Scarlet Rain Part 17

"This sickness is different, obvious," James said.

"And those who escaped from the hospital fled on foot. They can't be far," Alek said.

"You let some of those infected things get away? I thought you were Mister Kill-everything-evil-that-moves," Bridget chided.

Alek clenched his teeth and calmed his anger before speaking. "My job is not always as simple as you might think."

"He did save my a.s.s." James stared at Alek; his temples pulsed as he chewed on an imaginary wad of gum. "If it wasn't for him, I'd probably be one of those possessed things right now."

"Our son is a great warrior, but he will need your help if he is to defeat the Nosoi," Maiden said.

James grunted unintelligibly.

"We're here for him." Eva leaned against Alek's arm and intertwined her fingers with his. Warmth tingled up from his hand and lifted the corners of his mouth.

"Be careful, my son. Do not make the same foolish mistake that almost ended you last time," Mother warned.

"Sacrificing myself for the safety of the Oracle is something I will always be prepared to do." He gently squeezed Eva's hand.

"It is part of his duty," Maiden added.

"Becoming emotional is not a part of a warrior's duty," Mother seethed.

"Sister, you have stewed in your melancholy for decades. Open your eyes. Why would you wish that on our son?" Without waiting for a response, Maiden gathered her skirts and backed away, her watery figure splashing back onto the table.

Crone cleared her throat. "We will be going. Make haste, and remember to return home when you grow weary."

The room fell silent as the figures of the two remaining Furies burst apart and rained onto the table.

Twenty-Three.

Discomfort rested heavy in the air, and James squirmed under its oppressive shroud. "I have to get back to the station and act like none of this is happening."

If he'd been thinking about turning away from the ma.s.sive amount of crazy he'd unknowingly walked into, the look on Eva's face would have made him reconsider. "After everything you just heard, you're not going to help us?"

"Of course I'm going to help, but the best way for me to do that is to go back, do my job, and make sure no one finds out about what's really going on."

"Isn't it great having a man on the inside?" Bridget mused.

PJ groaned from the couch.

"s.h.i.t, I almost forgot about him." James carefully helped PJ into a seated position. "Hey, man. You slipped when we walked in. Took a hard fall and knocked yourself out. How are you feeling?"

"Confused," PJ croaked, rubbing at the bruise forming on his jaw line. "Didn't that guy hit me? And weren't they talking about an alien disease?"

"What? No."

"Yeah, this guy's just a big ol' teddy bear." Eva wrapped her arm around Alek and squeezed. "He'd never hurt anyone."

"Right, and there are no alien diseases from the Underworld. None at all. Absolutely zero." A wide grin stretched across Bridget's face.

James darted a quick, disapproving glance at Bridget. "But we should be leaving. I have to find my partner and get you to the station, right Peej?"

PJ blinked groggily at James. "Peej?"

"Yeah, that-that didn't work out so well." James draped PJ's arm around his shoulder and hefted him to his feet. "I'll keep in touch with you guys and let you know what's happening on my end."

Bridget rushed to the front door ahead of James and PJ and opened it so they could hobble out. "We're still going on that date after this is all over." The corners of her hazel eyes lifted with her smile.

"Of course. I'm looking forward to it." He smiled back, unsure whether or not he was lying.

James helped PJ into the elevator and, when they finally shuffled out of the building, propped him against a light post in the condo's visitor parking lot.

"Your friends are a little strange." PJ winced as he fastened the chin strap on his helmet.

"Yeah, they are my friends," he said, more to himself than to PJ. "And they're definitely strange." Happiness warmed James's chest, and he smiled to himself. He hadn't thought he would ever get that feeling back, not without Mel. But there he was, on a scooter in downtown Tulsa, a plague from h.e.l.l floating through the city, and James Graham was the happiest he'd been in a year.

Eva sank into the couch and threw her feet onto the coffee table. "That was a lot more intense than I expected."

"The Nosoi are formidable opponents," Alek said, plopping down next to her.

"And I have no idea how we're going to defeat them. I'm still a little confused about that part." She stretched her arms overhead and yawned.

"How about this. I'll go down to my car and get that box of books from the trunk. The Furies did say the books would be able to help us."

"Good idea, Bridge." Eva hefted herself off the couch. "I'll come with."

She shook her head. "Nah, you stay. I need a little breather. Hearing about all this stuff has got me kind of stressed." She grabbed her keys and flitted out the door.

