Page 16 of Black Bird

“Go on.” Sarah leaned forward, intently listening.

“How long?”

“A little more than two years … why do you ask? Is there something I should know about Brent?”

“Brent seems harmless. How much do you know about his family? Do you spend a great deal of time around the senator?” Rhaena tried to choose her words carefully. Sarah slowly shook her head.

“I know politicians can be a dangerous type. Brent isn’t one of them. He’s a lawyer. He annoys the fuck out of me, but he’s a good guy.”

Rhaena almost felt bad about asking her next question. “I know this is probably really personal, and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to answer this … but do you love him?” She watched Sarah’s expression turn grim. Watched her eyes sink down to the rock she wore on her left hand. “I know that we don’t know each other, Miss St. James. So, I’ll give you something to build some trust between us.” Sarah’s eyes raised to meet hers. “I wasn’t a uniform when I worked security detail for that kid’s father. I was on a case. You need to be careful. That’s probably as much as I should say for now. I didn’t realize the two of you were together.”

“That makes me feel all toasty inside, detective.” Her eyes rolled and she stared back down at her hands that fidgeted in her lap. “I don’t.”

Rhaena studied her for a moment. “You don’t what?”

“I don’t think I love Brent. Or maybe I thought I did before.” She shook her head slightly and didn’t look up again.

“Before what? Did something happen? He doesn’t hurt you or anything does he?” Rhaena’s temper flared at the thought, and she rubbed her knuckles. Sarah’s face shot up at the question.

“No, no. Nothing like that. But … I don’t know—ever since I was attacked, I just feel this … darkness. This rage. Did Detective Kane share thedetails I gave him about the night everything happened?” Rhaena tried to forget certain parts of that conversation but threw on her best mask and nodded. “I didn’t see anything. I feel like I can’t even talk about it without people thinking I’m just heavily medicated, delusional, or just fucking crazy.”

“Why?” Sarah rubbed over her face and stared over at the wall behind her bed. “Miss St. James? Listen, I’ll go ahead and be forward with you. Kane and I are usually assigned to the strange cases that nobody wants because they’re too far-fetched for anyone to believe, therefore never getting resolved. I don’t think there’s anything you could tell either one of us that we haven’t heard before, or that would lead us to believe you’ve lost your mind.” She returned her attention to Rhaena and took a deep breath.

“I don’t think it was a person that tried to kill me.”

“An animal?”

“I don’t think that, either. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a witch. I read the tabloids. I know what people think. I know what they see when they look at me. I understand that I fit the narrative, and being hooked on Brent’s arm seems like some kind of publicity stunt. The truth is, detective? I’m just a biochemist that came to Boston to study blood. I finally got a job that I busted my ass to get, and I haven’t even been able to walk through the doors yet. I don’t believe in the supernatural. I don’t believe in ghosts, or faeries, or any stupid shit like that. I believe in science. I just—” She paused and shook her head.

“Go ahead.” Rhaena encouraged.

“It’s not even a question that the wound on my neck is a bite. There’s teeth marks in it. I got access to my charts and looked at everything that they’ve jotted down about this shit, and not once did they mention it being a bite.Not once.Although it’s more than obvious. They also tested my blood, and the DNA left in my wound by whatever it was that attacked me. There are hundreds …hundredsof strands. Not to mention that this thing is resistant to antibiotics, or pain meds … even ointments they’re trying to use to help it close. None of this shit makes any sense. Add that to the strange dreams I’m having? The bitter cold I feel? The anger I have now that I’ve never had before in my life? I used to be a generally happy person. I used to want to go do things. See people. Now, I don’t even want to study. I can’t stand to be around my friends. If Brent so much as stands next to me, I feel like ripping his throat out.”

“You’ve been through a great deal of trauma, Miss St. James. I think that whatever you’re feeling sounds a bit normal to me. Though, I do agree that the statistics are a little strange. I’d like to request copies of your chart, if that’s alright with you.”

Sarah nodded. “It’s strange, though,” she breathed, diverting her attention toward the doorway. “When he was here, I felt unusually calm … almost relieved.”

“Who?”

She looked back at Rhaena, her face unreadable.

“Your partner.”

CHAPTER 4

MISSING PIECES

Brent could hear Wren’s loud footsteps behind him as he feigned his unscathed composure, and eyed the door to the stairs when he approached the elevators at the end of the hallway. He decided not to wait and went for the handle on the door to the stairwell.

“You working on your pretty-boy physique, or avoiding riding in the elevator with me?” Wren jabbed; her thumbs busy as they tapped across the screen of her phone. She didn’t even look up when she spoke to him. He ignored her, ducking into the doorway and rolling his eyes when it clanged behind him, Wren bursting through it as he started to descend the first flight.

“Would it be too much to ask for you to leave me the fuck alone, Wren? Or should I pay you? Maybe leave a case of beer at your feet? Some sweaty, tattooed junkie? What would it take?” Brent almost relished in the pure livid expression on her face as he turned around to buck up to her. They paused on the steps sneering at each other.

“You want me to leave you alone? Then leaveheralone. Call it off.” Wren’s eyes were a bright flame as she looked at him. His jaw clenched.

“That’s not your decision to make.”

“She’s over you, Brent. We both know it. She’s just too good of a person to let you down.” He couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling that maybe she was right. “She’s better than us. Shedeservesbetter than us. Even I feel that way, and I’m not bumping uglies with her.”

---