The Werevamp Diaries: Moon Beam Dream (The Lynlee Lincoln Series Book 5) (4 page)

He halted his steps immediately, then lifted one leg and planted the toe into the floor so that he could pivot to stare at her.  His eyes became solid black orbs for a moment, giving him a deadly look, then he inhaled a deep breath through lips that were pulled into a tight line.

She refused to cower, though she did respond. “I’ve never had any interaction with
the
phoenix, no.”

Only one true phoenix existed at any one time.  But there were numerous reports of certain hybrid creatures that could be called a phoenix.  Basically any sort of mixed paranormal that could regenerate or rise from the dead so to speak, would be considered a phoenix.

“We believe that this is the true phoenix.  Certainly we aren’t willing to take any chances, given that it’s is a very dangerous prisoner.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

Prieto chewed his tongue, clearly annoyed about something.  “She claims to be dying.”

“Ah.” Rhiannon raised her head and dropped it in an exaggerated nod. “She’s choosing to die then.”

Death would of course mean rebirth.  Rebirth would mean escape.  Prieto clearly wasn’t willing to let that happen.  But he also clearly wasn’t interested in talking about it further because he turned away from her and started back down the hallway again.

“What’s her crime?”

“Her crime is none of your concern.  You are here to keep her alive.”

“You’re kind of an jerk, you know that?”

She smiled when he paused just the barest of seconds before continuing.  She liked that she could get under his skin a little.  He might be scary as hell, but she was a werevamp and not much really frightened her.  Besides, what was he going to do?  Lock her away for being a smartass?

“Is she a smartass?”

Prieto stopped again, and she thought for a moment it was in response to her question, but he moved to face a large bronze colored door, then pulled a ring of keys from his pocket.  “What does that have to do with anything?”

Rhia just shrugged and smiled sweetly.  When he turned the key in the lock there was a loud sucking sound and a burst of air rushed past them.  Prieto motioned her inside, and she carefully stepped across the threshold.

It didn’t look like a prison cell in the least.  There was a double bed in one corner with a thick, albeit, plain-looking comforter.  Against the opposite wall was a desk above which were several shelves of books.  The chair at the desk looked comfortable enough with thick cushions on the seat and the backrest. 

Still, despite the apparent luxuries, the prisoner was seated on the floor in the center of said room, on what must surely have been cold hard rock under her bum.  She had red-gold hair that fell in layers down her back.  Her body was slender and delicate as a bird, but then that made sense, considering her kind were avian-shifters.  Her eyes were closed, and there was an expression of inscrutable concentration on her face.

“Red,” Prieto said in a booming voice that echoed from wall to wall. “You have a guest.”

She snapped her eyes open and glared, not at Rhia but at the tall fallen angel towering over her.  “Go away.”

Then she slapped her hands onto the stone floor and turned her body around so that her back was to them.  That was when Rhiannon realized the woman was humming.  It was an an ultrasonic wave that most humans wouldn’t have been able to detect.  She had no idea if an angel could pick up those sorts of waves, but being part wolf meant that she certainly could.

“You have some sort of a block on her, don’t you?”

Prieto didn’t even flinch, just stared intently at the phoenix’s back.

“Well.” Rhiannon crossed the room and placed her doctor’s bag onto the desk, opening it and removing several objects including her stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. “You can go now, Mr. Prieto.”

When she turned, she saw that he hadn’t budged.  With an annoyed sigh she approached him, “I mean it.  If you want my help, I want to be alone with my patient.  Now.”

T
he heavy bronze door grated against the stone frame as it closed.  Rhiannon watched it a moment, using her werevamp powers to listen for signs that Prieto might be spying from the other side.

“He’s there,” Red said from her spot on the floor. “Make no mistake about it.  The man gives me almost no privacy.”

Turning back to the phoenix, she moved to her knees and slipped the blood pressure cuff onto the woman’s arm.  “How long have you been here?”

“One year, two months, ten days and three hours.”

“And your sentence?”

She pierced Rhiannon with eyes that were almost the same red as her hair.  “Life, of course, doctor.  I’m here for the rest of my life.”

“You mean this life.”

“Yes, doctor...”

