. Think angry thoughts, and cross that bridge when you get there, I thought a second before I heard voices coming from the sanctuary. Two things hit me in rapid succession from there.
One was that Ivy was back home.
The other was that Skimmer, her semi-psychotic ex-girlfriend had somehow gotten herself out of jail.
Swell. Some days, it just doesn't pay to get out of bed, does it?
A.N. : That took me forever, and I'm sorry. I'll have more time to devote to writing in the next few months, so updates should no longer be so few and far between