As Lie the Dead

Chapter Eight

12:40 P.M.

While Phin got us back on the road to Parkside East, the rest of my conversation with Kismet occurred in terse, barked sentences.

“What happened?” I asked.

“No one’s hurt,” she replied.

“But?”

“Someone’s there claiming to be Alex Forrester’s father.”

“Shit.”

“The Owlkins said they were friends of yours, but we need Chalice there to talk to this guy.”

“I’ve never met Alex’s father.”

“Well, we can’t produce Alex, so you get to field his dad.”

“What am I supposed to tell him? That his son was bitten by a half-Blood vampire and then I shot him in the head?”

“Variation of the truth, for now.”

“Meaning?”

“The last time you saw him was the day before yesterday.”

“Terrific.”

“Just deal with it.”

“Yeah, fine. How’s Wyatt?”

“Recovering nicely, the lucky bastard. The surgeon found that piece of knife an inch from his spine but got it easily and stitched him up. No serious damage, no complications, no long-term recovery. Wyatt should be up and around in a day or two.”

I released a pent-up breath. My chest felt lighter, free of a weight I hadn’t noticed until it was gone. Worrying about someone sucked.

“You have anything new for me?” Kismet asked.

“Couple of leads.” It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her about the meet at Park Place. Instead, I reported the slight mess we’d left behind at Mike’s Gym. “I’ll let you know when something else pans out.”

“Good enough.”

I slid the phone back into my pocket, ready to relay the major points of my conversation to Phin. As he negotiated a turn onto the Wharton Street Bridge, he said, “I’m glad Wyatt’s all right.”

How the …? “Let me guess. Coni have excellent hearing,” I said.

“Well, yes, but your phone isn’t very quiet.” He gave me a sideways smile, a flash of brilliant white teeth. “So you want to fill me in on the play before we get there?”

“Once I know the play, I’ll share.”

I closed my eyes and pulled on everything about me that felt foreign—all of the memories and sensations that were distinctly Chalice. Anything I could grasp about Alex. Emotions flooded me, at once warm and chilling. Quiet evenings on the sofa watching movies. Laughing at jokes. Loneliness. Camaraderie. Feelings, without specific memories. No names, no idea if Chalice had ever met Alex’s father.

The car stopped moving. Phin had parked across the street from the apartment building. I had no clue what was waiting for me upstairs, if this man would even recognize Chalice.

“Let me do the talking,” I said as we climbed out of the car. “I may have to do some improvising here.”

“And who am I pretending to be?” Phin asked.

Half a dozen things came to mind. All were demolished by the sight of him standing on the sidewalk, sans shirt. “Maybe you should wait by the car.”

He blinked. “Why?”

“Do you have a shirt in the trunk?”

“No.”

“That’s why.”

His eyes narrowed. “Evy—”

“I’ll be fine, and I’ll make sure Joseph and Aurora are fine.”

He looked up at the rows of apartment windows across the street. Mine faced the opposite alley, but I understood the gesture. Trying to see ahead into an unknown situation. Just the image of a smiling loved one could make the worry go away. He retreated to the car.

I offered a smile that he didn’t return, then jogged across the street. On the elevator up and the walk down the hall, I pondered different things to say to this man. A perfect stranger who might or might not recognize the face I wore and the body I had claimed. Nothing seemed right. I’d just have to go with my gut.

The door wasn’t locked; I went inside with as much authority as seemed necessary. It was quiet. Three people sat in the living room. Aurora and Joseph were close together on the sofa. Frail as he was, Joseph sat forward on the cushions, shoulders back, an ancient bird of prey with just enough spunk left to attack anyone who dared threaten his charge. Aurora’s head snapped toward the door the moment I entered, her hands wrapped protectively over her swollen belly. She looked past me, seeking someone who wasn’t there, and frowned when she realized as much.

The third person sat in the upholstered chair next to the sofa. He stood up and turned toward me, hands planted on wide hips. He was short and rotund, middle-aged, with gray hair around the perimeter of his otherwise bald head. Wire glasses had slid to the tip of his bulbous nose, but he didn’t reposition them. Except for his eyes, he didn’t look a thing like Alex.