“Call me Rhiannon.  So what seems to be the problem?”  Her pressure was higher compared to healthy humans, but birds had higher blood pressure than mammals so Rhia figured this was normal.

The woman sighed, seemingly annoyed with being a patient.  “I’m cursed.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” She pressed the stethoscope to her chest. “Sure, you’re imprisoned for life, but the digs aren’t so bad.”

Red cocked her head to the side her lips drawn together.

“Take a deep breath and hold it.  Okay, now exhale slowly.  Good.  Breath normally.  Good.”

Popping the stethoscope off her ears, she tucked it into her bag along with the pressure cuff.  She slipped a cover onto her thermometer and then held it in front of Red’s mouth until she opened it and Rhia could stick it under her tongue.  While the machine made its reading, she took the woman’s wrist to check her pulse, noting that her skin felt hot to the touch.  Finally, there was a beep, and she pulled the thermometer out, noting the numbers on the screen.

“One fifteen.”  Again, avians had high temperatures, but that seemed a bit excessive. “What are your symptoms exactly?”

“Fever for one.”

Rhiannon nodded, a smile turning up her lips. “You
are
a smartass, aren’t you?”

Red’s mouth twitched, then she grinned and placed her palms to the floor again, this time to stand up.  She issued a little moan and Rhiannon immediately put a hand under her arm to help her.  Once she was at her bed, the woman plopped her butt down and panted a little to catch her breath.  “I’m cursed,” she said between gasps. “In the sense of black magic.  The kind of black magic that you never want to run into.”

“Ah.” Rhiannon raised her head in a long drawn out nod. “I see.  Sorry about my confusion.  So tell me what this curse does exactly.”

“It progresses over time, and I’ll get sicker and sicker.  First fever, aches and pains like human flu. My bones will hurt, deep down inside where nothing can numb it. I’ll eventually become hemorrhagic.  And vomiting. You know what people say about throwing your guts up?”

“Uh huh.”

“Literally.  It’s not a pretty sight.  Not a pretty sight at all, and I’d rather just skip it if it’s all the same to you.”

“In other words, you want me to help you die before we get to that part.”

“I don’t need your help for the dying part.  I can do that on my own—that is, if I weren’t under a block.  They aren’t going to let me die.  No matter what you do, they are determined to keep me alive.”

Rhiannon put out her hand and helped ease Red back against the pillows on her bed. “You can’t die because of the block, so you’ll just...linger like that...” She wasn’t sure how to say it.

“I have no idea what will happen.  But I’m certain it will include the kind of suffering I’m not interested in experiencing.”

Narrowing her eyes, Rhiannon sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at her medical bag for a few minutes.  “Well, this certainly wasn’t what I was expecting, and I’m not really prepared.  But we can try some things to keep you comfortable.  Maybe the curse can just work its way out of your system.”

Red hissed a pain-filled laugh. “Curses don’t work that way.  But I don’t mind trying out ways to keep me comfortable.  Meditation’s helping a bit, but I’m in the early stages.  It can only get worse.”

Standing and collecting her bag, Rhia riffled around until she found a smaller bag of oils.  She set three small vials on the desk along with a medicine dropper.  Carefully she concocted a mixture of marjoram, frankincense and lemongrass, then used the dropper to add a dose of the blend to about ten empty capsules.  “I wish I had some copaiba, but I don’t.  I’ll be sure to bring some when I come back.  Take one of these every 6-8 hours as needed.  If you feel any ill effects—I mean besides those you would expect from the curse—have Prieto contact me.  We could do a skin test for allergies, but I don’t really have time to wait around for that.”

“I’ve used oils before.  I don’t know of any that I’ve ever been allergic to.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the woman was curled up tight into a ball, all of her blankets tucked around her.  She was shivering, and her cheeks looked flushed. 

“You need a heater in here, too.  This cold stone isn’t doing you any good.”  She slipped the pills into a bag and then brought them to the little table beside Red’s bed.  Crouching down into a squat, she got close to her patient’s ear. “What exactly is your crime?”

Red’s eyes fluttered open, and she stared at Rhia for a few minutes.  “I’m a murderer.  That’s what an assassin becomes when she kills an innocent.  And maybe to some that’s enough to justify this curse, even if the curse preexisted the crime.” Her eyes fluttered closed as her entire body began to quake with chills.

