Unearthed (58 page)

“Mom?” Lauren turned her head to see Molly standing there. She looked so young, so innocent, so …

Scared.

“We were worried sick!” Molly said, easing toward her like a train gaining steam. She ran right into her, Lauren’s arms already open. They closed around her daughter, felt Molly’s slim, lithe frame tucked up against her, and Lauren pulled her close in a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I am, too, sweetie,” Lauren said, holding it all in. “I am, too.” Even though, really, she knew that she was pretty fucking far from okay.

Nicholas Reeve came into the sheriff’s station dragging ass. He could feel it in his shoulders, in his back, all the tension of days and weeks, stored up. Now he had answers, but what should have made him lighter had only made him feel heavier.

The station reeked of stale coffee. It should have smelled good. Lord knew he needed some coffee right now. He’d been awake for God knew how many hours straight. He let the door close behind him and caught sight of Donna at her desk, perking up as she saw him come in.

They were a little too old for her to come running at him like a teenager, but he saw in her face a relief that he found welcoming enough. “Nick, I was scared for you. Do you know what went on out there last night?”

“I do,” Reeve said, sauntering up to the counter and putting his elbows on it. “How many calls did you get?”

“I lost count after a hundred,” she said, standing up and stepping up to the other side of the counter. She looked tired, too. “Are you all right?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. There was emotion whirling around in him—betrayal, sadness, impotent anger, and good old-fashioned fear—in proportions he couldn’t even start to measure. “No, I’m not.”

“You want to tell me about it?” She leaned over the counter, met him halfway.

So this was how Arch felt. “I suppose I’d better,” Reeve said after a minute. But it took him longer than that to figure out how to even start—now that he’d glimpsed what was really going on around here.

“… that didn’t take very long,” Arch heard Duncan say as he came up the stairs.

“I pack light,” Hendricks answered the OOC. “It’s just an old duffel, and mostly filled with dirty laundry at this point. Not going to miss running this stuff under the damned pump.”

Arch came around the corner to find Duncan kneeling over his suitcase in the corner, carefully folding suits. He’d replaced the one he’d been wearing during the fight, the one that got shredded by the Rog’tausch, and now he was wearing one that was … lime green?

Duncan looked up as he entered. “I was talking about Arch getting here, not your packing skills.”

“Oh,” Hendricks said, hoisting his duffel on his shoulder. “I guess I wasn’t expecting him.” Hendricks gave Arch the once-over and looked back at Duncan. “You want me to wait on you?”

“Why, you coming with me?” the OOC asked, pausing in his packing.

Hendricks frowned. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the hotel in town,” Duncan said, standing up to face the Marine. “The office pays for a room for two; you’re more than welcome to bunk with me if you want.”

Arch watched Hendricks run through the decision-making process in his head. He figured the cowboy was quick to the decision, but slow to figure out an excuse that would play. “No, that’s okay. I think I’d rather room on my own again for a while.” He shrugged. “Besides, now you’ve got your town car back, and I’ve got Queen Bitch’s SUV, so we don’t have to be conjoined twins anymore.”

“Suit yourself,” Duncan said, turning back to his packing. “I might miss that snoring sound you make in the night, though. It’s an interesting distraction when you don’t have cable.”

“Your hotel has cable,” Arch said.

“Oh, right,” Duncan said nonchalantly. “I guess I don’t need you after all.”

“Can I talk to you?” Arch asked, looking right at Hendricks.

“Sure,” Hendricks said, hefting the duffel on his back and heading toward the door. “Walk me out.”

Arch made way for him, and fell into step beside Hendricks as they headed down the squeaking stairs. “I’m not going to miss this place,” Arch said.

“Where are you off to?” Hendricks asked. “I figured your apartment would be rented by now.”

“Probably is,” Arch said. “Alison and I are going to stay with her parents for now. Might look back into getting our own place soon, if the money starts to come in again.”

“Heh,” Hendricks said, slightly amused. “You gonna get your job back?”

“Maybe,” Arch said, pulling open the door and letting Hendricks go through first. Then he followed, stepping out into the midday heat. “But only if I can be assured I’m going to be working on what matters around here.”

