"It's Akkadian."
Niko raised her head from a report to find none other than Macy Vaughn looking down at her from across the desk. She tried to casually close her notebook on the triquetra case. "Dr. Vaughn! Hi. How... did you get in here?"
"Desk sergeant said, and I quote, 'Hamada is in the pen, and she didn't say hi to me this morning, so good luck.'" Macy grinned.
"Sounds like Moe." Sighing, Niko stood to shake Macy's hand and straighten her clothes. "Akkadian, huh?"
"Related to Sumerian. A true ancient language." At Niko's gesture, Macy sat down on the plain wooden chair next to her desk. "It says, 'Heavy is the heart of a hero with a loved one.'"
"Well that's a little more poetic than last time, but doesn't really help us… again." Niko pianoed her fingers on her desk, humming. "Thanks for doing that. I'm a pretty good researcher, but this… a little out of my wheelhouse. I did have one more thing to run by you, if you have a sec?"
"Sure."
Niko opened her notebook to the page of scribblings from the first murder. She gestured at the triquetra, careful to keep her other hand over the rest. "Have you ever seen this before?"
The tall woman stared at it intently for a few seconds, then back up at the detective. "No. Never."
Hm. She was definitely not dealing with a hardened criminal here. Macy blinked rapidly and cleared her throat as she answered, as if she were the star in an instructional video of how to give away a lie with body language. "Never? In all your... antiquities studies?"
"You know, let me take a picture of this, and I'll see if Mel or Maggie know."
It was a decent save, and Niko let her get away with it for now, for some unknown reason she would try to process later. "Okay. Thanks anyway. I'm sure you've gotta get to work."
"Let me know if there's anything else I can research for you. Happy to help, Ni… Detective Hamada." Macy was looking at her with an odd mix of concern and curiosity.
"Can I… help you with something else?" Niko said eventually, knowing she was off her game for giving in to the silence first, but too tired to care. Maybe they were involved with the murders, but this was just putting out feelers, anyway. Not like Macy Vaughn was about to Slasher her in the middle of the station.
"How are you? You seem kind of… tired. No offense! Just, uh—are you... okay?" Macy was slowly lowering herself back onto the chair from where she'd stood to leave.
Niko's cheeks and neck flared with heat, and she self-consciously rubbed at her eyes. If one more person chose to make her sleep schedule their fucking business… She steeled herself. "Me? Yeah… yes. This work never sleeps. Thank you, for asking."
"I know the feeling. Sometimes I blink in the lab, and I haven't even stretched my legs for six hours." Macy smiled softly. "Sorry, I don't want to be rude, just in big sister mode today. Maggie and Mel are hard to keep safe, if that makes sense."
Even though they'd only spoken a few times over the course of the week since she'd met the trio of sisters, Macy Vaughn had an air about her that seemed unquestionably good . That was the strange feeling Niko had felt before— trust . Macy was warm, whip smart, and open, despite the occasional weird lie, and more than once Niko had wondered how she could be so different from her middle sister, the walking embodiment of a balloon just about to pop.
"Did your sisters send you down here as tribute? You lose a bet or something?"
Macy chuckled, rubbing a hand over the side of her neck. "The station is on my way. Besides, you and Morris are okay as far as cops go, I guess."
Niko found herself smiling exhaustedly back at the tall woman. "Thanks, I guess." She huffed, putting down her pen. "You and your sisters haven't… You haven't been bothered by anyone lately, any strangers or lurkers that made you uncomfortable?"
"It's a college town. It happens a lot more than I'd like, but nothing aside from drunk students wandering the wrong way home." Macy's smile faded. "Why? Is there—should we be concerned?"
"Hm? No, no. Not that I know. I just wondered. There's obviously someone fucked up around town."
As the eldest sister stood yet again, she cocked her head and gave the detective another one of those looks . Each look seemed to have its own mysterious meaning for each sister, but they were packed with something that Niko was growing very weary (and increasingly suspicious) of not understanding, no matter how much she personally liked Dr. Macy Vaughn.
So she found herself stalling again as Macy almost turned to walk away: "Can I ask you another question?"
"Well, that does seem to be your favorite pastime, detective."
Niko shrugged, kept her tone light: "You and your sisters keep giving me this look , and the only place I've seen it before is with the families of victims whose cases I've worked. Am I missing some kind of history between us, civilian to cop? I'm sorry if I am forgetting something that was significant to you, it's just that I talk to a lot of people in this job."
Macy's friendly expression faltered for a split second, almost fast enough that Niko's imagination might've put it there—but for just that moment, the detective could've sworn the look was a swirl of sadness and... pity . Then it was gone. "No, I—not that I know of. No."
"Okay." Niko slumped back into her chair, rolling her head to try to get some of the cricks out of her neck. "My bad, then. Forget I said anything."
"We did lose our mom this past year," blurted Macy, leaning forward slightly. "She was murdered. You didn't investigate, but just… it's fresh, you know?"
Niko frowned as she straightened back up, chair creaking in protest of the sudden movement. "Wait, your mother? How did I not know this? Who was your point of contact?"
"I'm not sure, I wasn't living at home at the time. It's a, um, a long story."
The detective held up her hands, a little too quickly. She wanted to look up the case before launching into a soft interrogation with the any of the sisters about it. "That's okay, you don't have to explain. I appreciate the perspective, regardless."
Macy opened and closed her mouth a couple times before seeming to come to a decision, and then she produced a bottle of water from her purse, setting it gently down on the desk. "Just… take care of yourself."
When she was sure Macy had left the building, Niko unlocked her computer and checked for murder victims with the last name "Vaughn" before remembering, belatedly, that Maggie and Mel's last names were Vera.
It didn't take long to turn up the case of Marisol Vera. But not in the homicide files.
August, 2016
"Maggie? Maggie, what the fuck did you do with my—"
Mel froze with her hand still on the front door, nearly tripping over her own boots. Maggie sat in the living room of their mom's house with Niko, and both of them looked a little puffy-eyed as they turned to Mel.
"Hey," greeted Maggie first, delicately wiping at the shining skin under her eyes. "Sorry, we were just talking—"
"Can you give us a second?"
Maggie shot her sister a pleading look, but still got up from her chair. As she passed, she stopped to whisper, "Go easy on her. Remember what mom said."
