Chapter 19:
Chuck was no stranger to anger, frustration, hate, rage, or any combination of those emotions; but feeling them all times ten while seeing red was a new sensation completely and being removed from Mort's presence seemed to do little to quell any of it. He could still taste his blood, still smell his scent, and was experiencing an unquenched thirst that wrangled several animalistic growls from deep within his chest. He was dimly aware somewhere in the back of his brain that they had returned home, that the threat to his Mate had been removed; the only thing that helped to ground him once more was the sight of her sitting on the kitchen floor with her back to the fridge, her knees drawn up to her chest, long azure hair curtaining her face.
Hitchcock was cawing in alarm, Chuck's inhuman growls alerting him to a danger that he could not see but could sense as he flapped his wings anxiously; milky eyes wide in the semi-darkness.
Instinctually, Blue knew that there wasn't much she could do to bring her Mate back to himself once an angered frenzy of this type began, but she also knew that she had to try.
She gathered herself up as much as she could and rose from her place on the floor, moving towards him in the dark; pressing her thumbnail into the flesh just below her collarbone until she drew blood.
The scent of it spiked the air and his head whipped around at once, glowering red eyes meeting her gaze and slowly levelling until they were inches apart. Chuck closed the distance between them and was in her arms almost before she had registered that he had moved at all, but to her surprise he had not sunk his fangs into her; but was busily inhaling her scent and peppering her neck with kisses.
He laved his tongue over the cut she had made, healing it with his venom-laced saliva and pressed his forehead into her chest; breathing her in slowly until his eyes returned to their natural steely blue hue and he could think clearly again. Several minutes passed this way before he spoke.
"Blue… are you okay?" He muttered, finally lifting his head to meet her eyes once more.
"I'm fine," She replied, running her fingers through his hair as Hitchcock finally quieted in his cage at the sound of her voice; his feathered head weaving this way and that as he listened.
"What the fuck happened to Mort?" He asked, voicing the question that had been swirling in her head as well.
"You have to know that that wasn't him, right?" Blue asked as he realized belatedly that he was in her lap, though he felt too comfortable and boneless there to move.
The berserker rage seemed to have taken a lot out of him after all as he felt the familiar thirst settle upon him again. Blue nudged him out of her embrace knowingly and went to the fridge to retrieve blood for them both.
"You were saying something about contacting Victor before I tore Mort a new asshole?" Chuck prompted.
Blue nodded as she opened Hitchcock's cage and stroked his feathers to calm him before removing his food dish and filling it with some fruit and veggie slices from the fridge and returning it to him where he began to tuck in happily, ignoring his hosts for the time being.
"He'll be in Europe right now with the other members of his Coven, but I can recall him if need be." She replied with a sigh.
"Recall him? What, like a soldier or operative or something?" Chuck asked curiously.
"Not exactly….. more like a member of council. Each Coven has their own council, and all of the Coven councils convene when a serious breach of Coven law has occurred; this gathering is overseen by the Leaders of each council, They're known as The Brethren. This situation that Imelda has created would be deemed serious enough; Mort is still considered Human despite his special circumstances, not to mention the fact that she could have exposed her kind to George and Annie," Blue explained, and his heart gave an involuntary squeeze when he saw how exhausted she looked.
"We should get you into bed after you drink that," He intimated as she sipped the nourishing blood and he practically inhaled his own.
Blue messaged Victor a condensed version of the current problem they faced, promising to keep an eye on Imelda as best as she could while awaiting her death day, as well as trying to watch over Mort.
Blue's phone began ringing immediately and she fought the urge to groan softly; all she wanted to do was curl up and sleep.
She answered, putting the phone on speaker.
"My Mate is here with me and he'll need to be kept abreast of everything that's going on because I'm sure this isn't going to be resolved before I die," said Blue without preamble, causing Chuck to flinch at the thought that he was going to lose her; even temporarily.
"Yes your Grace, I thought as much. Good evening Charles," Victor greeted, sounding much more congenial than when they had spoken last on the evening of the concert catastrophe.
