Obsidian Butterfly

53

EDWARD GOT HIS SUNGLASSES out of the glove compartment and handed them to me before we went inside the hospital. My eyes hadn't changed back, though I knew the effect was beginning to wear off, because the fact that my eyes were still black and glowy was beginning to worry me. It was a good sign.

Nicky Baco was not in a private room. The police had his roommate moved to a different room. Nicky was in traction, and wasn't going anywhere. He lay in the bed and looked smaller than I knew he was. The leg that had been badly broken was in a cast from toe to thigh. Little pulleys and cords held his leg up at an odd angle that must have been hell on the back.

Ramirez had been questioning Nicky for about thirty minutes and was getting nowhere. Edward and I leaned against the wall and watched the show. But Nicky had done exactly what we'd feared he'd do. He'd grasped his situation and his options right away. He was going to die. So why should he help us?

"We know where the monster you made is, Nicky. We know what you did. Help us stop this thing before it kills again."

"And what?" Nicky said. "I know the law. There's no life in prison for a witch that uses magic to kill. It's an automatic death sentence. You got nothing to offer me, Ramirez."

I pushed away from the wall and touched Ramirez's arm. He looked at me, and the frustration was already showing. He'd been informed that Lieutenant Marks was on the way. He wanted to crack Baco before Marks arrived so he would get credit and not his lieutenant. Political, but the reality in most police work.

"Can I ask a few questions, Detective?"

He took a breath, let it out slow. "Sure." He stepped back to let me stand beside the bed.

I looked down at Nicky. Someone had handcuffed one of his wrists to the bed rail. I wasn't sure it was necessary with the traction, but it made a nice point. "What would the Red Woman's Husband do if he knew you gave away his secret hideout?"

He stared up at me, and even through the sunglasses I could see the hate in his eyes. I could also see the fast rise and fall of his chest, the thud of the pulse in his neck. He was scared.

"Answer me, Nicky."

"He'd kill me."

"How?"

That made him frown. "What do you mean, how?"

"I mean what method of death would he use? How would he kill you?"

Nicky shifted in the bed, trying to find a comfortable spot. The leg pulled tight, and he jerked on the handcuffed wrist, making it rattle up and down the bar. There was no comfortable position for Nicky tonight.

"He'd probably send his monster after me. It'd cut me up and gut me like it's done to the others."

"His minion slaughtered all the witches or psychics, and skinned the mundanes. That's it, isn't it?"

"If you're so smart, you don't need to ask me. You have all the answers."

"Not all of them," I said. I touched the bed rail that he was cuffed to, wrapped my hands around it on either side of the cuff so he couldn't slide it without hitting one of my hands. "I've seen the bodies, Nicky. It's a bad way to go, but there are worse things."

He gave a harsh laugh. "Being gutted alive — doesn't get much worse than that," he said.

I took the sunglasses off and let him see the eyes.

He stopped breathing for a heartbeat. He just stared up at me, eyes growing wide, breath trapped in his throat.

I touched his hand, and he screamed. "Don't touch me! Don't you fucking touch me!" He was jerking on the handcuff frantically, over and over, as if that would help.

Ramirez came to stand on the other side of the bed across from me. He looked a question at me.

"I didn't hurt him, Hernando."

"Get her the fuck away from me."

"Tell us where the monster is, and I'll send her out of the room."

Nicky looked from one to the other of us, and the fear showed on his face now. You didn't have to have vampire vision to see it. "You can't do this to me. You're the cops."

"We're not doing anything to you," Ramirez said.

Nicky's eyes flicked back to me. "You're the cops. You can execute me, but you can't torture me. That's the law."

"You're right, Nicky. The police aren't allowed to torture prisoners." I leaned in close and whispered, "But I'm not the police."

He started tugging on the chain again, rattling it up and down the bar. "Get her away from me, now! I want a lawyer. I want a fucking lawyer."

Ramirez turned to the two uniformed cops waiting by the door. "Go call Mr. Baco a lawyer."

The two cops looked at each other. "Both of us?" one asked.

Ramirez nodded. "Yeah, both of you."

They exchanged another look and went for the door. The taller one asked, "How long you think this phone call should take?"

