Valda was holding the nameless were in an abandoned Warehouse on the other end of town. It only took a few minutes to drive there but it was, nonetheless, incredibly isolated. It was surrounded by overgrown vegetation and rusting cars; plainly it had not been used in some time.
They made their way cautiously to the door, which was large and rusted and looked like it hadn't been opened in years. Pete grabbed the handle dubiously and the door swung open smoothly. They shared surprised looks and walked in, finding themselves in a small hallway with a door at the end, guarded by a tall, leather-clad biker with a giant reddish beard that looked like it could accommodate several families.
"Who are you?" he growled. His mind glowed redly against Myka's but she couldn't hear him thinking anything; perhaps because he wasn't. He didn't look like the sharpest tool in the box.
"We're here to see Mr Valda," Myka growled back, since who they were was very clear, given their uniforms.
She's hot…
Great. Another Neanderthal.
"Well?" she demanded, as they reached the door. He looked at her uncertainly.
"Mr Valda said no-one was supposed to get in," he said, almost plaintively. He seemed to be waiting for her to resolve the problem for him.
"Is Mr Valda here?" she asked, more gently this time.
"No," he said, his face screwed up in concentration.
"Can you call him?" she suggested.
His face brightened.
"Sure, I'll call him and he can tell me if it's okay!" he said, his face brightening. Myka and Pete shared a look.
"That's a great idea, buddy," Pete said, and the dude gave him a bright smile before pulling out a cellphone and making the call, which consisted mostly of "No, Mr Valda," and "Yes, Mr Valda." He hung up the phone and pulled the door open quickly.
"Mr Valda says to go right in. He'll be here in ten minutes."
"Thank you," Myka said sweetly, and he blushed, the bright red of his complexion showing even through the beard.
They went inside and there was nothing but a huge empty space, and a woman chained to a chair in the middle of the room. Her face was bruised and bloodied, and she was unconscious. The metal chair was welded to the floor.
"Jesus," Myka hissed, walking over swiftly to walk around the woman. She didn't appear to be too badly injured other than her face. She was blonde and probably really pretty when her face wasn't swelled up beyond all recognition.
"I did that," Pete admitted quietly. "I had to knock her out to get past her and get Sally off you."
"Shit," Myka said, taking her hat off and scratching at her head distractedly. "What the hell do we do now?"
"I don't know, Mykes. It might seem harsh, but Sally was trying to kill you. And she turned your sister into a half-were. She doesn't really deserve your pity."
Myka looked at him sharply.
"You think people should be able to make their own justice, Pete? Just because they're supernatural beings?"
"No, not really. But sometimes there's nothing else you can do. Like Sykes and Diamond – you really want to have to put Helena through a trial when all she did was save your life?"
She considered that for a moment.
"No, I guess you're right. But this woman, whoever she is – she deserves a hearing, at least. We don't know what Sally told her."
Myka pinched the bridge of her nose, taking in a deep breath.
"I don't know what to do, Pete," she admitted.
"Me either," he said, gesturing helplessly.
"Perhaps I can help with that," Benedict Valda said crisply. He was well dressed in a black suit and snowy white shirt, open at the collar, with no tie.
Myka turned to greet him, shaking his hand firmly.
"Mr Valda, it's nice to see you," she said.
"And you, Sheriff. I'm pleased to see you've recovered from the unfortunate incident you were subjected to by a member of my pack. I'm so very sorry that I didn't anticipate this. Sally was on her best behaviour. Perhaps I should have expected it."
"It's not your fault, Mr Valda," Myka said, shaking her head. "Sally tried to attack me after the witches did their thing last week; we all should have seen it coming."
He tilted his head.
"You are an unusual woman, Sheriff. Very forgiving, considering that you almost died."
"Yes, well. I didn't, and I understand that you paid the doctor for looking after me."
"It was the very least I could do," Valda said, with a small bow.
"I appreciate it, Mr Valda."
"You are most welcome, Sheriff. Now, concerning this were. She attacked you and Mr Lattimer, and she has turned your sister without her consent. These are crimes punishable by death in our culture, but I understand that you are the law in this area, and I would like your input into this decision," he said, walking around the were, his hands folded behind his back. He was a rather grandiose sort of man, but Myka still liked him, despite his strange ways.