Chuck paused with a frown upon realizing that Victor had just addressed Blue as 'Your Grace'. The title was not a facetious one apparently either….
"Good evening," Chuck replied, looking between Blue and the phone with a question in his eyes.
"I'll explain, I just hope that it doesn't change the way you think about me." Blue thought across their link quickly.
"It's more than obvious that Imelda will have to be apprehended carefully because of the nature of the control she appears to be exuding over Mr. Beecher; even with his special circumstances, irreparable damage could be done. Both physically and mentally," Victor said gravely, but Chuck scoffed and rolled his eyes.
He could give a shit less about Mort right now.
"Just get her the hell off the streets! He's the one that took a chance with this crazy broad, if his brains get scrambled over this shit, then whose fault is it? I don't want her coming after Akishla when she's vulnerable, because lemme tell you, if she does try anything I'll fuck her up good at the very least; probably dust her ass if I get a chance to. Nobody threatens my girl without consequences, I could give two fucks less about Mort," Chuck intervened, Blue's eyes widening at his words and the feeling behind them; which translated to warmth and a fierce protectiveness through their bond.
If Chuck was surprised at Victor's earlier civility towards him, then it was nothing compared to his reply.
"Yes, I quite agree with you of course. The two of you are the main focus of The Brethren right now, and always will be. I am merely stating that we will take caution with Mr. Beecher due to his importance to Lady Akishla," Victor demurred, causing Chuck to frown curiously, looking to Blue once more questioningly.
"Let me know when the guards arrive at Mort's house, I've already taken care of getting George and Annie out of there. It just makes me sick that Imelda is probably feeding from Mort as we speak and there's nothing we can do about it yet until we find the Talisman and destroy it properly." Blue sighed, her eyes alight with a mixture of frustration and worry.
"They are already in place as we speak; the Rhiannon Coven were the closest as you know, with their territory being in Chicago." Victor assured her, which seemed to lay some of her anxiety to rest as her shoulders sagged in relief.
"Good. I need to get some rest, but I want to be kept informed of any significant changes as soon as they occur." Blue said, a tone in her voice that brooked no argument.
"Of course Your Grace," He replied, hanging up and leaving Chuck with a million questions.
"Okay, lemme explain-
"No, get to bed. You look dead on your feet babe; it can wait until morning." He assured her, shaking his head.
Blue sighed in annoyance then.
"I'm fine! I'm just tired and-
Chuck moved forward with lightening speed and kissed her to quiet her.
"It's okay," He murmured, resting his forehead against hers in a moment of tenderness that made her heart melt; the feeling radiating through their link.
"I love you too," He replied, brushing her hair from her face, and nodded to her pile of pillows.
Blue smiled softly as he carefully undressed her, placing soft kisses and nips onto her newly revealed skin as her blouse, skirt, and underthings were removed piece by piece with an almost reverence in his movements.
When she was completely nude, Chuck removed his clothes and lay beside her in his boxer briefs, sighing peacefully when she spooned against him; pulling him close as was their usual sleep position.
It seemed like mere moments later that a panicked knocking could be heard at the front door, causing her to bolt upright and squint at her phone in confusion.
It was just passed ten in the morning.
"Somebody has a fuckin death wish," Chuck groaned beside her.
"Agreed," She intoned, pulling on a robe hastily as she made her way to the stairs beyond their room.
"Stay here, okay?" She called over her shoulder, but Chuck was already poised at the top of the steps behind her with a knife in hand.
"Nice Zero to Chuck Norris there babe," She said dryly, making him smirk.
Blue pulled open the door to reveal a very harassed-looking Carlos.
"Hola Senora Rainieri, Senor Ray." He greeted, looking passed her shoulder to Chuck.
"Oh hey, what is it?" Chuck asked, clicking the blade shut and pocketing it in the pair of sweatpants that he had hastily yanked on.
Carlos looked to Blue and began speaking rapid-fire Spanish, looking between the two of them with trepidation as he explained whatever the hell had happened to a wide-eyed Blue.
When he had finished, she began speaking to him calmly in Spanish in a reassuring way until he nodded towards Chuck as well, explaining something else in a half-panicked way; but Blue shook her head and said something else in exasperation before waving him off in a pacifying manner.