"A while, and knock before you come back in."

The uniforms left, and it was just Edward, Ramirez, Nicky, and me. Nicky was staring up at Ramirez. "You're a good cop, Ramirez. I've never heard any dirt on you. You won't let her hurt me. You're a good guy. You won't let her hurt me." His voice was high and frantic, but each time he said it, he seemed more sure of himself, more certain that Ramirez's goodness would be his shield.

He was probably right on one thing, Ramirez wouldn't let me hurt him, but I was willing to bet that Ramirez would let me scare him.

I reached out like I'd stroke Nicky's face. He jerked back, out of reach.

"Ramirez, shit, please, don't let her touch me."

"I'll be over there if you need me, Anita." He walked away from the bed and went to sit in a chair at the end of the room near Edward.

Nicky screamed after him, "Ramirez, please, please!"

I touched his mouth with fingertips, and he froze under that gentle touch. His eyes moved slowly, so slowly until he was looking up into mine. "Shhh," I said and lowered my face towards his, as if I'd kiss his forehead.

He opened his mouth, drew a breath, and shrieked. I grabbed his face between my hands the way I'd seen Pinotl do, but I knew that it didn't have to be the hands. I could suck him dry with a kiss. "Shut up, Nicky, shut up!"

He started to cry. "Please, oh, god, please don't."

"Did the werewolves beg like this?" I asked. "Did they, Nicky?" I pressed my hands into his face until the skin puckered.

"Yes," he said, voice squeezed by how tight I was holding his face. I had to force myself to release his face, or I was going to leave red marks. Couldn't mark him up. Couldn't give Marks a reason to punish Ramirez.

I leaned my arms on the bed rail that he was chained to. He pulled his hand to the length of the chain, but didn't struggle. He watched me the way mice watch cats when they know there's no way out. I leaned towards him. It was a very casual movement, but it put my face close to his, not close enough to touch but close enough that he got an up close look at the eyes.

"You see, Nicky, there are worse things."

"You need me to bring the others back. You do me, and I can't give them back their lives."

"You see, Nicky. I don't need you anymore. I know how to bring them back all by myself." I leaned over, balancing on tiptoe and my arms on the rail, leaning in, as if to whisper in his ear. "Your services are no longer needed."

"Please," he whispered.

I spoke with my mouth so close to his face that I could feel my breath coming back from his skin in a warm pulse. "The doctors will certify you dead, Nicky. They'll bury you in a box somewhere, and you'll hear every shovel full of dirt as it hits the coffin lid. You'll lie there in the dark and scream in your head, and no one will hear you. Maybe we'll have to put a jade bead in your mouth and sew it shut to make you lie still."

Tears trailed from his eyes, but his face was blank, as if he didn't know he was crying.

"Tell them where your master is, Nicky, or I swear I will do worse than kill you." I kissed him on the forehead, very gently.

He whimpered.

I kissed the tip of his nose, the way you do with children. I hovered over his mouth. "Tell them, Nicky." I lowered my mouth over his, our lips brushed, and he turned his head.

"I'll tell you. I'll tell you anything you want to know."

I moved away from the bed and let Ramirez move up to take his turn.

A phone rang, and Edward pulled his cell phone from his back pocket. He opened the door and went into the hall to take the call.

Ramirez's voice was not happy. "What do you mean you can't tell me how to get there?" He had his notebook open, his pen poised, and nothing written down.

I started to walk back toward the bed.

Nicky held his hands up as if to ward me off. "I swear to you that I can take you to it, but I can't give you directions and be sure you'll find it. I don't want to send you out into the dark, and have you not find it. You'd blame me, and it wouldn't be my fault."

Ramirez looked at me.

I nodded. He was too scared to lie, and it was too stupid a story to be made up.

"I can take you to it. If I'm there, I can take you to it."

"Of course, if you're there, you can warn your master," I said.

"I wouldn't do that." But I saw the change in his skin color, the rise in breathing, the flick of his eyes.

"Liar," I said.

"All right, but I'd be a fool not to try and get away. They're going to kill me, Anita. Why shouldn't I try to get away?"

I guess I couldn't blame him on that one. "Call Leonora Evans. She's a witch. Have her ward him, make sure that he can't contact his master by anything other than yelling."

