The Bloody City (7 page)

Sam turned his full attention on her, seeming to forget his usual “condition” of being offended.

“Occam wants to meet with you,” Muse said. “He wants to negotiate.”

“Does he now?”

“Negotiate?” June frowned. “I thought we already ‘negotiated’ with him. I gave him a tube of Micha’s blood. What the hell else does he want?”

“I don’t know,” Muse said. “He sent a message through our information network. He says he wants to meet with Sam.” She cleared her throat harshly. “And he wants Sam to bring Micha with him.”

“What?” June gasped.

“Right.” Sam snorted. “Does he think I’m actually stupid enough to bring Micha to one of his vampire tea parties?”

“I take offense to this,” Micha said. “I wasn’t the one who revealed their infection to the world. It’s Rose they have an issue with.”

“Yes, but they can’t kill her, now can they?” Sam rolled his eyes. “Occam is out of his skull.”

“I’m also supposed to tell you,” Muse said, “if you don’t do as he requests, he’s going to drink the tube of blood and pretend he never spoke to you.”

June sat back and rubbed her face. She was completely done with this city and all the hardheaded, manipulative people knocking her fate back and forth like a ping-pong ball.

Sam sighed. “Where does he want me to meet him? I find it hard to believe he doesn’t know where I am. Vampires are notoriously good at tracking people. I don’t think it’s a supernatural quality. They just cultivate being sneaky bastards.”

June pondered. Was that why Kevin hired them to find Sam’s brother’s murderers?

Muse widened her eyes. June wasn’t supposed to know that information. Muse had revealed it to her in a moment of strife. June bit her tongue and stared at the wallpaper over Jason’s head.

“At a hotel downtown,” Muse said. “Tomorrow night. He wants neutral territory, in public, he says so you won’t try anything.” She snorted. June wasn’t sure if it was a sound of derision or one of her ticks.

“Yes.” Sam lifted his hands. “Why don’t I take Micha Bellevue out in public and parade him up and down the streets for everyone to see?”

“You’re a shapeshifter who can shift other people,” June reminded him. “That’s how we got into Old Town, remember?”

“I don’t suppose I have any say in this?” Micha asked. “Of course not. My power to choose was taken from me months ago.”

June squeezed his shoulder. “If you’re taking Micha to meet with him, I’m going with you.”

“Because that’s practical,” Sam said.

“You’ll need some backup. You don’t honestly think Occam will be on his own? You’ll need help protecting Micha from them if they start to act up. We’re all in this together.”

“I don’t like having more heads on the chopping block than necessary.” Sam stood up and started pacing, head down, hands on his hips.

“I held my own when you sent me into a den of bloodsuckers,” June said.

Sam stopped. “Yes. Except for the part where they immobilized you and would have killed you if I wasn’t there.”

Everyone at the table looked at June. Micha furrowed his brow. They hadn’t discussed what happened at Occam’s place.

“I’m going.” She pushed her chair back sharply. “And that’s the end of the discussion.” She stood up and stalked out of the room.

She walked outside and sat on the patio. Afternoon had faded to evening. A cigarette seemed like the answer just then, but the hitch in her side reminded her she had to find new ways of coping. She still had a pack hidden upstairs, in case things got really bad. The cigarettes would be stale as hell, but they’d give her a buzz.

Diego emerged from the house a few minutes later and sat down in the chair next to her. They had so much to catch up on, not just current events.

“Is the shop still running?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah. Or it was. I closed it to come to Chicago and everything. But your mom is still paying the rent while I’m gone so we don’t lose it.”

“Ah, Christ.” June sighed. “She doesn’t have the money to be doing that.”

“She’s holding out hope you’ll come back. It’s all she’s got.”

She sat forward, elbows on her knees, rubbing her hands together. “Does everyone else back home think I’m still alive too?”

“I don’t know what’s going on back home. I’ve been here almost as long as you have, looking for you. But before I left Steve and Cody, they said there was no way something happened to you. Steve joked you probably found a guy and ran off with him, but after we read the stories about the press conference where you disappeared, he wasn’t joking anymore.”

