Becoming Forever

Heather McVea

Copyright 2014 Heather McVea

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or event is entirely coincidental. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

About the author:

Heather McVea was raised in a small town south of San Antonio, Texas. Prior to escaping to the big city, she raised Hampshire pigs, rode motorcycles at entirely too young an age, and once snow boarded behind a Ford pickup truck. She relishes a strong gin and tonic, but leans after three. Shiny twinkly things make her cringe, up to and including Hollywood vampires.

Heather and her wife have three fur babies, and are drinking their way through all of the distillery tours in Texas. In between pints and the all too occasional Tanqueray Ten on the rocks, Heather is working on a standalone novel slated for release in January 2016, set in early twentieth century America.

Visit Heather’s website www.heathermcvea.com and follow her on Twitter @HMcVea.

Playlist:

Demons - Imagine Dragons

My Kind of Love - Emeli Sandé

Beneath Your Beautiful - Labrinth

Nothing Compares 2 U - Sinead O’Conner

Awake My Soul - Mumford & Sons

There’s a Light in Your Eyes - The Farstar

Nights in White Satin - The Moody Blues

Bonfire Heart - James Blunt

All I Want - Kodaline

Let Her Go - Passenger

Shake It Out - Florence + The Machine

I Wish I Was the Moon - Neko Case

My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark - Fall Out Boy

Also by Heather McVea:

Fallen Elements

Waking Forever Series

Waking Forever #1

Ela: Forever #1.1

Becoming Forever #2

Dying Forever #3

Coleen: Forever #3.1

Short Story

Turn Darkly

“I never change, I simply become more myself.”

-Joyce Carol Oates

Chapter 1

“Are you lifting at all?” Homicide detective Ashley Haines strained as she pulled the queen size mattress up the last step to her second floor apartment.

“I’m lifting, I’m lifting! Christ, Ash, it’s not a race.” Michael Haines had spent thirty-four years racing after his older sister. Though only three years separated the two siblings, Ash always seemed decades ahead of him in sports, academics, work and friends.

The only thing he had managed before his overachieving sister was meeting the love of his life, then settling down and having two beautiful children. Ash was resolutely single.

Ash peered around the side of the mattress with a mischievous smile. “So, if I let this go, you’ve got it?”

Michael’s eyes widened. “Don’t you dare!”

Ash shook her head, and pulled the mattress toward her. “That’s what I thought.” Michael knew better than to argue with her, and in particular while a hundred pound mattress bore down on him.

“Stow it and move, Haines.” Michael teased. “All this chatter makes me think you need a rest.” As the last word left his mouth, the mattress lurched out of his hands.

“Shit!” He grabbed at the loosely fitted plastic that encased the pleated fabric, before realizing the mattress was defying gravity and moving away from him, and up the stairs on its own. Looking up to see a smirking Ash pulling the mattress up and off of the stairs, Michael put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Show-off.”

Ash heaved the mattress around the corner of the landing on the stairwell, and slid it toward the door at the far end of the hallway.

“Hater.” She stuck her tongue out playfully at her brother. Michael turned and started walking down the stairs. “Hey, where are you going?”

Without looking back, Michael waved over his shoulder. “You clearly have this under control.”

Ash rested the mattress against the wall in the hallway as she fumbled in her jeans pocket for the key to her front door. “I shouldn’t have called you a hater, Mike.”

Her brother’s voice echoed up from the stairwell. “You mean that?”

Ash bit her lower lip and smiled.  “Absolutely. You’re clearly a bitter bug.”

A faint laugh filled the space as Michael opened the glass exit doors on the first floor. “See you later.”

The click of the door downstairs, and the ensuing silence signaled to Ash that her brother had left her to manage the mattress the last twenty feet into her apartment and back to her bedroom. In spite of her slight frame, Ash was nearly six feet tall in heels, and years of sports and exercise had afforded her more strength then her appearance would imply. She grabbed the mattress and easily slid it down the hallway towards her front door.

Unlocking and opening the front door, Ash muttered to herself as she took hold of the mattress. “I didn’t need his help anyway. The bum.” She had just pulled the mattress completely into the living room of her two bedroom apartment when the cell phone in her back pocket began to vibrate. Walking around to close the front door, Ash looked at the caller ID and frowned.

“You wouldn’t be calling me on a Saturday morning unless someone is dead.” She flipped the deadbolt on the door.

After a second of silence, a man’s baritone voice emanated from the phone. “I don’t even get a ‘yo’ before you start complaining?”

“I’m sorry, Cris. Yo.” Ash flopped down in a dark brown leather recliner. “Now that we’ve dispensed with the pleasantries, who’s dead?”

“What passes for pleasantries these days makes me sad, Ash. Did it occur to you maybe I called to shoot the shit with my partner? Why does it always have to be about death with you?” Cristelo Martinez was fifty-three, and had been a homicide detective with the San Antonio Police Department for over fifteen years. He had been Ash’s first and only partner since she was promoted to detective nearly four years ago in 2008, and over the years they had become friends. Ash appreciated his irreverence and overarching sarcastic attitude toward the most mundane aspects of life.

“We’re homicide detectives. I think the jig is up.” Ash grinned.

Cris laughed. “I’m not sure what jig you’re referencing, but a white male, mid-thirties named Paul Garrett was found badly mangled in his apartment.”

Ash stood up and side-stepped the mattress that was partially blocking her path back to the bedroom. “Text the address to me and I’ll meet you there.”

“Or - and I know this is novel - I can just give you the address now and you can write it down.” The familiar sarcasm was out in full force today.

“What’s this writing you speak of?” Ash bantered as she reached for the pad of paper and pen on the nightstand next to her bed.

“Giving as good as you’re getting today, Haines.” Cris chuckled.

“You caught me after my coffee.  So what’s the address?” Ash pulled the cap to the pen off with her teeth, and wedged the phone between her ear and shoulder.

“5450 Rowley Road. Near the Medical Center.” Cris said.

“Yeah, I know where that’s at. What’s the apartment number.” Ash wrote down the information and said goodbye to Cris.

Quickly stripping off her jeans and t-shirt, and pulling her thick, long brown hair into a loose bun, Ash took a quick shower before donning a pair of black slacks, a lite Kevlar vest, and a button-up grey fitted dress shirt. In spite of her 5’9” height, and because shoes were one of her few vices, she slipped on a pair of two inch black Cole Haan heels.

Unlocking the small floor safe in her walk-in closet, Ash clipped the black leather holster with the Glock 17 in it to the left side of her belt. On the opposite side, she clipped a black badge holder containing her gold detective’s badge and photo ID.

Stepping around the mattress, she shook her head at how often the nature of the work she had chosen left other aspects of her life incomplete. Outside of her family and a few friends like Cris from work, she didn’t have much of a social life. Walking to the parking garage adjacent to her apartment building, she was in fact having trouble remembering the last time she had been on an actual date.

As Ash put the key in the ignition of her four door hardtop silver Jeep Freedom, she remembered Melissa from the gym had been the last actual date she had been on, and that - to Ash’s dismay - was nearly four months ago.

Tuning the satellite radio to the South Texas sports channel, Ash listened to the pre-game show for her alma mater the University of Texas in their upcoming game with Oklahoma as she drove toward Paul Garrett’s crime scene. She had begrudgedly declined an invite from her older brother Jason to join him and his wife Katy in Austin for the game because she was on call this weekend.

She was the middle child and only girl between two brothers, who, along with her father James, were avid sportsmen. In return, Ash had grown up with an appreciation for nature and hunting. Her time during middle school and high school was spent playing every imaginable sport from soccer to tennis. During the various hunting seasons, she and her brothers would accompany their father to deer leases in north Texas. Ash remembered these trips fondly because it was always an opportunity for her to spend quality time with her father.

James Haines had been a fire fighter in San Antonio for nearly thirty years before retiring six years ago. It was in no small part his commitment to public service that had influenced Ash’s decision to become a police officer. Specifically, to return to San Antonio after completing her Bachelor of Science degree in Criminology to work in the community she had grown up in.

Pulling into the parking lot next to Paul Garrett’s apartment complex, Ash saw the crime scene investigator’s dark blue SUV parked near five patrol cruisers. She took a deep breath. No matter how many times she did this, it always gave her an uneasy feeling. She hoped that would always be her reaction to the brutality she witnessed all too frequently.

“The pen worked, I see.” Cris greeted her near the door to the apartment.

Ash ducked under the yellow crime scene tape as she flashed her badge at the middle aged patrolman guarding the entrance. “I got a cramp in my left hand, but it’s a small price to pay if it makes you happy.”

Cris nodded. “I don’t think there’s much that could make me happy right now.” He gestured for Ash to enter the apartment. “The mess in here is -” Cris shook his head. “Horrific.”

Ash’s brows furrowed and her stomach knotted. Cris had been in homicide a long time, and if this scene was bothering him, she couldn’t imagine how she would process it. She didn’t allow herself to display any outward signs of her hesitation and concern.

She had learned in her first year on the job never to show signs of the scene getting to you. It gave the people around you pause, and made them question how objective you were being when analyzing the evidence.

Ash walked into the spacious luxury apartment. Based on the furnishings and the apartment itself, it was obvious Paul Garrett had made a comfortable living. Considering how orderly the space was, he had also been very particular and neat. “Bedroom?” Ash looked at Cris.

“Bathroom.” Cris pulled a pair of blue latex gloves from his jacket pocket. “CSI is done; so we are clear to enter.”

Ash pulled a pair of white latex gloves from her pant pocket, and out of habit snapped them against her wrist as she pulled them on.

“Who called it in? And how long has the vic been dead?” She pulled a pair of blue disposable shoe covers from their box near the bedroom door, frowning as she slipped them over her Cole Haan heels.

“Female caller, anonymous, from a gas station payphone near IH-10 and Wurzbach. Based on the body temp and coagulation, he died sometime last night between eight and midnight.” Cris stepped aside as the two detectives entered the master bedroom.

Ash recognized Amanda Weis from the CSI division as she approached her and Cris. “Detectives.” Amanda and Ash had gone out a couple times nearly two years ago, and in spite of Amanda’s insistence there were no hard feelings when Ash called it quits, the petite redhead remained chilly whenever the two women’s paths crossed.

“Hi Amanda.” Ash smiled. She had sworn off co-workers after Amanda, and was being reminded now why. “What’s the story?”

Amanda frowned. “I’m doing well Ash, and yourself?”

Ash looked at Cris, who turned his head to mask his amused expression. She forced an exaggerated smile and emoted a sing-songy voice several octaves above her normal mezzo-soprano pitch. “I’m splendid, Amanda. Thank you for asking.”

Amanda huffed and turned her back to Ash and Cris. “Follow me.” The three walked to the doorway of the bathroom. Amanda stepped through the door, and then turned to face the detectives.

“Right, so - Paul Garrett, Caucasian male, age thirty six, as determined by identification found on the premises.  Time of death is estimated at sometime between eight PM and midnight yesterday. Victim was found naked and prone on his back in the shower stall of the master bathroom. Multiple lacerations, broken bones and -”

The rest of what Amanda was saying became a low hum in Ash’s ears as she tried to process the massive amount of blood, flesh and bone that littered the white tile floor of the bathroom.

Paul Garrett’s naked, lifeless body lay at an awkward angle with his upper torso in the shower stall, while what was left of his legs were sprawled on the bathroom floor. His once tan skin had taken on a sickly blue hue, except for the blackened and red areas where the skin had been punctured and ripped. His head was bent back at an unnatural angle, and both of his collar bones were protruding through the skin. Someone had taken the man apart.

Ash took several steps toward the body, and crouched down on her haunches. “Are those bite marks?”

Amanda, who had been writing down the bathroom’s dimensions on her CSI report nodded. “They are, but until I get the saliva analysis back, I’m putting source of the bites as inconclusive.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Cris stood in the doorway.

Clutching her wooden clipboard against her chest, Amanda sighed. “It means, detective, that we can’t assume they’re human. In fact -” the woman knelt down near the body, careful not to touch Ash. “The bite marks are irregular, and like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

Pointing at a particularly pronounced bite near where Paul’s neck and shoulder met, Amanda continued. “The puncture marks where I would expect the incisors to be are inordinately deep, almost as if -”

“The incisors were elongated?” Ash looked at Amanda.

Amanda nodded her head. “Yes. But if my initial measurements are accurate, the elongation would mean the perpetrator’s incisors would extend beyond the normal human bite radius by nearly a full inch. I’m thinking some type of prosthetic.”

“You mean someone was wearing dentures when they did this?” Cris shook his head. “That’s fucked up.”

Amanda stood up. “Actually, it’s not unheard of. There was a series of vicious murders during the seventies in the northeast Brazilian state of Para where the perpetrator – who was never apprehended - ate chunks of his victims, and it’s assumed wore a metal dental plate that left a bite pattern similar to what a vampire would leave.”

Looking away from the body and at Ash and Cris’ shocked expressions, Amanda cleared her throat. “Not that vampires exist, but if they did the plate would mimic -” Amanda bit the inside of her lower lip and went back to filling out her report. “Anyway - no sign of forced entry, wallet and other valuables are still on site.”

Cris walked over to the towel rack where a blue bath towel was neatly folded. “Is that blood?

Amanda glanced at the towel. “Yes. We think the assailant showered over the corpse, dried off and then left.”

Ash shuddered. “Then there should be DNA, hair, skin - all over his body?”

Amanda looked at the body. “You would think, but so far we haven’t found so much as a follicle. Not even under the nails.” She made a note on her report. “His nails are shredded though, like he was scratching at something very hard.”

Ash looked at the investigator. “Was he in a box or closet at some point?”

Amanda shrugged. “Not that we can tell.”

Ash shook her head and sighed. Looking at Cris who was crouched down next to the body. “Does that make sense to you?”

Cris stood up, and frowned. “It’s unreal.”

“Who’s the M.E., Amanda?” Ash continued to look at her partner. She could see from the confused expression on his face that he wasn’t able to make any more sense of this grotesque scene than she was.

Amanda pulled her iPhone out of the pocket of her jacket. “Ah, it’s Dr. Atman.”

Ash chewed on the inside of her cheek nervously. She had first met Dr. Emma Atman nearly three years ago at what had been one of the worst times in Ash’s life.

Chapter 2

Ash sprinted through the parking lot of the South Texas Medical Center toward the red, irradiated emergency room sign. She slowed down long enough to allow the automated glass doors to slide open, and then ran down the seemingly endless linoleum tiled hallway. The harsh fluorescent lighting cast a yellowish hue, and made the walls and floor seem surreal.

Glancing side-to-side, Ash didn’t see her father or brothers in either waiting area. An African American woman who appeared to be at least eighty sat behind a crescent shaped, elevated wooden desk, her face lighted by the computer monitor she stared intently at. Ash took a deep breath before speaking. “Elizabeth Haines? I was told she arrived by ambulance.”

The elderly woman glanced up at Ash, and then back at her monitor. “Let me see.” Ash fought the urge to turn the monitor, grab the keyboard and perform the search herself.

“Yes. She’s in bay three. You’ll need a pass to go back.” The woman slowly turned to her left and began sorting through a stack of name tag stickers. “I can print one for you if you have an identification, and then -”

Ash sighed, unclipped her detective’s badge and photo ID from her belt, and thrust the badge in front of the octogenarian’s face. “Is this sufficient?”

Before the woman could respond, Ash was briskly walking down the hallway into the emergency room itself. Rounding a corner, she saw her brother Jason and his wife Katy sitting in narrow chairs against the far wall. Nurses and doctors bustled back and forth.

“Jason. What’s going on?” Ash crouched down on her haunches in front of her brother and sister-in-law.

Jason shook his head. “I don’t know. We just got here, and they told us she was in with the doctors.”

“Where’s Dad?” Ash stood up and sat next to Jason.

Katy leaned across her husband and took Ash’s hand. “The station nurse said he was back with her.”

Ash looked toward where Katy had gestured and saw James Haines coming around the corner. James’ face was red and his eyes swollen. His usually broad shoulders sagged and his head hung. Without a word, Ash knew her mother was dead.

Jason and Katy stood in unison, and walked toward James. Ash hesitated. She wanted a few more seconds of hope. Hope that her mother wasn’t dead. Hope that her father wasn’t alone. She watched from what seemed like a hundred feet away, as Jason put his arm around their father’s shoulders and Katy took James’ hand in hers. Ash forced her feet to move through what felt like quicksand, and clutched her father’s other hand.

“What’s happened?” Ash whispered.

James looked up for the first time, his grey eyes filling with tears. “She’s - she’s gone.”

Katy cried out first, and then Jason gasped. Ash felt a wave of heat surge through her body. The room began to get very hot, and seemed to close in on her. She grabbed her brother’s shoulder to stop the spinning sensation.

“How?” Jason managed through tears.

James shook his head and stared off in the distance. “I had just left for a few minutes, and she was on the floor - I can’t.” James’ chest heaved as he took a deep breath. “She was dead when the ambulance arrived. They have to do an autopsy.” He covered his face with his hands as the sobs ensued.

Ash realized she was crying too, and wiped at her face. “Autopsy? Why?”

James sighed. “They said it’s standard when the death is unaccompanied.” James bit at his lower lip. “I - I had just gone to Starbucks to get her morning coffee.” James looked toward the chairs his daughter, son and daughter-in-law had just vacated. “I need to sit.”

Ash and Katy sat on either side of her father. Jason knelt in front of him, resting a reassuring hand on his father’s knee. Jason cleared his throat and looked at Ash. “Has someone called Michael?”

Katy responded. “I called him when I was driving over.”

As if on cue, Michael rounded the corner. “Dad. What’s happened?” He stood behind Jason, and looked anxiously between his father and Ash. James could only shake his head.

Ash stood and hugged her younger brother, whose hazel eyes had already begun to fill with tears. “Mom’s dead.”

Michael leaned away from Ash, his hands on her shoulders. “What? I can’t believe that.”

Jason stood and turned to face Michael. “I know. She’s so healthy and -” Jason’s voice broke and he pulled Michael to him, both men now crying.

Ash sat back down and putting her arm around her father’s shoulders, pulled him to her. “I love you. We’ll get through this, Dad.”

James looked up at his only daughter, and without saying a word, pulled her to him. “I can’t believe I’ve lost her.”

Ash wrapped her arms around her father. His broad shoulders shook as he cried, his tears soaking through Ash’s thin t-shirt. She had no words, and thought she must be in a type of shock. She had spoken with her mother a few days ago about organizing a bar-b-que at her parents’ house over the weekend. Her mother had been her usual enthusiastic and energetic self.

Elizabeth Haines had raised three children, and had deftly managed the emotional ups and downs of being married to a firefighter. Ash had always hoped for a relationship like her parents’. They were completely devoted to one another, but still entirely their own people. Her mother was active in her church and growing up, had always been involved in her children’s school activities and sports. Ash couldn’t remember a soccer game or track meet her mother wasn’t at. Always cheering her on. Congratulating her for a victory, or consoling her in defeat.

James and Elizabeth Haines had raised their children to be independent and entirely their own people. So, when Ash was twenty and sat both her parents down to tell them she was a lesbian, she was completely confident their reaction would be positive and supportive.

“We’ve suspected for a while, sweetie.” Elizabeth had sat a cup of black tea down in front of her daughter, and smiled reassuringly at Ash.

“How long is awhile?” Ash stirred a teaspoon of sugar into her tea.

James and Elizabeth looked at each other, and then James spoke. “We figured you were gay when you and your friend Carla became so close.”

Ash and Carla had been close, but they had never acknowledged feelings beyond friendship for one another. When Carla got pregnant during their senior year, the two girls had drifted apart. Carla was overwhelmed by the enormous responsibilities she was taking on, and Ash let her go because - if she was honest with herself - the reality of Carla having sex with a man had left Ash feeling rejected.

Ash took a sip of her tea. “Ironically, Carla and I never -” Ash looked hesitantly at her parents. “We were just friends.”

Elizabeth sat down at the small breakfast table adjacent to their galley style kitchen. “Oh, well, we assumed.”

Ash chuckled. “You assumed, but never asked?”

Elizabeth shook her head and looked at her husband. “That was for you to share in your own time. We have a strict policy to never interfere in our children’s romantic endeavors.”

Ash nearly choked on her tea. “What? You and dad were awful to Michael’s girlfriend Tanya a few years ago.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Well, dear, she was a bitch.”

Ash laughed. “Mother!”

Elizabeth grinned. “What? What did I say?” She looked at her husband who sat across the table shaking his head. “Well, she was.”

Ash got up and walked around the table. She knelt between her parents, and rested her arms on the back of their chairs. “I love you both. You’re wonderful, and I’m lucky.”

James turned to face Ash, and put his hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “We’re the lucky ones.”

The three stood, and hugged. Ash remembered thinking how differently that exchange could have gone had her parents not been so encouraging. She knew people who had lost their families when they came out, and she never took for granted the  acceptance she found with her own.

Sitting now in the emergency room, Ash’s arms were wrapped around her father because of a very different, far more dire circumstance. Leaning back so she could see his face, Ash managed to speak through her own tears. “I promise, we’ll get through this.” She was only vaguely aware of Katy handing her and James a tissue.

“Mr. Haines?” A tall, portly man in his late fifties, dressed in a lab coat stood just outside the semi-circle the family had formed around James and Ash. “I’m Dr. Freeman. We talked briefly when they brought Elizabeth in.”

James looked up, and wiped at his eyes with the tissue. “Yes.” Standing, James took Ash’s hand and put his arm around Michael. “These are our children. Ash, Michael, Jason and his wife Katy.”

Dr. Freeman nodded and smiled. “I am very sorry for your loss. I know the suddenness of it only adds to your grief.”

Ash wiped at her nose with a tissue, and squeezed her father’s hand. “What happened?”

“We think, given your mother’s condition when she was brought in, that she had an aneurysm.” The doctor hesitated. “She more than likely died instantly.”

A sob caught in the back of Ash’s throat, and she leaned into her father. Jason put his arm around her as he continued to hold Katy at his side. He cleared his throat. “So she wasn’t in pain?”

The doctor shook his head. “More than likely, no.” Looking at James, the doctor continued. “State law dictates an autopsy be performed, since she was in the home alone at the time of death. That should take about three days, and then she can be released for services.”

Ash had dealt with enough ER doctors in her work to know Dr. Freeman was one of the better ones. The fact he wasn’t referring to her mother as ‘the body’ put him well above some of his counterparts.

A few years ago, when Ash was still a patrol officer, her partner at the time had to pull her off of an ER doctor. The man had taken the opportunity to inform a distraught mother that her daughter might have survived the hit and run had she been wearing a bicycle helmet. The inference that the dead child had paid proportionally for her failure to adhere to bicycle safety rules had been too much for Ash. Luckily the doctor didn’t press charges.

Ash looked over at her father, and then her brothers. They were nodding as Dr. Freeman continued to explain the process. Ash’s mind wandered to her last conversation with her mother. They had argued over whether to have pork or beef ribs at the bar-b-que.

“Ma, we’re in Texas, and a pork rib is an appetizer here.” Ash had insisted.

“Ashley, you of all people should know size doesn’t matter. Besides, I prefer the taste of pork ribs.” Elizabeth had countered.

“First - eww to the size reference, and second why not do both?” Ash suggested.

There had been a long pause on the other end of the phone. “Well, all right then.”

Ash nodded. “Good. Gotta go. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Ash? Ash?” Jason’s voice broke into his sister’s reminiscing.

Ash shook her head. She realized Dr. Freeman had left, and her family was standing staring at her. “Sorry.”

“Mom had everything taken care of, so we really just need to get the obituary out and ensure people know.” Jason was always the one to lay everything out and organize the group. As the oldest, he tended to take charge of most family gatherings. Plus his chosen profession as an architect made planning and organizing second nature to him.

“Can you go through her email contacts? I’ll go through her phone list, and Michael will get on her Facebook account.” Glancing at his father, who had sat back down once the doctor left, Jason continued. “We can compare lists and then get the word out.” Ash and Michael nodded.

Funerals are for the living. Ash remembered her mother’s words as she left the hospital and walked back to her Jeep. Elizabeth had made the comment in passing when they were seeing to the arrangements for her great aunt. That was nearly ten years ago, and the chaos of that funeral had been what triggered both Elizabeth and James to pre-pay for their services and burials. In addition, the couple had taken the time to create a list of do’s and don’ts for their services.

“I don’t understand this open mic trend that seems to be going around, but Ashley, under no circumstances are you to let anyone - especially your Aunt Jean - get up and speak off the cuff.”

Ash chuckled at the memory as she sat in her apartment’s parking garage. She didn’t remember how she had arrived home, but sitting in the silence of her car, she laid her head back against the leather headrest.

A shudder began deep in Ash’s chest, and rumbled out to the edges of her body as the only plausible and right choice unfolded from her. Clutching the steering wheel, she sobbed until she was numb from it.

***

Ash walked through the metal detector at the main entrance of the Bexar County Medical Examiner’s Office. She intended to stay away while her mother’s autopsy was being performed, but she couldn’t resist.

Entering the non-descript two story beige building, Ash showed the African American security guard her badge and photo ID. “How are you doing this morning, Albert?”

Albert had worked at the examiner’s site for nearly fifteen years, and Ash had gotten to know him since she was promoted to detective a year ago. “I’m on this side of those glass doors; so pretty good.” Henry nodded toward the automated sliding doors marking the entrance to the Medical Examiner’s wing of the building.

Ash felt a lump form in her throat. “That’s the best any of us can hope for, Albert.” She managed a smile as she walked through the security checkpoint and the automated doors.

Angela Hernandez, a heavy set Hispanic woman in her mid-fifties, rose from behind a gray metal desk and rushed toward Ash. “Ash, I’m so sorry to hear about your mama.” Angela wrapped her full arms around Ash and gently rocked back and forth. “When I saw the exam list, I prayed it wasn’t true.”

Ash took a step back, and reached for Angela’s hand. She wanted to hold her emotions in check since this was an extension of her workplace, and Angela’s genuine outpouring of concern was tugging at the walls Ash had been working to maintain. “Thank you, Angela.”

Angela nodded, and looked sympathetically at Ash for several seconds. “Dr. Atman is the Deputy M.E. assigned to your mama.”

Ash shook her head. “I don’t know her.”

Angela stepped back around the desk, and thumbed through a stack of papers. “She’s only been with us for a few months. She’s friendly enough, but -” Angela bit her lower lip nervously.

“But what, Angela?” Ash sat on the corner of the desk.

Angela looked down the hall to ensure no one else was within earshot. “She’s a little hard to follow sometimes. Very proper and polite.”

Ash chuckled. “Good manners aren’t a crime, Angela.”

Angela nodded. “Oh, I know. I tell my grandbabies to make sure they say thank you and yes ma’am.” Angela frowned. “Also, she’s cold.”

Ash shrugged. “Well, doctors have to maintain emotional distance, and I’m sure as a medical exa -”

Angela shook her head. “No, no. She’s actually cold. When she started here they threw her a welcome party, and I shook her hand and -” Angela rubbed her forearms and shivered. “Her hand was ice cold.”

Ash shook her hand. “I’m sure it’s all the hand washing she has to do in her line of work.” Ash stood, and patted Angela’s shoulder. “Be grateful. It means she’s fastidious.” Ash winked. She liked Angela, but the older woman didn’t have much to do since the county’s record keeping had been transferred to a vendor database. She was only a few years from retirement, and the county had decided to keep her on so she would get the entirety of her pension. “I’ll see you later, Angela.”

Angela hugged Ash again. “You take care, mija. You and your family are in my prayers.”

Ash smiled.  She left Angela and walked down the hall toward the medical examiners’ office. She came to a closed door with a brass name plate that read in black block lettering ‘Emma W. Atman, M.D., D.M.E., Ph.D.’. Ash muttered to herself as she looked at the name plate. “Jesus. It’s a damn alphabet after her name.” Taking a deep breath, Ash knocked on the door.

“Come in.” A woman’s voice responded in a light falsetto tone.

Ash opened the door. The office was relatively small, roughly the size of the average bedroom. A walnut writing desk that by Ash’s estimates was Civil War era sat in the center of the room, with a high back leather chair behind it. Along the right wall of the office were wooden floor to ceiling bookcases.

Standing in front of the bookcases was a beautiful blonde woman in her later thirties. She was around 5’5” tall, with a lean athletic build. Her skin was pale and flawless, complimenting her angular jaw and perfectly proportional pink lips.

Ash felt her heart rate rise as the most intense blue eyes looked at her. “Yes? Can I help you?” The doctor was wearing a set of green surgical scrubs with a white lab coat, her thick blonde hair was pulled back in a loose pony tail, and she stood with a stack of books in her hand.

Ash managed to walk the rest of the way into the office, leaving the door open behind her. “Hi. I’m Detective Ashley Haines.” The doctor smiled, revealing perfectly straight and remarkably white teeth. She put the books down on a small cherry wood end table near the only window in the room.

Emma extended her hand as she walked toward Ash. “Oh, hello. I’m Dr. Emma Atman.” Ash took her hand and realized instantly what Angela had been saying about the coldness of the doctor’s touch. Emma released Ash’s hand and looked curiously at her. “Am I working one of your cases detective?”

Ash shook her head. “No, well -” Ash willed the words to form and exit her mouth. “You’re working on my mother. Elizabeth Haines.”

Emma frowned, her eyes flashing a brilliant blue as her brows furrowed. Against Ash’s will, tears filled her eyes. All the condolences and outpouring of concern she had experienced in the past few days paled in comparison to the pure and genuine concern this complete stranger had just conveyed in a single glance.

When Emma spoke, her tone was quiet and soothing. “Detective Haines, I am so sorry.”

Ash wiped at the tears as they began to stream down her cheek. “Thank you. I shouldn’t have come, but -” Emma pulled several tissues from a box on the corner of her desk and handed them to Ash. “Thank you.”

Emma placed her hand lightly on Ash’s shoulder and guided her to the lone chair in front of her desk. “Please sit down. Can I get you a glass of water?”

Ash shook her head as she wiped her nose with the tissue. She hated that she was doing this in front of a co-worker, even one she’d just met. “No, thank you. Just give me a minute.”

Emma nodded. “I need to go pull a file. I’ll be back shortly.”

Ash looked up as the doctor left the office, shutting the door behind her. Relief washed over Ash now that she was alone, and not feeling so exposed and vulnerable. Angela was right again. Emma Atman was very polite, and had done her a great service, allowing her time alone to recover and save what dignity she had left.

As the crying slowly receded, Ash began to look around the office. It was remarkably tidy in spite of its relatively small size, and given the amount of books and papers dispersed throughout the space. The walls were adorned with certificates, including Dr. Atman’s medical diploma from Vanderbilt University and her Certificate of Residency from the University of Missouri in Columbia for Pathology. Ash’s eyes scanned the remainder of the wall and found Emma’s Doctorate in English Literature from Princeton University.

Nothing like being an underachiever. Standing up, Ash was drawn to a painting on the wall behind the doctor’s desk.

A woman wearing a long light blue dress, with her hair blonde pulled up in a bun indicative of the antebellum period, was kneeling next to a young Union soldier. The man was prone on a thin hay stuffed mattress. As Ash looked closer, she realized the man was in fact only a boy of maybe thirteen. The woman was tending to his right arm, which had been amputated and was swollen with an angry looking incision. The look of concern on the woman’s face was reminiscent of the look Dr. Atman had just given her.

Ash was startled by the faint knock on the door. “Yes?”

The door opened and Emma peered around the door. Seeing Ash was more composed, she walked into the office. “Detective Haines, I pulled your mother’s file.” She walked around the desk and sat in the leather chair. “Please.” The doctor gestured for Ash to sit in the chair she had been crying in only moments before.

She’s not going to talk about the crying. Thank God. Ash was relieved as she took a seat. “I know you aren’t allowed to disclose the autopsy results before the final report is filed, but I hoped -”

Emma flipped the manila file open. “Of course.” She smiled professionally as she began to skim the contents of the folder.

“Your mother died from a ventricular aneurysm. Which -” Emma looked up at Ash. “Is usually associated with complications from a heart attack, but looking at your mother’s medical history, I didn’t see any evidence she had suffered a myocardial infarction.”

Ash nodded. “If it wasn’t caused by a heart attack, then what?”

Emma looked at the file again, and absently chewed at the inside of her lower lip. “Genetic abnormality in the lining of the heart muscle caused the bleeding and the subsequent clot that killed her.”

Ash was having trouble focusing on what the doctor was telling her. Her emotions were all over the place, and the fullness of Emma’s lips was distracting. “She never had any issues.”

Emma nodded, closed the folder and placed it on her desk. “Unfortunately, some irregularities are asymptomatic.”

Ash looked down at the brown carpet that covered the office floor. “It was just waiting.”

“Pardon?” Emma leaned forward and put her elbows on the desk.

Ash shook her head. “I mean she had this thing inside her for probably years, and didn’t know it was just out there - waiting.”

Emma leaned back in her chair. “Please don’t think me insensitive, detective, but there’s something waiting out there for all of us.”

Ash’s eyes widened as she looked at Emma. “Of course.” She stood up and walked to the door. “Dr. Atman, thank you for the information, and -” Ash blushed and nodded toward the box of tissues. “And the other thing too.”

Emma walked around the desk and held the door open for Ash. “Call me Emma, and it was no trouble.”

Ash nodded and started her walk back to her car. In spite of having the answer to her mother’s untimely death, the knowledge gave her no solace, and she felt the grip of grief tightening around her chest.

Getting into her car, Ash remembered a line by one of her mother’s favorite authors, C.S. Lewis. No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.

Chapter 3

Ash and Cris approached the front door of Paul Garrett’s parents’ house. It was a ranch style single story residence built in the 1950’s, and indicative of the northeast San Antonio neighborhood the couple resided in. Remembering her own mother’s death from three years ago, Ash felt particularly sympathetic to the Garretts and the loss of their only son.

“Isn’t this the neighborhood that has a deed restriction requiring Christmas lights every year?” Cris asked as he finished his early afternoon five hour energy drink, and tucked the small empty plastic bottle in his jacket pocket.

Ash looked the house over as they walked up the stone walkway toward the front door. “Yeah. My parents used to drive us through here every year, and now my brothers bring their kids here.” Ash straightened her jacket before ringing the doorbell. “I guess it’s become a bit of a tradition.” She pressed the small metal button to the right of the wood and glass door.

“Forced merriment. Neat.” Cris smirked.

Ash smiled at her partner. “Bah, humbug.”

The door opened, and a tall man with peppered gray dark hair stood in front of the two detectives. In spite of the dark circles under his eyes, evidence of his recent tragedy, Jonas Garrett was a handsome man, dressed simply in a pair of tan khakis and a white polo shirt. He looked at Ash and then at Cris.

“You must be the detectives that called earlier?” Jonas asked.

“Yes. Mr. Garrett. I’m Cristelo Martinez and this is my partner Ashley Haines.” Cris unclipped his badge and photo ID from his belt, and held it in front of Jonas. Ash quickly followed suit.

Jonas looked carefully at each badge, and then stepped to the side, gesturing for the detectives to enter. “Please come in. My wife has tea for us on the patio.”

Ash couldn’t help but smile. Given Jonas’ accent, it was clear he was from Texas, and regardless of the reasons for his current house guests, southern hospitality mandated iced tea or coffee be offered to a guest.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Garrett.” Cris said as he and Ash followed the man toward the back of the house.

Ash looked around as they made their way through the living area, den and through the kitchen to a set of pine French doors leading to a covered patio. Clearly Paul had come by his penchant for cleanliness from his parents. The house was tastefully decorated in an Arts and Crafts style reminiscencent of Frank Lloyd-Wright architecture. It was simple without unnecessary decoration or ornamentation.

Evelyn Garrett sat in a wrought iron patio chair with a burgundy cushion. The petite, brown haired woman stood to greet Ash and Cris. “Detectives, welcome. Please, have a seat.” Ash and Cris sat on two of the four chairs set up around a square wrought-iron table. “I’ve made iced tea, but if you would prefer coffee, I can brew a pot.”

Ash and Cris both shook their heads. “No thank you, Mrs. Garrett. The tea is perfect.” Ash smiled as she leaned back in the chair, crossed her legs and opened the cover of her iPad. Evelyn began pouring the tea from the clear glass pitcher into four tall glasses.

Cris cleared his throat. “Mrs. Garrett, I’m Cristelo Martinez, and this is my partner Ashley Haines.” Evelyn nodded as she leaned across the table to place a glass of iced tea in front of Cris. Ash could see the dark circles were under her eyes as well.  “We want to ask the two of you about Paul, and get a list of any friends, acquaintances and co-workers we would be able to meet with.”

Jonas, who had sat in the chair next to Ash, leaned forward. “You can’t think this was anyone Paul knew.”

Cris nodded. “Sadly, the odds that Paul knew his killer are pretty good.”

Evelyn shook her head. “The fact my son has a killer is just -” The woman sat down heavily, and slumped on the armrest of her chair. Jonas reached over and covered his wife’s hand with his own.

“I can get you a list of people we knew. But you’ll want to go to his office for any work related individuals.” Jonas said. The tension in his voice was obvious.

Ash had been looking intently at Evelyn, whose eyes were red as she turned her attentions to Jonas. Ash’s heart rate was up, and she felt hot. This happened nearly every time they talked to parents or spouses. Ash managed her empathy as best she could, but there had been more than one occasion where she had to excuse herself from the interview under the guise of taking a call.

Cris always knew when the intensity of the scene had gotten to his partner, and would assure her afterwards that over time it got easier. Ash wondered if that was a good thing.

“Paul was an analyst at Pierce and Pierce? Is that correct?” Ash asked as she reached for the glass of iced tea.

Jonas nodded. “Yes. His assistant is -” The man took a deep breath. “His assistant was Delores Reed. I have her number, and she can put you in contact with a good portion of Paul’s social and professional circles.”

“Has anyone told Sara yet?” Evelyn looked at her husband as the tears she had been trying to squelch began spilling over.

Jonas handed his wife a cloth hankie from his back pant pocket. “I left her a message yesterday, and Delores is following up.”

Ash tilted her head to the side, as she jotted down Delores’ name. “Sara?”

Evelyn sighed. “Sara Glass. She and Paul have been seeing one another for -” Evelyn turned to her husband. “What Jonas, three years?”

“Give or take.” Jonas pulled his cell phone out of his side pant pocket. “I have her phone number here.”

“And what does Ms. Glass do for a living?” Ash asked.

“She’s an attorney at a family practice. Wonderful woman.” Evelyn put her glass of tea down.

Ash made a note on the iPad as Cris continued with the standard questions. Listening to Paul’s parents talk about their only child, it was clear to Ash they had been very proud of him. It was also clear, based on some of the gaps in timelines around Paul’s day-to-day activities, Jonas and Evelyn had not been as intimately involved in their son’s life as they might have thought.

This wasn’t uncommon with adult children. Parents tended to see their sons and daughters through a lens that was mostly nostalgia for the child they had known, with very little of the reality of who the adult was. Ash had learned there was little value in asking a parent about significant others, or possible affairs. The parent rarely, if ever had a realistic idea of who their child actually had become.

The case that had driven this fact home for Ash the most was a murder-suicide she had worked with Cris a year ago. The man had shot his girlfriend, and then turned the gun on himself. When Cris and she had talked with his elderly parents, they had no idea the man had left his wife and their grandson for the now dead girlfriend, or that their son had been fired from his job as a manager with Enterprise Rent-A-Car.

Ash could still remember the distraught and shocked expressions on those parents’ faces as they tried to comprehend not only the horrible crime their son had perpetrated, but also the fact they didn’t actually know their own child.

Cris and Ash completed their interview with the Garrets, and walked back to their non-descript black Ford Crown Victoria in silence. Ash slid into the driver’s seat as Cris fastened his seatbelt. “That was depressing as hell.” Cris stated matter-of-factly.

Ash nodded as she started the car. “Always is.”

“So I’ll take the four friends he travelled with if you want to talk with the co-workers?” Cris asked as he flipped through his red Mead notepad.

“Sure. I can double back with the girlfriend after?” Ash checked her side mirror, and slowly pulled into the residential street. “Unless you want to take that?”

Cris shook his head. “No, no. Not in the mood for a hysterical woman.”

Ash huffed. “Sexist.”

Cris smiled as he wrote several notes down. “No. Experienced.”

Ash pulled the car to a stop at a traffic light leading out of the Garrett’s neighborhood. “What about the boyfriend in the Miller case last month?”

Cris shrugged. “You can’t count him. He’s gay.”

Ash turned and looked at her partner. “Wow - just wow.”

“I’m a bastard.” Cris chuckled. “And you have a green light.”

Ash drove the car forward. “I only let you get away with that sort of shit because you’re old and don’t know any better. Your generation -”

Cris scoffed. “I beg your pardon, but when did fifty-three become old?”

Ash glanced at her partner. “Fine, have it your way. You’re a homophobic bastard.”

Cris slipped his notepad into the inside pocket of his jacket. “Wait, what are my choices again?”

“Old and misguided, or homophobic prick.” Ash stated casually.

“Can you phrase that in the form of a question, please?” Cris smirked.

Ash couldn’t help but laugh. “Nice.”

Cris let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. Let’s not fight. I’ll grant you that I have seen many men lose their shit over the years, but I will say it’s proportionally less than women.”

“Maybe because men are more likely to kill and maim one another, leaving a distraught woman behind.” Ash countered. “You’re a violent lot, partner.”

Cris pursed his lips in mock consideration. “Agreed. Can we get a Starbucks?”

***

Pierce and Pierce Venture Capital occupied the third floor of a ten story office building near the north central part of San Antonio. Ash walked into the main lobby, which consisted of an overabundance of plants and marble. It reminded Ash of a tomb.

She walked toward the marble desk, which was being manned by a white man in his early twenties. Pulling her badge from her belt, Ash smiled as she held the credentials in front of her. “Good afternoon. I’m Detective Ashley Haines with the San Antonio Police Department. I would like to see Thad Rooney with Pierce and Pierce please.”

The young man stared blankly at the badge and photo ID. “Ah, yeah. You need an appointment. Do you have an appointment?”

Ash looked at the man’s name tag, and then tilted her badge back and then forward. “Chip - this means I don’t need an appointment.”

The man’s mouth hung open slightly as he looked up at Ash. “I’ll buzz you up.”

Walking toward the bank of elevators, Ash shook her head. “I weep for our future.”

The reception area of Pierce and Pierce was ornate, with overstuffed leather chairs lurking in every corner, and fresh floral arrangements on each of the three glass tables. Ash sat in the chair closest to the elevators while she waited for Thad Rooney, the COO of the firm, and Paul Garrett’s manager.

Ash assumed the middle-aged Caucasian man in the crisp navy blue 3-piece suit walking quickly toward her was Rooney.

“Detective Haines?” The man thrust his hand out, and shook Ash’s with far too much enthusiasm and force.

Calm down guy, you’re not selling me anything. “Mr. Rooney. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

“No problem. We’re all devastated by Paul’s death.” He began walking back toward the main floor of the firm, and Ash took several quick steps to catch up with him. “I assumed you would want to talk to his assistant, Delores? She’s really going to be able to walk you through Paul’s schedule, dates, et cetera.”

“Initially, yes.” Ash followed the man into a large corner office with picture windows. “Based on that exchange, I’ll then determine who else I need to speak with, along with what documentation I may need from Pierce and Pierce.”

Thad sat down behind his desk, and gestured for Ash to sit in the chair across from him. “I can’t imagine what you would need from the firm. Clearly the tragedy had nothing to do with Paul’s work at Pierce and Pierce.”

Ash opened up her iPad and reached for her stylus. Thad Rooney had just unintentionally started his interview. “Why is that clear?”

Thad leaned forward in his high-back leather chair. “Well, from what the news reported the scene was an absolute mess. There’s no one in the firm capable of such atrocities.” He leaned back, cupping his chin with his right hand. “It was just awful.”

Ash nodded, and made several notes about overall tone and tenure of the interview. “Mr. Rooney, where were you last Thursday?”

Thad’s eyebrows shot up. “Me?”

“Yes, sir.” Ash stopped writing.

“You can’t mean to imply -” Thad stammered.

Ash shrugged. “I know it’s seems silly, but I just have to ask these questions.” Ash nodded toward her iPad.

“Well - I, of course.” Thad leaned forward and hit a button on his phone. “Emelda, can you please print my schedule for last Thursday and bring it in, please?” Not waiting for a response, he released the call button.

“Any interoffice politics or conflicts between Mr. Garrett and other members of the firm?” Ash asked.

“Well, the business is competitive, and after the downturn in 2008, the pool got shallow. But Paul did well in spite of that. He was very competitive, and competent.” Thad smiled.

“Mr. Rooney, you didn’t answer my question. Politics, conflicts with other team members?” Ash looked directly at Thad.

Shifting in his chair, Thad shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

Ash nodded. “Any clients that were unhappy with Mr. Garrett?”

Thad looked up at the ceiling and contemplated. “No. He had a very clean book of business.”

Ash smiled. “Great. Now if you could show me to Delores Reed’s desk, and I’ll take that schedule from Emelda.”

Thad stood up quickly. “Of course. Follow me.”

Ash stood and waited for Thad to come around the desk. She followed him out his office door where he was greeted by a thin, forty-something redhead who, without speaking, handed him a sheet of paper.

Thad turned to Ash. “Detective, my schedule. It includes contact information should you find it necessary to talk to any of the individuals listed.”

Ash thanked him.  She followed him through several rows of cubicles and then back down a hallway lined on the left side with offices. At the end of the hall was a short, heavy-set Hispanic woman in her late fifties. She was sitting at a glass-topped desk with three computer monitors, and behind her was a metal shelf with numerous framed photos of children and adults. Ash assumed they were her family.

“Delores, this is Detective Haines. She is here about Paul, so please help her with whatever she needs.” Thad smiled, and started to walk away but then turned back to Delores.

“If she should need any proprietary information, please let me review the request before providing the detective with the documents.” Thad turned to Ash. “Standard procedure.”

Rooney had been relatively helpful so far, and it was because of that Ash decided not to point out to him all she would need to do was get a subpoena and his approval would be moot. “Of course.”

Thad Rooney smiled, the muscles in his jaw clenched. “Good day.”

“It’s terrible about Mr. Garrett. His family has been in my prayers.” Ash’s attention was brought back to the short woman behind the desk.

Ash nodded. “I know. Were you close?”

Delores smiled. “He was a very good boss.”

Ash squelched the urge to roll her eyes. It seemed at Pierce and Pierce the ability to answer an actual question asked was a commodity neither the senior leadership nor the subordinates traded in. “Is this Mr. Garrett’s office?” Ash pointed to the closed door to Delores’ left.

“Yes. Would you like to see it?” Delores got up, and took a pair of keys from her file cabinet, and unlocked the door.

Ash followed her into the office, which was considerably smaller than Thad Rooney’s. With the large picture windows, though, the office had a decent view of the city’s skyline. “Has the office been locked since Mr. Garrett’s death?”

Delores walked toward the mahogany desk at the center of the room. “Yes, but the custodial staff has keys; so I can’t say if they have been going in and out at night.”

Ash nodded, and walked around the desk. She opened on several drawers, and was surprised none of them were locked. Then again, there wasn’t anything in the drawers except pens, and a few packs of Altoids. “Did you empty the desk?”

Delores shook her head. “No. Mr. Garrett was very tidy, and the company encourages a paperless environment.”

Ash shook her head. “So everything is on a server? Appointments, contacts?”

“Yes. I can get you his contact list and his appointments.” Delores pulled a small touchscreen phone out of her pocket, and began typing. “What’s your email address, Detective Haines, and how far back would you like his calendar?”

Ash liked Delores Reed. She seemed efficient and genuinely distraught over Paul Garrett’s death. She had interacted with assistants in the past that struggled to hide their relief at their boss’ demise. Evidently, in spite of being wound a little tight to Ash’s way of thinking, Paul was a nice man. “Here’s my card with the email address. Six months back will be fine.” Ash smiled at the older woman.

“How are Jonas and Evelyn holding up?” Delores asked as she took the card.

Ash wasn’t inclined to talk about other interested parties, but the question was asked innocently enough. “They are obviously upset.”

“And Sara?” Delores slipped the phone and card into her side pant pocket.

Ash shook her head. “I haven’t spoken with Ms. Glass yet, but since you bring her up, what was their relationship like?”

Ash sat in the chair behind Paul’s desk, and opened her iPad up. Stylus in hand, she looked intently at Delores who sat down in the chair across the desk. “Sara is a very warm woman. I have only met her a few times over the years at firm dinners, holiday parties - you know the usual events.”

Delores shifted in the narrow chair, her wide hips rubbing against the arms. “But I got the impression over the past few months they weren’t seeing much of each other, or at least not exclusively.”

Ash’s eyebrow shot up as she wrote. “Why do you say that?”

“Mr. Garrett had appointments on his calendar after hours with a woman named Michelle. I assumed they weren’t professional since they were for the Majestic Theatre and numerous restaurants.”

Ash nodded. “Can you please make sure Michelle’s contact information is included in the information you send me?”

“Mr. Garrett never input that information on his work phone or email list.” Delores said apologetically. “Another reason I assumed she was a personal acquaintance.”

Ash frowned, and wondered if Paul was cheating on Sara Glass. Maybe this was a love triangle with a horrific outcome. “Okay, Ms. Reed. I’ll look for the requested information by end of business today?” Ash got up and put her stylus back in her jacket pocket.

Delores stood. “I’ve already sent it to you, detective.”

Very efficient. “Thank you, Ms. Reed. Now I would like to talk with a few of Mr. Garrett’s co-workers. Who’s in the office across the hall, and the one next door?”

“Andrew Raymond is across the hall, and the office next door has been vacant for nearly a year.” Delores walked toward the door.

“Perfect. Can you have Mr. Raymond join me, please?” Ash asked.

Delores nodded, and left the office. Ash leaned back in the chair and looked around the space. It was spotless, and had no touches of personalization that might give her insight into Paul’s attitudes or habits. Except the fact he spent his days in a room he hadn’t cared, or thought enough of to decorate with anything relevant to who he was, said a lot about the man.

“Detective Haines.” Ash looked up to see a short, broad shouldered Caucasian man in a badly sized suit with thinning brown hair walking toward her. “I’m Andrew Raymond.” He reached across the desk and vigorously shook Ash’s outstretched hand. He then moved his eyes down to her breasts and then back up again quickly.

Ash exhaled, and sat back down. “Have a seat, Mr. Raymond.”

“Please call me Andrew.” The short man crossed his legs as he sat.

Ash managed a weak smile. “Thank you. How closely did you work with Mr. Garrett?”

“Oh Paul and I were pretty good buddies. Nothing too involved, occasional Spurs game, drinks - that sort of thing.” Andrew gave Ash an exaggerated smile, revealing overly white teeth.

“Any idea who might have done this, Mr. Raymond?” Ash knew continuing to use his last name was petty, but she wasn’t interested in anything informal with this man.”

Andrew hesitated. “Detective, please - Andrew.” Another cheesy grin. “I don’t have a clue, and can’t imagine it was anyone Paul or I would have known.”

Ash made a quick note on her iPad. “Did you ever meet Sara Glass?”

Andrew nodded, a smug look crossing his face. “I have had the pleasure. I think at last year’s Christmas party.” He shifted slightly in the chair. “Beautiful woman.”

Ash’s eyebrow arched as she looked up at Andrew. “What about Michelle?”

The man frowned. “Michelle? Hmmm.” He looked toward the ceiling. “Yes. I ran into her and Paul at the Palm downtown a few weeks ago.”

Ash was suddenly interested. “Do you happen to know her last name, or know where she works?”

Andrew shook his head. “Sorry. It was a brief exchange.”

“And where were you last Thursday?” Ash glanced up at the man.

“On a date, detective. My assistant can get you her info.” He winked at Ash.

Ash sighed, and exited out of her memo. “Fine, Mr. Raymond. If you remember anything else, please give me a call.” She handed him her card.

Andrew took the card, and studied it for a few seconds. “Any objections to me calling you even if I can’t remember anything else?”

Ash forced a thin lipped grin. “The objections would be too numerous to count.”

The man’s exaggerated grin faded immediately, and Ash thought she might have heard his ego deflating. “Oh, I -”

Ash stood and walked around the desk toward the door. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Raymond.” Not waiting for a response, Ash left the office.

***

Like her boyfriend, it was clear Sara Glass made a comfortable living. After being asked twenty questions by the doorman, Ash had been permitted access to the resident’s elevator. The high rise the attorney lived in was notoriously expensive in a city where a new large four bedroom house only cost a quarter of a million dollars. The Broadway offered fantastic views of the city, and every amenity money could buy, but from what Ash had read in the local paper, a one bedroom could set you back nearly half a million dollars.

Ash had intentionally not called ahead to request an interview with Sara. She had found giving people little to no time to prepare their answers, or form preconceived notions about the interview process, provided for more candid answers.

The hallway from the elevator to Sara’s condominium was carpeted with thick, beige wool Berber style carpet. The pine colored trim that ran throughout the hall complimented the expensive carpet, as did the numerous prints and paintings strategically placed along the walls. Looking at the stainless steel and glass wall sconces, Ash was certain she couldn’t afford to live in Sara Glass’ hallway.

Ash pressed the doorbell button, then straightened her gray jacket as she waited. The woman who opened the door was not what Ash had expected. Where the Broadway verged on pretentious by San Antonio standards, Sara Glass was entirely unassuming in her appearance. She was in her early thirties, with blonde hair pulled back in a loose knot at the base of her long neck. She had a slight tan, clear blue eyes, and was wearing a pair of faded Levi’s jeans and a gray scoop neck t-shirt.

Sara was attractive, and the genuine smile she offered Ash only added to her appeal.

“Ms. Sara Glass?” Ash asked as she reached for her badge and photo ID.

“Yes. Detective Haines?” Sara continued to smile as she glanced at Ash’s photo.

“May I come in? I was hoping to talk with you about Paul Garrett.” Ash clipped her badge back on her belt.

Sara stepped to the side. “Yes. Please come in.”

Ash walked past Sara. “I appreciate you taking the time. I won’t keep you too long.” The condominium had high ceilings with floor to ceiling windows that provided a perfect view of downtown San Antonio. The floors were brilliantly polished hardwood floors that were accented with a myriad of rugs.

Sara gestured toward the living room, which was decorated with a casual overstuffed sofa and two chairs. “No trouble at all. Please have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?”

Shaking her head, Ash walked toward the sofa. “I’m good. Thanks.” As she went to sit down, Ash saw movement out of the corner of her eye.

Turning her attentions toward the kitchen, her breath caught as a beautiful woman with chestnut brown hair, flawless skin and the most brilliant green eyes Ash had ever seen came around the corner. The woman crossed the room toward Ash with her hand outstretched.

“Hello. I’m Rachel Collins.” Ash took the woman’s hand, and immediately thought of Emma Atman. Rachel’s hand was unnaturally cold and smooth. Ash tilted her head and glanced down at Rachel’s hand.

“Detective Haines.” As Rachel released her hand, Ash sat on the sofa. Rachel sat in the chair directly across from her, and Sara sat in the Parisian style leather chair nearest to Rachel.

Ash automatically flipped open the cover of her iPad she was carrying, and pulled a stylus from her jacket pocket. “Most importantly, Ms. Glass, let me tell you how sorry I am about Mr. Garrett. I understand from talking with his parents and several of his co-workers, the two of you had been seeing one another for over three years. I know this is very difficult.”

Ash watched Sara as she subtly shifted her shoulders and a frown formed on her perfect lips. “Thank you. Paul and I had recently stopped seeing one another, but it had been amicable.”

Ash wasn’t surprised. It seemed obvious from talking with Paul’s co-worker Andrew Raymond that Paul was at least seeing someone else.

The only question Ash had, Sara had just answered. Paul wasn’t stepping out on Sara, which meant Ash needed to find this Michelle woman. “How long ago was the breakup?”

“A few months.” Sara placed her hands in her lap as she crossed her legs.

“Ms. Collins?” Ash looked up from her notes to see Rachel looking directly at her. Ash’s heart beat got louder in her ears, and she hoped she wasn’t blushing. The woman was beautiful to the point of distraction. Clearing her throat, Ash continued. “How do you know Ms. Glass?”

“Very well, I should imagine.” Rachel smiled. “Sara and I are dating.”

Lucky lawyer. Ash thought as she noted the relationship on her iPad. “Forgive the personal question, Ms. Glass, but were the two of you seeing each other before or after you broke up with Mr. Garrett?”

Sara smiled. “Rachel and I were friends while Paul and I were dating, then after the breakup…” Sara reached for Rachel’s hand. “We started seeing each other.”

“Where were you last Thursday night, Ms. Glass?” Ash had intentionally stopped taking notes, and was carefully watching both Sara and Rachel’s body language as Sara responded to what was in essence an alibi question.

Sara glanced up at the ceiling and then over at Rachel. “Rach, we were here all evening, yes?”

Rachel nodded. “Except around nine. We went for a run and got back a little after ten.”

“Hmmm. That’s right. Low-key evening. We went through our backlog of American Idol on the DVR.” Sara smiled.

The lawyer was nervous about something, but no more than Ash would expect given the reason for her visit. “So you two were together the entire night?” Ash looked directly at Rachel.

“Yes.” Rachel nodded without hesitation.

Turning her attention back to Sara, Ash asked her several generic questions about where she worked, where she was from, how long she had lived in San Antonio, contact phone numbers, but it was the last question that Ash could see took Sara by surprise. “Ms. Glass, was Mr. Garrett seeing anyone, or do you have any idea who might have done this?”

Sara’s breath caught, she shifted in the chair and brushed imaginary lint from her jeans. Tears threatened to spill from her blue eyes. Ash felt her throat tighten. For all her calmness and politeness, was Sara Glass about to become one of Cris’ hysterical women?

Never one to shy away from awkward situations, Ash restated the question. “Ms. Glass, can you think of someone?”

Sara cleared her throat as Rachel slid her hand over Sara’s. “Love? You okay?”

Sara wiped at the tears running down her face. “Yeah. Sorry, it just hit me. Paul’s gone.” Rachel got up and walked into the kitchen, returning with a box of tissue that she handed to Sara. Rachel sat on the arm of Sara’s chair, and took Sara’s hand in between both of hers.

Ash watched the two women interact. They clearly cared for one another. “I’m sorry. I know this is very hard, but if you can think of anyone that would do something like this, it could really help.” Ash leaned forward, placing her iPad on the sofa next to her.

Sara sighed heavily and looked up at Rachel. “Christ, I hope I don’t know anyone that could do this.” Ash thought that was one of the more honest answers she had ever heard. No sane person wanted to imagine they knew an animal that was capable of the brutality inflicted on Paul Garrett. “And I don’t know if he was seeing anyone.”

Ash stood, putting the stylus back in her jacket pocket and picking up the iPad. She pulled yet another business card from the cover of the iPad. “Here’s my card, Ms. Glass. If you think of anything else, please give me a call, or shoot me an email.”

Sara got up from the chair. “I will. Let me show you out, detective.”

Rachel was following behind the two women when Ash thought, I may as well kill two birds with one stone. Maintain contact with an individual that may help with the case, and if things don’t work out between Ms. Collins and Ms. Glass, perhaps a future date.

Ash stopped suddenly and turned to face Rachel. “Ms. Collins. Here’s a card as well.” Ash’s heart beat increased, and she could feel the heat surge to her face under the intense gaze of this remarkably beautiful woman. “If you think of anything – ah, call me.”

“Absolutely, detective.” Rachel took the card as Sara opened the front door.

“Thank you both.” Ash shook Rachel’s cold hand, and then in contrast, Sara’s very warm hand as she left the apartment.

Once in the hallway, Ash let out a deep breath as she walked toward the elevator.

Christ, you’re smooth, Haines. Leaning her head against the wood trim around the elevator, Ash closed her eyes. I need to get laid when a complete stranger - who has a girlfriend - renders me nearly useless.

Ash got on the elevator and pressed the lobby button. She did manage to derive from the interview that Sara Glass was hiding something. Ash wasn’t sure what, but she doubted the attorney had any part in Paul’s murder. Exiting the elevator, it was perfectly clear that the only lead Ash had was Michelle. A faceless, practically nameless woman who may very well have been the last person to see Paul Garrett alive.

***

Ash looked around the crowded IHOP for Cris. They had talked briefly throughout the day, and had agreed to meet at the restaurant to debrief on the interviews for the day. Spotting her partner in a booth near the back of the restaurant, Ash walked toward him.

“Yo.” Cris waved Ash over as he took a sip of what Ash knew was at least his fifth cup of coffee for the day.

Sliding into the booth across from Cris, Ash took her iPad out and brought up the memo screen. “Hey partner.”

Cris waved the waitress over. “Have you eaten?”

Ash nodded. “I had a protein bar in between Garrett’s office and the ex-girlfriend’s.”