"And the yelling?" Ramirez said.

"Gag him when the time comes," I said.

"You trust Leonora Evans to do this?"

"She saved my life, so I guess I do."

Ramirez nodded. "Okay, I'll call her in." He looked at the traction ropes. "The doctors aren't going to want him going anywhere tonight."

"Talk to them, Hernando. Explain what's at stake. Besides, what good does it do to heal him if you're just going to turn around and execute him?

Ramirez looked at me. "That was harsh."

"Yeah, it was, but it's still true."

Edward knocked and came in the door just far enough to say, "I need you out here."

I glanced at Ramirez. "I think we can take it from here, thank you," he said.

"My pleasure." I slipped the sunglasses back on as I followed Edward out into the hall. The moment I looked at Edward's face, I knew something bad had happened. He didn't show it the way a normal person would, but it was there, the tightness around his eyes, the way he held himself, carefully, as if he were afraid to move too suddenly or he'd break. I don't think I'd have seen it without the vampire vision.

"What's wrong?" I stepped in close, because something told me this was not for police consumption. With Edward it so seldom was.

He took me by the arm down the hallway, further away from the uniforms that were staring our way. "Riker has Donna's kids." His grip tightened, and I didn't tell him it hurt. "He has Peter and Becca. He's going to kill them if I don't bring you to him now. He knows we're at the hospital. He's given me an hour to make the drive, then he starts torturing them. If I'm not there in two hours, he'll kill them. If I bring the police in, he'll kill them."

I touched his arm. If it had been almost any other friend, I'd have hugged him.

"Is Donna okay?"

He seemed to realize he was digging into my arm and let me go. "This is Donna's night at her group. I don't know if the babysitter's still alive, but Donna won't even be home for two, maybe three hours. She doesn't know."

"Let's go," I said.

We turned and started walking down the hallway. Ramirez yelled behind us.

"Where are you two going? I thought you'd want to be in on it."

"Personal emergency," Edward said, and kept walking.

I turned around, walking backwards, trying to talk at the same time. "In two hours call Ted's house. The call will be forwarded to his cell phone. We'll join you on the monster hunt."

"Why two hours?" he asked.

"The emergency will be taken care of by then," I said. I had to touch Edward's arm, to keep walking backwards and not fall.

"Everything could be over two hours from now," Ramirez said.

"I'm sorry." Edward was at the doors that led into the next section of hallway. He pulled me through, the doors shut behind us. He was already punching numbers on the cell phone. "I'll have Olaf and Bernardo meet us at the turnoff to Riker's place."

I don't know which of them answered, but he gave a long list of things to bring, and he made them write it down. We were out of the hospital, through the parking lot and getting into his Hummer before he clicked the telephone off.

Edward drove, and all I had to do was think. Not a good thing. I was remembering last May when some bad guys kidnapped Richard's mother and younger brother. They'd sent us a box with a lock of his brother's hair, and his mother's finger in it. Everyone that had touched them was dead. Everyone that had hurt them would never hurt anyone again. I only had two regrets: one, that I hadn't gotten there in time to save them from being tortured; two, that the bad guys hadn't suffered enough before they died.

If Riker hurt Peter and Becca … I wasn't sure I wanted to see what Edward would do to him. I prayed as we rode through the darkness, "Please, God, don't let them be hurt. Let them be safe." Riker could be lying. They could already be dead, but I didn't think so. Maybe because I needed them to be alive. I remembered Becca in her sunflower dress with that sprig of lilacs in her hair, laughing in Edward's arms. I saw Peter's sullen resentment when Edward and his mother touched. I remembered the way Peter had stood up to Russell in the restaurant when he threatened Becca. He was a brave kid. I tried not to think about what could be happening to them right this second.

Edward had gone very, very quiet. When I looked at him, the dark crystal vision showed me further into him than I'd ever seen before. I didn't have to guess whether he cared for the children. I could see it. He loved them. As much as he was capable of it, he loved them. If someone hurt them his vengeance was going to be a thing of great and awesome terror. I wouldn't be able to stop him no matter what he wanted to do to them. All I would be able to do was stand and watch and try not to get too much blood on my shoes.