“I suspect Reeve will accommodate you,” Hendricks said, “now that he knows the score.” He walked his bag over to the SUV and opened the back, tossing it in. “Lot of blind eyes got opened last night. It was like your boy Jesus came to town and started laying on hands.”

Arch grunted assent, trying to steer around the snotty way Hendricks said that. “Probably not enough. You know that’s a rental, right?”

Hendricks turned to look at it. “So?”

“So sooner or later the company is going to want it back.”

“Not as long as Kitty Fucking Elizabeth keeps paying them,” Hendricks said, looking more than a little bitter. “And if they do file a stolen vehicle report, maybe one of the sheriff’s deputies around here will give me a heads up before I get arrested.”

“I suspect Reeve might be willing to give a little leeway there,” Arch said, “knowing where the vehicle came from. Though I’m surprised you didn’t go for the sports car rental we left at the Venus Plantation.”

Hendricks’s face was impassive, expressionless. “That’s quite a drive. This was easier, just picking up Duncan’s town car at the impound.”

“Mmm hmm,” Arch said, trying to decide how to approach this. He knew he had a sensitive subject on his hands, but he couldn’t just let it lie, either. “You want to start or do you want me to?”

Hendricks let out a breath. “I had my reasons.” He looked up at Arch. “For going after her.”

Arch just shook his head. “If you want to go after Kitty Elizabeth, just go. I cut off her arm last night, and Alison stole her knife, so it’s probably closer to a fair fight now than it was before. Take your sword, drive her car, smash it through her front door, and get this thing over with if you need to.”

Hendricks showed the first sign of emotion, a tinge of regret. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Arch watched him carefully, waiting to gauge if he said the right thing.

“For abandoning Alison and Duncan,” Hendricks said, face grey with a weariness that looked settled in. “For leaving my post.”

“You made this big noise about Duncan and how his intentions were compromised,” Arch said. “Meanwhile, you were harboring the urge to run into a spinning buzz saw.”

“I didn’t …” Hendricks cut himself off mid-sentence, and an aura of frustration came over him, like he was trying to figure out what to say and how to say it. “It’s not like that. I wanted to kill her.”

“But you couldn’t,” Arch said, not holding back. “I don’t go for victim blaming, but dang man, you ran right into her open arms. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“She let me live,” Hendricks said, shaking his head. “I don’t think luck had anything to do with it. She’s a spiteful cunt, and this was her way of rubbing my face in … it … one last time.” His hand brushed over his mustache and beard. He looked like he was going to be sick. “This was … dominance. Superiority. She just wanted to … express her power and contempt all in one.”

“So, are you going to go after her?” Arch asked.

Hendricks pushed his hat back, still looking a little peaked. “No. I don’t … no. We’ve got things to attend to here.”

“If we’re going to do this thing,” Arch said, leaning in closer to him, “it has to be about more than your anger, wherever it’s coming from at any given moment. I know you got rage down there,” he pointed to Hendricks’s stomach, “but you need to get it under control. Because if you go charging groin-first into some stupidness in the future … you’re off the team.”

“Understood,” Hendricks said, sounding a little faint. He paused, waited, and then said something else. “We’re not much of a team, though. More like … a watch.” When Arch stared at him quizzically, he explained. “Team doesn’t sound too serious. More like for sports or something. This is life or death, and we’re on guard, you know.”

“A watch it is,” Arch said, nodding along as Hendricks got into the SUV, slamming the door behind him and starting it up. He rolled down the window, back to impassive.

“What’s next?” Hendricks asked.

“Gonna need to have a meeting,” Arch said. “Think we got some new blood coming in, and some old blood leaving.”

Hendricks just nodded. “You know where to find me.”

Arch frowned. “Not that sleazy motel at the off-ramp?”

Hendricks nodded, with a trace of a smile. “You know the place. The Sinbad.”

Arch just shook his head. “Aptly named, if nothing else.”

“I don’t need anything else,” Hendricks said, and Arch could tell he was faking a grin. There was pain there, though, and Arch could read it in every line of the cowboy’s face. It became even more pronounced as he started to drive off, dust of the driveway kicking up behind him as he headed out, the sound of the tires on dirt making a low ripping noise.