“So you had a snack?” Cris looked suspiciously at Ash.

Ash shook her head. “Well, Dad, you asked if I had eaten, and I did.”

Cris’ expression went blank. “Are you making another age joke at my expense?”

Ash knew better than to fall for his fake hurt feelings. “Yep.”

Cris smiled. “Clever.”

The waitress, whose name tag read Pat, stood next to the table and handed Ash a laminated menu. “Something to drink?”

Ash glanced at the menu. “Ah, water. And some extra dark white toast with butter, please.”

Pat took the menu from Ash and walked away. Ash turned her attention back to Cris who was staring at her out of the top of his eyes. “Toast and water?”

“What? I told you I ate.” Ash ran her index finger across the touch screen of the iPad until she found her notes from the Sara Glass interview.

Cris shook his head. “Okay then, just don’t take your low blood sugar out on me.”

Ash tilted her head to the left and then back to the right, trying to release some of the tension in her shoulders. “Do you want to do this or not?”

Cris nodded as he thumbed through his red Mead notepad. “Absolutely. I have nothing on the travelling companions. Group of WASPs that went out to Vegas a couple times a year with Garrett. All have solid alibis for the night of the murder, and no ideas who could have done it.”

Cris took a drink from his nearly empty coffee cup. “One guy -” Cris flipped a page on the notepad. “Greg. He said Garrett was dating around, and that your girl Sara wasn’t his main squeeze.”

Ash shook her head. “You really date yourself with those euphemisms.”

Ash ignored the grin on Cris’ face and continued. “Sara Glass and Garrett parted ways about two months ago. Apparently the split was amicable. According to one of his co-workers, it sounds like he was seeing a woman named Michelle.”

Ash scrolled to the next screen on the iPad. “No last name, and I’m having trouble finding any reference to her in Garrett’s papers, but I’m hopeful IT will find her in his contacts’ list once they get into his phone.”

The waitress came back with Ash’s water and toast. She refilled Cris’ coffee and disappeared without a word. Cris immediately took a drink of the hot coffee. “Any feel for the ex?”

Ash laughed. “Ah, let’s just say she isn’t hysterical.” She spread a generous amount of butter on the nearly burnt toast.

“Since parting ways with Garrett she has started dating a very attractive woman named Rachel Collins, and I suspect the two will be registered at Neiman Marcus any day now.” Ash took a bite of the toast.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Cris shook his head.

Ash smiled. “We’re everywhere, my friend.”

Cris laughed. “Alibi for her and the girlfriend check out?”

Ash shrugged. “They’re each other’s alibi, and no way to confirm it. In the love nest watching television, and then out for a run. The doorman couldn’t confirm the run because quote ‘Ms. Glass and her friend come and go at all hours’.” Ash took a drink of water. “If it comes down to it, I can pull the lobby security tape for that night.”

Cris nodded. “I’m feeling the Michelle lead myself, barring any irregularities in Garrett’s business dealings.”

Ash shook her head. “I don’t buy the business angle. Not with that amount of carnage.”

Cris agreed. “Let’s eliminate every angle and go with what’s left, though.”

Ash finished her toast and water. “Are we square?”

Cris tilted his head back to finish the last of his coffee. “Right as rain. See you tomorrow?”

The two detectives stood, and Ash put a twenty dollar bill on the table. The two walked out of the restaurant, and once outside, Ash turned again to Cris.

“I’m going to go see what the M.E. has come up with. I know the report isn’t due for a few more days, but maybe she has something that might point us in the right direction.”

“Sounds good.” Cris waved over his shoulder as he walked toward his navy blue Nissan Maxima.

Ash wasn’t looking forward to seeing Dr. Atman. Their paths had crossed on a few occasions since Ash’s near breakdown in her office three years ago, but they had not worked a case together. If Ash was honest with herself, she was still embarrassed over the exchange, and how vulnerable she had been with the M.E..

As she drove home, the only thought that steadied her nerves about seeing the doctor again was remembering how considerate she had been in what was truly one of Ash’s lowest moments.

Chapter 4

“Dr. Atman, it’s nice to see you again.” Ash extended her hand, but was waved off by Emma, who wore latex gloves covered in a brownish liquid.

“Forgive me, but you wouldn’t want this on your hands.” Emma smiled nervously, and turned back to Paul Garrett’s corpse.

Ash pulled her hand back and rubbed her thumb and forefinger together. “Right. Sorry.”

Ash walked around so she was standing on the opposite side of the table from Emma. She had last seen the doctor at a luncheon nearly six months ago, and looking at her now, realized her memory had failed her in how incredibly beautiful she was.

Ash found Emma even more appealing because she had a slight awkwardness to her that seemed in direct contrast to her obvious intelligence and grace. To that end, the doctor seemed anxious as she hurriedly walked back and forth between the autopsy table, and a laptop stationed on a metal table several feet away. Ash bit her lower lip, not sure what to say, and still feeling the twinges of embarrassment over her crying in Emma’s office three years ago. “I wish we were seeing each other again under better circumstances, Dr. Atman.”

Emma paused. She looked over the top of her safety glasses at Ash, who felt her breath catch at the intensity of blue gazing at her. “You can call me Emma, and given the nature of our work, I don’t see what other circumstances we could be meeting under.” There was no hint of irony or harshness in her tone, and not waiting for Ash’s response, Emma took a scalpel from the tray to her right and ran her thumb down the length of Paul’s sternum.

Ash shook her head. “Well, of course I know doct – Emma. I was just wishing we had the opportunity to meet under – that’s not to say I want to meet you somewhere – I mean we work together, and that would be awkward and –” Ash slammed her eyes shut, and willed herself to shut up.

Luckily Emma seemed oblivious to Ash’s stammering as she made an incision down the length of Paul’s chest. “He was very fit. Do you see the tightness and the density in the sternocostal head of the pectoralis major muscle?” Emma peeled back a flap of skin to expose the underlying muscle. “Whomever restrained him was incredibly strong.”

Ash wasn’t particularly squeamish, but watching the dissection of a once alive and vibrant man was nauseating for reasons unrelated to the anatomy lesson. Without looking down Ash nodded. “Oh yeah. Very fit.” She looked at Emma. “Doctor?”

Emma continued to peel layers of skin away from the sub dermal tissue. “Hmmm?”

“The bites? What caused them?” Ash felt a flutter in her lower abdomen when Emma looked up and their gazes locked. The doctor had the most amazing blue eyes that looked right into Ash.

“Some sort of metal prosthetic. Given the severity of the bites, the assailant doesn’t have any teeth of their own; so nothing to impede the bite.” Emma hesitated, and a flash of color across her cheeks further accented her eyes.

Ash couldn’t stop the smile that snuck onto her lips, and then blushed when she realized how inappropriate her line of thought was considering where she was, and what she was talking about.

Note to self. Get laid, Haines. “So toothless?”

Emma nodded and went back to cutting. “And strong.”

Ash shifted her stylus back and forth between her fingers. “Toothless strong man.” She sighed. “Great.”

Emma put the scalpel down, and placed her hands on the side of the table. “Why do you assume it’s a man?”

Ash shrugged. “If the victim is as strong as his muscle tone would imply, it’s a reasonable assumption that a male culp -”

“I don’t make assumptions in my line of work, detective.” Emma reached for a power tool with a jagged, circular blade at the end.

“Call me Ash, and in my line of work assumptions are synonymous with hunches, and those can get us headed in the right direction.” Ash’s tone was harsher than she had intended. She knew what the two of them did - though interconnected - were two disciplines that came at a problem from entirely different angles.

Emma pulled the clear face guard up. “The diameter of the bite marks are more consistent with a female bite radius.” Emma looked at the corpse and cocked her head to the side. “Or a male below average size.”

Ash flipped her iPad shut and put her stylus back in her jacket pocket. Her mind went to the mysterious, and as yet unseen, Michelle. “So what we’ve got here is a short toothless man or an average size toothless woman?”

Emma turned the saw on. “I’ll have the saliva test back for you by Thursday.” Without another word, she began sawing through what was left of Paul Garrett’s cracked sternum.

Ash shook her head, and without saying goodbye, turned and left the examination room. Walking down the hall toward the exit, she pulled her cell phone out of her back pant pocket, and pressed the smart-key for Cristelo.

“Yo.” Cris answered with his usual fanfare.

“This is not a yo day, partner.” Ash walked along the sidewalk toward the parking lot adjacent to the Medical Examiner’s building.

“What’s wrong?” Cris’ tone instantly shifted to professional.

“The medical examiner is getting nowhere fast on the Garrett autopsy.” Ash rolled her eyes as she recalled the conversation. “What we’re dealing with is a man - maybe short - or a woman - very strong – wearing crazy ass dentures.” Ash hit the unlock key on her Jeep remote.

“Thank God for science.” Cris laughed. “Look, give them a few more days. The report isn’t even due until Friday.”

Ash started the Jeep, and wedged the phone between her ear and shoulder. “I know, but the M.E. is exhausting.”

“Which one is it again?” Ash could tell Cris was in a restaurant with the sounds of plates clattering and drink orders being called out.

“Where are you at?” Ash asked.

“Grimaldi’s in the Quarry. Want to join me and Diane for dinner?” Cris explained.

“No. I’m tired and the M.E. put me in a mood.” Ash snapped her seatbelt on.

“Who’s the M.E.?” Cris repeated.

“Dr. Atman.” Ash replied.

Cris chuckled. “I’ve heard about her. She’s by the book, but you’re inclined to forgive her the stick up her ass.”

Ash pretended to be confused. “Why’s that?”

There was a long pause. “Really?”

Ash smiled. “Really, what?” She was going to get her happily married partner to say it, just so his lovely wife - who no doubt was sitting next to him - could punch him in the arm.

A loud sigh echoed through the phone. “Christ, she’s attractive, okay.” A split second later Cris yelped into the phone. “Ow. What!?”

Ash laughed. “I have to go, partner. Enjoy your dinner. Say hi to Diane for me.” She hit the end button on her phone, and put the Jeep in drive.

Pulling out of the parking lot, Ash couldn’t help but agree with Cris. Emma Atman was beautiful. She had been kind to her in what could have been a very uncomfortable situation, and though she loathed her partner’s turn of phrase, you hardly noticed the stick for the perfectly shaped ass.

As Ash was judging herself for having devolved into a pubescent teenage boy, her phone buzzed. Smiling as she glanced at the caller ID on the Jeep’s dashboard display, Ash tapped the Bluetooth button on her steering wheel. “Hello.”

“Sweet Jesus, is this Ashley Erin Haines?” A man’s voice filled the Jeep’s cabin.

Ash laughed. “I must be in trouble if you’re using my full name.”

The man laughed. “I can’t be bothered to be angry, I’m too hurt by your thoughtlessness.”

Ash shook her head. “Dramatic, Alan.”

“And yet, it rings true.” Alan Martelli had been Ash’s best friend since they met their freshman year at the University of Texas, and he was right in calling her out. They hadn’t seen each other in nearly two weeks.

“What are you doing now?” Ash asked.

“Meeting you at Blue Box in thirty minutes to do our worst,” Alan insisted.

Ash was exhausted, but she needed a completely non-work related outing, and Alan was her ticket. “Done. See you there.” Before Alan could throw another pithy comment her way, Ash hit the end button, performed an illegal U-turn, and headed toward Blue Box Bar.

***

Ash watched Alan as he walked across Blue Box, with the base from Muse’s Uprising thumping in the background. True to form, and always a slave to fashion, Alan’s attire made Ash’s modest black Kenneth Cole pant suit look like a K-Mart blue light special.

He wore a pair of Gucci skinny black jeans, black patent leather Prada dress shoes, and a slim fit electric blue Ralph Lauren dress shirt. Ash shook her head because not only was he paying tribute to numerous royals of the fashion world, but having known him since college, she could actually identify each designer without looking at a label. Her friend’s taste, if not his budget, had worn off on her.

Regardless of wardrobe, Alan would have caught anyone’s eye. His father was Italian and his mother Chinese. The combination had afforded Alan the best of both worlds, gifting him with thick black hair, pale smooth skin, a lean frame, and slightly elongated light brown eyes.

His father was a dentist, and had hoped in vain that his only son would follow in his footsteps. Alan, always an individual, had opted for a small business loan instead, and opened a high end women’s clothing boutique in Alamo Heights, an upscale neighborhood in central San Antonio.

“I’ll never understand how you drink this stuff .” Alan slid onto the bar stool next to Ash, grabbed the pint of Real Ale Lost Gold IPA from in front of her, and took a deep, exaggerated breath in through his nose. “It smells like hay.” He was clearly in rare form this evening, and Ash was bracing herself for a bumpy, but amusing ride.

Ash carefully removed the frothy glass from her overly dramatic friend’s hand. “That's hoppiness, and I don’t understand how you drink that olive ladened concoction you have.” Ash nodded toward the martini she had ordered Alan while she waited.

“I’m keeping it classy, dear girl.” Alan plucked an olive from the glass with the silver cocktail fork and popped it in his mouth.

Ash cringed. “I can’t stand olives. They make me gag.” She took a long drink from her beer.

“This from a woman who thinks hot dogs are one of the major food groups.” Alan shook his head, and before even finishing the last of his first cocktail, gestured for the bartender to bring him another round.

The pair sat at the far end of the mahogany bar in Blue Box. Located in the heart of the renovated Pearl Brewery complex, the bar was named after the blue boxes the brewery employees took free beer samples home in. It featured an extensive cocktail menu of hand-crafted drinks, along with local craft beers. The ambiance was modern industrial, with exposed brick and iron throughout the intimate space. One of the features that had drawn both Alan and Ash to the bar was they didn’t have a food menu, but instead chose to focus on the quality of the liquor, beer and wines they offered.

“So, it’s been a couple weeks. What’s up with you, friend?” Alan thanked the bartender for the fresh martini, and turned toward Ash.

“Same old, same old. Relatively heavy case load right now, and the ones I have are -” Ash hesitated, trying to find the word for what had been happening with the Garrett case. “Gruesome.”

Alan’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh. Do tell.”

Ash shook her head, and emptied her pint glass. “You know I don’t like talking about the details of my work.” She caught the bartender’s eye, and gestured for another beer as well. “Let’s just say it’s awful, and nothing your delicate psyche should be exposed to.”

Alan frowned. “But I like exposing my psyche.”

Ash shook her head. “Pervert.”

She pulled the fresh pint of beer toward her and thanked the bartender. Lifting her head back slightly to take a drink, her eyes wandered to the seating area on the second floor balcony that overlooked the main level of the bar. Her stomach did a slight somersault, and she nearly choked on her beer.

Alan began to pat Ash on the back. “Christ. Are you okay?”

Ash wiped at the beer dripping from her chin, and reached across the bar to grab a black napkin from the bartender’s caddy. “I’m okay.”

Feeling more composed, Ash rolled her eyes toward the balcony, and lowered her voice. “The blonde woman sitting nearest the railing is the M.E. working one of my cases.”

Alan immediately pivoted on his bar stool and looked directly at the woman. “Fuck me. She’s gorgeous.”

Ash pulled her friend back around by the shoulders. “Would you please not make a scene?”

Alan shrugged Ash’s hand off and twisted his neck back around to look at the woman again. “She is a scene, friend. I mean just look at her. If I was ever going to cross the street and join your little clique, she would be the crossing guard.”

Ash rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous, and it’s not a clique.” Ash looked up at Emma and then at Alan. “Do you think she’s that attractive?”

“Are you serious?” Alan took Ash’s chin in his hand and turned her head upward so she was forced to look at Emma again. “Are your eyes attached to your brain like a real person?”

Ash squinted and looked at Emma closely. She knew the woman was beautiful, but the last thing she needed was Alan deciding to play match maker. “I guess. I’ve only seen her in scrubs and usually with a face guard on.”

Ash felt heat rise to her face as she took in what Emma was wearing now. She was in a sleeveless silk green blouse that accentuated perfectly shaped biceps, and a dark brown pencil skirt that from Ash’s vantage point, showed just the right amount of Emma’s shapely legs. To further add to the flush spreading through Ash’s body, her eyes wandered down past Emma’s perfectly shaped ankles to a pair of brown suede Manolo Blahnik heels. Christ, is that what she had on under the scrubs earlier?

“What’s her name?” Alan continued to stare at the woman.

“What?” Ash looked at Alan who wore a mischievous grin on his face.

Alan nodded his head toward Emma. “The gorgeous shrew’s name?”

Ash looked down at her beer, refusing to make eye contact with her friend. “Dr. Emma Atman.”

Turing back around, Alan took a sip of his martini. “Are you going to make a move on that?”

Ash sighed. “You’re so crude. And besides, she doesn’t bat for the same team.”

Alan snickered. “You lesbians and your sports analogies.” Alan emptied his glass. “And this one isn’t even accurate.”

Ash furrowed her brow. “How do you mean?”

Alan nodded toward Emma. “She and her lady friend seem very friendly.”

Ash glanced up at Emma. She had been so enamored with Emma she hadn’t noticed the equally beautiful dark haired woman sitting next to her. The striking woman had her arm around Emma’s waist. Ash’s eyes narrowed as she watched the pair closely. After a few seconds, Emma leaned into the woman and said something to her that triggered a melodic laugh.

“I don’t think they’re -” Before Ash could complete her thought the dark haired woman kissed Emma full on the lips, and Emma smiled and whispered something into the woman’s ear before placing a kiss on her neck. “I’ll be damned.”

“You really need to have that gaydar tuned up.” Alan had just started on his third martini.

Ash shook her head, and turned to face her friend. “You’re one to talk, you think everyone is gay.”

Alan tisked disapprovingly. “No. I hope everyone is gay.”

Ash laughed. “Well, I admit I missed the signals from the good doctor. But you can’t blame me.” Ash nodded toward Emma. “The woman talks like a textbook, and is so - so proper.”

“Whatever that means.” Alan hopped off the bar stool, martini in hand.

“Where are you going?” Ash asked.

“To introduce myself, of course.” Alan began walking toward the iron and wood staircase.

Nearly choking on her beer for the second time, Ash quickly got up from the bar and hurried after her eager friend. “Al!” She didn’t want to draw attention, so attempted a loud whisper. “Alan!”

Undeterred, Alan walked up the stairs with Ash in tow. As he got closer to the two women, he realized his initial impression of Dr. Atman was incorrect. The woman wasn’t just gorgeous, she - and her friend - were incredibly beautiful. Their pale, almost porcelain like skin was flawless.

Emma’s long hair was thick and resembled honey colored silk. By contrast, her friend’s hair was a velvet like mane of obsidian.

Clearing his throat, Alan approached the pair. “Good evening, ladies.”

Emma looked up first, and smiled. “Good evening.” She tilted her head slightly to the right and her gaze fell on Ash who had just caught up with Alan, and now stood behind him. “Detective Haines?”

Ash forced the nervous expression from her face, and smiled. “Emma. Funny running into you here.” She winced as Alan turned and gave her a disapproving look. “What?” She knew she was lame, and hardly needed her best friend to point that out.

“Excuse my friend’s manners.” Alan extended his right hand. “I’m Alan Martelli, Ash’s oldest and dearest friend.”

Ash took a step forward so she was standing shoulder to shoulder with Alan. “I’m sorry. Alan Martelli, this is Dr. Emma Atman. She’s a Deputy Medical Examiner for Bexar County.”

Emma was clearly amused, and her smile broadened as she took Alan’s hand in hers. “Nice to meet you, Alan. This is Coleen Andrade. Coleen, this is Detective Ashley Haines and her friend Alan Martelli.”

Coleen rose from the wood and metal stool she had been sitting on next to Emma. “Christ, Em, with all this formality, it’ll be next week before we get through introductions.”

Coleen stepped around Alan, and reached toward Ash and took her right hand in both of hers. “Coleen Andrade. Pleasure.”

Ash’s breath caught at the coolness of the raven haired woman’s hand. The intensity of her blue eyes rivaled Emma’s, and Ash was having a hard time not staring. “Good to meet you too.”

Ash looked past Coleen in time to see Alan pulling two stools over from an adjacent table. “Alan, we really shouldn’t intrude.”

Emma reached across Alan and effortlessly lifted the wooden stool up and over the high top table, positioning it in front of Ash. “Nonsense. Please sit.”

Ash shook her head. Realizing Coleen was still holding her hand, she smiled as she slowly pulled it from the woman’s grasp. “It looks like the two of you are together, and enjoying each other’s company and –”

“Coleen and me?” Emma winced. “Oh no. We’re friends.”

Taking a step back, and assuming her position next to Emma, Coleen laughed. “You don’t have to sound so emphatic about it, Em.”

Emma frowned and shook her head. “Coleen.” Turning her attentions back to Ash, she gestured to the available stool. “Please join us. It’s really no inconvenience.”

Alan smacked his hand on the stool. “Yeah, Ash. Sit.”

Ash glared at Alan, and then turned her attention back to Emma and forced a smile. “Sure.”

As she sat down, she was trying to gauge how awkward this evening was about to get. Emma had never struck her as particularly chatty, and she couldn’t imagine what the four of them were going to talk about. Feeling a piercing set of blue eyes on her, Ash turned her head to find Coleen staring intently at her. She was every bit as beautiful as Emma, but the steadiness of her gaze was unnerving.

“Ash, you know Em from work, then?” Coleen smiled as she took a drink from what, given the smell, Ash assumed was scotch.

Ash nodded, and glanced over at Alan who had taken Emma’s left hand in his while commenting on the diamond and emerald ring she wore. Ash was always amazed at Alan’s ability to put people at ease, and instantly befriend them.

Given the relaxed and amused look on the doctor’s face, it was clear she wasn’t immune to Alan’s charms. “I’m a homicide detective; so Emma’s path and mine cross - sadly - under dire circumstances.”

Coleen grinned. “Yes, Em has opted for a morbid bit of business with her professional choices.” Coleen looked at Emma. “And her personal choices too, by some standards.”

Ash tilted her head. “Sorry?”

Coleen turned toward Ash, and grinned before taking another drink of her scotch. Looking around the table she got up from the bar stool. “Another round of drinks? My treat.”

Ash shook her head. “No thanks. This is my third, and I have to drive.”

Alan slid his empty martini glass across the table toward Coleen. “I have no such concerns. Treat away.”

Coleen smiled. “Em?”

Emma, who had extracted her hand from Alan’s long enough to drink the last of her scotch, shook her head. “No, thank you.”

Alan got up and slid around the table toward Coleen. “Let me help. Since they don’t have table service here, I can give you a hand.” Glancing at Ash, he winked and nodded toward Emma.

Ash rolled her eyes as Alan and Coleen wound their way through the crowd toward the smaller bar that serviced the second level of Blue Box. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but Coleen was clearly amused, as a broad smile found its way to her full lips repeatedly.

“How long have you known Alan?” Emma’s question interrupted Ash’s musing.

“Since college. So, sixteen years.” Ash drank the last of her beer.

Emma looked at Alan and Coleen as they stood waiting for a bartender. “He’s charming.”

Ash laughed. “That’s a word for it.”

Emma’s brows furrowed. “You don’t agree?”

Ash sighed. They were back to their usual banter. The place where metaphor and euphemism went to die, and only the very literal survived. “No, I do agree. I just meant.” Ash shook her head. “Never mind. So you and Coleen aren’t dating?”

Emma shook her head. “No. We’ve known each other for a long time, but have never been together.”

“She’s very attractive.” Ash looked over at Coleen and then back at Emma.

An expression Ash couldn’t identify quickly crossed Emma’s face. It was something akin to sadness. “Yes. She is.” Emma looked down at her empty glass.

Ash frowned, but thought better of asking for clarification. More than likely Emma had feelings for Coleen that weren’t returned. Ash had no interest in getting in the middle of that. “That ring Alan was admiring. It’s lovely.”

Emma glanced at the gold channel ring that had five diamond cut emeralds, surrounded by diamond rounds. “Thank you. It’s a family heirloom.”

Ash couldn’t help herself. She reached out and took Emma’s hand. It was the first time in three years she could recall touching the woman, and was immediately reminded of the doctor’s smooth and unusually cold hands. Ash feigned interest in the ring, but was taking the opportunity to admire the woman’s beautiful, long, tapered fingers.

Ash looked up at Emma, who was staring intently at her. “Beautiful.” Ash realized how inappropriate she was being, acting like a horny teenage boy. Emma may be too polite to say anything, but Ash didn’t have the right to ogle her.

Releasing Emma’s hand, Ash leaned back. “The ring is beautiful.” Shifting nervously in her seat, Ash cleared her throat. “So, are y’all just hanging out here tonight, or are you heading out for dinner later?”

Emma leaned back, and picked at an imagined piece of lint on her skirt. “We - ah, we’re just staying here.” Emma looked around the bustling bar. “This is the best bar in the city.” She held up her glass that now only contained four perfectly formed ice cubes. “You can see the owner has an eye for detail.”

Ash looked closely at the glass, grateful for the shift in tone, but wondering what she was missing. “It’s one of my favorites too.”

Without looking at Ash, Emma continued. “Cubed ice is imperative to maintaining a balanced alcohol to water ratio.” Emma swirled the glass, and the ice cubes clinked.

“The even surface area of the cube ensures a delay in the ice reaching the melting point, which as I’m sure you know, is when the Gibbs free energy of the ice is zero, but the enthalpy and entropy of the ice are increasing due to external pressure from the liquid around it.”

Emma put the glass down, and seeing the utterly confused expression on Ash’s face, cleared her throat. “It takes longer for the drink to get watered down.”

Ash tilted her head back and smiled. “Thank heaven for Mr. Gibbs and his penchant for enthalpy, otherwise we would all be relegated to taking shots.”

Emma grinned, and parted her lips as if she wanted to say something more, but was interrupted when Alan returned with drinks in hand. “Coleen had to take a call, but rest assured I have returned.” He slid a glass of scotch over to Emma. “I know you said you were all full up, but Coleen insisted.”

Emma nodded. “She usually does. Thank you.”

Ash reached across the table, and pulled Emma’s scotch toward her. Lifting the glass, she considered the ice cubes for several seconds. “The thermodynamics look sound on this one.”

Putting the glass back on the wooden table, she grinned as she slid it back toward Emma, who had an amused expression on her face.

Alan looked back and forth between the two women. “What’d I miss?”

***

Sitting in the Mission Park North chapel and watching the friends, family and co-workers of Paul Garrett file in, Ash remembered her mother’s funeral, and how exhausting the mourning process had been. People always meant well, but the constant and repetitive outpouring of emotion had left Ash feeling hollow and shaken.

By the end of the day, between the service, the graveside and the gathering at her parent’s house after, Ash had witnessed what little energy her father had slowly drain away. By that evening, as the last of the mourners were leaving, James Haines had excused himself and disappeared to his bedroom upstairs.

“Should we check on him?” Jason had asked as he loaded the dishwasher with the third load of dirty plates, glasses and utensils.

Ash wiped down the granite countertops and shook her head. “No. He needs his space.”

Michael walked into the kitchen with a nearly full bag of trash. “As long as he doesn’t lay down roots up there.”

Jason nodded. “I’ll come by and check on him tomorrow, and Katy will come by on her lunch break.”

Michael gathered several empty plastic cups into the trash bag and pulled it closed. “Amy said she will bring the kids over in the afternoons.” Michael looked at his sister, tears filling his eyes, his voice breaking. “The kids will help, right?”

Ash dried her hands on a nearby dish towel, and walked toward her younger brother with outstretched arms. “Absolutely.” Ash wrapped her arms around him, and gently rubbed his back.

Michael had met Amy while they both were attending Incarnate Word University in San Antonio. Michael was getting his teaching certification, which he ultimately used to become a successful corporate training and curriculum developer. Amy, who was two years his junior, had finished her nursing degree, but after their second child Chelsea was born, she had made the decision to stay at home with her children.

Jason closed the dishwasher door, and tapped several buttons until the machine began to make a low humming noise. “Maybe we can get out to Canyon Lake and do some fishing off the pontoon this weekend?”

Jason was nearly forty years old. He and his wife Katy had married only five years before, a first marriage for them both, and they had decided not to have children. Jason’s construction business had struggled with the downturn in 2008, but between his perseverance and Katy’s job as a CPA with a local firm, the couple had made it, and their marriage seemed stronger than ever.

Michael stepped back from Ash, and wiped at his face. “Great idea. Count me in.”

The brothers looked at Ash expectantly. “I’m down.” She had managed a smile, even though the last thing she wanted to do was feign enthusiasm, when all she wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed. Maybe she was the one that needed to be careful about laying down roots.

In the end, no one had stopped living after her mother’s death. It had taken several months before she could see her father and not immediately feel like crying, but eventually the family had returned to its normal ebb and flow, the absence of Elizabeth always there, but becoming less of an impediment.

Now Ash sat at the funeral of a young, successful man who had been brutally murdered. She frequently made a point to attend at least the services of the victim to see the reactions of both the sincere and insincere mourners.

Having asked Mr. and Mrs. Garrett’s permission, Ash would be at both Paul’s services and graveside today. She hoped the mysterious Michelle would put in an appearance, and if she didn’t, that would only further Ash’s suspicions of her.

Ash sat at the back of the chapel and watched as Andrew Raymond, Paul’s co-worker, made his way through the crowd, toward Sara Glass, who sat with Rachel Collins and a woman Ash didn’t recognize. Given the physical similarities between her and Sara, Ash deduced the woman was a family member.

From where she was sitting, Ash couldn’t hear what Sara was saying. But it was clear from her rigid body language, and the quickness in which she terminated the awkward hug Mr. Raymond initiated, that the lawyer was as unimpressed with the short man as Ash had been.

Ash continued to look around the rapidly filling chapel. She saw several people she had met at Paul’s office, including Mr. Rooney and Delores Reed. What she didn’t see was any lone woman. The elusive Michelle seemed to be MIA.

Ash’s phone vibrated in her pant pocket, pulling it out she quickly read the text from Cris. Know you can’t talk, but give me a call when you’re done at the funeral. Odd M.E. report.

Ash quickly typed. It will be about an hour or two. She knew better than to expect an acknowledgement from Cris. She was surprised he had opted for a text at all, considering his commitment to being a trendaphobe. The doctor’s report must be interesting.

For the next half hour, Ash listened to well-wishers, cousins and co-workers talk about how wonderful Paul Garrett was. They talked about his love of running and how committed he was to his work and his family. As funerals went, Paul’s was average, and no one caught Ash’s eye as being unusually out of sorts.

The only awkwardness came when the congregation was asked to sing Amazing Grace, and Andrew Raymond held the final note several seconds beyond the rest of the mourners. Ash had stifled a laugh as the man turned several shades of red in embarrassment.

Ash decided to call her partner while she drove over to the cemetery. “So explain the enzyme thing to me one more time.”

Cris was eating lunch, and Ash could hear the crunching of chips through the speakers of her Jeep. “Well, I’m not going to try to pronounce fibrinolytic again.”

Ash smiled. “But you kinda just did.”

“Fine, but I won’t pronounce it correctly.” Cris countered. “Anyway, it’s an enzyme found in vampire bats. Get this, it’s been in the news lately because they’re trying to utilize it for the treatment of strokes.”

Ash shook her head as she sat in the mourners’ processional line waiting to turn into the cemetery. “So a vampire bat attacked Garrett?”

Crunch, crunch, crunch. “Obviously not, but something with that enzyme was at the scene.”

Ash couldn’t make sense of it. “That’s a first for me, partner.” She parked her Jeep. “Look, I have to go. I’ll double back with you after the graveside.”

She hit the end button on her steering wheel and, getting out of her car, followed the other mourners toward the center of the cemetery. She intentionally stood back and watched as the crowd formed.

Rachel, Sara and their companion got out of a newer model black BMW and made their way to the graveside.  Sara had obviously been crying, and Rachel held her hand as the three moved through the crowd. Rachel whispered something in Sara’s ear, and the blonde nodded. The brunette leaned closer to Sara who managed a weak smile before placing a kiss on Rachel’s cheek.

The other blonde with Rachel and Sara said something that got both women’s attention as their eyes looked across the crowd. Ash followed their stares to a tall blonde woman who was, to Ash’s disbelief, wearing a red dress. The woman stood casually between two of Paul’s cousins that had spoken at the service.

Sara Glass’ gasp was audible as she looked at Rachel and then back at the woman in red. Ash had to admit she was stunning, and the dress, though completely inappropriate, accentuated her long legs perfectly.

Ash watched as Andrew Raymond made his way as close to the woman as he could without knocking one of Paul’s cousins over.  The woman couldn’t be bothered to even respond to him as her gaze was fixed directly on Sara and Rachel.

For the duration of the service, Ash watched as Rachel, Sara, and the woman in red were locked in some demented staring contest, none of them willing to take their eyes off of each other. As the service concluded, the third woman with Rachel and Sara walked back toward the black BMW, and the woman in red immediately made her way through the crowd toward Rachel and Sara.

The woman said something that clearly upset Sara, because even from her position nearly twenty feet away, Ash could see the muscles in Sara’s jaw clenching. Rachel looked around, and then gestured for the threesome to move toward a small cluster of trees several yards away from the graveside.

Ash walked several feet to the right towards the small group.  She was still unable to hear the conversation, but could clearly see the aggressive posturing Rachel was taking toward the woman. The brunette’s shoulders were hunched and she glared at the blonde as she clenched her fists.

The woman in red seemed unfazed by any of it, and laughed at one point, reminding Ash of the melodic tones of Coleen’s laughter from the other night at Blue Box. Then Rachel grabbed the woman’s arm, or at least Ash thought she must have, because as quickly as Ash blinked, Rachel’s hand was curled around the woman’s forearm, and then it was back at Rachel’s side. Now the two women stood face-to-face with one another. Sara said something, and Rachel stepped back.

Ash took several steps forward, tilting her head to the right, trying desperately to hear what they were saying, she struggled to reconcile the quickness of the exchange between Rachel and the woman.

“Detective Haines. Nice to see you again.” Andrew Raymond stepped up next to Ash.

Ash glanced to her side, and barely made eye contact with the man. “Mr. Raymond.”

“Andrew, please.” The man insisted.

Ash rolled her eyes. “Mr. Raymond, what can I do for you?”

The man frowned. “I’m surprised to see you here, is all.”

Ash continued to watch the three women. “It’s usual procedure in a murder investigation.”

“Kinda morbid if you think about it, detective.” Andrew stated matter-of-factly.

Ash looked at him. “How’s that?”

The man shrugged. “All these people are here to mourn Paul, and you’re here critiquing their every move in hopes of finding his killer.”

“I consider that practical, not morbid, Mr. Raymond.” Ash turned her focus back on Rachel, Sara and the woman in red. “Ah - Andrew - by any chance do you know who the woman talking to Sara Glass is?”

Andrew followed Ash’s stare. “That’s why I came over. That’s Michelle.”

Ash felt a prickling of heat rush up her neck. It was the feeling she got when her instincts and the facts of a case began to align.

“Thank you, Andrew.” Ash turned and smiled. “Please excuse me.” Before the man could respond, Ash turned and walked back toward her Jeep. She leaned against the front of the vehicle, intending to wait for Michelle and have a long overdue word with her.

“Detective Haines. I understand you’re looking for me.” Ash quickly turned to find Michelle standing next to the passenger door. Ash couldn’t reconcile how the woman had maneuvered from the area near the grave to the Jeep without Ash seeing her.

Ash looked at the grave and then quickly back at Michelle. “Yes.” She unclipped her badge and photo ID from her belt and walked toward Michelle. “Detective Ashley Haines, and you’re Michelle?”

The woman reached out and put her hand on Ash’s to steady the badge. “Call me Ela. Paul preferred my middle name, and I indulged him.”

Ash’s brow arched. Ela’s hand was cold like Emma’s, and her eyes were as intensely blue without any of the warmth she saw in Emma’s. “Your last name, Ela?”

The woman looked up from the badge, and grinned. “Jacobs.”

Ash pulled her hand away and clipped her badge onto her belt. “I know this may not be the best time, but I would like to ask you a few questions about Mr. Garrett’s death.”

Ela nodded. “Oh, of course, I am always happy to help the men and women in blue.”

Ash squinted at the clearly insincere tone in Ela’s voice. “Great, just let me get something to write on.” Ash hurried around to the driver’s door, and reached in to the Jeep and retrieved her iPad. Turning back around, she was startled that Ela was standing only a few feet from her.

How the hell did she get around the car without me hearing her? Ash shook her head. “Right, what was your relationship with Mr. Garrett?” Ash had the distinct impression the woman was toying with her, and she was in no mood.

Ela leaned against the side of the Jeep and crossed her arms over her chest. “We weren’t fucking, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Definitely toying with me. Ash glanced up at Ela, forcing a smile. “That hardly narrows it down, Ms. Jacobs.”

Ela laughed and smirked at Ash. “Right you are, Ash.”

Ash felt a surge of irritation. She hadn’t told the woman to use her first name and she certainly hadn’t given her permission to use the more familiar nickname. “Ms. Jacobs, I’m going to stop you there. In case you haven’t put it together, I’m interviewing you regarding the brutal murder of a man who, by some accounts, you may have been the last person he saw before he died.”

Ash’s voice went flat. “So let’s cut the bullshit, shall we?” Not waiting for Ela’s response, Ash continued. “Where were you Thursday night, two weeks ago?”

Ela cocked her head to the right, and Ash thought she caught a flash of iridescent blue shoot across her eyes. “I can’t possibly be expected to remember that, detective. I’ll have to look at my calendar and get back to you.”

Ash made a quick note on her iPad. “When did you see Mr. Garrett last?” Ash looked up at Ela. “Or do you need to look at your calendar for that information as well?”

Ela smiled and pointed her index finger at Ash. “You catch on, detective.”

“What’s your profession?” Ash continued to pepper the woman with questions.

“A little of this and a little of that.” Ela began looking around. “I know Paul referenced his ex Sara Glass several times. Perhaps you should take this line of questioning up with her?”

Ela smirked. “Aren’t the ex-girlfriends always on the top of your hit list?”

Ash shook her head. “Not necessarily. Ms. Jac -”

“And -” Ela leaned forward, her vanilla and lavender scent washing over Ash. “I’ve heard she’s with a woman now.” Ela shook her head. “Scandalous.”

Ash looked at the blonde, and considered her for several seconds. “Not really.”

Ela’s perfectly manicured brow arched, and her eyes wandered from Ash’s reddish brown eyes to her breasts, and then down to shapely thighs before coming back up to her face. “Oh, what a pleasant surprise.”

Ash’s heart raced. She had been leered at before by men and women alike, but this woman looked like she literally wanted to consume her. Ash cleared her throat.

“Here’s my card Ms. Jacobs. If I don’t have the information regarding your alibi for the night Paul was killed, and the last time you and he were together by five this afternoon, I’ll have an arrest warrant issued for your obstruction of a murder investigation.”

Ela took the card, and traced the edges with her index finger. “Not to worry Ash, like I said, always glad to help the men, and especially the women, in blue.”

Ash nodded, and opened the driver’s door. She knew she should take the high road and simply drive away, but this woman had irritated her a couple different ways. Ash decided the high road was overrated. “Ms. Jacobs, I’m picking up a faint European accent when you speak. Polish, maybe?”

Ash slid into the leather driver’s seat. “Regardless, you should know that in this country, and particularly in the South, we don’t use people’s first names or nicknames unless they give us permission.”

Then Ash looked pointedly at Ela’s dress. “And generally, it’s a sign of good taste, breeding and respect to wear black to a funeral.”

Before Ela could respond, Ash shut the car door, and started the Jeep’s engine. When she finally decided to look up, Ela was gone. Ash peered around the cemetery, but the woman in red was nowhere to be found. Ash wondered if the woman had any idea how suspicious her actions made her seem, and more to the point, if she cared.

Ash pulled out of the cemetery parking lot, and took several deep breaths. In spite of what she was confident had been a calm exterior demeanor, Ash had been sweating and her heart racing through most of the awkward interview. In spite of being beautiful, Ela Jacobs had rubbed Ash the wrong way, and she was convinced, now more than ever, the strange woman was involved in Paul Garrett’s death.

Chapter 5

“Are we doomed to continue this on-again-off-again relationship?” Alan put his menu down as Ash approached their booth at Sushi Zushi, a contemporary sushi restaurant in town.

Ash slid into the black leather booth across from Alan. She was happy for the distraction her friend offered after what had been a stressful week. Ela Jacobs had been at a Spurs game the night Paul Garrett was murdered, having parted ways with the victim earlier that evening. Several fellow fans had vouched for her.

The timeline was tight, but she would have had to traverse nearly the entire cityscape in less than fifteen minutes to arrive at Paul’s apartment, according to the timeline the Medical Examiner’s Office had provided.

To further add to her stress, the Garrett crime scene just kept getting stranger by the day. The final M.E. report was released, and it didn’t shed any new light on the situation.

Ash had read and re-read the file trying to understand how a fit, healthy man in his mid-thirties had been restrained by a single individual without fiber evidence of ropes, or ligature marks from leather or metal restraints. Not to mention the enormous strength it would take to crush every bone in Paul Garrett’s torso. The fibrinolytic enzyme found around the bite marks that nearly covered all of Paul’s body only added to the disconnects that seemed to comprise the case.

Ash sighed as she looked across the table at her friend. “Calm down, you’re not well. It’s only been a week.”

Alan put his hand over his chest and looked shocked. “I’m hurt.”

Ash picked up her menu, and began flipping through it without looking at Alan. “I hadn’t thought that possible.” Alan laid his menu down, and grasping his hands in front of him on the table, stared at Ash.

Ash glanced up at her friend, and then down at his hands. “Are you praying?”

“No!” Alan pulled his hands off the table. “Don’t even joke about that.”

The waiter arrived, and Ash ordered water without lemon. As counterintuitive as it was, the citrus and raw fish never tasted right to her.

“And can I get an order of edamame too, please?” The waiter nodded and left Ash alone with the incensed Alan. “What?” Ash put her menu down.

“How much do you love me?” Alan smirked.

“More than I have words for.” Ash saw a glint in Alan’s eyes that made her uneasy. “Why?”

Alan took a sip of his martini and cleared his throat. “Well, dear friend of mine, I have found you a date.”

Ash sighed. “I hadn’t realized I was on the lookout for one.”

“Always.” Alan took an olive from his cocktail and popped it in his mouth. “Or at least you should be.”

The waiter came back with Ash’s water and steamed edamame. “Are y’all ready to order?”

Alan looked up at the man. “Can you give us a few more minutes please?” Winking at the man, Alan then turned his attentions back to Ash, who was trying desperately to see how low in her seat she could sink. “Ah, ah, ah. Sit up, and be prepared to be amazed at my thoughtfulness and ingenuity.”

Ash pushed herself back up in the booth. “And don’t forget your humility.”

“That’s assumed.” Alan quipped. Clapping his hands together, Alan grinned broadly. “I have a new client who spent thousands of dollars with me, and - wait for it - she has a friend of your persuasion that she and I think would be just perfect for you.”

Ash felt physically ill, and took a long drink of her water. “Alan, let me see if I have this straight -”

Alan laughed. “Pun intended?”

Ash frowned the churning in her stomach getting worse. “What? Oh, the straight part? Ha - yeah, so you think I would be perfect for this woman you’ve never met, who was recommended by a client I’ve never met?”

Alan rolled his eyes. “Yes. This is how great romances start. You and I sitting in a restaurant, and you’re convinced I’ve done you some terrible injustice, and then boom, the love of your life enters stage left.”

Ash grimaced. She had to admit her social life had been lacking lately, and she knew Alan had nothing but the best intentions. Still, the idea of making small talk with a complete stranger was not high on her list of to-dos. “I really don’t want to do this, Al.”

Alan shook his head. “Maybe not, but you need to do this, Ash. When was the last time you went out on a date?”

Ash chewed on her lower lip. “Longer than I care to admit.”

“Then it’s settled. My client is giving her friend your phone number, and I am giving you her friend’s number, and presto - match made in heaven.”

Ash continued to chew on her lower lip. “Fine. What’s her name?”

Alan leaned in as if he was about to impart a state secret to Ash. “Lara, and it’s spelled L-A-R-A because she’s from Mexico and exotic.”

Ash laughed. “Alan, I hope that wasn’t your client’s line, because you got scammed, my friend. Mexico is not Spain, and parts of the country are downright third world.”

Alan huffed. “Christ, Ash, I’m not an imbecile. I know the difference between a country in Western Europe and a country in North America. Lara is from interior Mexico. Somewhere near Mexico City.”

Ash held up her hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Of course you know the difference.” Ash looked around for the waiter. “I’m hungry, where did the waiter go?”

Alan slid a piece of paper across the table toward Ash. “No subject changes. Here’s her number. Go forth and be gay together.”

Ash pulled the paper toward her, and without looking, folded it and put it in her pant pocket. Alan had always approached dating like Christmas morning, full of possibilities, merriment and wonder.

Ash also compared dating to Christmas morning. The people involved were the presents being offered to each other. They opened each other up, only to find they were not the anticipated gift. And if you were unfortunate enough to be going through the gift exchange on a blind date, you still had to smile in spite of the disappointment.

***

It was nearly six in the evening when Ash pulled into the parking lot of the Blue Star Arts Complex in the King William District of San Antonio. The development was adjacent to the San Antonio River, and consisted of renovated historic warehouse buildings. It offered an eclectic blend of arts-oriented galleries, urban style loft and studio apartments, restaurants and bars.

Lara Ramirez and she had exchanged a few text messages over the past two days, and had decided to meet at Bar 1919 for drinks. Ash had discovered the speakeasy style bar by accident when she had been at the complex with her sister-in-law Katy for a photography exhibit. The bar was small and not too noisy, which allowed for conversation.

Walking down the non-descript concrete stairs, and through the unmarked metal door of 1919, Ash blinked several times as her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior of the bar. The wood flooring, booths and bar itself were all dark stained oak. Looking around, Ash saw a woman sitting in a corner booth across from the bar. Based on their text exchanges, she assumed this was Lara, who had said she would be wearing a red silk scarf and a gray V-neck sweater.

If there was any doubt in Ash’s mind she would be attracted to the woman, it was immediately put to rest. Lara was in her early thirties, with long brown hair that had a luster and framed her defined angular features and perfectly proportioned lips. As she looked up, Ash’s breath caught. Lara’s eyes were nearly clear and, in the dim light of the bar, seemed to glow.

“Ash?” Lara slid out of the booth, a smile on her face. She wore a pair of denim Lucky Brand jeans tucked into black Steve Madden riding boots. This complimented her sweater and scarf, and accentuated her height which was close to Ash’s.

“Lara.” Ash extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Absolutely.” Lara took Ash’s hand. “I’m glad we were able to get our schedules to work.”

Ash noticed Lara’s hand was incredibly warm, verging on hot, and she reprimanded herself silently for allowing her mind to associate that with Emma Atman’s cool hands. “Me too.”

The two women slid into the booth, and Ash enjoyed the earthy scent of Lara as the size of the booth forced them into proximity of one another. “So what are you drinking?”

Ash knew Matt the bartender from her previous visits, and looked to see that he was on shift. “I usually leave it up to Matt. He’s a great bartender, and basically you can tell him what you like and he creates something delicious.”

Lara nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll defer to you and Matt then. Anything with vodka is okay with me.”

Ash smiled and slid out of the booth. “I’ll be right back.” Ash waved Lara off when she attempted to hand Ash a twenty dollar bill. “First round is on me, you can catch the second.” Ash winked as she walked toward the bar.

“Hi Ash. How’ve you been?” Matt stepped around a bartender Ash didn’t recognize as he greeted her.

“Can’t complain.” Ash leaned on the bar and looked over at Lara who was typing quickly on her phone. Ash hoped she wasn’t one of those people who couldn’t put the phone down. Ash’s mind began to spin, imagining Lara was telling her strategically stationed friend in the bar to be ready with a call that would provide her with an excuse to leave the crappy blind date.

“What will it be?” Matt broke into Ash’s paranoid musings.

“I’ll have an Appleton and coke, please. My friend said anything with vodka is fine by her.” Ash nodded toward Lara.

Matt’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at Lara. Ash knew that look. It was the same look she assumed was on her face when she first saw Lara. Something akin to lust and hope. “How about a Vodka Collins. A Tom Collins with vodka instead of gin?”

Ash nodded, and put her credit card on the bar. “Just open a tab, please.” Matt pulled the credit card off the bar, swiped it on the adjacent card reader, and handed it back to Ash. Within a minute, Ash was walking back to the table with two drinks in hand.

“You ended up with a Vodka Collins, which is a Tom Collins with your liquor of choice instead of gin.” Ash set the glasses on the table, and then slid into the booth next to Lara. She was relieved to see the phone had been put away.

Lara lifted the cocktail to her lips, and before drinking took a deep breath through her nose. “Mmm, lemon.” She looked at Ash’s drink. “What did you get?”

Ash took a sip of her rum and coke. “Appleton rum and coke. I’m usually a beer person, but this place makes me want to branch out.”

Lara smiled. “I feel that way about restaurants. Especially the ones with seasonal menus; so you can try new and fresh items.”

Ash nodded. “Any places in San Antonio you enjoy?”

Lara took a drink of the cocktail. “Feast. Which is actually not too far from here.”

Ash knew the restaurant. They specialized in tapas style plates that were a twist on American comfort food. “I know it. Haven’t been, but my brother and his wife went there last year for their anniversary and said it was great.”

Ash couldn’t help but stare at Lara’s eyes. She knew there were parts of Mexico where people looked Caucasian, and frequently had blonde hair and blue eyes. She had not seen anyone with dark skin and hair with the piercing light blue eyes Lara had. They reminded Ash of the Caribbean Ocean.

“You have siblings then?” Lara asked.

Ash took a mental breath as if she were getting ready to submerge herself in a pool of water. Lara and her were about to endeavor on the obligatory small talk indicative of all first dates. In the end, it frequently left Ash feeling like she had just finished a job interview. “Yes. Two brothers. Michael and Jason. I’m the middle child.”

Lara tilted her head to the left and smiled. “I hate small talk too.”

Ash’s eyes widened and she had a moment’s panic that she had given voice to her internal dialogue. “I - I guess it can’t be helped in situations like this.” Ash frowned at how inarticulate she had suddenly become.

Lara took another drink of her Vodka Collins. “It’s exhausting, and when my friend Ana suggested this I thought she was crazy.”

Ash chuckled. “Yeah. Your Ana is my Alan, and evidently they bonded over fashion and thought that qualified them to be match makers.”

Lara ran her manicured nail around the edge of her glass. “I’m not complaining.” She looked at Ash mischievously. “Yet.”

“I appreciate you giving me some time to make an ass out of myself.” Ash finished her drink.

Lara laughed. “It’s the least I can do.” She leaned forward and put her elbows on the table. “So let me see, I’m from Mexico City, but have been in the States for about six months. My favorite color is red, I like the sun and beaches. I don’t eat cooked fish, but like sushi.”

Lara pursed her lips as she looked at the ceiling. “And, what else? Oh, I don’t have any siblings, my parents are dead, and I don’t work because my extended family has money. Never married, no kids.” Lara finished the last of her cocktail in one long gulp before slamming the glass down dramatically on the table. “And done.” She looked at her platinum and gold Rolex. “Fastest get-to-know-you ever.”

Ash sat with her elbow on the table, and her chin resting in her palm. “Amazing.” She leaned back, and not to be outdone, took a deep breath.

“Middle child of three, never married, no kids, love my niece and nephews dearly, no pets, favorite color is black, born and raised in San Antonio, BS in Criminology from the University of Texas in Austin, dad’s retired firefighter, mom died three years ago, homicide detective with San Antonio P.D., enjoy a hoppy beer, and you’re weird with that whole sushi thing.”

Lara crunched down on an ice cube. “I know! I think badly of myself for that one.”

The two women looked at each other for several seconds with amused expressions. Clearly the tension had been broken. Ash nodded toward Lara’s empty glass. “Another round?”

“Yes, please.”

For the next hour Ash and Lara talked about current events, politics, and even managed a civil conversation about religion. Ash enjoyed the woman’s quick wit and appreciated her sarcasm. It wasn’t love at first sight, but Ash was definitely interested in seeing Lara again.

“How about an actual meal next week?” Ash said as she finished her third rum and coke.

Lara got her phone out, and after several seconds of swiping and button pressing said, “How about next Thursday at Feast?”

Ash mirrored Lara on her own phone. “I can do that. Seven good?”

Lara smiled. “Perfect.”

Ash closed out their tab, and graciously accepted Lara’s twenty dollar bill when she insisted on Dutch treat. They exited the bar and stood at the top of the concrete steps. “Where are you parked?” Ash asked.

“Around the other side, near Stella Public House.” Lara was digging around in her large red leather Luis Vuitton bag for her car keys.

“I’m across the way there, by the river.” Ash smiled.

Lara looked up at Ash. “I’ve had a good time, and look forward to next week.”

Ash nodded. “Me too.” Lara stepped forward, and wrapped her arms around Ash’s waist. They kissed quickly on the cheek. “Be safe.” Ash waved as Lara walked away.

Ash turned and was walking back to her Jeep, when she heard a familiar voice calling after her. “Ash?”

Turning around, Ash saw Emma getting out of her car. “Hey. We have to stop meeting at bars, people will start talking.”

Emma smiled. “I have to admit, I hesitated. I didn’t want you thinking I was an alcoholic stalker.”

Ash laughed. Emma had managed to make an actual joke, not just say something so off topic or peculiar that it amused Ash. Ash noticed Emma’s car was parked in one of the electric car recharging slots. “You drive a Nissan Leaf?” Ash walked toward the silver car.

Emma nodded. “I do. Purchased it last year, and have really liked it.” She pushed the unlock button on the remote. “Please, feel free to have a look inside.”

Ash opened the driver’s side door, and was immediately hit with the wonderful floral and soap scent she had come to associate with Emma. Smiling, Ash slid into the leather seat. “This is more spacious than I would have thought.”

Emma leaned into the cabin, resting her arm on the door. “Put your foot on the brake.” She leaned across Ash and pushed the keyless ignition button. “I’ve had no issues with the room or the driving range.”

Ash wasn’t looking at the car anymore. In fact she wasn’t even sure where she was because all she could focus on was how wonderful Emma smelled, and how perfect her neck was.

Fighting the urge to reach up and kiss the small mole just below her right ear, Ash forced herself to lean back in the seat. Emma turned to look at her, and their faces were inches from one another.

Ash swallowed hard, and bit her lower lip. Her heart felt like it was going to come out of her chest. Emma’s eyes flashed an intense blue before she quickly stood up. Ash took a deep breath trying to clear her head. Getting out of the car, she hoped she sounded calmer than she felt.

“It’s nice.” Emma had taken several steps back and stood with her back to Ash. Her shoulders looked tense, and Ash wondered if she had offended her. “Is it still running?”

Emma turned and any tension Ash had seen was gone as she smiled. “Zero emissions. No tail pipe, no engine noise.”

Ash nodded, and looked at the car again, grateful for the distraction. “It makes sense with the cost of gas.”

Emma took several steps toward Ash, and using the car’s remote powered it down. “EVs typically have a higher initial out of pocket cost, but naturally achieve better fuel economy and have lower fuel costs than similar conventional vehicles.” She dropped the remote in her brown leather Saint Laurent purse.

“Take, for example, your Jeep. It has an EPA combined city and highway fuel economy estimate of 21 miles per gallon, and can cost as much as eighty dollars to fill the twenty two gallon tank. Whereas the Leaf costs dramatically less because of the low cost of electricity relative to conventional fuel.” Emma gestured toward the Nissan. “I can drive two hundred and fifty miles on a charge that cost me less than five dollars.”

Ash was leaning against the side of the car with a smirk on her face, and her arms crossed over her chest. “And it’s good for the planet.”

Emma frowned. “Well yes, and that’s also -” She stopped, and squinted at Ash. “Are you making fun of me, detective?”

Ash pushed off the car. “Never, because I need your help with something.”

Emma cocked her head to the side. “What?”

Ash bit her lower lip. She hadn’t wanted to talk shop with the attractive doctor, but her confusion over the report Emma’s office had issued wouldn’t allow her to enjoy her time otherwise. “Ah, are you meeting someone?”

Emma shook her head. “No, I was going to have a drink and listen to the live music.”

“Do you mind a little shop talk and then maybe a drink at 1919?” Ash could see Emma hesitate. “So you can tell me why I shouldn’t have bought that gas guzzler.” Ash pointed at the Jeep.

A faint smile crossed Emma’s lips. “Okay, go ahead.”

Ash smiled, and looped her arm through Emma’s, pulling the doctor along. “Excellent. The Garrett case, how did fibrinolytic end-up in the bite marks?”

Emma stopped suddenly and Ash was pulled back, surprised by Emma’s strength. “Oh, that.”

Ash released Emma’s arm. “Yeah. A vampire bat enzyme in the bite marks. Bite marks that resemble, by one of the crime scene investigator’s comments, a vampire bite.” Ash chuckled as Emma’s eyes widened.

“Don’t worry, doctor, the investigator quickly qualified the comment by saying vampires don’t exist.” Ash continued to smile at the shocked look on the doctor’s face, no doubt caused by what she considered to be inappropriate speculation by one of her team members. “Have you ever seen anything like that?”

Emma shook her head. “No.”

Ash held her hands out in front of her. “Hey, I’m not challenging the finding. Please don’t think that, but I was hoping you could shed some light on how it got there.”

Emma looked down at the ground. “You seem frustrated.”

Ash nodded. “No shit. None of it makes sense. Cris and I are at our wits end with it.”

Emma winced. “I’m sorry, I wish I could give you some insight, but it would be speculative.”

Ash smiled. “Humor me, and speculate.”

Emma shook her head. “Oh, I couldn’t and risk -”

Ash put her left hand on Emma’s forearm. “Hey, we’re just two girlfriends getting ready to have a drink, and we happen to be chatting about a heinous crime scene.” Ash smiled and crossed her heart with her right hand. “Off the record - swear.”

Emma chewed nervously at the inside of her cheek. “It might be something the killer does as part of a ritual because the enzyme also stops blood from clotting; so -” Emma looked at Ash.

“Thrombogenesis is an important part of hemostasis, wherein a damaged blood vessel wall is covered by a platelet and fibrin-containing clot to stop bleeding. If that doesn’t occur, it expedites the victim’s blood loss and -” Emma shook her head. “The victim’s death.”

Ash nodded. “So the victim bleeds out faster, and -”

“It’s not about faster. Not all the bites had the enzyme; so it may be the killer has a rhyme and reason to the placement of the enzyme.”

Ash squinted. “I can’t imagine the enzyme is easy to come by?”

Emma nodded. “Very rare, especially with the recent interest in stroke treatment.”

Ash smiled. “Thanks, I have some ideas on where to start now. Distributors of the enzyme seem reasonable to you?”

Emma grinned. “Very reasonable conclusion, detective.”

Ash waved Emma toward the bar. “Come on, enough shop talk.” Emma followed, and Ash couldn’t stop from smiling. She felt better after the brief exchange with Emma, and the new direction she had to follow on the Garrett case. “By the way, kinda in awe of the fact you know more about my car than I do.”

Emma looked earnestly back at Ash’s Jeep. “Didn’t you research the vehicle before you purchased it?”

Ash laughed. “Evidently not enough.”

The two women made their way back into the bar, and the bartender looked up and greeted them. “Back so soon?”

Ash waved. “Yep.” She hoped Emma wouldn’t ask about her previous visit, because it occurred to her that being in the same bar, with two different women in the span of ten minutes could be misinterpreted.

Emma slid into the corner booth across from the bar. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Ash sat next to her. “No. This is good. Besides, they have perfectly cubed, Gibbs-friendly ice.” Ash winked.

Emma chuckled. “I know I tend to go off on details not everyone thinks are important, but I’m a firm believer that life hinges on the smallest detail.”

Ash nodded. “Oh, I agree. The quality of my cocktails is certainly a hingeable detail.”

“Now I know you’re making fun of me.” Emma waved the bartender over.

Ash held her thumb and forefinger apart by an inch. “Maybe a little.”

“Ladies what can I get you?” Matt asked.

“I’ll have the 90 Dogfish IPA.” Ash responded. She had already had three drinks with Lara and didn’t need the awkwardness of asking Emma to drive her home.

Emma looked past Matt at the lighted shelves of liquor bottles. “Glenlivet 21 on the rocks, please.”

Matt walked back toward the bar, and Ash reached into her back pant pocket to get her cell phone that had started vibrating. “Excuse me. It’s my brother.” Emma nodded.

“Hey, Michael.” Ash glanced up at Emma. “Quickly, I’m having drinks with a friend.” She caught Emma’s smile out of the corner of her eye, and couldn’t stop one from popping on her own lips. “I’ll get the cake. Yes, Lucy’s.” Ash mouthed an apology to Emma. “Yes I agree it is the best cake ever.” Ash rolled her eyes. “Got it. Love ya, bye.” She hit the end button and put the phone back in her pocket.