When they were alone, Mel crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows at the officer, who looked as though she was trying to make herself as small as possible, like a kicked dog. "What are you doing here?"
Niko gestured to the chair recently vacated by Maggie, but Mel just shook her head. "I, um… I just wanted to talk."
"I'm sure," snarled Mel before she could stop herself, and not really sorry that she failed to. A month earlier, in a weeks-long process of escalating arguments, she'd ended things with the very much engaged officer, no longer able to bear the hurt of Niko going home to someone else every night, of Niko making her the homewrecker because she wouldn't just talk to her fiancé about their problems, despite numerous promises that she would. The wedding had even gotten a firm date at a venue… and to mark the occasion, Mel had thrown Niko's random stuff left at her apartment in a trash bag and hurled it at the officer when she'd come up the stairs the last time they'd seen each other. She'd hurled plenty of colorful, multilingual insults, too.
"Look, I'm not… My friends are mad at me right now, so I don't… I don't have anyone else to talk to. Sora's deployed, and… And it's not your problem, I know. But I could really, really go for just a half-second where I can just pretend I have a friend right now."
Mel's traitorous being felt a pang of sympathy, but she remained stubbornly still in the entryway. She had given Niko months to follow through on what she said in the haze of pillow talk. Months.
"I told Greta everything, and we called off the wedding. I moved out."
"When?"
"Two weeks ago."
"Good for you."
Niko looked at her hands as she anxiously wrung them in her lap. "Like I said, I don't…" She took a deep, but shuddering breath. "Fuck, just… why are words like this?"
Mel could feel her carefully constructed anger dampening, but thankfully, even just realizing how Niko could make her walls crumble like that with a few watery words made the rage flare back up, brighter and tinged with the impulse to lash out.
She didn't fight it. "I honestly don't give a shit what words you use, Niko. If you want to soundboard me, go ahead, but you and me are… We are nothing. You strung me along like some little pet, so we don't get to be friends now. You made me every stupid girl in every movie where this exact thing happens, in addition to being the scapegoat for your issues with your marriage. I'm sure Greta and her old money Anglo-Saxon-Protestant family don't blame the spicy little Latina at all for ruining her life, right? How many people that I have never met now think I'm a horrible person?"
The officer slid out of her chair to her knees, head hanging, arms limp against her sides. "I'm sorry. I'm really s-sorry. You're right. I fucked up."
Mel tightened her jaw at the first sob she heard float across the room, but she moved closer regardless. Just a couple steps. The officer looked like she might pass out. "Get up, Niko."
Instead, the tall woman crumpled to her elbows and knees, forehead on the ground. It could've been a bow, but it honestly looked like a full body collapse, and Niko's chest began heaving with shuddering sobs. Emotions warred in Mel's chest, banging around like a toddler with wooden spoons. Resentment. Jealousy. Shame. Love. Without her mind's permission, her body carried her across the room and down to her own knees, her hand gently resting on Niko's head. The rage-fueled urge to destroy Niko had been briefly satisfying, but now she just felt… empty.
"Niko, sit up. Please." Mel wrapped a hand around a trembling shoulder and pulled her back into a sitting position, then let go.
The front door startled them both when it burst open, and it took Marisol Vera a few seconds of fumbling with her keys to realize they were even there. Mel saw her mother spare a glance up at the landing, where she was sure Maggie sat trying to listen in from out of sight, and then Marisol cautiously stepped towards the living room.
"Are you two okay? Hi, Niko, nice to see you." Her mom had two large paper grocery bags in her arms, but she still lifted one of them in a wave-like gesture.
"Hi, ma'am," said the officer in a low tone, pawing at her wet cheeks. "Sorry, I was just leav—"
"We're fine, mom. Can you give us a second?"
Marisol eyeballed them for a beat longer than strictly necessary, chewing her bottom lip, before casually saying, "I'm glad you're here, Niko. Mel has been really moody without you."
"Mom!" protested the elder Vera sister, throwing her hands up.
"I'm going, I'm going." Marisol headed towards the kitchen, exaggeratedly holding a bag up to hide her face.
As angry as she wanted to be, Mel knew immediately as she turned back to Niko that her mother's interruption had shifted the energy between them, a little nudge off the planned course. Though unhappy that an engaged woman had stolen and subsequently broken her daughter's heart ( "Don't get me wrong, I'd throw a drink in her face if I was thirty years younger," she'd said testily over a mother-daughter wine night), Marisol stood firmly in the corner of Team Forgiveness, which happened to also include Maggie. As far as the household went, Mel was alone on the Island of Bitter Resentment. At this very moment, it was not a fun place to be. She sighed and, resigned, took one of Niko's shaking hands in her own.
"I'm sorry. You didn't deserve all that," she said quietly. "I've known since the first night that you're engaged. That was my choice, too. Two, tango, whatever they say."
Niko, also somewhat calmer after the interruption, finally looked up to meet her eyes with reddened ones. "I did deserve that."
"Nik, it's not… I made the choice to continue seeing you because at first I just wanted whatever piece of you I could get, until I started wanting it all. I ended it because I love you, and I still love you." Mel lifted one of her hands to the officer's cheek. "But I'm still really fucking pissed at you."
"I know."
"And we're not done talking about… this."
"I know."
"We can't rush into something. We have to go slow."
"I know." This time, the two simple words had a tinge of hope to them. "A whole new world."
Mel didn't fight the way the happy little spark in Niko's eyes made her cheeks warm. She pulled the officer to her feet and pressed their lips together firmly, but briefly. She only pulled back a couple inches to ask quietly, "What are you doing Saturday?"
"What?"
She repeated the question, adding, "I'd like to go on a date with you. A real one. In public. With clothes on. Like adults. And then we're going to go to our respective homes and not have sex, just so we're clear."
More tears trickled from Niko's eyes, but she broke into a smile that faltered, like she was afraid of what Mel might think of it. "I think I'm free."
"Pick me up at eight."
They stood awkwardly for a moment, Mel's hands on Niko's shoulders, and then Marisol poked her head back in from the kitchen with a knowing smile on her face. "Are you staying for dinner, Niko? It's just chicken and rice, but you look like you need to eat."