Eva shuffled back to the couch and collapsed next to Alek. Awkward silence hovered around them, and Eva blurted the first comment that came to mind. "So, Mother, she's kind of tough. I get the feeling she does not like me."

"I must apologize if she made you feel that way. I am certain it's not about you. The issue goes much deeper than we know."

"I can't say that makes me feel that any better, but thank you." She rested her hand on his and let her fingers trace his thick callouses. "Bridget said that we're suffering from insta-love. Isn't that funny? Like you and I have real feelings for each other." Her gaze met his, and he stared at her so intently that she felt her cheeks get hot. "Why are you-"

Before she could complete her thought, Alek was pressed against her. The heat from his body brought goose b.u.mps to her skin. He slipped his hand into her hair and gripped the base of her neck, pulling her closer. Her body pulsed as his kiss deepened and became more forceful. She wrapped her arms around his broad back and traced the ripples of his muscles under the fabric. She moaned softly against his lips, letting him know she wanted more. She craved more. His thick fingers traveled up her waist, lifting her shirt above her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She felt his hands unclasp her bra, tossing it across the room. He left a trail of kisses down her neck to her collarbone. She let her gaze wander down the s.p.a.ce between them to the thick bulge in his pants. Closing her eyes, she arched into him as he teasingly nibbled her right nipple.

"Alek," she whispered, and he smiled against her skin.

"Well, I only had enough change for two of us to get caffeine." Bridget let out a high-pitched yip, and Eva's eyes flew open. "Oh! Sorry, sorry. I, uh, I think I forgot something in the hall." Eva heard Bridget leave, then immediately reopen the door. "After you put your clothes on, I'm totally high-fiving you, Eva. That's my girl!" The door closed for good this time, and Eva covered her blazing cheeks with her hands.

"How long do you think she will be gone?" Alek asked.

"Not long enough. At least, I'd hope not." Eva pulled her shirt down and wiggled out from under him. "But this is probably for the best. So much is going on with the police, and now the Nosoi. We shouldn't make it more complicated by adding s.e.x to the mix."

"Are you certain that is your decision?" He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Desire swelled within her as his tongue explored hers.

Bridget cleared her throat. "This may be a shock, but I find s.e.x to be an amazing stress reliever. Not better than a Xanax and a little booze, but really, what is?"

Eva pulled away from Alek and cast a sideways glance at Bridget.

"Yeah, I've been standing here awhile." She grinned.

"And you are so not helping," Eva sighed.

"Yes, yes I am. I have the books." Bridget struggled to lift the Whole Foods tote she'd crammed the remaining three books into.

Thankful for the distraction, Eva hurried to Bridget and s.n.a.t.c.hed the heavy bag from her grip. "Alek, we need to go through these and find anything that might help us."

"But first," Bridget said, her c.o.ke bottle hissing as she twisted the cap, "you need to find your bra. I mean, seriously, those things are all free and jiggling around like two fat puppies."

Alek chuckled lowly at Bridget's comment. Eva ignored them both, and plucked her bra from where it landed on the back of one of the dining room chairs. "When I come back, we're figuring out how to defeat those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, and I don't care if it takes all night." Hopeful for the future, and warmed by the saltiness of Alek's skin still lingering on her lips, she marched into Bridget's bedroom with a smile.

Twenty-Four.

James chewed on the end of his pen and stared blankly at the open file on his desk. "You've got to be f.u.c.king kidding me," he moaned, and dropped his head into his palms. "Immortal warriors, Tartarus, Oracles, infections escaped from the Underworld. There's no way any of this is true. I'm dreaming. I have to be. The longest, s.h.i.ttiest dream I've ever had, but that's okay as long as none of this is real." A paperclip bounced off his knuckles, and he glanced up to see Schilling glaring at him from across his desk.

"Is mumbling to yourself helping our case?"

James sighed. "Doesn't seem to be."

"Well, I've been shouting at your rookie a.s.s for at least five minutes. I talked to the captain a bit ago and we've got one h.e.l.l of a day ahead of us, starting off with a visit to Pierce's office. Seems like all the s.h.i.t that went down last night is connected to our case."

"The Kostas case?" James asked, trying to divert focus from what had happened at the hospital. "No, I'm sure it's not. I mean, how could that be possible?"

"Beats me, seeing as we've put that investigation on hold until we're able to find more evidence, or one of the suspects."

"Yeah, I know. I was just...."