“Sorry. My one year old niece, Chelsea is getting baptized and I am the godmother, which somehow means that besides spiritual guidance, I also bring the cake.” Matt came back with the drinks, and blushed when Emma smiled at him.

Emma chuckled. “I think it’s great that you’re so close with your family.” Emma hesitated and reached for her drink. After a quick sip, she looked intently at Ash. “How has your family been since Elizabeth died?”

Ash took a deep breath. She had thought at some point this might come up, and she felt after three years she was able to talk about it. “It has been difficult. My dad - James - was a wreck, and seeing him hurt while hurting myself was a lot to handle.” Ash felt tears forming, and bit the inside of her cheek.

Emma reached across the table, and placed her hand on Ash’s “The death of a parent, especially one that was so obviously beloved, is devastating.”

Emma squeezed Ash’s hand. “And then one morning you wake up, and realize you slept a good night's sleep. You don’t hear her voice in your head all the time, but only some of the time.” The tears that had been threatening brimmed over, and Ash intertwined her fingers with Emma’s. “It becomes a useful sadness.”

The two women sat in a comfortable silence, and Ash felt like she could be still with Emma. For all of her awkwardness, and clear disdain for metaphor and euphemism, Emma always - in the end - said the right thing.

“Thank you.” Ash finally managed to lean back, but couldn’t bring herself to take her hand away; so she reached for a napkin with her free hand and wiped at her eyes and nose. “I seem prone to fits of crying with you.”

Emma released Ash’s hand, but instead of taking hers away, slid it up to Ash’s wrist and wrapped her cool hand around it, lightly stroking the pulse point in Ash’s wrist with her thumb. “Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.”

Ash cocked her head to the side, enjoying the sensation of Emma’s hand on her arm. “Buddha?”

Emma smiled. “Dr. Seuss.”

A burst of laughter erupted from Ash. “Another brilliant doctor.”

Emma pulled her hand back and took a drink of her scotch. Turning her attention to the far corner of the bar where a three piece jazz ensemble had been setting up, she smiled. “The music is going to start soon.”

Ash looked at Emma’s profile. In the past ten minutes, this beautiful woman had become exponentially more appealing to Ash. She wanted to know her, and she hoped they could be friends. Beyond that, Ash didn’t know, but for now a friendship with Emma seemed very precious. “Can we have dinner sometime?”

Emma turned and looked at Ash. “I would like that.”

Ash nodded as the band started playing Another Great Day, a medium tempo piece that she thought altogether appropriate.

Chapter 6

“You liked her. You want to marry her, don’t you?” Alan sat across from Ash on the Starbucks patio just after ten in the morning on a sunny Saturday. His aviator glasses were perched on top of his head as he drank his triple cappuccino.

“You’re such a child.” Ash took a bite of a blueberry muffin. She had liked Lara, but since she wasn’t in the mood for intense ribbing from Alan, she wouldn’t tell him she had enjoyed the last few hours of the previous evening with Emma more.

She and the doctor had stayed at Bar 1919 for the entire jazz set, and then stood in the parking lot afterwards talking for another half hour. Ash was amazed at how intelligent and informed her new friend was.

There wasn’t a topic of conversation the doctor wasn’t willing to broach. Even Emma’s tendency to get overly detailed hadn’t bothered Ash, considering the details pertained to interesting subjects that ranged from travel in the Middle East, the near collapse of the U.S. economy, and the European football clubs. Ash was even willing to forgive Emma for supporting Manchester United.

Alan leaned forward. “Tell me everything.”

Shaking her head, Ash laughed. “What’s to tell? She’s beautiful, funny. She can hold her liquor and we -” Ash intentionally cut herself off.

“What?! You what?” Alan nearly choked on his coffee.

“Calm down. We didn’t do that. For god’s sake, it was our first date.” Ash took a drink of her latte.

“Hey, I wouldn’t judge - out loud - at all.” Alan winked.

Ash thought she had tortured her well intentioned friend enough. “We like each other and we’re having dinner next Thursday.”

Alan pumped his fist in the air. “Yes!”

Ash leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs. “Thank you, Alan, for forcing me to date.” Ash stuck her tongue out.

Alan’s expression grew dramatically somber as he nodded. “You are welcome.” He stood, and put his cappuccino on the table. “Bio break. I’ll be right back.”

Ash’s phone vibrated on the table next to her. Picking it up, she smiled.

Is it too soon to text? It was Lara.

Ash quickly shot a response back. Who is this? j/k

Scary when all I can c is the question, not the j/k on my preview line. Lara responded.

Sorry Not too soon. Had a good time last night. Ash grinned.

Alan walked up and sat back down across from Ash. “Who’s that?”

“No one.” Ash put the phone down.

“It’s Lara, isn’t it?” Alan smiled.

“Maybe.” Ash smirked. “Yes.”

Alan leaned back and propped his legs up on the extra chair to his right. “I’m a match making god.”

Ash shook her head as her phone vibrated again. See you Thursday, detective.

A rush of heat shot through Ash. She wasn’t sure why Lara using her official title made her a little hot, but she wasn’t complaining.

***

Ash had finished coffee with Alan, and was walking into the San Antonio Police Department building in downtown San Antonio. The building always smelled of industrial strength disinfectant and its décor was outdated with green-speckled linoleum floors, and off-white painted walls. Ash was looking forward to moving over to the new complex that was under construction three blocks away next fall.

Ash rounded a corner and ran straight into Richard Dorsey. It was like walking into a brick wall, as he was a brute of a man at nearly 6’5” whose dim expression was not a ruse. Richard had been on the force for nearly twenty years, was in his mid-forties, and had never been promoted above Corporal. He had numerous write-ups for unnecessary force, and always smelled like wet cardboard with a terrible case of halitosis.

“Hi Officer Dorsey.” Ash looked up at the man, trying to hold her breath.

A broad smile appeared on the man’s face, revealing a row of misaligned teeth. “Detective Haines, in a hurry today?”

Ash stepped around the man and managed a smile. “Always. Take care, Dorsey.”

The man leered, and Ash could practically feel his eyes moving over her body. “You too detective.”

Ash shrugged off the creepy feeling she always got around Dorsey, and continued along the hallway until she came to the small office Cris and she shared.

“Yo, partner.” Cris looked up from a stack of files.

Ash shut the door. “Just ran into Dorsey.”

Cris continued looking at the files. “So you’ve lost your appetite?” He held out container of Pringle chips.

Ash smirked. “It takes more than a smelly baboon to ruin my appetite.” She grabbed the chips from Cris and sat down behind her desk.

Popping a crisp in her mouth, she thought about her and Emma’s conversation last night before drinks. She didn’t want to bring the doctor into this. A defense attorney putting a deputy medical examiner on the stand to ask if she and a homicide detective had discussed the possibility of a vampire bat committing the Garrett murder would get her tires slashed by the D.A.. “Partner, I was doing some research on Google.”

Cris glanced up. “Christ.”

Ash laughed. “Seriously, you have to get over this aversion to technology.”

Cris leaned back in his chair. “It’s not that. It’s an aversion to trends.”

Ash shook her head, and popped another chip in her mouth. “Is that why you refer to the Facebook, the Twitter and the Google?”

Cris scoffed. “I’m on the Twitter.”

Ash shook her head. “Yea, after Diane set your profile up for you. I think at last count you had eleven followers, and were following three news networks and the Dallas Cowboys.”

Cris sighed. “Give me my chips back.” Ash clutched the cylinder under her arm. Cris tisked. “So what did the Google say?”

Ash smiled. “It said that enzyme we don’t like to pronounce is very rare, and I bet if we trace distributors we may get a lead to our perp.”

Cris nodded. “The Google is brilliant.” He grinned.

“In spite of having an alibi, I still think Ela Jacobs, a.k.a. Michelle, knows something.” Ash closed the chip container.

“She sounded inappropriate and a little rude, but a brutal killer?” Cris made a note in the margin of one of his files.

Ash frowned. “She bothered me, and beyond that, didn’t seem too upset about Garrett’s death.”

Cris shook his head. “They had only been dating for a few weeks, and by her own admission hadn’t slept together - so how serious was it?”

Ash tied her dark hair back in a loose bun at the base of her neck. “Sleeping with someone isn’t necessarily an indication of how near-and-dear they are to you.” Ash had emoted more emotion than she had intended.

Cris looked out of the top of his eyes. “Speaking from experience?”

Ash shook her head. “Please, I sleep with all my dates.”

Cris laughed. “You’re such a liar, Haines.”

Ash turned her iPad on. “I get around, so don’t you worry about me.” She didn’t get around though, and she rarely slept around. She had a second date with Lara Ramirez in a few days, and she felt fairly confident she wouldn’t be getting around with her.

When Ash was honest with herself, which wasn’t always easy for her on the topic of relationships, she knew deep down she was old fashioned. As cliché as it was, sleeping with someone should mean something. Just thinking it, though, caused Ash to roll her eyes.

***

Ash sat in the dining room of Feast in historic Southtown. The restaurant was elegant and contemporary at the same time, with an open bar and kitchen area that afforded patrons a clear view of the inner workings of the New American, Mediterranean fusion eatery.

Ash took her wardrobe cue from Lara’s attire on their last outing. The Mexico native clearly had a flair for fashion, and the last thing she needed was word of a wardrobe inadequacy getting back to Alan. Therefore, Ash wore a pair of slate gray boot cut Kenneth Cole slacks, with a short sleeve, cobalt blue fitted buttondown Banana Republic shirt. Her favorite part of the outfit were her Anne Klein Costaro riding boots.

“You haven’t been waiting too long?” Lara’s voice broke through the background chatter of the restaurant as she stood next to the table.

Ash looked up, and again her breath caught at how attractive the woman was. Her eyes seemed even clearer in the lights of the restaurant, and her hair, which she had pulled back in a loose knot, shimmered.

Ash stood. “Not at all.” She leaned in, and quickly kissed Lara on the cheek.

Lara sat across from Ash. She didn’t disappoint in her attire. Ash admired her dark, low rise Levi’s skinny jeans and white V-neck tee, which she had accented perfectly with a long braided silver necklace and hooped ear rings.

“Are those Tory Burch?” Ash asked as she looked down at her date’s beige leather wedges.

Lara smiled. “Good eye. Do you like them?”

Ash nodded. “Like them? I covet them.”

Lara glanced down at her shoes, and then back at Ash. “Just the shoes?”

Ash blushed at Lara’s flirting. “A woman can’t live on shoes alone, even if they are Tory Burch.”

Lara winked and leaned back in her chair with the menu. “How was your day?”

“Oh, I have a case that’s making me crazy, but nothing that’s appropriate dinner talk.” Ash said as she looked over her menu. “What did your day look like?”

Lara smiled. “Oh, fair to partly cloudy.”

Ash chuckled. “So we’ve resorted to talking about the weather?”

“And shoes, don’t forget the shoes.” Lara winked.

The two women ordered several courses and Lara asked Ash about her childhood, and her family. Ash was always happy to talk about her brothers, niece and nephew. She had no interest in having children, but she knew she made a fantastic aunt.

“You spoil them then?” Lara asked as she took a drink of her after dinner coffee.

Ash scoffed. “Spoil has such a negative connotation.”

Lara smiled as she patted at her mouth with the cloth napkin she had folded in her lap. “Indulge?”

Ash nodded and took the last bite of her flourless chocolate cake. “Yes. I like indulge much better.”

“How was the cake?” Lara nodded toward the confection.

“I offered you a bite.” Ash teased.

“I’m not partial to sweets.” Lara said casually.

“Then you haven’t tried the right desserts, my friend.” Ash put her fork down. “My niece Chelsea is getting baptized this Sunday, and my brother Michael insists on Lucy’s cake.” Ash paused. “Do you know Lucy’s?”

Lara grinned. “I know a Lucy, but what are the odds?”

Ash smiled. “You would know if you had met the Lucy.” Ash leaned back in her chair. “Best cake ever. The icing is so thick you can just swim in it.” Ash held her thumb and forefinger nearly two inches apart.

Lara laughed. “Your family is Catholic then?”

Ash nodded. “Out of habit I think more than anything else.”

Lara’s eyes narrowed. “I was raised Catholic. Brutal religion.”

Ash’s brow furrowed. “Maybe it’s different in Mexico. We do a lot of potlucks at our church.”

Lara looked at Ash for several seconds. The frown on her face made her look angry. Then as if a switch flipped, Lara sighed and managed a smile. “Real, real Catholics, not this Catholic lite you Americans play at.”

Ash was glad the tension had passed. She didn’t want to get into a debate about religion even if she had very little skin in the game. “We prefer our Catholicism buffet style.” Ash winked.

Lara waved the waiter over. “Please let me get this.”

Ash shook her head. “Dutch - all the way.”

Lara started to protest, and then shook her head. “Okay then.”

The two women paid their bills and walked out of the restaurant. Feast sat in a hybrid residential and commercial neighborhood; so they had to walk several blocks to get to where they had parked.

“I’m up another block.” Ash said, pointing down the tree lined street. She was immediately aware of Lara’s hand on her waist as she stepped toward Ash. Her heart racing, Ash leaned toward Lara and their lips met.

The kiss was tentative at first, and then Lara stepped closer, bringing the full length of their bodies together. A soft moan escaped Lara’s mouth as her tongue made contact with Ash’s. Placing her hand lightly on the side of Lara’s neck, Ash marveled at how soft and warm her lips felt.

Lara stepped back first, and smiled. Her skin was flush. “I enjoyed dinner.”

Ash reached down and took Lara’s hand in hers. “Me too, even with the weather talk.”

Lara grinned and released Ash’s hand as she stepped toward her black Mercedes. “Not that again.”

“I’m running out of material.” Ash teased.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, and we can plan another outing.” Lara slid into the driver’s seat.

Ash backed away, knowing she looked like a fool with the cheesy grin across her face. “Absolutely.”

Walking toward her Jeep, Ash still felt the tingle of Lara’s lips on hers. She was growing fonder of the beautiful woman, and hoped the feeling was mutual.

***

“I don’t see what the harm is in discussing the case?” Ash persisted in spite of the pained look on Emma’s face. Her outing with the doctor was going significantly worse than her date with Lara two days ago. They had met at Grimaldi’s Pizza in the Quarry Market, and things had been tense since Ash started asking questions about the Garrett autopsy. Emma was being defensive and evasive.

“I can’t – I don’t want to be responsible for inadvertently sending you down the wrong path with a misinformed assumption or speculation.” Emma countered as she clenched and unclenched her napkin.

Ash let out an exasperated sigh. “Emma, this isn’t a court room. You’re not under oath.” Ash shook her head. “I’m responsible for the conclusions I draw. Not you.” She was torn between wanting to reassure her friend, and telling her how utterly ridiculous she was being.

Emma looked at Ash for several seconds, her face expressionless. Finally, she swallowed, and looked down at her pizza. “Honestly, I spend ten to twelve hours a day with my work.”

Without looking up at Ash, she continued. “I know you do too; so I trust you’ll understand when I say I want –” Emma finally looked up and met Ash’s gaze. “I want you and me to be separate from that. I want it to be about us, and not the work.”

Ash’s breath caught at the simplicity of her friend’s candor, and she felt guilty having suspected Emma of hiding something from her. “I want that too.” Ash smiled. “That’s all you had to say, silly.” Ash nudged Emma’s arm.

Emma hesitated and then smiled. “Thank you.”

Ash nodded, and the two women resumed their dinner. Ash looked across the table at her friend, who had just taken a bite of vegetarian pizza. Ash’s esteem of Emma grew when she saw the doctor fold the thin crust pizza up before taking a bite.

With a mouth full of pizza, Emma looked at Ash. “What?”

Ash grinned. “I’m glad you’re enjoying the pizza.”

Emma finished chewing and wiped her mouth. “I read an article when this place first opened, and found it fascinating that to ensure continuity of product between their satellite stores and the original Grimaldi’s in Brooklyn, they have a special water osmosis filtration system that renders the water in any city nearly identical to the Brooklyn water.” Emma took a drink of her water. “So the dough is practically the same.”

Ash finished chewing a bite of her peperoni and sausage pizza before responding. “Starbucks does the same thing. Triple reverse osmosis system in every store. Costs them a hundred thousand dollars, but you get the same cup of coffee every time.”

Ash suddenly wanted to punch herself. She was turning into her friend and spouting off trivial bits of information. If she hung out with Emma enough, her simple and compound sentences would start morphing into compound complex sentences.

“I’m not a huge fan of their coffee.” Emma shrugged. “Coffee in general, actually. I prefer tea.”

Ash’s eyebrow arched. “You know they just bought Teavana?”

Emma winced. “I know. Hopefully they let it be business as usual.” She reached for another slice of pizza.

Ash watched Emma as she folded her pizza slice and took a bite. She continued to be amazed at how comfortable she felt with the doctor. In spite of their differences, the friendship worked. Given Emma’s recent admission about their relationship being more than work, Ash felt confident she felt the same.

Chapter 7

Ash sat at her desk, staring at her notes from the Garrett case along with the M.E. report. Her frustrations were growing as she continued struggling to piece together what seemed like random facts and elusive details.

“Detective Haines?” Samantha Reynolds was a twenty-three year old, dark haired, Hispanic intern who helped around the station while she worked on her Bachelors of Science in Criminology. Ash had always had an affinity for the girl, given their shared field of study.

“What’s up Sam?” Ash caught a flash of purple as the girl pushed the office door completely open. In her arms was a gorgeous arrangement of purple and lavender roses, stock and waxflower, accented with fresh greens.

“These came for you.” The petite intern struggled to carry the enormous arrangement.

Ash quickly got up out of her chair, and took the flowers from Sam. “Thanks. Sorry you had to lug them all the way down here. You could have buzzed me.”

Sam smiled. “I don’t mind. Besides, they smell so good.”

Ash had received flowers several times in her life from both family and people she was romantically involved with, but those paled in comparison to this colossal assortment. “They really do. Thanks Sam.” Ash began looking for a card when she noticed the young woman wasn’t going anywhere. “Was there something else?”

Sam blushed, and looked down. “We were curious who they’re from.”

Ash knew the we Samantha spoke of was the pool of assistants and receptionists that worked throughout the station. No doubt one of them had rung the delivery person in, and now the gaggle of them wanted details. Ash shook her head as she had no intention of becoming a topic of gossip in the office. She began walking around the arrangement, and seeing the small envelope discreetly tucked into the flowers, Ash reached out and quickly grabbed the paper while Sam stood on the other side. Tucking it into her pant pocket, she peered around the flowers. “Looks like there isn’t a card, or it fell off.”

Sam frowned. “I thought for sure I saw a card.” She looked around the arrangement at where Ash had just taken the envelope from. Then looking up and seeing Ash’s intense stare, the young girl winced. “My mistake. I’ll tell the front desk - ah, no card.”

Ash nodded. “Thanks, Sam.” The girl quickly left the office, shutting the door behind her. Ash pulled the small envelope from her pocket and opened it, wondering what Lara had written. Thank you for a lovely dinner and for understanding. Your Friend, E.

Ash stood perfectly still for several seconds as she processed this lovely gesture from her friend and how she felt about it.

It’s perfectly fine for a friend to send another friend flowers. Especially after we had a bit of a tiff last night. Ash sat down at her desk and positioned the vase of flowers on the corner. Then why am I beyond ecstatic that these are from Emma, and when I thought they were from Lara I was only pleasantly pleased?

“Sweet Jesus, that’s an impressive handful of dead things.” Ash was brought out of her pondering by Cris coming in the office. Before she could respond with her usual sarcasm, she saw their Lieutenant, Robert Edwards, behind Cris.

Ash stood up smartly behind her desk. “Morning, sir.”

Robert Edwards was nearly twenty pounds overweight at 5’8” tall, with thinning gray hair. He was a career officer who had been promoted to Lieutenant of Homicide over three years ago. The Lieutenant was a reasonable man, but he hated excuses and didn’t abide failure. Ash assumed he was here to talk to her and Cris about the open, and still very unsolved, Garrett case.

“What have you two got on Garrett?” Robert sat on the edge of Ash’s desk, eyeing the large arrangement.

Ash looked at Cris, who nodded, indicating she was up to bat. “One person of interest. Girlfriend who may have aided the perp. Unusual bite marks and saliva on the victim; so we are looking into possible ritual killing or even a fledgling killer who might have committed similar crimes elsewhere.”

Edwards looked from the flowers to Cris, and then at Ash. “You’re at the three week mark, Haines. The trail will only get colder. Why hasn’t this person of interest been brought in for formal questioning?”

“She has an alibi, sir, which is why we think she knows the perp, or aided them in some way.” Ash forced herself to breathe so her voice wouldn’t tighten up. “And based on her attitude during my initial interview, I doubt she would come in of her own fruition.”

“Hello, Detective Haines.” Ela’s melodic voice filled the small office.

Ash jerked her head around, her mouth open. “Ah, Ms. Jacobs.”

Ela smiled and came into the office, both Cris and Robert stood. “Please, Detective Haines, I give you my permission to call me Ela.” She turned her attentions to Robert. “And who is this?”

The Lieutenant cleared his throat and stretched out his hand. “Robert Edwards, Ms. Jacobs.”

Ela winked as she took the man’s hand. “Ela.” Turning toward Cris, she extended her hand.

“You must be Detective Haines’ partner, Cristelo Martinez.” Ela’s accent was perfect as she took Cris’ hand between both of hers. “Is that spelled without the ‘h’?”

Cris nodded. “Yes, Ms –”

Ela release Cris’ hand and shook her finger at him teasingly. “Ela, please.”

Ash managed to regain her composure. “Ms. Jacobs, how did you get back here?”

Ela turned toward Ash. “I showed them my ID, told them I had an appointment, and I was buzzed through.” She grinned.

Ash looked at Robert who shook his head. “I’ll go take care of this. Ela, it was a pleasure.” The lieutenant left the office, his irritation over the security breach clear by the tension in his shoulders.

“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Cris gestured for the woman to sit in the chair at the end of his desk.

Ela moved gracefully through the cramped space and sat in the chair. Crossing her legs, she put her elbow on the edge of Cris’ desk. “Cristelo, I’m sure you heard I behaved rather badly when your partner approached me at Paul’s funeral.”  Ela glanced at Ash and frowned. “I was so deep in my own grief I wasn’t myself.”

Ash had to stifle a laugh. “Something’s deep.”

Cris smirked and looked closely at the woman. Her skin was flawless, and her eyes were the most intense blue he had ever seen. “What can you tell us about Mr. Garrett’s death?”

Ela turned her attentions back to Cris. “I don’t know if I can help at all, but I would like to make a formal statement. Maybe there is something I know and don’t even realize may assist you with the investigation.”

Cris nodded, and got up from his desk. “Let me get a recorder, and we can take your statement.”

Ash shifted in her chair as she studied the woman. She was too perfect in her pose and appearance. Not even a hair seemed out of place. “You’re staring, Detective Haines. See anything you like?”

Ash blinked and looked Ela directly in the eye. “Nothing.”

Ela smiled, her perfectly straight, white teeth peeking out from under her full, pink lips. “Perhaps your affections are in reserve for the one who sent you such beautiful flowers?” Ela stood and walked toward the arrangement, gently stroking one of the roses.

“My affections are none of your concern.” Ash’s voice was flat.

Ela grinned and cocked her head to the side. “Love is always my concern, detective. Relationships are what make the world go around. For better or ill.”

Ash didn’t want to have a conversation about love and hate with a woman she suspected murdered, or aided in the murder, an innocent man. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.” Ash’s attempt to end the line of conversation seemed to only encourage Ela.

“No? Don’t you date, detective?” Ela practically purred the question.

Ash shook her head. “Again, that’s none of your concern.”

Ela smiled. “Have you ever been to Mexico, detective?”

Before Ash could answer, Cris came back in with a recorder and wireless microphone. “Here we go. Just a few minutes to set-up.” He put the devices down on his desk. “Ash, can you get the consent form out for Ms. Jacobs to sign, please?”

Ash pulled the form from a stack in her drawer. “By signing this, you are waiving your right to counsel and attesting all statements made are truthful to the best of your knowledge. Do you understand?”

Ela bit her lower lip. “Very by-the-book, detective.” She reached for a pen on Cris’ desk and without reading the form, signed and dated the document. Ash took the form, and noticed the European formatted date with the day before the month. Maybe Poland wasn’t too far off the mark?

Ash wanted desperately to piece this woman’s life together. All of the searches had turned up nothing on Ela Michelle Jacobs. There was no record of her, and even with the copy of her identification this statement entitled them to, Ash doubted she would find any clues to where this woman came from. It was odd how even after meeting Ela, she was no less a mystery to Ash than when she was a faceless woman named Michelle.

“Speak into the microphone, Ela.” Cris pressed the record button. “Please state your name.”

“Ela Michelle Jacobs.” Ela grinned.

“Your date of birth.” Cris continued.

“Older than twenty-one, detective.” Ela winked.

“Your date of birth.” Ash interrupted.

Ela frowned. “Fine. December seventh, nineteen seventy eight.” The woman stuck out her lip in an exaggerated pout, but then her face went like stone and her eyes flashed an iridescent blue as her stare focused at a point over Ash’s right shoulder.

Ash turned slowly to see what was causing such a pained expression on the woman’s face. Looking through the glass window of her office door, Ash saw Emma standing in the hall talking to one of the patrol officers. She was smiling and something the officer had said triggered a full-on laugh from the doctor.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. I suddenly remembered an appointment.” Ela stood and picked her purse up from Cris’ desk.

“But we’ve only just started.” Cris left the tape recorder running as he maneuvered around his desk.

“Let’s try again tomorrow? Say three o’clock?” Ela was at the door.

Ash watched in utter confusion, as the usually confident and irreverent woman stammered and nearly sprinted from their office.

“What the hell?” Cris asked as he stood with his hand on the open door’s knob. “I’ll be right back, partner.” He turned left out of the door and headed toward the lieutenant’s office.

Ash stood and stepped out into the hall. Ela had taken an immediate right out of the office, guaranteeing she would not cross paths with Emma. Ash looked at the unassuming doctor, and tried to figure out what had spooked Ela.

Ash cleared her throat. “Dr. Atman.” She used her friend’s official title in the workplace out of respect and to mitigate any unwarranted gossip.

Emma turned her head and realizing it was Ash, smiled. “Detective Haines. Nice to see you.”

“If you have a minute, could you pop in when you’re done?” Ash gestured over her shoulder with an outstretched thumb.

Emma nodded. “Of course.”

Ash stepped back into her office, switched the recorder off, and took a seat. She picked up her stylus and fidgeted with it while she waited for Emma. Ela Jacobs was strange, but not just her behavior. The way she moved and spoke seemed surreal, fluid and seamless.

And what the hell was that shit about dating and Mexico? Ash sat up in her chair, panic setting in as she wondered if Ela had been following her, and knew about Lara.

Ash picked up her phone from her desk and quickly scrolled through her recent contacts, highlighted Lara’s name and hit send. Emma walked into the office as the phone rang. She walked around Ash’s desk and sat in the chair Ela had occupied moments before, a smile on her face as she admired the arrangement of flowers on Ash’s desk.

“Hey it’s me.” Ash’s shoulders relaxed as she heard Lara’s voice. “I know, usually I text, but what can I say, desperate to hear your voice.” Ash smiled as she looked at Emma. Holding up her index finger, she mouthed the call would take one minute. Emma nodded.

“I’m confirming we are still on for dinner.” There was a pause as Ash nodded. “Wonderful, see you then.” She hit the end button, and could tell from Lara’s tone the woman was confused by her random call, but she had no intention of sharing her concerns about Ela unless she had something substantive to back them up.

“That sounded like a pleasant exchange.” Emma looked at Ash’s phone, which she had placed back on the desk.

“It was.” Ash hadn’t talked to Emma about Lara yet. The topic hadn’t come up and Ash was trying not to make a big deal out of the burgeoning relationship for fear she might jinx it. “A woman I just started dating.”

Emma nodded slowly. “Is it serious?”

Ash grinned. “No, but it could get around to that.”

Emma bit her lower lip. “That’s great.” The doctor shifted in the chair. “You needed something?” The shift in Emma’s tone was palpable. For all of her technical jargon she was always welcoming and warm. That had all but disappeared before Ash’s eyes.

Undeterred, Ash stood up and crossed the small space. “First, these flowers are gorgeous, and I had a warm fuzzy that you thought of me.” She pulled the stunned doctor out of the chair, and wrapped her arms around Emma’s stiff shoulders realizing it wasn’t just her hands that were cold, but her entire body was cool to the touch. She was also surprised at how solid the woman in her arms felt.

Within seconds, Emma’s posture relaxed, and she slid her arms around Ash’s waist. It was the first time they had hugged. The sensation of Emma’s body pressed to hers, and her arms pulling them closer together sent a spark of electricity skittering through Ash’s body. She quickly moved away without looking at Emma. “It’s been ages since I’ve got flowers.” Ash sat back down at her desk, hoping she had stopped blushing, and could make eye contact with her friend.

“I’m glad you like them, Ash.” Emma’s voice had a deeper resonance to it than usual.

Ash looked up, worried her display of affection had offended the woman, but instead she found a warm smile on Emma’s face. Ash wanted to say something more, something that would move them past this awkward moment, but also to reassure Emma that she didn’t have feelings for her friend.

“I was wondering if you wanted to watch a soccer game? Any Saturday through November. Nine o’clock in the morning at STAR Complex.” Ash felt the topic of sports was neutral enough.

Emma smiled, and the tension in her shoulders faded. “Who plays?”

Ash grinned. “My nephew Aiden. I coach his team.”

Emma’s eyebrow arched. “That’s wonderful.”

Ash nodded. “They’re eight and nine, so I promise they are past that whole swarm-soccer phase. Aiden is turning into an awesome sweeper.” She had extended the invitation to break the tension from the hug, but now Ash really hoped Emma would accept.

“I would love that. Can I bring Coleen? She’s a fan of football as well.” Emma asked.

Ash felt a lump in her throat, and immediately hated herself for what she recognized as jealousy. She still wasn’t convinced Coleen and Emma’s relationship was platonic, and she also knew - given her relationship with Lara - it was completely hypocritical of her to care.

“The more the merrier.” Ash forced an enthused smile.

“Hey doc, long time.” Cris entered the office, and sat down at his desk.

Emma turned her attention to Cris and smiled warmly. “Detective Martinez, it’s nice to see you again.”

Cris leaned back in his chair and smiled. “I guess Ash told you we had an odd one in here earlier.”

Emma looked at Ash and then back at Cris. “We hadn’t got to that point yet.”

“Actually it’s about the Garrett case.” He looked at Ash and then at Emma. The tension from earlier still hung in the air.

“A lead?” Emma asked as she leaned forward in the chair.

Cris shook his head. “Maybe, but she’s not being helpful.” He wasn’t sure what was going on between the doctor and his partner, but the two women seemed uncomfortable with one another. “Ela Jacobs. Garrett’s girlfriend.”

Emma’s jaw clenched. “She was here?”

The tension in Emma’s voice snapped Ash out of her awkwardness. “Just a few minutes ago.”

Emma nodded, her shoulders tensing. “And nothing useful came out of the exchange?”

Cris shook his head. “Not a thing. She skidded out of here claiming she was late for some appointment and -”

Emma stood up. “Speaking of appointments, please forgive me detectives, but I am here on business and running late.” Not waiting for a response, Emma opened the door, hesitated for a second as she lifted her head and took a deep breath in through her nose. “Good day.”

Ash and Cris sat in stunned silence. Cris lifted his arm, stuck his face in his armpit, and took a deep breath. “I’m sure it’s me.”

Ash got up, and shut the office door. “My assumption as well.”

She flopped back down in her chair, looking at the purple and lavender flower arrangement, she felt drained from the roller coaster ride she had been on for the past hour. Things were taking a turn in the wrong direction, leaving Ash with a feeling there were moving parts spinning all around her that she couldn’t see. More to the point, parts she was being made not to see.

“You’re drifting on me, partner.” Cris’ voice interrupted Ash’s introspection.

She leaned her elbows on the desk. “Your hygiene aside, weren’t both their exits strange?”

Cris shrugged as he slid a file into the cabinet behind his desk. “Ela is strange, and the doctor was clearly here for other reasons to begin with.”

Ash shook her head and leaned back in her chair. “I’m sure it’s nothing, but doesn’t the whole case seem like a bad Law and Order episode meets Buffy the Vampire Slayer?”

Cris laughed. “You’re not buying that whole vampire thing, are you? This is real life, Ash, not a crappy movie.”

Ash squinted and bit her lower lip. “No, wait - this is exactly how it happens. You and I sit here, and I say there’s something weird going on.”

Ash stood up. “I say there are forces not of this world.” She looked down at Cris and waggled her eyebrows up and down several times. “Then you say, stick to the facts, Haines, and we argue, and then someone dies badly.”

Cris laughed out loud. “Everyone dies badly. It’s the nature of dying.” He put his feet up on his desk.

Ash slumped back down in her chair. “Something is off.”

Cris looked at his partner for a few seconds. “What’s going on with you and the doctor? I nearly suffocated from the tension when I walked in earlier.”

Ash was surprised by the question, but managed a vague shrug. “We’re friends.”

Cris rolled his eyes. “Shit.”

“What?” Ash refused to make eye contact with Cris.

“Why would you want to be friends with her?” Cris asked.

Ash huffed. “That’s rude.”

“What I meant was she’s beautiful and smart. Sure, she’s a little weird, but hell, if you asked Diane she’d tell you I was from another planet half the time.” Cris grinned.

Ash wasn’t sure where to take this conversation. In the four years she and Cris had worked together, she had dated a few women, but he had never taken an interest in her relationships.

His wife Diane, on the other hand, wasn’t subtle, and there had been many a night she and Ash had polished off a six pack of beer and talked about why Ash hadn’t settled down. Ash always assumed her partner and his wife talked, but this was a rare occasion when Cris asked Ash directly.

“She is all those things, but we’re too different.” Ash decided to take the safe route and not open up about her feelings for Emma, or the inherent conflict she felt about dating Lara.

Cris looked at Ash, his brows furrowed. “You have the one thing in common.”

Ash braced herself for the punch line. “What’s that?”

A slow smile spread over Cris’ mouth. “You’re both weird.”

***

Sunday morning had been hectic for Ash. She had finished her shift the afternoon before and just barely had enough time to make it over to Lucy’s Cake Shop to pick up the yellow sheet cake with buttercream icing before the small, family owned bakery closed for the day.

“Where’s the cross?” Michael had asked, standing in his kitchen as he opened the white box lid to examine the cake.

Ash popped the bottle cap off the Shiner Bock beer her sister-in-law Amy had handed her. “Ah, what cross?”

Michael shook his head. “How can you have a christening cake without a cross?”

Ash turned her head to bring the upside down cake into focus. “There’s an angel figurine.” She smiled at Amy who was pouring a bag of potato chips into a large plastic bowl.

“I think it’s beautiful, Ash.” Amy smiled.

“See Michael? And you wouldn’t want to disagree with your wife, would you?” Ash smirked as she took a drink of her beer.

“I just figured there would be a cross.” Michael frowned, his tone verging on pouty.

Ash put her beer down on the granite counter top, and walked around the small island to stand next to her younger brother. “Kinda twisted if you ask me. Eating the cross. That can’t be right, Mike.”

In spite of his best efforts to be irritated with his sister, Michael let out a full throated laugh. “Well, when you put it like that.”

The rest of the evening had been busy with last minute planning. Now, Ash stood in front of the full length wood framed mirror in her bedroom trying to decide if the gun metal gray Kate Spade suede heels, or the light gray Chanel patent leather heels went better with the knee length rose colored pencil skirt she had on. She rarely wore skirts, but most of her slacks were gray or black, and didn’t seem appropriate for the festive event.

Deciding on the Kate Spade heels, Ash pulled a light gray, clingy, long sleeve, crew neck blouse over her head. As she reached for the gold tone and raspberry bubble necklace, her cell phone rang.

Assuming it was one of her family members with their one hundredth requests for the day, Ash didn’t bother to look at the caller ID. “I won’t be on time if I can’t get dressed in peace, Michael.”

There was a long pause, and then a woman’s voice hesitantly spoke. “Ash?”

Ash slammed her eyes shut, recognizing Emma’s voice immediately. “Oh, Emma, I thought - well you see I’m trying to get ready for my - remember when I mentioned my niece’s baptism - and this-”

Ash literally bit the tip of her tongue in hopes of squelching the nonsensical ramblings coming out of her mouth. “Good morning, Emma.”

There was a faint laugh on the other end of the phone. “Good morning, Ash. It sounds like you are in the middle of things, so I’ll call you back later.”

Ash was in a hurry, but she hadn’t spoken with Emma since her hurried exit from her and Cris’ office earlier in the week, and to Ash’s surprise, she had missed her. “No, I can multitask if you don’t mind being put on speaker.”

“That’s no problem.” Emma assured.

Ash hit the speaker icon on the touch screen of her phone, and laid the device on her dresser while she continued to pull her outfit together. “What’s up?”

“I know this is last minute, and I would understand if your family gathering today wouldn’t permit you to, but I have tickets to a beer pairing dinner at Sustenio tonight, and I -”

Ash listened as the doctor went on, and she had the distinct impression her friend was nervous. “And beer made you think of me?”

Emma cleared her throat. “Well, yes, but not with an intervention implication.”

Ash laughed. The longer she knew Emma the more she grew to appreciate her humor, which like Ash’s was rooted in a deep appreciation of sarcasm. “What time does it start?”

“The dinner runs from six to eight.” Emma answered.

Ash did a quick calculation in her head as to when she would be done with her family commitments for the day. “Perfect. I can meet you there.”

Emma sounded relieved. “Wonderful. See you there.”

Ash smiled. “Sounds good, bye.” She pressed the end button and returned to the mirror. Looking at her ensemble one last time, she decided she was presentable to be Chelsea’s godmother. She felt a surge of excitement rush through her, in part because she was fortunate enough to be participating in a very important day for her only niece. In addition to that, Ash verged on giddy over the unexpected time she would have with Emma tonight.

You should take five minutes and figure out why that is. Ash thought as she walked toward her Jeep. Oh, I don’t have to think about that now, I can think about that tomorrow.

Smiling as she started the car, she remembered a line from her mother’s favorite movie. If I do, I'll go crazy. I'll think about that tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day.

Thinking of her mother caused the previous euphoria to be replaced with twinges of sadness. Chelsea had been born a little less than a year ago. Elizabeth never met the adorable child who everyone agreed had her grandmother’s round, chocolate colored eyes, and dimples in either cheek. Ash felt tears begin to sting her eyes as she thought about everything Chelsea would miss because of her grandmother’s untimely death.

Elizabeth Haines had taught second grade for nearly ten years before leaving a profession she dearly loved to raise a family she absolutely adored. The wife and mother had never lost her passion for teaching, and her love of children. Ash wished Chelsea could have the opportunity to sit across the dining room table from her grandmother, and learn her multiplication tables. Or curl up in her grandmother’s lap in the large overstuffed recliner in the den and learn how all the king’s horses and all the king’s men could not put Humpy Dumpty back together again.

Parking in front of Saint Mark’s Catholic Church, Ash took several steadying breaths before getting out of her car. The parking lot was about a quarter full, and Ash recognized several of the cars as belonging to her immediate family. Locking her door, Ash walked toward the front entrance of the church wiping at her damp eyes. She realized life wasn’t about endings. It was about transition, because where her mother had disappeared, a beautiful baby girl had appeared.

***

Ash walked quickly toward her apartment, her heels clicking on the concrete of the parking garage. She looked at her watch and swore under her breath. The barbecue that followed Chelsea’s christening ran much later than anticipated. Now she had less than an hour before she was scheduled to meet Emma. She still needed to take a shower and change before making the twenty minute drive to the restaurant. She didn’t want to see the doctor smelling like smoke and cooked beef.

Pushing the front door open with her foot, Ash tossed her keys on the end table next to her sofa and walked back to the kitchen. Her sister-in-law had sent her home with at least a pound of brisket, and two pieces of the cross-less cake. Ash put the food-laden plastic bags on the counter. Her hand was on the handle of the stainless steel refrigerator when she felt a chill shoot up her spine as if someone had just ran finger nails down a chalkboard.

An odd odor wafted over Ash. It smelled like rotted meat and wet leaves. Ash turned and put her back to the refrigerator. Taking a deep breath in through her nose, she tried to determine where the foul stench was coming from.

There was a sudden movement to her right, but before she could turn her head a sharp pain shot along her right jaw. Her teeth felt like they were going to vibrate out of her head as she grabbed her cheek.

Sinking to her knees, the floor felt like it was suddenly shifting under her feet. Ash managed to put her left arm out to brace herself as she fell to the tile floor. The odor from earlier was all around her, and she felt bile rise in her throat as an oppressive weight bore down on her back and shoulders.

A low growl slithered into Ash’s ears followed by the hissing of a man’s voice. “Remember, I was this close.”

Air rushed back into Ash’s lungs as both the weight of the man and the odor were suddenly gone. Ash rolled to her back, and immediately thought better of it as sharp stabbing pain consumed the right side of her head. Trying desperately to stay conscious, Ash reached for the refrigerator handle, hoping to pull herself up to a seated position. Her head lifted a fraction of an inch off the tile floor, and a wave of nausea swept through her. She turned her head to the side, fearful she would choke on her own vomit.

Several heaves later and there was even more pain ripping through Ash’s head. A heavy blackness was pushing into her eyes. It started in her peripheral vision, and within seconds had shrunk her vision on a pinhead size spot on the pine cabinets that lined her kitchen.

Realizing she was going to pass out, Ash focused all her attention on shifting to her side. She knew if she passed out, and vomited again, she could aspirate and die. Turning onto her left side, Ash felt her stomach lurch again, and then the room went black.

***

It was incredibly hot. Ash felt waves of prickling heat shoot up her legs, into her stomach and along her neck. Then there was a cool, soothing hand on her cheek.

“Ash. It’s Emma. I’ve called an ambulance. Just lay still.” Ash heard Emma’s voice, but in her delirium couldn’t understand why the doctor was in her kitchen, and not waiting for her at Sustenio. Ash wanted to ask the obvious question, but her tongue felt thick and heavy in her mouth. The cool hand gently stroked her forehead, and the heat from earlier began to lessen.

“Em - how?” Ash felt like she was talking under water.

“Shhhh. Be still.” Emma’s voice seemed strained, and Ash hoped she hadn’t upset her by being late for their dinner.

“Sorry I’m late.” Ash managed.

“You’re not late. Don’t worry.” Emma’s voice was low and next to Ash’s ear.

Ash tried to open her eyes so she could see the doctor, and know if her tardiness was the cause of her friend’s strained voice. “I’m so tired.” Ash muttered as she reached for Emma.

Ash heard voices and felt herself being rocked back and forth. There were a series of bright lights, and then a very loud man’s voice. “Detective Haines! Ashley! Open your eyes!” The man’s voice moved through Ash like waves, and she felt another bout of nausea wash over her. She turned her head to the left and dry heaved into a small pink bowl.

A cool cloth was placed over her forehead, and Ash laid back. She realized she wasn’t on her kitchen floor anymore and Emma wasn’t holding her. “Where am I?” Her voice was hoarse and she needed a drink of water.

“You’re at University Hospital. There was an intruder in your home, and you were knocked unconscious.” The man’s voice continued to fill Ash’s aching head.

“Where’s Emma?” Ash swallowed hard, her throat felt like scorched earth. Blinking several times, she couldn’t bring the room into focus.

“Who’s she talking about?” The man asked a faceless person to Ash’s right.

“Dr. Emma Atman. She called the ambulance.” A woman answered.

“I imagine your friend is in the waiting room, Ashley.” The man responded. “I’m Dr. Stephens.” Before Ash could tell the man to stop calling her by her full name, she felt several sharp stabs of pain in her right jaw, and the room disappeared.

Chapter 8

“She’s waking up.” James’ voice cut through the deep water Ash felt like she was moving through.

“Dad?” Ash’s throat was even dryer than before, and she winced as she spoke.

“Hey sweetie, you’re okay.” Her father’s warm hand was in hers.

Ash struggled and after several attempts managed to open her eyes, bringing the room into focus. James, Jason and Michael were standing alongside her bed. Katy and Amy stood at the foot of the bed. Each of them had worried expressions on their faces.

“Christ, do I look that bad?” Ash managed a joke as much to put her family at ease as to reassure herself she was okay.

The room burst into laughter. “She’s still a smartass, so it can’t be that serious.” Jason teased.

It was Michael’s turn to give Ash grief. “And to answer your question, you kinda do look like shit, sister.”

Ash smiled, and quickly thought better of it as a sharp pain shot along her right jaw. Putting her hand to her face, Ash could feel the swelling. “This can’t be good.” She maintained a light tone even though she felt tears welling in her eyes.

“You’ve suffered a grade three concussion with abrasions to the skin directly over the mandible.” Emma’s melodic voice came from somewhere near the door of the room. “You’ll have bruising and swelling that should diminish within a week to ten days.”

Ash looked over James’ shoulder as the top of Emma’s blonde head came into focus. A moment later, as the doctor moved closer to the bed, the woman’s intense blue eyes broke through the haziness of Ash’s vision.

“Emma. I didn’t know you were there. Please come in.” Ash took her hand from James’ and reached toward her friend.

Emma hesitated, and then put her hand in Ash’s. “I don’t want to intrude. I just wanted to make certain you were okay.”

Ash nodded slowly, not wanting to start another chain reaction of pain in her head. “I think so. Thanks to you.”

“What do you mean?” Amy asked.

Ash looked at her sister-in-law. “Emma found me and called an ambulance.”

Jason turned to Emma and smiled. “We can’t thank you enough.”

Ash’s confusion from earlier came back to her, and she cleared her throat before speaking. “Hey, why were you at my apartment?”

Emma frowned. “We had a dinner date, and when you didn’t show, and I couldn’t get you on the phone, I drove over to your apartment.”

Ash furrowed her brow. “How did you know where I live?”

Emma hesitated as she looked from Ash to the five people standing around her. “I remembered your address from when I helped with your mother.”

James cocked his head to the side and looked at Ash. “Helped with your mother?”

Ash shifted in the bed. Her back was tightening up from lying flat. “Emma is the Deputy M.E. that worked on Mom.”

James nodded and turned to Emma. “Then this family owes you a couple thanks. I remember Ash telling us you had been very considerate with her when she talked to you about Elizabeth.”

James wiped at his eyes as they filled with tears. “And now you’ve saved my daught -” James took a deep breath and looked lovingly at Ash.

Katy walked around the bed, and put her arm on James’ shoulder. “It’s okay. She’s fine, Dad.” She pulled the man toward a chair in the corner of the room. “Let’s sit.”

Emma nodded to the family members and at Ash. “I’m glad you’re okay. We’ll have to reschedule that beer tast-”

Emma stopped, a peculiar look coming over her face followed by a flash of blue in her eyes as her nostrils flared slightly.

“Ash?” Lara came through the door, and paused as she looked around the room, her eyes coming to rest on Ash. “I talked to your father and he said someone had broken into your apartment, and attacked you.” The dark haired woman walked quickly past Emma, and stood at Ash’s bed side.

Her thinking was still a little clouded, and it took her a second to realize what was happening. “Lara, how did you -”

James spoke from the corner, where he and Katy now sat. “The ambulance driver gave me your personal effects, and your phone rang. I worried it was your work; so I answered.”

James smiled at Lara. “It was Lara on the other end, and once we got past the initial confusion of who was who, I told her what happened.”

Lara took Ash’s hand, and the warmth of her touch spread up Ash’s arm. “Are you okay?”

Ash was touched Lara had come to the hospital. They had gone out a couple times, and it seemed like they might take it to the next level, but this wasn’t anything Ash had expected. “I am.”

Ash looked around Lara, to a now silent and oddly tense Emma. “Thanks to Emma.”

Lara slowly turned and faced Emma. She released Ash’s hand as she took a step toward the doctor. “Emma. Lara Ramirez. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Ash pursed her lips. She was a little out of it, but she couldn’t remember talking to Lara about Emma. She assumed it was just a turn of phrase that Lara used to ease introductions. Ash interjected. “Emma found me, and called the ambulance.”

Lara stretched out her hand, and waited for several seconds while Emma, her eyes fixed on Lara, chewed on the inside of her cheek nervously. “Thank god for your timing and resourcefulness, doctor.” Lara leaned in slightly toward Emma and lowered her voice. “Was there blood? I would have passed out if there had been blood, but then again, you probably don’t mind it.”

Lara grinned. “You being a doctor and all.”

Emma took Lara’s hand in hers, and shook it quickly. “It’s what anyone would have done given the circumstances.”

Lara nodded, and squeezed Emma’s hand, not allowing her to remove it. “Your hand is like ice.” Lara glanced back at Ash and then settled her gaze on Emma again.

Emma slowly extracted her hand from Lara’s, and forced a smile. “Hazard of the trade.” She looked up to find six sets of eyes transfixed on her and Lara. “I wash my hands a lot and it makes them dry.” Her statement was met with blank stares.

“I lotion to stop the skin from drying out, and in return, the lotion evaporates and causes my hands to seem unusually cold.” Emma looked over Lara’s shoulder and gave Ash a pleading look.

Ash wasn’t sure what had just transpired between Emma and Lara. Both women had taken on nearly aggressive posturing with one another, and their tones had been edgy. The look on Emma’s face verged on hostile, and then as their eyes met, it was clear to Ash her friend wanted out of this exchange.

Before Ash could speak, Jason chimed in. “Given your line of work doc, it’s a plus in my book that you’re that hygienic.” The room erupted into nervous laughter as Lara turned back to Ash, and took her hand.

Ash tisked. “Classy, Jason. Everyone, this is Lara Ramirez. Lara and I have been dating the past few weeks.” The family smiled and nodded. Jason caught Ash’s eye and winked, causing Ash to shake her head disapprovingly, until the throbbing from her concussion halted her judgment.

“I’ll be going now. Ash, please give me a call, and we can reschedule when you’re feeling better.” Emma nodded and then quickly turned and exited the room.

Ash watched as her usually poised friend practically sprinted out of the room. She would talk with her later about it, but for now, all the back and forth had exhausted her. “Would y’all hate me if I needed to rest?”

Michael spoke first. “So glad you said that, because standing around staring at each other for the rest of the evening was not high on my list of priorities.  It gets really boring.”

Ash sighed. “Thanks, Mike, love you too.”

“Ash, I spoke with Cris earlier. The police are at your apartment now, but if they will let me, I’ll see about getting your toiletries and some pajamas.” Amy smiled and patted Ash’s hand. “Otherwise, I’ll swing by Target and pick a few things up.” She glanced at her watch. “I should be back in a couple hours.”

Ash didn’t have any biological sisters, but her brothers had married women that she thought of like her sisters. “Thanks, Amy.”

Lara took a step back as Ash’s family members came over and each gave her a gentle hug, and said their goodbyes. When the room was empty, Lara took Ash’s hand in hers again. “You’re very lucky to have a family that loves you so much.”

There was a hint of bitterness in her voice that made Ash wonder about her upbringing. Lara had been vague about her family, and all Ash really knew was where they were from and that they had wealth.

Lara brushed a stray strand of hair from Ash’s forehead, and Ash felt a lump form in her throat at the concern in the woman’s eyes. “I know. I would be lost without them.”

Lara nodded, and gently ran her finger down Ash’s non-swollen cheek. “I’m going too, but I want you to know that when your father told me what had happened, I realized -” Lara hesitated, and looked down. “I realized I wanted more for you and I.” Lara looked at Ash for several seconds. “Is that something you might want too?”

The lump in Ash’s throat suddenly felt like a weight that had rolled down onto her chest. She cared for Lara, and her being here today made it clear how much Lara cared for her. Ash opted for the truth, even if it did make her seem a bit like a coward.

“I’ve been thinking about that too, but I don’t want to make any decisions when I’m only a couple hours from nearly being pummeled to death in my own home.” Ash smiled, not wanting Lara to think she was upset the subject had been broached.

“Oh god, of course. I’m sorry.” Lara rubbed her forehead. “I wasn’t thinking, and I should have waited.”

Ash reached for Lara’s hand. “There’s no script for these things, so it’s okay. You were honest, and I wanted to be with you too.” Ash lifted Lara’s hand to her lips, and lightly kissed it.

The dark haired woman smiled, leaned in and kissed Ash softly on the lips. “I’ll come by tomorrow.”

Ash nodded. “Sadly, I think I’ll still be here.”

Lara smiled and left the room, pulling the door closed behind her. Ash lay looking up at the ceiling of the now silent hospital room. The silence was short lived. There was a knock on the door, and a split second later a tall, svelte redheaded man walked into Ash’s room dressed in black scrubs. “Ms. Haines. I’m Gabriel, your nurse. Doctor Stephens will be in shortly, but a quick overview. You have a concussion, and we will be keeping you for several days to observe, and run additional tests until we are comfortable everything in the wiring is okay.”

The man pointed at Ash’s head. “You were unconscious for a while, and several times by Dr. Atman’s reckoning. That’s not good, hence the multiple days of observations.” The man paused and made eye contact with Ash for the first time. “Any questions?”

Ash shook her head. She doubted she would be able to get a word in if he got going again. “Thank you.”

“Please don’t hesitate to hit the call button if you need anything, and depending on what the doctor says, I’ll get you some pain meds for that jaw.” Gabriel pulled the laptop cart over, and began quickly typing. “It won’t be the good stuff, though. We don’t want you passing out from the head injury and we just think you’ve taken a happy ride on Demerol.”

In several quick clicks, the nurse slid the mouse back and forth, and then pushed the cart back into the corner. “Dr. Stephens should be in shortly.” Without waiting for Ash’s response, Gabriel walked out of the room, leaving the door open.

Ash hit the button on her bed to recline it. Realizing the further back she laid, the more her head throbbed, she opted to remain in a pseudo seated position.

Damnit, I didn’t think to ask anyone for something to read. She knew her head hurt too badly to focus on the television across the room. A faint buzzing sound came from the night stand. Ash smiled, realizing her father had left her phone with her. She smiled when Cris’ name came up on the caller ID. “Yo, partner.” She wanted to keep this light.

“Yo yourself. Are you okay?” Cris’ tone was tense.

“I’m okay. My head hurts like hell, but I’m gonna live.” Ash smiled at her partner’s concern.

“CSI is at your place now. I’m heading over there shortly.” Cris took a deep breath. “Clark and Holmes are on the case. It’s being treated as a burglary that got interrupted.”

Ash bit her lower lip. A lot of what happened was still a blur. She knew in time that could change, but what she was certain of was it wasn’t a burglary. “Are you going to come to the hospital after?” She wanted to talk through this with him in person.

“I had planned on it.” Cris answered. “Can probably get there around nine.”

“Great, can you bring me a few magazines?” Ash asked with a smile on her face.

“Hold up. Would that involve me going into a book store? Because you know I’m functionally illiterate.” Cris teased.

Ash chuckled. “I don’t want you to strain yourself. Can you bring my iPad from the nightstand? The charger is in the drawer.”

“Done and done. See you in a few hours.” Cris ended the call.

Ash put the phone back on the nightstand, and within a few seconds it began buzzing again. She looked at the caller ID and shook her head. “Hey, Al.”

“Sweet Mary Magdalene and all the saints, what’s happened?” Alan’s voice was at least an octave higher than usual.

“Intruder in my apartment, and I had the misfortune of interrupting them.” She wasn’t going to tell Alan about her suspicions until she knew for certain, and maybe not even then depending on how crazy the truth was.

“Could you sound any more casual? I talked to Michael, and he told me it was pretty serious. If the hot doctor hadn’t come along - and yes, we will talk about why she was at your apartment later - you would be crunchy toast.” Alan took a deep breath.

“Come to the hospital, and see I’m fine.” Ash wondered if she had just made a mistake. She still hadn’t had a look in a mirror and had no idea how bad the bruising and swelling was. Her efforts to console her friend may have the exact opposite effect.

“I’ll be there in a half hour. Room number, please?”

Ash gave Alan the information, and hung up. Laying her head back against the stiff pillow, she was hoping to rest for a while before Alan arrived. Her phone began to buzz again.

“Jesus Christ.” Ash reached for the phone, and seeing the text message smiled in spite of her irritation.

Do you need something to read? Emma’s message read. I didn’t see anything while I was there.

Ash quickly responded. Don’t trouble yourself. It’s okay.

A few seconds later the phone buzzed again. I’m still in the hospital. Went to visit colleague. No trouble.

Ash responded. A few magazines then… please.

Okay. Emma replied.

Ash put the phone on her lap, closed her eyes, and laid her head back. Even though she was exhausted, the idea of seeing Emma again gave her a surge of energy. Her feelings for the beautiful woman were getting more difficult to define and ignore. She thought of Emma as a friend, and knew – given the appearance of ambiguity in Emma and Coleen’s relationship – Emma thought of her as only a friend.

There was something in how Emma spoke to her and looked at her, though, that made Ash wonder if there might be more. The way Emma said her name, the way she focused so intently on everything Ash said made Ash feel like there was more to see each time she looked at Emma.

“Ash?” Emma spoke quietly. Ash opened her eyes, and looked up. Emma stood next to her bed, a slight smile on her face and a stack of magazines in her arms.

“I hope I managed to find something you like.” Emma put the stack of periodicals on the nightstand next to the bed.

Ash watched her closely, feeling almost euphoric. It’s the head injury, Haines. You know from all of the first aid and CPR classes, heightened and exaggerated emotions can accompany a head injury. But she looks really good.

“Any of these look good to you?” Emma asked, handing Ash several magazines.

Ash forced her attentions away from the beautiful doctor and onto the magazines. Thumbing through the stack she couldn’t help but smile. All About Beer, Texas Monthly, Psychology Today, Discover, and Curve were among the vast array of titles Emma had brought her. “Did you clean the place out?”

Emma smiled. “Variety is the spice of life.”

Ash glanced around the room, not seeing her wallet or bag.  “I don’t know where my wallet is, but I’m good for it.”

Emma shook her head. “My treat. You’ve had a rough day.” She took a step back. “I’ll leave you to rest now.”

Ash’s hand acted independent of her brain, and reached out to grab Emma’s. “Please stay.”

Emma’s eyes widened and she looked down at Ash’s hand. “You have to be exhausted, and –”

Ash forced herself to release the doctor’s cool hand. “I am, but –” Ash wasn’t sure what she should say. Telling her the truth that she wanted Emma near, and that she felt better with her seemed too forward and intense for where their relationship was. She managed some semblance of the truth.

“My friend Alan, who you met at Blue Box, will be here soon, and I know he would love to see you again.” Emma looked at Ash, and the blue in her eyes seemed to shift like a kaleidoscope. “Emma, your eyes-”

Emma swallowed and took a step toward Ash, whose heart began to immediately race. Ash thought a shadow of desire passed across Emma’s face as her eyes stayed focused on Ash’s. Then it was gone.

“Did you know you have partial heterochromia iridis in your left eye? This appears as a cluster of reddish brown within the darker brown of the surrounding iris.” Emma walked around the bed toward the chair, and Ash blinked several times, feeling embarrassed that she had completely misread that exchange.

“There are a number of causes. All genetic in nature.” She smiled reassuringly at Ash as she sat in the chair and crossed her legs.

“Yea, my mom had it too.” Ash forced a casual expression on her face, even though every part of her wanted to shake Emma and demand to know what was going on with the two of them. “Emma?”

The doctor looked at Ash, the smile leaving her face as Ash leveled her gaze at her. “Ash.” The hitch in Emma’s voice betrayed her calm demeanor.

Ash bit her lower lip as she considered Emma. “Can I tell you something? Something I’m not even ready to share with Cris yet?” Ash heard the words coming out of her mouth, totally independent of her judgment and reason. Something in Emma’s manner made her feel safe to share what she knew would sound ridiculous.

Emma nodded. “Of course.”

“It wasn’t a burglar. I mean he broke in, but he was there for me, not my stuff.” Ash exhaled.

Emma leaned forward in the chair and nodded. “What was it about then?”

Ash smiled, realizing Emma didn’t think she was being paranoid. “I think it has to do with the Garrett case. The whole thing has been wonky from the beginning, and there was something-” Ash clamped her mouth shut, chastising herself for nearly telling Emma all of her suspicions.

“Something?” Emma got up and stood next to Ash.

Ash shook her head. “Nothing, I just think something isn’t right. I can’t prove it, but I know.” She looked up at Emma, hoping for some sign she understood. “I know to someone like you that seems ridiculous.”

Emma tilted her head to the side. “Someone like me?”

Ash looked down at her lap. “I don’t make assumptions in my line of work, detective.” She grinned as she recounted their conversation from three weeks ago.