The officer looked at Mel first for permission, and she gave a small nod. As mad as she was at her, Mel didn't want Niko to go home to be alone, not when she looked so damn devastated under the small improvement in an appreciative, small smile. This wasn't just about the two of them. If Niko was going to be part of Mel's life, she was part of the Vera women's lives, too, though ideally more present this time around. The officer excused herself to the bathroom to wash up, and Mel shuffled over to give her mom a bear hug in the hallway, not the least bit mad about Marisol's knowing smile or the way Maggie appeared from behind the door.
"Hello, Charity."
"Harry."
Mel ignored the sexually tense magical beings as she stepped into the attic, having gotten a text from Maggie that they'd identified their demon wolf. The fact that Charity was there meant the answer wasn't pleasant, not that there had been any chance it would be good . The anticipation set Mel's teeth on edge before anyone even began speaking.
"What do you witches know about werewolves?" asked Harry as preamble.
"Uh, full moon, silver bullets, nasty temperament. Thank you, next," replied Maggie, already using her bored tone.
"Werewolves and other animal shapeshifters are fairly common cultural fixtures; there are wendigos, kitsune, wargs, varúlfur… they're all a little bit different. Hence our difficulty identifying our furry friend."
Charity cut in: "Your wolf is not the silver bullet allergy kind. His name is Fitela, and he was one of the first. He is actually a man who stole his power from a warlock. This is an old, old creature, twisted by magic he was never meant to have. He won't hesitate to kill you for your power."
"Why is he killing humans? Just to gain strength?"
"That, and apparently some other gain. The second human died so Fitela could retrieve an unknown artifact. We don't know what he had yet, but Mr. Faulk specialized in Norse weaponry."
"Big sword, wants to eat us, got it," sighed Mel, rubbing her temple. "Very helpful, guys."
"Are you all right, dear?" Charity was suddenly in Mel's personal space, her slender hand resting on the witch's shoulder as her usually perfectly smooth brow furrowed.
"About as good as I can be with a demon wolf on the loose." Much as she had tried to hate Charity for what happened with Tripp… his death hadn't been her fault. He'd been a really good detective. And the frame job? A heat-of-the-moment decision that the lizard brain part of her could understand. Besides, Charity had been so close to her mother... if only the sisters could figure out how to make her stop being so damn Dumbledore about everything, maybe that connection would mean all the difference someday.
"I came here to deliver this news because I… I need you to understand how serious tangling with this creature can be. Witches cannot be turned into weres, but humans — if one were to survive an attack, they'd turn. That can set off an epidemic very, very quickly. Take the time you need, make three contingency plans, and call me immediately if humans get infected. Okay?"
Mel nodded on behalf of the trio of sisters, and the Elder and the whitelighter disappeared in the trademark shower of purple sparks.
"Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool," muttered Maggie, opening the Book before immediately closing it again. "Nope. Not doing this. I need a break. Going to Kappa House."
Macy suddenly blurted: "I saw Niko today. Gave her the translation."
Both sisters looked at her with mirror surprised expressions.
"How was she?" asked Maggie, quicker than Mel. She'd paused where she'd been headed towards the stairs.
"She asked me about the Charmed Ones symbol Fitela keeps leaving with the messages. I told her I didn't know what it was. I don't know why, I just panicked." Macy plucked at an imaginary wrinkle in her shirt.
"Yeah, but how was she?" repeated the youngest sister.
Mel wrinkled her nose, confused about the note of distress in Maggie's tone.
"She seemed… tired." Macy spoke carefully, not quite meeting Maggie's eyes. "She asked me outright why we're always looking at her funny, and I couldn't exactly tell her we just have no chill, so I told her about mom. I just thought you should know, in case. Lying to her is a lot harder than I thought it would be, for some reason." Her nose wrinkled as she seemed to wrestle with a thought.
Maggie frowned along with her, rubbing her crossed arms idly. "Tired?"
"Like, to the point that I was a little worried about her. I've never seen Niko like that."
The youngest sister gave Mel a meaningful look. "I think I have, and trust me, it sucks ."
Mel turned away, playing with the hem of her shirt. Niko and Maggie hadn't been friends per se, but they had spent plenty of time together, including holidays and birthdays and funerals, through the course of the now-extant relationship with Mel. Niko had helped teach Maggie to drive when Mel and Marisol were out of patience. She'd attended Maggie's high school graduation.
When their mom died, it had been Niko who loaded the devastated sisters into her car after identifying the body and drove them home. It had been Niko who half-carried both of them to Mel's bedroom, knowing they needed each other to get through the night, and it had been Niko who dragged them out of bed three days later to begin their lives again. Guilt seeped into her belly as she considered that she'd never before thought about how maybe, possibly, she didn't have a monopoly on being affected by Niko's reappearance.
Maggie groaned, throwing one arm out. "It's not like we can force her to go a marriage counselor or something… can we? So fucking stubborn… She's always been like this, I shouldn't be surprised."
They both suddenly turned to Mel, as if just remembering that she was even in the room. "Sorry," they said simultaneously.
"No, it's… It's fi... It sucks . We should talk about it so that it sucks… less. Or just, we suffer together." Mel tugged each sister under an arm, dragging their heads together.
After scrubbing the ground floor of the house of anything bearing the triquetra, just to be safe, Mel headed in to work, a much-needed getaway from the relentless feels that was currently her personal life. Perry had sent her some selfies from the gym, bulging quads and veiny arms, and that certainly helped get her out of the stormcloud zone as she headed inside the bar. While yes, absolutely, she would've preferred to be teaching, there was something undeniably comforting about taking the slow shift and spending her hours mechanically cleaning cups and wiping down tables. Wax on, brain off.
Only a handful of permanently drunk and semi-to-unemployed regulars were milling around after the lunch rush. Mel had some time to get ahead on maintenance tasks for the evening shift, and since her boss was out that day, she also got to control the music, ending the tyranny of 1970s rock covers of classic Christmas songs. Hello, Big Sean. That's why she was knelt behind the bar restocking the disinfectant bottles when the bell over the door jingled, and she called out without rising, "Hi! Be with you in a second!"
Heavy bootsteps moved towards the bar, and the patrons were suddenly muttering unhappily. Mel froze, listening.
