Depths: Southern Watch #2 (35 page)

But he saw it, the flash of it, for the half second of existence it had. Saw it and recorded it in his mind for later. He knew that emotion. He’d felt it himself only a few minutes earlier when he watched Duncan go flying off the top of the dam.

Rage. Pure, hate-filled rage.

* * *

“This is a beautiful denouement,” Hendricks heard Lerner say as he broke off his kiss with Erin. Her lips were soft, and moist. He was still dripping wet and could feel it as he stood there, his clothing absolutely soaked under the weight of his coat. His sword was on the ground where he’d let go of it when he got thrown out of the water, and he stooped to pick it up and sheathe it. “But I need to go check and see if my partner survived his plunge off the dam,” Lerner finished. “Adios.” The demon sketched a rough salute to them and started off toward the sedan.

“You owe me a mirror,” Erin said. She didn’t sound angry, more weary. She was still clutching an M-16 in her hands. It took him a second of staring at it to realize it was probably an AR-15. Cops didn’t carry M-16s.

“Bill me for it,” Lerner tossed over his shoulder without looking back. He stooped to pick up a black gym bag that was still resting on the surface of the dam, two or three inches of water running around it. It didn’t so much as move until he picked it up. “Better yet, bill your boyfriend,” Lerner went on, holding the gym bag in his hand like it weighed nothing. “I did just save his life, after all.” Lerner got into the car without once looking up and backed up off the dam in the sedan with a little more speed than Hendricks would have thought safe given the location.

Hendricks looked at Arch, who was still standing there, shirtless, the rain coming down around them. He met the cop’s gaze, and neither one of them said anything for a minute. “Need a ride home?” Arch asked him, finally.

Hendricks thought about that for a minute then looked at Erin. There was something in her eyes that told him what he needed to know. “Nah, I think I’ve got that covered,” he told Arch.

“Shit,” Erin said, snapping her fingers. She let the rifle in her hands sag. “I’m supposed to drop Lucia—I mean Starling—off at the station.”

Something about that prickled at Hendricks. He looked around the surface of the dam. “Hey, wasn’t Starling here just a minute ago …?”

“Son of a bitch,” Erin said. Hendricks agreed with part of that assessment, anyway. The dam was empty from side to side, except for the three of them. Hendricks peered at Erin’s patrol car, parked just a little closer than Arch’s cruiser. It looked empty. “Man,” Erin said, “Reeve is gonna have my ass for this.”

“Why?” Hendricks asked, frowning. “What does the sheriff have to do with Starling?”

He could see the pained look on Erin’s face. “That’s … kind of a long story.”

“Tell me on the way home?” Hendricks asked, and felt her wrap an arm around his waist. He put his around her shoulders and they started back along the dam, side by side. The rain had slackened, finally.

“Yours or mine?” she asked. And he didn’t have an answer for her. Not right away.

* * *

Lerner made his way back down the winding hill road almost as fast as he’d made his way up. This time, he didn’t even have a cop in pursuit; something more important was at stake. The shift of the car’s transmission as he revved up and down bothered him not at all. He almost tuned it out as he raced around tight corners and taxed his wet tires well past the point he knew he should have.

He knew he was home free when he hit the last straightaway, knew that the guardhouse was ahead less than a mile. The Caledonia River was running to his left, the source up over the dam somewhere ahead of him. He kept one eye on the road and one on the water as he drove like mad.

It was the eye on the road that eventually found him. Lerner hit the brakes as he approached, squealing the sedan to a stop and jamming the PRNDL switch into park without bothering to even pull his keys out of the ignition. He had the door open and was half out of it when the naked figure rushed in front of his headlights and opened the passenger door, sliding into the front seat.

“You scared me almost worse than hell,” Lerner said as he got back in the car.

“Occupational hazard,” Duncan said. He looked like he was shivering, but he wasn’t. He was shaking. “We won, of course.” It wasn’t even a question.

“Yes.
We
did,” Lerner agreed, and put the car in reverse. He turned around so he didn’t accidentally back into a pine tree while he pulled the car about. He liked that Duncan didn’t ask what he meant about the we thing. “The redhead came back.”

“Did she?” Duncan asked. Lerner could see the puzzlement. It was just barely there under Duncan’s almost inscrutable expression. “I didn’t … I couldn’t see her there. When I looked.”