Emma chuckled. “Well, in your line of work assumptions are synonymous with hunches, and those can get us headed in the right direction.”

Ash’s eyes widened as she looked up at Emma. “You listened.” Emma nodded, and Ash shifted in the bed so she was facing the doctor more fully. “But do you agree, Emma?”

The doctor took a deep breath. “Why don’t you tell me what we’re assuming and go from there?”

Ash nodded, relieved her friend was willing to listen. “The guy who attacked me was strong, I mean really strong. I work out and I pass my physicals, in some cases lifting more weight and running longer, faster than my male counterparts.”

Ash shook her head. “But this guy was on me so quick and he was so strong, I - there wasn’t anything I could do.” Ash was surprised and embarrassed when she started crying. Emma reached for the box of tissue on the nightstand and without a word, handed them to Ash. “I just can’t put my finger on it,” she said as she blew her nose.

Emma sat down on the edge of the bed next to Ash. “What do you think it all means?”

Ash looked up at Emma, her eyes red from crying. She wanted to say it, but it sounded crazy in her head; so she knew it would sound insane coming out of her mouth. Looking at Emma, her blue eyes full of concern, Ash decided to trust her friend. “He wasn’t human.”

Emma’s face remained expressionless. “Why do you think that?”

Ash swallowed hard, feeling encouraged the level-headed, fact-based, logical doctor hadn’t laughed at her or worse, called Dr. Stephens in for fear the blow to Ash’s head had done permanent damage. “He smelled like rancid meat and wet dirt, and when he spoke-”

Emma’s brow shot up. “He spoke to you?”

Ash nodded. “Yeah, he said - remember I was this close.” Just saying the words out loud sent a chill up Ash’s spine.

Emma got up, and walked around the bed. “I don’t think you’re crazy.” Emma picked up her purse. “I know this is terrible timing, but I have to go.” Emma glanced at her watch. “Can we talk more about this later?”

Ash wasn’t sure what had just happened. One minute Emma seemed to be going along with Ash, and then she was bolting out the door again. Ash was getting tired of this on and off act the doctor had going. “Are you serious?”

Emma was reaching into her purse when she stopped, surprised by the harshness in Ash’s voice. “I’m afraid I am. Please, I’m truly sorry, but-”

Ash felt tears pushing at the back of her eyes, and she hated how emotional she got with Emma. “You know Emma, there are some things even good manners can’t make right. Telling your friend who was just vulnerable with you after having - what did you call it - a rough day, that you have to suddenly be somewhere, is definitely shitty.”

Emma stood, her purse dangling from her bent arm, her mouth open in shock. “I’m sorry Ash that you-” The woman shut her mouth, the sound of her teeth clenching was audible. “What I mean is-” Emma took a deep breath and forced the air back out of her lungs. “Fuck.” She ran her long tapered fingers through her hair. “I can’t get this right.”

Once Ash got past hearing Emma swear for the first time, and the perverse thrill it gave her, she softened her voice. “Get what right?”

Emma looked at Ash, her brow furrowed. Ash didn’t know if she was unwilling or unable to speak. The tension broke as Alan walked into the room with a bouquet of wildflowers in his arms. “Emma, how lovely to see you again.”

Emma turned to Alan. “Alan, lovely to see you. I’m on my way out, but I’m glad Ash won’t be left alone.” Not waiting for a response, Emma turned to Ash. “I’ll call you later.” Pulling her car keys from her purse, she left the room.

Alan looked back and forth between Ash and the empty doorway. “What’d I miss?”

Chapter 9

Dr. Stephens had been pleased with the results of the MRI, motor skills and cognitive tests Ash had been subjected to, so Ash had been released from the hospital after two days. Cris had reported to her daily on her case and the Garrett case. His news was never good, since neither case was getting anywhere. Lieutenant Edwards had told her in no uncertain terms she was to take the remainder of the week off, and recover before returning to work.

Lara had come to the hospital both days, and brought Ash Las Palapas tacos one day, and Five Guys cheeseburgers the next. “I can’t imagine the food here is anything good,” she had commented, handing Ash the grease soaked burger bag. She had stayed and played dominos with Ash, and whichever family members happened along.

Ash had never thought of herself as indecisive. Lara was beautiful, kind, funny and intelligent, but their moments together made no lasting impression on Ash. Nothing of the woman imprinted on her mind or heart, and there was nothing there for Ash to take out later and admire. She enjoyed her company, but the more time she spent with Lara the more cautious she became of confusing a fondness and attraction to her as anything more.

On the other hand, Ash seemed to be constantly pulling Emma from the back of her mind, and admiring her. This was in spite of the fact Emma had not called or come to the hospital after their awkward exchange.

Ash assumed she had upset the doctor, or she felt guilty over her behavior and thought seeing Ash again would be uncomfortable. Regardless, Ash was sick of feeling quietly uncertain about her feelings for Emma.

“You know I’m making you my five-hour marinara?” Alan shouted from Ash’s kitchen. “Five hours.”

Ash sat reclined on her couch, happy she was home again, and that CSI hadn’t completely annihilated her apartment. “I get it. It’s a big deal.”

“Damn straight, friend.” Alan’s voice filled the apartment.

Ash leaned over and picked one of the twenty magazines Emma had brought her up from the coffee table. She had managed to read five of them while in the hospital, and given the fact each magazine interested her, she decided to cart them home with her.

Alan walked in and sat down in the recliner adjacent to Ash. “Two hours and counting.” He reached for the television remote. “Aren’t the Longhorns playing today?” He pressed the power button.

“Yeah, but not until four.” Ash glanced at her watch, it was half past two. “Pre-game hasn’t even started yet.”

Alan flipped through a few channels, and then muted the television. “Where did you get all these damn magazines?” He picked up All About Beer from the coffee table. “Did you lose a bet or something?”

Ash laughed. “No, Emma brought them to the hospital.”

The mention of the doctor got Alan’s attention, and he put the magazine down. “So, what’s going on with that? And are you cheating on poor Lara?”

Ash shook her head, and continued to thumb through Psychology Today. “First, Lara and I aren’t exclusive; so there couldn’t be any cheating. Second, Emma and I are friends, and nothing more.”

Alan arched his eyebrow. “This is serious.”

Ash looked at her friend. “Why is it whatever I say, you have to say the opposite?”

Alan shrugged and leaned back in the recliner. “Because I know you, and any time you have ended that second bullet point with - and nothing more, it’s always been a lot more.”

Ash tossed the magazine on the table. “Well, let me put your mind at ease. We are just friends. Full stop.”

“Well, Christ, now there’s a full stop. You are madly in love with her.” Alan casually said as he stretched his arms over his head.

Ash sat up. “So I can’t defend myself against your unfounded accusations without furthering your cause?”

Alan pushed the foot rest of the recliner down and leaned forward. “My dear, sweet Ash, I’ve known you since God was a boy, and the only time I have ever seen you defend something is when you are defensive.” He winked and leaned back in the chair.

“Nice Alan. Circular logic wins the day.” Ash felt the heat rise to her face. Her friend knew her too well, and she knew her friend was right.

Alan smiled at her. “I love you no matter what you do or who you’re with. Lara, Emma, none of my never mind. Just be happy.” Alan held up his index finger. “And one more thing, be happy and try not to hurt Lara in pursuit of said happiness.”

Ash reached for the television remote, and unmuted an episode of Golden Girls on TV Land. She knew Alan was right. It wasn’t fair to Lara not to finish the conversation the woman had the courage to begin in the hospital three days ago. Ash wasn’t ready to take the next step with Lara, but she was attracted to her and wanted to continue to see her. The sooner she could have that conversation the better.

A knock on Ash’s front door brought her out of her musings to find Blanche and Dorothy discussing Blanche’s too-numerous-to-count sexual escapades on the lanai as Golden Girls went to commercial.

“I’ll get it.” Alan popped up from the recliner and looked through the peephole of the door. He turned to Ash with a devilish grin on his face. “Speaking of.”

Ash turned on the couch to see Emma at the door. She was the last person Ash expected to see. The doctor was wearing dark denim jeans, a pair of Anne Klein brown suede moccasin flats, and a three quarter length sleeve, olive green Ralph Lauren shirt. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a loose pony tail, and Ash thought she was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

“I came with peace offerings.” Emma lifted a bouquet of purple heather, white carnations, yellow Gerbera daisies, and white lilies. “But more importantly.” She held up a six pack of 90 Dogfish IPA, a hopeful smile on her face.

Alan looked back and forth between Emma and his clearly speechless friend. “You had me at the Gerbera daisies. Come in.” Alan reached for the flowers, and closed the door behind Emma.

“I’ll get these in some water if my friend over there actually has a vase.” Walking back into the kitchen, Alan mouthed over Emma’s shoulder. “Oh-my-god.”

Emma sat the six pack of beer on the end table next to the sofa. “I remembered you ordered this at 1919; so I took a chance. Hope you’re not on any pain meds.” She was clearly nervous as she looked around the room, and Ash sitting open mouthed on the sofa wasn’t helping.

The initial surprise began to pass, and Ash stood up and turned the beer’s label toward her. “Good memory. This is perfect.” Ash smiled, not sure what to say considering the last time they had spoken ended badly. “Would you like to sit down? Alan is making spaghetti and you are welcome to stay.”

Emma walked toward Ash, and instead of sitting on the sofa took Ash’s hand in hers. Reaching up with her free hand, Emma gently cupped Ash’s still swollen jaw. “Does it hurt terribly?”

Ash swallowed. The scent of lavender mixed with a clean laundry scent washed over her. The concern in Emma’s eyes nearly brought tears to Ash’s. Clearing her throat, Ash took a step back.

“Not much.” She gestured for Emma to sit on the sofa. “And no worries, the doctor gave me some Motrin, but I’m not taking it.”

Emma sat next to Ash on the sofa and crossed her legs. “Because you’re stubborn, or because it really doesn’t hurt?” She smirked as she looked at Ash.

Ash chuckled. “Stubborn, of course.”

Emma smiled. “I want to -”

Alan came back into the living room with the bouquet of flowers now beautifully arranged in a clear glass vase. He placed the arrangement in the center of Ash’s dining room table. “You have wonderful taste in flowers, Emma. The last arrangement you sent Ash was beautiful.” He slid the vase a few inches to the right so it was centered on the table, and then walked to the recliner and sat down.

Emma sat back on the sofa, and rested her hands in her lap. “Thank you. I have always had an affinity for flowers. It makes me a little sad, given the climate in South Texas, that I had to opt for xeriscape in my own yard, but it’s the responsible thing to do given the relatively low rain fall in this area of the state.”

Emma shifted and put her arm along the back of the sofa so that her fingers nearly grazed the back of Ash’s neck. “As I’m sure you know, the xeriscape approach is promoted in regions that do not have easily accessible, plentiful, or reliable supplies of fresh water. In most cases, it’s usually promoted as a substitute for Kentucky bluegrass lawns; since the grass requires more water use than usual in arid regions.”

Alan nodded and Ash could see from the glassy eyed look on her friend’s face Emma’s conservation lesson was boring him. “Al, I’ve asked Emma to stay for dinner.”

Alan nodded. “Excellent. I wouldn’t want you eating alone.”

Ash frowned. “Sorry?”

Alan got up, and walked back toward the kitchen as he spoke over his shoulder. “I have to get over to the shop. Juan called in, his partner has the flu.”

Ash looked at Emma, who continued to sit casually on the sofa. “Excuse me. I’m going to put the beer in the fridge.” Ash got up, picked the six pack of beer up from the end table, and followed her friend into the kitchen.

Alan was stirring marinara sauce in a medium sized pot, and the entire kitchen smelled of garlic, basil and red wine. Ash walked up behind him, her voice lowered. “Do you even have a team member named Juan?”

Alan put the lid back on the pot, and turned to face Ash. “For today’s assignment - yes.” He grinned.

Ash opened the refrigerator and put the beer on the top shelf. Closing the door, she looked toward the living room. “Did it ever occur to you I might want you to stay?”

Alan chuckled. “If you would choose your gay Asian friend over a hot blonde doctor, you have bigger issues than I thought.”

Ash leaned against the counter. “It’s just I -”

Alan crossed his arms over his chest. “What? Has it been so long you’ve forgotten what to do?”

Ash punched Alan in the bicep. “No!”

Alan took Ash by the shoulders, and spun her around toward the kitchen door. “Now, my Padawan, go forth and make nice with the pretty lady.”

Ash shrugged Alan’s hands off her shoulders. “You know I’ll get you for this. When you least expect it.” She walked toward the living room.

Alan chuckled. “You’ll get something tonight if you play your cards right.”

Ash spun around. “Pervert, and she really doesn’t think of me like that.”

Alan walked toward Ash. “Right. She’s in the habit of bringing booze and flowers to women she doesn’t like.”

Ash looked toward the living room. “She’s polite, and we had a bit of a fight in the hospital, so she’s trying to make that right.”

Alan quietly clapped his hands together. “Fun. Makeup sex.”

Ash rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have to be somewhere?” She turned and walked back into the living room.

Emma was still sitting on the couch, looking through Psychology Today. “Everything okay?” She looked up at Ash.

Ash nodded and sat on the sofa next to her. “Yep. Al is going to head out shortly, and if you’re still game, you and I can muddle through the rest of the meal prep.”

Emma smiled. “I would like that very much.”

Ash’s emotions swung back and forth between excited to have the time alone with Emma, and nervous as hell. She wasn’t sure where they stood, and the uncertainty of that would inevitably lead to awkwardness. Ash would ask Emma about their relationship, but if she misjudged the situation, the question alone could cause issues. In the end, Ash decided there was no good way to broach the subject with Emma, so she would try to relax, and let things fall as they may.

“Ladies, I am out.” Alan crossed the living room, and leaned over to place a quick kiss on Ash’s uninjured cheek. “Call if you need anything, but I would hope since I’m leaving you in the hands of a medical professional, I won’t be hearing from you.”

“Granted, my patients are all dead, but I’m sure you’ll be fine anyway, Ash.” Emma casually commented.

Alan laughed. “Good point.” He reached over and handed Ash her phone. “Keep this close.” He looked at Emma and winked. “Doctor, nice to see you again.” He walked toward the front door, and without another word, was gone.

“He’s funny.” Emma looked toward the door Alan had just departed through. “You two met in college?”

Ash nodded. “We did.” She smiled thinking of how they met. “We went out on a date.”

Emma’s brows went up. “I wouldn’t have thought that.”

Ash shook her head, and got up from the sofa. “I know. After one date we both knew we weren’t to the other’s taste, so to speak, and we decided to be friends instead.” Ash walked toward the kitchen. “Would you like some wine? Or I have a bottle of Dewar’s Twelve my father usually drinks when he comes over.”

Emma got up, and followed Ash into the kitchen. “Let me help.”

“There really isn’t too much left to do. The sauce is on a timer and will be done in about an hour, and I can throw the pasta on in about thirty minutes.  I’ll just toss a quick salad and we’re ready to eat.” Ash stopped walking, turned, and not realizing Emma was following so closely, came face-to-face with the doctor. They stood less than a foot apart as startled brown eyes stared intently into surprised blue eyes.

Emma’s breath caught. “I - I can make the salad.” Her eyes looked from Ash’s to her full lips, and Ash was certain in that moment, Emma was attracted to her.

Taking a deep breath, Ash hoped her voice sounded calmer than she felt. “It’s bagged.” Their voices were low and intimate.

Emma cocked her head to the side. “The salad?”

Ash nodded, not able to take her eyes off of Emma. “Prewashed, bagged. Just needs dressing.” She wondered if this was really an appropriate topic of conversation when one was standing inches from a beautiful woman who clearly wanted more than salad talk.

Al is right. I’ve forgotten how to do this.

Emma smiled, and took a step back. The electricity of the moment dissipated as the space between them widened. “Easy enough.” She looked over Ash’s shoulder toward the kitchen. “Point the way.”

Ash shook her head. “Right, follow me.” Turning and walking into the kitchen, Ash felt like her face was on fire from the surge of blood moments ago. If it wouldn’t have raised suspicions, she would have stuck her head in the freezer.

“I like your apartment.” Emma stated casually as Ash handed her a bowl and the bag of salad mix.

Ash struggled not mentioning what had just transpired between her and the doctor. Clearly Emma was having no such issue as she prattled on about a myriad of topics as Ash filled a large pot with water to boil the spaghetti noodles in.

“It was the saddest thing. She choked to death on her engagement ring.” Finished with the salad, Emma leaned against the counter and watched as Ash stirred the marinara sauce. “It’s only endearing in the movies to put the ring in a flute of champagne. In real life, it’s deadly.” Emma shook her head.

Ash was trying desperately to push past her annoyance with Emma over the small talk, and the complete disregard for the fact they nearly kissed ten minutes ago. She didn’t want to be rude, and it was clear forcing the conversation wasn’t an option. If Emma was talking shop, Ash could do the same. “Speaking of deadly, Cris and I are getting nowhere on the Garrett case.” Ash glanced up at Emma who had fallen silent.

“Oh, I thought you had a person of interest.” Emma said flatly.

“Yea, she’s disappeared.” Ash hesitated. She knew she was being short, but she was irritated with her own inaction, and the doctor’s willful disregard for what was happening between them. “And with all due respect, the forensics didn’t help much.”

Emma’s eyebrow arched. “Forensics neither help nor hinder, they just are.”

Ash huffed. “That’s very Zen.”

Emma frowned. “Are you mad at me because the autopsy didn’t turn up more?”

Ash replaced the lid on the pot of marinara, put her hands on the edge of the counter, and looked down. She knew she was picking a fight out of frustration, and she hated herself for it.

“No, of course not.” She wanted to say she was sorry, but the irritation was clinging to her. She looked up at Emma. “Actually yes. I am mad about the autopsy. The fact you won’t discuss some very strange findings is kinda pissing me off.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “I explained to you why that is. I don’t want the only thing we have in common-”

Ash shook her head, irritated. “Right, it can’t be all about work.”

Emma managed a faint smile. “Right.”

Ash grabbed the dish towel lying next to the stove top and clutched it in her hand. “I want to talk about it.”

Emma sat down in the chair at the small kitchenette table. “Okay.”

Ash was surprised by Emma’s response, and now given the chance to discuss the Garrett case was drawing a complete blank. “Well - what about the bite marks?”

Emma leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs. “What about them?”

Ash pursed her lips. Obviously Emma was going to make this difficult. “Are we dealing with someone who thinks they’re a vampire?”

Emma laughed. “Or what, an actual vampire?”

Ash put the dish towel down and went to sit across the table from Emma. “No, but is this someone acting out a fantasy?” Ash bit her lower lip.

Emma rested her elbow on the table and put her chin in the palm of her hand. “I wouldn’t disagree with the role playing angle.”

Ash looked up at Emma. She was clearly indulging Ash with this conversation, and even though part of Ash thought she should be thankful Emma would do something for her she so clearly did not want to do, the irritation and frustration from earlier wouldn’t go away. “And then there’s Ela.”

Emma got up from the table. She opened the box of spaghetti and dumped it in the boiling water. “What about her?”

Ash sighed. “She’s strange.”

Emma turned to face Ash. “I haven’t met her. Why is she strange?”

Ash shook her head. “She moves so smoothly, and then when she’s sitting she’s eerily still. Like she’s not breathing.” Ash looked up at Emma, and could see from the look on her face, what she was saying wasn’t making any sense. “And she’s really-” Ash stopped before she could make an unkind comparison.

Emma sat back down at the table. “She’s really what?”

Ash shrugged. “Nothing.”

Emma sighed. “You’ve forced me into this back and forth, at least finish it.”

Ash chewed on the inside of her cheek. “She’s cold.” Ash glanced at Emma and then back at the table.

“You mean cold like me?” Emma said plainly.

“Yes.”

Emma rubbed the back of her neck. “Like me.” She muttered.

Ash shook her head and took Emma’s hand. “Not like you. I was just saying she reminded me of you when-” Ash closed her mouth before she could continue to insult her friend.

Emma smiled and squeezed Ash’s hand reassuringly. “I get it. You’re not comparing me to a possible accomplice to a murderer, and/or an actual killer.”

Ash smiled. “Exactly.”

Emma wiped at her forehead with an exaggerated gesture and smiled. “Thank heaven for that.”

Ash got up. She was feeling better about earlier, and it occurred to her that it hardly mattered how Emma and her were together. She was happy to be with her regardless. “Pasta should be about ready. Do you mind putting the dressing on the salad?”

Emma sighed, pretending to be exasperated. “Fine, Ash, if I have to do everything.”

Ash smirked as she poured the pasta through a stainless steel colander. “Remind me not to let you and Alan spend too much time together.”

Emma opened the refrigerator. “Beer?”

Ash nodded. “Please.”

“And where would I find that Dewar’s you mentioned earlier?” Emma scanned the cabinets.

Plating the pasta, Ash nodded toward a lower cabinet. “To your right.” Emma bent down to open the cabinet, affording Ash a view of her perfectly shaped backside.

Prepubescent boy, Haines. Keep it classy.

Chapter 10

“Yo, partner, you’re back.” Cris jumped up from behind his desk.

Ash put her bag down on her desk. “Can’t keep a good woman down.” Cris wasn’t a hugger, but he gave her a solid pat on her back and Ash knew he was glad to see her. “Anything new and exciting, partner?”

Cris sat back down behind his desk. “Still living the dream and making a difference.”

Ash grinned. “Glad one of us is.”

Cris shook his head. “I was talking about you.”

Ash looked up to see him smirking at her. “Sweet of you.”

“Haines, good to see you back.” Lieutenant Edwards stood in the doorway. “Martinez, anything on Garrett?”

Cris looked up from his file. “Nothing. Crickets on the tracing for the fibrinolytic enzyme, and the closest we’ve come to anyone of interest is Ela Jacobs, and she’s conveniently disappeared.”

Edwards shook his head. “Get me a formal write up by close of business today. The captain wants details since this one made the news.” He tapped the door frame several times with his fingers. “Welcome back Haines. Now get to work.” He winked before heading down the hall.

“I think I’m growing on him.” Ash suggested.

Cris laughed. “It must be your warm and fuzzy personality.”

Ash crumpled a Post-It up and threw it at Cris. “Stow it.”

Cris swatted the flying paper away. “So what are you going to say in the report?”

“Why am I writing the report?” Ash frowned.

Cris leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk. “You’re much better with words than I am.”

“You mean the English language, and stringing all those letters together.” Ash smirked.

“Yeah, that.” Cris winked.

Ash opened the laptop on her desk, and hit the power button. “It shouldn’t take me too long to type up that we don’t know shit about who killed Paul Garrett.”

Cris smiled. “I’m sure you’ll phrase that differently.”

Ash shrugged. “We’ll see. Speaking of the now AWOL Ela Jacobs, I was thinking I would do a little more digging and try to find out who she is.”

“Go for it. I’ve run her name through multiple databases and nothing.” Cris reached into his file cabinet, and pulled a thick manila folder out. “Here.” He tossed the file onto Ash’s desk. “Good luck. I have a meeting with Edwards. Annual reviews, and we’re talking about you, partner.”

Ash pulled the folder toward her. “Neat.”

Cris left, and Ash pulled Google up on her laptop. She typed in Ela Michelle Jacobs. Variations of the name appeared with links to Facebook, Twitter and several obituaries. She typed in Ela and several links came up with references to the name’s history. Ash clicked on Wikipedia to discover the name’s origins were Hebrew meaning oak. Ash then searched Ela and Hebrew together. She scrolled through four pages of Google search results until a link preview caught her attention. Ash clicked on Nazi Concentration Camp Death Lists. She wasn’t expecting to find anything, but the Holocaust had always piqued her interest in college. Specifically, the psychology of group think that ran rampant in Germany during the Nazi regime.

“A little light reading, detective?” Emma was standing in the doorway.

Ash jumped. “Christ, you scared me.”

Emma walked in and put her hands on Ash’s shoulders, squeezing gently. “Sorry.” She glanced at the laptop screen. “What are you looking at?”

Ash’s mind went blank as the doctor’s hands gently rubbed her shoulders. “I - I was doing a search on Ela Jacobs.”

Emma pulled her hands away and walked around to sit on the edge of Cris’ desk. “And you ended up on a concentration camp site?” Emma’s tone had shifted from soothing to nearly accusatory in a split second.

“Are you with the internet usage committee, doctor?” Ash teased.

Emma’s shoulders relaxed. “Yes, and there’s been complaints.”

Ash chuckled. “What brings you to this neck of the woods?” She sensed a subject change was in order.

“I was over for a meeting and wanted to see how you are feeling.” Emma smiled.

Ash was touched she had thought of her in the middle of what was certainly a busy day. “I’m tired way too early in the day, but otherwise I’m feeling okay.”

“It can be difficult getting back into the swing of things after some time off.” Emma hopped the rest of the way up onto Cris’ desk.

Pleased that Emma clearly intended to stay awhile, Ash rested her elbows on her desk. “What are you doing for lunch?”

The doctor looked at her watch. “Hmmm, meeting and then grabbing a bite with you.”

“Twelve-thirty work for you?” Before Emma could answer, Cris came in the office. He stopped for a second and looked at Ash and then at the woman sitting on his desk.

“Dr. Atman, nice to see you.” He walked around to his desk. “Ah, you’re sitting on a file I need.” He nodded toward the desk.

Emma planted her palms on the desk, smoothly slid off the corner, and handed Cris the folder. “Here you are.”

The quickness and smoothness of Emma’s movements immediately reminded Ash of Ela. She looked at Cris to see if he had noticed, but he was focused on his phone. “Gotta go. Thanks, doc.” Without looking up, he left the office.

“I should be going too. Double back and meet you at twelve-thirty?” Emma asked.

Ash nodded.  She was processing what she had just seen, certain she was reading more into it than was warranted. “Sure.” She looked up at Emma and grinned. “See you then.”

Emma left, and Ash brought the laptop back up and continued to look through the search results from earlier. She clicked on the concentration camp link, and waited while a PDF file downloaded.

It was a ledger with a series of names, numbers and dates listed on it. Parts of it were in German, and other parts were what Ash thought was Polish. She highlighted several passages, copied, and pasted them into Google Translate.

Krakow Labor Camp Worker Registration Log and Death Records for Years 1943 through 1945 popped up on the screen. Ash’s eyes skimmed the PDF document looking for the key words that caused this page to populate her search. It was on the fourth page of the document that she paused. She didn’t need to have the words translated.

Ela B. 105975. This alone could have been nothing more than a coincidence, but it was the four names appearing two pages after - presumably another reason why this document populated on Google - that caused the hair on Ash’s arms to standup.

Iwan Collins 107062, Jacob Collins 107063, Michelle Collins 107064, Rachel Collins 107065. Their names appeared on a separate sheet, that according to Google Translate, contained the names of skilled workers like engineers and chemists. Ash assumed this was why their full names where written.

She stared at the screen for several seconds, and then clicked the print button. Sitting still in her office, the quiet hum of the printer in the corner of the room was the only sound. The meaning of what she had just discovered eluded Ash, but she knew it meant something.

Her phone vibrated on her desk. She saw it was Lara. “Hi.”

“Hi. I hadn’t heard from you and wanted to make sure we are still on for tonight.”

“Absolutely. Seven at Urban Taco?” Lara and her had spoken several times while she was convalescing at home, but Ash needed time to think about their relationship so they hadn’t actually seen each other in over a week.

“I’ve missed you.” Lara admitted.

Ash smiled awkwardly into the phone. “Me too. See you later.” She pressed the end button, and got up to retrieve the printouts. The truth was she wasn’t looking forward to the dinner. She had decided to end things with Lara.

She hoped it wouldn’t be too much of a scene considering they had only been dating casually for a few weeks. The decision had ultimately been easy because every time Ash thought about Lara, her mind would inevitably wander to Emma. Ash wasn’t always the most astute observer when it came to matters of the heart, but even she couldn’t ignore the signs, and had finally decided not to string Lara along.

“Whatcha got there?” Cris walked back in the office.

“Good, you’re back. I have something.” Ash walked to her desk, grabbed a highlighter from the drawer, and quickly marked the five names. She laid the sheets of paper on Cris desk in front of him. “What do you see?”

Cris looked at the highlighted names for several seconds. “She’s using Rachel Collins’ family’s names as her own?” Cris frowned. “Why?”

Ash shrugged. “I don’t know, but maybe this is about some family conflict dating back generations.”

“But why would that lead to Garrett being murdered? Wouldn’t she kill Rachel?” Cris asked.

“And what about Rachel? Is she named after this woman on the ledger?” Ash’s train of thought got very questionable as she considered this. Part of her thought the woman on the camp ledger was probably some distant aunt or grandmother Rachel was named after, but the more diabolical, suspicious part of Ash’s mind, considered the possibility they were one and the same.

“Has to be.” Cris scoffed. ‘Otherwise, the Rachel livin’ and lovin’ with Sara Glass would be like ninety.”

Ash nodded. She knew Cris was right, and if Rachel should have been ninety then Ela would have to be at least that old too. Clearly the woman she had met was nowhere near that old. “I’m going to find out more about the Collins and see who Ela B was.”

Cris nodded. “Agreed. Maybe Garrett’s death was just a poke at Rachel, something to complicate her life before ending it.”

“Should we warn her?” Ash hadn’t considered the danger to Rachel until Cris mentioned it.

“I’ll give her a call, maybe she can shed some light on this.” Cris said.

Ash felt relieved. Even if nothing came of this, which she thought very unlikely, they were finally moving the case forward. Now, she just needed to go break up with a perfectly good woman so she could continue to pine for a complicated, unavailable one.

***

“Is this because of Emma?” Lara asked as she took a drink of her frozen margarita.

Ash shook her head. “No. Emma and I are friends. This is because I’m not ready to take the next step and you are.” She was being a bit of a coward not owning up to the fact it was, in part, about Emma. She and the doctor had lunch earlier that day. The conversation and her company was easy and left Ash feeling almost euphoric.

She didn’t think she owed Lara all the details though. Maybe if they had been dating longer, or exclusively, she would feel differently. The fact they hadn’t even slept together pushed Ash into the fewer details the better category.

“I don’t believe you.” Lara’s tone was sharp and accusatory.

Ash was taken aback. She had never heard Lara sound so angry. “Lara, it doesn’t have to be any more complicated than bad timing and missed connections.”

Lara put the icy beverage down, and leaned back in her chair. Her light eyes were still as she glared at Ash. “I saw how you looked at her in the hospital. And the way she looked at you, the two of you practically reeked of it. It was disgusting.” Lara’s words were laced with venom.

Ash tilted her head back in shock. “Whoa. Let’s back this up a minute. First, there was barely a you and I. Second, I don’t owe you anything more than this-isn’t-working-for-me.” Ash reached in her bag to get her wallet out. As far as she was concerned the conversation, along with the relationship, was over.

“She’s going to be livid.” Lara muttered, cracking her knuckles one at a time as she stared at her margarita.

Ash hesitated and looked up at Lara. Her face had taken on a scowl. It made her usually beautiful features seem slightly wicked. “Who’s going to be livid?” She wasn’t sure why she asked. The conversation was already tense, but the comment was cryptic and piqued Ash’s curiosity.

Lara glanced up at Ash swiftly, and then just as quickly, went back to staring at her drink. “Nothing. I hope you and Emma are very happy together.”

Lara’s insistence in making this about Emma was irritating Ash. “You don’t know anything about it, or her.” The sharpness in her own voice surprised Ash as she pushed back from the table.

Lara laughed. “I know her better than you do.” Her voice went up several octaves as she practically sang the words.

Ash had started to stand, having tossed two twenty dollar bills on the table, but then stopped as a shiver ran down her spine. “What?”

Lara shrugged. “Nothing. I’m sure the two of you will be very happy.” Lara picked the margarita up and took another drink. “Ecstatic no doubt - happily forever after.”

Ash shook her head. The woman was mental, and Ash’s decision to cut their acquaintanceship short was being validated by the second. “Cryptic, Lara. Clever. Piss off.” Ash pushed her chair back and quickly exited the restaurant.

Walking to her car, Ash felt like she could breathe again. What the fuck was that? She had dated women who didn’t handle breakups well in the past, but she had never seen a complete shift in personality before.

Lara, on the other hand, had become this uncomfortable combination of hysterical and conniving all at once. Ash got in her Jeep, and immediately locked the doors.

She hit the call button on her phone, and a few seconds later Alan’s voice filled the interior of her Jeep. “Good evening, friend.”

“Nothing good about it, Al.” Ash put the Jeep in reverse.

“What’s wrong?”

“So I decided to grow a pair and end it with Lara. To the point you made last week, I didn’t want to hurt her.”

“Does this mean the good doctor is now in the picture?” Alan practically squealed with delight.

“Maybe - well not really.” Ash chewed on the inside of her cheek. “That’s not the point. The point is Lara just went all Joan Crawford and Maleficent on me. So when you see your client again, you may mention to her that her friend is a little cuckoo for cocoa puffs.”

“Boo. I haven’t seen Ana in a while actually. Which is odd since her order arrived nearly a week ago.” Alan was obviously unfazed by Ash’s revelation.

“Well, pass it on.” Ash repeated. “I have to go, we’ll chat later.”

“Go get her, tiger.” Alan growled.

Ash couldn’t help but laugh. “Settle down, boy, and don’t get your hopes up for me and the doctor.”

“Too late. Hope is sky high. Bye.” The Jeep went silent.

Ash accelerated as she merged onto the expressway. Strangeness aside, she was glad she had the conversation with Lara. It didn’t change anything between her and Emma, but it did free her from any guilt over being with Lara while having feelings for Emma.

She turned the satellite radio on and laughed when Alanis Morissette’s You Oughta Know came over the speakers. “That’s subtle.” Ash changed the channel.

The first line of Josh Ritter’s Kathleen echoed through the cabin. All the other girls here are stars, you are the Northern Lights. Ash had heard the song a hundred times, but now she thought of Emma. Her knee jerk reaction was to feel silly and sappy, but pushing past that, Ash felt the comparison was accurate.

She could feel the gradual dismantling of her carefully constructed denials. For better or worse, she was unable to resist her attraction to Emma anymore.  More importantly, she was rapidly losing the will to try.

***

Ash stood on the sideline of a sprawling green soccer field. The sky was overcast and a slight breeze coming from the north made her question her choice to wear shorts for Aiden’s game. The STAR Soccer Complex was located in a former quarry near the northeast corner of San Antonio, and maintained thirteen full size soccer fields. At Ash’s instruction, Aiden and ten of his team mates were running wind sprints at midfield to warm-up before their game.

Ash cupped her hands around her mouth, and yelled to the team. “Okay, everyone grab a ball, and let’s do figure eights.” She watched as the eight, nine and ten year olds scampered around after the loose balls. The Coyotes were clad in black Umbro shorts that nearly came down to meet the long gray socks each child wore. Their jerseys we gray with black script lettering, and each child’s last name was embossed on the back above their number.

Aiden ran toward Ash, leaving his ball in the middle of the field. “Aunt Ash, I have to go to the restroom.”

Ash nodded. “Where’s your mom or dad?” Ash looked around the field for Amy and Michael. “Get one of them to go with you.” Ash watched as her nephew ran toward his parents, and then grabbed Michael by the hand, pulling him toward the brick building that housed the restrooms.

Ash turned her attention back to the team, and made her way to the center of the field. “Okay guys, huddle up.” She waited for the team to gather. Two of the boys were dawdling near one of the balls at midfield. “Keith, Cory, come over here.”

Ash loved coaching. She never wanted children of her own, but she enjoyed working with the kids, and watching their skills and personalities grow the longer that they played. It helped that the league was organized so a child could conceivably be on the same team for up to three seasons.

“The game starts in about ten minutes. Anyone else need to use the restroom?” She scanned their faces. “Rebecca, you have the look.”

A small brown haired girl in pigtails bit at her nails. “Yes, Coach Haines.” Ash turned toward the sidelines to find Rebecca’s mom, and her heart took several stutters when she saw Emma standing near the far end of the field. She had completely forgotten she had invited her, but knowing how particular the doctor was, Ash wasn’t surprised that she had come.

Ash forced her attentions back to the team. “Rebecca, your mom is right there. Go get her, and then hustle back.” Ash pointed to a plump, thirty-something woman sitting in a lawn chair on the sideline. Rebecca took off at a full run toward her mother.

“Let’s go over the lineup.” Ash looked at the clip board she had in her left hand, and made an effort to keep her mind and her eyes from wandering to Emma. She went over each child’s position, and showed them which ‘x’ they were on the game grid.

“But coach, I want to be goalie this week.” Nathan Reynolds was Ash’s least favorite member of the team. He was a whining child who always, regardless of the time of year, had a runny nose. His mother was overbearing and operating under the misconception that her son was the next David Beckham . The truth of the matter was Nathan could barely tie his cleats, much less play soccer.

“Nathan, we talked about this at practice. You’re not ready for goalie, so you’re going to stick with right wing defender.” She knew his mother would be over in short order when the game started to point out Ash’s mistake.

“But I-” The boy’s voice instantly went up an octave to a full-on whine.

Ash shook her head at the boy. “Zip it, Nathan.” The boy bit his lower lip and fell silent, obviously deterred by Ash’s stern tone.

Ash continued her field assignment announcements as Aiden ran up and stood on the outskirts of the huddle. She glanced over at the sideline, and saw Michael stop when he noticed Emma. After several seconds, Ash’s brother was smiling as he walked the woman over toward where Amy stood. Ash watched as pleasantries and handshakes were exchanged.

“Coach?” Cory brought Ash back to the task at hand.

Ash cleared her throat. “Sorry. Everyone remember to have a good time, and if at all possible, win.” She put her right hand into the center of the huddle. “Okay, everyone in.” Ten small hands clustered over Ash’s larger hand.

“Wait for me!” Rebecca came charging from the end of the field nearest the restrooms, and flung herself into the huddle, setting off a round of giggles.

“Quiet down, everyone, and hands in!” Ash refocused the exuberate team. “On three. One, two, three - aaahoooww!” The kids threw their heads back and howled like coyotes, then broke ranks and sprinted to their positions.

Ash jogged to the sideline, trying not to look at Emma standing next to her brother and sister-in-law. Luckily the coach from the other team walked toward her, giving her the perfect excuse to not interact, and in her nervousness, embarrass herself.

“Hey Ash, your kids look good.” Leo Maltin was a retired Air Force Major, and coached his grandson’s team the Tigers.

Ash smiled, and shook the man’s outstretched hand. “Thanks Leo. Yours too.”

The two parted ways, and stood in their respective spots along the sideline. Ash took a deep breath, and turned towards Emma who stood twenty feet to her right.

She felt a blush rise in her neck and face when she realized Emma was staring intently at her. Her friend’s piercing blue eyes were covered by a pair of black, wire frame, aviator style Ray-Ban sunglasses, but she was clearly looking right at Ash.

Ash smiled, nodded and waved to her friend. “You made it.”

Emma flashed a brilliant smile. “Wouldn’t miss it. They’re adorable.”

Ash exhaled and tried to focus her attention back on the kids, but Emma managed to look stunning in a pair of faded Levi’s blue jeans, blue Puma leather tennis shoes, and a light blue Puma zip-up jacket. Her hair was tied back in a loose bun at the base of her neck that Ash wanted desperately to kiss.

The whistle signaling the start of the game pulled Ash’s attention away from Emma, and she vowed to keep it on the game. “Keith, that’s your ball.” Ash yelled as the nine year old redhead boy stood watching the ball roll past him.

The kids were taking her instructions to hold their positions too literally, and not moving to meet the ball if it was outside their zone. “Run to the ball, Keith, don’t wait for it.” Ash instructed.

“Coach Haines.” On cue, Nathan’s mother Melissa walked up and stood next to Ash. The woman was in her mid-thirties, overly tan and about twenty pounds too thin. She looked sharp and edgy, and had the personality to match.

“Hi, Melissa.” Ash continued to watch the kids as they moved the ball back and forth down the length of the field.

“I thought Nathan was going to play goalie.” The pinched woman asserted.

Ash looked over at Nathan, who in spite of having the ball roll directly to him, kicked and completely missed it. “His eye foot, and eye hand coordination isn’t what it could be, and he needs to master the basics before being put in the goal.”

“My husband works with him every night, and I know if you gave him a chance, he would surprise you.” The woman crossed her arms and stood stiff shouldered next to Ash.

Ash had dealt with difficult parents in the past, and Melissa wasn’t being any more demanding than usual, but between the stress at work, her unrequited attraction standing twenty feet away, and the recent blow to the head by god only knew what, Ash’s patience wasn’t what it could be. She turned and squarely faced Melissa.

“Melissa, there are eleven kids on this team. Nathan is the least effective, and your husband practicing with him every night doesn’t automatically translate to a great player.” Ash paused long enough to witness the woman’s jaw drop. “If you don’t like the way I coach the team, Nathan’s participation is entirely voluntary.”

Melissa clamped her jaw shut, and narrowed her eyes. “My husband and I will definitely be discussing Nathan’s future with the Coyotes. We’ve already considered moving him to another team because clearly his talents are being wasted with you.”

Ash nodded enthusiastically. “That’s great Melissa, you and the husband discuss it. We don’t want little Nathan feeling wasted.”

Ash turned her attentions back to the game, leaving the other woman no other option but to stomp off in a huff. By half time, the Coyotes were up one to zero against the Tigers. The kids charged off the field, and grabbed the bottles of water and orange slices waiting for them on the sidelines.

“Good half, guys.” Ash was proud of the team. They had been passing to each other well, and taking the ball down the field aggressively. “Okay, pair off, grab a parent and go to the restroom.” Several designated parents walked over and began gathering the team for restroom breaks. Ash had learned her lesson the first season she coached when she lost half her team midway through the second half to emergency pee breaks.

“They’re really good.” Emma’s voice came from behind Ash as she watched the kids scatter.

Ash turned around and couldn’t help but smile at Emma. “They’re doing great. I told them my friend came to watch them and if they sucked they were going to get it.”

Emma laughed. “You did not.”

Ash grinned. “No, but I thought it really hard.” She looked around. “Coleen couldn’t make it?”

Emma shook her head. “She was busy. Besides, I was hoping we could have lunch after, and I thought three might be a crowd.”

Ash wished she could see Emma’s eyes, because she thought by her tone she might have been flirting with her. “So you’re not into that?” Ash smirked.

Emma shrugged. “I don’t share well.” Ash hoped her mouth wasn’t hanging open from shock.

“Aunt Ash, can I have more oranges?” Aiden ran up and stood between the two women.

Ash looked down. ‘What?”

“Can I have more-” Aiden looked up at Emma. “Are you a friend of Aunt Ash’s?”

Emma squatted down so she was eye level with the boy. “I’m Emma, and you must be Aiden. You’re a very good soccer player.”

The boy’s face lit up. “Thanks! Aunt Ash is really cool and spends a lot of time with me. We practice a lot.”

Emma looked up at Ash, who was watching the exchange with an amused expression on her face. “Your aunt is very cool.”

Ash’s stomach did a small, excited flip. She put her arm around the boy’s shoulders and squeezed affectionately. “Aiden, why don’t you go get those oranges, okay?”

“Nice to meet you, Emma.” Aiden shouted over his shoulder as he made his way to the bench and the ice chest full of oranges.

Emma stood up and faced Ash. “He has your eyes.”

Ash watched the brown haired boy pull four orange slices out of the cooler, barely managing not to drop them. “And my appetite, evidently.” She looked back at Emma, and felt a surge of affection for the woman. “Have you ever considered having any of your own?”

A dark cloud passed over Emma’s eyes, and she looked toward the ground. “No.”

Ash wasn’t sure what the backstory was, but given Emma’s reaction to the question, clearly it was a source of sadness for her, and nothing she wanted to talk about.

“Speaking of your appetite - lunch?” Emma managed a smile.

Ash wanted nothing more than to spend the afternoon with Emma, but it seemed fate was against them. “I have to go to work right after this. I barely have time to change.”

Emma looked Ash up and down. “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?” she asked coyly.

Ash looked down at her outfit. She was wearing a pair of black Adidas turf shoes, white ankle socks, black Umbro shorts, and a green Nike pro fit long sleeve shirt. “Besides being hell and gone from business casual, I try not to go to work looking like a bum.”

Emma frowned. “You have to know you’re gorgeous in anything?” For the second time in their short exchange, Ash was speechless. The doctor continued, unfazed by her friend’s lack of response. “Dinner then?”

Ash managed to muddle through a response. “Ah, sure. My shift is over at eight. Is that too late?” She barely heard what she said over the beating of her heart.

The doctor glanced over Ash’s shoulder. “Your brood is back.” Nodding toward the group of children sprinting across the field, Emma put her hand on Ash’s shoulder and squeezed gently. ”Good luck, and I’ll text you the restaurant information for eight.”

Watching Emma walk back over to where Amy and Michael were, Ash wasn’t sure what had just transpired between her and the usually reserved doctor, but she could definitely get used to it.

***

Cris called Ash while she was driving toward the station, and told her the manager of an hourly motel near Fort Sam Houston had tipped them off to a man who they had asked to leave after the maid found several knives and a set of altered dentures in his bathroom.

“Altered dentures?” Ash asked as she took the turnaround off of the expressway, and began driving in the direction of the motel.

“That’s what the manager said.” Cris was out of breath as he jogged toward his car. “Getting in my car now. I have six uniforms in route.” Ash heard the engine of her partner’s car start. “The guy is packing up as we speak.”

“Guns?” Ash asked.

“Not that the maid saw. She was pretty rattled, according to the manager.” Cris responded quickly.

“Okay, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” Ash hit the end button, and sped up.

Ash parked her Jeep on a side street, then unclipped her black leather holster strap, and tapped the Glock 17 with her thumb as she got out of the car. She came around the side of the blue trimmed, stucco Blackbird Motel.

The building had seen better days, evident by the faded trim, and weeds that had grown through cracks in the concrete path leading toward the center of the U-shaped, single story complex.

One of the three patrol cars was parked near the entrance to the motel’s small parking lot. Ash didn’t know the petite woman standing next to the cruiser. Ash took her badge out. “Detective Haines.”

The woman nodded, her brow furrowed. “Beckett.”

“What’s happening here?” Ash didn’t like how quiet it was. If Cris and five officers went in, they should be either hauling the perp out by now, or coming out empty handed.

“Four officers went in through the courtyard. Detective Martinez put another uniform around the back.” Beckett pointed to a dirt walking path that disappeared around the side of the building.

“When was this?” Ash asked as she scanned the building.

“Five minutes, maybe six. Room seven.” The officer looked at her oversized sports watch.

Ash shook her head. Cris hadn’t waited for her. No doubt he was worried the guy was already on his way out, and Cris would try to contain any possible scene in the motel as opposed to bringing it out onto a trafficked city street.

A single gunshot broke through the sound of passing cars behind Ash. A surge of adrenaline shot through her like the shock of icy cold water. Pulling her gun, she began to run toward the motel. “Call for backup!” She yelled over her shoulder.

Taking cover at the corner leading into the courtyard of the motel, Ash willed herself to breathe. Her gun raised she quickly looked around the corner, and then pulled back behind the wall. The courtyard was empty, and by Ash’s count, the door to room seven was ajar.

She slid around the corner, and crouching low, stayed close to the wall of the walkway as she made her way toward the open door.

Not sure if the gunshot came from the suspects or one of the officers, Ash pulled at the strap of her Kevlar vest under her blouse. Not all detectives wore theirs, but she had promised her mother when she was still in uniform that she would always wear hers. It wasn’t always the most flattering look, but the alternative seemed less appealing.

Crouching down near the door to room six, Ash couldn’t see any movement in the darkened room next door. “San Antonio Police Department. Exits are covered. Come out with your hands so I can see them!” She intentionally forced her voice into a lower octave because the mixture of nervous and excited energy coursing through her body was causing her throat to tighten.

Counting to ten in her head, Ash slid along the walkway toward the open door. Staying low and in a crouched position, she quickly looked in the room, and then pulled her head back. The heavy, polyester, orange checked curtains had been pulled shut, and blocked the ambient light from outside.

The smell of rotted meat and wet leaves, mixed with sweat and blood wafted out of the room, causing Ash’s stomach to sour.

She knew that smell, and the realization of what awaited her in the darkened room settled over her like a repressive, numbing heat. She felt perspiration begin to form on the back of her neck, and her heart rate, which had already been elevated, became dangerously rapid.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Ash wiped at her face with the back of her hand. “Cris?” She waited with hope her partner would be able to respond. She knew she should wait for the backup, but clearly people were down, and more than likely injured, in that room.

“Police officer!” Ash announced her entry as she positioned her upper body so it was half exposed to the room. Keeping her weapon close to avoid having it knocked from her hand, Ash lunged into the room, rolled across the thick shag carpet, and righted herself onto her knees as she quickly scanned the corners of the room.

The sleeping area was clear, and the bathroom door was open, revealing a broken window leading to the alley behind the motel. Ash stood up and for the first time could see the floor on the other side of the bed. Strewn between the bed and the door to the bathroom were bits of flesh and bone. Reaching behind her, Ash fumbled and found the light switch on the wall.

The single bulb over the bed illuminated the room. The walls and ceiling were covered in blood. Ash looked down, and saw her own pants were soaked with blood from when she was kneeling on the carpet. Gun still raised, she moved around the bed until she stepped on something soft and pliable under her foot.

Looking down, Ash’s eyes widened as she recognized what was left of a severed human hand. She stumbled back toward the open door, the room closing in on her. She stepped out into the courtyard and immediately bent over and vomited.

A gut wrenching sob escaped from Ash’s chest, as the image of the severed hand flashed before her eyes. On the ring finger of the mangled limb was a single gold braided band Cris had worn every day of his twenty-three year marriage.

Chapter 11

“Miller, I swear to fucking god if you don’t keep these people back I will personally get you busted down to reading parking meters.” Lieutenant Edwards slid under the yellow crime scene as he reprimanded a tall, lanky officer who looked to be in his mid-twenties.

The motel courtyard had been corded off and the street in front of the motel, along with the alley behind it, had been blocked. Ash could hear the sound of car horns as exasperated drivers sat in gridlock.

Ash stood near the back of one of three crime scene vans on site. The dried blood on her pants had caused them to stiffen and cling to her legs.

“Lieutenant.” She walked toward the man, who in the nearly ten years she had known him had never looked so tired. His face was red, and his eyes bloodshot. Ash knew better than to ask if he had been crying, knowing full well he wouldn’t respond honestly.

“Haines, what the hell are you still doing here? Higgins said they got your statement.”

“I wanted to wait for you.” Ash felt like she was moving through water.

“I’m here. Now go.” Edwards waved a uniformed officer toward the motel entrance. “Get over there and you tell them a press pass doesn’t mean access to an active crime scene.”

“Have you talked to Diane?” A persistent lump in the back of Ash’s throat continued to make it difficult for her to speak.

Edwards looked down. “I just came from seeing her. She asked about you, and I told her you would call her.”

Ash took a deep breath, and forced the tears back. “I’ll get cleaned up and go over.”

“What happened, Ash?” Edwards put his hand on her shoulder.

The simple gesture of the Lieutenant using her first name, and she couldn’t recall him ever touching her, caused the tears to flow. “Cris got a call from the motel manager that some odd paraphernalia was found in a residence room that may have something to do with the Garrett case. Cris took six uniforms, and knowing the suspect was likely to leave, attempted to secure him in the room. I arrived after they had gone in.”

Ash forced air into her lungs, and wiped at her eyes with her hand. “There was a gunshot. I moved in while backup was called. I got into the room and -” She looked toward room seven that was now teeming with CSI personnel.

“The manager never called. He had no idea what was happening. The gunshot was Riggs in the alley getting off a shot as the perp exited the bathroom window. Riggs is dead too.” Edwards removed his hand from Ash’s shoulder. “Go see Diane. I’ll call you later.”

“Have they taken -” The words caught in the back of her throat. “Have they taken Cris-”

Edwards shook his head. “Not yet. But they have practically every person from CSI and the medical examiner’s office here; so it won’t be long.” The man rubbed his face. “Christ.”

He looked at Ash. “Take care of yourself, and we’ll talk soon.”

“I want the case, Lieutenant.” Ash spoke quickly. “There’s something here. The smell in that room was like my apartment the night I was attacked.”

Edwards looked at her, confused. “What are you saying? This is connected to your break-in?”

Ash nodded. She didn’t want to divulge everything she thought about her attack and the Garrett case. She didn’t want Edwards thinking she was crazy. “The break-in and the Garrett case.”

A woman dressed in a gray pant suit who Ash remembered as being part of the public relations team walked up to Edwards. “Lieutenant, the captain is here, and asking for you.”

“Got it. One minute.” Edwards nodded. “Haines, I want this in a report tomorrow, and then I want you to take the week.”

“Lieutenant I-” Ash didn’t want to be outside the loop on this.

“Not a request, Haines. Report and then I don’t want to see you until next Monday.” Edwards turned and followed the PR representative toward the front of the motel.

Left alone again, Ash leaned against the CSI van. She scanned the scene. Officers and investigators moved quickly back and forth. The noise was a low hum in Ash’s ears.

“Detective.” A thick male voice came from Ash’s right. She turned to see Richard Dorsey with his eyes fixed on her.

“Dorsey.” Ash nodded, not sure why the man was talking to her. “Do you need something from me?”

He grinned, flicking his tongue across his misaligned teeth. “Terrible thing here.”

“Yeah.” Ash wasn’t in the mood to make nice with this brute.

Dorsey took a step toward Ash, and leaned down. “You’re lucky.”

Ash tried not to be obvious as she tilted her head away from the man’s terrible breath. Though his words seemed superficially comforting, Ash detected an undertone of malice. She didn’t want to be near this man any longer than necessary.

“Sure. Have a good one, Dorsey.” She walked away from the man. Feeling drained, she wasn’t sure if her legs would continue to support her. She was looking around for a bench or chair when she saw Emma move through the crowd near the entrance to the motel, and deliberately walk toward Ash. Without hesitating, she wrapped her arms around Ash, and pulled her to her.

“I’m so sorry.” Emma gently rubbed the back of Ash’s neck as she whispered her condolences into her ear.

Unable to speak, Ash felt the tears began to flow unchecked. She clung to Emma as her legs buckled. The doctor wrapped her arm around Ash’s waist to support her, walking them both toward the rear exit of the motel. “Come on. My car is parked two blocks over.”

Through her grief, Ash was aware of how effortlessly Emma supported her. There were points as she guided her through the less congested rear exit of the motel, that Ash was certain Emma lifted her off the ground as her knees buckled. Before Ash knew it, Emma was opening the passenger door of her Nissan Leaf.

“Shit, Emma, I can’t get in your car like this.” Ash looked down at her blood stained suit.

Emma took her by the shoulders and turned her so her back was to the seat. “Don’t be stupid. Get in.” Not waiting for Ash’s response, Emma eased her down into the seat.

Ash felt the last of her restraint melt away, and along with it the last of her energy. Tears streamed down her face, and she was only vaguely aware of Emma getting in the car, and handing her several tissues. Time lurched and halted around Ash, as the lights of the city streaked by outside the car window. Cris was dead, along with five other officers, and there was a maniac loose in the city.

The car stopped, and Emma got out of the driver’s side. Ash watched as she walked around the front of the car, and opened the passenger door. Ash managed to pull herself out of the car, and looked up to see a large, two story gray brick house in front of her. “Is this your house?”

Emma shut the car door behind Ash. “It is. If you prefer your place, I can drive you over.” Emma hesitated. “I’m happy to stay with you, regardless.”

Ash managed a weak smile, and reached for the doctor’s hand. She was too tired to maintain the pretense of indifference toward Emma. “Anywhere with you and a shower is fine.”

Emma ran her hand lightly over Ash’s hair, before leading her up the windy front walk to a large oak door with an ornate blue and green stain glass pattern at the top. She punched in a code near the door’s handle, there was a faint clicking sound, and the door opened.

“Please come in.” She gestured toward a large tiled entryway, with vaulted ceilings. Ash walked through the door, and took her heels off, not sure what might be on them.

“Your home is beautiful.” Her friend’s scent permeated the house, and Ash tried not to be too obvious as she took deep breaths in through her nose. She looked around as Emma shut the door behind her. To her left was a wide staircase with carved wooden banisters on either side. Past the stairs, Ash could see an expansive hallway that led to the kitchen.

The house was tastefully decorated in British Colonial style. Divided into different rooms, the house’s dining room, and living room ran along the right side. The formal living room, and what looked like an office with many bookcases, ran along the opposite side.

“Thank you. There’s a full bath downstairs so you can shower.” Emma put her hand on the small of Ash’s back as she guided her down the hall.

The bathroom was decorated in taupe and light mauves. The tile was a stark white that ran from the floor to the ceiling with a walk-in shower. Ash stood in the middle of the immaculate room, and felt her stomach tighten. The trauma of earlier and the vomiting had taken its toll, and she sat down heavily on a small wooden stool next to the shower stall. “I’m sorry. I’m exhausted.” Ash rubbed her face.

Emma knelt in front of her. Her voice was low and reassuring. “It’s perfectly fine.” She slid her hands under the shoulders of Ash’s jacket, carefully sliding the garment off, and placing it on the floor next to her.

Ash cringed when she saw the large blood stain on the back of the jacket from where she had rolled into the motel room. Emma looked at Ash, and gently placed her hand on the woman’s cheek. “Will you let me help?”

There was no lust or seductive undertone in Emma’s question, just an expression of concern and a desire to comfort. In that moment, Ash felt completely safe with the beautiful woman in front of her. “Yes.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Emma began unbuttoning Ash’s blouse, to reveal the thin Kevlar vest underneath. She took Ash’s hands, one at a time, and gently holding her arms up, unbuttoned the sleeves.

Bringing each of Ash’s hands to her lips, Emma lightly brushed her cool, full lips across Ash’s palms. Ash closed her eyes and felt the muscles in her back and shoulders relax for the first time in hours.

Pulling the blouse off Ash’s shoulders, Emma carefully slipped the sleeves down, and placed the blouse next to the jacket. Ash was holding her breath, and the silence was broken by Emma pulling the Velcro straps of the vest apart. She put the vest on the floor.

Ash sat in a black tank top and her blood stained slacks. Without a word, Emma stood, took Ash’s hands in her cold ones, and pulled the exhausted woman to her feet. She reached down and paused as she placed her hands on the top button of Ash’s pants.

The two women looked at each other. Emma’s blue eyes filled with tenderness as she unbuttoned and unzipped the soiled trousers. Bending down, she pulled the pants to the floor, and Ash stepped out of them.

Emma slid the pants to the side and still kneeling in front of Ash, wrapped her arms around the woman’s waist, and laid the side of her face against Ash’s stomach.

A quiet moan escaped Ash’s slightly parted lips. She ran her fingers through Emma’s hair, the texture reminding her of a fine silk scarf. Entwining her fingers through the blonde hair, Ash pulled the woman closer, finding great comfort in being near her.

Standing up, Emma lifted the hem of Ash’s tank top up and over the taller woman’s head. Now standing in a pair of dark blue panties and matching bra, Ash wasn’t sure what to do next. Emma sensing her hesitation, reached around her and turned the shower on. Her shoulder brushed against Ash’s bare one, and the detective shivered.

Emma’s voice was low and intimate as she leaned into Ash. “Are you cold?” Emma placed her hand on Ash’s bare waist.

The coolness of Emma’s hand against the heat of Ash’s skin caused another shiver to run down Ash’s spine and settle in her lower abdomen. “I’m okay.” She wanted Emma to hold her. In her entire life she couldn’t remember ever having that desire be so visceral.

As if reading Ash’s mind, Emma stepped closer, and wrapped her arms around Ash. The full length of her body leaned into Ash’s, and the breath Ash had felt like she was holding escaped.

Ash wanted to whisper to Emma that yes, she could kiss her. To tell her she needed the nearness of her. She reached for Emma’s hand. The smooth coolness of her fingers as they entwined with Ash’s caused her to sigh.

Ash couldn’t look away from the beautiful woman in front of her, the flawless, pale skin complimenting the angular planes of her jaw and cheek bones. The blue of Emma’s eyes seemed to swirl and brighten. Ash’s heart was beating furiously in her chest, and her stomach tensed as a rush of longing passed through her.

She reached down with trembling hands and unbuttoned the top button of Emma’s jeans. Stepping closer to Emma, Ash unzipped her pants and gently pushed them down and over the woman’s hips. Emma stepped out of the jeans, and stood in front of Ash in a fitted black t-shirt and black panties.

Ash tentatively slid her hands under the hem of Emma’s shirt. Her skin was smooth and cool to the touch. Ash closed her eyes as she lightly stroked the flat planes of Emma’s stomach. A soft sigh escaped the blonde’s lips when Ash ran her hands over the flare of Emma’s hip bones and around her hips.