Carlos sighed, shook his head, and looked at Blue as though he were awaiting further instruction, which she gave; her Spanish so rapid that Chuck would have sworn it was her native language if he hadn't known better.
Seemingly satisfied, Carlos nodded, giving Chuck a respectful wave before heading back to his car and pulling off.
"What the hell was all that about?" He asked curiously when he saw the look on her face as she shut the door and carded her hands through her hair.
Blue was silent for a moment, staring out the window; but Chuck could sense powerful pangs of both worry and anger coming through their bond in waves.
"What happened Babe?" He asked, concerned.
"Mort. He's fucking AWOL! Carlos and his guys are freaking the fuck out about it because apparently the office phone is ringing off the hook and there's a family waiting there to pick up the cremains of a relative and I don't even know who it is they're picking up or how much Mort has or has not been doing; I mean, the body may or may not have been fucking cremated! Not to mention that we had the police here last night because they caught some kids hopping the wall like they do around every fucking Halloween and they spray painted a headstone," She said curtly, rushing passed him to change.
"Fuck," Chuck surmised, following her back to their room.
"Can you call Victor on my phone please? He's in my contacts," She asked, unceremoniously throwing open her closet and skimming all the way to the back to find some business attire.
"Sure," He said, watching as she plucked down a silver garment bag and ripped off her robe, tossing it away.
Victor answered on the second ring and Chuck swore he caught Blue's eyes flashing red.
"Where's Mort? Where are the guards who are supposed to be tailing him?" She demanded impatiently, as she dressed in record timing.
"They're following him as we speak; he's loaded a coffin into the back of a hearse and is heading towards the city Your Grace, they're assuming Imelda is inside of it of course." Victor replied as she marched over to her vanity, staring into the mirror with concentration as her hair slowly returned to its natural black.
Another glamour of course.
"You need to keep us posted on every single detail, understand? I want to know where he is every step of the way and what he's doing! I don't care if a guard needs to hide on the ceiling of the room he's in!" She snapped, hanging up the phone and ramming it into the pocket of her dove gray suit jacket.
"Blue, how are you getting there? I don't want you behind the wheel! You could crash for fuck's sake! Why didn't you make Carlos wait to give you a ride over at least?!" He exclaimed, following her down the stairs where she began searching her purse for her keys.
Her hands were shaking.
She breathed a sigh and sat down on the couch, dumping the entire contents of her bag onto the coffee table until she took the keys into her hands and swallowed anxiously.
"Carlos and his crew have been patrolling all night and they're exhausted! And since I need them for tonight, I sent them all home to rest. They're human, and if they're too tired, they aren't alert and they can make mistakes. I can't afford anything else to go wrong here; I am responsible for this place! All of it!" She said in exasperation.
"Blue, this is a cemetery full of a bunch of fucking dead people. You have to know that your safety is more important than this," He argued as she stood shakily and marched into the kitchen with Chuck hot on her heels.
She slammed open a few cabinets in search of something before locating her thermos and yanking it down, hissing in pain when she stretched her ever-worsening wrist injuries where her scarring was becoming darker and far more prominent than he had ever seen it before.
She grabbed an energy drink from the pantry and 2 packs of blood from the fridge, handing one to him wordlessly before pouring the energy drink and the blood in the thermos and stirring, downing half of it in one go.
"I need your help," She said, swallowing thickly and avoiding his gaze.
"Sure, anything." He agreed with a shrug, but she shook her head and sighed.
"Don't agree so quickly, okay?" She said, laughing tremulously.
Chuck rolled his eyes and smirked before taking her hand in his own.
"I mean it. Anything, just tell me what to do." He said levelly.
Blue motioned for him to sit down for a moment and she took the seat beside him, their chairs facing one another.
"I'm in between a rock and a really hard place, as you may have guessed already. I would never, ever ask you to do something like this if I wasn't." She said tensely, to which he shrugged.
"Alright, who am I killing?" He asked, which made her laugh, but she stopped abruptly when she realized he was serious.