“I figured you wouldn’t,” Lerner said, nodding to himself. He was driving slowly, now. Crisis passed. He took a breath and let it out. “When she was the hooker coming out of the whorehouse, her eyes were normal, some human color, and you could read her, right?” He didn’t need to wait for Duncan’s nod, but he did. “The same girl shows up on the dam, her eyes are some dusky hue I can’t place, she looks … just different and feels off—and you can’t feel her at all.” He smiled and looked at Duncan. “You ever heard of anything like that before?”

Duncan didn’t answer at first. That was a bad sign, Lerner thought. “Maybe,” he said finally. “But … it’s been a long time.”

“I was thinking it had to be something old or something new,” Lerner said, still nodding.

“Real old,” Duncan said. He paused. “You know, if those humans hadn’t been there—”

“Don’t …” Lerner said. “Just don’t. We’re OOCs. We don’t do team-ups.”

“You know we’re here for the duration,” Duncan said, and Lerner heard a little hint of something. Emotion. “Till the hotspot goes.”

“I know.”

“There could be worse things than having—”

“If you say ‘friends,’ I will kick your naked ass right out of this car and make you walk back to town,” Lerner said.

Duncan didn’t say anything for a moment. “I was going to say allies.” He let that hang for a minute, but Lerner didn’t reply. “That suit was one of my favorites,” Duncan said. Now he sounded like he was whining. As much as Duncan ever did, anyway.

“It was ugly,” Lerner said, and caught the faintly—very faintly—scandalized look from Duncan. “You’re right, of course. Not about the suit. But we’re gonna be here for a while. Maybe we play nice.” He didn’t smile. “They’ve got an in on some power—some thing—that we can’t place, with that redhead. That’s worth keeping an eye on, wouldn’t you say?”

Duncan didn’t say—at first. Finally, “We should definitely keep watch.” Lerner couldn’t disagree with that.

* * *

Erin pulled the cruiser into the parking spot in front of Hendricks’s motel room. They sat there for a minute in silence. They’d talked, on and off, on the drive down from the dam. Erin wasn’t sure she understood the whole demon thing, really, but Hendricks had shed a little light. Basic stuff. Every question she asked left them in silence, though, for a few minutes while she processed the answer and honed in one which was the next best question to ask.

She hadn’t run out of them, that was sure.

The hot air was blowing out of the car’s vents, and they were both still soaked. The sheriff’s cloth seats were drenched, and Erin had a suspicion that it was liable to leave a mildewed stink once it dried that would be just as obvious as the missing mirror. The hot air blowing out of the vents helped a little, though they both still shivered occasionally as they sat there in the parking lot.

“You want to come in?” Hendricks asked. Tentatively, like he wasn’t sure.

What the hell did he think she would say to that? He wasn’t married, he wasn’t crazy, and her head was swirling like a martini someone had just spun a swizzle stick in. Plus he was some kind of big fucking hero demon slayer who’d damned near gotten himself killed to save the whole town. She wasn’t sure what the proper protocol even was in this situation; whether she should run screaming away from him or just throw her panties at him. “Sure,” she said.

They got out of the car and drifted toward the door. At least the rain had stopped, though every step caused another ripple in the giant puddle that was the parking lot of the Sinbad motel.

He paused at the door and rummaged in his pocket before producing the key—along with a handful of water. “Guess I’m lucky I didn’t lose this,” he said.

“Guess so.” She tried to laugh, but it was a halfhearted effort at best. She stared at him. He was a hero. Saw Arch go down and just charged right at the demon knowing that it could turn him to ash. She wanted to say something of that sort to him, but he was fumbling with the keys, and she didn’t know how to say it.

So she kissed him. Long, slow. Her hand ended up on his chest, she felt the muscles under his wet shirt. She knew she was past running away, even as fucked up as things had gotten, and she wanted to throw her panties at him but something—some damned something—was holding her back, so she just kissed him until he broke it off.

She tried to go in on him again, could hear the door squeak on its hinges. She caught his lips and felt him press back, but only for a moment before he broke away again. She grasped his shirt in her hand, squeezing it and trying to pull him close but he stopped her. “Wait.”

