Friday
It's well past midnight when Frey leaves. I feel a little guilty about asking him to go home after hours of lovemaking that, with and without feeding, was nothing short of miraculous. But I know that the day ahead will be full and I want at least a few uninterrupted hours of sleep.
It's blessed, restorative sleep. None of the anxiety that's plagued me the last few days. Only when I open my eyes and remember what happened with Frey does it hit.
Not once last night did I think of Max.
It was the same when I was with Avery.
The realization wipes away doubt and clarifies what I must have suspected all along.
I must end it with Max. Frey was right when he said feeding would release me. It did. It released my mind. The sex released my body. I needed both. If Max had been here, it wouldn't have been the same.
I busy myself around the apartment waiting for the clock to read 9:00 am - the time the DNA lab opens - throwing clothes in boxes for the move back into the cottage. The kitchen things take less time to pack. I have only the bare essentials - coffeepot, a few mugs, flatware. Pots and pans have become an unnecessary encumbrance. The furniture came with the apartment. In two hours, I'm finished.
Williams calls at 8:45, just as I'm on my way out the door.
"How are you?" he asks.
"Busy," I respond. "I was just leaving, but I'm glad you called. You sent Frey to see me last night, didn't you?"
"Yes."
No hesitation, no apology or explanation. Not that I needed any.
"An object lesson?"
"Yes."
I blow out a breath. "Well, the point is taken. I'll call you next week. We can talk then, all right?"
"Good luck today," he says then.
"Thanks. Williams, what has Trish's grandmother been up to the last couple of days, do you know?"
He is quiet for a moment. "I talked with her last night. The mayor wanted me to fill her in on what happened. She almost seemed disappointed to find out Trish was a victim. And she certainly wasn't happy to hear what Carolyn had done to her. I don't think she'll give your parents any trouble as far as custody is concerned. In fact, I'd say she wants to distance herself as far away from Trish as she can. Having a daughter who pimped out her own child to pornographers won't sit well with her country club friends back home."
"If it gets out."
He chuckles. "I sort of implied it would most certainly make her hometown papers if she gave your parents any trouble."
"She accepted that?"
"She had no choice. If I was to guess, I'd bet Mrs. Joseph Bernard is on a jet home as we speak."
Relief washes over me. I ring off with the promise that I'll call Williams midweek. I want a few days to see that Trish is settled, get the cottage in order, and reconnect with David.
David.
Another loose mortal end. Can I continue my business relationship with him? A decision I may not have to make. He may not want me to.
David is seated at his side of the desk when I walk in. He looks up and though I expect a frown, he actually smiles.
"Hey, stranger. I read about what happened in the paper. Quite a story. Is Trish all right?"
I'm so grateful for not being greeted with vitriol that I have to restrain myself from throwing my arms around his neck. "She's with my folks. I just came from the house."
I toss the envelope from the clinic on the desk and head for the coffeepot.
He glances at the envelope then up at me. "How is that going?"
I bring a cup of coffee back to the desk and sink wearily into my chair. "You should see the three of them. It's like they've known each other for years. Trish is confused, of course. She has a lot of questions. But I've never seen my parents happier. You can almost feel..." My voice falters, breaks off.
David frowns. "Then why the long face?"
I pick at the envelope and instantly he understands.
"Those are the DNA results. She isn't Steve's."
I raise my eyes to meet his. "I wanted Trish to be Steve's more than I've wanted anything in my life."
David leans back, pushing away the papers he had spread before him. "What will happen to her now?"
"I don't know. I doubt her grandmother wants her. Foster care, I guess. Adoption. Jesus. I don't know."
"But your parents want her, right? And they'd be the best family she could ever have. They'll love her. What's more important?" David picks up the envelope. "You didn't tell them?"
I shake my head.
He carries it over to our file cabinet. He pushes folders to the back, shoves the envelope to the bottom of the drawer, and rearranges the files to cover it.
"Your parents are the best thing that could happen to that kid. If there's any medical reason to make this report known later, it's right here. Otherwise, just because you know doesn't mean anyone else has to."
I remember how Trish looked with my parents. How I felt the energy of hearts mending. It's why I couldn't bring myself to share the DNA results. I couldn't bear to break the bond.
And just like that, Sorrel's words are in my head. It's in the blood.
Love.
Nothing matters more. She hadn't made a mistake.
I had.
I meet David's eyes. So calm, so sure. He saw it before I did.
Trish and my parents will take care of each other.
I will pursue what I must.
It's so clear. David doesn't understand, of course. He sees only the obvious. But I am vampire, after all, and my entire relationship to humans is based on lies.
This will be just one more.