"I wish this was that simple, but its not." She murmured.
"Will you just tell me already?! It can't be that bad," He said, his patience waning.
He loved her, but he hated when she felt like she couldn't just come to him and talk to him without all the preamble and nervousness.
"Not to mention that we're short on time here," He said when he saw her hesitate again.
"You know how I do the glamours? Like this boring ass black hair?" She asked, to which he nodded.
"And you know how I do something at the drive-thru's so you kinda blend in and nobody gives you a second look?" She asked, and he nodded; motioning with his hand so she would get on with it.
"If I show you something, keep in mind that I can only hold the Glamour for a few minutes at best and it could never be permanent. Of all the things I can do for you on a permanent basis; this could never be one of them, the energy drain is just too great even when I'm at one hundred percent. This glamour is too large and intricate." She murmured apologetically, looking genuinely disappointed in her own extraordinary abilities.
"Blue, I don't care about any of that. I made peace with this body a long time ago; I told you that." He assured her.
She nodded nervously, popping open a portable mirror on one of her keychains and enlarging it magically before she took a deep breath and turned it towards him wordlessly.
"Holy shit!" He gasped, leaping to his feet involuntarily and staring at his reflection.
He looked exactly as he had before he had died and transferred his soul.
The eyes, his face, his long shoulder length dark chestnut hair, even the customary suit he always wore.
"I hope I got the clothes right? I'm kinda going off mugshots and the crime scene photos from the toy store," Blue confessed anxiously, biting her bottom lip as was her habit when something made her nervous or uncertain.
Chuck pulled his eyes away from his borrowed reflection.
"It's perfect, but we don't have a lot of time and this is gonna drain the hell out of you as it is. I'm assuming you want me to drive and that's why I look like this?" He asked her, signature smirk still familiar even in his former body.
"Yeah, If you wouldn't mind." She sighed, feeling woozy already and trying to hide it. Chuck opened the fridge and removed several blood pouches and took the rest of the energy drinks from the pantry and stuffed them in a grocery tote.
"Let's get you to the office then," He said, glad of his borrowed height as she swayed when she stood, and he caught her now smaller frame easily.
She was like a little doll from his old height as he guided her out to Bessie and helped her into the passenger seat.
"You okay?" He asked as they pulled off onto the main road.
Blue nodded, but she looked as though she were going to be sick any moment now.
Thankfully, the main office was only five minutes from the small house they shared and there were little posts along the road that gave him easy directions. When they parked, Chuck saw a car parked in the visitors parking that must have belonged to the mystery cremains family.
"I can only hold it for a little longer, so when we get out go around to the side door and use the old fashioned gold key to get it. It'll let you into the back of the file room, just wait for me there okay?" She asked and he nodded as they got out in unison and he walked briskly to the door she had indicated while she went through the front.
"Good morning, I apologize for keeping you waiting! My name is Akishla Rainieri and I'll be assisting you today; I understand that you're here for your loved ones cremains?" She asked the couple that was sitting in the waiting area.
"Oh, it's no problem at all. We're here for Emily Jefferson's urn, I am- was- her Sister Margaret," The woman said standing and shaking Blue's hand.
"I understand. Let me just take a look in the back and I'll be right with you; Please feel free to help yourself to the Keurig or the mini-fridge," She replied, inwardly praying that Mort had actually cremated the decedent in question.
Mort's office was tidy and spotless as always when Blue entered and shut the door behind her. A pang of sadness and worry hit her the moment she was alone in his space, the familiar scent of his cologne and the coffee he always drank an almost overwhelming reminder of his absence.
She made her way behind his desk and moved his leather wingback chair, flipping up a hidden portion of the carpet under his desk to retrieve the set of spare keys that he kept hidden there just in case.
"Yeah, just in case a fucking Vampire turns you into a zombie sex slave and you go AWOL and leave all the work to me." Blue muttered under her breath with an irritable sigh, walking over to the ornate curio cabinet and unlocking it.
"Please be in here Emily," She murmured, seeing several urns that had yet to be retrieved by their relatives and gingerly picking them up and turning them over to read the label underneath.