“About time one of you showed up,” the man said. He had the voice of a longtime smoker, rough like sandpaper and deep as a bass drum.

“I was at work,” I replied. He knew Chalice. Good. From his annoyed accusation, he also didn’t seem to like her much. “What do you want?”

He jacked his thumb at the plastic garbage bags decorating the far wall. “What the hell happened to your patio?”

“Accident.” No way was I telling him it was shattered by two Triad Hunters who’d tracked me down to this apartment only to get their asses handed to them by me and Alex. “What do you want?”

“To talk to my son. That’s why I drove down here.” He grabbed a cell phone from the coffee table and held it up. “He left his phone here, which is why he didn’t get my six different messages, so where the hell is he?”

Sink-or-swim time. “I don’t know.”

Eyebrows rose in twin gray arches. “You don’t know?”

“No, I don’t. I haven’t see him since the day before yesterday.”

“And that doesn’t strike you as strange?”

It definitely struck him as strange, if the confusion on his face was any indication. I strode across the living room and into the kitchen, hoping to exude the air that I belonged. Any hint of that morning’s start of breakfast was gone, cleaned up and put away. I rummaged in the fridge and selected a bottle of water.

The fridge door fell shut. Alex’s father stood on the opposite side of the counter, glaring at me. I jumped. He was a fast mover.

“Well?” he demanded.

“Yes, it’s strange,” I said, coming around to the other side of the counter. “Look, Mr. Forrester, I—”

“Christ almighty, woman, call me Leo.”

Apparently we’d had this conversation before. “Leo, I’ve tried calling the hospital, I even called some of his classmates. I wish I knew where he is, but I don’t.”

“Well, that’s just perfect.” Leo took three steps toward me. His sheer bulk was impressive, thick without being fat; I almost forgot he was half a head shorter than me. “I drove eighteen hours because he called and said he needed me to be here. Well, here I am, and I’ll be goddamned if he’s not.”

Alex had called him, asked him to come. Had to have been the day Chalice died. Shit, shit, shit. It didn’t sound like Alex and his dad were close or Alex probably would have spilled the story over the phone. Instead, he’d reached out to his father for support. And Leo had no idea why he’d been summoned.

“I’m sorry,” was all I could think to say.

“Do you at least know why he called?” Leo asked. “He wouldn’t say, but it sounded serious. He hasn’t called me ‘Dad’ to my face since he was ten. I thought maybe something had happened to you, the way he sounded.”

Truer words were never spoken.

“To tell you the truth, I’ve been a little preoccupied. My finals didn’t go very well, there’s been some stuff going on at work. If Alex was upset about something, he didn’t tell me. Probably saw I had my own crap to deal with, so he left me alone.”

I saw his hand clench and arm jerk, and I stepped backward. He stopped, hand at waist level, not striking, but I knew the gesture. I’d seen men who hit out of anger. I’d seen men who hit out of spite. I didn’t know which kind he was, and I didn’t want to find out.

“I think you should leave,” I said.

He bristled, tensing like an angry bear woken too early. “I’m not leaving until I talk to my son.”

“He’s not fucking here.”

“So where the hell is he?”

“I don’t know.” My voice had risen, keeping match with his. I watched his hands, his face, anything, for signs of attack.

“Maybe, Chalice, if you hadn’t been such a selfish bitch and paid more attention to him, you’d know where the hell he was.”

My temper sparked. “Yeah? Well, where the hell have you been, Leo? He called you four days ago.”

His face scrunched, mouth puckering, cheeks flushed tomato red. “Don’t you judge me!”

“The way you’re judging me?”

I waited for an outburst, maybe even another jerk of his fist. He shocked me by sagging against the countertop, the wind knocked right out of his sails. His anger stayed, tempered by fatigue and outright concern.

“We’re all we’ve got, Chalice,” Leo said. “Alex and me, you know that. He’s my boy. I just want to talk to him.”

So did I, more than I’d realized. To apologize for killing him. To find some absolution for my part in such a horrific fate. Tears pricked my eyes. “I know. I love him, too.”

He removed his glasses and pinched his nose, squeezed both eyes shut and rubbed. The man who put his glasses back on and looked at me was calmer, a little sad, nothing like the man I’d just spoken to sixty seconds before. “Did you at least report him as a missing person?” he asked.