"I would like to talk to her, ideally," Myka said, her eyes narrowed. She really didn't like the idea of people being killed because of the authority of one man, whether he be a pack leader or the president. That sort of power should only rest with a court, and not even then, in her opinion. Killing a person was not the answer.
"But you were fine when it was Helena who got away with killing two someones, even if it was in your defence," her brain reminded her. She shrugged uncomfortably, her own hypocrisy not sitting well with her either.
Mr Valda was holding up the bruised woman's head and gently pouring a small amount of water into her mouth. She coughed a little and lifted her head groggily.
"What…?" she asked, her eyes widening when she took in her location and who was offering her water.
"You are here, Amanda Martin, because you attacked Mr Lattimer and the Sheriff. The Sheriff was dealt what would have been lethal wounds by Sally Stukowski, had she not been given vampire blood. I also understand that you bit the Sheriff's sister deliberately and repeatedly to cause her to become a half-were, a fact of which she is most likely completely unaware. As you know, the penalty for these actions is death in our culture. However, the Sheriff would like to know what you have to say for yourself. I will leave the determination of your fate up to her."
Amanda looked from Mr Valda to Myka in confusion, and then fear.
"You can't be serious, Mr Valda. She's evil; she murdered Marcus! She tried to kill Sally and she killed that guy that worked for her, all because they turned her down when she asked them out! And now you want to leave it up to her? I would rather just be killed outright than be tortured, sir, please!"
Myka stared at her, one eyebrow hiking up in disbelief.
"You think I did all that?"
"Yes, of course! Why on earth would I have done any of this, otherwise? Sally said you'd paid some witch from your precinct to cover it up."
Mr Valda looked at the woman severely.
"Young woman, you know that witches are neutral in any disputes between weres or anyone else, for that matter. It is very difficult, if not impossible, to find a witch who is willing to accept payment to cover anything up. Add to that the fact that the witch Sally Stukowksi has maligned is Leena Frederic."
Amanda visibly paled.
"I see you've heard that name before. And I'm sure you'll agree that Ms Frederic is about as honest as they come. Ms Stukowski, it appears, was not."
Amanda gaped at him for a long moment, her face falling.
"Why would she lie?" she whispered, shaking her head. "She said you were hurting her, that you were trying to get her fired, that you were harassing her family… I would never have done any of this, not if I thought there was a chance she was lying…"
"How long did you know Sally?" Myka asked quietly.
"Since we were kids. We grew up together," Amanda said shortly.
"I'm sorry," Myka said, her tone full of sympathy.
"She's dead?" Amanda asked, her eyes appealing to both Myka and Mr Valda for it not to be true.
Mr Valda nodded.
"She almost took the Sheriff with her. If I hadn't been able to get her to Dr Ludwig, she would either be dead or a half-were. And all because Sally Stukowski couldn't accept what Mr Diamond did. He tried to kill the Sheriff, and his friend's plan was to sexually assault her. We can only speculate on whether Mr Diamond had plans to that effect, too. In any case, I can assure you that the spell was accurate, as was the Sheriff's story. Her vampire saved her life then and last night, and it was that same vampire who killed Marcus Diamond and his human friend."
Shit the vampire the vampire they're going to…
Amanda's mind was racing, but to her credit she spoke almost as soon as the thought entered her head.
"The vampire! Her family – Sally's – they were going to burn the vamp out of her new house, in case she sleeps there. I don't know when. If what you are saying is true… you have to stop them."
Myka and Pete shared startled looks, and then Myka took off at high speed to get in the car. She didn't remember the journey afterwards. She had vague impressions of Pete calling the station and getting them to send all available units to Helena's address and to galvanise the local fire volunteers.