"Dreaming? Maybe about whatever the h.e.l.l happened out in the park that you're still refusing to let slip?" Schilling pried.

James averted eye contact with his partner and busied himself with the papers on his desk.

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you're still holding out. Wouldn't want you to break up with me again," Schilling snickered. "Let's head over and see Pierce. She's got our bodies, and we're not getting anything done sitting on our a.s.ses."

James abandoned his plan to keep the hospital talk off-limits and asked, "But word is what happened last night at St. John's was all because of some nasty bug. Hospitals are breeding grounds for all sorts of bad stuff. We're homicide. What does that have to do with us?"

"Captain put it to me like this. We owe him for f.u.c.king up the Kostas case, and this mess didn't start at the hospital. It started with Tyson George, and it's our job to figure out why, which brings us back to possible homicide. Plus, he doesn't want our department getting squeezed out of all of this by some hospital bureaucrats or the CDC or whoever's going to pop up next and lay claim."

"Wait, the CDC could be involved in this? The actual Center for Disease Control?" A pit formed in James's stomach.

"Who do you expect to come to town when some nasty bug, as you called it, practically decimates an entire hospital? You were there. You should know how serious this is."

"I didn't go inside or anything. Stayed strictly on the perimeter," he lied. "Hey, what about contacting Monica and Tyson's friends and families? We skipping that today?" James held his breath, and hoped Schilling took the bait and changed the subject.

"You know me better than that, rookie. I don't skip. Winslow's got 'em covered," Schilling grunted as he hefted himself out of his chair.

"You're letting Winslow actually talk to people who knew Monica Carroll? Have you sat in on him questioning anyone before? He asks questions like he's on a terrible first date." James rolled his chair under his desk and joined his partner.

"Relax. I give him a hard time, and he usually deserves it, but he's got a good head on his shoulders."

The drive to the ME's office seemed longer than usual. Schilling babbled incessantly about his empty stomach, while James said a silent prayer that he and his new gang of somewhat super heroes would destroy this plague before the CDC or anyone else could get involved. He let out a deep sigh as his partner finally maneuvered the car into the wide parking lot.

"At least it's not hot as f.u.c.king h.e.l.l," Schilling griped as they shuffled to the entrance.

James hesitated a moment before opening the door to the ME's office. Nothing positive was ever waiting for him within the antiseptic walls. He readied himself and slipped inside.

"Hola," Veronica purred.

"You're back behind the desk." Schilling scooted around James and quickly waddled over to the attractive brunette's station. "I'd hoped you'd get to stay out in the field longer."

"So did I, but Kirby is back, and I have been banished." A pout pushed out her plump bottom lip. "But it is good to see you, Tom. And James, you're looking muy guapo today."

"Thanks, Vee. You're looking handsome too." James grinned at his ability to translate elementary Spanish. "Or, wait, no. You look-your top, it's very...." The fabric of her teal blouse stretched across her chest. Its small pearl b.u.t.tons seemed to cling to the threads for dear life. "Big. Blue! Blue is what I meant to say. Your top is very blue."

Schilling leaned into James and mumbled, "Now who sounds like they're on an awkward first date?"

"Anyway, I'm going to go back now. It'd be great if you could let Pierce know we're here," James said, making a hasty getaway.

Schilling burst through the swinging double doors after him, laughing heartily.

"Every time I come out here you two are giggling like it's social hour." Pierce crossed her arms over her chest and propped the door open with her foot. "Who knew investigating murder was so much fun? Clearly, I chose the wrong profession." She waited for them to enter before continuing. "The majority of bodies are being held at St. John's, and the few we have here are under tight quarantine. We're still collecting samples and running tests on the victims, including the original two from Terwilleger Heights. Nothing's come back yet, but I didn't expect it to so soon. However, I can tell you that Monica Carroll's cause of death, the blunt force trauma to her skull, was sustained in a fight with her husband, Tyson George."

"So the techs were able to recover a murder weapon?" Schilling asked.

"Not exactly." She paused to shake the loose strands of hair away from her eyes. "He used his fists."

"You're kidding," Schilling grumbled.

"Afraid not. I performed both autopsies myself, and reviewed my findings multiple times. I followed the evidence, and the evidence points to Tyson George."

"But you've seen her face, Pierce. How could he possibly have done that?" Schilling asked, astounded.

James thought back to the hospital, to the doctor, her rabid attempts to get at PJ even after he'd fired two bullets into her body.