Page 75 of Black Bird

Sarah’s face shot up toward him from her spot on the floor. “What?” she asked.

Wren answered for him, wiping her eyes and sniffling. “The guy you were dancing with. From Dom’s party. I killed him, Sarah.”

Sarah covered her mouth with her hand, glancing between all of them. “Who is he?” She started shaking. “Why was he following her?”

Jenkins approached from down the hall with a few papers in his hand, one of them a mugshot with his personal information. “His name is Freddy Dowell. Goes by the name ‘Tank’.Plates on the car were stolen. We don’t know who he’s working for.”

“Was …” Wren corrected hoarsely, staring off with a numb expression. “WasFreddy Dowell.”

Rhaena sat her stuff on her desk and leaned over it toward Wren. “Wren, you did nothing wrong. It could have been you, today,” she offered, grazing her shoulder with a gentle hand.

“Doesn’t change the fact that I took someone else’s life,” she whispered, crying again. She buried her face in her hands, Sarah taking her mug and leaning her over to let her cry on her shoulder. Athan reached a hand out and Sarah handed the mug to him, holding her friend closely.

“Kane let’s take a walk,” Rhaena urged. He cautiously nodded, glancing back at Sarah who paid him little mind as he rounded the desks and followed her to the break room. Rhaena cracked the door behind them and started making cups of coffee. Athan stood close, pouring out the mug Wren hadn’t touched. “She knows,” Rhaena whispered. His face paled and he jerked his head up, panic flashing in his eyes. “Not about that. She found your blood bags after you left. I told her you were keeping them there as evidence for EverLife’s case. It was the only thing I could come up with.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck …” He mumbled under his breath. Rhaena refilled Wren’s mug.

“You’ve gone a bit too far with her not to tell her, Athan. I scented it as soon as I walked into the apartment this morning.”

“Did she tell—”

“Yes.” Rhaena cut him off, emptying the rest of the pot and washing it out in the sink. She started filling it with water. “You can’t keep letting this go on. Things are getting crazier for these girls, and somebodyis gonna get hurt. If she’s mad at you, then she’s mad at you … and you might be able to come back from that. But if one of them gets their hands on her …”

“They’re both after her for different reasons. It’s obvious after today that they’ll go through anybody to get to her. They won’t kill Sarah, she’s too valuable. But Wren …”

“Killing Wren would have lured her out,” Rhaena agreed. “She can’t go home. Neither of them should. I’ll take Wren, if you want.”

“I could put her in witness protection.”

“You’d need Cap for that … he’s not here. Let me see if she’s comfortable going home with me until we figure out what to do.”

Athan nodded. “I think I’d die if something happened to her,” he breathed, staring down into one of the mugs. She’d never seen him like this.

“I think you might be in love, bud.” She pushed the button to restart the coffee maker and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Tell her.”

They stared at each other for a moment, his breathing shallow and uneven. He nodded again, slowly, grabbed two of the mugs and walked out. Rhaena watched him pass one to Sarah. Watched the way they looked at each other even after all that had transpired. She might not take it well, but that girl was tougher than she looked. She silently prayed they’d all make it through this and somehow be happy at the end of it all.

CHAPTER 11

QUIET

Black Bird roared with the happenings of seductive metal, thrashing half naked bodies, and dirty dealings as Dahlia sat behind her desk in her office just down the hall. There was little noise in this room, though she remained close enough to hear any commotion. It had been nearly two weeks now since the redhead had gunned down her human spy. A loss that Dahlia rendered very small as she had little regard for his mortal life anyhow. She had others. She’d needed as many as she could muster to walk within the daylight and do her groundwork when she couldn’t, promising them immortality and power if they’d only do her bidding. The fools were all too eager to please her, begging for more ways to prove their worth and loyalty. None of them had any idea that she rarely made good on those promises and sought out her prey on her own. Patrick was a perfect example of that as he stood silently in the corner of the room, hands at his back and not daring to look at her. She liked them that way … like injured little birds.

“Patrick, my love …” She curled a serpentine smile, and he stepped forward, visibly shaking as usual. “Why don’t you go see what’s keeping them?”

“Yes, mi’lady.” He slightly bowed, ducking backward, and scooting out the door. As it snicked shut, Dahlia reached beneath the desk, opening the mini-fridge, and plucking out one of the blood bags within it. She kept her hideous smile as she flipped the bag over, revealing the patient’s name from the front.

ST. JAMES, SARAH L.

BLOOD TYPE - UNK

DATE: 10/13

Patrick re-emerged a few moments later, Decclan and Devin in tow. Dahlia raised her eyes to them. “Has she arrived?”

“Yes ma’am.” Decclan nodded.

“Bring her to me.” She leaned back in her seat, crossing a leg over her knee and dangling her ankle over the floor. Patrick and Devin took their places in the corners on either side of her. It was silent as Decclan entered the room again with the quirky blonde human. Her features were sharp, eyes a rich brown, and hair that was long and voluminous. She reminded Dahlia a great deal of herself with the spark of mischief in her eyes. “Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the leather-bound chair in front of her desk.

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