Page 100 of Vital Signs
He took a final drag from the joint, then passed it to Misha. "But if you ever disappear like that again without telling me where you are, I will hunt you down myself."
"Fair enough," Misha agreed, accepting the joint. He took a deep drag, then held it out to me. An offering. A peace pipe. A symbol of something I couldn't name.
I accepted it, our fingers brushing. The touch zapped through me, brief, charged, impossible to forget. From Xander's knowing smirk, the moment wasn't lost on him either.
The door opened again, bringing a blast of warmth and the smell of food. Eli poked his head out, surveying the three of us. Relief crossed his face when he found no bloodshed.
"Annie says dinner's ready," he announced. "And she'll, quote, 'drag your frozen asses inside by your ears if you let her meatloaf get cold.'"
Xander laughed, the sound surprisingly genuine after the tension of moments before. "Wouldn't want to cross Annie when food is involved." He started toward the door, then paused, looking back at me. "You coming?"
The invitation wasn't just about dinner. It was about acceptance. Grudging maybe, and certainly conditional, but real nonetheless.
"Yeah," I said, stubbing out the joint. "I'm coming."
"Insulin overdose mimics naturalcauses," War said, arranging his silverware at perfect right angles to his plate. "Nearly impossible to detect without specific screening. Clean. Efficient."
"Crowbar to the head," River suggested.
"One bullet, well placed," Xion countered.
"Fire," Xavier said quietly.
Tatiana set her wine glass down with a sharp click. "This isn't just about how. It's about when and where." She examined the table, gaze moving from face to face.
Shepherd dabbed his lips with a linen napkin. "Fear has a flavor. True justice requires time to savor it properly. A man like Wright deserves to experience the full spectrum of what he inflicted."
Nikita cleared his throat. "Wright's security detail changes shifts at two. The window is narrow."
Annie refilled water glasses, her silver bob swinging with each precise movement. "The question remains whether to make an example of him or keep it quiet."
Hunter's jaw twitched as the family debated murder between bites of meat and potatoes.
"Wright showed up at the funeral home demanding Tyler's body," Annie said, passing a bowl of mashed potatoes around the table.
"Claiming legal ownership," Yuri corrected. "Like the boy was livestock."
"The consent forms are garbage," Nikita said. “Every judge in the county would throw them out without a bribe.”
"Wright only wants the body because it contains evidence," Shepherd said, eyes narrowing. "Tyler's tissue samples would reveal exactly what drug combinations Wright was testing."
War set his fork down. "He'll be back tomorrow with a court order, one way or another."
A heavy silence fell over the table.
My mind raced through options, discarding each one as quickly as it formed. Legal challenges would take too long. Hiding the body would only delay the inevitable. The image of Tyler on my table flashed through my mind—his tattoo, his binder, his dignity stripped away by a system that never saw him as human. I wouldn't let Wright violate him again. Not while I still breathed.
"Then we have only one option," I said, meeting each family member's eyes in turn. "We cremate Tyler's body before Wright can get his hands on it."
Annie nodded sharply. "Do it tonight."
River glanced at Yuri. "I can handle the cremation. Nothing in the logs."
"I'll oversee the process," Yuri agreed, wiping his mouth with his napkin. "The certificates can be backdated."
"The county held him for weeks before transferring him to us," River added. "Any required waiting periods have already passed. We're clear on the technical requirements."
"Wright will know what we did," War pointed out, eyes narrowing.
