Once Bitten - Page 35/52

For all I knew, I was a paler shade of green. My tongue felt too large for my mouth, and I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look at the hanging figure. I assumed she was Sharon. She wore a short nightgown, but she hadn't killed herself tonight, that much was obvious. A large bug crawled over her swollen face, and I looked away.

The room wasn't large, only enough room for her bed and dresser. The edge of the bed was mere inches from where her purple feet dangled. She could have reached it to save herself. Of course, the foot of the bed was probably the platform she'd stepped from after tying the noose to the fan. I circled the body twice before exiting the room.

What were we supposed to do now? Our new lead was literally dead. A thought that wasn't completely mine but triggered from Evan's memories reminded me that we needed to dispose of the body. It couldn't be left for the police to find. They would autopsy it. Science and shifters did not mix. If she'd been tagged, and I had the feeling she had, she would have shifted with the last full moon. Her body wouldn't be completely human anymore so we had to ... I didn't know how hunters disposed of a body, Evan's memories just insisted that we dispose of it. I frowned.

"What do we do with her?” I had to breathe to speak. I nearly choked before the question was out of my mouth.

Bobby's lips twisted, but he jutted out his chin. “I'll take care of her."

"Do you need help getting her out of the building?” Nathanial asked, but Bobby shook his head. “Well then, unless someone has any last ideas for the night...?” He paused, waiting for answers that didn't come. Epiphanies were scarce standing in the room with a dead woman. “Then I will take Kita home."

His house wasn't my home, but now wasn't the time to point that out. Protecting my hurt arm by anchoring it to my chest, I nodded at Sharon's body. “Shouldn't we try to find out more about her? How the rogue found her and such?"

"We have those answers. There are glow sticks in the trash can, and there are plenty of clothes that would fit in at a rave.” Nathanial pointed to a pile of dirty clothes. “This looks like another party connection."

"She refused to go to the police. Think she left a journal or something with information about the attack? Maybe we should dig around a little more.” With each word Gil's face turned progressively greener.

We made a quick search of the house. My mind kept circling back to the dead woman. She'd been attacked twelve days ago, but the only mark on her body was a long scar running the length of her arm. The silver tissue looked long-healed, which would only have happened if she'd been tagged by the rogue. When the gate opened and she shifted for the first time, her healing would have been accelerated. The last full moon, and thus last gate to Firth, had been a week and a half ago. That was more than enough time for a shifter to heal and a scar to fade to barely noticeable. I sifted through the piles of books and clothes on the couch. What would Sharon have been able to tell us?

There was nothing here. I dropped the clothes. I'd been avoiding the bedroom, but it was time to suck it up and venture in again. Apparently I wasn't the only one avoiding the room; we all ended up back at the doorway at the same time.

"Let's get this over with,” Bobby said, and headed into the room.

Holding my breath, I followed him. Searching with Sharon literally right over my shoulder was hard, too hard. So, I wandered off into the attached bathroom. It had a cute motif of yellow ducks. The soap dispenser, the toothbrush holder, and the hand towel were all duck-shaped. I opened the medical cabinet over the sink and discovered several boxes of hair dye in blinding shades of orange and green. The woman in the bedroom didn't have dyed hair, but that wasn't surprising considering she'd been tagged. Shifting had a way of purifying the body and returning it to its natural state. I shut the cabinet. The duck motif continued on the shower curtain. Even the clay trash can had little ducks painted on it. I peeked inside the trash and frowned. Picking up the clay can, I carried it back into the bedroom.

"What do you make of this?” I asked no one in particular.

Everyone wandered over, glad for the distraction.

"She burned a lot of paper,” Nathanial said, his eyes sliding up to the body dangling from the fan. “Probably anything we needed was in there."

"Well that's that.” Gil walked out of the room.

I handed Nathanial the trash can and followed Gil out. I found her beyond the door, taking quick shallow breaths. She'd hyperventilate if she kept that up.

"You okay?"

Gil nodded slowly. “I've never seen a dead body before."

"I have, but never like this. People die, but this wasn't natural. Or recent."

She looked at me, and I had the distinct feeling she was reevaluating what kind of monster I was. I hoped the scale tipped in my favor. Neither of us spoke as Nathanial and Bobby filed out of the bedroom.

"I think the night is over. We will meet at the bookstore again? Same time?” Nathanial asked, and waited for nods before leading me out of the hallway.