"It's 5-0, Melly. Ladycop," called one of the regulars, and Mel straightened up so fast that she whacked her head against the wheat ale tap. Pain bloomed in her forehead instantly, red-hot, and her vision blurred as she doubled over, torso slamming into the corner of the bar and knocking the air from her lungs.
"Oh shit, Mel, are you-"
"I'm fine!" gasped Mel, holding her palm to her forehead. The detective had somehow teleported from the door to the other side of the bar, the sudden proximity just adding to the pinwheeling haze in Mel's aching skull. "Don't touch me!"
Niko froze, hands slowly retreating while someone cackled at the perceived rebuke.
"That is a lot of blood," confirmed Irene, the patron who'd been warning her. She gave Niko a sideways look and added haughtily, "And here we are with the wrong kinda responder."
"It's okay, Irene," said Mel quickly. She could feel warm liquid dripping as far down as her neck. Just a scalp wound. Those bled a lot. This was fine. "She's a friend."
"I am?" was somehow the next thing Niko said, and Mel pulled her hand away to look at the damage.
Okay, it was definitely a lot of blood. She had the brief feeling of weightlessness, heard someone shout, and then shit I'm gonna—
"Mel? Mel?"
"I told her not to touch you, Melly. She didn't listen."
Her eyes popped open to folded knees on the ground. She swiveled them up slowly and, as she feared, the body parts in her vision belonged to none other than Niko, kneeling over her as if ready to perform CPR. She groaned more at the embarrassment than anything.
"Medical response is on its way. You might have a concussion. Do you want me to call your sisters or Perry?"
"No… no sisters… no Perry." Mel closed her eyes against throbbing pain. "No… hospital."
"Let's have the EMTs check you out and go from there, okay? There's no charge for care. Can you keep your eyes open for me?"
"Mmphh. No." The witch tried to focus on her body, to reorient her senses. Obviously, she was on the floor, on her side, and there were several patrons crouched around, breathing down a cloud of tequila and whiskey vapors. Niko had removed her jacket and placed it under Mel's head.
"I hear sirens pulling up. Stay still." Mel groaned again, this time out of sheer disbelief, when she heard Niko call, "Steph! It's me, and—it's Mel."
"Hey there, kids," greeted Stephanie, setting a bag down. She looked more old school than ever in her tight navy HFD t-shirt, black cargo pants, and black boots. "Your friendly neighborhood EMT-certified firefighter has arrived, no need to panic, ladies and gentlemen. I heard something about a cranium and a spigot. Classic."
"She passed the fuck out," added Irene loudly. She'd grabbed her own whiskey bottle from the bar, and saluted Mel with it when they made eye contact. "It's the cop's fault—scaring the literal life out of good folks."
Niko rolled her eyes, but said nothing to Irene. Instead, she said to her friend: "She was only unconscious for maybe five seconds, if that."
"Long enough," murmured Stephanie, more to Mel than Niko. She leaned down, smiling warmly. "How you doing, kid?"
"Fucking hurts. Don't call me kid."
The firefighter chuckled, but was nice enough to keep it quiet. "It's a good sign you're well enough to take issue with that. Do you have any pain in your neck or back?"
"Uh, yes…" She was losing the will to fight against Stephanie's steady, pleasant voice, and quieted down for the narrated exam.
"Can you wiggle your fingers and toes for me? Good. Is it okay if I touch you? I'm gonna roll you onto your back now. I want you to keep your muscles relaxed. Now sit up. All right." Stephanie went through a few more questions aimed at assessing cognitive function, did a quick physical check for pain and reflex response, and then rocked back on her heels. "I do think you're concussed, but it doesn't seem severe. Good thing RoboCop here caught you before you hit something, there's plenty to reinjure yourself on back there. Unfortunately, this all just means the effects could get worse, or could be off and on for a little bit. You might be just fine. And you don't want to go to the hospital?"
"I'm fine. Just leave me down here for a minute." Sitting up had been a chore, and she worried they'd whisk her away if she passed out again while trying to stand.
"Serious talk now. You shouldn't keep working today, and I'd honestly suggest having someone nearby for the next few days." Stephanie unwrapped and applied a couple bandages as she spoke. "Might not pass out, but you could become dizzy, fatigued. I'd really, really recommend talking to your doctor about it. Capisce?"
"Works for me."
"I'm gonna get the ambulance bros to actually close that up for you, they should be just a couple minutes out." Stephanie helped her to her feet. "And put some ice on that. It's hideous ."
Mel tried not to notice the chuckle that got out of Irene.
Niko's third encounter with Mel Vera went the worst of them all, and at what had to be record speed. The bar was somewhat known for an unsavory element, whispering remnants of Russian mobster activity, so she hadn't been surprised by the birdcalls and other audible warnings that went out as soon as she stepped from her department vehicle. If she was being honest, that reaction was always a little exhilarating, not because she felt that she was in danger, but it was all very The Shield and inspired a reflexive swagger. She liked to think of herself as HPD's Ronnie Gardocki, but Morris argued she was no one if not Curtis Lemansky.
As for the task at hand: Marisol Vera.
Partly out of indulgent nosiness, partly for their investigation, and mostly out of genuine curiosity, Niko had pulled the full file on Marisol and reviewed it from top to bottom. Butch Rogers, a patrol sergeant, had been the primary officer on the case since it had never been referred to homicide division, and she didn't see any reason to doubt his conclusion: a terrible accident. The window was a known problem. Alcohol in her system. He did note that the victim's daughters had repeatedly suggested murder some months after the death, but there was just no evidence to support that. Some families turned to murder theories in the face of unbearable tragedy because it somehow made their grief easier—the loss more sensible. Less meaningless. She'd personally seen it plenty of times.
Still, the text message the daughters had received shortly before their mother's fall, urgent and clipped, did pique her interest, enough that she'd ended up down a rabbit hole of accidental death reports. Two in particular caught her attention: Paula Garcia and Cecilia Lopez, 54 and 42, respectively, married, no children. Paula had fallen down a flight of stairs. Cecilia had slipped on a puddle of water in her garage. Both women died from severed spines. So did Marisol. She looked up their maiden names, and the hair on the back of her neck rose: Vera .