“You know he’s not going to be all right, don’t you?” Duncan asked, coming up behind him.

“He says he’s fine,” Arch said, not turning to look at the OOC.

“He’s lying.”

“Sometimes people do that to protect themselves,” Arch said. “Protect others.”

“It’s not going to end well for him,” Duncan said.

“That a prediction?” Arch asked. “Or a psychic bit of intuition? I can’t tell with you anymore.”

“He’s not carrying a rune to block my abilities,” Duncan said, staring at the dust cloud that followed in Hendricks’s wake, “but reading the future isn’t in the scope of my power. It’s just a guess, based on what I know about people and how they tick.”

“Tick might be just the word,” Arch said, staring down the driveway. “Because you know what follows that sound.” And he turned to go back into the house, because he had packing to do.

New York City at night was a beautiful place, all lit up and gorgeous, millions of lights shining in a way that couldn’t have been imagined in the days of primeval earth. Primeval earth had been a drag. All there had been to do was war, war, war, feasting on humans, and ruling over slaves.

No, Kitty preferred the civilization that humans had pulled over the world. The thin veneer of technology that stood between them and nature, eliminating so many dangers that had wiped out their numbers for so long. She remembered the days when half their children hadn’t even survived to the age of two, and the rest had tasted a little like plague and illness and rotten breath.

No, these days were better, she had to concede, watching the city lights pass her by in a blur as she made her way down Central Park West in the back of a service car. She’d had to make the arrangements herself, now that Rousseau was dead.

Yes, Kitty liked civilization, which was why she hated Midian, Tennessee. No musical theater. No culinary amusements. Sure, the catered party had been good, but that was one meal. And the cocaine hadn’t been bad, but—

She gritted her teeth together and lifted her new stump close to her chest. It ached, a slow, biting ache that radiated out from the site of the wound in circles as it faded in intensity the further away it got. She hadn’t expected things to go this way, but they had, and she would cope with them. She’d thought she could have brought about the end of the world, but really … would that be such a good thing? She’d promised Bardsley a higher seat in the new order, but what good was that?

She had all the human meat she could handle delivered right to her apartment. She had sexual satisfaction from any annoying man that looked at her askance, and she got the joy of ripping every ounce of their pride and manhood from them in the process as well.

No, it was best to forget that town, forget the Rog’tausch, forget everything. If an end was to come, it was going to come, regardless of her participation. Scrambling to make it happen in hopes that she could become queen of the underworld would just leave her as queen of the damned underworld, and as much as she liked misery, being in the royalty would give her a plenty close view to as much of it as she could stand.

Plus, she wouldn’t have to deal with … ugh. That fucker. Again.

The car came to a stop and the door opened. A young man with a smiling face greeted her. “Good evening, ma’am, and welcome home.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking his hand with her remaining one as he helped her out of the car. Her eyes drifted to his name badge. “
Jake
,” she read and felt her eyes narrow. She leaned in close to his ear. “Do you have a cousin named Anthony?”

“Uh, I, uh … don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, denial damning him.

“Sorry, my mistake,” she said, smiling lightly. She already had the wheels spinning, figuring out how she could get him up to her apartment without anyone knowing about it. She’d send him a blackmail note telling him to come alone, inviting him up to talk about this
very serious matter
at the end of his shift. She gave Jake a smile of reassurance. He smiled back faintly.

Men. So stupidly predictable.

It was good to be home.

Hendricks’s key found the lock and he turned it, pushing the door open real slow. Check-in had been simple, just pushing some bills toward a shrugging manager who didn’t seem to recognize him, and he was in. He asked for the same room and he got it, easy peasy.

The place smelled like it had been cleaned, but not recently. Hendricks looked up and down the parking lot and found it pretty much empty. He doubted there was another guest in the whole place at present. Maybe there’d be one later, for an hour or two, fucking and running on with their lives. That was all this place was good for, really; a dead end for people to hide out in, dark rooms for dark souls, people who didn’t want to be seen.