Page 51 of Blood Bearon
Khove shuddered. “You’d best hope she isn’t here, or we’re well and truly screwed.”
He ignored Rachel’s amazement at the confirmation she was a real faerie—and one of the lords, to be precise. “In your bag though. Behind the seat.”
“What bag?” she snapped. “We went from the hospital, to your castle, to here. My car is still parked behind that building we were at to stake out the restaurant.”
Khove shook his head. “While you were in the hospital, I had your stuff brought over. It’s in the back seat. I told you that as we were leaving.” He paused. “You were just in a bit of a mood after I’d told you that you weren’t driving. Maybe it didn’t register?”
Rachel groaned. “You’re telling me it’s been back there this entire time?”
He nodded. “Of course. You acted like it was very valuable when we left the Sheriff’s office to go to the stakeout. I didn’t want to leave it behind. Do I get to find out what’s in it now?”
Shaking her head, Rachel went around to the passenger side, flipped the seat forward and gingerly hauled out a duffel bag with police markings on it.
“It only has a few things we could have used,” she said, opening it up.
Khove’s eyebrows went up as she removed her service pistol, several backup rounds of ammunition and a Kevlar vest.
“Is that a—?”
Rachel hefted up the assault rifle that was the piece-de-resistance. “Yeah. Could have used this earlier. Too bad somebody didn’t think to mention it when those pixies were threatening us.”
Khove just watched in silence as Rachel checked her weapons and donned the protective gear. “You’re kind of a badass,” he said at last.
Rachel hefted the assault rifle to one shoulder. “I try,” she said fiercely. “I’m not about to let you die on me too.”
He blinked. “Too?”
Something flared deep in her eyes, but she turned away, fiddling with the assault rifle. Khove leaned back against the side of the truck and just watched, trying to figure this strange woman out. Just when he thought they were opening up to one another, he found there were more walls in the way.
Pushing wouldn’t get her to open up. Not right now at least. Rachel was already on edge, and trying to pry would slam those doors shut in his face. If she wanted to talk, she would talk. So he waited patiently, saying nothing, keeping one eye on her, the other on the circle of darkness.
The only light they had was from the inside of the truck and its headlights. The engine was dead, but the battery still worked. For now.
“It’s why I left the city.”
Rachel’s voice split the silence that had descended over their little clearing. Khove looked up, focusing his attention. Whatever she was saying, it was important.
“Your partner,” he guessed, having made some deductions of his own.
“Yes,” she said heavily, still not looking at him. Instead, she stared ahead, into the depths of the darkness. “We were tight, the two of us. Five years we’d been partners, working the same cases, busting bad guys. One of the top-performing teams in homicide.”
Khove was impressed. He’d known she was good, but homicide was a tough department. His respect for Rachel went up another notch or two.
“We were going after this guy,” she said mournfully. “Some tweaked-out rich kid living on Daddy’s money.” Her voice faltered.
Reaching out, Khove squeezed her upper leg gently in support and reassurance. Talking about something like this, it had to be difficult. Whatever had happened, her partner’s death had pushed her out of the city entirely. That sort of thing, it left a mark upon one’s soul.
“We didn’t know it at the time as we cleared the house, but he was holed up in the security room. Bastard had cameras everywhere. He knew when we were coming. Where we were.” Rachel shook her head. “Vince didn’t make it.”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, meaning it. “Rachel, I…”
“I couldn’t take it after that,” she said, her voice haunted. “His wife, two kids. Seeing their faces at the funeral. It broke me.”
There was nothing more Khove wanted in that moment than to reach out and pull her into his arms. To hold her tight, tell her that it was okay, that she wasn’t to blame. Something stopped him though.
She needs to talk about this. To open up about her trauma to someone else.
“You haven’t told many people about this, have you?” he asked softly.