My stomach flipped. “Not yet. I guess I kept hoping he’d turn up.”

“Don’t you think it’s time?”

Calling wouldn’t do Alex any good, but it was something I could do for Leo. A gesture for a grieving father, who would find out soon enough that his son was never coming home. I crossed the living room to the small table near my bedroom door. Plucked the telephone handset from its cradle. Dialed.

“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” the stern operator asked.

I swallowed. “I’d like to report a missing person.”

I sat on the cushions next to Aurora. She and Joseph had remained silent during my argument with Leo and subsequent phone call. Both had adopted the sharp, attentive look Phin had possessed during our interrogation of Tattoo. The look of a vigilant hunter.

“Phin’s outside with the car,” I said quietly. “He’s fine.”

“You’re not staying?” Joseph asked.

“I can’t.”

“We’re no longer safe here.”

I glanced at the closed door to Alex’s bedroom. Leo had gone inside a minute ago. Quietly, resigned, when I had expected door slamming. “Leo won’t hurt you guys,” I said.

“He’s so angry,” Aurora said, fear in her songbird voice.

“At me, I think. And definitely at himself. Just try to stay out of each other’s way, and it’ll be fine.”

“I hope Phineas was right to trust you,” Joseph said.

I narrowed my eyes. “Well, he does, and you’d be smart to start. I have to go, but I’ll try and check back tonight. We have some promising leads to pursue.”

“I trust you,” Aurora said. “No one can predict our futures, but I trust ours to your care.” She gasped and clutched her lower belly. My heart nearly stopped, calming only when she smiled. “She’s active tonight, Evangeline. She’ll be ready to come out soon.”

I eyed her swollen belly and the invisible life growing within. “This is going to sound like a dumbass question, but can the baby—I mean, when she’s born—?”

“It’s just like human births. It can happen in a human hospital without suspicion, except she’ll cry very little. Her vocal cords won’t develop completely until the end of her first month.”

“Must be nice for you.”

She smiled patiently. “Our children grow faster than human children, so she will be talking at around eight months, in full sentences. The quiet period is quite brief.” Aurora took my right hand in hers and drew it to her belly. I tensed but didn’t stop her. “Here, she’s saying hello.”

Beneath my palm, something beat a firm staccato. I imagined a tiny fist rising upward, demanding to be noticed. “She’ll be a fighter,” I said.

“I’d prefer she know a life of peace,” Aurora said, and let go.

I withdrew my hand, uncomfortable, and stood. “Is there anything you need before I go?”

They shook their heads.

“If Leo keeps asking questions—”

“I’ve told him my brother was your old schoolmate,” Aurora said. “I live with my grandfather, and our apartment is being fumigated this week. It’s unhealthy for the baby for us to remain while it’s occurring.”

“Good.” It was close enough to the story I was going to give her.

Alex’s bedroom door was still closed, a solid barrier between me and a grieving father I’d never before met and yet still felt like I’d known my whole life. I could guess at the relationship Alex had had with the man, who was quick to anger and fast with his fists. Any number of stereotypes applied, and I wished I had time to learn which ones.

I tapped my knuckles on the door. Silence replied, so I went in anyway. Leo sat on the bed, his back to me, holding an album of some sort. I circled the bed, giving him space without being obvious. He’d stopped on a page with two black-and-white photos. One was of a man and woman, probably a couple, and two young children. A girl in pigtails, maybe three, mugged for the camera. An infant was held close by the woman. Take away the hair and smile, add twenty-odd years and a lot of life experience, and the man in the photo was Leo Forrester.

The second photo was of the two children, both older. The girl was about ten, her long hair combed straight. The boy was Alex—I knew his eyes, even at that young age. Both children had forced smiles for the cameraman.

My stomach twisted, shock setting my heart hammering. Alex had a sister. Had Chalice known that? The information didn’t feel familiar. No sense of her as an adult. We’d never met.

Leo touched the face of the woman, probably his wife. The tips of his fingers trembled. “I bet he told you it was my fault,” he said, without looking at me.