She didn’t live all this drama in a bubble, and this point was suddenly driven home. Steve and Cody both worked in the shop. Steve was an artistic prodigy. Cody was learning. They were usually both founts of optimism.

“So”—Diego stretched his legs out—“what’s going on with you and the tall cute blond guy?”

“Are we that obvious?”

“Well, when you told me it was his wife that got killed, I assumed he was still dealing with some crap. But the way you reacted back there says something else. So is it unrequited?”

“Not exactly.”

“You and tragic guys June, what the hell is it?” He was referring to a single isolated incident with another “tragic” man, a year before, who, in her defense, was actually more dramatic than tragic.

“I don’t know.” June sat back. “Trust me, I feel guilty about it every day. It’s not black and white, though. He’s been through a lot. We all have.”

“You know, there’s this whole thing about how people who fall in love during times of hardship don’t last once the hardship is over.”

“We’re not in love. It’s just—I don’t know what it is. We need each other. It’s comforting.”

“Jason hasn’t met anyone to comfort him, has he?”

She side-eyed him. “You doth not protest too much now, do you, good sir?”

They both laughed. God, when was the last time she’d actually laughed, from her gut?

Diego squeezed her hand on the chair arm. “Damn, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she said softly, her momentary mirth fading. “What did you plan to do when you found me?”

“Take you the hell home. But it doesn’t seem like you want to leave.”

“Oh, I want to, trust me. But it’s a lot more complicated than that.”

“At least I can tell your mom I’ve found you.”

June swallowed. “Don’t. At least not yet.”

Diego frowned.

“If she knows we’re alive, they might use her to get to us. Don’t tell anyone back home you’ve found us, not yet. They’re watching people. They want to find Sam and Aaron, but I doubt they’d pass up a chance to snag me and Jason, too.”

“You think they’re watching your mom?”

“They might be. I can’t risk it.”

“What if they’re watching me? What if I’ve led them right to you?” He looked around.

“Nothing lasts forever. This will end, sooner or later. Doesn’t matter if it happens now or months from now.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, still holding hands.

Finally, she squeezed his hand, released it, and got up.

“You’re not allowed to date my brother,” she said. “Even if you do charm him to the other side. It would just be too weird for me.”

“Killjoy.”

The usual nightly routine followed: dinner thrown together from the groceries Cindy regularly brought, watching the news, and waiting for Aaron to call with any updates he had. He did have some—his information gatherers had confirmed, indeed, the murdered researcher stuffed in the trunk was a gift from Robbie’s faction.

Sam seemed agitated by this, more than usual, a bit emotional even. He went upstairs, and Muse followed him up a few minutes later.

June wouldn’t let Diego go back to the hotel where he’d been staying. She made him a bed on the couch, telling him they’d get his things the next day, when they went out to meet with Occam.

Micha remained in a stormy mood all night, and June finally sent him up to his room with the promise she’d be up soon. When Diego fell asleep, she went to join him.

However, she didn’t go directly to Micha’s room, but to Sam’s. The door was open a crack. She knocked lightly and nudged it open, peeking in.

“Sam?” she said cautiously.

The room was dark, but light from the hallway shone in. Sam lay on his side, his back to the door. He wasn’t asleep, though, as he immediately lifted his head and looked over his shoulder.

“Sorry,” June said. “I just wanted to—” She stopped, eyes widening.

Sam wasn’t alone. Muse lay curled up next to him, and she peeked over his shoulder.

“Oh, sorry.” June averted her eyes, though they were both fully clothed. “I just needed to talk to you, but it can wait.”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Sam said.

June went and sat on the steps, awkward. A few minutes later Sam came out and sat down on the step next to her. He was barefoot. He pushed his hair back.

“What?” he said.

“I just thought we should talk about this meeting with Occam tomorrow. How we’re going to protect Micha from the vampires.”

“Maybe we won’t have to.” He folded his arms on his knees.

“I don’t think Occam just wants to chat. Doesn’t seem his style.”

“I’ll think of something.” He curled his toes in the carpet on the stair beneath him.

June frowned and ducked her chin, trying to meet his eyes. “Something wrong? It seems like something’s bothering you.”

“Oh, no, what could possibly be bothering me? Everything’s just peachy in my perfect, blissful life.”