The two women stood with stomachs and thighs touching. Ash leaned in and gently kissed Emma’s neck, parting her lips slightly so the sweet taste of the woman filled her. Ash took Emma’s face in her hands, needing to touch as much of her as possible.

Emma covered Ash’s hands with hers. Ash felt a rush of heat skitter through her chest, and she was surprised as tears filled her eyes.

With a feather light touch, Emma wiped at an errant tear with the tips of her tapered fingers. She looked at Ash; longing mixed with trepidation swirled in her piercing blue eyes. A slight nod of Ash’s head, and she was filled with Emma’s scent and coolness as her lips pressed to Ash’s. A hot arc of electricity shot through her.

Emma moved the two of them back several feet, until Ash’s back was against the shower door, warm from the hot water and steam. A quiet moan escaped Emma’s lips. Ash deepened the kiss, her hand brushing the side of Emma’s face and into her silky hair.

Emma leaned back long enough to pull her shirt up and over her head, dropping it on the floor. She immediately returned to Ash’s lips. Her hands slowly moved around to Ash’s back, unhooking her bra. In return, Ash slid her hands from the small of Emma’s back, up to her shoulder blades, and then unhooked her black bra.

Both women shrugged simultaneously so their bras dropped to the floor at their feet. Ash pulled Emma against her. A gasp filled the room as the feeling of Emma’s cool, firm breasts pressed against Ash’s.  Both women stood, arms wrapped around each other, as the room filled with steam.

Emma slid her hands down the small of Ash back, and under the blue silk of her panties. Bringing her hands around to Ash’s hips, Emma gently tugged the undergarment, and then slipped the panties down to Ash’s feet.

Standing up, Emma took a step back as Ash discarded the panties. She stood completely naked, and the look of admiration, tenderness and love she saw in Emma’s eyes triggered a tight pulsing heat in the pit of her stomach.

“You’re beautiful.” Emma’s voice was deeper than usual. The woman slowly pulled her own panties down over her hips, and let them drop to the floor.

Ash struggled to comprehend the perfection in front of her. Emma had flawless, symmetrical planes. Her breasts, round and firm, sat above her rib cage that led to a waist that narrowed at just the right point, and flared to perfectly proportional hips, leading to long, muscular legs.

Emma swallowed. Her voice was so quiet it was nearly drowned out by the sound of the shower. “Ash, touch me. Please.”

Ash took the two steps to bring her to within an inch of Emma. Her hand languidly moved over the slope of Emma’s collar bone, down the shallow valley between her breasts, pausing briefly to rest on the firm, flat plane of her stomach, sliding around her waist, and coming to rest on the small of her back as Ash pressed their bodies together. Ash found Emma’s lips and lightly kissed them.

Without breaking the kiss, Emma and Ash backed toward the shower. Reaching around Ash, Emma opened the glass door, and the two women stepped into the steam filled stall.

Stepping under the spray of hot water, Ash leaned back and wet her hair. When she opened her eyes, Emma stood directly in front of her with pink tinted shampoo in her palm.

After the tragedies of the day, the intimacy of this gesture, the fact Emma simply understood what Ash needed brought her name to Ash’s lips as her fingers began massaging the shampoo into Ash’s hair. Ash turned slowly, her back to Emma, as the woman worked the rose scented liquid through the thick tendrils of Ash’s dark hair.

Emma ran her soapy hands down Ash’s back and then reached around her to rinse her hands under the shower spray. Ash turned, and faced Emma. She tilted her head back, and began rinsing the shampoo from her hair. Opening her eyes, she saw Emma lathering the bar of honey scented soap in a white washcloth. Stepping out from under the spray, Ash ran her hands through her hair, removing the excess water.

The softness of the warm cloth being gently rubbed back and forth along Ash’s bare collar bones elicited a quiet sigh from her lips. She felt her feelings for Emma stretch and expand, filling her chest with a nearly unbearable boundlessness. Ash knew it would never shrink back to its former dimensions.

Ash took the woman’s face in her hands, amazed her skin remained so cool to the touch in spite of the heat of the shower. Bringing her lips to Emma’s, she pushed gently with the tip of the tongue and smiled as the blonde’s lips parted, allowing her entry.

Moving the washcloth down the length of Ash’s back, Emma paused when she reached the curve of Ash’s lower backside, and applied additional pressure as she pulled the woman closer to her. Stepping back from Ash, Emma knelt in front of her on one knee, and with slow circles washed Ash’s left, then right leg. Emma stood, and rung the wash cloth out, laying it on the narrow shelf to her left. Placing her hands on Ash’s hips, she gently moved the woman back, and under the shower spray.

Leaning in, Emma ran her tongue along the front of Ash’s neck. “I’m going to get a robe for you. Are you okay for a minute?” She spoke against Ash’s neck.

Ash felt the room spinning as she clung to Emma. We were together. I forget the rest. The Whitman quote popped into her head, and it brought a smile to her lips.

Looking up, Emma smiled at Ash. “What?”

Ash shook her head. “I’m very good. Go get the robe.”

Emma kissed her quickly on the lips, opened the shower door and reached for the taupe colored towel to the right of the shower. Stepping out of the shower, she quietly shut the frosted glass door behind her, and wrapped the towel around herself.

Ash watched as the blurry figure left the room. She turned into the shower spray and quickly finished rinsing the soap off her body. She heard the bathroom door open as she shut the water off. Pushing on the door, Emma stood in front of her in a white bath robe, her hair pulled back in a loose pony tail, and a towel in her hand. “Here you are.”

Ash took the towel, and began drying herself off. Emma laid a navy blue bath robe across the wooden stool next to the shower. Looking at her, Ash was waiting for her independent streak to kick-in, or her self-reliance to raise its hand and shout at her to stop being so dependent.

Nothing about this time with Emma felt wrong. It was action, a series of movements to demonstrate a devotion to the comforting and consoling of another human being. Ash couldn’t find shame or guilt in it, only something incredibly strong and yet amazingly gentle.

Emma stood near the door as Ash finished drying. “There’s a hair dryer, and brushes under the sink if you’d like. Otherwise, I was going to make you some tea.” Emma frowned. “Sorry, no coffee.”

Ash slipped into the soft thick cotton of the bathrobe. “Not a fan. I remember.”

“I can get you some.” Emma walked to Ash and took her hand. “Whatever you need.”

Ash smiled, and taking the tie of Emma’s robe in her hand, she pulled the woman toward her. “You and tea will do just fine.”

A light kiss on Ash’s cheek and Emma left the bathroom. Alone, Ash retrieved the hair dryer and brushes from under the sink. Looking at herself in the mirror while brushing her hair out, Ash still felt the weight of her day thickening the air around her.

The death of a friend and the escape of his killer both saddened and angered Ash. Tomorrow she would go see Diane, offer her condolences, and commit to bringing Cris’ killer to justice.

Her hair adequately dry, Ash put the brush and dryer back, and stepped out of the bathroom. She looked to the right, where she thought the hall would lead her to the kitchen. “Emma?”

“Take a right, and down the hall.” The woman’s muffled voice sounded from the back of the house. Ash wound her way down a hall, past a narrow back stairway, and then into a large kitchen. The dark walnut finish on the hardwood floor complemented the cherry finished wood cabinets. Gray granite counter tops ran throughout the kitchen, including the large center island and recessed nook that had several bottles of Glenlivet, along with a bottle of Tanqueray Ten, lined up neatly.

Emma stood next to the built in stove top at the center island. Her hand was resting on top of a stainless steel kettle. “Is Earl Grey okay? It’s as close to coffee as I can get.” She smiled just as the kettle began to whistle.

“Perfect, and with a bit of sugar if you have any.” Ash sat on a tall bar stool across from Emma.

“I can swing that.” She lifted the kettle up, and turned the gas burner off. “I’m afraid I don’t have much in the way of food. I haven’t been eating in much lately, and the basics are nonexistent.” She poured the steaming water into a large mug.

“The tea is fine.” The truth was she was starving. She skipped lunch because of the soccer game, and the events later didn’t do much to encourage an appetite.

Handing her the mug of tea, and a stainless steel sugar container, Emma looked at Ash closely. As if on cue, her stomach let out a loud growl. Emma laughed as Ash blushed and grabbed at her misbehaving midsection. “Why don’t we order some pizza?” Emma suggested.

Ash nodded. “That might be a good idea.”

Emma walked around the island, to her purse that was sitting on the stool next to Ash. Pulling her phone out, she punched in a number. “I wouldn’t want that racket keeping me up all night.”

Before Ash could respond to the implication she and Emma would be sleeping in the same bed, she heard Katy Perry’s Roar begin playing behind her.

I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire. Ash looked up at Emma quickly, who wore a perplexed expression on her face. “Ah, Alan assigns his own ringtones.” Ash said, amused.

She got up and found her bag on top of a round kitchenette table positioned in a small alcove of bay windows at the rear of the kitchen. She couldn’t remember Emma stopping at her Jeep to get her personal belongings, but clearly she had missed parts of the day.

“Hello?” Ash turned to face Emma, who was on her own phone placing an order for a large pepperoni pizza. Ash knew her friend preferred vegetarian pizza, but clearly was making the choice to please Ash.

“Christ, where have you been? Are you okay? I’ve been trying to reach you for nearly an hour.” Alan’s tone was laced with concern and hints of panic. “It’s all over the news. Is Cris-”

Ash shut her eyes. The time with Emma hadn’t made her forget the horrific events of the past few hours, but it had dulled the sharpness of the pain. “I’m okay. Cris is dead, along with five other officers.”

Alan exhaled sharply. “Where are you? I’m coming over.”

Ash glanced at Emma, who was done ordering the pizza, and was pouring herself a cup of tea. “I’m not at home.”

“Jesus, don’t they have enough cops down there? I mean you just-” Alan was clearly aggravated.

“I’m-” Ash wasn’t sure how much she wanted to tell Alan. She suddenly felt very protective of this space Emma and she were in. “I’m with Emma.”

There was a long pause. “No shit.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Ash knew she would get grief about the lack of detail when she saw Alan next, and was willing to deal with that. For tonight though, she wanted even the idea of Emma all to herself.

“I wait with bated breath.” Alan’s tone was suspicious.

“Thanks, Al.” Not waiting for further commentary, Ash hit the end button.

She immediately pressed the speed dial button for her father. Getting his voicemail, she let him know she was okay, and would call him tomorrow. She texted Michael and Jason the same.

“Everything okay?” Emma asked as she picked up Ash’s tea and carried her own to the table.

Ash smiled, and slid her phone back into her bag. “Just some reassurances that I’m still alive.” She took the still hot tea from Emma.

Sitting down, Emma slid the chair next to her out, and gestured for Ash to sit with her. “The pizza should be about twenty minutes.”

Ash sat. The interjection of her normal life into this almost surreal night, made her suddenly feel nervous. “Sounds good.” She could hear the tenuousness in her tone as she sipped her tea.

Emma reached out and tucked a loose strand of Ash’s hair behind her ear. She smiled understandingly. “If you want to call Alan back, or one of your brothers, I would understand if you wanted someone you’re closer to-”

The reassurance in Emma’s touch, knowing she wanted to be touching her, stamped out any uncertainty for Ash. She took Emma’s hand in hers. She stood so close to the edge, wanting to confide her heart to Emma, but feeling it was too soon, and that the trauma of the day would somehow taint the serenity of the night. “No. I want to be here with you.”

“Good.” Emma stood up. “Would you like to watch television or a movie while we wait for the pizza?”

Ash nodded. “Something funny.”

Emma took Ash’s hand in hers, and walked them back toward the front of the house. They went into the small room off the entry way with the floor to ceiling book cases.

On the far side of the room was a brown leather sofa and across from that, a large flat screen television. The room was obviously one Emma spent a lot of time in, as numerous books were stacked and opened across the mahogany desk. Papers were strewn on a sideboard table, and several empty scotch glasses sat on the desk.

“Sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.” Emma moved several magazines off the sofa and placed them in a stack on the desk.

Ash loved the room. It was her favorite so far because it felt lived in, and entirely Emma’s. “It’s cozy. And that’s not a euphemism for messy.” Ash pulled Emma down on the sofa with her.

Carefully placing her and Ash’s tea on the mahogany end table, Emma then reached for the remote. “I’d never watched Golden Girls before, but after seeing segments of it at your apartment I put it on a series pass. Would you like to watch it?”

Ash took note of the programs as Emma scrolled through the list of recorded shows. NCIS, Law and Order, True Blood, Antiques Roadshow, NewsHour, The Sound of Music, and The Rachel Maddow Show were among a few. “The Sound of Music? As in the hills are alive?”

Emma shook her head. “You make fun, but it’s a classic. Besides, the entire story - though altered for dramatic effect - is based on a real family who opposed the Nazis and ended up escaping to Italy before coming to the United States.”

Ash looked blankly at Emma. “But what was the point if Julie Andrews couldn’t spin in circles on a mountain top?” Emma frowned and playfully pinched Ash’s arm, eliciting a laugh from the woman. “How do you find the time to keep up with all of that?” Ash asked as she pulled her legs up under her, and settled in next to Emma.

Emma shrugged. “I don’t sleep.”

“I have just the opposite problem. I sit down, turn on Walking Dead and before the first commercial break I’m asleep.” Ash took Emma’s hand in hers. She couldn’t remember the last time just holding a woman’s hand felt so intimate.

“This season has been one of their better since season one.” Emma stopped scrolling on Golden Girls.

Ash reached out and covered Emma’s mouth with her hand. “Zip it. I’m still on last season.” As she pulled her hand away slowly, Emma’s soft lips kissed Ash’s palm. Turning Emma’s head toward her, Ash leaned in and kissed her. Just as the kiss deepened, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it.” Emma kissed the back of Ash’s hand, and got up from the sofa. She disappeared around the corner, and a minute later she returned with a large pizza box. “I’ll go get plates. Do you want some wine? I have some scotch or gin, but no beer.”

“A glass of red, please.” Ash smiled.

Emma nodded and disappeared to the kitchen. Ash got up and walked to the bookcases. Her eyes wandered over several newer books, mostly non-fiction medical books. Her eyes stopped, as they came to a small gun metal gray safe built into the shelf. The door was open and a book wrapped in clear plastic lay within. Turning her head to read the spine of the book, Ash’s eyes widened.

“Is this what it looks like?” Ash asked as Emma came back in the study with a bottle of wine tucked under her arm, plates, napkins and glasses balanced in her hands.

She put the glasses and plates down on an end table. “Depends. What do you think it is?” Emma grinned.

“I think you have a first edition of Rimbaud’s A Season in Hell.” Ash wanted to touch the book, but her fingers hovered inches above the protected spine.

Emma handed Ash a glass of wine. “I’m impressed.” She reached up and gently slid the book from the safe.

“Aren’t you worried? I mean keeping it in your house like this?” Ash took a sip of the wine, and smiled at the smooth, cherry and wood flavors that coated her mouth. “Shouldn’t it be locked up somewhere?”

Laying the book on a small pedestal, Emma opened the cover. “What would be the point of owning it if I couldn’t look at it?”

Ash nodded. “I would have that safe locked at least.” She put her wine glass down, and stood looking over Emma’s shoulder.

Emma tilted her head to the side, looking at the book closely. “It usually is. I was looking at the book earlier, and in my rush to get over to you, I inadvertently left the safe open.”

Ash stopped looking at the book, and turned her attention to Emma. She studied her profile, and a surge of love and affection rolled over her. She couldn’t help but smile. “I turned silences and nights into words. What was unutterable, I wrote down. I made the whirling world stand still.”

Emma turned to look intently at Ash. “Are you sure your degree was in criminology and not literature?”

Ash grinned. “I had a crush on my French poetry professor sophomore year; so I paid extra attention to every word that came out of her mouth.” Ash looked back at the book, its pages slightly yellowed, Rimbaud’s inscription to his lover Paul Verlaine slanted and a little unhinged.  She ran the tip of her finger up Emma’s forearm. “You made the whirling stand still tonight. Thank you.”

Emma pulled Ash into her arms, and kissed along her neck and jaw. “I thought, when I heard, that maybe you had been-” The woman turned her head so Ash couldn’t see her face. “That you might be among the dead.”

Ash took Emma’s face in her hands, and kissed her fully on the lips. “I’m glad you came, and I’m sorry you were scared.”

Emma nodded and took a deep breath. “Do you want to look at the book before or after we eat the greasy pizza?”

Ash laughed. “After, of course.”

Emma frowned. “I fear a steep depreciation in my investment.”

***

Ash felt a smooth cool hand on her cheek, and taking a deep breath the scent of lavender wafted over her. “Ash. You fell asleep. Let’s go upstairs.”

Emma’s voice was quiet and near her left ear. She opened her eyes slowly and stretched. Wiping at her face, she realized she must have fallen into a deep sleep given the amount of drool on her cheek and chin. “Shit.” Ash sat bolt upright, wiping furiously at her face. “Please tell me I didn’t-” She looked at Emma, and then at the shoulder of her white robe that was clearly wet.

“Oh God.” Ash got up, and wiped the last of the drool off her face. “I am so sorry. I must have really fallen asleep.” Emma sat on the couch, an amused expression on her face as she watched Ash pace back and forth. “What time is it?” Ash looked around for a clock.

Emma glanced at the paused episode of Golden Girls. “A little after eleven.”

Ash leaned against the desk. “This is the least sexiest thing I can imagine.”

Emma turned the television off and laid the remote on the table. She got up and stood in front of Ash. “Well, there’s always snoring.”

Ash’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me-”

Emma nodded, an exaggerated grimace on her face. “Afraid so.”

Ash rubbed her face with the palms of her hands. “Don’t look at me.”

Emma took Ash’s hands in hers. Lowering them to Ash’s side, she stepped closer to the embarrassed woman. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you are even more beautiful when you’re frazzled.”

“Don’t make fun.” Ash frowned.

“Never.” Emma pulled the woman to her, wrapping her arms around Ash’s shoulder. “Watch for the spit.”

Ash couldn’t help but laugh. The day had been full of horrific events, tender moments, and the last thing she would have expected, her drooling on a beautiful woman’s shoulder while snoring in her ear. “Rethinking sleeping in the same bed with me?” Ash had wanted to broach the subject since Emma made the offhanded remark in the kitchen several hours ago.

“Not a chance.” Emma turned Ash toward the door of the study, and with her hands on the woman’s shoulders, guided her toward the stairs. Pausing at the foot of the stairs, Emma turned Ash toward her. “All kidding aside, are you okay with it? You’ve had a long day, and I don’t want you to feel pressured or obligated.”

Ash shook her head. “If I didn’t want to be here, with you - like this, I would leave.” Ash took Emma’s hand and started walking up the stairs.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Emma took the lead and walked Ash down a long, hallway to the master bedroom. Ash noticed several numbered Matisse prints along the wall, and was in awe not only of Emma’s impeccable taste, but - given the book collection downstairs - a very expansive budget.

The bedroom was decorated in the same British Colonial style as the rest of the house. A large king size bed piled high with dark blue and chocolate colored pillows sat against the farthest wall of the room. There was a wide, open hallway lined with sliding doors Ash assumed were closets. At the end of the hall was the bathroom. Rugs were placed throughout the room, accenting the walnut hardwood floors.

Ash’s heart rate sped up as the realization she was in Emma’s bedroom set in. Her heart was pounding not because she was nervous. Not even because she wanted the beautiful woman standing next to her. It was beating furiously in her chest because, in that moment, she knew she was in love with Emma.

“Are you okay?” Emma looked at Ash, and then at her chest as if she could hear her racing heart.

Ash nodded, and swallowed the lump in her throat. The day - and the epiphanies it brought - was becoming too much. “Just tired.”

Emma smiled reassuringly. “Let me get you something to wear.” She pulled Ash by the hand the rest of the way into the bedroom, and then disappeared down the hallway leading toward the bathroom. She was back within a minute with a pair of black cotton shorts, and a dark gray t-shirt with the word Princeton in orange, block letters across the front.

Ash took the clothes and holding the shirt up in front of her shook her head. “I can only wear this under one condition.” She looked out the top of her eyes at Emma. “You can’t ever tell Alan about this.”

Emma frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“Well, regardless of the fact Princeton colors are sort of-maybe like UT burnt orange, if he gets wind I’m in anything other than Longhorn garb, I’ll never hear the end of it.” Ash started walking toward the bathroom.

“You know that’s really a Texas phenomenon. Outside the state there are people who don’t know anything about UT versus A&M.” Emma started pulling the covers on the bed back. “Much less the whole bleeding orange thing.” Emma grimaced. “Which is off putting by the way.”

Ash shook her head as she closed the bathroom door. “Spoken like a non-Texan.” Shutting the door, it occurred to her she didn’t know where Emma was from. The realization that she was in love with a woman who she really knew so little about caused Ash to cringe.

Emma had asked her so many questions about herself over the past few weeks, it hadn’t occurred to Ash she wasn’t reciprocating. You’ll make a great girlfriend, Haines.

As she was getting dressed there was a faint knock at the door. “There’s a new toothbrush in the drawer to the right of the sink. Help yourself.”

Ash pulled the drawer open, and smiled. “Thanks.”

A few minutes later Ash stood, dressed in Emma’s clothes, her breath minty fresh, and trying to work up the courage to go back into the bedroom. Taking a deep breath, Ash opened the door.

She found Emma lying in the bed wearing a black tank top, the blankets pulled up to her waist. Ash walked to the edge of the bed, and pulled the covers back, catching sight of Emma’s bare legs as she was only wearing a pair of gray panties.

Sliding into bed next to Emma, Ash turned on her side to face the woman, noticing no residual heat from Emma’s body escaped. “Are you cold?” Ash asked.

Emma shook her head, and settled further down in the bed. “Nope. You?”

Ash reached for Emma, and draped her arm across the woman’s stomach. “I’m good.”

The tension in the room was palatable. “Are you nervous?” Emma’s voice was a whisper into Ash’s hair.

“God, yes.” Ash jerked her head up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-” She stammered.

“I know what you mean.” Emma placed a light kiss on Ash’s forehead. “It can be this for tonight.” She said.

Ash laid her head back down on Emma’s chest. She didn’t know what she wanted for tonight, but she knew Emma holding her right now was perfect. Emma shifted slightly and a second later the room was plunged into darkness. Ash brought her legs up, and entwined them with Emma’s long muscular ones, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

Ash’s eyes opened. There wasn’t a clock in the room, but the feeling that time had elapsed was definite. She was still lying with her head on Emma’s shoulder, and the woman’s arms were draped around her. Ash tilted her head up, and was surprised in the dim light of the bedroom, to see Emma’s eyes open.

Emma looked at Ash, and lifted her hand to gently stroke the woman’s hair. A feather light kiss was placed on Ash’s forehead, and a quiet sigh escaped her lips. Ash shifted up, and found Emma’s lips, the kiss that followed quickly heated up. She turned Ash so she was on her back, and quickly slid the black shorts over Ash’s hips and discarded them on the floor.

Ash sat up enough to pull her t-shirt off, while Emma took her tank top and panties off. Emma settled between Ash’s legs. Ash’s hands ached to touch as much of the woman as possible, and a loud moan escaped her lips as the weight of the other woman pushed down on her. She needed Emma to know how badly she wanted her.

Emma clung to Ash, her arms hooked under Ash’s shoulders. Nipping and sucking on Ash’s lips as their tongues teased and taunted each other. Emma pushed her thigh between Ash’s legs, and the brunette gasped when Emma’s leg made contact with the juncture between her thighs. She clutched the back of Emma’s head, her fingers pulling at the blonde, loose strands. Emma’s left hand found its way between her thighs, where her knee had been pressed. She cupped Ash hard, feeling her straining and pushing against her.

Ash clawed at Emma’s shoulders, pulling her mouth back to hers. Ash opened her eyes, and moved her head back so she could see Emma’s face. The woman’s eyes were slammed shut. Emma moved her mouth down to Ash’s breasts, placing kisses along the outer edge of her nipple, and then gently covering the hardened bud with her mouth.

Pressing Emma’s head tight against her, something like a growl came from Emma’s lips. Ash shifted her hips, and a plea of frustration came in a whisper. “Please, Em.”

Emma tilted her hand, bringing her thumb in contact with Ash’s swollen clit. A sharp intake of breath preceded Ash pulling Emma even tighter against her chest. Emma pushed the tip of her middle finger inside Ash. She couldn’t stifle her moan as she reveled in the tightness and wetness wrapping itself around her.

Emma slid the full length of her finger inside Ash, and then after a single thrust, added a second. Ash’s arms wrapped tightly around Emma as she moved inside her. Her hips rocked in unison with Emma’s fingers, and she moaned as Emma quickened her pace.  Emma’s body began to shake uncontrollably as Ash neared her climax. Emma’s gasps, low and throaty, filled Ash’s ears as she tightened, and tensed around her fingers.  Ash’s body seized, and she pushed and pulled at Emma’s shoulders as her orgasm washed over her.

Ash felt weak and she couldn’t stop shaking as Emma placed a series of kisses along her shoulder and neck. Not willing to move away from the beautiful woman, Ash clung to her. Emma pulled Ash’s face towards her. Her eyes still closed, Emma’s lips found Ash’s, and then she nestled her face in Ash’s neck.

Running the tips of her fingers up and down Emma’s back, Ash couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. She should have felt silly, this being at least the third time she had cried with Emma, but the soft kisses on her cheeks and neck along with whispered reassurances comforted Ash. Whatever the tensions and the stresses of that day, the touch of these lips and these hands had found Ash.

Chapter 12

“Good morning.” Emma’s voice broke through the deep sleep Ash was in. She was lying on her stomach, and turned over to see Emma standing next to the bed with a tray of food in front of her. “I popped out this morning and grabbed a few things. Hope it’s to your taste.”

Ash rubbed her eyes, and sat up. The blanket fell and reminded her she was naked. A rush of heat shot to her face as she recalled the night before, and the memory of Emma’s hands and mouth on her. She blushed. “I’m sure it’s fine.” She pushed herself up further on the bed.

“Eggs, toast, bacon and – ta-da! - coffee.” Emma smiled as she put the tray across Ash’s lap.

Ash grinned as Emma was clearly pleased. “You’re setting the bar pretty high here, Atman. Just so you know, toast and tea will be the extent of my culinary prowess when you sleep over.” There was a flash of uncertainty across Emma’s face, and Ash wondered if she was assuming too much about what last night meant.

“I have to go into work for a few hours, but don’t feel like you have to rush off.” Emma smiled as she headed toward the bathroom.

Ash felt a prickling at the back of her neck. The doctor’s tone didn’t feel right. “What’s wrong?” It was the first question that went through Ash’s mind, and it seemed the most direct.

Emma stopped and turned to face her. “I need to talk to you after you finish eating, and before I go to work.” Without another word, she went into the bathroom, and shut the door.

Ash put the piece of buttered toast she had just taken a bite of back on the sea glass colored plate, her appetite making a hasty retreat. Lifting the tray up, and placing it on the bed beside her, Ash slid out from under the warm blankets. After a few minutes, she managed to locate the shorts and Princeton t-shirt from last night. She picked up the tray, and made her way downstairs, determined not to be in the vulnerable position of naked and in Emma’s bed when they had their talk.

“There you are.” Emma was pinning her hair back in a bun as she walked into the kitchen. Frowning as she looked at the still full tray. “Not hungry?”

Ash steeled herself. The woman looked incredible. She was wearing a black, knee length, Prada skirt, and a slim fit cobalt blue silk blouse that accented her eyes so they seemed to glow. “I’ll eat a bit later. After the talk.” Ash slid onto one of the bar stools.

Emma ran her tongue across her bottom lip nervously. “Right.” She walked around the island and sat next to Ash. She laid her hand bag down  next to her. “I haven’t been honest with you, and I - given the turn our relationship took yesterday, I need to tell you a few things.”

Ash swallowed hard. Her throat suddenly tight. She couldn’t imagine what the woman was going to tell her. Was she seeing someone else? Were her and Coleen serious? Did she used to be a man? A whole litany of possibilities shot through Ash’s head. “Okay.”

Emma managed a weak smile. “Your suspicions about the Garrett case are correct.”

Ash stared blankly at Emma. The casual way she stated this quintessential fact was beyond Ash’s comprehension. “Wha-” The woman swallowed, the bite of toast from earlier threating to make another appearance.

Emma took Ash’s hand. “Paul Garrett was murdered by a vampire. More to the point, Paul was murdered by Ela. It had to do with a nearly century old feud between Ela and Rachel Collins.”

Ash felt the sides of her vision narrowing and she reached for the counter top to steady herself. “Are you fucking with me?”

Emma squeezed Ash’s shoulder. “I assure you, given the carnage of the past few weeks, I would not - I would not fuck with you.”

Ash gasped for air, trying not to pass out. “Explain.”

Emma went to the sink and got Ash a glass of water. “Here, take this. Try to breathe. I can only imagine how shocking this is for you.”

Ash took the water, and drank the entire glass. “Can you? Can you imagine how shocking it is to be told all the books and movies are true?”

Emma cocked her head to the side. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Ash looked at Emma. “How do you know all this?”

Emma bit her lower lip. “I agreed many years ago to keep secret certain aspects of the vampire world.”

Ash was shocked. “You mean you use your position to lie, and mislead authorities. Authorities like me.” The anger was righteous as it began coursing through Ash.

“Yes, but for the greater good Ash.” Emma’s eyes were pleading. “There’s an order to things that must be preserved. It serves no purpose for humans to know about vampires.”

Ash got up and began pacing. “Like hell it doesn’t!” She turned the full force of her wrath on Emma. “Maybe if we knew those things existed we could protect ourselves. We would know what to look for, and people like Paul Garrett wouldn’t be ripped apart by some blood thirsty maniac!”

“They’re not all like that Ash. Ela is an exception to the rule.” Emma insisted.

“Says you. Says the woman who protects them.” Ash seethed. “Did Ela murder Cris and those other officers?”

Emma hesitated. “No. That was a lycan.”

Ash took a step back as if she had been slapped in the face. “For fuck’s sake!”

“Ash, please understand.” Emma took a step toward her. “It took me time to figure out what I should and shouldn’t tell you. Frankly what I could tell you.”

Ash clenched her teeth. “Why now?”

Emma looked down, and flicked her index finger back and forth across her thumb. “When I thought you were dead. When I - when we were together last night. I knew I lo-” The woman shook her head. “I knew I needed to tell you.”

“You mentioned Rachel Collins. She’s a vampire?” Ash refused to acknowledge Emma’s near confession of love. She refused to acknowledge her own feelings right now. The feelings of safety and intimacy that had given her so much joy last night, were being trampled on by lies and deceptions.

“Yes. She and Ela were lovers when they were both human. The records you found from the concentration camp, those weren’t relatives. It was Ela and Rachel.”

Emma looked down. “There was a falling out, and Ela holds Rachel responsible. Killing Garrett was meant to complicate Rachel and Sara Glass’ lives.” Emma spoke quickly.

Ash shook her head. “I have to talk to Rachel and Sara again.”

Emma nodded. “I understand.”

Ash looked at her. Her pulse racing as she struggled against the conflicting emotions of hurt and anger. “I don’t think you do, Emma.”

“Ash, I know I’ve betrayed your trust, and you blame me for Cris’ death.” Emma’s voice caught. “Please believe me. I had no way of knowing how quickly and badly things would spin out of control.” She put her hand on Ash’s shoulder, and had it quickly pushed away.

“Emma, I can’t even think about us right now after what you’ve told me.” She ran her fingers through her hair.

“There’s something else.” Emma took a deep breath.

“Christ, there’s more?” Ash sat back down on the stool, her morning rapidly reaching ridiculous.

“Lara.” Emma put her palms flat on the granite counter, refusing to make eye contact with Ash. “She’s a shifter, and if I’m right - in league with Ela.”

She’s going to be livid. The cryptic phrase Lara had uttered when they were breaking up came back to Ash. “She was sent after me?” Remembering Alan’s client Ana, Ash quickly pieced the horrific scenario together. “But why?”

Emma winced, chewing nervously at the inside of her cheek. “Ela is a sociopath, and I know it’s hard to hear, but she was doing it for her own amusement.” Emma rolled her neck back and forth as if it were stiff. “Eternity can be too long and too dull for some. Plus, from what Coleen has told me, Ela came over damaged.”

Ash’s brow furrowed. “Coleen is a vampire?” She held her hand up. “Of course she is. And Alan’s a vampire, and Amy is a shifter, and you’re a lycan, and the whole world has just spun off its axis.” Ash got up and grabbed a pad of paper and pen from the nook. “Write your address down.”

She walked toward the hall. “I’m calling a cab, and then I’m leaving. I need to go talk to Rachel and Sara.” Ash stopped, and turned to face Emma. “Unless you know who killed Cris?”

Emma stood, her hands behind her back, her head lowered. “I don’t.”

Ash threw her hands up in the air, and let out a mock laugh. “Well, that’s something.”

***

After showering, Ash had found Rachel Collins’ address on the county property tax site. The vampire was a home owner. Leaving her apartment and walking quickly toward her Jeep, Ash was struggling to keep her thoughts focused on the task at hand. She continued to replay Emma and hers conversation over in her head, and besides the obvious reasons, there was something more that didn’t sit right with Ash.

She pulled up in front of Rachel’s single story brick house in the north central neighborhood of Stone Oak. The neighborhood was newer, and catered to upper middle class families.

“Detective Haines. This is a surprise.” Ash was surprised Emma hadn’t called Rachel to warn her she was on her way.

“Ms. Collins. May I come in, please?” Ash looked closely at the woman. She was as beautiful and flawless as Ash remembered. Knowing now what Rachel was, Ash was even more surprised to see her standing in a doorway in the middle of the afternoon. Emma was right when she said it wasn’t like the books and movies.

“Please.” Rachel stepped back, allowing Ash to enter, then shut the door. “Your partner left me a message several days ago, and I’m sorry, but I was travelling for business and haven’t had a chance to get back to him.”

Ash walked into a living room adjacent to the entry way. It was decorated in dark, heavy furniture with a series of ornate tapestries hanging on the walls. “Detective Martinez was murdered, along with five other officers, yesterday.”

Rachel gasped. “I - I’m so sorry. What happened?”

Ash looked at the woman. Her reaction seemed sincere. “They were ambushed by a lycan.” Ash focused so she wouldn’t stumble over the word.

Rachel tilted her head back, the expression of concern replaced with an icy stare. The warmth and charm she had exuded was gone. “A what?”

Ash exhaled. “Don’t bullshit me, Ms. Collins. The jig is up.” It occurred to Ash that if what Emma said was true, she was inciting a vampire, behind closed doors, and could very easily become a mid-day snack.

“Rach, is something wrong?” Sara Glass came into the room. Ash noticed immediately the more melodic tones of her voice, and her appearance was altered significantly.

She had been a very attractive woman before, but now, like Rachel, her skin was flawless and her features perfectly symmetrical. Her blonde hair hung loose around her shoulders, and was the color of golden wheat. The green of her eyes was sharper and nearly iridescent. Looking at Sara, a tension began to build at the back of Ash’s brain. A realization she was struggling to wrap her head around, as if her mind was willfully disregarding it.

“Detective Haines’ partner was murdered yesterday, along with five other officers.” Rachel looked at Sara and then back at Ash. “She’s making inquiries.”

Sara frowned. “Why would you be here for that, detective?”

Before Ash could answer, Rachel cleared her throat. “She believes a lycan committed the crimes.”

Sara’s eyebrow arched. “What?”

“Oh, would you both please give it a rest.” Ash practically shouted. “I mean, if I had any doubt about what Emma told me, looking at you sure as hell puts that to rest.” Ash gestured to Sara. “I mean look at you, Ms. Glass.”

Sara looked down, and then quickly back at Rachel who, after a few seconds, nodded. “What can we do for you, detective?”

Ash sighed. “Thank you, Ms. Glass, for not continuing to treat me like a complete idiot.”

“Have a seat.” Sara motioned to the sofa. “Rach, come sit with us.” Rachel didn’t speak, but took a seat next to Sara on the loveseat across from Ash. “You can imagine, detective, your visit comes as a surprise.” Sara was calm as she crossed her legs.

“Today is full of surprises, Ms. Glass.” Ash continued to be amazed at the woman’s transformation.

“Please call me Sara. I think we know enough about each other to dispense with the formalities.” Sara reached for Rachel’s hand.

“Very true, Sara.” Ash leaned back on the couch, Rachel’s stillness causing her to be cautious. “Ela Jacobs killed Paul Garrett to - and let me make sure I get this right - to in essence, fuck with you?” Ash looked at Rachel.

Rachel nodded. “Yes. We met in a Nazi labor camp during World War II. We were lovers and escaped together. I was turned, and then I accidentally killed her. A vampire named Coleen, turned Ela, and has subsequently admitted it was the worst decision of her existence.”

A slight smile came and went from Rachel’s lips. “Ela blamed me and has spent the better part of the past seventy years tracking me down. Wreaking havoc wherever she went would be an understatement.”

Ash shook her head. The realization that Coleen was involved from the beginning, and that Emma was in partnership with her, just further fueled Ash’s anger toward the woman. “Where is Ela now?”

“Dead.” Sara responded without hesitation.

Ash’s brow arched. “Dead? I thought your kind lived forever?”

“Nothing is forever if it isn’t taken care of properly.” Rachel said flatly. “And to be clear, detective, given Ela’s penchant for debauchery, may we assume any means by which she was ended would be above reproach - and the law?”

Ash looked back and forth between Rachel and Sara. Clearly one, if not both, of the women had killed Ela in retaliation, or for self-preservation. The cop in Ash said it didn’t matter what the motive was, they needed to be accountable. The pragmatist in Ash knew the letter of the law didn’t apply to someone who was technically dead. “You may assume that.”

“She kidnapped my sister, and meant to use her to bring Rachel and I out into the open so she could kill us both. She hadn’t anticipated my being turned, and I ended her.” Sara’s squeezed Rachel’s hand.

“And what about Lara Ramirez?” Ash asked.

The two vampires looked at each other. “I’m not familiar with her.” Rachel finally answered. “Who is she?”

“According to Emma, she’s a shifter in league with Ela.” Ash watched their reactions, and could see from Rachel’s sharp intake of breath she had caught them both off guard.

“What is it?” Sara asked Rachel.

Rachel looked at Sara and then back at Ash. “Shifters are descendants of the lycans. Cousins would be a good comparison. Most are born, some are turned, but the interdependency between the vampire and the shifter has – with more modern thinking – become taboo.”

Sara shook her head. “What does that mean?”

Ash was confused that Sara didn’t seem to be in the know. “You don’t know about this?”

Sara hesitated as she looked from Rachel to Ash. “I’ve been a vampire for less than a month. You don’t turn and suddenly acquire centuries’ worth of knowledge. You and I are going to learn this one together.” She gave Ash a genuine smile, and the detective could see the woman she had met several weeks ago was still clearly there in spite of her newly acquired appetites.

Rachel put her arm around Sara, and smiled. “I’ve never actually met a shifter, but what I know from Coleen – who forbids such couplings – the relationship with a vampire can be complicated. The shifter ages at a human rate. But if given vampire blood, a shifter’s aging stops, and they can live for as long as the blood doesn’t run out.”

Rachel shook her head. “The shifter’s blood is like a narcotic to vampires, but generally the shifter becomes more dependent on the vampire; so the relationship is very inequitable. And with the wrong vampire, very cruel.”

“Cruel how?” Ash was mesmerized as her world continued to grow larger by the second.

“Some vampires abuse the relationship, as I imagine Ela did, and will deny the shifter blood for periods of time so the shifter experiences the pain of accelerated aging.”

“God, Rach. That’s horrible.” Sara cringed.

Rachel nodded. “With Ela dead, Lara must be getting desperate.” Rachel took a deep breath. “Emma and Coleen both need to be careful. I’m sure her time with Ela provided Lara a tremendous amount of insight into our weaknesses.”

The tension at the back of Ash’s brain grew rapidly into a fire that spread down her neck and out to the tips of her fingers and toes. She barely managed a whisper when she spoke. “Emma?”

Sara realized her lover’s mistake first. “Oh, God. Ashley, we thought…”

Rachel frowned. “I assumed when you arrived here, that Emma had told you she was vampire.”

Ash felt the room spin. Her body was awash with prickling static, and sweat formed on her brow before she fell to the floor.

“Ashley?” A cool cloth was being gently wiped along Ash’s forehead and cheeks. “Can you hear me?” Sara’s voice was calm and soothing.

Ash felt sick to her stomach. Her pride dictated she should get up off these practical strangers’ floor, but she thought throwing up on that floor was a worse option. “Give me a minute, please.”

“Of course. Take your time.” Rachel was patting Ash’s hand reassuringly. The coolness of her hand reminded her of Emma, and the comfort she had given Ash last night. Then Ash remembered what she had learned moments ago. Emma was a vampire.

Ash slowly sat up, and Sara effortlessly lifted her and put her on the sofa. “We’re sorry you found out this way, Ashley.”

Rachel shook her head. “Why wouldn’t she just tell you if she told you everything else?”

Ash shifted so she was sitting up more than reclining. Her equilibrium was returning. “She hedged her bets. Maybe you wouldn’t say anything, if you did, she would deal with it.”

“Ashley, you have to know she faced an impossible choice.” Sara offered. “Try to focus on the feelings the two of you share, friendship or otherwise, when you consider your next steps.”

“I don’t know Emma very well, but what I do know is she probably got a slide rule out before she talked to Ashley, and calculated the odds.” Rachel brushed a loose strand of hair off Ash’s damp forehead.

“I need to go. Thank you for your time and candor.” Ash slowly put her feet over the edge of the sofa.

“Should you drive?” Sara asked, with concern on her face.

If Ash didn’t feel so crappy, she would find the exchange comical. Two vampires worried about the wellbeing of someone’s future dinner. She couldn’t stifle the chuckle. “Road kill.”

Rachel’s brow furrowed. “Sorry?”

Ash managed to stand. “You’re vampires. What do you care about whether I can drive?”

Sara gasped. “You’ve been misinformed, Ashley. Rachel and I don’t feed on humans. In fact, many vampires opt for a non-human diet.”

Ash realized she hadn’t really been informed at all. She had assumed. “Sorry. My mistake.”

“In fact, from what Coleen has told me, Emma is the most restrained of the lot.” Rachel walked Ash toward the front door.

“Why?” Ash was confused.

“Something that happened to her shortly after she was turned. Coleen was vague, as Coleen is wont to be.” Rachel held the door open. “Please be careful, and Ashley – this stays with you, yes?”

That was the million dollar question wasn’t it? Was Ash going to keep the revelations of the past few hours to herself, or was she going to blow the proverbial lid off the whole vampire, lycan, shifter and god knows what else, world? “Yes.” She didn’t lie exactly, but maybe didn’t seem like a very good answer either.

Chapter 13

Ash slipped the key in the front door of her apartment. The shock of what Rachel had told her, and the realization the world she had always understood was merely a fragment of a larger, darker place left her feeling restless and awake. She had been living a sheltered life. Her world was far more fragile than she had ever dared imagine.

Her already complicated feelings for Emma were further confused by the realization that she wasn’t what or who she had claimed to be. In spite of this, Ash could not stop her feelings for Emma, even if she didn’t want them.

Entering her apartment, she struggled to lift her trembling arm to turn on the light. Movement out of the corner of her eye brought her senses to full alert. The illumination she expected when flipping the light switch didn’t occur and the apartment remained cloaked in shadows.

“Who’s there?” Ash projected confidence when she spoke even though her heart was racing. Reaching down slowly, she unclipped her gun holster.

A deep baritone voice filled the space as two red orbs appeared in the corner. “You don’t fool me, detective. I can smell the fear.” Dorsey stepped out of the shadows, his eyes glowing red, and his jaw looked abnormally long.

Ash pulled her gun, and pointed it directly at the man. “Dorsey, you stop or I’ll shoot!” She bit the inside of her cheek, focusing on the pain instead of the fear coursing through her.

The room suddenly reeked of rancid meat and mildew. Ash nearly gagged as she used her free hand to cover her nose. Still focused on the large man in the corner, she watched in disbelief as he opened his mouth to reveal several rows of elongated, razor like teeth.

Dorsey’s neck was extended, and muscle and tendon began to expand and fold in on itself seemingly at the same time. The apartment filled with a series of loud cracks and pops as bones fractured and realigned.

Ash backed against the front door. “My God.” The man hunched his back forward and the outline of his spine became more pronounced against the t-shirt he wore. Reaching up with hands that now tapered to inch long nails, blackened at the beds, Dorsey ripped at the shirt, exposing his broadening chest that was rapidly becoming covered in long, coarse, black hair.

Ash aimed her gun, but before she could fire, the man lunged at her. His weight was immense, and the breath was knocked from Ash’s lungs as he landed on top of her. She fired the gun, the recoil sending a shock up her arm. The thing that had been Dorsey pulled back with a slight twitch. That was the only indication the bullet had struck it.

A noise came from behind her, and the weight of the monster was suddenly off Ash. Rolling to her stomach, she quickly got to her knees. Her brain was struggling to process what her eyes were seeing.

Emma, clad in a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt, stood in the middle of Ash’s living room with her hands wrapped around the throat of the monster that had been Dorsey. The beast towered over Emma, lurching and biting at her with its wolf like mouth.

Emma, in a single motion, leapt up and over the monster, sliding between the wolf like head and the ceiling. Now with both arms firmly around the animal’s throat, Emma pulled backward, bringing Dorsey to his knees. Reaching behind him, the monster grabbed Emma by her long blonde hair, and attempted to unsuccessfully dislodge her.

The vampire opened her mouth to the point Ash thought her jaw must have dislocated, revealing sharpened incisors that extended well beyond her upper lip. Emma’s eyes glowed an iridescent blue, illuminating the veins that branched out across her neck and jaw like a disjointed spider web.

In a series of quick lunges, Emma’s head moved back and forth around Dorsey’s neck, as she ripped pieces of the animal’s skin and muscle away. The beast yelped, and fell to its stomach. Emma lifted her head. Crouched on all fours over the dying wolflike thing, she stared at Ash. The animal’s blood dripped down her chin and onto Ash’s carpet.

Emma looked down at Dorsey, who lay beneath her whimpering. In a fraction of a second, she grabbed the animal’s neck and twisting up and over, severed the head from the neck.

Dropping the dismembered head to the floor, Emma backed away from Ash and began wiping furiously at her mouth and neck. Ash was still kneeling, but managed to push herself up to her feet. Her knees felt like rocks and she thought they might buckle from the shock of what she had just witnessed. One thing she knew for certain was she had to get to Emma, who was moving further away from her by the second.

“Stop.” Emma put her hand out. Her voice verged on a low growl, and Ash paused. “I need a minute.” Emma dropped to her knees, and tied her loose hair back in a knot. She bent over, stuck here middle finger down her throat, and gagged several times, a thin stream of blood running from her mouth.

“Are you okay?” Ash said the first thing that came to mind. Regardless of what their issues were, the woman had just saved her life.

Emma, whose eyes still glowed an eerie blue, cocked her head to the right, revealing a web of fine blue veins running along her jaw and down her neck. “The lycan blood is foul.”

Emma turned her head to the side. “It takes me a few minutes to get-” She hesitated, and shook her head. “It’s not important. I’ll get this cleaned up and leave.”

The misery in Emma’s voice caused a stab of pain in Ash’s chest. She didn’t want for her and Emma to be like this. She remembered what she had said that morning in her kitchen about vampires being things, and she knew that must have hurt Emma. Ash walked toward her, and knelt in front of her. Emma inched backwards like a scared animal. “I just need to know you’re okay.”

From her knees, Emma stood straight up in a quick motion. “I am. Thank you.”

Seeing Emma move more akin to her natural speed, was amazing to Ash. Barely able to take her eyes off of Emma, she finally looked down at the dead animal on her living room floor. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t. Rachel called and told me you knew about me; so I wanted to talk to you.” Emma pulled her shirt off, and used the cotton garment to wipe her face. Standing in her jeans and a rose colored bra, she nodded toward what was left of Dorsey. “I caught his scent, and the rest is – well, over.”

Ash steadied herself against the onslaught of desire that washed over her. She was shocked to find that Emma covered in blood, half naked, pale, eyes glowing and teeth still extended was incredibly erotic looking. “I can help.”

Emma shook her head. “I’ve caused you enough grief at this point. I don’t want you party to the disposal of a body.” She was still not making eye contact with Ash.

“Why won’t you look at me?” Ash asked. She could handle a lot of things, but Emma being unwilling or unable to look at her was not one of them.

After a few seconds, Emma cautiously looked at Ash. Her eyes were nearly back to their normal blue. “I’m ashamed.”

Hearing Emma say it, brought tears to Ash’s eyes. “Why?”

Emma exhaled. “I lied to you. By lying, I put you and people you care about at risk. As much as I want you, I don’t deserve you.”

This was one of those times when being right was absolutely no comfort to Ash. She knew she was right to be angry at Emma, she knew she should be cautious in giving too much of herself to a woman who’s life she couldn’t even imagine. But she felt this unexpected, unpredictable, uncontrollable surge of compassion building in her.

She knew for almost anyone else, it could not exist, but for Emma there was this wellspring Ash had not imagined herself capable of harboring.

“I don’t want us to not be in each other’s lives.” Ash took a deep breath, trying to clear the lump in her throat. “I’m not sure what that looks like, but I can’t hate you, and I don’t want you to hate me.”

Emma took a tentative step toward Ash. “I could never hate you.”

Ash frowned. “I haven’t been exactly mature the past eight hours. I called you a thing, Em, and when that wasn’t bad enough, I resorted to sarcasm and expletives.”

Emma bit her lower lip, her incisors having retracted. “I noticed that. But in your defense it was a lot to process.”

“I won’t lie, the whole vampire thing freaks me out.” Ash needed to be honest with Emma. “Grant you, I don’t know exactly what the whole vampire thing is, but I’m willing to learn.” Emma grinned.

“In the meantime, what do you want to do about this-” Ash almost said thing and thought better of it. “Ah?”

Emma looked closely at Ash for a second before speaking. “Lycan.”

Ash shook her head. “Sorry?”

“Dorsey was a lycan. Werewolf.” Emma nodded toward the corpse.

The absurdity of her day was catching up to her, and Ash couldn’t help but smile. “This is not what I thought you meant when you talked about lycans this morning. Is there some sort of primer, or a Cliffs Notes for the supernatural?”

Emma laughed. “He wasn’t done shifting; otherwise, he would look more like - the movies.” Emma pursed her lips, clearly not happy making the comparison. She scanned the apartment. “Do you think anyone has called the police? Either because of the gunshot or the noise?”

Ash wanted desperately to pull Emma to her, but there were still too many unknowns. The certainty of the night before had been eroded, and Ash was struggling to find her way back to the safety and intimacy she had experienced with Emma.

“First, I am the police. Second, the apartment below me is vacant and the shot was muffled.” Ash paused. “Third, you should have told me. That was a rotten trick you played on Rachel and Sara.” Ash didn’t know what else to do but continue to be as honest with Emma as possible.

Emma looked down, unable to make eye contact with Ash. “Eternity doesn’t necessarily give you courage.”

The pained expression on Emma’s face and the anguish in her voice tore at Ash’s heart. “Emma, you’re not a coward.” She remembered what Sara had said about impossible choices. “There weren’t really any good options.”

“I could have stayed away from you. I could have left you out of it.” Emma’s voice cracked.

It was then that Ash knew she would eventually forgive Emma. She didn’t know if she was going to be anything more than Emma’s friend, but thinking of her life without ever knowing her caused Ash’s stomach to turn and her mouth to go dry. “I don’t want that.”

Emma smiled. “Thank you for saying that.” Emma tilted her head. “I don’t hear any sirens.”

Ash laughed. “Well neither do I, but that doesn’t mean -” Ash hesitated as what Emma said sunk in. “Right, you can hear much better than I can.” Ash felt like an idiot.

Emma smiled, the blood around her mouth now drying and hardening. “It’s okay. Yes, I can hear at about a five mile radius in the city. Farther in the country, when I don’t have to work so hard at filtering out the peripheral noise.”

Emma tilted her head again. “No police, and based on the heart rates of your nearest neighbors, they’re still asleep.” Emma looked at Ash, her eyes having returned to their natural, intense blue. “May I use your shower, and borrow some clothes?”

Ash stood in amazement and awe of Emma. She knew their relationship was going to be complicated, but she didn’t know what relationship wasn’t. They would just have to manage a more diverse range of issues. “Absolutely.” Ash looked down at what was left of Dorsey. “What about him? Is he the one that killed Cris?”

Emma chewed the inside of her lip nervously and looked around the apartment. “I think that’s a safe conclusion. He has the same foul odor I smelled at the motel.” Emma wrinkled her nose. “Do you have a large sheet or rug?”

Ash shook her head. “We have to find a way to report this, Emma. This animal killed six cops, including my partner.”

Emma looked at Ash and then back at Dorsey. “Of course.” The doctor crouched next to the corpse. “He will eventually shift back to his human form. It will take several hours, and not smell great while he does it.” Emma poked at the man’s shoulder. “The roughness of his skin is already lessening; so maybe three hours.”

Ash frowned. “What are you suggesting?”

Emma looked up at Ash. “The truth, or at least some semblance of the truth.” Emma stood up. “You came home, Dorsey was waiting for you, and you shot him.”

Ash grimaced. “Ah, Emma, I know a lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours and maybe you’re a little off your game, but how would I explain the severed head?”

Emma rubbed the back of her neck. “Good point.”

The two women stood staring at the dead man for several minutes, until finally Ash cleared her throat. “There’s really no way to do this, is there?”

Emma nodded. “I blame myself for ripping off his head, but it’s really the only way to make certain a lycan is dead.”

Ash nodded, finding this line of conversation surreal. “Because when you kill a lycan you want to do it right.”

Emma’s eyes shot up to Ash. “Still making fun of me, detective?”

Ash chuckled. “Yes.”

Emma shook her head. “The sheet or rug?”

“Let me check my spare bedroom closet.” Ash was conflicted. She was a police officer, and was effectively covering up the murder - albeit in self-defense - of another officer and mass murderer. There was no other way to do this, though, and not have the entire world turned on its head with the realization that all the fairy tales and horror stories are true.

Not to mention, the last thing she wanted was to lose Emma in all this. At that moment the maybe from her conversation with Rachel earlier became a definite yes.

Ash came back from her spare bedroom. Emma was crouched next to the corpse. “I have a comforter I haven’t taken out of the packaging; so if the body is found at least my DNA won’t be all over it.” Emma nodded, and reached for the comforter, but Ash pulled it back. “What about you?”

Emma smiled, and took the comforter from Ash. “I don’t shed dead skin, follicles - and any fluid is difficult, if not impossible, to characterize and analyze.”

Ash nodded. She remembered the Garrett crime scene where there wasn’t even any of Ela’s skin under the dead man’s nails even though he had clearly tried to fight her off. “What will you do with him?”

Emma spread the comforter out on the living room floor. “When was the last time you vacuumed?”

Ash frowned. “Are you suggesting -”

Emma looked up and shook her head. “No, I’m not making a passive aggressive comment on your cleanliness. But I am wondering how much of the standard dirt and dust from your apartment is going to get on this blanket.”

“I vacuumed three days ago, and have hardly been in the place since.” Ash answered, her embarrassment lessening with Emma’s explanation.

“Should be acceptable then.” Emma flipped the large man over and effortlessly lifted him up and onto the comforter. She ran her hands over his stomach, hunched over him, and took several deep breaths in through her nose.

“Ah, Emma, what are you doing?” Ash cringed.

Not answering, Emma’s hand came to rest over a swollen area to the left of the man’s navel. She stuck her index finger and thumb into the pliable flesh, rotating her hand around in a semi-circle, then stopped. “Come on, where are you?” A second later she removed her fingers. Pinched between her bloodied digits was the shell from Ash’s Glock 17. “No need for souvenirs.” She put the bullet in her pant pocket. “He didn’t have time to expel it before I killed him.”

Ash had trouble reconciling Emma’s slight frame with the strength she was exhibiting, along with her casual attitude toward corpse removal. “What are you going to do with him?”

Emma wrapped the ends of the blanket around Dorsey’s feet. “Bury him.” She reached to her right, and without looking, picked up the severed head and dropped it on the corpse’s chest. “Deep.”

Ash swallowed. “I assume you don’t need my help with that. I would only be in the way?”

Emma stood up, having completely encased the dead body in the comforter. “I wouldn’t want to risk it.”

Ash was relieved. “Ready for that shower?”

Emma looked at Ash. “Yes, thank you.”

As Ash walked Emma back to her spare bathroom, she was struck by how proper and polite Emma managed to be even in this crisis. The manners must be intrinsic to the woman, regardless of whether she was a vampire or human. “Here you are. Towels and whatnot are in there. I’ll get you a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and leave them in the spare bedroom for you.”

Ash looked Emma up and down. “I’m a bit taller, but we’re about the same size.”

Emma smiled and went into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door. Ash went to get the clothes from her closet. She laid out a pair of jeans she hadn’t worn in nearly a year, and a beige long sleeve t-shirt on the spare bed. She heard the shower come on. Instead of going back into the living room to sit awkwardly with a dead werewolf, she walked to her bedroom, and lay across the bed.

A few minutes later, the shower stopped, and Emma came out wrapped in a towel, her hair pulled up higher on her head then before. “Do you have any bleach based tile spray?”

Ash sat up and looked puzzled. “I assume you’re asking because a gallon of lycan blood just went down the drain, and presumably some splashed on the walls?”

Emma grinned. “Yes. Otherwise, your bathroom was immaculate.”

“I’ll take care of it while you get dressed.” Ash was trying desperately not to look at the swell of Emma’s breast just above the hem of the towel. Images of her naked from the night before, and how amazing she felt, shot through Ash’s mind.

Emma was blocking the doorway. “I can do it.”

Ash stopped, and glanced at the floor. “It’s no trouble.”

“Ash I think-” Emma was getting agitated.

“Emma, please, my self-restraint is waning here.” Ash glanced at Emma quickly and then back at the floor.

Emma looked perplexed, her eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t –” Her eyes widened. “I thought that-”

Ash sighed and managed to make eye contact with the beautiful woman. “You thought the attraction would just stop?”

Emma nodded. “I assumed the idea would be – unpleasant.” She swallowed hard, and picked nervously at the towel.

Ash walked toward Emma, and pushing past her, grabbed her hand, squeezed it and released it. “Shows what you know.”

***

Ash sat on her sofa, nervously drumming her fingers on the arm rest. Emma had left nearly an hour ago with Dorsey’s body. There was a loud knock on the front door, and Ash jumped. She was edgy, and who would blame her, given the situation? She looked at her watch. It was nearly midnight. Getting up, she walked to the door, and looked through the peep hole. The walkway was deserted.

Turning to walk back to the couch, an even louder knock echoed through the apartment. “I don’t have all night, Detective Haines.” A man’s voice, deep and with a hint of a Cockney accent, came from the other side of the door. Minus the accent, it reminded Ash of her Uncle George. He had smoked for nearly fifty years, and by the end of his life the raspiness of his voice made it painful to hear him speak. Looking through the peephole again, Ash squinted at the still empty walkway.

“Look, I know your kind can be a bit slow on the uptake, but I spoke with Emma and she said this was supposed to be a quick job. Are you going to let me in or not?”

The man was getting increasingly agitated, but the mention of Emma gave Ash enough confidence to crack the door, chain still attached. She looked out and then down. A man barely five feet tall stood in front of her. He was thin with jet black hair, and his blue coveralls seemed to hang off him. “You’re the cleaner?” Ash asked incredulously.

“Yeah. Again, I don’t have all night. Emma said you had a bit of a lycan problem.” He looked expectantly at Ash.

Unhooking the chain, Ash cautiously opened the door. “That’s one way of putting it.” She stepped aside so the short man could come in. “Ah, do you have some ID or something?” Once Ash said it, she realized how stupid it sounded.

The man turned around, and looking up at Ash, smirked. “Really? Do you have very many blokes showing up on your doorstep in the middle of the night to clean up lycan rubbish?” The man could see from Ash’s face she was unconvinced. “Fine.”

Instead of reaching into one of the many pockets in is coverall for a wallet or badge, he closed his eyes, and a split second later bared a set of elongated incisors and piercing brownish-red eyes.

“Oh, shit.” Ash took a step back against the now closed door. “I didn’t realize - I mean I thought -”

The man shrugged, his eyes still glowing. “What, you think we all look like your doctor friend?”

He laughed. “The change can only do so much. You should have seen me when I was human.” The man rocked back and forth on his heels as he whispered. “Let’s just say the ladies were not knocking my door down.”

“I’m sorry.” It was all Ash could think to say.

The man shook his head. “Don’t be. I get plenty of fanny now.”