Oh no, I did not need a confession of pain from this man. I had too many damned things on my plate already. No more drama from Chalice’s life, please. “He didn’t tell me anything,” I said. “He didn’t talk about it.” Close enough to the truth, even though I hadn’t a freaking clue what “it” was.

Leo snapped the album shut and pressed it to his chest. “I always wanted to tell him the truth, Chalice. I need that chance.”

My eyes stung with tears. I swallowed hard, desperate to keep the grief at bay. I wanted to comfort Leo, offer him some measure of hope. Tell him he’d get the chance, that Alex would turn up soon. But I lived and worked in a pretty damned hopeless world, and I couldn’t give him that false comfort. It would only make the inevitable that much more painful.

“I have to go back to work,” I said.

His head snapped sideways. The wire glasses nearly fell off his nose. He looked me up and down, attention lingering on the old bandage covering a wound no longer there. Shit. Should have taken it off. Distrust telegraphed across his age-lined face, trailed by something else—an emotion akin to curious suspicion. A look I’d given to suspects time and again, in the course of determining if the information I was beating out of them could be trusted.

“Coffee shop can’t run without you?” he asked.

How the …? Maybe Leo and Alex had talked more often than I believed. “It’s not the coffee shop. It’s something I’m doing on the side, for school.”

“I thought the semester was over.”

Okay, now I felt like the one being interrogated. How’d he manage that?

“Aurora has a phone number where I can be reached,” I said. “If you hear anything, call me.”

“Likewise.”

One word, so accusatory. As though he knew I knew more than I was telling. I left the conversation on that note, and then left the room. After a quick detour to my bedroom for something, I stalked out of the apartment. Annoyed at just about everyone, including myself, with no clear plan for dealing with it.

“Chalice! Hey, wait!” The child’s voice pierced my eardrums from the far end of the hallway. I didn’t have to turn to know it was the neighbor girl—whose name I still hadn’t learned.

The elevator doors opened. I slipped inside and hit the Close button, in no mood to deal with the little chatterbox. I didn’t want to talk to anyone else from Chalice’s life, not for the foreseeable future. I needed to be Evy for a while.

Phin was sitting on the car’s hood, looking right at me when I hit the street. He didn’t move until I was close enough to toss a plain white T-shirt at him. He eyed it with a quirk of his head.

“Were you listening?” I asked.

“I tried, but the window faces opposite,” he said.

I opened and closed my mouth, a little thrown by the honesty. And perturbed that he’d tried eavesdropping in the first place. “They’re fine. Leo seems mostly harmless.”

“Mostly?”

“Is anyone completely harmless?”

The rhetorical question pacified him long enough for him to get the T-shirt on.

“But Aurora’s okay?” he asked as he pulled back out into the street.

“She’s fine. The baby’s kicking a lot.”

“The child’s strong, like her father was.”

Curiosity at the inner workings of the Owlk—no, of the Coni and Stri communities—made me open my mouth. Respect made me shut it again. I didn’t need to bring up those painful memories, didn’t need to pick Phin’s brain about the family he’d loved and lost because of me. Shut up, do my job, save what was left of the Coni Clan.

At the next stop sign, he asked, “Back to the hospital?”

“Yes.”

We spoke little on the drive back across the river. I picked the tape off the useless bandage, worked the bloody gauze off next, and tucked the entire mess into a neat pile on the floor. Phin snorted air through his nose, the only outward sign of his disapproval. Yes, it was gross, but I wasn’t putting it in my pocket.

“So, about finding out who the other bi-shifters are?” I said.

“I told you—”

“I know, you told me it’s not your decision. Who do I ask? This Jenner guy who was at the hospital this morning?”

Phin nodded. “He’d be the one to ask, but it’s ultimately the Assembly’s choice.”

“How long does it take to get permission from the Assembly?”

“It depends on how long it takes to contact everyone.”

“Hours?”

“Only if we’re lucky.”

I groaned and tapped my fingernails on the dash. “Can’t we just save time and ask the ones who are actually bi-shifters? Since you’re the ones who are most likely to be targeted?”

“I don’t make these rules, Evy.” Phin had visibly tensed; his hands tightened around the steering wheel. “I never wanted to be part of the Assembly, but since my people have few choices for representation, I have to abide by their traditions. Talk to Jenner.”