She caught her breath as she paused, lips inches from his. This was what she wanted, right? He was good at it, they had fun together. She’d seen what he’d done, who he was, right? This was what was supposed to happen next.

It was what always happened next.

She held there, though, dripping, in the open door of his motel room, staring him in the eyes. He stared right back, and she could watch him think. It was still cute, but something nagged at her. She waited for him to say something, get something out or off his chest before he resumed kissing her the way he always had. He already knew how to get her started, get her wet, even after a couple of weeks and just a few times. And this time, she was ready. She should have been ready. It was like makeup sex, right?

Except it wasn’t, she realized, and after a moment of staring into his eyes she realized he felt it, too. It was the anchor that was holding him back, keeping him from leaning in and kissing her the way she was so sure he would. She suddenly felt the burn of shame, and she started to pull away but he caught her hand. “Wait,” he said. “Don’t go.”

“I …” She thought of a thousand excuses, then a million of them. None came out. “I should go.” That was what came out.

“Stay,” he said, and he said it like he’d said “wait”—like he was taking a breath. With hope and purpose, and there was no rejection in it. “Stay,” he said again, and she realized she wanted to.

“What …” She realized, as wet as she was, soaked from head to toe, her mouth was bone dry, like the dust. “What would we do?” It was an answer she didn’t have. She had a hint of it, though, and now she wanted to see what he’d say.

He didn’t say, not at first. He just licked his lips, like he was buying a minute to compose his thoughts. She gave it to him and waited like he’d asked—maybe
because
he’d asked—and he finally said, “Why don’t we just … talk … for a while?”

She thought it over for only a second before she answered, with her gut instead of her head. “Okay,” she said, and followed him into the room. And he shut the door behind them.

* * *

Arch opened the door to his apartment like he always did now, tentatively. He listened and heard movement somewhere in the bedroom. He shut the door behind him and tossed his keys onto the table. Fortunately they hadn’t been in his shirt, or he might have had to beg a ride with Erin, too.

Alison emerged from the bedroom, wet hair draped over her shoulder, a white terrycloth bathrobe clinging to her figure. She didn’t look surprised to see him, he thought. Then he took a breath. “Hey,” he said, low-key and casual, while he took a minute to gather his thoughts.

“Hey,” she returned to him. She lingered in the short hallway between the bedroom and the living room, a good twenty feet from him, and made no move to get closer.

“How are you doing?” he asked, lamely, he knew. He was searching for something to say—anything, really—to postpone what he knew he HAD to say.

“Just got out of the shower,” she replied quietly. Like she did everything lately. Since—

Since he’d—

Arch crossed the distance between them and fell to his knees like he had when the fire had come at him. He’d thought in that moment that his life was over, had been almost certain of it. He’d prayed, sure, had cited scripture, absolutely, but he’d left one thing undone.

He reached up and took her hands in his. “I’m sorry for the way things have gone lately,” he said. “I’m sorry for how bad things have gotten, how distant I’ve been, how much I’ve … I’ve let you down by not talking.” He saw a flicker of emotion in her eyes. “I’m sorry I’ve let things outside our house take me away in the hours I needed to be here and own me even during the times I was here with you.”

She didn’t say anything, just watched him with a stricken look, and he went on. “I’m sorry I failed you as a protector and let those animals violate our home. I’m sorry I let them lay hands on you.” He clutched at her hands, held them in his, and looked up at her. He wasn’t welling up, though somewhere down there it felt like he should be. His voice was thick with emotion. “I’m sorry I’ve failed you as a husband, and I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you in any capacity at all. I will change,” he said, with certainty. “God as my witness, I will. I am your husband, and I will start acting like it again.”

He could see a little waver from her now, a twitch of her lips. He brought her hands to his mouth and kissed them, then rubbed them along his face. He could feel the smooth skin against his cheek, feel the softness of her palms, could smell the—

Smell the—

He froze, her hand against his face. “It’s all right,” she said finally, and he looked up at her. She stared down at him and the coolness was gone. She looked a little warmer at him, still a bit reserved, too, but warmer than she’d been since the day she’d been attacked. “It’s all right, Arch. We’ll get through it.” She gave him a hint of reassurance and rubbed his cheek. “It’ll be okay.” Her wet hair hung limp over her shoulder, spotting the white robe where it dragged. “It’ll all be okay.”