Emergency vehicles crowded haphazardly around her apartment building. Her first thought was fire. Then a horrible premonition hit her, crushing out rational thought. She started to run, shoving through the onlookers. A uniformed officer grabbed for her arm, but she pulled away.
“Miss, you can’t go over there! This is a crime scene.”
Ari saw cops near the front steps and a mound of rumpled clothing.
She heard calls for her to stop. Ryan stood near the entrance door. He heard the commotion and turned to intercept her. Ari tried to push past, but Ryan grabbed both arms and held on.
“No, Ari. You don’t want to see this.”
She looked at his face, a sudden rush of fear constricting her throat. “Yana?”
Ryan’s face was ashen.
Anguish punched her in the gut. “No! Oh, please, no!” She struggled to get loose, and another cop came to assist Ryan. Her self-defense training must have kicked in, as she delivered sharp blows to bodies and shins until she broke free. Scrambling away, she dodged the reaching hands of the evidence techs.
By the time Ryan reached Ari again, she had Yana’s body clutched in her arms, rocking back and forth. Two cops tugged on Ari’s arms in an attempt to remove her from the crime scene, but Ryan waved them off.
A strange keening sound penetrated Ari’s pain. When she realized it was coming from her, she made an effort to stop. Ryan squatted by her side. He was talking to her, but somehow she couldn’t comprehend his words. The world was a red haze, confined to Ari and Yana swaying back and forth. And the metallic smell of blood. Everywhere.
After a while, Ryan pried her fingers loose. When she didn’t resist, he pulled her to her feet, and others moved in to place Yana on a gurney. Ari rode with the body on the way to the morgue. She spoke only once, her voice lifeless, saying she’d wait for the family.
As she sat by her mentor’s body, Ari stared at the savage, gaping wounds. She didn’t need an evidence lab to tell her what happened outside her apartment. Yana had been ambushed—attacked and mutilated by werewolves. The Canadian pack had come looking for Ari, found Yana instead, and left a terrible message. Ari should be the body on the slab.
Ryan returned to his investigation as soon as Claris and Brando arrived to sit with her. After awhile Ari sent them home, promising to join them soon. She needed to be alone, needed to get her head wrapped around this.
Another hour passed before the clan arrived. An hour in which images floated through Ari’s head in a continuing slide show. Yana and Great-Gran. Yana and eight-year-old Ari having tea. Yana in her garden, walking through the woods, appearing before the Magic Council in her white uniform, calming a drunken dwarf. A million pictures, but Ari wanted a million more. Yana had been an anchor in her life as long as Ari could remember. She couldn’t imagine a world without her.
Yana’s wood nymph family took her body home to be prepared for burial. Tonight was for them alone; tomorrow, a small number of close friends would witness Yana’s return to the earth. Ari faced a long night ahead with nothing more to do, except think.
She wandered out the morgue doors and crossed the hospital parking lot. As she approached the grove of trees at the end, Andreas stepped into the streetlight.
At first, Ari just looked at him. “Why are you here?” she asked, her voice flat.
The vampire hesitated, seemed uncertain, and Ari cut off his explanation. “Let me guess, before you start making up some excuse. Ryan called you. And the two of you decided I need protection from the bad guys. He’s busy with the…investigation.” Ari couldn’t yet say the word murder. “So you got guard duty.”
“Something like that. Why else?” he agreed levelly, watching her face.
“I wish they would come after me. Settle this now. Here, tonight.”
“Not the time, Arianna. You are not yourself. Perhaps an escort is warranted, under the circumstances.”
And Ryan sent a vampire, instead of a cop? Or had Andreas volunteered? Ari tilted her head and thought about it. Her magic stirred and, without conscious effort on her part, reached out to touch his. Finding strength, even reassurance. She raised questioning eyes to meet his.
“I am sorry, little witch.”
The simple words breached the last of Ari’s defenses. She moved toward him, Andreas opened his arms and wrapped her inside. She sighed against his chest, safe, secure, for the first time in hours. Not needing to be the strong one for a while. And then the tears came. The grief bottled inside poured down her face. They stood like that for a long time.
Eventually, Ari started talking about what happened, about her love for Yana. Andreas listened without comment to her emotional freefall. Then they walked. Ari didn’t pay much attention to the route, but along the way they stopped at Yana’s home to get Hernando. Near dawn, Andreas left her outside Claris’s door. Ari hugged her best friend, handed her the cat, and fell into an exhausted sleep.