When they reached the tree-lined street, there was smoke coming from near the door. Myka ignored Pete's shouts to wait until the fire volunteers got there, running headlong towards the house. She reached the door in what seemed like an eternity, pulling the key from her pocket – Helena had left it with the note from that morning – and she pulled the door open. The fire was small and mercifully hadn't spread beyond the small entrance hall. Myka put her sleeve over her mouth and jumped through the flames to the other side, running for the kitchen, praying that the water had been connected. She was in luck, and she quickly located a bucket under the sink, filling it, while searching for and finding a thick, heavy blanket from the back of the sofa. She ran that under water too and sprinted back to the entryway, throwing the bucket of water first, which did virtually nothing to staunch the flames. The blanket was much more successful, dousing all but a few stray flames. A quick trip to the kitchen and a refill of the bucket and the last flames were extinguished. Myka stood still for a moment, her brain stopping in its tracks now that she had nothing else to do. Helena… she was pretty sure Helena was fine, sleeping or whatever, but she wouldn't know until tonight, would she? Helena could be sleeping somewhere else, and if the Stukowskis knew where that was, she could be burning alive right now. And Myka wouldn't know, because she didn't even know where Helena slept. It was a vampire's most closely guarded secret, she had said.
When Pete barrelled through the door, after checking the perimeter for any of Sally's family members and any more places where they might have set a fire, he found Myka sitting on the floor dumbly, cross-legged, her eyes blank. He asked if she was okay and she replied, "I'm fine," but he could tell that she was in shock. He lifted her gently to the couch in the living room and found another blanket to wrap her in before going to the kitchen and making some tea with a large slug of whisky in it. Myka took it and drank it wordlessly.
Pete called off the cavalry using his radio, and asked Steve to look after the station until sundown. He wasn't leaving the Sheriff until he was sure that her vampire was okay. They sat in silence, waiting for the sun to set, and for Helena to appear, if she was able. After a while, Myka reached out and took Pete's hand, and he squeezed hers gently, praying that Helena was okay.
When the sun finally set, after what felt like several weeks, to Pete at least, he felt rather than saw Myka's head lift suddenly, tilting as if she was listening to something.
"She's okay," she breathed, and a few seconds later, Helena herself appeared, her fangs extended and her face a picture of pure fury. Pete let go of Myka's hand unconsciously, moving away from her. Helena was at her side a second later, checking her face and hands carefully, making sure she wasn't hurt.
"You could have been killed…" she said, softly, chiding Myka. Myka stared at her.
"They were trying to kill you, Helena," she said, and the pure happiness on her face made Pete's heart fill up. He surreptitiously wiped at his eyes and coughed quietly.
"I'm gonna take off, you guys. I'm glad you're okay," he said, directing that last at Helena. She nodded at him, inclining her head slightly.
"My thanks, Deputy Lattimer, for taking care of Myka," she said. He nodded and smiled at Myka, who smiled back, coming back to herself a little now that Helena was safe. He let himself out, shaking his head a little. The Sheriff had it bad, and so did the vamp. He hoped it didn't end badly for them.
Helena was safe, and she was holding Myka in her arms, and that was pretty much all that mattered, right then. This tiny world that existed in the circle of her arms, her cool lips on Myka's forehead, and her hand stroking Myka's shoulder delicately.
"You shouldn't have tackled that fire yourself," Helena said, eventually.
"How did you know?" Myka asked, idly.
"I can only smell you and Deputy Lattimer, and he didn't smell like smoke, or at least not as much as you do. Speaking of which, I would like to remedy that, if we can."
Myka nodded. She had been thinking about that huge bath and what it would be like to share it with Helena.
"Only after you've eaten, though," she said, noting Helena's pallor. Helena nodded, slightly reluctantly.
"I don't smell that bad, do I?" Myka joked.
"No, my love. You smell wonderful. I just want to get rid of that fire smell from your body. Those animals could have hurt you – again. I am tired of this woman, Sally, and her vendetta against you. Her completely fallacious vendetta," Helena said, and Myka could tell that she was working herself up to another rant in which she wished that Sally had more lives so that she could take them from her again in the most painful way possible. Myka headed it off by kissing her gently and going to the kitchen, taking some True Blood from the fridge and heating it in one of the microwaves in the huge, spotless kitchen. She returned to the living room, sitting next to Helena and making sure she drank the whole bottle.
"So, you bought a house," she said, lightly. Helena looked at her a little uncertainly.
"I bought a house. Which reminds me, my darling. I must beg your forgiveness. You are a wonder, and I should never have treated you so roughly. I was… it is unforgiveable, I know…" she said, her eyes dropping to her feet.
Myka lifted her chin and kissed her fervently, pouring all of her happiness and love into it, almost climbing into Helena's lap. She sat back after a long moment, and Helena stared at her.
"Does that convince you that you have nothing to apologise for?" she asked, archly.