Blue sighed in relief when the fifth urn she picked up read Jefferson, Emily Diana on the bottom. She placed it on Mort's desk and re-locked the cabinet with a sigh of relief before placing the urn in a velvet-lined box and carrying it back out to the family.
"I'm so sorry for your loss! Were you in need of any information on final interment or scatter sites? We have some pamphlets if you'd like to take them with you to look over," She said softly as Chuck watched her from the shadows; seeing this side of her was definitely new.
"Thank you, that would be very helpful." Margaret sniffed.
Blue offered her some Kleenex and a few pamphlets that she quickly gathered from a nearby desk.
"I've included our card here too. Please don't hesitate to call us with any questions, we're always here to help." She said as she walked them out to their car, waiting until they drove off before she returned inside, rubbing the irritation from the sun out of her eyes and sighing in relief until the phone in Mort's office rang; causing her to make a mad dash for it before it could go to voicemail.
Chuck made sure the coast was clear just to be safe before running into Mort's office behind her and partially shutting the door seating himself on the sofa behind it to keep out of view.
"Thank you for calling Beecher Glen Cemetery, how can I help you?" She answered, holding her temple, and shutting her eyes as she listened to the call.
Chuck busied himself making her another blood and energy drink cocktail in her thermos while she gave the customer on the phone some quotes for a few different caskets.
The phone barely stopped after that; Blue logging into the cemetery profile from Mort's desktop to answer the various questions from customers and even a few vendors that Mort contracted for various supplies. A few hours into it and she was drained; she had given up on keeping the black hair glamour as soon as the Jefferson's had left, but even the absence of that strain wasn't doing her much good.
By 3pm, she was pale and shaken and could barely sit upright for the exhaustion that was taking hold of her; and Chuck wanted to get his hands on Mort so badly for putting her through all of this now of all times that he could barely see straight.
When she wretched into the trash can at the desk unexpectedly, he ran to the bathroom the wet a few paper towels, returning to help her over to the couch and press a cool towel to her forehead and lay her back against the cushions in an attempt to quell her nausea.
"Mort's gonna kill me if I puke over here," She muttered miserably, causing Chuck to scoff.
"Fuck him! You wouldn't even be here having to do all of this if he could keep it in his fuckin pants!" He growled as she collapsed further back into the cushions.
He felt powerless as she lay there motionless and so pale that she was beginning to look like a sculpture.
"Blue, you need to drink a little from me. It might help you," He said, at a loss as to how else to help her.
"Chuck, no offense but I think I'll puke on you if I even try. I feel like- oh fuck all, never mind!" She caught herself, giving a mirthless laugh at what she almost vocalized, but the joke was lost on him.
"You feel like shit, Lets leave it at that." He said, caressing her cheek as she closed her eyes once more.
"Sorry about all of this; I know that you didn't sign up for it," She muttered weakly, as though she were barely clinging to consciousness.
"Will you stop apologizing? Especially about shit that you can't even control," He shushed her.
Blue's phone pinged and Chuck retrieved it from Mort's desk, reading the now hourly check in from Victor.
"No change in Mort's location," He shrugged carelessly, handing her the phone.
"Call the answering service and get these damn calls transferred over until tomorrow. You can't do anymore today, you're exhausted Babe," He said as she struggled to sit up, but he gently lay her back.
"It's not even four yet," She croaked, struggling to rise when the phone rang again.
"Lay down! Why the fuck are you so stubborn?!" He hissed, picking up the call and answering it.
Blue's eyes widened in a panic, but when he answered professionally and was even able to quote cremation costs accurately from the list she had pulled out of Mort's files earlier, she visibly relaxed.
"You're hired," She joked softly when he hung up and returned to her side.
"Answering service and then home and bed," He persisted, handing her her phone again.
Blue's shoulders sagged as she complied, knowing that he was right, and she needed rest badly.
She called the answering service and transferred all calls to them until tomorrow, suppressing a pang of guilt that she couldn't stay until five.
"Now, take a drink so we can get you home." Chuck said, pulling at his collar to expose his neck and shoulder to her.