R
hiannon and Prieto made their way down the stone corridor, mostly in silence.  Finally, he stopped in an alcove and turned to her. “Can you keep her alive?”

“Keep her alive?” She turned on him, eyes flashing fury. “You don’t need me to keep her alive.  You’ve got that pretty much wrapped up on your own with that block.”

“You’re angry.”

It was a flat statement that made her want to punch him in the jewels.  That would wipe that disinterested glare off his face.  She clenched her fist at her side and pondered the possible repercussions of that action. 

His words interrupted before she could make a decision. “You have no knowledge of her crimes.  Her sentence is a just one.”

“Her sentence might be just in certain circumstances, but in hers it will be torture.  Possibly a lifetime of torture.  I can’t make her better, Prieto.”

“What type of illness does she have?”

Rhia advanced on him, hand raised and finger wagging in his face. “She isn’t sick.  She’s cursed.  And I think both of us learned recently how bad curses can be.”

The edges of his lips turned white, and even though he showed no other reaction, she knew she’d hit a nerve.  Lynlee’s recent brush with death had been directly related to a curse she picked up from a wedding dress.  And the curse Red just described sounded a hell of a lot worse than that one.

“What will this curse do exactly?”

Rhiannon dropped her bag and used both hands to draw her thick brown hair back, twisting it so that she could tie it into a messy bun.  Her wolf was chomping at the bit to let loose, and that made the hair on the back of her neck itch as her hackles stood up, “She’s going to get sicker, Prieto.  The kind of painful sick that makes people beg for death.  The kind of sick that’s going to make that cell in there a really grotesque nightmare.”

Now his entire face turned a shade whiter.  He put his hands behind his back and lifted his chin. “There must be some way to stop it.”

She picked up her bag, then leaned against the stone wall and rubbed at the aching spot between her eyes. “Yeah, there’s a pretty easy way to stop it.  You could just let her die.”

“I can’t do that.  If you knew her crimes, you would understand.”

Rhiannon nodded, pushing herself forward. “I need to get home.  I’ve given her something that will help with the pain when it starts.  That room is too cold.  Get her some heat in there and some more blankets.  And she needs plenty of water or she’ll get dehydrated.”

“All right.  What else will you do?”

Refusing to look at him, she turned away from him and waited for him to begin transporting her.  “I don’t know, but I’ll try to think of something.”

She closed her eyes when the purple cloud surrounded her, focusing instead on the problem at hand.  When they landed in her living room, she coughed a little to clear the lingering smoke, then tossed her bag onto a table beside the door.

“One more thing,” she told him before he disappeared. “I’m going to consult with Lynlee on this.  Don’t give me that crap about confidentiality.”

“Agreed.”  Then he was gone.

She glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised to see that it was almost daybreak.  Her head fell back, and she groaned, one part exhausted and one part confounded. Red’s case was going to be a difficult one.  And it would require some sleep and a clear mind to even begin.  She quickly tapped out a message to Lynlee, asking her friend if she could come by to chat on a special case later in the morning.

A baby’s whimper from her bedroom reminded her that she wasn’t alone in the apartment.  She frowned at the mussed blankets on the couch and sighed deep as she thought of how comfy her bed would feel.  Without even changing out of her clothes, she plopped down on the sofa and tossed the covers atop herself.  The crying from the bedroom was picking up in intensity, so she stuffed the pillow around her ears and waited for it to quiet. 

But it didn’t.  Before long, panicky wails were coming from down the hallway.  Rhia threw back the blankets with an aggravated groan.  Marching down towards the bedroom, she called, “Rhetta, is something wrong with Remy?”

When she burst into the room, she was shocked to see her baby nephew alone, his legs and arms flailing and his face beet red.  Tears were trailing his cheeks, and he was crying so hard that he was hiccupping for breath.

“Hey, little guy.” Rhiannon crooned, scooping him into her arms and rocking him against her breast. “It’s okay.  Auntie Rhia’s here.  Shh.”

As she walked him around the room to quiet him, she spied an envelope with her name scrawled on the front.  Remy settled down and started chewing on his fist, so she sat down on the edge of the bed to open the note.