Page 12 of Black Bird

“Well, obviously she wasn’t if you were able to question her.” She grabbed a broom and dustpan from the corner and started sweeping up the glass. “What did she say to you at the hospital?” Athan dragged on his cigarette, keeping it between his teeth as he knelt down to help.

“She recognized me from the club. She saw me when I left and didn’t forget it. She doesn’t know it was me in the alley and she only remembers being alone before I fed on her.”

“Nothing after?”

“I didn’t get that far. She passed out on me. She’s still really weak. We didn’t make it back down the hallway before she fell.”

Rhaena paused and looked at him.

“Wait—what do you mean,back down the hallway?” She stood the broom on its end and leaned on the stick. He raised his head and looked up at her, taking the cigarette between his middle and forefinger.

“I took her outside for a cigarette.”

“You didwhat?!” Rhaena snapped, peering down at him in frustration. “What else did you do, Kane?” She shifted her weight onto one hip. “Did you tuck her in? Read her a bedtime story?” He swallowed hard and didn’t answer, sliding the cigarette back into his mouth and taking the broom and dustpan from her. As he started sweeping the glass into the pan, Rhaena planted her hands on her hips and slowly shook her head. “Go ahead and get too close to this shit. Cap’s gonna throw us off this case, and prying eyes are gonna start figuring out everything we’ve covered up. You know where that’s gonna leave you?”

She could tell he was struggling. Knew there was little he could do to filter through all that had happened and knew there wasn’t much she’d be able to do to help him tonight. Above all, she knew that whatever changes that girl’s blood had made in his body needed to be nailed down and figured out.

“What about sunlight?” she asked, watching him as he dumped the pan into the trash bin.

“Ionly put my hand into it a day ago. I’m not sure if my whole body will be resilient to it yet.”

“Well, we need to figure out what your boundaries are.”

“I know that.”

Athan crossed his arms in front of him and leaned against the counter while he stared down at the floor. She wished there was some way she could—

“I’m going home. I’ll sleep a few hours and go in during the day. You need to stay away from her, Athan. No matter what it is you feel. I’ll go to the hospital after I get our shit from the precinct and see what else I can figure out.” He didn’t respond and Rhaena dropped her hand from her hip, moving past him and gathering her things from the living room. Poe screeched at her as she walked toward the door, and she rolled her eyes. She had her hand on the doorknob when he spoke from behind her.

“I’m sorry … about earlier,” he said softly.

She didn’t turn to look at him. “It’s fine.” Rhaena turned the knob and walked out barefoot, letting the door slam shut behind her.

This was a dream. She knew that. It had to be a dream if her mother’s kind face was before her. Her rich dark hair blew in the wind from the open window of the car as she laughed and switched the lyrics of the song playing on the radio to something stupid, causing Sarah to snort while she giggled at her. Not just a dream, she realized. A memory. That was two months before Katherine St. James fell ill from a strange virus that ended up claiming her life. Flashbacks of candid, happy moments trickled through her vision and Sarah welcomed them, easing into the comfort it gave her to see her mom again. It had been such a long time since she’d lost her that the sound of her voice and even the way she carried herself had started to become blurry. Sarah hated that feeling. It was bad enough that she had disappeared in the physical sense, but to disappear in every other way—

A chilling cold that could only be described as the touch of death crept over her as the images in her subconscious flashed to a memory of Katherine lying within a thick plastic barrier in a hospital bed, warded off by CDC agents and nurses in hazmat suits as they funneled in and out of a zipped-up bubble around her. Sarah wasn’t allowed close. Her mother’s sickening gray face was glistening under a sheen of sweat as she struggled to breathe, peering at Sarah through the plastic and reaching for her with weak fingers. She had died moments later.

The next flash took her into a bright hallway where Sarah remembered every word of the conversation with a government prick who refused to release her mother’s body for a funeral. The virus was foreign and unidentified, and they weren’t willing to risk the safety of the people for a memorial service. It single-handedly removed Katherine’s dignity and all respect Sarah had for public officials died with her. They hadordered her remains to be incinerated, the threat gone, and it was still nearly three months before Sarah was given a small amount of her ashes. The rest of her mother was carefully contained and studied, though she was never told where.

Sarah struggled against the drugs that kept her locked in a deep sleep. She begged whoever could hear her to bring her out. Wake her up. Especially as the next montage of memories began flickering into her mind. They’d drugged her. She hadn’t known who they were or where she was. They had her strapped to a table in a white room, a blinding light keeping her from seeing much else. Her mouth was gagged and her head fuzzy. She had tried to scream as a needle plunged into her arm but wasn’t able to make a sound beyond muffled gurgling. But this time—

Sarah’s hoarse voice wailed as she jolted awake, tearing the IV from her arm and scrambling beneath the covers of her hospital bed. Brent surged forward, trying desperately to calm her and let her know who he was and where she had been for the past few days. Nurses hurtled into the doorway and Sarah hyperventilated, backing as far into the bed as she could manage and screaming for her mother. Brent conceded, a horrified look on his face as the nurses held her down and forced her back into sleep.

Mid-day was an unkind hour to have this meeting. As the rest of the coven slept within the ranks underground, Dahlia Van Hausen impatiently waved an ankle beneath her desk. A knock on her door sounded and it creaked open, the face of her new toy peeking from behind it.

“Your Grace.” Devin dipped a chin, every mark of the tryst they’d had on top of this desk an hour ago utterly gone from his exposed skin. The scent of him and everything she’d made him do to her still lingered. Dahlia rolled her eyes.

“Send him in.”

He opened the door wider to allow Senator Stratford through it, the gangly mortal fool crookedly smiling as he entered. “Miss Van Hausen, a pleasure as always.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t say the same. Have a seat, senator.” She waved a hand toward the empty leather chair across from her. He made himself a bit too comfortable for her liking as he pulled off his stupid cardigan and sat, crossing an ankle over his knee.

“This place is quiet during the day,” he joked, stroking the gray stubble of his chin with his fingers.

“Yes, well … you’d better have something grand to tell me at this hour or I can promise you it’ll get a lot more quiet. What have you learned?”

“Still working on it. My sources have finally pinpointed the details crucial to figuring out how to manipulate the virus, but we’re still trying toget our hands on a specimen. I’ve got the key player in the door at EverLife, but we’ve run into a small problem.”

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