"Myka, I… I practically assaulted you. I know that I hurt you, and we've never talked about where I can bite you. I let myself get out of control, and you are no fang banger, Myka Bering. I should have treated you with more respect," she said, her face still a picture of shame.
"And if I enjoyed it? What then?" Myka asked, her face calm.
"You… I appreciate the attempt to lie, Myka, but I know what I am. A monster," Helena said, her face twisting on the last word.
"Helena, you are not a monster. You are beautiful, and occasionally very scary, but you are not a monster. I loved every minute of last night, and I… if I'd known how much you were holding back, I would have done something earlier. I knew that you were angry last night, and I decided to goad you a little, to try to turn your anger into something else. And it worked. I had an amazing time last night, Helena, and I don't want you to hold back out of fear that I will think you're a monster. You are what you are, and I want you as you are," Myka said, her voice passionate and her eyes steady on Helena's. Sometimes she wished her gift could work the other way, that she could transmit her thoughts as well as receive other people's. (Not often, but sometimes.)
"You mean that, don't you?" Helena asked, only it wasn't quite a question. It was a stunned realisation, and she turned away from Myka after a moment.
"What's wrong, Helena?" Myka asked.
"Nothing, darling," Helena said, still not looking at her. Myka sat forward and turned Helena's head towards her, seeing twin bloody trails on her face. She was crying.
"Why are you crying?" Myka asked gently, searching her pockets for a tissue to wipe away the bloody tears. She wiped them delicately, and Helena closed her eyes, more tears oozing from behind her closed eyelids.
"It's okay, Helena," Myka said soothingly, drawing Helena closer to her and holding the vampire's surprisingly small body to her own. It was always a surprise to realise what size Helena really was; she was thin and a little shorter than Myka, and if she hadn't been able to crush granite with her fingers she might have been described as almost frail.
After a few minutes, Helena pulled back and took the tissue from Myka, wiping her eyes again.
"I'm sorry, darling, to be so emotional. I'm afraid after almost losing you yesterday I was feeling rather out of control, and I thought that I had frightened you away, with my behaviour. I have never expected a human to understand or accept me. They have always been a means to an end, until you. And I never expected you to understand, any of this, if I am perfectly truthful about it. I expected you to run as soon as I showed you where I died and told you about Christina," she sniffed, wiping at her eyes again impatiently.
"Well, you underestimated me, Wells. I'm not exactly the most normal myself, you may have noticed. I try to give everyone a fair hearing in life, and nothing you've done or told me about makes me think you're a monster, Helena."
She felt silly, doing it, but she kissed Helena's hand gently. She thought it might drive home her meaning more than an actual kiss.
"I… thank you, Myka," Helena breathed, her eyes locked on Myka's. "You truly are an extraordinary human."
After that emotional moment, they spent a quiet evening together. Helena insisted that Myka eat, as she too was looking rather pale. She had Chinese takeout, with Helena watching her, looking faintly nauseated at the garlic in the food. Myka laughed at her and told her that no way was she giving up garlic for Helena or anyone else. They had a long bath together in the huge bathroom, and Myka spent a fun half hour testing out all the lights and different jets in the very expensive bathtub. They got into bed after that, and Helena amused Myka by demonstrating the television's many features, including Netflix, Amazon and YouTube. They watched stupid cat videos before turning on a couple of episodes in a row of some television show that Helena enjoyed about a con man who was press-ganged into working for the FBI. Myka tried to stay awake, but the day had worn on her, and after a few attempts to hide her yawns, Helena pulled Myka into her arms and told her to sleep. As Myka drifted off, she could have sworn that she heard Helena say, "I love you."
The following day, Helena was gone as usual when she woke, but she didn't leave any notes, just a spare uniform and underwear and socks, along with the key to Myka's cruiser – the cruiser that she'd left at the station the day before, as far as she could remember. She wondered idly how Helena managed to do these things without being seen, but dismissed the idea, thinking about how fast vampires could move. In any case, she was grateful not to have to do the walk of shame home in yesterday's smoky, soiled uniform.
When she arrived at the station, everything was quiet. Claudia saluted her in a rather mocking fashion, as was her usual habit, and Myka ignored it, as was her usual habit, rather than telling the girl off for insubordination. There was coffee on her desk as usual, and she took a long drink before looking through her messages.