“Think he’ll still be at the hospital?”

“If he’s not, I’ll get him there for you.”

Both a threat and a promise, Phin’s words left little doubt that I’d get my audience with Jenner. One way or another.

I stood at the foot of the bed and watched Wyatt sleep for several minutes. He looked peaceful, all traces of worry and fatigue gone from his face. His right eye was puffy and slightly bruised, his left shoulder covered in white bandages. A half smile played on his lips, the product—I hoped—of a good dream. Machines beeped and whirred, tracking his strong vitals.

He deserved the rest; I hated waking him, inviting him back into our shared living hell. Denial was a happier place.

I skirted the end of the bed and perched on the edge, near his right arm. I brushed his hand, found warmth there, and folded it into mine. Squeezed. His eyes scrunched. I squeezed harder. Put my other hand on his chest. His heart thrummed beneath my touch.

He grunted and opened his eyes, peering at me from beneath thick lashes. Confusion slowly gave way to recognition. “Hey,” he rasped.

“If you don’t stop saving my life,” I said, “I’m never going to manage paying back this enormous debt I owe you.”

His eyebrows puckered. “You don’t owe me anything.”

I tapped my fingers against his chest. “Why don’t we save this old argument for when you’re feeling better?”

“Wimp.”

I laughed. “Stubborn jackass.”

He looked at my arm, shifted his position, and winced. “Guess that healing crystal was a one-shot deal.”

“Superhealing powers are overrated anyway.”

“Says the superhealing teleporter.”

“Two Gifts I never asked for,” I reminded him. “Not that they haven’t come in handy, but superpowers aren’t very fun when you keep healing and the people you care about don’t.”

His right hand clenched mine. He lifted his left, placed it over my other, held it tight to his chest. “I’m going to be fine, Evy. It looked scarier than it was. I probably wouldn’t have needed surgery if it hadn’t gone in so close to my spine. They were being extra careful removing it.” His eyes searched mine. “Gina said you and the shape-shifter went to do some digging.”

“Phin,” I said. Annoyance came from nowhere, directed squarely at Wyatt’s unveiled jealousy. “Yes, we did some digging. Dug up a pretty interesting corpse with his help.” I relayed what I’d learned from Tattoo about the meeting at Park and Howard, and what Phin had told me about bi-shifting.

“What was the other thing?” he asked.

“What other thing?”

“I overheard Gina saying something about a man at Chalice’s apartment.”

I closed my eyes, without the stamina to talk about that again, and let my head rest on his chest, just above where our hands still held tight. His heart beat beneath my ear, strong and powerful. It had stopped less than twelve hours ago and had nearly shattered my world. We had shared each other’s pain, and yet I didn’t want to share this one. He pulled one hand free and gently stroked the back of my neck.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I met Alex’s dad.”

His hand stilled. A moment passed. I let him lift my chin and turn my head until I was looking at him. “How did that go?”

“It was weird,” I admitted. “I don’t think he ever suspected I wasn’t Chalice. He seemed madder that I hadn’t called in the National Guard to find his missing son. Guess that makes me a bad friend in his eyes.”

“And that bothers you.”

“It bothers her.” And the dividing line between us was beginning to fade. “So, yeah, it does bother me. Especially since I know he’s not missing, and I can’t even tell Leo the truth. I don’t think he and Alex had a great relationship, but it seems like they were trying to fix it.”

He didn’t look away, but some of the focus left his eyes as he pondered something. Considered his words.

“Evy, I know you don’t want to hear me say this right now—”

“Bottle up my emotions, because my anger is my best fuel?”

His lips parted.

I sat up, shrugging one shoulder. “Kismet gave me a similar speech earlier today. Got any other fortune cookie wisdom for me?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “That was my best line. It’s all the advice I’ve got for you, and I hate to say it, but Alex’s personal bullshit with his father has to wait. We’ve got living people to worry about—one of whom is down the hall from here and counting on us to save his life.”