There weren't any obvious warning signs that anyone in this family was a brutal killer or involved in something other than a peculiar collecting habit, but that's what people always said in the documentaries about heinous crimes, right? ( "We had no idea. They seemed so normal. Except for all these warning signs I only see now." Every damn time.)
By all accounts, Marisol was a fierce, kind woman who single-handedly raised two daughters while rising in academia. The faculty picture of her included in the file showed a beautiful smile and hair just like Mel's, cheekbones that she could see in Maggie. Macy Vaughn, recipient of Marisol's bright eyes, had clearly been a secret up until after Marisol's death, with no mention of her in the file, and Niko couldn't imagine how that reunion went, even if the sisters were thick as thieves now.
It all had nothing to do with their current mystery killer situation, not necessarily , but with this lightning bolt of coincidence swishing around in her brain, she needed to work through it with someone before being able to truly concentrate on anything else.
Morris was 96% there in his estimation that, at the very least, the sisters knew more than they were saying, and he would have preferred to bring them in for questioning, but Niko's gut had begun spewing this tale of the sisters as targets, not as perpetrators. The Marisol Vera topic seemed to be a good opportunity to shake the tree one more time for… something, while also clearing the non-case-related curiosity from her overfilled head. They had nowhere near enough to file charges, anyway, so a little bit of extra context would be nice, either to rule them out or push the investigation in that direction. The ADA would've sliced them with a boxcutter at the first hearing if they tried right now.
Macy had been her first choice of candidates to talk about the Vera connections, but of course Macy hadn't been there. The youngest, Maggie, might have been an option, but she was just this side of 18, still practically a kid, and Niko didn't feel it would be fair to the youngest sister to dredge up these theories and potentially get her hopes up for no reason. Maybe that was a little bit of her natural big sister tendency. Many a schoolyard bully had gotten a fat lip from "Sora's Big Sister." Whatever the case, she wasn't going to talk to Maggie about it, either. Which of course left... Mel. In all her nervous glory.
Jimmy had court for the afternoon, so with some time to kill, she'd asked Perry where to find her girlfriend, and then headed down to the bar upon the reply. She suspected Mel would turn her away if she texted directly, but this was more or less police business, and she didn't need permission to show up and ask some questions.
Look how the fuck that turned out within a matter of seconds .
Niko recognized Mel's disembodied voice as she approached the saloon-style, cherrywood bar. But when that patron—who Niko was certain she had arrested for d&d during her rookie year—had called out in warning, there was a flash of long black hair, and then a stomach-curdling thwack . For the next few seconds, she'd watched the shorter woman sway and clearly spiral, unsure what to do as long as she remained upright and unconsenting. When that shoe finally dropped, the parkour move Niko executed to clear the bar and catch Mel before she hit her head or neck on anything had surprised even herself, but she was just glad the petite woman woke up within a matter of seconds. Irene had not been impressed.
Troublingly, even though she opened her eyes again fairly quickly, Mel remained a little longer just outside of consciousness, unfocused eyes opening and closing slowly as nonsensical words squeezed out of her lungs. Then she had said something that Niko swore was, "I'm sorry Niko."
And even louder: "I did it for you."
Then her eyes opened and she seemed to come back to herself, and emergency services arrived. It was a mess. A literally bloody bless.
"What, uh… what're you doing here, Nik?" Stephanie had asked while the ambulance techs sanitized and closed Mel's wound across the room. "Day drinking, or something… else?"
Niko bristled. "What?"
Undeterred, the firefighter jerked her chin at Mel. "What are you doing here ?"
"Seriously, Steph? Are you kidding me?" The detective's chest flared with anger, her fists tightening. "I'm working on a case, Mel and her sisters are helping me. Ask Perry, she's the one who sent me down here. Jesus."
Stephanie held up her hands, shrugging. "Okay, okay. I believe you."
"Why would you even imply that ?" Niko snapped before she could stop herself, realizing immediately that it opened a door.
Her friend stepped right through it. " Really ? You really don't see how I might be surprised to find my married friend visiting my other friend's pretty young girlfriend?" She lowered her voice. "You really think I don't know when you and Greta are fighting? I've been right next to you since the night you got her number. I see all, kid."
Niko crossed her arms and huffed. "Glad to know you think so highly of me."
"I love you, and you know that. I wouldn't be your friend if I didn't call you out every now and then." One of the other firefighters called to Stephanie that they were leaving, and she clapped a hand on Niko's shoulder before jogging away.
When all the responders were finished and cleared out, Mel stood leaning on the bar, a bag of frozen broccoli wrapped in a towel held to her forehead.
"This is so embarrassing," she announced after a while, giving her head the barest of shakes.
The presence of sirens and uniforms had slowly but surely cleared the bar, though Niko and a couple of the firefighters made sure that they all paid something before making their exit (including Irene for the entire Southern Comfort bottle tucked in her jacket, but only after a long round of glowering at each other). The owner had called to tell Mel to just lock up, and the next shift would reopen. He had a cleaning crew for the blood on the way.
The detective noticed Mel's arm quivering, and she reached up to put a palm over the frozen bag, which had their fingertips brushing. "Let me."
Though she huffed, Mel dropped her hand away.
"Don't be embarrassed, it was a freak accident. I have to ask though, did you break a mirror lately?" To her surprise, the petite woman laughed softly at that. The sound made her chest loosen and flicker with warmth. "See this scar?"
Mel glanced over, and her eyes followed to where Niko had pushed her hair aside to expose a jagged white line about two inches long, running parallel to the column of her throat.
"I was in eighth grade, and I was really trying to impress this girl, Sadie Miller. She was on the sidelines of a soccer game, and I was so focused on trying to see if she was watching me with the ball that I just—" Niko smashed her free open palm against the bar. "—ran into a chain link fence, about yeigh high. Came very close to dying to look cool for a girl."
"Yeahh, but that's a much cuter story than this one: 'Bartender forgets to be careful in the bar where she's worked hundreds of hours.'"
"You did kinda freak out," chided the detective, adjusting her wrist over the frozen bag so she could see both of Mel's eyes. "Any… particular reason you're so jumpy?"
"Honestly... I'm kind of always like this." Mel shrugged wistfully. "Not always in a way that causes me bodily harm, though. Just a lot of anxiety."