There were a number relating to recent cases, including the DA's office upstate asking for evidence, and a few annoying queries about what she was doing about all the wild animal sightings in the area. She made a mental note to speak to Benedict Valda about that when she saw him next. She also made a note to check what had happened to the were, Amanda, since Myka and Pete had seen her yesterday.
She needn't have worried, because Pete popped his head in two minutes later.
"Hey boss – I got a call from Valda this morning. He wants to know what you want to do with Amanda. You okay to take a drive out there?"
She looked up at him and nodded.
"Sure, Pete. Let's go."
When they were in the car – she drove this time – she took a deep breath before talking to him.
"First of all, thank you for yesterday, Pete. What you did – sitting with me? I really appreciate it. You weren't even supposed to be on shift, and I know you came in here last night straight from there. So thank you."
He nodded.
"Anytime, Myka."
"And second, what do you think I should do about Amanda? She bit Tracy, and maybe Sally would have killed me if she'd been able to hold onto you for long enough – but she also might have saved Helena's life, and I don't think she deserves to die. So, what would you do?" she asked, swerving widely to avoid hitting some unidentifiable animal that was shuffling across the road.
He furrowed his brow, and she could hear him thinking, so she tried to block him out, finding it slightly harder than the day before. She reinforced her guards by singing a tuneless rendition of "Brown girl in the ring," inside her head. It sucked that she couldn't sing, not even in her own brain. After a moment, Pete spoke.
"I don't know, Myka. She did some shitty stuff, that's for sure. Biting your sister – I mean, why would you do that to someone who isn't even involved? But she trusted her friend, and it seems like she had no idea that Sally was that crazy. I don't know about you, but I believe her."
She smiled at him wryly.
"It's true, Pete. She had no idea."
"Oh yeah," he said, laughing at himself. "I forgot all about that!"
"So, what would you do, then?" she repeated, trying to get him back on track.
"I think I'd see if Valda will let her go, as long as somebody watches her for a while, makes sure she doesn't try to do anything else to hurt you."
"I think that's fair," she said, nodding. The only other option was to drag her to the station and charge her with crimes so outlandish that no-one would believe them until they saw her change at the next full moon. And it wasn't Myka's job to force the supernatural community out of the closet; that had to be their decision, not hers.
When they arrived at the Warehouse, a car was already parked there, presumably Valda's. The same tall were was standing by the door, and he smiled shyly at Myka before pulling the door open to let them through.
Valda was standing next to Amanda, talking to her politely, and he looked round and they entered.
"Good morning, Sheriff, Deputy," he said, nodding at them both in turn.
"Good morning, Mr Valda," Myka said, nodding her head politely.
"Have you come to any decisions, Sheriff?" he asked, getting right to the point. "I understand that Ms Wells was not harmed, despite the actions of Ms Stukowski's family, who are now under guard, I might add. They pose no further threat to you, I personally guarantee it," he said, bowing slightly.
"If you're guaranteeing that, I know I have nothing to worry about," she said, nodding in acknowledgement. "I was hoping that perhaps you would consider setting Amanda free. She did some bad things, things that will have lifelong repercussions, but I can't see how killing her will make matters any better. Perhaps you could set someone to supervise her for a while, to make sure she doesn't have any ill intention towards me or anyone else?" she suggested, lifting an eyebrow slightly.
"I hesitate to set her free, Madam Sheriff. She has broken many of our unwritten laws, especially in turning someone without their consent or knowledge."
"Well then, why not make her explain it to the person she hurt?" Pete suggested, out of the blue. "Myka is planning to take a trip to see her sister and explain things, but who better to teach her about being a were than the person who turned her?"
Mr Valda tilted his head thoughtfully, thinking about Pete's suggestion. It seemed to be a habit of his when he found something worthy of further thought.
"I think that sounds like a very worthwhile mission for Miss Martin, if she can be trusted to undertake it and not run away from her responsibilities," he said, turning to look at Amanda, who was watching them dully, her bruised face making her bright blue eyes look even brighter.
"I… why would you do that, Sheriff?" she asked bluntly.
"Do what?" Myka asked, confused.
"Why would you ask Mr Valda to let me go? After what I did? I could have caused your death, and I turned your sister into a half-were. I knew I shouldn't have done it, but I did it anyway. I don't deserve your mercy."