She rolled her eyes. “I mean, besides the obvious. Is this about Robbie?”

Sam gazed down the stairs. “Muse isn’t feeling well, that’s all.”

“Oh. Is it, um”—she touched her face, indicating the ticks—“the nerve damage? Or something else?”

“She’s dying,” he said flatly. “We’ve both known that for a long time. It’s no surprise she’s going to feel under the weather now and then.”

“There’s nothing that can be done for her?”

“What’s to be done?” He shrugged. “You can’t lessen her powers or take them away. Even the Institute hasn’t figured that one out yet.”

June hesitated; then she spoke carefully. “So are you and her…?” She gestured, a little wave, though she had no idea what it was supposed to indicate.

Sam frowned at her.

“Never mind.” She unfolded her legs. “But I think we should figure out a way to protect Micha, if there is one.” She stood up.

Sam grabbed her wrist. “Why do you care?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Because I don’t want him to die?”

“No, I mean about…” He paused and shook his head. “I’ll figure out something. I still don’t think you should go. I don’t want a repeat of what happened before. I truly don’t.” He sounded like he truly didn’t.

“It won’t. We’ll be careful.” She pulled at his grip. “Can I have my arm back?”

He let go.

He remained sitting, as June stepped up into the hallway. Should she sit back down and console him? Her consoling always ended up hurting more than helping.

“I trust you’ll figure something out,” she said. He probably needed to hear that, at least.

“Still the smartest man in the city,” he said.

“Given how many times you’ve saved my ass, I can’t argue.”

Sam’s voice came from the kitchen when she walked downstairs the next evening. He was talking to someone.

“You have to be extremely careful. No one can see you. Those are our allies watching the place, but it’ll blow our cover. They can’t know where I’m at right now.”

June stepped into the kitchen. Sam stood, lecturing Muse and Cindy, who were sitting at the table—Muse with her bleached-out white hair and Cindy with her unnaturally bright red hair. They looked like a pair of superheroes.

“Morning.” June went straight for the coffee pot.

“We’ll be careful.” Muse’s voice sounded rougher than usual. “I know that building and area like the back of my hand.”

“Our people will be guarding it,” Sam said. “At least I hope so.”

“I know your guards like the back of my hand, too.”

“Pour me a cup.” Cindy swiveled around to June. “I’m about to play lookout and I need to be alert.”

“We don’t have any whiskey,” June said.

“It’s all right. I’ve already had some.” Cindy controlled her “psychic sexual” powers with alcohol, as she was a sex witch. Not a healthy option, but June was far from one to give advice.

June paused in pouring Cindy a cup. Something struck her. Despite Occam’s drug and booze buffet, Zack and Belle hadn’t partaken.

They didn’t want to dull their powers, since they were about to use them.

June resumed pouring, trying to ignore the crawling sensation on her skin. “What are you guys up to?”

“Stuff,” Sam said. “If you two aren’t back here in two hours, I’m coming after you myself.”

“I would caution you not to be completely impractical,” Muse said.

“Noted.”

After a few sips of coffee, June grew a little more clear-headed. Micha was still asleep upstairs, and she had been worried the past few hours, as he’d been running a low fever. Random flu-like symptoms were the norm ever since his injection. Fussing over him increased his agitation, though.

Cindy came over to the counter and grabbed her cup of coffee. Sam and Muse left the room.

“You seem to be getting healthier every time I see you,” Cindy said to June. “Chest feeling better?”

“Better than it did when I was first shot.”

“I met your friend. Brave guy, hunting you down like that.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe he’s really here. I had to peek in the living room to make sure it wasn’t a dream.”

“So, is he like…your ex-boyfriend?”

June reared her head back. “No.”

Cindy shrugged. “Thought it might be love. That’s a lot to go through, following a woman across the country, searching for months, braving untold dangers to find her. Kinda romantic.”

“He’s gay.”

Cindy blinked.

“God, you really have no gaydar, do you? Of course, we found that out a long time ago.” Cindy had thought June was a lesbian when she first met her. Just like the stupid vampires.

“Too bad. He’s cute.” Cindy took a drink.

“How’s Dipity?”