Ash didn’t want to know the details of that comment. “So, how does this work, ah-”

“Harry.” He smiled.

“Okay, Harry, how does this work?” Ash was trying not to snicker, but a short, empirically unattractive vampire named Harry was not what she was expecting when Emma said she would have someone come over to clean up her apartment.

Harry, whose eyes and teeth had returned to a less disturbing appearance, looked around. “Is this the only room affected?” Ash nodded. “Well, we’ve got a category A, level one situation here, Ash; so I’m going to need about an hour to get the blood, bone, skin and hair out of the carpet and off the ceiling. As things go, not a total tosh - I’ve seen worse.”

“Ceiling? There isn’t-” Before Ash could finish, Harry had pulled a small black light out of his front breast pocket, and held it up toward the ceiling. To Ash’s shock and dismay, small speckles of blood coated the ceiling. It looked like a demented astronomy constellation.

“I - I didn’t even see that.” She backed out from under the mess.

“You have eyes, yet cannot see.” Harry winked at Ash as he put the black light back in his pocket. Ash frowned. “Hey, don’t feel too bad, no human would see that with the naked eye.”

Ash had been around enough crime scenes to know Harry was right. The places blood and tissue could end up were microscopic and even the most seasoned tech needed the aid of Luminol and a black light. “But you could see it?”

“Of course. Vampires have extremely refined eye sight, hearing, touch, taste - the works.” Harry continued to walk around, scanning the room.

“How’s that work, exactly?” Ash’s curiosity was piqued, and she wasn’t at a point yet with Emma to play twenty questions.

“I don’t know the science of it.” Harry bent down, pulled a ballpoint pen out of his pocket, and poked at a spot of particularly dense blood.

“This is all new to me, and I haven’t really had the chance to ask any questions.” She didn’t know this man and the anonymity of that gave her confidence. “How old are you?”

Harry looked up from the blood stain. “Oy - let me do the math.” He looked up toward the ceiling. “I was turned in 1837.” He counted on his fingers. “Yea, that’s right.”

Ash’s eyes widened. “You’re almost two hundred years old?”

“That I am. Older actually. Born in London, England in 1803.” Harry grinned.

Ash sensed the man’s pride over his heritage. “What did you do - before?”

“Chimney sweep. Mind you, this is back during the Industrial Revolution and before regulations around chimney height, air quality and whatnot.” Harry nodded importantly. “It was a dangerous job.”

“I can imagine.” Ash couldn’t imagine. Nothing in her experience gave her context for the conversation she was having. “I notice vampires can walk around in the daylight.”

“Sure. We don’t have nearly the weaknesses humans think we do. But over the centuries having your lot think we’re one thing, and really we’re something else, has served us well.” Harry walked toward the front door.

Ash sensed the man wanted to get to work.  “Sorry for all the questions. I really appreciate you coming over so late.”

“I don’t need to sleep anyways, and I’m always down for a good chin wag.” He opened the door. “I don’t know how you know Emma, but if she told you - or let you live if you found out - then you’re okay in my book. Emma is a good judge of character.” Harry smiled. “I’ll be right back. I need to get my gear from the van.”

“Wait. One more thing Harry. Did you say you don’t sleep?” Ash remembered Emma’s casual comment, while they scrolled through her extensive DVR list, about not sleeping.

“That’s right. No need.” Harry left, and Ash stood in the middle of her blood soaked living room trying to process what was happening. She was trying desperately to cling to some semblance of the world she knew only a day ago, but with each passing minute her reason and common sense were being trampled on.

The front door swung open, and Ash watched as Harry carried several metal canisters in, and what looked like a vacuum cleaner with a large holding tank. “Here, let me help.” Ash made a move to take one of the canisters, but just pulling on it slightly she could tell it was much heavier than Harry’s posturing implied.

“I’ve got it. They’re heavy for you; so let me.” He put the cylinders down and rolled the vacuum further into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. “I actually need you to disappear for a while, miss. Go to another room, or go out, but I work better without an audience.”

Ash nodded. “Sure. I’ll go in my bedroom. Let me know if you need anything.” She turned and quickly walked toward the back of the apartment. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she stared blankly at the wall.

Her shoulders felt like they were made of rocks, and her stomach was cramping from nerves and not eating. She lay back on the bed, but her mind raced instead of providing her with much needed sleep. She could hear Harry moving around, and a low hum of machinery coming from the living room.

There was a faint knock on the bedroom door, and Ash sat up. “Come in.”

It was Emma. She shut the door behind her, but didn’t make a move to come near Ash. “That’s done.”

Ash didn’t want to know the details. In this case, ignorance was bliss. “Is that it then?”

Emma shook her head. “No. Lara is still out there, and presumably desperate for blood at this point. Based on my conversation with Rachel, Ela was ended nearly a week ago.”

“Rachel said you and Coleen should be careful. That Lara would know how to get to you.” Ash tried to sound calm, but the idea of anyone hurting Emma turned her stomach.

Emma smiled, walked toward Ash, kneeling in front of her. “We are pretty good at taking care of ourselves.”

Ash bit her lower lip nervously. “Harry said what we think can hurt you, really can’t.”

Emma nodded and sat down next to Ash. “Yes. Over the centuries we have allowed certain misconceptions to persist. In some cases, we are the origin of the lie.”

Ash understood. “In spite of your strength, you’re outnumbered.”

Emma grinned. “Exactly. Twenty-to-one by some counts.” She looked down. “There have been periods when relations between humans and vampires have not been copacetic.”

Ash thought about one of her American History classes in college, and how horrified she had been learning about the Salem witch trials and subsequent deaths of innocent people. In general people feared what they didn’t understand and could easily become invested in their ignorance. Ash didn’t want to be one of those people. Someone who allowed their opinion to morph into prejudice.

“How old are you?” Ash started with the simplest question she could think of.

Emma’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I was turned in 1862, when I was thirty-three years old.”

Ash exhaled. “I have questions, and I don’t want to hurt you, or upset you. Is it okay if we talk about this?”

Emma looked at Ash for several seconds. Her eyes moving from Ash’s lips to her eyes. “I would like that.”

Ash nodded, and turned so she was facing Emma as they sat on Ash’s bed. “Great. So, 1862. That was during the Civil War.” Emma nodded. “Where are you from?”

“West Virginia.” Emma said plainly.

“Really, I wouldn’t have thought. You’ve completely lost your accent.” Ash smiled.

“Most things fade after a hundred and fifty two years.” Ash instinctively reached for Emma’s hand, but thought better of it. There were still too many unknowns.

Chapter 14

“Are you getting up?” Emma stood over her youngest sister Mary. The child rubbed at her eyes and slowly sat up in her bed. Her long dark hair was tied into loose ringlets with thin cotton cloth strips.

“Em, do I have to?” Mary was ten years old, and getting her out of bed before dawn on a Sunday morning was becoming more and more difficult.

“You don’t have to, but God manages to be here every minute of every day for you. Don’t you think a few hours a week for Him is a fair trade?” Emma pulled the heavy quilts down, exposing the small girl’s legs to the cool morning air.

“Em! It’s cold.” Mary pulled her long night gown down over her legs, reached for the quilt, and tugged at it. Emma held onto it firmly.

“Let’s go. Your mother has made us breakfast.” Emma lifted the quilt up off the bed, and folding it, placed it on the wooden stand next to the door.

Mary was Emma’s half-sister. Her father Henry had remarried after Emma’s mother, Carol, had died while giving birth to her sister Martha nearly twenty years ago.

Emma had been Mary’s age when Carol died. What she remembered most was the silence in the house for months after. Her father had been inconsolable in his loss. A carpenter by trade, after Carol’s death, Henry Atman became more active in the local Methodist church, and eventually was ordained. He now led a congregation of nearly a hundred people in Grafton, Virginia.

Emma walked down the narrow stairs that led from the second floor of the wood framed house to the ground floor. The house was modest, with a single room acting as the dining room and living room on the first floor. The kitchen was a small add-on room near the back of the house, and the second floor consisted of three small rooms parceled off to form the bedroom Emma, as the oldest, had to herself, the bedroom Martha and Mary shared, and the master bedroom. The bathroom was detached from the main house, making treks during the winter particularly harsh.

“Is she up?” Ada Atman asked as she placed a brown clay plate of bread on a wooden rectangular shaped table. Her graying brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck, and she wore a long, plain beige dress covered in a faded blue apron, with pagoda sleeves and a high neck collar. She had just celebrated her forty-ninth birthday, and wore the small pewter brooch Emma had bought her on the collar of her dress.

“That’s up for interpretation.” Emma walked into the kitchen, and picked up a bowl of grits Ada had sitting next to the stove.

“Grab the raisins too, Em.” Ada instructed from the dining room.

Emma picked the small clay bowl up from the counter and carried it along with the grits into the dining room. “Has Father left already?”

Ada nodded. “About an hour ago. We’re to take the Runabout to services.”

“Did Martha go with him?” Emma smiled at the mention of her sister. She was singing at services today, and Emma was so proud of her. She had initially shied away from their father’s suggestion that the singing she did while tending to the chickens, was better suited for a more refined audience.

“She did. Poor thing couldn’t even eat, she was so nervous.” Ada walked toward the foot of the stairs. “Mary Elizabeth Atman, if you’re not down her in one minute, you will be mucking out the horse stalls for the next two weeks.” Ada wiped loose flour from her apron. “That child will be the death of me.”

Emma sat down at the table, and served up three plates. As she was spooning the last of the grits onto Mary’s plate, the young girl came bounding down the stairs. “I’m up!” She jumped over the last step, and ran to the table where she dramatically flung herself into one of the thin wooden chairs.

Ada took her apron off, and hanging it on the metal hook just inside the kitchen doorway, joined Emma and Mary at the table. She bowed her head. “Well, for that and other blessings, let us give thanks.” She smiled at her daughter as the three females joined hands. “Bless us, oh Lord, and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty. Amen.”

“Amen.” Emma lifted her head, picked up her spoon, and stirred the steaming bowl of grits. “Mary, did you finish your primer Miss Calvin assigned?”

The girl was chewing a spoon full of raisins as her eyes widened. “How do you know about that?” She covered her mouth after a rogue raisin popped out.

Emma smiled. “Miss Calvin and I spoke last week, and she said you haven’t been turning in your assignments. She gave me a list of what would be due for the next three weeks.”

Mary looked at her mother, and then back at her half-sister. “I - I left my book at school.”

Emma shook her head. The twenty-two year age difference between her and Mary had caused their relationship to become more of a mother daughter dynamic over the years. A role Ada was comfortable with and Emma enjoyed. “Then we’ll need to go by the school on the way home from services and get your book. You best hope Miss Calvin is willing to open the building up for you.”

Rebecca Calvin had relocated to Grafton with her parents and brother over a year ago. The family was originally from Richmond, but recent strains on the economy because of the threat of succession had forced William Calvin and family to move to Grafton and take up residence with his older, spinster sister Helen.

Grafton had seen a tremendous amount of growth in the past ten years as a result of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, which had merged a number of branch lines off the railroad's mainline and through Grafton. Shortly after Mary had been born, there had been less than two hundred people who called Grafton home. Now, nearly seven hundred residents occupied the Tygart Valley River town.

William Calvin was a carpenter by trade, and the town’s counsel had managed to raise enough funds for him to build a small schoolhouse near the far north end of town. Rebecca had agreed to take a modest annual stipend to teach the thirty children whose parents saw fit to send them to school.

Even with an abridged school year to account for the planting and harvesting seasons, most parents didn’t see any value in their children receiving a formal education. This was especially true for the girls, who it was assumed would marry in their early teens and bear children.

Henry Atman, on the other hand, had insisted all his children learn to read and write. Emma didn’t have the benefits of a formal schooling, but Henry had spent countless hours with her and Martha teaching them reading, writing and arithmetic. Emma had a natural curiosity for how the world worked, and would pull the trunk from under her father and Ada’s bed out regularly, in order to read and re-read the books stored inside.

“Can’t you go get the book, Em?” Mary smiled broadly. “Miss Calvin likes you better anyway.”

Emma shook her head. “She likes you too, Mary, but you have to apply yourself.”

Ada reached for her daughter’s hand. “You’ll ask your teacher after services to retrieve your book, and then you won’t forget again ,Mary. Am I clear?”

Mary nodded. “Yes, momma.” The dark haired girl stuck out her lower lip, and began squeezing one of the raisins between her thumb and forefinger.

“Playing with your food is a good way to ensure you’ll go to bed hungry tonight young lady.” Ada took a bite of grits as she glared at the girl.

Mary dropped the raisin. “May I be excused?”

“Where do you plan on going? We’re leaving for services in a few minutes.” Ada asked, her eyebrow raised.

Mary waved her hand in the air dismissively. “Around.”

Emma and Ada both had to stifle a laugh at the young girl’s flippantness. “Around, you say?” Emma asked.

“Around.” Mary nodded.

“You can be around this table with Emma and me, and then you can be around the family at services.” Ada tried to sound firm, but her tone teetered on amused.

Mary shrugged, and sank lower into her seat. Emma couldn’t remember how she was at that age, but according to her father, she was every bit as precocious as Mary. The three finished breakfast at a little past seven, and began cleaning the plates and pans.

Once finished, Emma hitched Red, a ten year old chestnut colored quarter horse, to the Runabout, and the three climbed onto the buggy. Emma and Ada sat on the ends of the narrow black bench, while Mary was safely wedged between them. Ada steered the buggy along the narrow dirt and rock path lined with pine and spruce trees.

The Methodist church was a fifteen minute ride from their house, and looking down at Mary, Emma could already see the child was dozing off. She put her arm around the small girl, who turned her shoulder toward Emma, and cuddled into her side.

Rounding a bend in the road, the church came into view. Nestled among a cluster of pine trees, Grafton Methodist Church was a simple, single room structure. Its wood siding had been painted white with black trim around the four windows that lined either side of the church. A modest iron cross sat atop a slight gable over the front entrance to the building.

Families were making their way into the sanctuary as Emma, Ada and Mary pulled the buggy to a stop in front of a wooden fence post. The three disembarked from the Runabout, and Emma tied Red to the post. “Mary, you best be awake for your father’s sermon this morning.” Ada took the yawning girl’s hand.

“I will, momma.” Mary rubbed at her eyes as Emma gently patted her back.

“Mrs. Atman, Emma, how are you this morning?” Rebecca Calvin was standing next to her brother Seth. The two were two years apart in age, and both were tall with light blonde hair that, when the sun hit it, had hints of red.

An immediate smile came to Emma’s lips. “We are well, Rebecca, and you?”

Rebecca returned Emma’s smile. “It’s a beautiful morning, so I can’t complain.”

“Rebecca, is your mother here this morning? I would like to talk with her about the women’s auxiliary.” Ada interjected.

“She is, Mrs. Atman. She is around here somewhere.” Rebecca looked down at Mary. “And how are you, Mary?”

Mary held tightly to Emma’s hand. “I’m okay.”

Rebecca looked at Emma, her brow furrowed. Emma shook her head at the child. “She’s had a rough morning. One of her making, I might add.” Emma nudged Mary. “Go ahead.”

Mary sighed. “Miss Calvin, I forgot my primer at the school. Can I-” Mary hesitated as Emma gently squeezed her hand. “I mean, if you wouldn’t mind, can you please let me get the book after services?”

Rebecca looked at Emma and smirked. “I think I can manage that, Mary.”

“Thank you, Miss Calvin.” Mary smiled, and pulling away from Emma, skipped toward the church. “Come on, momma, I want to get a seat up front.”

Ada shook her head. “Now she’s in a hurry.” The woman followed the young girl through the front entrance of the building.

“You look lovely this morning, Emma.” Seth Calvin was over six feet tall. Years of working with his father had given him broad, muscular shoulders. His jaw was angular, and his lips full with a slight pink tint to them. He was by far, one of the more eligible bachelors in the town, and it was obvious to everyone that his affections were set on Emma.

“Well, thank you Seth. You’re looking rather dapper this morning yourself.” Emma smiled.

“Seth, I’m ready.” Near the front of the church, Nan Calvin called for her son. She was a short, thin woman, wrapped in a gray shawl.

Seth rolled his eyes. “Coming, mother.” He smiled at Emma, and walked quickly toward the woman.

“Where’s your father today?” Emma asked Rebecca.

“He’s under the weather.” Rebecca looked down.

Emma knew that look. William Calvin was a good husband, father and provider, but it was common knowledge that he liked to over indulge in the spirits from time to time. “I hope he feels better.” Emma reached for Rebecca’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

Rebecca and Emma had become fast friends in the year they had known each other. Emma had found herself immediately drawn to the woman’s intelligence and kindness. It was only recently that she had also began to notice the beautiful green of Rebecca’s eyes, and the fullness of her lips.

“Seth is very taken with you.” Rebecca grinned as she entwined her fingers with Emma’s

Emma shook her head, and looked down at Rebecca’s long, slender fingers. “Your brother has many fine qualities. Subtlety is not one of them.”

Rebecca laughed and the sound warmed Emma’s heart. “He wants me to inquire as to your intentions towards him.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “I have none.”

Rebecca frowned. “But you said yourself, he has many fine qualities.”

“Yes, but I don’t love him.” Emma knew she could never love Seth, and any affection she had for him were rooted in how much he reminded her of Rebecca.

Rebecca leaned toward Emma and lowered her voice. “But you are in love?”

Emma stepped back, the nearness of Rebecca becoming too much. “I am not.” She forced a shocked tone, but felt she had failed to convince her friend.

“You don’t fool me, Emma Winifred Atman. You have that look.” Rebecca looped her arm through Emma’s.

“I have no such look.” Emma allowed Rebecca to pull her toward the church. “Besides, how would you know that look?”

Rebecca stopped, and looked intently at Emma. “I’m not naïve, Emma.”

Emma wanted to ask Rebecca who she had loved. What man had been stupid enough to not return her affections tenfold? Instead, Emma leaned into Rebecca, and the two women walked into the church.

***

“Greed poisons men's souls, and when that greed is nurtured with the blood of another human being, it becomes a disease.” Henry Atman stood behind a narrow wood podium. His left hand rested on the corner of the podium, while he gestured with his right. “We think too much and feel too little, brothers and sisters. Where is the humanity endowed by our Lord?” He scanned the crowd. “For without it, our Union will not survive if the success of a few is built upon the misery of the many.”

Emma had heard her father practicing his sermon the night before, but it was always more moving when he fully emoted and allowed his deep baritone voice to rise and fall. Her father made no secret of his disdain for slavery, or his support of the northwest counties of Virginia, which were refusing to secede should Virginia ratify its membership in the Confederacy.

“No man shall be another’s master, for we are all God’s children. Created equal in the eyes of God.” Henry’s voice grew louder as he neared the end of the sermon. He pointed to the rows of people. “You have a moral obligation to stand up for what is right, what is just, what is necessary to ensure the survival of the Union and the liberation of a people.”

Emma felt tears forming in her eyes. She was proud of her father and how he had held fast to his beliefs, even when he had been threatened with physical harm, and had lost a third of his congregation.

She looked across the aisle at Rebecca, who sat between her mother and brother. Her eyes were also filled with tears as she held her brother’s hand. Emma knew she loved Rebecca. She didn’t know what that meant for either of them, but she wanted Rebecca in her life as something more than a friend. The realization brought a fresh wave of tears to Emma’s eyes.

“Pray with me, brothers and sisters.” Henry’s voice quieted as he bowed his head. In unison, the hundred people listening intently, bowed theirs. “God our Father, the qualities we see lived out so well in some people are a reflection of your own goodness. We know we have much to learn from other people who reflect your image and likeness in different ways. Inspire us to respect others fully as our equals, seeing and loving in them what you see and love in them. Amen.”

Henry turned to his middle child Martha, who sat at the end of the front pew. She sat perfectly still, her light brown hair pulled back in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. “My daughter Martha will be singing, Eternal Father, Strong to Save. Please rise.”

Martha stood and nervously smoothed out the full skirt of her dark brown dress. Stepping to the front of the altar, she turned to face the congregation. Emma could see from the redness of her cheeks and the wringing of her hands that her sister was nervous. Martha looked at Emma, who sat two rows back. Emma smiled, nodded, and mouthed, You can do it.

Martha managed a weak smile, took a deep breath and began singing in a pitch perfect soprano. “Eternal Father, strong to save, whose arm hath bound the restless wave…”

Emma watched with amazement and pride as her younger sister’s voice filled the space of the church. Looking at her father, his eyes full of wonder and delight, she could see the pride radiating from him. Martha’s eyes scanned the crowd, and rested on David Reynolds, a dark haired man with a slight build.

David and Martha had been courting for nearly six months, and it was common knowledge the two planned on marrying as soon as David, who was a clerk in the local grocery, had saved enough money.

“Is it wrong that I should be married before my older sister?” Martha had asked nervously of Emma when she and David had first begun talking about marriage.

Emma put down the dish towel she had been drying the dinner plates with, and turned to face her sister. “That’s backwards thinking, Martha. What difference should my marital status make to you and David?”

Martha took Emma’s damp hands in hers. “They say if I marry first, it means fewer suitors will be interested in courting you.”

Emma shook her head. “I do wish you wouldn’t listen so intently to the town gossips.” She put her hand on Martha’s cheek. “Sister, there is nothing bad that can come from your happiness.”

Martha pulled Emma to her. “Thank you, sister!”

“…thus evermore shall rise to Thee, glad hymns of praise from land and sea.” Martha held the final note, and then gradually her voice faded. Smiling nervously, she hurried to her seat.

Henry walked to the podium, a smile covering his elated face. Turning several sheets of paper over, he cleared his throat. “Bow your heads. Lord, we pray not for tranquility, nor that our tribulations may cease. We pray for thy spirit and love. That thou grant us strength and grace to overcome adversity. Amen.”

Henry raised his head, looked at his wife who sat with Mary on her lap, and smiled. “This concludes our services today. The ladies’ auxiliary has provided punch and cookies in the rectory.”

Emma inched her way out of the pew. Martha’s arm was immediately looped through hers. “Truthfully, I don’t think I have ever been so nervous in my entire life, Em.” Martha’s cheeks were still flush.

“You were wonderful.” Emma leaned in and kissed her sister’s cheek. “I think Father was about to burst with pride.”

Several other parishioners came up to Martha, congratulating her and expressing hope she would be singing at future services. Emma gradually pulled away, allowing Martha to linger and enjoy the well-deserved accolades.

Leaving the church, Emma turned and crossed the small lawn leading to the rectory. Built within the last year, the building was larger than the church itself, and had windows lining either side with black shutters framing each. A steady line of people made their way into the building.

“Emma, do you want to come with me to get Mary’s primer?” Rebecca was suddenly standing next to Emma.

“I think Ada wanted Mary to be responsible for retrieving it.” Emma wanted nothing more than to be alone with Rebecca. They rarely had time to themselves as they frequently met at church socials, or other group events.

Rebecca frowned. “Honestly, I was hoping for a minute alone with you. I need to talk to you about a rather pressing matter.”

A rush of heat ran through Emma, and she knew her cheeks burned red with it. “Okay. After all, odds are Mary will need to retrieve her forgotten primer at some future date as well.”

“Low expectations. I like that about you.” Rebecca teased.

Rebecca and Emma walked the quarter mile to the log cabin style building that housed the Grafton school. Given the limited resources, multiple grades utilized the building, and it wasn’t uncommon for Rebecca to be teaching children as young as seven with ones as old as fourteen.

Walking along the wood planked floor, the heels of Emma’s boots sounded hollow in the empty space. “What do you want to talk about?” She managed to speak past the lump in her throat.

Rebecca closed the door, and quickly lit the lamp hanging on the wall nearest her. The dimly lit room took on a yellowish hue as the lamp illuminated the space.

Blowing the match out, Rebecca crossed the room to stand in front of Emma. “You have to promise you won’t say anything.” Emma managed a slight nod. “Thomas Canter and I are to be married.”

Emma felt the bottom of her stomach turn, and the flush of heat she had experienced earlier was like a furnace burning at the base of her neck. She leaned back, and managed to sit in one of the small wooden desks before her legs gave out.

Rebecca frowned, and knelt in front of Emma. “What is it? Do you not approve of Thomas?” The worried woman took Emma’s shaking hands.

Swallowing several times before she could speak, Emma shook her head. “No. Thomas is a fine man. I’m just surprised. You don’t speak of him often.”

In truth, Rebecca hadn’t spoken of any man more or less than another. Thomas Canter was one of two blacksmiths in the town, and was by most accounts a respectable and honest business man. The fact he was nearly twenty years Rebecca’s senior only made the choice more perplexing to Emma.

“He thinks he is too old for me, and that people will judge us.” Rebecca slid into the desk next to Emma. “I told him it doesn’t matter what people think. My parents approve, and that’s all that matters.” She rested her chin on her palm.

“Do you love him, Rebecca?” Emma needed to know if this was a marriage of convenience or if Rebecca truly had feelings for Thomas. She knew the outcome was the same regardless, but some part of her would take comfort if Rebecca’s heart was still not claimed.

Surprised by the question, Rebecca chewed nervously on her lower lip. “I’m very fond of him, and in time I know I will grow to love him.”

Emma exhaled. “Why marry someone if you don’t love them?” Rebecca seemed confused by the comment. “What I mean Rebecca, is if your parents aren’t forcing you, and there are no other reasons -” Emma stopped when she saw the guilt flash across Rebecca’s eyes. Her eyes quickly moved from her piercing green eyes, to her tapered midsection. “Oh. There are other reasons.”

Rebecca’s eyes filled with tears. “Please don’t hate me.” She grabbed Emma’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “I - we started talking when I would go in to get nails for father, and after several months we -” Tears streamed down the woman’s face.

Seeing the fear and sadness in Rebecca’s eyes, Emma couldn’t be angry with her. The love she felt for Rebecca didn’t simply disappear, and the truth was she knew she had to let Rebecca go. Not that she was ever hers to begin with, but her friend needed her, and Emma wouldn’t allow her own disappointment get in the way of comforting a woman she both loved and valued.

“I don’t hate you.” Emma put her hand on the other woman’s cheek. “I’m glad you’ve found someone you care for, and want a life with.”

Through tears, Rebecca managed a smile as she covered Emma’s hand with hers. “Thank you.” She stood and wiped at her face. “We’re going to have a small ceremony next week, and Thomas says he can close the shop for a few days and take me to Bridgeport.” She walked toward the short bookcase at the front of the room.

“That soon?” Emma winced at the harshness of her tone. “I mean, that’s hardly any time to plan a proper wedding.”

Rebecca looked down, and put her hand over her flat stomach. “We don’t have too much time before I -” She looked up at Emma, her eyes pleading.

Taking mercy on her friend, Emma smiled. “Why wait then?”

Rebecca pulled a thin cloth bound book from the bookcase, and walked toward Emma. “Thank you. You’re a good friend.” She leaned toward Emma and placed a quick kiss on the woman’s cheek.

Her head spinning from Rebecca’s revelation and her proximity, Emma took several deep breaths to steady herself, and then she sacrificed her feelings for Rebecca’s. “I’m very happy for the two of you.”

***

It had been nearly seven months since Rebecca had confided her secret to Emma. In that time, the War Between the States had begun in earnest. True to his word, Henry Atman had campaigned from his pulpit against Virginia’s secession from the Union. When that failed, he attended countless meetings in support of counties in the northwestern region of Virginia seceding from the now Confederate State of Virginia.

Henry was gone at a constitution ratification convention for the newly formed state of West Virginia, when Emma received word from Seth Calvin that Rebecca had gone into labor. She had married Thomas Canter, and though rumors always abound in small towns, most people didn’t question the explanation that Rebecca was with child as a result of the couple’s honeymoon in Bridgeport.

Emma climbed into Seth’s flatbed wagon. She was more educated than most in Grafton, and as a result had become a de facto midwife. “How long has she been in labor?”

Seth looked pale. “About an hour. It came on very quickly.”

Emma chewed nervously on the inside of her cheek. “First births are often the hardest, and I’m sure Rebecca is scared because she doesn’t know what exactly to expect.”

Seth held the reins firmly in his hands. “I guess, but there’s already blood.”

Emma frowned. “Her water broke that quickly?”

Seth shrugged. “All I know is she was washing the morning dishes, and then she was on the floor.”

“Seth, go faster.” Emma reached for the metal rail in front of her to steady herself against the jostling of the wagon. Within ten minutes, they were pulling up in front of the Calvin’s house. It was a single story log cabin home, with a wood porch that wrapped around the length of the house.

Emma climbed down from the wagon before Seth could come around to assist her. Even from outside the house, Rebecca’s screams of pain cut through Emma. Rushing across the small lawn, up onto the porch, through the front door, and into Rebecca’s room, Emma stopped suddenly. Her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the interior of the home, and she saw her friend lying on a small straw mattress. Nan Calvin was sitting on a chair to her daughter’s side, and Thomas was kneeling next to the bed, holding his wife’s hand.

His weathered face was distorted with anxiety and confusion as he looked up at Emma. “We had come over for breakfast, and she was fine.” He cringed as Rebecca screamed.

Sweat rolled down her forehead as quickly as Nan could blot it away with a cloth. Both dry and fresh blood stained the thin cotton sheets, and Rebecca’s skirt. Emma could only see what needed to be done, rolled up her sleeves, and refused to give into the panic pushing at the back of her throat. “I need hot - not boiling - water.” She opened the small leather bag she was carrying, and took a pair of scissors and a scalpel out. “And all the cloth you can find.” She looked at Thomas. “Tear it into strips.” Emma held her hands up. “Three inches wide and no less than twelve inches long. Do you understand Thomas?”

The man nodded, and then hesitantly pulled his hand from his wife’s. Emma pulled a chair from the corner of the room, and placed it at the foot of the bed. “Rebecca, it’s Emma. I’m going to move your dress out of the way.”

Rebecca’s head rolled back and forth listlessly, her skin had taken on a pale, grayish tone. Emma pushed the layered skirts back, and covered her mouth to stifle the gasp. The blood had pooled under Rebecca and, having saturated the mattress, stood nearly an inch deep. Emma stood up, and grabbed the thick quilt hanging on a wall rail. She rolled it into a cylinder and wedged it under Rebecca’s backside so she was lifted out of the blood.

Thomas rushed back in the room along with Seth. Both men’s arms full of torn strips of cloth. “Water is on the stove.” Seth said through clenched teeth as Rebecca let out another cry.

“Count off ten strips.” Emma instructed Seth. She turned to Rebecca. Sliding two fingers into the source of the bleeding, Emma made a quick assessment of the situation. “The baby is backwards, that’s why she’s in so much pain.” Emma leaned forward. “I have to turn the baby around, and then she can start pushing.”

Emma took a deep breath. “Rebecca, this is going to hurt. Thomas take her hand, and put one of the cloths in her mouth or she could bite her tongue off.” Thomas handed all but one of the cloth strips to Seth, folded the remaining one into a square, and placed it between Rebecca’s teeth.

Nan continued to wipe the sweat from her daughter’s forehead and throat. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.”

Using her right hand, Emma managed to turn the baby around, until she was confident its head was face forward. To her dismay, she could feel the umbilical cord pulling at the baby’s neck. Knowing there was nothing to be done about that, Emma removed her hand, and looked up at Rebecca, who was red as she screamed into the cloth lodged in her mouth.

“Push, Rebecca.” Emma knew the odds of the baby surviving were very low, and if she didn’t get the baby out of her friend quickly, Rebecca would bleed to death. “Push.”

Rebecca’s eyes were bloodshot and tears ran down her face as she looked up at Emma. Slamming her eyes shut, she lifted her shoulders up and pushed. The crown of the baby’s head was visible, and Emma was hopeful with one more push, the baby would be free. “One more time. Push.”

Rebecca’s scream was muffled through the cloth in her mouth. She pulled on Thomas’ hand as she brought her shoulders up off the bed. Emma took the baby’s head in her hands, and reaching for the scissors that lie next to her, quickly cut the cord that was wrapped around the baby’s neck. This allowed the child to be pushed free of Rebecca.

“Nan, come here.” Emma laid the small baby on the mattress in front of her and sticking her pinky finger into his mouth, swiped at the thick liquid blocking his airway. Lifting him up off the bed, Emma held him upside down by his ankles and quickly struck his back between the shoulder blades. The limp baby suddenly jerked, and let out a deafening cry.

“Take him, wrap him in a blanket and then gently rock him while squeezing him.” Emma could tell the woman was horrified by the suggestion of squeezing her grandson. “It will make sure his heart doesn’t stop.” Nan nodded, and took the baby.

Emma turned her attention back to Rebecca. “Seth, the ten strips.” The tall man was next to her immediately, handing her one strip at a time. Emma quickly inserted them into Rebecca in an effort to stem the flow of blood coming from the woman. “She’s hemorrhaging.” Emma looked up at a confused Thomas. “She’s bleeding too much, and I can’t stop it.”

Even with the ten cloth strips, Rebecca continued to bleed. Emma looked up at her friend, whose once full, pink lips were now a pale blue. “Rebecca, I-” Emma’s eyes filled with tears as she looked helplessly at the woman she loved slipping away. The vibrant green eyes began to fade until Rebecca was gone.

The weight of her grief bore down on Emma’s heart, forcing a strangled cry from her lips. She was only partially aware of Seth’s arms around her as she leaned back against his broad chest. Sobs filled the room as Thomas pulled his dead wife into his arms. Emma felt her heart shedding its hope, life and love as the realization that Rebecca was dead pushed into her.

Pulling away from Seth, Emma got to her feet. She stood staring at the dead woman, sobs racking her body. Emma looked at her hands, still covered in blood, and clenched her fists so tightly her finger nails pierced the skin, mingling her blood with Rebecca’s. Turning, Emma walked toward the front door, a numbness consuming her.

The finality of it was too much for Emma to bear. She sank down on the steps of the porch, and clung to the wooden post. Looking up at the sky, she realized it was still morning. The air seemed thin and sterile, and all of the nothingness death promises had come to be in a matter of minutes. The darkening of Rebecca had happened in seconds.

Chapter 15

Emma leaned against the dirt wall of the trench, bullets flying overhead. She was crouched on her heels, leaning over a young, dark haired Union soldier, in a futile attempt to keep dirt and debris out of an open gunshot wound along his right side. She had volunteered to be a field nurse four months prior. Desperate to find something meaningful beyond the depression Rebecca’s death had caused, she had left Grafton against her father’s wishes and joined the Union Army of the Potomac.

“I can fight for my ideals the same as any man.” Emma had argued with Henry after announcing at dinner her intention to leave home.

“You can stand up for those ideals, Emma, without putting your life in danger.” Henry had taken a drink of water as he looked from his daughter to Ada. “Will you say something?”

Ada reached across the table and took Emma’s hand. “I know you are still struggling with Rebecca’s death, and that you blame yourself.”

Emma shook her head. “This has nothing to do with that. There’s a need for nurses, I have those skills, and want to help.” She pulled her hand away from Ada and leveled her gaze on Henry. “If I were your son, this wouldn’t be an issue.”

Henry nodded. “Fine then. Since you are not my son, I forbid it.”

Emma wished Martha was there. She and David Reynolds had married a month prior before he enlisted with the Union Army, and moved in with David’s mother. Martha would not want her in harm’s way, but would defend her decision to be a part of a movement their family had supported for years.

“For all your talk of equality, I guess you never thought it extended beyond the color of one’s skin to their gender?” Emma practically spat the words at Henry.

The man’s face reddened as he looked over at Mary. “Mary, please go to your room.”

“But Father, I want -” The girl sat enthralled by the conversation.

“Mary. Now!” Henry barked. The young girl quickly got up and left the room. Henry turned his attention back on Emma. “Now you listen to me. I am your father, and as long as you’re living under my roof, you will honor me.”

Emma leaned back in her chair. Her nostrils flared as a surge of adrenaline coursed through her. “Then you have offered up our solution, Father.” She pushed her chair away from the table, its wooden legs scraping against the floor. “I will no longer live under your roof.” She turned and walked toward the stairs, leaving both Henry and Ada speechless and slack jawed.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Emma felt her knees buckle. She had never defied her father in such a way before. They had never so fundamentally disagreed on a course of action like this before. Standing up, Emma walked down the short hall toward her bedroom.

“Are you leaving, Em?” Mary’s small voice came from her darkened room.

Emma stopped, and walked to the doorway of the small bedroom. “I’m going to stay with Martha, and then yes. I’ll be gone for a while.”

Mary was sitting in a short wooden chair next to a table she used as a desk, and drawing board. “Can I come with you?”

Emma walked across the room, and knelt next to Mary. “No, dear heart. Your mother and father need you.”

“Don’t you need me?” The girl’s eyes were wide as they filled with tears.

Emma pulled Mary to her, and hugged her. “Of course I do.” She moved Mary back so she could see her eyes. “I love you.”

Mary smiled. “I love you too.”

Since leaving Grafton, Emma had sent Mary countless letters, but with the supply lines constantly being cut off, she couldn’t be certain any had reached the child. She had managed to abate her anger with her father enough to send him a letter as well. That was over a month ago, and there had been no reply.

“We have to move this man now, Sergeant!” Emma shouted over the noise of nearby cannons.

Sergeant Wilson was a short man in his late thirties. He had an overgrown mustache and his face was pock marked from what Emma had been told was a severe case of chicken pox as a child. “They’re moving through too quickly. Just stay down!”

The Confederate Army of Northern Virginia had begun a major offensive through the Strasburg, Virginia area before dawn that morning. Emma, along with other non-military personnel, had been caught in the middle of the advance. Initially told to move through the trenches and adjacent fields until she could reach the back of the line, Emma had opted instead to lend aid to the injured until the runners could retrieve them and move them back to the field hospital.

“I’m moving him, Sergeant.” Emma looked around for a runner.

“You can try, nurse, but he’s got a good fifty pounds on you.” Wilson’s smile was smug.

Emma had never cared for the man. He was lazy, and she had caught him on more than one occasion staring at her in a suggestive manner. “You could help,” she yelled.

“I follow orders, and they told me to stay right -” A piercing boom tore through the trench as dirt and rock flew in every direction. Emma felt something akin to a brick wall hit her full on. Landing on her back, her ears were ringing and she couldn’t catch her breath. After a few seconds, she managed to sit up, a wave of nausea shooting through her.

Looking around Emma could see Wilson was dead. The cannon ball had landed just behind him, and propelling him forward onto the young soldier. Blood, muscle and bone were strewed about with the rocks. Smoke burned Emma’s eyes as she tried to assess her own injuries. Finding nothing more than a few cuts and bruises, she crawled toward the soldier.

Looking back and forth along the length of the trench, she couldn’t see anyone. Then a wave of smoke cascaded over the rim of the trench, and walking through it, Emma could see a tall, dark haired man in a Union uniform. “Soldier! Over here!” Emma got to her knees, and waved the man over.

Without crouching, the man confidently made his way toward Emma. As he approached, Emma gasped. His face was black with soot, making his eyes appear to glow an iridescent blue. “Ma’am?”

Emma managed to gather her senses long enough to remember what needed to be done. “Sergeant Wilson is dead, but the man under him isn’t. I need your help getting him back to the field hospital.”

The tall soldier looked over Emma’s shoulder at the man. “Yes, ma’am.” Stepping around Emma, the man easily pushed what remained of Wilson to the side, and effortlessly hoisted the limp soldier over his right shoulder. “Follow me.”

Emma got to her feet and grabbed the man’s belt loop, worried she would lose him in the smoke and confusion. Keeping her head down, she followed the man through several hundred yards of trenches, and then up onto a sprawling pasture littered with dead bodies.

“My God.” Emma looked around her. The waist high grass of the pasture was broken and bent under the weight of countless corpses. She struggled not to step on them as she was pulled along by the nameless man in front of her.

The cruelty and carnage that surrounded Emma took her breath away. Men lay on top of one another. The dead were suffocating the living. Moans and cries of pain could be heard above the now distant cannon fire. Without realizing it, she had stopped walking. “Ma’am. We need to keep moving.”

Emma looked up at the soldier, who stood covered in dirt and blood. “Of course.” She was confident she could release the man’s belt loop without losing him at this point. If her bearings were right, they were only a few hundred yards from the field hospital. Approaching a line of trees that divided one pasture into another, the soldier stopped, and quickly put the unconscious man down. “Lay flat on the ground, and don’t move.”

Getting on her knees, she looked up to find the space the man had occupied empty. Scanning the tree line, she couldn’t see anything as she laid on her stomach. After a few minutes, a large dirt encrusted boot stepped inches to the right of Emma’s head. She clenched her jaw, trying to lay still. A cold hand grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet. “It’s clear. Let’s go.”

Emma was relieved to see the soldier, but confused by the fresh blood that surrounded his mouth, and ran down the front of his throat. “Are you injured?” Emma reached for the man instinctively.

Turning away from her, he retrieved the other soldier off the ground, and began walking toward the tree line. “We need to move. It’s not much further.”

Not wanting to linger in the exposed field, Emma quickly followed the man into the tree line. After a hundred yards, they broke into another clearing, and Emma breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the three canvas tents that made up the field hospital. There were soldiers and doctors rushing back and forth as Emma looked around for Doctor Anderson. He was one of the more competent and helpful doctors she had met.

Unlike some of the male doctors who viewed the nurse’s role as more of a servant than a partner, Anderson was keen to share his knowledge with Emma, and allowed her access to the few medical journals and books he had access to.

“Ma’am, I’ll take him over to that tent, but then I have to get back.” The man looked down at the ground.

Emma reached up, and lay her hand on the man’s cheek, trying to determine where the blood on his face had come from. In spite of the humid conditions, and the effort of carrying another man nearly a half mile, the man’s skin was cool to the touch. “What’s your name?”

The most intense blue eyes Emma had ever seen looked up at her. “Thomas. Corporal Lewis Thomas, first West Virginia Volunteer infantry.”

Emma was speechless. Even covered in mud and blood, the man was beyond handsome. He was beautiful. Surprised that word came to her mind regarding a man, Emma took a step back. “Thank you for - for saving our lives.” She managed a smile.

Lewis nodded, and then walked toward the nearest tent with the limp soldier over his shoulder. “Emma! Emma, over here. We need your help.” Emma was pulled back into her harsh reality by Doctor Anderson’s voice.

Turning to see where the man was, she found him bent over an elevated wooden table, and rushed over. Laid across the table was a boy no more than fourteen years old. His hand was severed and the remaining appendage was bleeding badly. “His damn rifle backfired and blew off in his hand.” Anderson said through gritted teeth.

The right side of the boy’s face was burnt badly, and blood dripped from his ear. Emma reached for a pile of rags near the table, and began wrapping what was left of the boy’s forearm while Anderson attempted to clean the burns on his face. Emma finished with the tourniquet style bandage and grabbed an empty ammo box from under the table. Standing it on end, she propped the boy’s arm up to slow the bleeding.

“Watch that. Leave it on too long and he’ll lose the entire arm.” Anderson didn’t look up from his work.

Emma considered the doctor for a second, his thick brown hair matted to his forehead with sweat and dirt. She knew the application of the tourniquet followed by periodic loosening of the wrapping was common practice. The intent was to avoid circulation being cut off for extended periods of time, but what Emma had witnessed was the sudden rush of blood back into the wound frequently caused the patient to go into shock, or worse to slowly bleed to death with each release of the bandage.

“Doctor, it’s been my experience that can cause more harm than it helps.” Emma made direct contact with the doctor as he looked up.

There was a slight twitch in the doctor’s left cheek. “Explain.”

Relieved Anderson didn’t immediately dismiss her, she continued. “Preventing arterial blood flow to a limb for longer than two hours can result in ischemia, and death of the surrounding tissue. But periodic loosening of the tourniquet, in an attempt to reduce limb ischemia, can often led to incremental blood loss and death.”

Without looking up at Emma, Anderson grinned. “Then it sounds like you just volunteered to take that off him in two hours.”

“Yes doctor.” Emma couldn’t stop her smile as she turned to see where else her help was needed. Stepping back from the table, she ran into a woman she hadn’t realized was standing right behind her. Her hair was a long, thick brown-auburn mane loosely tied back in a braid.  Emma then noticed her eyes.  They were an iridescent blue, like Lewis’, and like the man, this woman was beautiful. “I’m sorry, excuse me.” Emma nervously stepped around the woman.

“There’s no need to apologize. It was entirely my fault.” The woman’s voice was smooth, with a melodic mezzo-soprano tone. She wore a pair of blue men’s trousers cinched at the waist with a leather belt, and tucked into a pair of mud caked boots. The top three buttons of her tan shirt were open, revealing smooth, pale skin underneath.

Emma knew nurses who wore trousers. She had a pair herself, and she frequently wore them on days the field hospital was being taken down, moved, and reassembled.

Emma smiled and reached out her hand. “I’m Emma Atman. I didn’t realize we were getting a new nurse.”

Without breaking eye contact, the woman took Emma’s hand between both of hers. Her skin was unusually cool, and smooth. “Coleen Andrade, and I’m not a nurse.” Coleen looked at the man lying on the table. “I don’t have the stomach for it.” She grinned.

“I’m sorry, I assumed.” Emma felt heat rise to her face with the intensity of the woman’s stare.

Coleen released Emma’s hand. “I’m a federal intelligence operative.” She looked around. “I suppose it’s safe enough in the middle of a Union camp to disclose that to you.” She stepped closer to Emma, and lowered her voice. “Can I trust you, Emma?”

Coleen smelled like jasmine, and Emma was struggling to focus on the conversation. “I - I’ve heard there were women operatives, I just never thought I would meet one.”

Coleen looked at Emma’s mouth, and suggestively ran her tongue along her bottom lip before speaking. “Well, here I am. In the flesh you might say.”

The woman seemed forward to the point of being inappropriate. Emma was inclined to forgive her the indiscretion because she couldn’t pretend to know the complexities of this beautiful stranger’s life. “I would love to talk with you. About what you’re doing, I mean.” Emma stammered, irritated Coleen was making her so nervous.

Putting her arm around Emma’s shoulder, Coleen nodded toward Doctor Anderson. “When you’re done with this, come see me. I’ve taken a tent near the northern corner of the camp.” Not waiting for Emma’s response, the woman turned and left the medical tent.

Emma swallowed, and took several cleansing breaths. She wasn’t certain she liked this woman, but she was certainly curious.

***

As Emma walked across the camp, the rain began to fall. She had finished her duties at the field hospital, and couldn’t abate her curiosity about Coleen any longer. Approaching the tent, she was surprised to see Corporal Thomas exiting. Unlike when they had last met, the Corporal’s face had been washed clean of the dirt and blood. Emma still marveled at his attractiveness, and the intensity of his eyes.

“Corporal Thomas?” Emma called after the man as he was walking away from Coleen’s tent.

The man turned, and immediately smiled. “Ms. Atman, I’m glad to see you are doing well.”

Emma blushed at the man’s attention, and immediately felt silly for it. “Thank you. How are you?”

Lewis nodded, and looked over Emma’s shoulders. “I’m good. We’re getting ready to head out on patrol.”

Emma looked at the tent. “How do you know Coleen?”

Lewis hesitated, and then cleared his throat. “She’s my cousin.”

Emma wasn’t sure she believed the man. His eyes darted back and forth between her and the ground. “That’s convenient that you should be stationed in the same camp.”

“It is.” Lewis shifted nervously from foot to foot. “Pardon me, ma’am, but I have to get going.”

“Please call me Emma, and take care of yourself.” She patted the man’s firm shoulder reassuringly.

Nodding, Lewis left, and disappeared among the myriad of tents and soldiers. Emma turned toward the tent, and let out a startled cry when she came face-to-face with Coleen. “Heavens, you scared me.”

Coleen smiled, and took Emma’s hand. “I’m sorry. That seems to be a habit of mine with you.”

Emma instantly forgot her irritation as she looked into Coleen’s concerned blue eyes. “I - I didn’t know you and Corporal Thomas were cousins.”

Coleen looked toward where the young man had just walked. “Why would you know that?”

Shaking her head, Emma stammered. “I mean, I - it’s nice the two of you are stationed together.”

“I suppose. Sometimes he can be a handful. He’s young, though eager to learn. You can’t ask for much more.” Coleen turned her attention back to Emma as she pulled the tent flap back. “Please, come inside before we get soaked through.”

Emma followed Coleen into the small canvas tent. There was a narrow wooden cot covered with a thin cotton blanket, a three legged stool, and a large closed steamer trunk. The tent was immaculate, and smelled of jasmine and rain. “Thank you for inviting me over. I don’t get the chance to interact with many women. We are spread among various camps, and our paths rarely cross.”

Coleen sat on the stool, and gestured for Emma to sit on the cot. “Where are you from, Emma?”

Emma felt uncomfortable sitting on the woman’s bed, but it would be more awkward if she continued to stand. Sitting on the edge of the cot, she crossed her legs. “Grafton, Vir - well, now - West Virginia.”

Coleen’s eyebrow arched. “West Virginia? Interesting what happened there.”

Emma nodded. “The application for admission to the Union was made to Congress in May, and I’ve heard acceptance into the Union will be approved by year’s end. On the condition, of course, that a provision for the gradual abolition of slavery be inserted into West Virginia’s constitution. If memory serves, this will be the most expedient admission of a state in the history of the country.”

Emma could see the amused expression on Coleen’s beautiful face, and blushed. “Sorry, it’s something I feel very strongly about, and I can sometimes go on too long.”

Coleen considered Emma for a few seconds, and the woman’s scrutiny made Emma shift nervously. “Then you support the war?” the dark haired woman finally asked.

“I believe cruelty, intolerance and oppression has no place in a country built on the idea that all men are created equal.” Emma frowned. “I do wish the Founding Fathers had thought to add all men and women though.”

Coleen grinned. “Don’t you know?” Emma tilted her head to the side, a perplexed expression on her face. “Emma, no one gives you power - least of all a man. You take it. ”

Emma chewed nervously on the inside of her cheek. She had never heard a woman say such a thing, and it both excited and scared her. “Who did you take your power from?” she managed, in a voice barely above a whisper. The sound of the rain was pattering against the tent, nearly drowning her out.

The dark haired woman stood, walked the few steps across the tent until she was standing in front of Emma. Kneeling, Coleen looked intently at Emma, her eyes wandering over the entirety of her face. Coleen placed her hands on either side of Emma’s hips, and leaned forward until their lips were only an inch apart. “Tell me to stop.” Coleen’s breath was cool on Emma’s face, her eyes looking straight into Emma.

The idea of asking the beautiful woman to not kiss her hadn’t occurred to Emma. From the bottom of her stomach there began a slow burn. It spread out across Emma’s abdomen and up into her chest where it wrapped around her rapidly beating heart.

In the end, it was Emma who closed the space between her and Coleen. The first tentative touch of her lips against the coolness of Coleen’s elicited a quiet sigh from the blonde. Coleen’s lips parted, and the tip of her tongue pushed gently against Emma’s lips. Reaching to take Coleen’s face in her hands, Emma pulled the woman to her.

An urgency grew in Emma as she clung to Coleen. The entirety of her life, and the security she had known, shattered as brilliant flashes of light popped behind her closed eyes. All at once, she was alive and vulnerable in this woman’s arms.  She had felt wrong for having wanted Rebecca, and wanting to be wanted by her. The wholeness of who she was had been hidden, and it had been hard suffering the weight of that secret. Now, with that weight lifted, Emma felt elated.

Coleen gently pushed Emma back onto the cot, their lips never parting. Emma was having trouble catching her breath as the woman’s lips found the front of her throat and began to gently suck the delicate skin. Emma entwined her fingers in Coleen’s hair, the texture reminding her of silk.

“Miss Atman! Are you in there?” The sound of John Heywood’s voice came from the other side of the tent flap. John was a twelve year old who had been orphaned during the early days of the war, and taken in by the advancing Union troops when he was found half-starved in a burned out homestead. Now he did odd jobs around the camp, and tended to the horses as needed.

Emma gasped, and turned her head toward the entrance. Coleen continued to gently suck her neck, undeterred by the interruption. “What is it, John?” In spite of the fire whirling within her, she managed to sound calm when she spoke.

“Urgent letter for you, ma’am.” John answered.

“Alright John. One minute please.” Emma put her hands on Coleen’s shoulders, and tried to push her back, but the woman wouldn’t move. A low moan escaped her lips, as she ran her tongue up the length of Emma’s neck. “Coleen, I have to get this, please.”

Coleen finally relented, and when she leaned back, her face was framed by dark cascading curls of her hair. Her eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of the tent. “Come right back.” Her voice was low and demanding.

Emma ran the tip of her finger along Coleen’s lower lip. “Promise.” She had no intention of stopping now that she had discovered the intensity of feelings the woman’s touch stirred in her. Sliding out from under Coleen, Emma straightened her dress and hair before pulling the tent flap back.

“Here you are, ma’am.” The small boy handed Emma a weathered envelope, and ran off toward the center of the camp.

Emma closed the tent flap, and turned the envelope over. She recognized the handwriting as Ada’s and a smile formed on her lips. She had not heard from her family since leaving Grafton, and seeing the letter now, she realized how much she had missed them.

“Who’s it from?” Coleen sat up on the cot, and pulled her hair back.

Emma glanced up at the woman, and felt a new surge of desire rush through her. “It’s from my stepmother.” She slid her finger along the fold of the envelope, dislodging the white wax seal. Unfolding the letter, she began to read.

“You look upset. What is it?” Coleen stood and walked toward Emma.

“My father. He’s taken ill. Very ill, and is asking for me.” Emma’s eyes filled with tears.

Coleen took the letter from her, and looked at it quickly. “It sounds like the flu. How old is he?” She handed the letter back to Emma.

Staring at the floor of the tent, it took several seconds before Emma could process Coleen’s question. “He’s fifty-nine.” Emma folded the letter and slid it into the front pocket of her dress. “I have to go.”

Coleen shook her head. “Don’t be foolish. The lines are skewed all across this region. The odds of you getting through without being killed or captured are slight.”

“I can get an escort.” Emma knew requesting one of the much needed soldiers be pulled from the line was not only futile, but incredibly selfish.

“That won’t happen.” Coleen walked back over to the cot and sat down. “What do you hope to accomplish by going? If he’s truly that ill, and nearing sixty, his odds of survival are slim.” Her voice was casual and without sympathy.

Emma’s breath caught. “Can your heart be so cold?”

Coleen’s brow furrowed. “I’m simply saying -”

Emma’s worry and sadness over the news of her father mixed with indignation that this woman would speak so casually about the death of her father. “You don’t know anything about it, so you would be best served to keep your opinions to yourself.”

Coleen leveled her gaze at Emma. “It’s your life.”

“That’s right, and I’ll not have my father die thinking I didn’t care enough to be with him.” Emma turned and quickly exited the tent. The rain had stopped, and the air was left with a chill. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she walked quickly towards the field hospital tents.

“Doctor Anderson.” Emma stood behind the man as he took an injured soldier’s pulse.

“Yes, what is it?” The doctor stood and faced Emma.

“I’ve received notice that my father has taken gravely ill. I will need to go attend to him at once.” She struggled to maintain a calm demeanor. Her emotions were off kilter with the news of her father coming in such close proximity to her affections with Coleen. Thinking about Coleen, and how insensitive she had been, caused Emma’s pulse to race. “I will return as soon as I’m able.”

Anderson looked at Emma, and then glanced around the overcrowded tent. “I can’t spare you right now, but I promise as soon as the offensive is over, you can leave.”

Emma shook her head. “I’m leaving now. Under the revised United States Army Regulations of 1861, Article twenty one, subparts one hundred and eighty four through one hundred and eighty seven, I may be granted a leave of absence, not to exceed four months, for reasons of sickness.” Taking a deep breath, Emma continued. “The matter of sickness, and more importantly, who is sick, is not specified.”

“Emma - I understand - but -” Anderson stammered.

Shaking her head, Emma took the letter from her pocket, and handed it to the doctor. “My father and I parted on bad terms. He didn’t approve of me volunteering. I don’t want words spoken in anger to be the last ones he and I share.” She watched Anderson’s face closely, trying to gauge his reaction as he read over Ada’s letter.

Rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, the man exhaled. “How will you get there? The entire region is teeming with Confederate troops. If anything happened to you -”

Emma took the letter back from the doctor. “I’ll stick to the back roads, and hunting paths. I know this part of the country very well. Grafton is a four day walk from here; so I will need to take supplies from the canteen.”

“I don’t want you to do this, Emma.” The man pleaded with her. “It isn’t safe for a woman to be roaming the countryside in the middle of a war.”

“It obviously isn’t any safer for a man doctor.” She looked around at the sea of injured soldiers, and not waiting for a response, turned and left the tent.

Entering her own tent, Emma stripped down to her cotton chemise and stockings. The damp chill in the air sent a shiver up her spine as she began to layer her clothing. Pulling a pair of brown trousers on, she then pulled a cotton shirt over her head, and tucked it into the waistband of the pants. She only had two dresses to choose from, and opted for the thicker wool dress. Emma picked the tattered, black leather high boots up off the floor, and sitting of the side of her cot pulled them on and began lacing them up.

She rose from the cot, and looking around, saw very little she could take with her. She rolled her bedding up, including a five by five swath of canvas, and tucked it inside the mail carrier style leather bag she had, along with a spare pair of stockings. Exiting her tent, she ran directly into Lewis Thomas, and stumbled backwards a few steps before the man quickly reached for and steadied her.

“Oh, ma’am. I am so sorry. Are you okay?” His hand was wrapped firmly around her bicep.

“I’m okay Lewis.” She glanced over his shoulder, nervous Coleen might be with him. She couldn’t think about her now. The mixture of desire and frustration she felt toward the woman would only further intensify if she had to face her before leaving the camp.

“Are you going somewhere?” Lewis let go of her arm, and looked at the bag slung over her shoulder.

“I have to go home to Grafton. My father is ill.” Emma began walking toward the canteen and supply tents.

“That seems very dangerous.” The corporal fell into step next to Emma.

“These are dangerous times, Lewis.” Emma liked the handsome man. After all, he had saved her life, but she was tired of justifying her decision.

“Very true ma’am.” Lewis continued alongside Emma without speaking another word.

Emma knew the sergeant in charge of the canteen and supply tent from when she had helped him when his gout had flared up; so when she asked him for a pouch of matches, a dozen candles, and a week’s rations he hesitated only a second before honoring her request.

Stepping out of the supply tent, Emma saw Lewis standing nearby, leaning against a pine tree. She walked toward the young man, who wore a worried expression on his perfectly symmetrical face. “Don’t look so concerned, Lewis. I’ve lived in this area my whole life. I know the roads and the hunting paths very well.”

Lewis nodded. “I have no doubt that of all the people in this camp, you would be the most likely to succeed in this endeavor.”

Emma appreciated that he had said people and not women. “Thank you, Lewis. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Doctor Anderson is aware I’ve left.” She hesitated, not sure if she should mention Coleen. “Tell your cousin I’ll see her when I get back.”

Lewis frowned. “Coleen won’t be here. She mentioned an assignment in Pennsylvania.”

Emma struggled not to feel hurt that Coleen would initiate a physical relationship with her knowing she was leaving the camp. “Regardless, tell her goodbye for me.” Emma felt tears begin burning her eyes, and she walked away from Lewis before she embarrassed herself.

“Be careful, Emma.” Lewis’ voice was sincere and layered with concern.

Not looking back, Emma walked quickly toward the road leading west.

***

Emma sat under a canvas square she had strung up between two trees, the patter of rain the only sound in an otherwise silent forest. She had draped a blanket over her head and shoulders to ward off the night chill, and was managing to keep a small fire going, though the heat it provided was minimal.

For the past three days, she had traversed the valleys, hills and forests of northwest Virginia into West Virginia. Her legs ached and her back was in knots from the strenuous climbing. She had stayed mainly on a network of hunting paths, trying to minimize the amount of time she was on main roads. On the second day, she had heard musket and cannon fire in the distance, but other than that, the journey had been free of altercations.

She had cleared a lower ridge of the Allegheny Mountains earlier that evening, and by her estimate was less than a half day’s travel from Grafton. Huddled under the small strip of canvas, Emma leaned as close as she could to the small fire. Her hands were outstretched in front of her, trying to draw as much heat into her body as possible.

It was the early spring. Although the days were mild, the chill that set in at night, along with the rain, caused Emma to shake with cold. Pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders, she knew sleep would not come easily, if at all. Turning to lay on her side, with her back to the warmth of the fire, Emma closed her eyes, and willed the tension from her body. Just as she thought sleep might take her, she heard a cracking of tree branches, and a rustling of leaves from just outside the glow of her camp fire.

Sitting up, Emma reached for the small canteen to her right, and quickly poured water from it onto the fire. The darkness of the night enveloped her. Turning her head toward the sound, she listened closely, but all she could hear was the rain. Squinting into the darkness, Emma could see the forest was dark and deep. The shadows cluttered with trees and rocks. A shiver ran up Emma’s back, and she cringed against it, willing the sour fear that was rising to the back of her throat away.