“I know, Wyatt.” I stood up and paced to the far side of the room. To get some distance, maybe gain some perspective. “I need to talk to Jenner about getting access to the Clan Assembly. I need to stake out that building on Park Place and find out who’s recruiting Dregs that hate humans. I need to get that password info from the gremlins first thing in the morning. I need to protect the last three living Coni long enough for one of them to have a baby. And all of this has to be done while avoiding questions from an angry father, not telling Kismet what I’m up to, and without you helping me.”

I glared at him, hands on hips. “Want to add anything else to my plate?”

Wyatt used the bed controls to sit up straighter, mouth twisting in pain as his body shifted position. “It’s too much? You want to quit?”

“Fuck you, Truman.”

“I didn’t think so.”

I slammed my foot flat against the wall—for all the good it did—and received a shock wave up my ankle and calf. He knew my buttons, and he knew how to press them. He wasn’t wrong, though, as much as it frustrated me to admit it. I had a lot to do, not a lot of time to do it, and very few people on my side.

At least my after-afterlife was somewhat consistent.

“What did the wall do?” Wyatt asked.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not allowed to vent anymore?”

“Vent, yes. Just try not to break your foot, okay?”

“It’ll heal.”

“You’re exasperating.”

“And you’re not?”

“I’m injured. I have an excuse.”

“You never needed one before.”

“Ha-ha.” He blew hard through his nose. “I want to be out there with you, Evy. You know that.”

I approached the bed, close enough to take his extended hand and squeeze. “I know, but this is what happens when you do stupid things like save my life.”

“Hanging around you does get me hurt a lot.”

“You love it.”

The setup was there, and I was sorry for my words the instant they left my mouth. I didn’t need to hear him say it again, not when I couldn’t say it back. Our gazes locked; I saw it in his eyes. In the way his lips parted, preparing to speak.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted him and dragged our collective attention to the other side of the room. Phin stood halfway inside, closed fist against the frame. He looked right at me, ignoring Wyatt, who held my hand tighter.

“Michael Jenner has agreed to meet with us,” Phin said to me. “Thirty minutes, other side of town. We need to go.”

“Okay,” I said, and then turned my attention to Wyatt. His expression was dark, annoyed. Probably by Phin’s casual use of “us” and “we” when Wyatt was stuck in bed. Professional jealousy I could deal with, as long as it didn’t develop into something else.

“Keep me updated,” he said.

“As often as is safe,” I replied. “Just sit there and don’t hurt yourself.”

He grinned. The simple gesture lightened my spirits, and I found myself smiling back. For four years, Wyatt’s unique brand of pep talks had gotten me through every possible sort of trouble, from relatively minor to ten-point-zero on the Oh-Shit Meter. Good to know he hadn’t lost his knack. I bent at the waist, far enough to press a kiss to his forehead and inhale his scent. Familiar spice and comforting warmth, mixed with a vague medicinal odor.

“I know I don’t have to ask,” I said, “but everything I just told you?”

“About what?” he deadpanned.

“Good man.”

Halfway to the door and with my gaze on Phineas, I stopped. He was looking at my chest, and it wasn’t for the first time. If we were going to work together on this, I needed him to stop doing that. I pivoted on one ankle and strolled back to Wyatt, carefully unhooking the latch on my necklace. I held out the cross and chain. Wyatt looked at it, then at me, curious.

“I’ll be back for this,” I said, as much meaning in what I didn’t say as in what I did. Wyatt took it, nodding his understanding.

At the door, Wyatt’s voice stopped me again. He said, “Hey, Phineas?”

Phin took a step forward, head tilted to the side, a gesture I’d come to associate with curiosity. “Yes?”

“Keep an eye on her for me.”

Sweet, but an unnecessary request. Phin and I had watched each other’s backs well so far; we each had something invested in the other. Wyatt knew that, he just couldn’t be there to protect me himself.

“Of course,” Phin replied.

“Just be a good patient,” I said, “and don’t piss off the nurses.”

Wyatt flashed his best shit-eating grin. “I need entertainment, you know.”

“Read a book,” I tossed over my shoulder as I left. In the bustle of the hallway, I waited for Phin to catch up to me, then asked, “Where are we meeting Jenner?”

“His office, over on South Street,” Phin said.

“Doctor’s office?”

“Law office.”

I groaned. Just had to be a lawyer.