The detective nodded, abruptly uncomfortable with her own motivations, but unsure what else to do. Speaking of, she remembered that she never got the chance to say why she was there in the first place: "Oh, uh—by the way, I didn't just come down here to give you a brain injury. Macy mentioned something to me a couple weeks ago, about your mom's death."
Mel visibly stiffened. "What about it?"
"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but I've been looking at the case, and there's just something… weird." Niko switched arms holding the cold bag in place.
"Yeah just, my head is pretty fuzzy right at this very moment. I don't know if you heard but I knocked myself the fuck out."
Niko let her jaw drop open in exaggerated surprise. "Was that—did you just make a joke?"
"I'll have you know, Detective Hamada, that I can be a very funny person, you just have to earn it." Mel almost managed a smile, but then it fell into a wince.
"Well, y'know what? You can prove it to me, and we'll talk about your mom, but I'd like to get you sitting down. Do you want to maybe grab an early dinner? I think I saw a diner down the street?"
"Ah, Daugherty's. You really know how to treat a girl right."
A faint heat grew in Niko's cheeks, and she had to give her head a little shake before it spread to her ears.
They drove the 500 or so feet, as Mel's skull couldn't take the teeth chattering cold, and were immediately seated in a bright blue vinyl booth. Niko found herself staring as the shorter woman idly thumbed through a menu. She had changed into Niko's emergency spare HPD t-shirt since her own shirt had been ruined with blood, and it was a little tight around the chest and hips. Niko chewed her cheek, trying and failing to tear her eyes away. Though a beacon of anxious energy, Mel was effortlessly attractive, and at that thought the detective tried to put on the metaphorical brakes as her brain choked out increasingly weak reminders. Perry's girlfriend. You are married. Perry's your good friend. You are married. To Greta.
This was Steph's fault, for putting the thought in her head, right? She tried to smile casually when Mel looked up.
"You paying, detective?"
"I guess it's only right."
"Good. I doubt my tips were great today."
"They don't pity tip?"
"The gallon of blood I dumped on the floor kinda made it difficult to get to the jar."
Their waitress appeared with a kind smile and plenty of specials for the day. Niko ordered two fried eggs and four slices of bacon because honestly, who could be satisfied with only two slices of bacon? Mel asked for a sausage hashbrown scramble, more bacon, toast, a fruit cup, and a milkshake.
"O-kay, so it's gonna be like that?" The detective nodded idly, and she had to admit she was impressed by the complete lack of remorse coming from across the table.
"It's gonna be like that. That'll teach you to make deals with me without some fine print." Mel's hands carded through her long black hair as she flashed a muted, almost bashful smile, which was so unfair .
Down, Hamada. "Duly noted." The detective quickly gulped some coffee to get herself together. Whatever flip had switched in Mel (hopefully not due to the bump on the head), this back-and-forth felt too easy, too worn in. Morris thinks she's involved in the case. Stephanie is preemptively suspicious. Do not pass go.
Except, despite her inner banter… something warm and gentle tugged at her belly as she considered the woman across the table. Her detective hat seemed to have blown away, and in its place sat a genuine sense of intrigue. She wanted to know more about Melanie Vera, favorite colors, childhood anecdotes, hopes for the future. It was unsettling, at the very least, but also…a bit exciting?
If she had to put a name to the feeling? Inevitability.
Luckily, Mel glided right past the moment: "So, I… I do want to talk about… my mom, but I think I need to eat first."
"Sure, I understand. I just have questions, a couple things to clarify." And after clearing her throat: "I, uh, I'm glad you have an appetite. That's a good sign."
Mel nodded, and Niko mourned the way her smile faded. "Thank you, for helping me back there. Maggie says I'm no good at showing gratitude so, consider yourself lucky for that."
"I'll take it."
"How's Greta?"
Niko blinked and glanced down at her wedding ring, a simple rose gold band. "She's great. Enjoying the new job, putting together her first exhibit. 'Female painters of the 1940s.' Living her best life."
Mel was nodding more vigorously than was strictly proportional to her words, but Niko appreciated the eager friendliness nonetheless.
"How's Perry?"
"Great!" Her voice squeaked a little. "You know Perry. If she's got some weights and her cappuccino protein shake, she's happy as a clam."
"Yeah, she's always kind of been like that. Luckily she's gotten a lot less aggro since she hit twenty-five."
Mel chuckled. " Aggro . What was her degree again? I remember it didn't surprise me at all."
After a thoughtful pause, their eyes locked, and they blurted simultaneously: "Nutritional science."
As they snickered together, the waitress appeared with their food perched along her outstretched arm. She set it down with all the confidence of decades of experience, spilling not a single crumb, and left them alone after politely asking if everything looked good. The shorter woman seemed to have finally relaxed, her shoulders loose as she made little happy noises after every other bite.
That was so distracting, Niko almost didn't hear the question when Mel said it: "Did it work?"
"Did what work?" she squeaked back, pressing her legs together nervously. Yes, the noises you're making worked.
"Did the whole fence situation win over Sadie Miller or not? No cliffhangers."
The detective cleared her throat. "Not in eighth grade, but senior year…" She gave a healthy eyebrow waggle. "Even though she was dating some baseball player at the time."
"Scandalous, Detective Hamada. A taken woman?"
"Somebody had to give her her first orgasm," Niko shot back without thinking, and she had to shove down the panicked urge to physically try to grab the words back.
Mel didn't seem fazed, her smile relaxing as she said in a mockingly reverent tone, "A true public servant."
"I do what I can to make the world a better place.."
"Ugh, of course you'd be one of those assholes who say stuff like that." Mel's eyes creased with mirth even as they rolled.
A quick movement to her left caught Niko's eye—a young waitress had been walking by with the coffee carafe and stumbled. Mel's hand was suddenly steadying the woman's shoulder, but the grab had been so quick Niko missed it completely, even though she could've sworn she was staring directly at Mel the moment it happened.
"Oh! S-sorry about that," apologized the waitress, brows furrowed, before walking off looking a little dazed.
When Mel looked back at her, Niko detected a shade of guilt in her expression. "Reflex. I used to play goalie."
"Yeah… nice save."