A low growl came from behind her. Fearful any sudden movement might provoke whatever animal was upon her, Emma sat perfectly still, her eyes wide with fright. Another ominous growl, this time from directly in front of her, filled the night air. Peering into the darkness, Emma could see two iridescent green orbs fixed on her. Just as her mind registered the need to run, Emma was hit by a solid object that left her lying flat on her back.

Gasping for breath, Emma opened her eyes to see the cloudy night sky overhead. Whatever had hit her had shoved her out from under the protection of the canvas tarp. She lay now, on her back and fully exposed in the middle of the forest. The rain splashed on her face, as she sat up. Before she could roll over and get to her knees, she was struck again from the side.

The fear from earlier was replaced by a desperate need to survive. Scrambling to her hands and knees, Emma tried to stand, but to her dismay her right leg would not support her. She grabbed at the useless limb, and a stabbing pain ran up her thigh and along her hip. She pulled her hand back, and even in the darkness, she could see blood.

Dragging herself along with no destination in mind, only the need to flee whatever it was attacking her, Emma managed to prop herself up, and lean her back against the trunk of a large tree.

Turning her head to the left, and then quickly back to the right, Emma’s breath came in short stops and starts. Her heart raced, and in spite of the chill in the air, sweat coated her forehead and back. A sudden movement to her right was immediately followed by a sharp, searing pain in her neck. To her horror, Emma realized the thing attacking her was a woman. She was clad in a pair of dark trousers and a thin brown shirt. Her auburn hair was thick, curly and strewn wildly around her pale face.

Pushing against the narrow shoulders of her attacker, Emma tried desperately to dislodge the woman. Looking up into the woman’s eyes, Emma breath caught as iridescent emeralds stared back at her. She heard a popping and tearing sound as the other woman tore into her throat.  Her own blood ran down Emma’s neck, and the warmth of the liquid contrasted with the cold night air.

A painful heat began to spread through her body, and the sound of rain and the pounding of her own heart were drowned out by a loud sucking sound.  Emma realized the sound was emanating from the woman as she pulled blood from her throat in gulps.

Her head began to spin, and a wave of nausea washed over her. Tears streamed down the sides of her face as she realized she was dying. Just as quickly as the woman had been upon her, she was gone. Her vision having narrowed to a single dim point, Emma was only partially aware there was a struggle going on to her left. The sound of branches snapping, followed by low growls, and heated words ricocheted off her ears.

Emma tried to take a deep breath, but instead of her lungs filling with air, her ears filled with a wet, strangled sound coming from the gaping tears in her throat and windpipe. Bringing her hands to her throat in an effort to stem the bleeding, Emma choked and coughed as blood ran into her lungs. She was dying, and was amazed at how easy it was.

With one final gasp, Emma’s hands fell from her throat. The numbness and cold that had started in her hands and feet, was now spreading through her stomach and up into her chest. She wasn’t aware of her head being carefully lifted from the hard, cold ground before a bitter, cold liquid with the texture of syrup was forced into her mouth and down her throat. There was a faint, slow thumping in Emma’s ears as her heart seized, and she died.

***

Emma had vanished unwillingly into a vast, silent void. She had been violently ripped from her body, and thrust back into it with a jolt of electricity. The energy of the world hummed around her, until it came to a single high pitched point at the center of her brain. Ripples from that humming coursed out to her arms and legs, bouncing back into the center of her chest where it rested as an intense, torturous burning.

“Emma, it’s going to be alright. It’s Lewis. Corporal Lewis.” Emma recognized the man’s voice, but it sounded different. It was no longer comprised of a single tone, but rather infinite layers of sound, one upon the other.

Her eyes burned nearly as bad as her chest. The darkness of the night had been replaced with a brilliant sun. “Le- Lewis?” Emma managed to speak through what felt like glass in her throat.

“Shhh. It’s best not to talk for the first few hours.” The man’s hand gently stroked Emma’s cheek, the coolness of his touch from before no longer evident.

Emma needed to sit up. Hardly had the thought crossed her mind then she was on her feet, having pushed off of Lewis who now lay sprawled on the forest floor. Squinting against the light, Emma scanned her surroundings. The trees seemed to fold in on one another, the texture of their bark and leaves spiraling out from enormous trunks.

Lewis was standing in front of Emma, his hands outstretched. “It’s okay. You were attacked, and I intervened.” As beautiful as the man had been before, Emma gasped at the how flawless and perfect he appeared now.

“What’s happened?” Emma grabbed at her throat, expecting to feel the jagged edges of torn flesh and bone. Instead, the skin was smooth and unblemished.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. I blame myself for leaving you unattended while I hunted.” Lewis’ blue eyes were full of worry.

“What wasn’t supposed to happen?” Emma swallowed, the burning in her throat growing painful.

“You were attacked by a - a vampire. She meant to kill you, but I managed to fight her off.” Lewis took a tentative step toward Emma. “I couldn’t let you die for my mistake.”

Emma wasn’t able to make any sense of the words Lewis was speaking. She opened and closed her mouth, her jaw popping as she stretched her neck to the left. “I’m thirsty.”

Lewis nodded. “These things usually happen under more controlled conditions. I - I don’t know what to do for you.” The man looked down. “I’ve never made anyone before.”

Emma frowned. “Made?”

Lewis looked up. “I made you into a vampire, Emma.”

“I don’t understand you.” Emma took her first breath in through her nose. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she caught a minerally, metallic scent. Without warning, her incisors extended and pushed against her lower lip. Reaching to cover her mouth, she looked at Lewis, her eyes wide with fear. “What’s happening to me?”

“Your senses are all heightened. You can smell and hear things that are miles away.” The man slowly reached out and moved Emma’s hand away from her mouth. “You feed on blood, so your teeth are sharp to aid in that.”

Emma jerked her hand away from Lewis. The mention of blood, and the visual it put in Emma’s mind, caused a tightening in her chest, and the burning in her throat raged. Swallowing several times, she stepped back from Lewis. “I’m so thirsty.” There was a slight tickle inside her left ear, and then a second later, a low, steady thudding sound filled her head.

Without warning, Emma was sprinting through the forest at speeds she couldn’t imagine. Coming to a sheer rock wall, simply wanting to scale it propelled her upward and over the twenty foot structure. Landing on a flat ledge, Emma crouched on all fours, her head turned upward as the metallic scent filled her senses.

The thudding in her ears was getting louder as she sprinted into a clearing. Emma was only vaguely aware of how long she had been running, but she knew she had traversed many miles in a short period of time. She stopped suddenly, her gaze cast skyward at the rustic cross atop her father’s church. The white paint seemed translucent to her new eyes, and seeing the sky for the first time, Emma was mesmerized by the spinning and turning of the stars and moon above her.

Looking around, Emma realized, in spite of the brightness of her own vision, that it was still a few hours before dawn. The metallic scent wafted over her again. Emma’s stomach cramped, and she doubled over in pain. While on her knees she heard the fall of footsteps from behind the church.

“Emma?” It was her sister’s husband, David. He smelled like honey and musk as he walked toward her, a wooden crutch under his left arm. Awkwardly, he knelt down next to Emma. “What are you doing here?” His hand was on her shoulder, warm and pulsing blood below the skin reverberated through Emma.

Independent of any reason, Emma turned her head, and in the blink of an eye sank her teeth into David’s hand. Crying out in pain, David stumbled backwards clutching his injured limb. The crutch lay next to Emma, forcing the terrified man to turn and with a severe limp, hobbled inside the church.

Emma heaved in a deep breath. The blood tasted of spearmint as she licked and lapped at the remnants on her lips. David’s heart beat was a steady flutter inside the church. His breathing was rapid, the breath expelling his scent out into the air where Emma inhaled it deeply. With a single thought, she was at the door of the church, the metal door latch in her hand, and a split second later, the door was flung twenty feet behind her.

She couldn’t see David, but his heart beat pounded in her ears, causing her to feel dizzy. Following the sound, Emma rounded the end of a wooden pew to find the terrified man huddled on the floor. Flipping the pew into the air, Emma rushed toward David.

Grabbing him by the throat, she pulled him toward her, and sank her teeth into the warm suppleness of his throat. She tore through skin, muscle, and bone, swallowing the blood greedily as it gushed into her mouth. The burning in her throat and chest were replaced by a static charge of energy throughout her entire body, and a strength she had never known coursed into her muscles.

As the man’s heart stopped, Emma became keenly aware the blood began to taste bitter. Pulling her mouth away, she held David’s limp body a foot off the ground as she examined his still, expressionless face. Dropping the corpse to the wood planked floor of the church, she turned toward the doorway. Within a minute Emma stood on a modest front porch.

A single heartbeat formed a pulsating point in Emma’s mind as it was quicker than the other two slower heartbeats coming from the house. The wet minerally scent of blood, mixed with lilac, brought Emma’s senses into sharp focus as she charged through the door of the house, and up the narrow flight of steps.

Her need for blood was insatiable as she lunged toward the sleeping figure. Twisting the human’s head back, Emma bit into the sweet skin just above where the neck and shoulder met. Ripping the flesh and muscle free of the tendons, she quickly returned her mouth to the gaping wound, and began gulping the delectable blood.

Drinking to the point where she could no longer hear the human’s heartbeat, Emma dropped the limp body and stood. Breathing in through her nose, she reveled in the fading scent of living blood. Wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, Emma looked down at the lifeless figure.

Had she still a heartbeat, it would have stopped in that moment. Emma clutched at her chest as a chasm of regret formed within her. Falling to her knees, she was consumed with wrenching sobs that shook her entire frame. Her sister Mary’s lifeless body was nestled in the blood soaked sheets.

There was a firm hand on Emma’s shoulder, and a familiar voice close to her ear. “Emma, we need to go.”

Turning her blood streaked face upward, Emma was met with the intense gaze of Coleen’s piercing blue eyes. Not understanding or caring why or how the woman came to be beside her, Emma grabbed Mary’s limp body to her. She rubbed the dead child’s back, rocking back and forth. “Forgive me, forgive me.” Her voice was strangled as she gasped for breath. The blood from her eyes was mixing with Mary’s.

“Coleen, fix her!” Emma reached for the woman.

“I can’t.” Coleen knelt next to the Emma, placing her arm around the woman’s shoulder.

“No!” Emma jerked her shoulder away from Coleen. “Don’t you dare say that to me!”

In spite of the fierceness in Emma’s voice, Coleen slowly moved back to her side, and wrapped her arm around Emma’s shoulder. “It’s too late, Emma.” Coleen reached down and gently brushed Mary’s chestnut colored hair away from her still face. “Her heart has stopped.”

Collapsing back into Coleen’s arms, Emma continued to hold Mary. She buried her face in the side of the girl’s still warm neck, trying to commit her scent to memory. She felt bruised through to her center. The sobs had stopped, and she could only manage a faint whimper. The blood lust from only moments ago had been replaced with an unimaginable grief. A grief rooted in loss and self-loathing.

She had robbed Mary of a life of unlimited possibility. She would never fall in love nor have children of her own. The wonders of life that Emma had wanted for her sister had been taken, just like the girl herself.

“Lewis is downstairs, and we have to go before your stepmother comes. Do you want to repeat this with her?” Coleen pulled at Emma’s shoulders.

“Kill me!” Emma released Mary’s frail body back onto the bed, and grabbed Coleen by the collar. “I don’t want to live with this.” Her voice cracked as she pleaded with the woman.

“Not here.” Coleen pulled Emma to her feet, and took her by the throat. “You will pull yourself together, and you will do as I say or I assure you whatever death you think you deserve, I will oblige you tenfold.” Grabbing a stunned Emma by the hair of the head, Coleen drug her out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Lewis stood at the door to the master bedroom. His hand firm on the door latch. “The woman is awake, and trying to open the door.” He looked at Emma, who stood limply at Coleen’s side, his eyes filling with blood. “I - I’m so sorry.”

Coleen shook her head. “For God’s sakes, not you too.” Coleen picked Emma up, and flung her over her shoulder. “I’ll meet you near the fork of the river. About ten miles upstream.” Without waiting for the man’s response, Coleen flung the wooden front door open, broke into a run, and disappeared toward the western horizon.

Emma couldn’t be bothered to hold on to Coleen. It was the dark haired woman’s tremendous strength that kept Emma close as they moved through the forests of West Virginia. She had asked Coleen to kill her, though now, in retrospect, killing seemed too simple, too mild. A slow torturous death would still fall short of the fate she deserved.

Chapter 16

“Do you still believe that?” Ash wiped tears from her face as she looked closely at Emma. “Do you still believe you deserve a slow torturous death?”

Emma managed a faint smile, and took Ash’s hand. “I did. For a long time.” She released Ash’s hand and stood with her back to the woman. “For nearly a decade I refused to feed. Lewis and Coleen are the only reason I survived.” She turned to face Ash, her eyes pooling with blood. “They force fed me animal blood for years, restraining me to ensure I didn’t escape and do myself harm.” Emma shook her head. “I don’t know what would have happened if Lewis hadn’t gone back and found Coleen.”

“That’s why you’re so loyal to her?” Ash was trying to process the enormity of information she had been given.

“Yes.” Emma knelt in front of Ash, and took her hands in hers. “She helped me find that useful sadness we talked about.” She brought the palm of Ash’s hand to her lips, kissing it gently. “After what happened, I have never taken human blood, and I never will.”

“What happened to your family?” Ash had more questions than she could find the words for, and then part of her just wanted to hold Emma.

Sitting next to Ash on the bed, Emma took a deep breath. “I never went back. Coleen made inquiries and I was told my father died only a few days later. Ada and Martha were both so stricken by their respective losses, they left Grafton.” She looked down and picked at a loose thread on Ash’s quilt. “I don’t know where they went.”

“It’s not your fault. You have to know that.” Ash squeezed Emma’s hand.

Emma shrugged. “It is. My actions clearly caused the brutal death of two people. One I thought of as a daughter.” She looked at Ash, her eyes wandering along the dark haired woman’s forehead, down her cheek, and stopping at her lips. “Over the years though, that hardly seemed the point. The regret became almost as appalling as the acts themselves. Empty, without purpose or form.” Emma put her hand on Ash’s knee. “I had to stop indulging in it as some type of penance.”

“Where’s Lewis?” Ash had thought the man seemed very kind as Emma recounted her story, and it didn’t surprise her the vampire who made Emma was not altogether different from her in his compassion and concern.

“Coleen left for Europe shortly after the turn of the twentieth century. Lewis had no interest in joining her, and they parted amicably. I stayed with him for another twenty years, and then our interests diverged, and we parted ways.” Emma smiled. “It’s not that different from a human existence really. People come and go.”

“But it is different.” Ash was sorting through her feelings, and questions were pushing in and out of her mind. “You live forever; so there isn’t the same urgency or necessity to get it right.”

“That’s true.” Emma considered Ash’s point as her hand slowly rubbed her knee.

“How old is Coleen?” Ash’s concentration was slipping under Emma’s touch.

“Let’s just say she’s old enough to witness to the fact Jesus Christ did not get up and take an afternoon stroll after three days.” Emma watched Ash closely to gauge her reaction.

Ash cringed. “Is there a God at all, then?”

Emma laughed. “I wouldn’t know, but I can tell you that with the specter of death removed, I haven’t found a need for one.”

Ash was amazed at the revelation. “Do you ever miss being human?”

“I haven’t been human for a long time. The change and time fades our memories significantly. But what I do remember is being afraid.” Emma looked away from Ash. “There was this constant threat of illness or death, and whether there would be enough food to make it through the winter.”

Ash took Emma’s cool hand. “People still worry, just about different things.”

Emma looked at their two hands, and smiled at the contrast between her pale skin and Ash’s olive tones. “Humans are amazing to me now. You’re the only species on the planet that - for almost your entire lives - know you’re going to die, and yet you move forward.”

Emma leaned toward Ash, and put her hand over hers. “You forge bonds, love, hate, family - all of it knowing the end creeps closer with each passing day.”

Ash shifted forward on the bed so her and Emma’s knees were now touching. “I think we’re wired not to think of it like that. What would be the point anyway? Worrying about dying doesn’t stop it from happening.”

Ash smiled. “I read a commencement speech once that Kurt Vonnegut gave where he said something like ‘Try not to worry, but if you do, know that worrying is like chewing bubble gum to solve an algebra equation’.”

Emma smirked. “The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.”

Ash laughed. “Of course you know that speech.”

Emma’s brow furrowed as she looked at Ash.  “I may be trouble that blindsides you on a Tuesday afternoon.”

Ash wanted to hold Emma and reassure her. She decided to shift down off the bed so she was kneeling in front of her instead. “You’re not trouble. Besides, the hard part is over.”

Emma turned her head to the side and looked closely at Ash. “How do you mean?”

Ash started to reach for Emma’s cheek, wanting desperately to touch her. At the last second she let her hand drop to Emma’s knee instead. “We’re already good friends.”

Emma looked incredulous. “Oh, that’s the hard part?”

Ash nodded and sat back down next to Emma. “In my experience, yes.”

Emma leaned over and pressed her lips to Ash’s forehead. “You’re wonderful.”

Ash smiled at the woman’s touch. “So, Harry said you don’t sleep.” Ash didn’t want to turn the conversation into an interrogation, but she had more questions. “I mean, he mentioned-”

Emma took Ash’s hand in hers. “Harry told you a lot, it seems.” She smiled reassuringly.

“My curiosity got the better of me, and he was gracious.” Ash looked toward the door. “How long has he been doing this?”

Emma continued to look intently at Ash. “He’s been helping with the unexpected in San Antonio for nearly a decade. Before that, I honestly don’t know.”

“Does this happen often enough to warrant a full time person?” Ash was horrified to think this was going on in mass under her nose.

Emma shook her head. “No, no. That would be terrible. Harry owns his own company and does private biohazard removal most of the time. Suicides, unattended deaths. That sort of thing.”

“And the sleeping?” Ash was fascinated by the idea of someone who never slept. She couldn’t imagine how drastically different the world would be if people never had to sleep. It would add decades to their lives.

“Vampires don’t sleep. We don’t get tired, or sore, or sick.” Emma paused, anticipating Ash’s next question. “We can eat human food, but short of taste, it does nothing for us nutritionally. We are strongest when consuming human blood, but for a lot of us, animal blood has become a more moral and ethical choice. Not to mention it draws less suspicion, since over the years - as technologies have improved - hiding a body or masking the cause of death has become increasingly difficult.”

“How often do you have to - eat?” Ash wasn’t sure about the vernacular.

“I schedule once a week. Coleen, who’s older, can go up to three weeks between feedings.” Emma put her hand back on Ash’s knee. “Now, I have a question.” Emma looked carefully at the woman. “Did you mean what you said earlier - about not being able to stop the attraction?”

Ash’s breath caught at the question. Emma was a foot from her, and she was already having difficulty focusing with the lavender scent the vampire emitted permeating her senses. Speaking directly to her attraction for Emma wasn’t going to help. It seemed the more she struggled against her feelings for Emma, the more they surged like a riptide, pulling Ash further and further out. “Yes.” Her voice sounded small.

“How long have you felt this way?” Emma reached up and cupped Ash’s cheek with her cool hand.

A soft sigh escaped Ash’s slightly parted lips. “A while.”

Emma’s brow lifted. “Really? A while?”

Ash blushed as she turned her lips to Emma’s palm. “Yes.”

“How long is a while?” Emma leaned forward. Her lips inches from Ash’s.

“Longer than a week.” Ash grinned, the touch of Emma’s hand on her face causing her heart to race.

“Me too.” Their voices were low, and whispered.

Emma’s eye contact was unrelenting, the blue intensifying, and causing Ash to feel light headed. Having hardly acknowledged her feelings for Emma to herself, talking about it with her felt strange and a little forbidden. “For how long?” Ash was prepared for Emma to tease her and say longer than a week.

“Since you and I talked about your mother.” Emma admitted without a hint of anxiety or awkwardness.

Ash’s first reaction was to accuse the beautiful blonde of exaggerating to make a point, but when she saw the earnestness in Emma’s eyes, Ash felt a lump form in her throat. “You - you’ve had feelings for me for three years?”

Emma nodded. “I had seen you around the medical examiner’s building, and at a few of the cross-functional events. I was immediately attracted to you. Look at you.” Emma ran her eyes up and down the length of Ash’s body. “But when we actually met, and you were so heart sick over Elizabeth’s death, I knew I wanted to know you better.”

“But you never asked me out.” Ash was confused.

“I had considered it, but then heard you were dating Amanda Weis.” Emma shrugged. “Our timing has been off, and then there is the whole vampire/human conundrum.”

A loud knock rattled the bedroom door. “Ladies. I’m finishing up out here.” Harry’s gravelly voice caused Emma and Ash to move apart.

Emma let out an exasperated sigh. “Be right out.” She leaned in and kissed Ash full on the lips. Her hand resting on Ash’s shoulder. “Our timing isn’t great.”

Ash wasn’t expecting the last minute kiss, and her breath caught at the touch of Emma’s lips. The memory of their night together came flooding back. She grabbed Emma’s forearm as she went to get up. Not caring what was next, Ash pulled Emma to her. Their lips met. Ash ran her tongue along Emma’s lower lip, and the blonde moaned quietly.

Emma pulled back, her eyes an iridescent blue. “No fair.”

Ash stared in wonder at how beautiful she looked. “Your eyes are incredible.”

Emma grinned. “You should have seen them last night.” She winked and got up, walking toward the door.

“You mean?” Ash stood and walked after her.

“Didn’t you notice my eyes were closed the entire time?” Emma put her hand on the door knob.

“Well yeah, but some people just do that.” Ash shook her head.

“Hardest thing I’ve ever done. Not looking at you when you climaxed.” Emma opened the door, and exited the room. Behind her, Ash’s blood was boiling and her hands were clenched, trembling to touch.

***

Ash walked up to Cris and Diane’s house. She had been up most of the night with the fiasco at her apartment, but couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t see Diane before the funeral. There were several cars in front of the house, none of which Ash recognized.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself before she knocked. Ash wasn’t sure what she was going to say. She knew from losing her mother that you never completely get over the loss. Even suggesting that to someone seemed cruel. The only comfort she could imagine in the loss of a partner is knowing you never get over it, you just try to get past it.

“Ash.” Diane opened the door, and immediately wrapped her arms around Ash, tears immediately coming to both women’s eyes.

“Diane I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.” Ash clung to the woman, wishing she had something more to offer.

Diane leaned back, her hands on Ash’s upper arms. “Cris always said you were his favorite partner.”

Ash took the tissue she had the foresight to put in her pocket before leaving her apartment, and wiped at her nose. “I used to tell him he was my favorite too, but then he would point out he had been my only partner.”

Diane chuckled, tears forming in her eyes. “Always with the snark.” She stepped back, and took Ash’s hand. “Come inside. Some of our friends and family are here before the service.”

Ash nodded, and followed Diane into the house. She had been to Cris’ house a handful of times, and always liked the casual, unassuming layout and décor. Cris and Diane didn’t put on any airs and wanted everyone to feel welcome in their home. Ash followed Diane back through the house, and out onto the patio.

“Ash, this is Cris’ brother Javier, and his wife Audra.” Diane put her hand on the shoulder of a man who looked like Cris, except his hair was a much lighter brown and his eyes hazel. “This is Cris’ partner, Ash.”

Ash smiled and extended her hand to the couple. “It’s nice to meet you. Cris mentioned y’all often.”

Javier’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he took Ash’s hand. “I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.”

“Ash, do you want to ride with us to the service?” Diane asked as she sat down on a wood folding chair.

Ash shook her head. “No. I’m going with one of the medical examiners.”

Diane nodded. “We’re having a gathering at Paesano’s restaurant after. The one near the Quarry Market. I hope you can make it.”

Ash nodded. “Of course.” She watched as several other people made their way to the patio. Diane introduced her to each of them. They were cousins, uncles, and friends. All of them looked numb with shock and sadness.

Ash wanted to comfort Diane, but instead she felt tense and silent. She could only stand and watch, feeling like Cris was falling further away from her. His killer was dead, as was Paul Garrett’s, but there was no hope of Diane knowing the truth about what killed her husband. The act of lying by omission, the texture and feel of the deception, made Ash’s skin crawl.

For close to a half hour, different family members approached Ash. Each one wanted to know where the investigation was at, and if the police were any closer to knowing who committed the horrible crimes. The news had been reporting the story as if several assailants had ambushed the officers, and taken them apart with knives and machetes. The Mexican Mafia had been mentioned more than once. None of it had been corroborated by the forensic evidence, but people were more comfortable with lies they could understand, than truths that made no sense.

“Who’s the M.E. you’re going with?” Diane’s voice broke into Ash’s musing.

“What?” Ash shifted in her seat. “Oh, ah, Dr. Atman. Emma Atman.”

Diane smiled. “The stick-up-her-ass.”

Ash frowned. “Sorry?”

“Cris said you can forgive her the stick up her ass because she’s so attractive.” Diane smirked.

Laughing, Ash leaned back in the wood chair and crossed her legs. “Right. He always had a way with words.”

The use of past tense caused a catch in Ash’s throat, and seeing the distressed look on Diane’s face, she knew she wasn’t the only one struggling with the vernacular. “Diane, I -”

Tears pooled in the woman’s eyes as she reached for Ash’s hand. “He did have a way with words.” Wiping at her eyes, Diane excused herself and went back into the house.

Ash got up, and headed for the front door as her phone began to vibrate. She glanced at the caller ID and pressed the accept icon on the touch screen. “Hi, Al.”

“I’m checking in with you so I don’t lose you down any proverbial rabbit holes, Haines.” In spite of the humor, Ash could hear the concern in her friend’s voice.

“I’m doing as well as can be expected.” She opened the front door and made her way toward her Jeep parked on the street.

“I’ll see you outside the funeral home at fifteen till?” Alan had texted her earlier that morning and insisted he was coming with her.

“Got it. Emma will be joining us too.” Ash started the Jeep, and leaned back in the seat, already tired.

“Check. You know you still owe me the details on that one.” Alan reminded her.

“I haven’t forgotten. You’ve reminded me every time we’ve talked.” Ash rolled her eyes. Her phone beeped, and she saw Emma was calling through. “Al, I have to go. See you in a bit.” They said their goodbyes and Ash swapped the calls.

“Hi. Checking to see if you’re on schedule to pick me up.” Emma’s voice filled the cabin of the Jeep, and in spite of exhaustion and depression weighing her down, Ash couldn’t stop her smile.

“I’m leaving now, and should be there in about twenty minutes.” The normalcy of the exchange, given the events and revelations of the past seventy-two hours, was disconcerting for Ash.

“Are you okay?” Emma’s sounded concerned.

“Maybe. Probably. Eventually.” Ash put the Jeep in drive.

***

There were low hanging gray clouds in the South Texas sky as mourners gathered for the graveside portion of Cris’ funeral. Ash, Emma and Alan stood shoulder to shoulder near the back of the group of over a hundred people. The crowd consisted of fellow police officers, family and friends.

The presiding officer had just presented Diane with the folded United States flag when Emma reached down to take Ash’s hand in hers. Moments later, the first volley of A-15 shots rang out, then a second, and finally the third. Ash had managed not to cry throughout the service, but as Taps began playing after the final volley, the tears flowed unchecked.

Emma handed her a tissue, and Alan reached around her to reassuringly rub Ash’s back. Leaning into Emma, Ash lowered her head, the oppressive weight of grief pushing her down. She remembered her mother’s funeral, and how the residue of it lingered for months after. The finality brought little comfort.

“Ash, are you ready?” Alan’s voice was unusually quiet as he stood in front of her. Looking up, Ash realized people had begun to disperse while she was reminiscing.

“Yeah, just let me go say goodbye to Diane.” Ash looked at Emma, who smiled as she squeezed Ash’s hand reassuringly.

Winding her way through the thinning crowd, Ash spotted Diane standing with Robert Edwards. She hesitated, recalling her conversation with the lieutenant at the motel, and her insistence the massacre, her break-in, and the Garrett case were all connected. She couldn’t share any of the recent revelations with the lieutenant, but she knew the man well enough to know he wouldn’t let her assertions go unchallenged or forgotten.

“Diane.” Ash reached for the woman, whose grief was evident by the dark circles under her eyes, and the absence of makeup from the excessive crying the day had brought.

Although she wrapped her arms around Ash, Diane’s body felt tense. “This was harder than I could have imagined” the woman managed through choked sobs.

Ash didn’t pretend there were any words sufficient to console her friend; so she just held the woman. Robert stepped forward, and placed a soothing hand on Diane’s shoulder. Making eye contact with Ash, his eyes were blood shot from unshed tears. “Can I talk to you after?” he asked.

Ash nodded. Her stomach was already cramping, since she knew she was going to have to lie to him. “Sure. I’m parked along the cross street. I’ll meet you near my car.”

Robert nodded, and turned his attention to Diane. “If you need anything, please don’t hesitate - day or night.”

Diane lifted her head, and stepped back from Ash, wiping at her eyes. “Thank you.” Robert walked toward the street. “He’s been wonderful. Everyone has been.” Diane put her hand on Ash’s shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

Ash shook her head. She didn’t want Diane worried about her well-being at a time like this. “I’m going to make it. I want you to promise me you’ll call me if you need anything. Otherwise, I’m just going to randomly show up at your house, and that could be awkward.”

Diane laughed as tears ran down her face. Pulling Ash to her, she hugged the woman tightly. “I promise, and you call me if you need anything.” Leaning back she looked closely at Ash. “You lost him too.”

A sob escaped Ash, and she covered her mouth with her hand as the tears streamed down her cheeks unchecked. “I - thank you.” Ash felt she had been careless in her ignorance of the world around her. Life was fragile and hinged on the smallest details. This was something she had been aware of without truly knowing it. Only after the death of a dear friend, and the realization the world harbored immortals, did she appreciate how easily ideas, concepts, beliefs and people are broken.

Walking back toward her Jeep, Ash looked up to see Robert and Emma talking. Alan was near the passenger side of the vehicle on his phone. She wished she had confided in Emma what she had shared with Robert, and that she and Emma had taken the time to discuss what the lie would be.

“Ash, I was just telling Dr. Atman remains we think are human were found buried in a shallow, burnt out grave in Government Canyon. From the size, it looks like a female body.” Robert looked back and forth between the two women. “The head had been severed.”

Ash feigned shock. “That’s awful. Any leads?” She couldn’t make eye contact with Emma, for fear her discomfort would become evident to the Lieutenant.

“No, but I was thinking about what you said the other day at the motel. About all of this being tied to the Garrett case.” His expression was serious as he looked at Ash. “I’m still waiting on that report.”

Ash dared to look at Emma, and was surprised at how calm she looked. Ash’s heart was about to pop out of her chest, and the blonde woman managed to look pensive. “About that.” Ash swallowed the large lump in her throat. “The more I thought about it, the more tenuous the connections seem.”

She looked at Emma. “I spoke to Dr. Atman about my suspicions, and given the absence of fact and evidence, I don’t want to put anything in a formal report that could be used against the department in court.” She had managed a perfectly plausible lie in the moment, and couldn’t decide if she was impressed with herself, or hated herself for it.

Robert looked at Emma, his brow furrowed. “Do you agree with this?”

Emma turned her attention toward the lieutenant. “I do.”

The man sighed heavily, and pursed his lips. “Then we’re back to square one. No leads on Garrett, and the motel killings are one dead end after another.” He looked up at the cloudy midday sky. “Christ, this is complete shit.”

A twinge of guilt flared in Ash, but she quickly squelched it. There was no value in telling the lieutenant something she had no way of showing him, and more importantly, something he wouldn’t be allowed to act on. “I’m sorry.”

The man looked at Ash for several seconds. “It’s okay. I want you to take the week, and then get a fresh start on Monday. I’m keeping you on the Garrett case, and adding the body in Government Canyon to your case load.” He started to walk away, and then stopped. “Are you going to the lunch at Paesano’s?”

The last thing Ash could think about was eating, but she had committed to Diane to be there. “Yes.”

Robert nodded. “Okay, see you there.” His head hanging, the man walked away.

Emma’s cool hand slid into Ash’s. “Are you okay?”

“That completely sucked, and I’m pissed.” She looked at Emma, who wore a worried expression on her face. “I hate lying, and especially to my boss, and about something so - well, kinda earth shattering.”

Before Emma could respond, Alan walked up. “Who’s lying about what?” He looked back and forth between Emma and Ash.

“It’s nothing Al. Are you coming to the luncheon?” The last thing Ash wanted was to get Alan involved in this charade. It was bad enough that he had unknowingly played into Ela’s hands by introducing her and Lara, but it was something altogether different and more sinister to force him to be a party to what amounted to a global deception.

Hearing the tension in Ash’s voice, Alan managed a smile, and wrapped his arm around his friend’s stiff shoulders.  “Pasta and grief. I wouldn’t miss it.”

***

Emma had left the post-funeral luncheon, driven north of San Antonio, and now waited for the wrought iron gate to open before accelerating through it and up a winding road for four hundred yards to Coleen’s house. Emma parked her Nissan Leaf in front of a large stone house surrounded by elaborate xeriscaping consisting of impeccably manicured cactus and hedges lining a gravel walkway leading to a large wooden door.

The door opened as Emma approached, and a barefoot woman dressed in a pair of light tan slacks, and a cream colored three quarter length sleeve blouse stood to greet her. Her pale skin contrasted with her black eyes, and long black hair. “I’ll never understand your affinity for that car, Em.”

Emma smiled at the beautiful woman. “Good evening, Rayven.” She leaned in and quickly kissed the woman on the cheek. “I’ll never understand how you plan to live an eternity on a dead planet.”

Rayven shut the door behind Emma. “We have cactus and rocks out front. For God’s sake, isn’t that enough of a sacrifice?”

Rayven had been Coleen’s companion for nearly thirty years. Emma knew she could be vicious and fiercely protective of Coleen, but over the years she had grown to like Rayven. “Is Coleen in?”

Rayven nodded. “She’s in the garden.” Walking the opposite direction, Rayven smiled over her shoulder. “You know the way.”

Emma walked through several ornately decorated halls, lined with beautiful pieces of art and tapestries. Coleen had spent centuries collecting from all around the world, and Emma couldn’t help but be envious at the size and beauty of the collection. She walked through an archway into a lush garden, complete with fountains.

Coleen was reclined on a wicker framed daybed with a rounded canopy shading her. A copy of Mrs. Dalloway lay across her lap. She got up, and smiled at Emma, and then looked anxiously at the large fountain to her left. “I know what you’re going to say, and I swear the water is recycled and not sourced from the aquifer.” The woman stood.

Emma smirked. “It negates the work you had done out front if you run this twenty-four seven.” She hugged Coleen, not realizing how much she had missed her friend over the past week. “Particularly in the summer, when, recycled or not, you can lose over thirty percent of the water to evaporation.”

“I’ll have Rayven turn it off when we go to sleep.” Coleen winked, and sitting, gestured for Emma to sit next to her on the daybed. “Besides the EPA inspection, what brings you here?”

Emma took a deep breath as she sat perched on the edge of the bed. She couldn’t remember, outside of her interactions with Ash, the last time she had been nervous. If it had been possible, her palms would be sweating. “I’ve done something, and I want you to be aware.”

Coleen frowned. “You’re so dire, Em. I would ask who’s dead, but I know better.”

Emma winced. “I’ve told Ash about us.”

Coleen’s face went stoic, her eyes flashing a brilliant blue. “Why would you do that?”

Emma braced herself. She had seen that look on Coleen’s face before, and whatever calm her tone may indicate, she knew her friend was raging inside. “Police were killed - her partner was killed by a lycan in partnership with Ela. She was attacked by a lycan.”

Emma stood and began pacing. “The situation became too complicated for lies.” She faced Coleen, a pleading look on her face. “I could only manage the truth.”

Coleen’s teeth had extended beyond her upper lips and her eyes glowed blue. “It’s not entirely your truth to share, now is it?” The woman’s voice was lower, verging on a growl. “First Rachel takes a pet, and now -” Coleen glared at Emma. “Don’t tell me you’re in love with the human.”

Emma stood perfectly still. She loathed that the first time she would utter the words, effectively giving her feelings life, wasn’t to Ash, but to Coleen. “I do love her.”

Coleen laughed, and flung herself down on the daybed. “Christ on a cross, you people slay me. You have an eternity of experiences, wants, desires - fucking - and yet insist on tethering it all to the fragility of humanity.” Coleen practically spat the words at Emma.

“I don’t need you to understand.” She clenched her fists, and worked at pulling herself back from the rage she felt building within her. “Ash won’t reveal us. I have no worries about that.”

“You’re right, because you’re going to turn her.” Coleen said it so casually, Emma thought she had misheard.

“What?” Emma whispered.

Coleen leaned back on the daybed, and picked up the book she had discarded moments before. “Turn her or kill her. Your choice.”

Emma felt a surge of anger push through her. Instead of stifling it, she let it course through her veins. Her teeth fully extended as she felt her senses quicken. “How dare you -”

In a single motion, Coleen was off the bed and standing toe to toe with Emma. “How dare you!” The two women stood, teeth bared, practically hissing at each other. “You risk everything, and none of it is yours alone.”

“I hope that I am always willing to risk, and to grow, and change! Otherwise, what’s the point of this life, Coleen?” Emma growled at the woman.

Tilting her head to the side, Coleen considered Emma. “Have your fun, then. Have your adventures, but I’ll not have my fate left in the hands of a human.” She stepped back from Emma. “Turn her, or I’ll kill her.”

Independent of her will, Emma’s legs sprung her forward, and she was instantly on top of Coleen, her hands wrapped around the woman’s throat. “You won’t touch her!”

Coleen’s fist moved so quickly, Emma didn’t have a chance of avoiding it as it struck the left side of her head. Rolling off of Coleen, she heard a series of loud cracks. Looking down, she realized Coleen had snapped both her femurs, leaving the bone painlessly protruding through the skin.

Brushing her hair from her forehead, Coleen cleared her throat as she stood over Emma. “That hurt me more than it hurt you.” She grinned, her incisors showing. “Now, the multiple choice test is as follows. A, you’ll turn Ash. B, I’ll rip her throat out. C - There is no C.”

“Ela took a shifter.” Emma sat up, and was forcing her legs back into position, so the bones could begin to mend.

Coleen crouched down in front of her. “How do you know this?”

Using the palm of her right hand, she pushed the dislodged bone back into the skin. “I met her. Lara is the name she’s going by. With Ela dead, I have no doubt she poses more of a risk to you than Ash ever could. She knows every nuance and detail of what makes us tick, and what ends us.” Within seconds, Emma’s muscle, tendons and pale skin was closing in around the now solid bone.

Coleen extended her hand to Emma. After a slight pause, she accepted her friend’s assistance as she was pulled to her feet. “Fascinating. I haven’t seen or even heard of a shifter in decades.”

“It’s a perversion, Coleen. The relations between vampire and shifter.” Emma massaged her right thigh.

Coleen nodded. “Agreed. It makes a slave of both, but leaves the vampire with the illusion of being master.” The woman walked back to the daybed and sat down. “Slight change of plans. Dispatch Lara, and then address the Ash situation. In the meantime, I would encourage you to begin severing your ties with her.” She looked at Emma. “That way if she ends up dead, it won’t be as painful.”

Emma sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know at what point you decided you held this authority over me.” Her tone was serious as sadness filled her eyes. “I will always be grateful for what you have done for me. Especially those first few years, but I don’t owe you the benefit of my good judgment and conscience indefinitely.”

Coleen’s harsh expression softened, and she patted the cushion next to her. “Please sit with me.” Emma hesitated for a moment, and then sat down, the two women’s thighs touching. “I only think of what’s best for you.”

Emma looked at her friend incredulously. Coleen narrowed her eyes. “I grant you - what’s best for me too, but nothing good can come of Ash knowing. Of you loving her only to watch her age, suffer with sickness and die.” Coleen took Emma’s hand in hers. “So if you believe she will keep our secret, I was wrong not to trust your judgment, but Em - I can’t stomach your suffering if you don’t turn her, and then lose her.”

In that moment, in measurable increments, Emma felt the hope she had clung to slip away. She knew what Coleen said was true. She had pushed the reality of her and Ash’s situation to the back of her mind, and convinced herself the few years she and Ash would have together would be enough. She had imagined the hole her death would leave would be insignificant in comparison to the love.

A single blood tinged tear rolled down Emma’s cheek. Coleen wiped at it with the tip of her finger. “Turn her, Em.”

Shaking her head, Emma got up and stood with her back to Coleen. “I couldn’t. She doesn’t deserve this.”

“Is this so bad?” Coleen asked.

“I can’t imagine she would want this, and I could never force it on her.” Emma remembered her own death, and how the notion of choice was nonexistent. “I’ve never begrudged Lewis his decision. I wasn’t ready to die. But even broaching the subject with Ash could cause her to feel obligated, and make a decision based on what she believes I want, and not what is truly in her heart.”

“Does she love you?” Coleen asked the question as if she were asking the time.

“I - I don’t know.” She didn’t know. They had been together once, and then only partially, with Emma’s secrets wedged between them. The turmoil of the past week had no doubt left Ash feeling vulnerable, and whatever feelings or affections she may have for Emma were more than likely artificially amplified.

Coleen got up and gently rubbed Emma’s back, her voice soothing. “Step away from it then. Focus on Lara, and killing her. Once that’s done, then turn your attentions back to Ash.”

Emma tisked at Coleen. “You’re not subtle.”

Coleen shrugged. “Why bother?”

Taking a deep breath, Emma could feel the uncertainty of the future filling her up. It felt coarse and dry inside her heart and her head. She needed time to consider what was best for Ash and her. These feelings were new to Emma, and she didn’t know what she could bear. In the meantime, she would hunt down and kill Lara.

***

“Are you coming over?” Ash yawned into the phone, her neck stiff from falling asleep on her sofa.

Emma couldn’t help but smile having clearly woken the other woman from a nap. “I need to go into the office for a while, but I may be able to swing by after.” She paused, not wanting to commit to a visit she knew wasn’t part of her plan to give both her and Ash space. “It might be too late.”

There was a long pause. “Are you upset with me?” Ash hated that she had asked the question. It made her sound insecure and needy.

“Not at all.” Emma hated that her vagueness was clearly causing Ash to feel insecure. “I think a good night’s sleep may be in order for you is all.”

Ash wanted to sleep with Emma. She wanted the feel of her arms around her, and the security of knowing the woman was nearby. These feelings were foreign to Ash. Though she didn’t shy away from sleepovers and displays of affections, she had never felt the need to be near another person as acutely as she did Emma. “You’re probably right.” Her courage failed her, and she took the safer, less vulnerable route. “Good night then.”

Emma closed her eyes, her hand tightening around the phone. “Good night.” She hit the end button on her phone, and laid it down on her desk. She was sitting in her study, and for the first time in a hundred and sixty years, she felt exhausted. The simple act of not seeing Ash had left her feeling drained and sluggish. She wondered if the sacrifice - and its possible benefits - was worth the cost.

Chapter 17

Rudy’s Last Call was a small, dimly lighted bar that sat a few blocks off of a major expressway in north central San Antonio. The walls were covered in wood paneling, and the dark green carpet smelled of stale beer. As Emma walked in, she made a point not to breathe.

Inquiries were being made regarding Richard Dorsey’s disappearance, and Emma had taken the opportunity to discover where the lycan had spent his off hours. Given a lycan’s natural tendency toward bravado, she hoped the man had bragged about his partnership with Ela, and perhaps whatever dealings he may have had with Lara.

“What’ll you have?” The overweight Hispanic man behind the bar was wearing a brown t-shirt stretched tightly over his large belly. Faded pine trees were stenciled on the shirt, and below them the phrase I’ve Got Wood. He wiped his hands with a stained bar towel as he looked Emma up and down.

“A Shiner Bock, please.” She slid onto the worn wooden bar stool, glad she had taken the time to change after work into a pair of faded jeans, and a black pintuck style blouse. She already felt conspicuous, and arriving in the Gucci suit she had on earlier would have only made her awkwardness more evident.

The heavy set bartender slid the bottle of beer across the bar to Emma. “Tab?”

Emma smiled. “I’ll pay as I go.” She had left her purse at home, and reached into her back pocket and retrieved a thin bi-fold leather wallet and then a five dollar bill. “Keep the change.” The last thing she wanted was anyone, the bartender or a patron, to know her name.

Scanning the room, Emma took a drink of her beer. The Bock was thinner than its German counterparts, and not as sweet. On her second scan of the room, she saw a tall, broad shouldered man sitting in a tattered booth in the corner. His brown hair was trimmed short, and his hands were disproportionally large for his arms. He had four empty bottles of Corona beer in front of him, and was over half way through his fifth.

Tilting her head slightly to the right, Emma took a deep breath in through her nose. She cringed as she sifted through the layers of stench, ranging from dried vomit to stagnant urine, but her suspicions were confirmed. The man in the corner smelled of rotted meat and mildew. He was a lycan, and given his posture and the occasional greetings given him by other patrons, he clearly frequented the bar.

She knew the odds that Dorsey and this man didn’t know each other were slim. Lycans were, by their nature, pack animals, and though modern day living arrangements had made that less viable, they still managed to find each other. Picking up her bottle of beer, Emma walked toward the man.

“Hey, I was just going to get you another one of those.” A middle age Caucasian man with overly long sideburns stepped in front of Emma. He was wearing a pair of tan khaki pants, brown boots, and a wrinkled blue dress shirt.

Managing a smile, Emma leaned away from the man who insisted on stepping into her personal space. “Thank you, but I’m hardly through my first.” She attempted to step around the drunk man, but he side stepped in front of her.

“Doesn’t hurt to get a head start.” He leaned forward, and even though Emma wasn’t breathing, she imagined he reeked of cheap liquor.

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know. I should take it easy.” She looked at the beer bottle in her hand. “I’m a bit of a light weight.” She wrinkled her nose teasingly, and made a move to walk around the man.

“Don’t be like that.” The man went to grab Emma’s forearm, but she easily stepped away to avoid contact.

Emma leveled her gaze at the inebriated man. “We’re done here.” Her voice was low and menacing.

The man’s eyes widened, and he took a step back. “Fine. I was just being - being - gentlemanly.” He rubbed the top of his head, and stumbled over to the bar.

Emma looked up, and the lycan was gone. Five empty Corona bottles and a twenty dollar bill sat on the table. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and the smell of mildew. The lycan had walked out of the bar, and Emma quickly followed.

“Excuse me, sir.” Emma raised her voice just enough to be heard over the noise of the nearby expressway as the lycan walked around to the side of the bar.

The nearly 6’5” man turned his head slowly, and his eyes widened when he saw Emma. “Well, hi. Do we know each other?” A broad smile spread across his face.

Emma estimated she had maybe ten seconds before the man caught her scent and knew what she was. Whereas the odds of him making a scene in the bar had been low, he more than likely would have no such hesitation in a deserted parking lot.

Scanning the parking lot, Emma saw a dumpster sitting directly behind the lycan. There was a gap of nearly five feet between the container and the cinder block wall behind it. In a single lunge that would have been invisible to the human eye, Emma closed the space between her and the lycan. Digging her nails into the man’s shoulders, she picked him up off the ground, and propelled him toward the back of the dumpster.

Slamming the man onto his back with such force the concrete cracked around his head and shoulders, Emma straddled him at the thighs. Balling her fists up, she struck the lycan once, then twice in the chest. The sound of his sternum cracking was drowned out by the highway noise. Emma dug her elbow into the front of the man’s throat, and grabbed a handful of his hair.

“Do you know a vampire named Ela?” Her voice was low and guttural. Snarling at the man, Emma’s incisors fully extended, and her eyes shone a vivid, iridescent blue.

A series of coughs racked the man’s body, and he spat up blood before he could speak. “Fuck you.”

Emma tightened her grip on the man’s hair, and ripped a handful of dark brown hair from the scalp. The lycan clenched his teeth, and she felt his thighs expanding under her. “Don’t you dare shift. I will snap your neck before you have time to sprout a single hair.” She pushed her elbow further into the man’s throat.

“You’re dead, dead!” The lycan spat and scratched at Emma, his nails unable to break her skin.

Emma leaned back, took the man’s head in her hands, and slammed it into the concrete three times. Blood covered the ground and Emma’s hands as she wrapped them around the lycan’s throat. “Last time. Do you know a vampire named Ela? Or she may have gone by Michelle.” Emma was growing tired of this. She loathed these brute force tactics, but in her experience it was the only means a lycan understood.

“I - I don’t kn-” The lycan spoke through clenched jaws, the rows of teeth multiplying in his mouth.

Emma took a deep breath, and leaned down, her lips only an inch from the man’s right ear. “I will end you. First I will sever the mandibular from the os temporale. That effectively unhinges your jaw.” She turned the lycan’s head so their eyes met. “Then I will reach in and rip out your genioglossus, liberating your tongue from the bone.”

“Go fuck yourself, bitch!” The man spat at Emma.

Sitting up, Emma slowly wiped the blood tinted spit from her cheek, and in a split second, reached into the lycan’s mouth. Taking his tongue between her thumb and forefinger, she pulled the muscle just to the breaking point. “Think about this carefully now. For your sake, try to make a good decision.” The lycan clamped his jaw down in an effort to sever Emma’s hand at the wrist, but it was like biting into stone as the skin and bone were unyielding.

The lycan’s red eyes widened, the pain causing tears to stream from their corners. Emma grinned and wiped at the man’s face. “Shhh, it’s okay. I just need some information, and then you’ll be on your way.” She removed her hand from the lycan’s mouth.

The man’s voice was strangled with fear. “A lycan named Dorsey was taking hits from her, or at least he was promised some if he took care of a few things for her first.”

“Where was she staying?” Emma softened her voice, relieved the lycan was cooperating.

“Some hotel downtown, but the drops were happening north of the city. Some abandoned plant or something.” The man was shaking. “That’s all I know. He didn’t tell me much. He was worried he would have to share.”

Emma nodded. “Thank you.” In the blink of an eye, she was up and off the lycan. The man lay stunned while Emma put nearly a quarter mile between her and what she considered unseemly business.

***

Coleen had convinced Emma to go out with her. She had not enjoyed her bullying of the lycan earlier in the evening, and all she had really wanted was a quiet night in. The two women sat in an intimate corner of the Brooklynite. With the antique appointments reminiscent of a prohibition speakeasy, the dimly lit venue was known for both its discretion and eclectic liquor selection.

“You seem depressed, Em.” Coleen took a drink of her Glenlivet Exotic, the scent of chocolate and orange zest wafting over Emma.

“Coleen, please.” Emma was annoyed and resigned to finish her scotch and leave.

Coleen frowned. “What did I say?”

Emma nearly rolled her eyes at her friend. “I appreciate the necessity to address the Lara situation, and I don’t disagree with you about the predicament I’m in with Ash, but I won’t have you playing the innocent as to why my mood is cross.”

Coleen took Emma’s hand in hers. “Let’s not fight.” The woman practically batted her lashes at Emma. “What did you find out about Lara?”

Relieved Coleen opted to discuss the shifter instead of Ash, Emma put her glass down. “Dorsey was expecting a payment of blood from Ela in exchange for being her enforcer. Sounds like she was performing the more dastardly deeds in an abandoned plant of some sort north of town.”

Before Coleen could respond, a man’s voice broke into their conversation. “Hey, I know you.” Emma looked up to see Alan, dressed in a two-button charcoal colored, Ralph Lauren suit, with a blood red tie.

“Alan.” Emma stood, and briefly hugged the man. She looked over his shoulder to see if Ash was with him, a momentary panic setting in that she might have to navigate that situation with Coleen’s interjections. “How are you?”

“Splendid, and how are you two beautiful ladies doing?” Alan sipped from the martini glass he had in his right hand.

“You can’t be here alone?” Coleen smiled.

Alan winked. “You know me too well.” The man nodded in the direction of a thin, blond man sitting at the bar. He was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, and a teal colored knit Polo shirt with the collar popped. “He’s yummy.”

Emma couldn’t help but smile. She had liked Alan immediately. He was wonderfully clever and funny, and to add to his appeal, it was clear he cared very much for Ash. “Nice tie. Love the color.” Coleen smirked.

Alan raised his glass. “Gracias.” He turned his attention to Emma. “Speaking of yummy, have you seen our favorite detective lately?”

Emma chewed nervously on the inside of her cheek. She didn’t want to go into the complexities of her and Ash’s relationship, especially when there were entire segments of the story she couldn’t reveal to Alan. In addition, she hoped Coleen didn’t take this opening as an opportunity to discuss Ash. “We’ve talked a couple times on the phone, but I haven’t seen her in three days. Since the funeral.”

Alan frowned. “Why not?”

God, he’s going there. Between him and Coleen, there’s no hope for privacy. “We’ve been busy. Work and whatnot.”

“I can’t imagine the whatnot, but you should make a point to see her.” Alan’s date at the bar had turned and waved him back over. “Hate to tell you how to live your life and run, but yummy awaits.” He grinned, bowed his head slightly, and hurried off.

“You haven’t ended it with the human yet?” Coleen asked suspiciously.

“No, and to be clear, I never said I was going to.” Emma finished the last of her scotch, and reached in her purse for her wallet. “Just because it’s what you want to hear, and what you want to have happen, doesn’t mean either is true, Coleen.”

She laid two twenty dollar bills on the table. “I’m leaving. I need to be alone, and I can tell by your tone you’re ramping up for something akin to a lecture.” Emma stood. “And I’m not in the mood. Goodnight.” She didn’t wait for Coleen to respond, but suspected, based on the amused expression on the woman’s face, Coleen wasn’t the least bit deterred.

***

Ash was sitting on her sofa in a pair of gray workout shorts and a blue t-shirt. It was a little after six in the evening, and she had two days left until she was scheduled back at work. The time was ticking away at a snail’s pace. She could think of a hundred things to do, but the truth was she didn’t want to do anything. Sitting on her couch and feeling sorry for herself was about all she could muster. Self-pity wasn’t an emotion she indulged in very often, but given the events of the last few weeks, she thought now was as good a time as any.

It was ironic that every one of Ash’s cases were solved, but would never be closed. Ela was responsible for Paul Garrett’s death, and was herself dead by Rachel and Sara’s hand. Richard Dorsey had murdered Cris and four other officers, and had met an equally gruesome death. Taking stock of the carnage made her stomach cramp.

Ash looked at her phone that lay next to her on the sofa. With the exception of a few awkward text exchanges, she and Emma hadn’t spoken in four days. In spite of everything else, this left Ash feeling the worst. She knew she should let the possibility of being with Emma go. That in fact it was the more practical thing to do, but whenever she tried to imagine not seeing Emma, or worse, seeing her at work and having to pretend she didn’t care for her, Ash knew that wasn’t the answer.

She picked up the phone, and before she could think better of it, sent Emma a text. I have six Golden Girls episodes waiting to be watched. Interested? Ash put the phone down, and took a deep breath. She told herself she had cleared her side of the street, and whatever Emma did was on her.

After what was possibly the longest three minutes of Ash’s life, her phone buzzed. Should I bring beer?

Ash smiled, relief washing over her. It wasn’t everything, but it was a start. If you insist.

A minute later Emma responded. I insist. See you in about thirty minutes.

Ash got up and walked to her bedroom, she took her shorts and t-shirt off. Tying her hair up in a loose bun, she took a quick shower, and put a pair of jeans and a clean t-shirt on. There was a knock at the front door. Ash glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Emma was nearly fifteen minutes early.

Walking down the hall, Ash pulled the clip from her hair, allowing it to cascade down her back. Smiling, she opened the door. “You’re ea-”

Lara stood in front of her, a mischievous grin on her face. “Miss me?” Before Ash could slam the door shut, Lara lunged at her. The force of the impact sent Ash flying backward into her living room. Lara turned and shut the door. Flipping the deadbolt, she crouched next to Ash, who was struggling to catch her breath. “I love that I can still take your breath away.”

Lara grabbed Ash by the hair, and pulled her toward the back of the apartment. Ash gripped the woman’s forearm and dug her nails into the warm flesh. Undeterred, Lara continued dragging Ash into the bedroom. “It’s one of the many perks of being a shifter. We bleed like anyone else, but our pain threshold is through the roof, and we heal so quickly it’s hardly worth your effort.” She glanced down at the bloody scratch marks. “Feels like a paper cut.”

The shifter pulled Ash to her feet, and punched her straight in the stomach. Ash doubled over, a wave of nausea causing the room to spin. Dropping to her knees, Ash looked up at Lara. She noticed for the first time the dark circles under her eyes, and dullness of her hair and skin. She was aging at an accelerated rate, and it was beginning to show. “Lara, you don’t have to do this.”

The woman laughed. “That’s about as cliché as it gets, detective.” Lara drew her right arm back, and bringing it forward, slapped Ash across the left cheek, sending her crumpling to the ground. “I absolutely have to do this. That bitch vampire of yours has proven more difficult to flush out than I had thought.” Crouching next to Ash, Lara took her chin in her hand, and turned the woman’s head. “But you’re just the bait I need to spring the snare.”

Ash clenched her fist, and landed a left hook directly on Lara’s right jaw. Rolling under the shifter, Ash knocked her legs out from under her, causing her to fall backward. With lightning quick speed, Lara righted herself, and brought her knee down on Ash’s chest, pinning her to the floor. “I appreciate the effort, but it’s really in vain. I’m stronger and more agile than you can imagine. So, for your sake, go with it.”

Ash had no intention of going quietly. She lifted her hips off the floor, and fully extending her long legs, kicked up and back between Lara’s shoulder blades. Falling forward, Lara caught herself with both her hands outstretched. Ash took the opportunity to roll out from underneath the woman, and get to her knees. She reached into her closet. Knowing she didn’t have time to get to her gun in the locked safe, she pulled a softball bat from just inside the door, and holding it in both hands like a sword, stood up.

With speed reminiscent of Emma, Lara pushed up from the floor with her hands, and in a single movement was standing upright in front of Ash. She tore at her blouse and pants, and was undressed in short order. Her eyes were wide and any trace of color had disappeared from the irises, leaving a thin black band outlining them.

A sudden surge of blood rushed through Lara, and her olive skin turned a bright red. The woman hunched over, there was a series of loud cracking sounds as her shoulders and hips dislocated. A mild electrical charge filled the space, and Lara was gone.

Ash blinked several times, not believing what she was seeing. Where Dorsey shifting had taken several minutes, Lara had shifted into a large black leopard in only seconds. Ash took several steps back, the wall of her bedroom stopping her from retreating any further. A sensation of vertigo began to overtake her. Shaking her head, Ash was pulled back into the present when the leopard lunged at her.

Swinging the bat, Ash caught the large cat in the right shoulder. The animal hissed, and then a split second later, was on top of Ash. Pinned to the floor, Ash’s arms were trapped under the weight of the cat, rendering the bat useless. The animal’s eyes were a deep emerald green as it stared at her, fangs exposed. A hot stabbing pain tore through Ash’s shoulder and shot down her arm. The leopard jerked its head back, Ash’s blood and skin hanging from its mouth.

When Ash had been a young girl, her father and brothers had taken her deer hunting in west Texas for the first time. While hiking through the hills, she had fallen into a bed of cactus, and the pain of the piercing quills had spread across her back and brought her to tears. The burning of Lara’s bite was a thousand times more intense, and Ash cried out in pain. Her shoulder and neck were on fire, and the heat was spreading quickly across her chest, causing her to feel as if she were being suffocated.

The weight of the giant cat was gone, and Ash looked through her tear filled eyes trying to see where the woman had gone. The sound of shattering glass drew Ash’s attention to the bedroom window in time to see a long black tail disappear over the ledge. Ash tried to sit up, and her head throbbed as if it might explode. Collapsing back onto the floor, she was having difficulty breathing as her heart raced furiously in her chest.

The numbness began in her left arm, and rapidly spread throughout her entire body. She realized the bite had done more damage than the gash left in her shoulder. Something like venom was coursing through her body, and she could feel her lungs and heart beginning to fail.

***

Emma walked from the parking garage of Ash’s apartment complex, across the short pedestrian bridge and up the flight of stairs leading to Ash’s unit. She carried a six pack of 90 Dogfish IPA as she neared Ash’s door.

She had resigned herself to not having Ash in her life. The danger the relationship poised to Ash, and the inevitable pain awaiting Emma when Ash died had seemed like valid reasons to minimize their interactions. The reality was far less simple. Emma had been miserable the past few days without Ash. Her feelings for the woman hadn’t diminished. If anything, the absence had only intensified them.

Emma stopped ten feet from Ash’s front door. The scent of burnt leaves mixed with an earthy smell washed over her. She recognized it from when she had met Lara at the hospital. Emma listened carefully. Hearing a violent struggle coming from inside the apartment, she immediately dropped the beer, and charged through the door.