She complied bonelessly, her fangs sinking into him neatly as he cradled her there; the intimacy of the moment and the emotions that kaleidescoped back and forth over their bond palpable as they both reclined on the couch.
Blue was able to hold the glamour in place for him long enough for him to drive them back home and help her into the house, but she collapsed halfway up the stairs to their room and had to rest a moment before arduously continuing; so exhausted by the time she made it to the bed that she curled up on her side fully clothed. She swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut as a new wave of pain ripped through both of her wrists and they throbbed anew as she hissed in pain.
Chuck took her hand in his own gingerly and peeked under the sleeve of her suit jacket.
The scars were raised and swollen into two long, jagged, and deep purple lines surrounded by angry redness and varying shades of bruises. He helped her undress slowly, pausing patiently when she needed to lay back for a moment before continuing. She balked when he removed the bracelet he had given her and placed it on the nightstand, but he shushed her wordlessly and she lay back once more.
He pulled out the much-used and abused medical kit and pulled out some ace bandages and cracked two small ice packs, partially wrapping her wrists before placing the ice packs against the underside of them and securing them in place with the remaining length of the wrap. Chuck tugged the blanket over her then as she trembled with the effort of holding in her pain as much as she could.
"You should leave….I don't want you to see me like this," She sobbed, but Chuck simply repacked the med kit and put it to the side before stroking her forehead to calm her as she squeezed her eyes shut again.
"I'm assuming pain medication isn't going to help?" He asked but she shook her head.
"I wouldn't be able to suffer for what I did then, would I?" Blue asked shakily.
"Is the ice helping some?" He asked, seeing some of the tension in her shoulders and back relax slightly.
"Yeah…. A little….." She breathed, swallowing thickly, and struggling to keep her eyes open.
"Go to sleep Babe, don't fight it." He murmured, climbing in beside her and trying to contain the whirlwind of sadness, anger, and helplessness spinning inside of him.
As he lay there stroking her hair to soothe her he couldn't help but feel a certain amount of rage and incredulity at the universe in general. Out of all the scumbags and assholes traversing their way across the planet, the powers at be had zeroed in on Blue and it wasn't fucking fair; she was a good person, better than anyone else he had ever had in his life.
His Mate's phone pinged again and Chuck plucked it from the nightstand, frowning at the screen when he saw Victor report that Imelda had awakened and fed from Mort once again while he sat in a daze; both of them holed up in a little town house in the Gold Coast neighborhood close to downtown Chicago.
Chuck let Victor know that Blue was resting, but he was keeping an eye on Mort's situation for her sake. He was so pissed at Mort that he couldn't even verbalize it and he doubted very much that things would ever be the same between them. Chuck had never been a forgiving person; even when he had been human if you had fucked him over once the trust was gone and that was that.
When his own phone pinged in his pocket he startled for a moment, not expecting it to go off since the only two people who normally texted him at all were currently indisposed.
He fiddled with the touchscreen on it for a moment before Hitchcock began cawing loudly and beating his wings in his cage; it was the Instacart delivery that he had ordered yesterday and nearly forgotten about.
When he made his way downstairs, he could see Hitchcock in his large cage at the kitchen window, his sightless eyes staring and head bobbing at the delivery guy who was placing the bags on the porch.
"Alright Lassie, I got it! Calm the fuck down," He said as Hitchcock cawed again and hit his wing at the bars in irritation; he was actually letting them know that someone was at the door.
"Why is our fucking bird a dog?" Chuck muttered, waiting until the delivery guy pulled off before opening the door to get their stuff.
As he put everything away and fed Hitchcock, he was surprised at how different the house felt in the absence of Blue and their usual banter. He had spent his life as a loner for the majority of the time, only dealing with people when it was absolutely necessary; even Tiffany had gotten used to him fucking her and leaving in the middle of the night, unable to lay next to her even until morning for the antsy feeling creeping under his skin in her presence.
Now, as Blue lay slowly dying upstairs and he was powerless to stop it, he wondered how he was going to cope without her; even temporarily.