I glanced back as we reached the door. Gil was already gone; I assumed back to her world by magic. She wouldn't have willingly reentered the bedroom. I felt bad about leaving Bobby alone to get rid of the body. I mean, how weird and creepy was that job? But he was the one who volunteered to be a hunter.

I caught up with Nathanial and followed him out of the complex. We walked to the small alley between the buildings, and he motioned me closer to him.

"Aren't you afraid someone will see us?” I asked looking around. Already lights glinted through some windows. People were starting their day.

"Did anyone notice we were not drinking earlier tonight?” He didn't wait for me to shake my head. “Trust me. I am an illusionist, and this is my best trick."

Reluctantly I stepped forward and wrapped my uninjured arm around his shoulders. His hands slid around my middle and pulled me closer, then he as if taking a step up, we were in the air. We soared over the city, then over the suburbs. I bathed in the rush of the wind, in the weightless, haphazard feeling. A smile spread across my face as we dipped over the tree tops. After all, the real reason cats watched birds was because they envied their ability to fly. Okay, so maybe they made a fun catch and a tasty meal too, but flight, that was something special.

Chapter 15

Nathanial set me down on his porch steps and opened his kitchen door. Regan lumbered into the room, ready to welcome his master, and an involuntary shudder ran through me. I hesitated outside the door, listening as Nathanial poured kibble into a metal food bowl. Nothing sinister about that. Nathanial had said the dog was a big baby. I could walk past him easily, he'd be eating. The large dog plodded over to sniff his food. I took a step back, and snow crunched under my sneakers.

Regan looked up at the sound. Our eyes met for a brief second and I saw, not his apathetic face, but the snarling threat of the mastiff. Fear crashed into me, pushing me toward the perilous edge where rational thought fled.

I closed my eyes, forced a deep breath into my lungs. Had Sharon felt the same wave of fear while facing the beast who'd tagged her? The image of her rotting face filled my mind; her dangling feet swaying behind my eyelids. I choked on the breath I'd drawn. My legs jerked into motion, my sneakers digging into the snow as I ran.

I couldn't get the sight of Sharon out of my mind. Had she thought she was a monster when she shifted? That she was like her attacker? Had she killed anyone? The woods sprang up around me. I ducked under branches weighted with ice. How long after she shifted had she decided death was the only way out? I reached a clearing and stopped, looking at the sky. I wanted to see it filled with stars, or see the moon, but it was covered in clouds. At least the taint from the city didn't reach here. The air and the night were clean.

Nathanial emerged from the trees behind me. “What are you doing? It will be dawn soon."

"Good, I want to see the sunrise."

"It will kill you."

"That's what you've told me.” I didn't want to die, but I didn't want to be a monster either. Was that how Sharon had felt? Would I have had the courage to loop the noose, or to take that step off the bed?

I lay flat on my back in the snow. It crunched as it took my weight, feeling like rough glass but not cold. “I think, if I'm going to die anyway, I would like it to be while doing something I like. I've always liked sunrises."

Nathanial sighed and sat down near my shoulders. “Didn't we have this conversation a couple hours ago? You are a melodramatic little thing."

I ignored him and tried to will the clouds to part.

He studied me for awhile before finally saying, “You will pass out before dawn. You do realize I will take you inside once that happens."

I bolted upright. “Why would you do that? I have the right to make this choice!"

"Says who?"

"It's my life."

"Actually,” Nathanial said slowly, “More than half of it is mine. I had to give you a large chunk of myself to make you a vampire. It is a feat I may never be able to accomplish again. I used everything I had on you, and I will not see you burn in the sun."

"You think I should be grateful for this?” My voice bounced off the trees around us. “I didn't ask to be an undead, blood-drinking monster! Do I even have a soul anymore?"

"You are defending it from being eaten by demons, are you not? And I have told you several times, you are not a monster. Now, calm down. You will become weak in a few minutes and pass out long before dawn. You cannot play chicken with the sun. There will be no time to run then, or to talk sense into yourself. I will not allow you to burn, and I doubt you want me to."

I blinked at him.

"I hate you.” I whispered. “I hate this city. I never should have come here. And I hate this judge guy who thinks he has some right to police supernaturals. And I hate..."

"You hate yourself for running away,” Nathanial said, his voice too calm, too reasonable. “You ran away from Firth, and you have just kept running. If something scares you, if you get bored, if you become attached or find yourself beginning to trust anyone, you run away."