"Does anyone, ever? Deserve it, I mean?" Myka asked curiously.
Amanda shrugged, her movements hampered by being tied to the chair.
"You would really let me go?" she asked again.
"Yes. What else should I do? You bit my sister while in your panther form. If I arrest you for that, the judge will laugh in my face when I take you into court. If I tell them you attacked me, I'll have to say I was healed by vampire blood, and bring my whole personal life out into the open, not to mention the supernatural community. Apparently the way weres deal with these things is to kill the person who did them. I think that's a waste. If he lets you go, can I trust you not to come after me again?" Myka asked, looking the beaten woman right in the eyes.
"I swear to you, Sheriff. I will never harm you and I will do everything in my power to make up for what I've done."
Her thoughts echoed her words, and after a moment, Myka nodded.
"Okay. Mr Valda, I'm happy for you to let her go, with whatever sort of constraints you want to put on her. As far as I'm concerned, she's free to go, although I would appreciate her assistance in explaining to my sister, who I don't even know, by the way, that she's going to turn into some sort of half-beast at the full moon," Myka said, nodding at Mr Valda.
"As you wish, Sheriff. Would you consent to keep an eye on this woman, Deputy Lattimer? I think you are probably the most appropriate person, in the circumstances."
Pete nodded seriously, and Mr Valda fished around in his suit pocket, coming up with a key with which he unlocked Amanda's chains. She stood slowly, flexing her arms and legs, and as she did so, Myka heard Pete's thoughts explode.
Jesus look at those arms that girl is built…Oh holy shit her boobs are HUGE…
At which point Myka started singing "Brown girl in the ring," tunelessly in her head, concentrating hard on the lyrics and her own tuneless rendition. If life was fair, she thought idly, she'd at least sound like Beyoncé or someone in her own head, right?
"Sheriff, I would like to apologise once more for all you've been through. Our pack is in your debt. I am naming you a friend of the pack, which means that should you ever need assistance, we are at your beck and call. If you have any trouble with this one, or with any other matter, please give me a call."
He handed her a card and shook her hand once again before shooting a warning look at Amanda and giving Pete a solemn nod. He walked out and the were at the door opened and closed it behind him.
"Are you sure about this, Pete?" Myka murmured, close to his ear.
"No point in trying to be quiet, Mykes. We're all weres here," he said, wryly.
She sighed.
"Well, are you?" she asked, in a normal tone of voice. "Remember, I can hear things, like those things that a person says in their head that are usually private?"
He reddened.
"Yes Ma'am, it's fine," he said, clearing his throat as he caught her meaning.
"Is she going to stay with you? What's the plan here?" she asked, looking from Pete to Amanda.
"I have an apartment," Amanda said, making an effort not to be sullen, it appeared. Myka understood perfectly. If her face was all puffed up like that she would be sullen too.
Pete looked at Myka.
"I think she can stay in her apartment if she promises not to get up to anything. You okay with that, boss?" he asked, chewing on a toothpick once again.
"Fine," Myka said shortly, nodding at Amanda, who nodded back.
"I can't believe they're setting me free. I thought I was dead for sure."
Myka looked at her for a long moment.
"Don't waste this, Amanda. You have a chance to make up for the stupid stuff you've done. It's only because of vampire blood that you're not being charged as an accessory to murder. And god only knows, there will be some sort of a price for me to pay for drinking vampire blood – there's always a price. So just… go, do whatever you do, and when it's time to go to Colorado and see Tracy we'll come to get you."
"Yes, Ma'am," Amanda said, her back straightening in a very familiar way. More military, huh? Myka tried not to listen to the tone of Pete's thoughts regarding the way the were's chest looked when she stood at attention like that.
"At ease, soldier," Myka said wryly. "Come on, I need to get some damn work done today."
Pete was silent on the way back, and since Myka could hear exactly why – his thoughts were filled with Amanda, images of her flitting through his brain – she said nothing, either. She did have to take steps, however, to tune him out. It was embarrassing to share someone else's thoughts on such an intimate matter as sexual attraction. She chose a new song to sing in her head, this time - Rasputin. Why Boney M was working, she didn't know, but she wasn't going to argue with success.