Mel tore into a slice of bacon with her teeth, a little bit of that nervous energy seeping back into her body language. "So, uh, my mom…"
"Right." Niko wiped her mouth on a napkin and leaned back, pleasantly full. Detective hat dusted off and back on her head. "What was it about your mom's death that made you start saying it was murder?"
"Oh." Mel put down her fork slowly. "Well, I didn't really have… evidence. It was just, the text, and she knew about the bad window. She wouldn't have been stumbling drunk up there around it, not that she ever got drunk enough to be stumbling around, anyway. The whole thing didn't feel right. Did you find something?"
"I don't think so, necessarily." Niko took a deep breath. "But I agree that the text was strange, so I checked some other cases, and there were two women of similar age to your mother who died in accidental deaths involving severed spines, all within about a month. The accidents made sense each time. The stairs were wet because it was raining, or the car was leaking water and they had a repair appointment scheduled. But this type of injury is very specific, and honestly tend to happen in accidents more like strikes of lightning than a rule. The last thing is, those two women had the same maiden name as your mom."
Mel's eyes widened steadily as the detective spoke, and her voice was thick and hoarse when she responded, "They what?"
"Vera. Their maiden names were Vera." She felt a little spike of alarm as the color drained from Mel's face and quickly reached across the table to touch her hand. "Sorry, this was a bad idea while you're—"
"It's okay. I'm glad you told me. That's… I have to go," she rambled as Niko handed the passing waitress her credit card. "I have to talk to my sisters about this."
"Wait, wait, hold up. You shouldn't be driving. I'll take you home."
Mel put up a little bit of a fight, more symbol than true ire, but they pulled up to the large, gothic house in Niko's car a half an hour later. There was a light on in the kitchen and one upstairs, but the street was quiet and mostly dark. Niko felt a little bump of adrenaline when she spotted The Window that had taken Marisol's life, for the first time understanding its significance. It looked so innocent up there, demure and glowing with flickering orange light. She glanced at her passenger to find Mel's face tight with anxiety, and she touched the shorter woman's shoulder.
"Everything okay?"
"Just trying to decide how I explain the giant crater on my head in the same conversation I tell them about this connection to Mom." Mel worried her bottom lip as she stared out the windshield. "It all feels like a really big deal, but somehow could also be meaningless, you know?"
"Sure. It happens a lot in my line of work." And before she could stop herself, Niko tacked on: "And my marriage."
Their eyes snapped to each other's, Mel's surprised and Niko's panicked, her hand snapping back from where it had still been resting on the other woman's shoulder.
"Sorry, I was thinking out loud." A beat. "Please don't say anything to Perry."
"I'm not that kind of girl," replied Mel warmly, not pleased, but empathetic. "And anyway… I'm sorry to hear that. Doesn't sound nice."
Niko let out a long breath as her emotions unexpectedly tried to shove themselves up her throat. She pummeled them back down where they belonged, tightly bottled in her chest, under the guise of a cough. Still, her traitorous voice broke as she thickly replied: "I, uh… I don't know if I can talk... about that."
The detective felt, rather than saw, Mel's hand come to rest lightly atop her own on the edge of her seat. Niko had been too busy turning her head away to avoid Mel seeing the tears in her eyes, because that was goddamn stupid, right? Mel was barely someone she considered a friend, or hadn't until just a few hours ago, and this was some heavy shit. She swallowed hard and kept her focus on a nonexistent speck in the ceiling of her El Camino.
"Niko…" Mel gave her hand a firm squeeze. "Look at me. Please?"
Something desperate and raw in Mel's voice made Niko's body respond without explicit permission, and she found herself staring into watery dark brown eyes.
"I—you didn't have to take such good care of me today, but you did without a second thought. I bet you do that for everyone in your life, and that's why—that's why Perry loves you. But take that and apply it to yourself, okay? As a fairly selfish person, I can tell you that it does wonders in moderation." Mel licked her lips, the motion drawing Niko's gaze there. "You don't have to be unhappy. It's not how people are supposed to live, no matter what promises they made in the past."
Something snapped in Niko's chest. And they were leaning towards each other when the porch light suddenly flickered to life, would have made the mistake that had felt unavoidable since they sat down to dinner, but like a sudden bath of ice water, the light made both women jerk back, voices overlapping and equally panicked:
"I should go, it's really—"
"You should go before—"
And in a flash, Mel was gone, leaving Niko to keep it together until the front door closed behind her, and then slam her palms against the steering wheel with a classic, mildly consoling shout of, "Fuck!"
"Are you kidding me?"
Mel closed the door behind her and took a deep breath before turning around, jaw clenching. "Maggie, I—"
"Shit, your face!" Maggie went from pissed off to concerned without missing a beat.
"What happened?" interjected Macy, suddenly filling Mel's personal space too. "Jeez Mel, are you okay?"
"I'm fine!" she snapped, swatting her sisters' hands away from her face and side-stepping away from them both. "I hit my head at work, the EMTs checked me out, I'm fine."
Maggie's face slid from a frown to a frown and Mel immediately realized her mistake. "Okay, so you're fine. Cool. Except I kind of wish you weren't fine, and maybe you hit your head hard enough that you're delusional or something, because we're back to: what the fuck , Mel? You called Niko to drive you home?"
"No! She was—she showed up at the bar, and she startled me." Mel went on to relay the rest of the story, leaving out certain… parts. For example, okay, so she'd laid it on a little strong at dinner, but there had been something so comforting about re-hearing Niko tell the Sadie Miller story with that first-time enthusiasm and twinkling grin. And fine, she didn't have a rationalization for that tiny slip in the car, except that she was exhausted and fighting the natural ease and attraction that still flowed between them had been a task too heavy to bear alongside everything else happening. So, fine. She had laid it on pretty strong, but they didn't need to know—
Unfortunately, Maggie's next words were: "I saw you two in the car."
Damn . Couldn't catch a break, again. "Nothing happened."
"Because I pulled a Mom and turned on the light! Mel, what were you thinking ?"
"Wait, Niko made a connection between our mom and two other women?" interrupted Macy.
"Not right now," snapped Maggie. "Help me out here!"
Macy shrugged and locked eyes with her middle sister, shoulders squaring. "You know she's right. You fucked up."
"I know, okay? Fuck, I am so done having this conversation over and over—it's fine , nothing's happened and nothing's going to happen. Just leave it alone."