* * *Yana’s cleansed body was wrapped in layers of white lace. Following wood nymph tradition, the clan carried her through the woods to a site chosen in secret and prepared during the night. Claris and Ari were among a small band that walked with the family. They were barefoot, and the ground under Ari’s toes was hard and cool. A young wood nymph male followed the procession sweeping a branch of pine needles across the ground to obliterate their passing; he’d also follow them out. Claris cried softly, but Ari’s eyes were dry. She’d run out of tears, leaving only an overwhelming emptiness. The family sang quietly in an ancient tongue, rejoicing for the time they had her spirit with them, grieving now that she was gone.
When the procession reached the gravesite, each mourner dropped white flower petals into the grave and the body was lowered. As it disappeared from view, Ari had a sudden urge to snatch her back. Then the moment was gone, and more petals dropped into the grave. The nymphs’ song was different now, comforting, like a mother’s lullaby to a sleeping child.
The first dirt was spread by Yana’s father, the closest relative. The others followed his lead. The smell of moist earth and the fragrance of the lilies drifted around Ari as the dirt trickled through her fingers. Yana’s clan finished covering the grave. Once the service was complete, branches, dried leaves and pine needles were scattered over the site until the new grave was invisible. The nymphs would not visit again. They had returned Yana to the woods.
* * *
Ari spent two days holed up in her apartment, alone in her grief and with her guilt. Guilt that she hadn’t come home sooner that day, that she hadn’t been there when Yana needed her. That she hadn’t saved her friend—or died instead.
Claris and Brando tried to talk with her; Ryan left a message each day. She didn’t answer them. She knew her friends were worried, but she didn’t have the strength to reassure them. Andreas, an unexpected and curious source of comfort that first night, was giving her space. He had good instincts.
On the third day, Ari went back to work. She wasn’t over the loss. She might never put it behind her, but she was ready to hunt down Yana’s killers.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The bell jingled over the shop door, and Ari paused in the doorway. Claris let out a squeal, rushing to grab her in a tight hug.
“I am so glad to see you. Coffee’s made,” Claris said, releasing her hold and searching Ari’s drawn face.
“How’s the cat?”
“He’s adjusting, but he misses her. He sits in the greenhouse and watches the birds from the kitchen window. He doesn’t come up front much.”
Ari ducked into the back room. Claris frowned, watching her, but Ari was glad her friend didn’t follow. Hernando lay curled in the sunny window. He lifted his head, considered Ari with listless eyes, then tucked his head back under his tail. She patted his head.
“Buck up, old fellow. We’ll make it.”
When Ari carried two mugs of coffee into the shop, Claris was helping a customer. Ari pulled up a stool and looked around, sniffed the fragrant herbs. It was all so familiar. She’d been here often enough; it was like a second home. Yet today it felt different. Then again, maybe it was Ari that was different.
The sound of the front door closing as the customer left nudged her attention, and Ari shifted her gaze to Claris. The puckered brow said her best friend was still worried.
“How are you…really?” Claris asked, perching on another of the tall stools behind the counter.
Ari handed her a mug of coffee. “I’m angry.” Her voice was flat, emotionless.
“You don’t sound angry.”
“When I’m not angry, I don’t feel anything.”
“It’s part of the process, I suppose. My mood’s all over the place. Sometimes I feel fine for a while, then I remember. I know we’ll get better.”
“I don’t want to get better. That’s the problem.” Ari didn’t bother to hide the confusion she felt. “I want to stay angry. Need the anger. I’m going to find them and kill them.” Ari looked at her friend’s shocked face. “Does that make me as bad as they are?”
Claris reached out a hand and grabbed Ari’s fingers. “No, not at all. There’s nothing wrong with feeling angry, or even hating them. It’s what you do with it. You’re one of the good guys, honey. You know—white hat, white horse.” She gave Ari a soft smile. “You’ll do the right thing.”
“Will I? I’m not sure I know what that is.”
“You will.” Claris slid off the stool when the shop bell tinkled again. “You’ll figure it out.” Claris turned her attention to the customer; Ari took the empty mugs to the kitchen.
She stopped just inside the kitchen to lean against the wall. This was the first time she and Claris had been seriously out of step. Claris didn’t get it. Ari didn’t want to be a white hat, the good guy. Or the one who did the right thing. She wanted vengeance. Her friend’s words only made her feel more alone.
Hernando chose that moment to bump against her leg. Perfect timing? Cats have a way with that. Ari picked him up, cuddling his soft fur against her cheek. He rewarded her with a rhythmic purr. She wished she could take him home, but with her hours, Hernando would lead a lonely life. At the shop he was surrounded by company. Besides, he fit the cozy atmosphere.