They dropped Amanda at her apartment on the way back to the station, and Pete headed home since he was taking the night shift again. Myka was soon immersed in the paperwork involved in making a missing persons report. She spoke to Walter Sykes' mother, who he had indeed lived with, and the woman sounded more annoyed at his disappearance than upset. She filled in the forms dutifully and filed them in triplicate. She felt grimy and wrong the whole time. Other than the few times she'd read people's minds for her foster father, this was the first time in her life that she could say she'd truly done something dishonest on purpose, and it didn't feel good at all.
She called Arthur Nielsen later that day, and he answered the phone, sounding more grumpy than usual.
"Mr Nielsen, it's Myka Bering. I was wondering if I could come see you this evening."
"Yes, yes. Whatever. Perhaps you can explain to me what happened to my assistant, Sheriff?" he said grumpily before hanging up on her.
She sighed and went back to work.
Late that afternoon she drove to Arthur Nielsen's office, helping herself to coffee in the waiting room and making some for him before knocking on the door. He called her in and she went to sit down.
"So, Sally's dead?" he said. It wasn't really a question. She wondered how he managed to read her the way he did. She could only hear what people were thinking at the time; maybe his ability was different because he wasn't human.
"Yes," she said, both sad and annoyed. It didn't have to happen that way.
"She almost killed you." This was more of a mutter to himself.
"And now you can hear much more clearly. And you need help in blocking thoughts out, until the vampire blood is absorbed. Some of it will stay, though. The extra strength, the mental powers, if you have a blood bond with the vampire," he said thoughtfully.
"A what now?" she asked.
"A blood bond. You are sharing blood with the vampire, and she has shared hers with you. Twice?"
"Yes," she said. "We were meant to talk about it last night, but some other stuff came up. What does it mean?"
He scratched at his moustache thoughtfully.
"As far as I understand it, if you exchange blood with a vampire three times, it creates a sort of bond. Empathically. Similar to how a vampire sire and child are bonded. It can go wrong – sometimes it ends up with the vampire accidentally siring the human. But when it doesn't, the pair feel safer and happier when they are together, due to the bond. And they can sense one another's emotional states. It can be intense, I believe," he said, taking off his glasses and polishing them.
"Okay," Myka said carefully. "I wonder why… Helena seemed worried about it. it doesn't sound so bad."
"Yes I suppose it doesn't, when things are fine between you. But if you break up? What then? You will still feel safe and happy when she is there, even if you aren't together. And then there's the possibility of you accidentally turning into a bloodsucking vampire!" he retorted, glaring at her.
"I'll talk to her tonight," Myka promised, recoiling slightly from his fierceness.
"Very well. Now, as to your telepathy. Since you have once again imbibed vampire blood, you will just have to put up with a certain amount of noise from those around you. But you seem to have developed a primitive sort of shield in the meantime. What have you been doing?" he asked, looking genuinely curious.
"Singing," she said, ruefully. She blushed a little.
"Not out loud, I hope," he chuckled, obviously able to tell from her mind that she was tone-deaf.
"No, just inside my head," she said. "The more annoying, the better," she said, and he chuckled again, more heartily this time.
"Boney M? I haven't heard them since 1973…" he said.
"My mom was a fan," Myka said dryly, and then frowned. She had no earthly idea how she was going to go about dealing with the shitstorm that was her biological family.
"That one, I can't help you with," Arthur said, softly. "But as to your mental shields – I can show you how to build them, to make them last, so that you can only hear what you want to hear, when you want to hear it."
He leaned over the desk, holding out his hands, and she took them. What followed was difficult for her to process. It was a series of impressions, feelings, more than it was words or pictures. But once he was done she had a foundation with shields built on it.
"You will have to add to those shields, to power them with your own determination, but eventually they will become second nature, Sheriff. You will be able to block people out – most of the time. Except when you yourself are emotional, tired, or… during intimacy. But that shouldn't be a problem, at least while you are with the vampire."
She nodded, and smiled at him gratefully. The shields were humming in a comforting way, cancelling out the noise from outside her brain. It was…well, she could feel the energy the shields themselves were using, but compared to the cost of dealing with the constant onslaught of other people's pain? It was nothing.
"Thank you, Artie," she said, relieved. He gave her some more instructions on how to keep the shields up and feed them energy, and she headed home feeling hopeful about the future for the first time in a long time.