Page 20 of Graveyard

“Ever since you broke that kid out of the hospital,” I mutter bitterly.

Graveyard sizes me up and shrugs. “You would have done the same, mon frere,” he says shamelessly. “She was in a desperate situation.”

“And her hot-ass sister had nothing to do with it,” Hex jokes, then immediately winces when he tries to laugh.

“You’ve never seen her,” Graveyard answers sharply while he packs up his medical supplies.

“My ghostly friend Cassandra is a huge gossip,” he shoots back with a smirk. “She says that your new ‘girlfriend’ is gorgeous. She hopes you two get married.”

“You’re both ridiculous,” Graveyard says matter-of-factly. “She’s not my girl, for one, and for two, I’ll never get married. Unlike you idiots, I have enough sense not to tie myself to an anchor and jump in the middle of the ocean.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grouse. “Continue your diatribe against marriage while you drive Hex to the hospital. I’ve got another matter to deal with.”

I stride out of the room, leaving the men to their own devices. With Hex in Graveyard’s capable hands, my next task is to hand Damien his ass. I find him in the bar, drinking like there’s no tomorrow. Buffy shoots me a look, and I motion for him to step away. This won’t be pretty.

“What the fuck happened tonight?” I ask Damien lowly. “Did you make it through the academy?”

“I’m sorry, Seer,” he says, his voice shaking. “I saw an opportunity to ask questions, and I just had to—”

“Get my best man put in the hospital?” I ask, furious. “And arrested! Forget the fight, how could you not step in?”

He looks at me in surprise. “I’m undercover,” he says, like I’m the idiot. Like I’m the one who fucked up.

“You’re on thin fucking ice,” I tell him. “If one more of my men comes back injured because of you, I’m throwing you to the wolves. I don’t care what my men do to me, but they’ll be out for your blood.”

He swallows hard, looking terrified. Good. He needs to understand there’s more than the investigation at stake. I didn’t agree to this so that he could get my men put in the hospital. I leave him to wallow at the bottom of the bottle, secretly hoping he literally drowns in his sorrow.

I hear her before I see her. Juliana loudly asks a nurse where I am and curses in Portuguese. I laugh, though some of that might be the drugs Graveyard’s friend gave me. Since Graveyard vouched for me, he gave me the good stuff. I can’t feel the pain in my arm. I can barely feel my arm.

The door bursts open, and in walks my wife, a look of sheer fury on her face. It would be terrifying if I wasn’t flying so high. I smile at her lazily. She storms over to me, taking my face in her hands with a concerned look.

“I was so worried, amor.” Her face is hard and angry despite her words. “Don’t ever do that to me again!”

She punches my good arm, but there’s no pain. I’m not sure if that’s because she didn’t hit me hard enough or because of the meds. Knowing her, though, there will be a bruise tomorrow. She’s rough in more ways than one.

I try to convey the depth of my sorrow to her. How the fight wasn’t my fault. That little shit, Damien, handed those guys my ass on a silver platter. If he wasn’t a cop, I’d punch him in the face. Then again, Pocus swore me to secrecy. I’m not supposed to know he’s a cop. The second my arm is healed, I will try him out as a punching bag. The thought makes me smile.

“I’m not mad you were in a fight, amor,” Juliana says darkly. “I know it’s an occupational hazard. I’m mad that you lost!”

I laugh and pull my wife down for a kiss. There’s that fiery spirit I love. When the doctor comes in to set my arm and put me in a cast, she holds my hand. Though I can’t feel much, the pressure is unbearable. I’m so glad to have her there with me. She’s the bright spot to this shitshow of a night.

I’m not released until the next morning. Juliana drives us back to the club. I must be flying high when I see the ghost Cassandra sitting on the porch with another little girl who looks to be a bit older.

“Come meet my friend Charlie,” Cassandra tells me with glee when I get out of the car.

Juliana looks at me with apprehension, and I try my best to explain the situation but my mind is a bit hazy at the moment.

“It’s nice to meet you, Charlie,” I say to the girl, then introduce myself and Juliana. “Cassandra thinks very highly of you.”

“She’s fun,” Charlie answers simply. “And she loves you a lot. She was really worried about you after your fight last night. I told her it was okay and you weren’t going to die.”

Juliana and I both eye the girl curiously. She says all of this to us as if it’s a normal conversation for a ten-year-old, but none of this is normal. For one, she’s much too old to be seeing ghosts. The fact that she can see Cassandra tells me that she’s incredibly special. Then there’s the way she spoke about me dying. She’s too young to be so insightful and empathetic. She’s full of contradiction.

“I’m glad you could be there for her,” I answer stiffly. My head is too fuzzy to process all of this. When I look at Juliana, she stares at the girl in admiration.

“You must be a very good friend,” she says in a sweet voice. “I know how much Cassandra worries about Hex. It was kind of you to reassure her like that.”

Charlie smiles at her and shrugs, almost bashful. Juliana approaches her carefully, asking if she can braid her hair. I realize as she says it that Charlie’s hair is a bit unruly. She looks like she could use a good bath. I know Pocus and Abigail are doing their best to take care of her, but they aren’t her guardians. I may have to have a word with Pocus about it.

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