"Actually, yes. Timeout," called Macy softly, but with conviction. "We're tabling it," she repeated when Maggie looked ready to protest. "Remember in the old timeline, how Tripp said that he thought he'd found two cases related to mom's, before he died? This has to be what he was talking about."
Mel tried not to wince upon hearing the deceased detective's name. In a fit of dark self-pity, she'd Googled his name to find out what changed. Since she'd never met Niko, she'd never met Tripp, and he hadn't been at the warehouse when they took down Harbinger, but he still had to stay dead per the spell's fine print. This time, the news reported he died in an accident at a construction site while investigating a major copper theft from the location, struck on the head in a freak accident of falling materials. His mother had been awarded a multi-million dollar settlement. Mel knew she'd rather have had her son, but the witch could take a modicum of comfort in the knowledge that he was no longer suspected in the Harbinger murders, which had subsequently just gone cold in the new timeline.
"Paula Garcia and Cecilia Lopez," she explained after her stomach untwisted. "Née Vera, both of them."
"We have to find their families, visit the places where they died," said Maggie immediately, beginning to shift like she meant right now . "They were obviously mom's sisters, right? That's what we're heavily hinting at?"
"Do we ask Harry?" The younger sisters nixed that idea hastily, as if Macy had suggested they go lick toads. "Fine, but we need to be careful. If we start sniffing around, then whatever did this to mom and her... sisters… could take notice, realize we're getting closer."
"Then maybe they'd finally show their face and we could take a shot," muttered Mel, though she agreed in general with her sister's assessment. "Tomorrow, I'm going to go down to the recorder's office and the courthouse to see what I can find, maybe a way to contact their husbands. Niko couldn't tell me every detail." Mel paused to clear her throat. Damn. She had just been enjoying thirty precious seconds of not thinking about Niko. "And in the meantime, we've gotta get rid of this wolf."
Hours later, Mel was thumbing through the Book of Shadows, nestled on her bed under all the covers, when she remembered that she'd turned her phone off before work. She already had a sinking feeling as it booted, and sure enough, within minutes, her Messages lit up with increasingly worried texts from Perry wondering where she was. Apparently Stephanie had told Perry about the head wound, but couldn't update her on whether Mel ever made it home. Shit.
She tried to call, but Perry ignored it and texted back:
11: 37 I'm coming overWrapping a quilt around her shoulders, Mel hurried downstairs and stood anxiously by the glass for the agonizing minutes it took for her girlfriend's Jeep to roll up in front of the house. She opened the door as soon as the lights turned off, and her teeth were chattering with cold by the time Perry lumbered up the front steps and into the foyer. Her face was drawn, inscrutable, and somehow that was worse than anger or frustration.
"Perry, I had my phone off, and—"
"I thought you were dead somewhere. I was about to call the police . What the fuck?"
"My sisters are home, so no yelling."
"No yelling? " Perry definitely yelled. " Je sus Mel, I don't need to know what you do every minute of every day, but why did I have to hear from Steph that you got a concussion and passed out at work? I mean, it's making me feel like I misunderstood, like… Am I not supposed to care?"
Mel had a passing wish that a hellhole would open up and swallow her. After this repetitive personal failure shitshow of a night, she deserved it. The pain in her chest demanded it. "Perry… I am so , so sorry."
Perry took a step back when Mel tried to touch her arm. "No."
"Okay, I deserve that." She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling lightheaded. This was too much all at once, the stress and burdens of her Charmed and personal lives colliding in the form of an epic migraine that made it difficult to think and a brokenhearted trainer trembling in front of her. This was exactly why she'd done the spell for Niko. But she was quickly coming to realize that Perry deserved better than this, too.
"Everything okay down there?" came Maggie's voice from the landing, sweet but with a tinge of warning: That's my sister you're yelling at. She'd apparently just gotten out of the shower and was toweling her hair in a long flannel robe. "Hey, Per."
"All good. Thanks," called Mel, giving her sister a curt shake of the head.
"Okay. Good to see you, Perry. Thanks for sharing her for girls night—we don't get to do those enough. After what happened today, it was really nice to spend some time together, just us, you know? Anyway, have a great weekend!" she called the last part from her room before closing the door.
Annoyance at her younger sister evaporated at the easily delivered excuse, the little intervention reminiscent of Marisol in a way that was both comforting and painful. Perry had softened a hair when they turned back to look at each other. Mel shakily held her hands out, silently asking this time, and Perry took them after a beat. The trainer's palms were rough and warm. Mel brushed a thumb over tanned skin, sighing deeply.
"I'm sorry . I totally understand why what I did was scary and hurtful. It's been a really bad day, but you're right. Concussions are typically the type of thing you at least mention to… the people that you care about."
Perry sniffled, watery green eyes pinned to the floor. "I'm glad you're okay."
Mel gently pulled her girlfriend into her arms, and the taller woman hunched a little to rest her head on her shoulder. She murmured something completely muffled by Mel's sweatshirt, and the shorter woman pulled back a little. "What did you say?"
Perry stiffened. "I… love you. I'm sorry for yelling."
Oh.
I've missed you. Mel blinked hard against Niko's voice filling her head, panic rising in her throat.
Is your sister home?
Her brain was misfiring and her lungs seemed to be filling with sand. Maybe the concussion was worse than she thought? Was she going to pass out again? It seemed like a distinct possibility. Perry continued watching her for a response, her expression slowly darkening as seconds ticked past in silence. The witch would've frozen things there if she thought it would do any good, but…
I will text you and ask you out. And nervously watch the dot dots for your response.
She knew what Perry wanted to hear, that wasn't the problem. She just couldn't bring herself to say it. It wasn't true. And that came with the realization that even if she wanted to, she couldn't do this again, couldn't bear even the thought of reciprocating Perry's words, and then having to lie to and lose her. This was why witches became "old crones", wasn't it? Her sanity wouldn't make it out of a second storm alive.
I love you so much, and you're the worst driver I know.
Mel stayed silent.
The trainer made a noise like a strangled whimper, turning towards the exit. "It's—you know what, that's… You've got a lot going on so, I'm just gonna… I'm gonna leave. I wanted you to know. And I'm glad you're okay."
"Perry—" The front door closed. "Shit."