Arriving in Ash’s bedroom, Emma was met with a horrific sight. Ash lay bleeding on the floor, the white of her collarbone pushing through shredded muscle. Her body was rigid. Kneeling down next to the injured woman, Emma leaned over and smelled the massive, gaping wound in Ash’s shoulder. Recoiling, she gasped at the stench of the bite. The notoriously poisonous venom had already begun to eat away at the underlying muscle in Ash’s shoulder. The neurotoxins were coursing through Ash’s body, and Emma knew the woman’s heart could stop at any second.

Ash’s eyes were frozen in a blank stare, tears running down the side of her face, her body contorted as her muscles spasmed. Her lips had already begun to turn a light grayish-blue from the lack of oxygen. A strangled, wet sound emanated from her chest as she struggled to breathe.

The consequences of what needed to be done settled into Emma’s mind, turning her stomach. Left unchecked, the venom would kill Ash in minutes. If Emma interceded and gave Ash her blood, the woman she loved would live, but would become a shifter. She could allow her to bleed out, and turn her. The choices branched out in front of Emma, each covered in jagged thorns tapering to fine points.

The closest to human Emma could give Ash was a shifter. The necessity to feed on blood, human or otherwise would not be her burden as a shifter. Though the initial change would be exponentially more painful, ultimately, Ash could live something akin to a normal life as a shifter. Emma would not sit idle while this remarkable woman perished.

Running her thumb nail up the inside of her forearm, Emma opened her vein. The thick, red blood began to flow. Carefully lifting Ash’s head off the floor, Emma put her arm to Ash’s lips. “You’re going to be okay. This will help.” Emma’s eyes filled with blood stained tears, as Ash’s lips parted and the vampire’s blood began to run into her open mouth.

Ash’s body seized, and she cried out in pain. Emma listened carefully, and could hear the woman’s heart stutter, pause, and then begin beating in the familiar rapid repetition inherent to a shifter. Ash’s arms flew up, her hands claw like as she grabbed and clutched at Emma.

Pulling the agonized woman to her, Emma held her while rocking back and forth. Whimpers and moans escaped Ash as Emma listened to the snapping and stretching sounds emanating from her body. Her joints, tendons, bones and muscle were being manipulated as the change occurred. The wound on her shoulder was already healing, and the new skin looked red and swollen. Emma knew the next few hours would be the longest in Ash’s life.

***

Her entire body was vibrating. Shards of electricity ripped and tore through her arms and legs. Every joint was on fire. Ash wanted to cry out, but her throat was tight and her lungs wouldn’t work. A cool, thick liquid ran into her mouth, and she gagged from the bitterness. She was suddenly aware of Emma’s voice in her ear, clear and calm, telling her she was going to be okay.

Her ears were ringing, and then a screeching sound filled her head. Sharp stabbing points of pain pulsated through her body as the burning in her joints increased. Gasping for air, Ash thought she was going to die as sound, motion, and sight fell out of focus.

Involuntarily, Ash’s lungs suddenly relaxed and a massive breath of fresh air flooded her chest. She felt as if she was stumbling and tripping her way back from the brink, moving toward the light of the living. Desperate, Ash clung to the only certain thing she could feel. The coolness of Emma’s cheek pressed to hers focused Ash, and she willed herself forward.

Her body continued its slow burn for what seemed an eternity. Her skin felt raw as even the slightest movement of air across it triggered spasms of pain up and down her body. All the while, Emma continued to hold her, and reassure her.

“Ash, it’s almost over.” Emma’s voice was close to Ash’s ear. Her hand gently stroked the tender skin of her cheek.

There was stillness. The vibrations and tremors stopped. Ash thought about breathing, and her lungs listened. Opening her eyes, she saw Emma’s vivid blue ones looking down at her. Her mouth felt like sandpaper, and she desperately wanted a drink of water. As if reading her mind, Emma carefully moved Ash from her lap, quickly went to the bathroom sink, and returned with a glass of water.

Tilting the glass to Ash’s parched lips, Emma lifted her head.  “Slowly.”

Ash gulped at the water anyway, grabbing at Emma’s hands to steady the glass. Lying back, she wiped at her mouth. “Thank you.”

Emma smiled and reached under Ash, effortlessly lifting her from the floor, and carefully depositing her on the bed. “You should rest. What’s just happened is traumatic and violent for the body.”

Ash managed to sit up, her head spinning, forcing her to lie back down. “Jesus.” She pushed the palm of her hand against her right temple. “I feel like someone took a hacksaw to my skull, but oddly enough, I’m really hungry.”

Emma sat on the bed next to Ash. “Do you remember what happened?”

Ash looked down at the floor, her mind still feeling disjointed. “I - there was a knock at the door. I thought it was you so I didn’t bother to look through the peephole.” Ash struggled to recall the next part. “It - it was Lara. She attacked me, and-” She cringed. “She turned into a black leopard, and attacked me.” Ash frowned. “That sounds even stupider out loud than it did in my head.”

Chuckling, Emma reached for the light blanket at the foot of the bed. “Rest and then we can talk.”

Ash was feeling energized suddenly. She was so relieved to be alive, the idea of napping was out of the question. “I’m okay. I would prefer to talk with you now.” She took Emma’s hand in hers.

Emma looked at Ash nervously. “The venom from Lara’s bite was killing you. I had choices I wouldn’t envy anyone.”

She paused, trying to gauge Ash’s reaction. The woman sat perfectly still. “I could let you die. I could turn you into a vampire, or I could give you my blood which counteracts the venom, but allows for the shifter change to occur.” Emma watched Ash’s face closely. Her once reddish brown eyes were now nearly clear, one of the few outwardly visible signs of the change. Additionally, the woman’s hand was at least ten degrees warmer.  From now on, her body temperature would now range between one hundred and eight and one hundred and twelve.

“How is that possible?” Ash’s mind reeled with the information. She didn’t feel that different, so how could what Emma say be true?

Emma swallowed and took a deep breath. “Most shifters are born, because for a human to be turned they would need a vampire’s blood to survive the toxicity of the shifter’s bite.” She squeezed Ash’s hand reassuringly. “It so happened, you had a vampire around.”

Ash pulled her hand away from Emma’s and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, stood up. Her legs felt different. They were stronger, as if energy and strength were being harnessed and stored in the muscles and bones. “You’re telling me I can change into animals now?” Ash’s stomach growled and she crossed her arms over her midsection.

Emma nodded, and looked at the woman’s stomach. “Among other things, and get used to being hungry a lot.” She stood and took a breath through her nose. Ash’s scent had changed. The floral, salty undertones she had enjoyed before were still there, but now with the faint smell of burning leaves, and wet earth. It was intoxicating, and Emma was struggling to focus.

“Your metabolism has accelerated, and you will need to consume at least six to seven thousand calories a day to maintain your strength and weight.” Emma sighed. “You can also change into anything organic and approximately the same size as you. Though from what I have been told, plants are far more difficult than animals.” Emma pursed her lips. “I’ve hypothesized it has to do with the circulatory system variance. Yours is far more complex than a tree’s, and then there’s the beating of your heart.” The vampire looked up at the ceiling in concentration. “Plants are still, so the heartbeat would make maintaining the plant form very difficult.” She looked at Ash, who had turned to face her with an incredulous look on her face.

“Hold up. Are you telling me I can eat whatever I want?” Ash had thought she should be angry with Emma. No specific reason had manifested in her mind, but the situation - her life - had become exponentially more complicated, and she wanted to blame someone. In the end though, she couldn’t actually bring herself to be angry with the beautiful woman.

Emma grinned, relieved Ash wasn’t resentful of her choice. “That’s what you took from all that?”

Ash nodded enthusiastically. “I know you haven’t had to contend with the food question in a very long time, but speaking as a former chubby girl, this is the best news ever.”

Emma shook her head. “First, I can’t imagine you fat, and second - yes, eat whatever you would like, and a lot of it. Cholesterol, triglycerides, blood sugar - all things of the past.”

Ash looked around the bedroom. “I should be writing this down.”

Emma chuckled. “Yes, because sadly there isn’t a rule book, or as you so aptly put it, a Cliffs Notes version on how to be a shifter. So you’re stuck with me.”

As the thought of kissing Emma flickered across her mind, Ash’s legs moved independent of her will, and in a second she had pinned Emma to the bed, her lips hungrily kissing hers. Emma tasted like oranges and lavender, a low moan escaping her lips as Ash’s tongue ran along her upper lip. Her hand rubbed along the side of Emma’s breast and Ash felt warmth spreading through her abdomen.

As quickly as it had started, it ended. Emma pushed Ash away, and sprung from the bed, her back turned to the confused woman.

Ash felt a twinge of pain at the lost connection, and stood staring at Emma, who refused to turnaround. Ash’s knees felt like rubber from the surge of adrenaline, and her hands were shaking. She wasn’t sure she could take the few steps needed to close what seemed like a chasm between her and Emma. “Why did you stop?” The question was in Ash’s head, and before she could think better of it, spoken out loud.

Emma shook her head, and took a deep breath as she looked toward the ceiling. “I’m sorry. Our relationship was complicated enough before, but now it’s - it’s impossible.”

Ash bit her lower lip that still tingled from earlier. “What are you saying?”

Emma turned her head, but still wouldn’t face Ash. “Vampire and shifters can’t be together. It’s a recipe for dependency that I wouldn’t wish on you.” Her voice was raspy and strained.

“I don’t understand.” Ash reached out and put her hand on Emma’s shoulder. The woman tensed and moved away.

“I can already feel my control slipping around you. The way you smelled and tasted before was amazing, but now you permeate my entire body.” Emma turned around, her eyes glowed an iridescent blue. “I won’t feed on you, and you can never take my blood again.”

Ash shook her head. “Look, I appreciate why you swore off feeding on humans. What happened to you was beyond horrible, but technically I’m not a human anymore.” The phrasing seemed odd and clunky in Ash’s mouth.

Backing toward the door, Emma’s nostrils flared as she couldn’t resist the urge to breathe in Ash’s scent. “I can’t be certain I could stop once I started, and I don’t want our relationship to be about my obsession with your blood, and your need for mine to not age.”

Ash held her hands up in front of her. “Whoa. I never said -”

Emma’s brow arched. “Can you honestly say you wouldn’t be tempted as the years passed?” The fears she had before about Ash feeling obligated, or her feelings being exaggerated because of heightened emotions came rushing back.

Ash looked down as she considered the question. “I don’t see what difference it makes. I - we cared for each other before.” Ash reached for Emma’s hand, and felt a sharp stab of embarrassment when Emma pulled away.

Ash looked at the nervous woman in front of her. She wanted to tell Emma she loved her, and that she had loved her long before the chaos of the past two weeks, but the discomfort and misery she saw in the doctor’s eyes smothered her courage, and she held her tongue. “I don’t think we should be having this conversation right now.”

Emma nodded. “You’re right. We’re both strung a little thin.”

“Let’s take a few days and then we can have dinner.” Ash smiled, relieved Emma was willing to table the conversation. “In the meantime, can you give me the layman’s version of how I shift into a doe - a deer - a female deer?” The woman struggled not to laugh while delivering the joke.

Emma shook her head. “After everything, you’re still making fun of my movie choices?”

Ash grinned. “Low hanging fruit.”

Chapter 18

As Ash walked into her office for the first time in over a week, she finished her fourth breakfast taco that morning, and discarded the white wrapper in the waste basket near the entrance of the police station. She felt sweat beginning to form along her forehead, and she was nervous. Emma had objected to her returning to work so soon after the change. “Until you have complete control over it, shifts can occur during heightened states of anger, fear, or anxiety.” The concern in Emma’s voice had been palpable. “You haven’t even attempted a controlled shift yet.”

Ash was standing in her kitchen making five grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches with her phone on speaker. “I can’t become some creepy recluse that never leaves her apartment, and - honestly - I’m a little scared the shifting thing will hurt. There. I said it, and I’m a coward.”

There was a long pause, and when Emma finally spoke her voice was soft and consoling. “I know it can be scary, and the last thing I would want is to suggest something that might cause you pain, but I really think-”

Ash hated not being in the same room with her while they had these conversations. The need to be near Emma, to hold her and touch her, was verging on obsessive. “I’ll think about it. Look, I have to go. I’ve nearly burnt my sandwiches.” The two women said their goodbyes, and hung up.

Walking to the sofa with her sandwiches and a glass of Coke, Ash reflected on the past few days. She had spent the better part of her time researching online all the legends and myths around shifters. Over half of the information seemed completely made up to Ash, but there was helpful articles sprinkled throughout the dreck.

She was beginning to get a handle on the eating requirements too. What she had eaten before was fine, but she had to double or triple the portions. She no longer worried about diet soda versus regular soda, and baked versus fried chicken. She was going to have to reassess her food budget, though. A definite downside to being a shifter was going to be allocating funds from her shoe budget to her grocery budget.

She and Emma had talked daily, though Emma - much to Ash’s disappointment - had refused to return to her apartment, for fear she would lose control and hurt Ash. In that time, Ash had learned she now had an exceptionally robust immune system, and would never get another cold or the flu. Injuries would heal at an accelerated rate, and leave little to no scarring. Her eyesight was better than twenty-twenty, and though nowhere near as strong as a vampire, she was ten times stronger and more agile than a human.

Sitting down at her office desk, Ash wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her jacket. Shit, what’s wrong with me? She blamed her nerves on Emma’s cautionary tales about shifters turning at inopportune times, and all hell breaking loose.

“Haines. Nice to see you back.” Lieutenant Edwards stuck his head in the door, and greeted Ash with a smile.

“Thanks, lieutenant.” Ash looked directly at the man, to see if he noticed the change in her eye color. One of the more disturbing aspects of her recent transformation was the loss of pigment in her irises. From what she had read, the absence of color allowed her eyes to take on whatever color was appropriate for the animal she shifted into.

Fortunately, Ash had a pair of brown non-prescription enhancer contacts she had bought for a friend’s wedding a year ago. She hadn’t imagined at the time her vanity over photographing well would serve such an unusual purpose.

“Looks like you’ll be partnering with Lopez until a permanent assignment can be arranged.” Edwards nodded and left the office.

Alfred Lopez was a nice man in his early sixties. Less than a year from retirement after nearly twenty-five years with the department had made him a little less than eager to make a mark. His case load was usually light, and didn’t consist of anything more horrific than an occasional hit-and-run.

It was as good a time as any to reintroduce herself to Lopez. Getting up from her desk, Ash took her suit jacket off and hung it across the back of her chair. The higher body temperature was proving more difficult than anything to deal with. She worried how she would manage the South Texas summers when temperatures could easily reach one hundred and five.

Walking down the hallway, she took a left, and ran right into Alfred Lopez. The man, who was easily three inches taller than Ash, and outweighed her by over fifty pounds, hit Ash with a loud thud, and bounced back several steps. Ash was unfazed. “Christ, Haines. Sorry about that.” The embarrassed man put his hand out and leaned against the wall. “You scared the crap out of me.” His face was red, and he wiped nervously at the back of his neck.

“Sorry. Are you okay?” Ash was surprised the collision had hardly left a hair on her head out of place, but had clearly knocked the breath out of her new partner.

The older man nodded. “Yea.” Taking a deep breath, Lopez stood upright. “I was just coming to see you. Have you talked to Edwards yet?”

Ash nodded. “He just told me we would be partnered, and I was coming to see you.”

The still winded man smiled weakly. “Great minds, I guess.”

Ash smiled. “Guess so.”

Lopez looked at her for a second as if he wasn’t sure what to say. “Ah, look. I’m really sorry about Cris. He was a good cop, and I know the two of you were friends outside of work.”

A quick stab of grief shot through Ash, but she squelched it for fear she would start crying. “I appreciate that.” The two looked at each other for a few awkward seconds. Finally Ash cleared her throat. “So, do you want to meet and go over the case load?”

“Perfect, just let me use the men’s room, and I’ll come over to your office.” Not waiting for Ash to respond, Lopez walked down the hall, and disappeared around the corner.

Exhaling, Ash rolled her eyes. Excellent first impression, Haines.

“How are you doing, detective?” Emma’s melodic voice came from behind Ash.

Turning around, Ash couldn’t help but smile. Emma was standing in the hall wearing a black pencil skirt that hit just above her knees, with a fitted gray silk blouse hugging every one of her perfectly proportioned curves. The image of Emma naked on top of her from their one night together flashed through Ash’s mind, and she felt a surge of blood to her abdomen.

Emma frowned and lowered her voice. “Are you okay? You’re heart sounds like it’s about to come out of your chest.”

Ash swallowed hard, and felt a slight tickle in the back of her throat. “Yes, I was just-” She was embarrassed to tell the woman why her blood felt like it was boiling.

Emma put her hand on Ash’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go into your office and you can sit down.” A moment later, Emma was guiding Ash to her chair and closing the door behind her. “I warned you it was too soon.” Emma sat on the edge of Ash’s desk, looking at the dark haired woman closely.

Ash shook her head. “Man, I did not want to tell you this, but any embarrassment I might experience beats the hell out of your ‘I told you so’ speech.” She took a deep breath. “I haven’t seen you in a while, and you look really good.”

Exhaling through pursed lips, Ash forced herself to make eye contact with the beautiful blonde. “So - my mind jumped to - well to the other night and how incredibly hot you were.” Ash spoke the last part at record speed. “And that is why my heart was beating out of my chest.” She looked down at her desk, and began to move folders from left to right, and then back again. “For the love of God, please say something.”

Emma’s hands were on Ash’s shoulders, pulling her up out of the chair. The coolness of her lips pressed to the heat of Ash’s caused both women to moan simultaneously. Emma’s tongue pushed into Ash’s mouth, as her hand cupped the woman’s flushed cheek. The tips of her incisors scraped along Ash’s lower lip as the kiss deepened. After several seconds, Emma pulled her head back, but continued to hold Ash tightly to her. “Dinner tonight?”

Ash managed to nod, her perfect sight blurred by desire. “Eight?”

Emma grinned. “Perfect. My house.” She turned and walked out of the office. Her resolve to stay away from Ash was gone. The tether she had tried so desperately to sever with Ash, was tugging at her heart and mind to a point of pain. She could no longer repress the constant need to touch Ash, and she would not stifle the words of love and longing held captive in her throat.

***

Ash had muddled her way through the meeting with Lopez. She felt she had managed to sound reasonably intelligent, in spite of her mind constantly wandering to the kiss she and Emma had shared earlier.

Just as they were finishing the file review, Edwards quickly walked into the office as the two officers looked over files. “Lopez, Haines, make sure your vests are on. Reynolds and Douglas need a second team for a house raid. Suspect from that double homicide off of Flores Street this past summer. Uniforms are in route as well. No heroics, kids, just back-up.” He looked at Ash and winked as he handed over a slip of paper with the bust’s information on it.

Smiling, Ash stood up. “Ready? I can drive.” She stretched her arms over her head, her back popping loudly.

“You sound older than me, Haines.” Alfred walked to the coat rack in the corner of his office, and pulled the black Kevlar vest off its hanger. “I haven’t had this thing on in ages. I hope it still fits.”

The man began unbuttoning his white dress shirt, exposing a thick mat of graying chest hair. Ash turned her head. “I’ll meet you near the east entrance.” She quickly left the office, an amused expression on her face.

Lopez had insisted on driving, and Ash was in such a good mood about her date with Emma later that night, she decided to have the gender neutral talk with the man later. The man parked the car on a side street that ran parallel to the drug house. Andrew Reynolds and John Douglas were sitting in their parked Ford Crown Victoria, the passenger window rolled down because in spite of trying to quit no less than six times, Douglas still smoked like a chimney. “You know you can be written up for that, John?” Lopez smirked as he and Ash approached the car.

“Piss off Alfred.” The two men had worked together for over ten years, and their love, hate relationship was the stuff of legends. “How’d your last physical go there, buddy?” John opened the car door, and flicked the lit butt to Ash and Alfred’s right.

Ash immediately reached over with her foot, and crushed the butt into the concrete. Alfred tisked. “Nice John, littering to boot.”

Reynolds got out of the car and looked back and forth between Lopez and Douglas. “Have your monthlies finally synced up ladies? Because you’re both being bitches.” He caught Ash’s glare and his face turned a bright red. “Sorry Haines, I’m not-”

“Used to walking upright?” Ash jabbed. She had learned a long time ago this male bantering was fine to a point. She would give her colleagues a couple passes, but if it continued she’d report them to human resources without hesitation.

“Shit, Reynolds, she took care of that.” Douglas laughed, and reached into his jacket pocket for another cigarette. Looking at his watch, he swore under his breath. “No time for that.” The four officers congregated near the trunk of the vehicle, and clearly Douglas was in charge.

“Parole violator gave up a street dealer by the name of Javier Sanchez in exchange for a light sentence. We’ve been looking for this guy since the summer for questioning about a double homicide. The guy was last seen going into this house by a patrol car about an hour ago. At most there’s one other person in there with him, and we aren’t sure if there are weapons, so assume there are.” Douglas pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket. “Warrant is in place.” He looked at Lopez. “Does someone need to read it to you?”

Lopez rolled his eyes. “Such an asshole.”

Ash was getting irritated with the men, and wanted to get this over with. “Where are the uniformed officers?” Just as she asked the question, a patrol car pulled up.

Douglas smiled. “Ask and you shall receive.” After several more minutes of back and forth, it was agreed one uniformed officer would execute the tactical entry with the battering ram through the front door. Reynolds and Douglas would be first in, followed by Lopez and then Ash. The remaining uniformed officers would be stationed in the front and rear of the house.

Making their way along the wooden privacy fence to the right of the house, Ash was last in the line of officers as they came around to the front of the house, guns in hand. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the residential street was nearly deserted. Flanking either side of the cracked concrete walkway leading up to the small, bungalow style house, Ash fell in behind Douglas as they stood to the side of the front door.

Douglas pounded on the front door with his right fist. “Police! Javier Sanchez, we have a warrant for your arrest. Come out with your hands so we can see them!” The man paused the standard ten seconds, and when no response came, he nodded to the uniformed officer on the other side of the door. Immediately, the man stepped in front of the door. Battering ram in hand, he shifted his weight back, and then forward as the twenty-five pound ram slammed into the wooden front door.

Rushing into the house behind the other three officers, Ash felt a surge of heat course through her body, and something akin to static electricity work its way down from her head to her feet. She was trained to recognize surges of adrenaline and control her reactions to them, but this felt different and more intense. The dimly lit room looked as if it were expanding and contracting around her. She was having to work hard to regulate her breathing, and focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

A tickling started in the back of her throat, and worked its way into her inner ear. She opened and closed her jaw trying to abate the annoyance. Turning the corner into a small living room, a large black crowbar was being leveled directly at her. Ash watched in amazement as the bar and the short Hispanic man wielding it were moving in slow motion. She easily leaned back and avoided being struck.

Stepping forward and pivoting, Ash grabbed the weapon before the man could swing at her a second time. She kicked him in the back of his knee, bending his leg forward at an unnatural angle. Crying out in pain, the man crumpled to the floor. Ash reached for the plastic ties she carried in her back pocket, and quickly restrained the man’s wrists and ankles.

Hearing voices coming from the back of the house, she made her way down a short hall and into the kitchen. The room smelled of cooked meat and spoiled milk. “Haines!” Lopez’ voice came from the adjacent doorway in the kitchen.

“I’m here.” Her throat felt tight, and she was having trouble catching her breath. The static from earlier was more intense, and it was making her dizzy.

Lopez came around the corner, his gun holstered. “We got Sanchez.”

Ash swallowed several times before she could speak. “There’s another one in the front living room. I’ve restrained him.”

Lopez walked toward Ash and hesitantly put his hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay? You look really red.”

Ash shook her head. The tickle in her throat was moving into her chest. “I need some fresh air. You have this?”

The man nodded. “Of course.”

Ash turned, and walking through the utility room, found the back door. Before she opened the door, she announced her presence to the uniformed officer. The last thing she needed was to be mistaken for a perpetrator and shot. Stumbling to the side of the house, Ash was trying desperately not to panic. The excitement and anxiety of entering the house had pushed her to the edge of shifting. She reached into her back pocket, and pulled her phone out. Her hands were shaking so badly she couldn’t dial Emma’s number, though, and she stuffed the phone back in her pocket.

Sliding down the side of the house, Ash leaned her head back and took deep gulps of air. She saw something move to her right, and turning her head saw a large brown and black German Shepard staring at her through the chain link fence of the neighboring yard. A metallic taste coated her tongue, and her mouth went dry. She was suddenly on fire, and her skin felt like a thousand hot needles were pricking at her skin. Not caring who saw her at that point, Ash got to her knees and ripped and pulled at her clothes. The Kevlar vest and her bra were the last items to be flung to the ground, and then Ash stood up completely naked.

A series of pops echoed from her shoulders and hips. Looking down, Ash saw the ground drawing nearing even though she was certain she wasn’t falling. She heard her ribs and spine snapping, but couldn’t reconcile the sound to the fact she was experiencing no pain. Her vision blurred for a split second, and then she stood, not on two legs, but on four furry legs.

Meaning to cry out in shock, Ash was startled by the barking sound that emanated from her mouth. Turning her head, she looked behind her to see the long body of a dog covered in thick, coarse brown and black hair. Her head ached a little, and she was a dog, but otherwise she was unharmed by the shift. A faint whimper came from the other yard. The neighboring German Shepard backed away from the fence, and ran to hide in plastic igloo shaped dog house.

Taking a tentative step forward, Ash was surprised at how easily she coordinated four legs. Besides the physical changes, her hearing and sense of smell were incredibly astute. She could hear Douglas moving around in the house, but could also smell him. The odor of cigarettes and cheap cologne wafted over her. She lifted her head and sniffed at the air. Car exhaust and mowed grass were two of the many scents inundating her.

It occurred to her she needed to get out of there.  She had no idea how to shift back. Did she need to see a human, and like when she spotted the dog, the rest would happen naturally? Was this something that had to run its course? The only person she knew could help her was Emma, but the vampire’s house was on the other side of the city, and Ash was in no condition to drive. She pawed at her discarded slacks until her cell phone slid out.

She looked around for a place to hide her clothes. She was going to have a difficult enough time explaining her sudden absence. She didn’t need the added burden of explaining a pile of her discarded clothing. There was a narrow crawlspace under the house, and Ash spotted a small latched wooden door. She pushed the latch with her right-front paw, the door sprung open, and Ash picked up each item of clothing and stashed them in the crawlspace. Pushing the door shut with her forehead, she latched the door with her paw, and picked the cell phone up in her mouth.

Not wanting to risk being spotted by the police, Ash took a running jump at the chain link fence and easily cleared it. Landing in a back alley that ran behind the houses for the length of the block, she cautiously trotted in the general direction of Emma’s house. As she neared a trafficked intersection, she stood at the cross walk, waiting for the pedestrian signal to provide her safe passage. An elderly Asian woman with a metal cane walked up, and stood next to Ash.

“Are you lost puppy?” The woman’s voice was thin and wobbly.

Ash didn’t want to frighten the woman by barking at her, so she looked up at her, and then back at the light. Then something occurred to her. She lowered her head, and carefully let the phone slide from her mouth. Emma’s contact page was still displayed. If Ash could manage to slide the unlock icon over, maybe the woman would get the idea and call Emma about her lost dog.

Focusing all of her attention she put the tip of her paw on the phone, and after three tries, the screen unlocked. Ash looked up at the woman, and, careful not to yell at her, woofed quietly. The old woman squinted as she looked down at the large German Shepard. Seeing for the first time the cell phone lying on the sidewalk, the woman slowly bent down and picked it up.

Looking at the phone, and then back at the dog, she frowned. “Is this your owner?”

Ash bobbed her head up and down, and let out another quiet woof. Relief washed over her, as the woman pressed the screen of the phone. After a few seconds, she began speaking. “Ah, yes, I’m sorry to bother you, but I think I found your dog.”

Ash could hear Emma’s voice on the other end of the call. “Oh, I -” She knew Emma’s caller ID had popped up with her information, and it would only take Emma a second to realize what had happened. “Thank you, I was worried to death. Where are you and I can come get her?”

If dogs could cry, Ash would have started sobbing with relief. Instead, she waited patiently while the woman gave Emma her address, and then hung up. “Your owner sounds very nice. Will you follow me to my house and we can wait for her?”

Ash sat down, and barked quietly. “You’re a very smart dog.” The woman patted Ash on the head, and leaning on her cane slowly walked back the way she had come. A grateful German Shepard was following close behind.

***

“Thank you so much. I do wish you would let me give you something for your trouble.” Emma stood next to her car talking to the woman who remained on her front porch. Ash was sitting in the passenger seat, wondering if she was required to wear a seatbelt.

“Nonsense, she’s a beautiful dog, and so smart. It was no trouble” The woman’s name was Eun, and in spite of the circumstances, Emma’s good manners had meant she accepted a cup of tea from the Korean woman before taking her lost dog home.

During the twenty minutes the two women visited, Emma managed to fabricate a story about how Ash - she didn’t bother to change the name - was from a long line of show dogs. That, and extensive training, accounted for her remarkable intelligence. Eun was clearly grateful for the conversation, and tried to convince Emma to stay for an early dinner.

“I can’t, but thank you for the invitation.” Ash had sat anxiously at Emma’s side, wanting desperately to leave, and shift back to her human form.

Sitting in the car as Emma said her goodbyes, Ash was suddenly exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to sleep. She curled up in the seat, and was just beginning to doze off when Emma opened the driver’s door, and slid into the car. Without a word, she pressed the ignition button, and waving at Eun, drove away.

Not looking at Ash, she drove for several minutes, and then pulled the car into a Walgreens parking lot. Putting the car in park, Emma placed both her hands on the steering wheel, and squeezed it tightly. “I want you to know the only reason I don’t pull you to me, and hug you until you can’t breathe, is because of what people would think of a half-crazed-with-worry woman sitting in a parking lot clinging to her dog.”

Ash barked quietly and nudged Emma’s arm. The blonde woman put her hand to the side of Ash’s face. “Let’s get you back to my house, and we can figure out what to do.”

The rest of the drive was in a comfortable silence, as Emma was clearly thinking through what needed to happen for Ash to shift back, and Ash couldn’t speak. Pulling up to Emma’s house, Ash waited as Emma walked around and opened the door. Not having opposable thumbs limited her use of handles.

Jumping from the car, Ash bounded up to the front door, and sat while Emma got her purse out of the back seat and walked up to the house. Pressing the entry code into the lock, the door clicked and opened. Ash walked in and sat at the foot of the stairs. Emma shut and locked the door. Putting her purse on the small table next to the door, she looked at Ash for several seconds. “Are you house broken?”

Ash wanted to laugh, but evidently there was no equivalent for dogs. Instead she ran up to Emma, and put her front paws on the woman’s stomach. She barked several times, and then sat back down in front of the blonde woman.

“Let’s go into the study. I have an idea.” Emma opened the door to the room, Ash ran in, and jumped up on the sofa. Emma paced in front of her for nearly a minute. “One bark means yes, two means no. Got it?” Ash barked once.

“Great. Did you think about being a German Shepard?” Two barks. “Were you agitated, and it just happened?” Two barks.

Emma frowned. “Hmmm. Were you agitated and then you saw a German Shepard?” One bark. Emma smiled. “Okay then.”

She knelt down in front of Ash. “I need you to relax, close your eyes, and image you’re shrugging off a very heavy winter coat. It’s hot, and it feels very restrictive.”

Ash closed her eyes, and thought of the scene in the Christmas Story movie where Ralphie’s younger brother Randy has so many layers of clothing on that he can’t put his arms down. That scene always made her feel claustrophobic as a child, and thinking about it now forced heat to rise to her face.

A series of pinches and twinges shot across Ash’s abdomen. A flush of heat tickled the back of her neck and head, followed by a series of pops and cracking sounds. Her breath came in short spurts as her spine snapped and then aligned to bring Ash into an upright posture.

Opening her eyes slowly, Ash’s mouth felt dry. “Did it work?” The fact she spoke versus barked answered her question.

Emma was kneeling next to her, and took her warm hand in hers. “It did.” Smiling she sat down on the sofa next to a sweaty and naked Ash. “How do you feel?”

Ash shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “I guess okay. A little hungry, but -” She looked down at her body, her very human body. “But I’m none the worse for wear.”

“You certainly aren’t.” Emma smiled, and pulled Ash to her. “I was worried when I got the call, but of course you worked it out.” She held Ash at arms’ length and looked her over carefully.

Blushing from the nearness of Emma, Ash grinned shyly. “I’m okay.”

Emma grinned and leaning forward gently kissed Ash on the cheek. Sadness crossed over Ash’s eyes and Emma frowned. “What is it?”

Ash leaned back, a surge of desire and love had rushed through her, and unexpectedly she was feeling very exposed and uncertain. Reaching for a beige throw blanket draped over the back of the sofa, she quickly wrapped it around her shoulders as she inched back from Emma. As much as her body had changed over the past few days, Ash’s feelings for Emma had too.

She had come to terms with loving a woman so drastically different from herself that their experiences could never be reconciled, but what she had not known, what until this moment had eluded her, was the courage to put a voice to her feelings. “I love you.” The simple utterance belied the countless layers of meaning and nuance inherent in sharing your life, time, ideas, fears and hopes with someone.

Emma’s face was stoic as she looked at Ash carefully. Her eyes moved from the woman’s lips to her clear eyes as she slowly wrapped her cool hand around Ash’s bare ankle. “I love you too.” The words came in a sigh, as if a great weight had been lifted, followed by tremendous relief.

Ash reached for Emma’s hand, and brought the tips of her fingers to her lips. “I’ve loved you since before the change. I want you to know that.”

Emma smiled. “I know.” She had carried so much doubt with her regarding Ash, the woman’s feelings for her and the ambiguity of their relationship, that finally speaking the words filled Emma with more hope than she had known in decades. Biting her lower lip, Emma looked intently at Ash. “Me too.”

Ash leaned forward, and was kneeling on the sofa next to Emma. She shrugged the blanket off her shoulders, needing now to be bare and exposed with Emma. Her hands trembled as she reached the hem of Emma’s shirt, her knuckles brushing against the smoothness of her stomach as she lifted the shirt up and over the woman’s head.

Emma reached around, and unhooked the clasp of her black bra, letting it fall to the floor. Ash pushed Emma back onto the sofa, both women gasped as the coolness of Emma’s skin met the warmth of Ash’s. Ash moved her mouth along the column of Emma’s neck, sucking and kissing her earlobe, eliciting a low moan from her.

Leaning back, Ash gently stroked Emma’s full lips with her thumb, pushing her upper lip up to reveal an elongated incisor. Ash smiled as she bent over to take Emma’s bottom lip between her teeth, biting and sucking eagerly. Emma ran her hands down Ash’s toned back, and pulled the other woman closer. Ash’s heart was pounding furiously in her chest as intense heat and tightness grew in the pit of her stomach.

Leaning back, Ash straddled Emma as she quickly unbuttoned her jeans. She pulled them and her black panties off, dropping the garments to the floor. Looking down at Emma, Ash felt a rush of love and longing swirl in her. “You’re beautiful.” Emma’s eyes glowed an iridescent blue, accenting the thin web of blue veins that spidered along her pale neck and jaw line.

Emma sat up, and turning her head, pressed her cheek to the hollow between Ash’s breasts. She marveled at the warmth radiating off the woman, accompanied by her intoxicating scent. Cupping the side of Ash’s firm breast, Emma ran her tongue in slow circles around her erect nipple. Ash gasped and pressed Emma closer to her.

Running her fingers through the silkiness of Emma’s hair, Ash bit her lower lip as her hips began to rock back and forth independent of her will. “Em?” The beautiful woman under her looked up. “Can we go to bed?”

Emma smiled, and ran her palm over Ash’s breast before bringing both hands to rest on the woman’s hips. “Absolutely.”

Grasping Ash’s bottom, Emma effortlessly stood up. Ash released her legs from around her waist, and slowly slid down the front of Emma, absorbing the smoothness and coolness of her skin. Emma took Ash’s hand, and the two women walked up the stairs and into the bedroom.

Emma turned the lights on, and seeing the woman’s perfect body again, Ash couldn’t help but smile. “See something funny, detective?” Emma asked as she walked toward Ash with a smirk on her face.

“Funny isn’t the word.” Ash put her hands on Emma’s waist and pulled her tightly against her. “Perfect. Flawless. Gorgeous. But certainly not funny.”

Emma bent her head, and began gently sucking the jugular vein that pulsed furiously in Ash’s throat. Tilting her head back, Ash moaned. “Amazing. I almost forgot amazing.” She grabbed Emma by the back of the neck, and pressed her closer.

Feeling her resolve to not feed on Ash waning, Emma turned her attentions to Ash’s shoulder and then across her clavicle. Ash’s hands were on her shoulders, and pushing her toward the bed. Emma fell backward as her legs touched the side of the bed, and a split second later Ash was on top of her. The woman’s warm, wet mouth found Emma’s nipple and began to slowly and deliberately suck and pull at the cool, taut flesh.

A low growl escaped Emma before she could stifle it, but Ash didn’t seem to notice or mind as she slowly kissed her way down the flat plane of Emma’s stomach, and across her jutting hip bones. Pushing her legs apart, Ash ran her hand up the inside of Emma’s thigh. Without warning, she entered her with two fingers.

“Fuck.” Emma gasped, clenched her teeth, and clutched at Ash’s back. Ash smiled at the uncharacteristic expletive, and ignored the stab of pain from Emma’s nails digging into her shoulders. She began a slow, steady rhythm as she moved her fingers in and out of Emma.

Spreading her legs to afford Ash more access, Emma’s hips moved in time with Ash’s thrusts. She bit her lower lip to stifle a loud growl when she felt Ash’s mouth on her clit. She grabbed at the back of Ash’s head, pushing her further into her.

Emma tightened around Ash’s fingers, and Ash breathed deep, her own desire growing as she took in the lavender and vanilla scents radiating from the vampire. She couldn’t get close enough to Emma, and reached under her hip to pull her nearer. The possessive feeling surprised Ash, but every part of her wanted to clasp and be held inside Emma.

Short electrical pulses shot through Emma, causing her to thrust her hips upward faster. Her fingers tangled in Ash’s dark tresses, her mouth continuing to pleasure Emma as her fingers pushed further into her. Emma arched her back, a strangled cry escaping her lips as a sudden and intense orgasm shot through her body. Taking a deep breath, Emma caught the scent of blood. She looked down at Ash and could see the remnants of scratches healing along her shoulders. Unlike human blood, Ash’s blood smelled of something indescribably earthy and sweet that permeated the vampire’s body.

Emma reached down, and gently pulled Ash up. Finding her mouth, she kissed her deeply as they shifted, and Ash stretched out under Emma. “Are you okay?” Emma ran a tentative finger across one of the scratches. The redness was already fading, the blood was dried, and the urge to lap at it pushed at the back of her throat.

Ash grinned as she nodded, pushing Emma’s head down. She sighed contentedly when Emma’s mouth found her breast. Emma began to suck Ash’s hardened nipple into her cool mouth while lightly biting down, the tip of her incisor scraping across the small bud. Ash whimpered and pushed her hips against Emma.

Emma slid her hand between Ash’s parted thighs. Her long, slender finger slid into Ash and her thumb began to brush across her clit in slow, methodical strokes. Ash moaned, and tilted her hips upward as she pulled Emma down on top of her before shifting her balance, and rolling the two of them over.

Now straddling Emma, Ash was on her knees and held herself steady with one hand on Emma’s shoulder as she pushed her hips down. Tossing her head back, Ash closed her eyes, lost in the myriad of sensations washing over her. Emma thrust her finger deeper into Ash, pushing her thumb harder against her clit as the woman began to tighten and quiver around her.

“Emma.” Ash cried out in a strangled, guttural voice as she felt the tension in her body constrict and then rapidly expand with her climax. Collapsing on top of Emma, she buried her face in the woman’s neck, and clung to her.

Emma wrapped her arms around Ash, and held her close. The feel of the other woman’s rapidly beating heart was reverberating through her. The smell of sex and blood permeated the room, and the burning in the back of her throat that Emma had grown accustomed to flared. She was loath to leave Ash, and break the moment of intimacy, but she was afraid in a momentary loss of control she might hurt her beloved.

“Ash, honey?” Emma whispered the words into the side of Ash’s face.

Lifting her head, her eyes unfocused, Ash grinned. “Honey?” She kissed Emma on the cheek. “I believe that is our first term of endearment.” She tightened her arms around Emma.

Emma pressed her lips to Ash’s warm forehead, and had to force herself not to lick at the thin perspiration that had formed there during their love making. “You smell amazing.” She hesitated. “Too amazing.” She was holding her breath to minimize the intoxicating scents from further chipping away at her will power.

Ash’s head popped up. “Oh. I-” She rolled to Emma’s side. “Do whatever it is you do when you-” Ash blushed at her own vernacular inadequacies, and made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “You know when this sort of thing happens.”

Emma got up, and walked toward the bathroom. “This hasn’t happened before.”

“Sorry?” Ash sat up.

Standing in the doorway of the bathroom, and feeling steadier with the distance between her and Ash, Emma managed a smile. “I haven’t been with a lot of people, and never with a shifter.”

“Thank god. I mean-” Ash hesitated. “I had sort of worried about being compared to nearly two centuries of experience.”

Emma laughed. “I grant you, I have been far less amorous than the average vampire, but even if I had thoroughly sowed my wild oats, I assure you there would be absolutely nothing for you to worry about.”

Squelching the urge to rush toward Emma and take her in her arms, Ash reached over, and pulled the dark blue comforter back. “Hurry up in there.”

Emma grinned, walked into the bathroom, closed and locked the door. She turned the shower on as hot as the tap would allow, and waited as steam filled the room. Stepping into the spray, she let the nearly boiling water wash over and off of her, and with it most of Ash’s scent. Taking deep breaths in through her nose, the smell of blood and sex slowly diminished, diluted by the steam.

Emma turned the shower off, and toweled off. Wiping at the fogged up mirror with her cool hand, she looked at her reflection. Her eyes were still vivid, but her teeth had retracted.

Eager to get back to Ash, Emma walked into the bedroom, smiling as quiet snores came from the bed. Sliding into bed, she reached for the sleeping woman next to her. Ash curled up next to Emma, laying her head on the woman’s bare shoulder. Muttering, Ash draped her arm across Emma’s waist. “I’m sorry ahead of time for the drool.”

Smiling, Emma kissed the top of Ash’s head. For the first time in her existence she was in love. She felt as if her heart had restarted after nearly two centuries of atrophy. She was shaken, vulnerable, and hopelessly and happily lost to the woman beside her. Regardless of the complications, she would try for whatever joy and elation she and Ash might have, and she wouldn’t give that up.

Chapter 19

Ash sat on the sofa in Emma’s study wearing a pair of gray cotton shorts and a navy blue t-shirt she had found in the dresser upstairs. Emma had woken her shortly after dawn to tell her she was going out for groceries.

“I didn’t want you waking up alone.” Emma had nuzzled the back of Ash’s warm neck as she spoke.

Turning over Ash grinned, her eyes still closed with sleep. “Hmmm. Okay, can we have waffles?”

Emma chuckled. “Sure, anything you want.”

Ash took Emma’s hand in hers. “I want you to come back to bed.” She pulled the woman toward her.

“But then who will make the waffles?” Emma stretched out next to Ash.

Ash opened her eyes for the first time, and looked at Emma. “You’re dressed.”

“Astute observation, detective. I wasn’t planning on going to the grocery naked after all.” Emma teased.

Ash turned on her side to face Emma, and propped her head up on her arm. “You make things so difficult.” She ran her hand under Emma’s t-shirt. “Now I have to undress you all over again.”

Emma frowned. “Is that such a chore?”

Smiling, Ash rested her hand on Emma’s breast. “The effort-to-reward ratio is entirely in my favor.” She leaned over and kissed Emma’s neck.

Leaning back to afford Ash better access, Emma practically purred. “Not entirely.”

Sipping the orange juice she had poured herself, a flurry of heat skittered through Ash as she remember her and Emma’s lovemaking both last night and that morning. She had known being with Emma would be intense because they loved each other, but she hadn’t imagined how completely fulfilling and exciting sex with the beautiful blonde would be.

Retrieving the television remote from the end table, Ash remembered Emma had Rachel Maddow and NewsHour on her DVR. She settled in to catch up on her news and current events while she waited for Emma. When she turned the television on it was tuned to the Animal Planet channel. Ash watched as the title shot scrolled across the center of the screen, Dinosaurs and Other Extinct Animals.

The lock on the front door clicked, and a second later Emma stepped into the doorway of the study with three canvas grocery bags in hand. She smiled broadly as she looked at Ash. “Hey.”

Ash looked up, her smile broadening as, once again, she remembered the events of the night before. “Hi. Need help?” She looked at the bags.

Emma shook her head. “Nope. Twenty minutes and I’ll have your waffles ready.” She looked at the television and raised her eyebrow. “What are you watching?”

Ash looked back at the television, and the caption under a sketch of a brown and black dinosaur read Aralosaurus. The animal looked to be about the size of an elephant with a head reminiscent of a duck, except for the rows of teeth protruding from its bill-like mouth. “Inspiration?”

Emma laughed. “Good luck.” The woman disappeared down the hall. Ash turned the volume up on the television, and focused her attention as a male narrator explained the anatomy of the Aralosaurus.

After ten minutes Ash paused the live feed on a sketch of the Aralosaurus’ front claws. She put the remote down, and sat up on the edge of the sofa. Extending her hand out in front of her, Ash concentrated on the television, and then on her hand. The tickling in the back of her throat that had plagued her during the raid began to slowly build and spread through her chest and down her arm.

Staring intently at the television, Ash smelled leaves burning as her mouth went dry. Looking at her hand she watched in amazement as her index finger and middle finger merged, the skin expanding to fill the gap between the two digits. Her skin pickled and turned a bright red before taking on the texture of scales, the color shifting to dark brown. Her breath came in short bursts as her heart pounded in her ear.

A series of cracks and pops filled the room as Ash’s thumb extended and the palm of her hand widened. Her nail beds felt itchy as thick, yellowish claws rapidly grew outward. Ash only allowed herself to visualize the claw and no other aspect of the dinosaur. As a result, the thickening of her skin and the expansion of muscle mass went no further than the middle of her forearm.

Holding her claw-like hand up in front of her, she took slow and steady breaths, amazed at what she had done. “Emma!”

A moment later an alarmed Emma stood in the study, her eyes wide with shock. “How did you do that?”

Ash, her eyes still fixed on the claw, shrugged. “I just focused, and then it happened.”

Emma walked over, and looked closely at the appendage. “I’ve only heard of natural born shifters being able to perform partial shifts.” She reached out and ran her finger down the course skin. “That’s amazing.”

Ash turned her hand back and forth. Other than the added weight of the increased muscles and tendons, the claw felt completely natural to her. “I’ve always prided myself on being a quick study.”

Emma tisked. “Of course you make a joke.” The woman poked at the extended claw. “Can you change it back?”

Ash closed her eyes and imagined pulling a pair of wet latex gloves off her hand. Her hand felts like it had been submerged in hot water, and then seconds later, she opened her eyes to see her hand had returned to normal. She flexed her fingers and rubbed her forearm. “It’s happening quicker now.”

Emma nodded, and took Ash’s hand in hers. “What else can you do?”

Ash chewed nervously at the inside of her cheek, her mind running through a list of animals. She stood up, and undressed. Emma fought the urge to pull the woman to her, and practically had to sit on her hands to stop from reaching for Ash. The room filled with the odor of burning leaves, and dirt. A series of cracks and pops emanated from Ash’s lower back and hips. Her knees bent forward, and her calves and thighs lengthened as her height increased by nearly four inches.

Emma stared in amazement. “You’ve - you’re a female Satyr.”

Ash arched her eyebrow. “A what?”

Emma cleared her throat. “It’s a creature from Greek mythology.  Usually they’re male. The torso is human and the lower portion of the body is goat-like.”

Ash looked down at her body. She stood balanced on two limbs reminiscent of the two hind legs of a goat. A fine hair covered the limbs as they tapered down to black, split hooves. “I was visualizing one of the characters from Aiden’s video games.”

Emma stood, and walked in a circle around Ash. “I’ve never heard of a shifter being able to become imaginary animals.” She shook her head. “The possibilities are limitless.” Crouching next to Ash, she ran her hand down the taut muscles of Ash’s calf. “It makes sense though, as long as the anatomy has some basis in reality.” She stood and rubbed the back of her neck. “Can you walk?”

Ash easily took several steps forward. Her center of gravity felt lower because of how her knees now jutted out in front of her, but she was able to adjust quickly. “It’s a little odd, but nothing I couldn’t get used to.” To make her point, she took several quick strides into the hall, and back again. With the longer gait, she cleared the twenty feet and back in three bounds.

Emma nodded. “Impressive.” She continued to be in awe of the woman she loved. Initially her beauty and intelligence had attracted her. After knowing Ash though, Emma felt confident adding creativeness and ingenuity to the list.

Ash stretched her left leg out in front of her, and in a few seconds both legs were back to their human form as Ash rotated at her waist, a series of pops followed as the lower part of her spinal cord aligned. “What’s that smell?” Ash turned her head toward the hall.

Emma’s eyes widened. “Damnit! The waffles.” She vanished from the study instantly.

Ash put on her clothes and followed at a more leisurely pace. Rounding the corner, the kitchen was full of smoke as Emma opened both of the French doors leading to the back yard. “I blame you.”

Ash grabbed a hand towel and began fanning the smoke toward the open door. “I blame me too.” She smirked as Emma unplugged the waffle iron, and moved it next to the sink.

Prying the appliance open, burnt waffle clung to the griddle. “Lovely.” Emma ran a sponge under the tap, and began the task of cleaning the griddle. “Add another thirty minutes to that breakfast order.” She frowned as a glob of burnt waffle fell from the sponge into the sink.

With most of the smoke gone, Ash closed the doors, and hung the towel back up. Walking up behind Emma, she wrapped her arms around the woman’s waist. “You’re very sexy when you’re not practically perfect in every way.”

Emma shook her head. “I’ve never claimed to be perfect.” She used her index finger and pried the hot batter from the waffle press. Ash cringed for a second, forgetting Emma couldn’t be burned.

“Hence the practically qualifier.” Ash kissed Emma on the side of the neck.

“Don’t distract me further, or you’ll never get fed.” Emma teased, and pushed Ash back.

Ash hopped up on a stool and put her elbows on the counter top, content to watch Emma. The comfort inherent in domestic chores felt just as intimate as what she and Emma had shared in the bedroom upstairs. Resting her chin in the palm of her hand, Ash marveled at how fortunate she felt being with this remarkable person.

“You’re staring Ash.” Emma toweled the now clean griddle dry, and plugged it back in.

Ash grinned. “Am I?”

Emma opened the refrigerator and took three eggs from a brown carton. “I’m not complaining, just making an observation.” She hesitated as she laid the last of the eggs on the counter. “I need you to do something for me.”

Ash lifted her head, the sudden nervousness in Emma’s tone concerned her. “Of course.”

“We need to go see Coleen. She knows about us, but she doesn’t know about you becoming a shifter.” Emma cracked one of the eggs into a large white porcelain mixing bowl.

“I don’t see what business it is of hers.” Ash leaned back on the stool, her hands laid flat on the granite counter in front of her.

Emma cracked the last of the eggs into the bowl, and using a wooden spoon, quickly mixed the batter. Wiping her hands on the towel next to the sink, she slowly turned around. “She’s a friend, and if she finds out through other channels -” The woman paused, her eyes fixed on the floor. “Let’s just say she would be very angry.”

The tag line from the nineteen seventies television show The Hulk flashed through Ash’s mind. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry. “Is it important to you then?” Ash asked.

Emma ladled waffle batter onto the griddle, and turned around to face the dark haired woman. “Yes, it is - she is.”

Ash felt a twinge of jealousy skitter through her chest, and she hated herself for it. Hopefully she and Emma had many more years together, and she had to get over the fact that Emma had a very long and complicated relationship with Coleen. That had nothing to do with the two of them. “Okay.” She forced a smile and sliding off the stool, walked around the island and hugged Emma.

The hug quickly intensified when Ash’s lips pressed firmly to Emma’s, and her hand wandered up to the woman’s firm breast. Emma pulled back, and smiling at the mischievous grin on Ash’s face, shook her head. “No, no, no. This is the last of my waffle batter.”

***

Ash’s heart raced as she and Emma drove up Coleen’s driveway. Emma reached over from the driver’s seat, and took the nervous woman’s hand. “It’s going to be fine.”

The tentativeness in Emma’s voice didn’t give Ash a lot of confidence. She imagined this is what it would be like to be introduced to someone’s parents, but with the added risk of having the parent possibly tear your throat out. “Of course it will be. I mean Coleen wasn’t thrilled with me and you being together when I was human, so I’m sure she will be absolutely thrilled that now I’m a vampire equivalent of a forbidden fruit.”

Emma chuckled. “Forbidden fruit. Really, honey?”

Ash pouted and slouched in the seat. “You know what I mean.”

Rayven greeted them just outside the door as they walked up, her stare set on Ash. “Em - what’s that doing here?”

Ash stopped dead in her tracks. “Excuse me?” She squared her shoulders.

“I said -” Before Rayven could repeat the insult, Coleen’s voice chimed in from the doorway.

“What you said was rude. Let them come up, Ray.” Coleen turned and disappeared into the house.

Emma and Ash looked at one another, and then waited. After several seconds Rayven stepped slightly to the left, forcing Ash’s shoulder to graze hers as the two women passed. “Lamb to the slaughter.” The dark haired vampire ran her tongue along her full red lips.

Ash stopped and turned to face the vampire. “What is your problem?”

Emma put her hand on Ash’s shoulder. “Forget it. I promise you it’s not worth it.” She pulled Ash by the arm toward the house.

Once inside, Ash shrugged Emma’s hand off her arm. “Seriously, what is her issue? We’ve never even met.”

Emma took Ash’s hand, and led her toward the garden. “Rayven and Coleen have been companions for over thirty years, and because of that a lot of Coleen’s biases have become Rayven’s.” The woman stopped, and taking Ash’s other hand, faced her. “Coleen believes very strongly that vampires and shifters have no place in each other’s lives.” Her gaze darted to the floor. “And up until - well until you - I felt the same.”

A sharp exhale came from Ash. “But you don’t - you can’t still think?”

Pulling Ash to her, Emma kissed the woman firmly. “I love you, and that’s all that matters to me now.”

“Touching, Em.” The two women turned to see Coleen standing in a stone archway leading to the garden. “Now, are you coming back or not?”

Emma and Ash, shoulder to shoulder, walked toward the garden. Ash had the distinct impression a death march might be more fun than what she was about to endure. “She hates me.”

Emma smiled. “More than likely.”

Ash looked at Emma. “You could at least lie to me.”

Emma squeezed her hand. “You’re too smart for that.”

Huffing, Ash shook her head. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

They walked into the garden. In spite of her trepidation, Ash was in awe of her surroundings. The garden’s vegetation was lush and a large, empty, stone fountain sat in the center of the space. Ash lifted her head up, looking at the foliage laden canopy of the garden. The diffused light cast shadows throughout the space, so even though it was midafternoon, the area was completely shaded.

“Please sit down.” Coleen was dressed in a long, navy blue cotton skirt that went down to her bare feet, hugging her perfectly round hips and backside. A cream colored cotton wrap top clung to her breasts, and her long dark hair was pinned up in a loose bun. Ash loathed that she found this woman attractive, but reminded herself that Emma cared for her very much. In that case, there must be something redeeming about her.

“Thank you.” Emma acknowledged Coleen’s invitation and the three women took their seats at a round wrought iron patio table.

“Would you like some tea, or scotch?” Coleen asked the latter of Emma.

Ash nodded. “Tea with sugar would be great. Thank you.” Looking at the surprised expression on Coleen’s face, she realized the offer was to be polite, and not intended to actually be executed. “Or -nothing is great too.” She looked at Emma, but couldn’t tell what her lover was thinking as her eyes were still and focused on Coleen.

“Ash, you smell different.” Coleen mused. “If I had to take a guess I would venture to say -”

“Stop it.” Emma interrupted the woman before she could continue with her sarcasm. “I don’t want this Coleen. I don’t want games, and banter that amuses you and hurts me.”

Coleen leaned back in the wrought iron chair, and crossed her legs. “Then let’s dispense with the pleasantries.”

“That was pleasant?” Ash muttered before she could stop herself.

Coleen leaned forward, and glared at the woman. “You are not welcome here. The only reason I tolerate your existence in this space is because of my history with, and affinity for Emma.” The woman’s eyes began to glow an eerie blue. “But on your own, you are less than nothing to me.” She leaned back, and crossed her arms over her chest.

Sitting in stunned silence, Ash was torn between livid and being petrified by the venom in Coleen’s voice. What she did know, what years of dealing with grief stricken loved ones and guilty liars had taught her, was Coleen’s fervent anger was masking something. No doubt, the woman felt strongly about the vampire, shifter dynamic, but to be this enraged took true devotion - and love.

The realization that Coleen was in love with Emma, that for all her coolness and cunning she had lost her heart to a woman she could not have, lessened Ash’s animosity and cast the angry woman across the table from her in a new light.

Emma shifted in her seat, and put her hand on Ash’s knee. “Coleen, I don’t want to lose our friendship over this, but please know I will always choose Ash over you.”

Coleen scoffed. “You’ve said it yourself, Em, a vampire-shifter relationship is a perversion.” The woman watched Ash carefully to see if she had struck a nerve, but Ash sat perfectly still refusing to let this hateful woman know how her words had cut through her.

“I know what I said in the past, but Ash didn’t ask for this.” Emma pleaded with Coleen. “There are exceptions to every rule, and I can tell you in no uncertain terms, I will never take her blood and she will never have mine.”

Coleen started to speak, but Emma raised her hand. “Wait, let me finish. You know -” Emma leaned forward, her eyes filling with red tears. “You know when I say I will never feed on her, that I mean it to the very center of who I am.”

Coleen’s eyes softened and she reached across the table for Emma’s hand. “I am only thinking of your well-being. Why would you want to live with this temptation until she dies?”

The frankness of the conversation and the casual way Coleen talked about Ash as if she wasn’t there, had begun to wear thin with the woman. Whatever her and Emma’s history, or her feelings for Emma, she was going too far.

Ash had promised herself she would leave most of the talking to Emma, but her self-respect was pushing her to defend herself and Emma. “Sorry to interrupt, but since I can hear you two, I wondered if I could maybe interject something?” Not waiting for a response, Ash continued. “Putting aside the casual way you talk about my death, Coleen, I am really struggling to see how any of this is your business.”

Ash could see Emma visibly tense next to her as Coleen stood. “You’ve known Emma for half a second. Even if you live to be a hundred, you would only have known her for one second of her existence.” Coleen put her hands on the table, and leaned toward Ash. “I will be here when you are dirt on the sole of a shoe.”

“You go too far, Coleen.” Emma stood and Ash followed suit. “As much as I value and need our friendship, I’m not doing this with you for the next sixty years.” She turned and walked toward the house, and then stopped and faced Coleen. “I love you.”

Ash looked at Emma, and realized she understood Coleen’s feelings for her perhaps better than any of them. Because of that, the pained look on her face tugged at Ash’s heart, and she took Emma’s hand in hers.

Emma looked at Ash and smiled reassuringly, and then looked at Coleen, who remained standing rigidly next to the table. “I love you, but I don’t owe you anything more than that.” Emma took a tentative step backward. “I certainly don’t owe you my happiness.”

Perhaps for the first time in her nearly three thousand year existence, Coleen was rendered speechless as Emma and Ash left the garden, and walked out the front door.

***

The drive back to Emma’s house had been in silence. Ash didn’t want to pressure her to talk about what had transpired between her and Coleen before she was ready. Walking into the entry hall of her house, Emma put her purse down on the table next to the door, and without a word, walked toward the kitchen.

Ash hesitated, not sure if she should follow, or if Emma needed time alone. Deciding to at least stay accessible should she need her, Ash walked toward the kitchen where Emma stood at the island with Glenlivet in a glass tumbler.

Chewing on a piece of ice, Emma shook her head. “I never drank as a human, and now I can’t even get drunk, but I understand situations like this often call for drunken stupors.” She looked at the nearly empty glass, and shrugged. “Can’t be helped.”

Ash picked up the bottle of liquor and poured Emma another glass. “Don’t you give up, don’t you do that - you’re better than that.” She smirked at the woman who couldn’t help but laugh.

“Gosh, did that suck.” Emma sat on a stool.

Ash smiled at the informality of her phrasing, and sat on the stool next to her. She wanted to ask the obvious question, but wasn’t sure if this was the right time. “Em, ah -”

Emma looked at her, and reached out to gently lay her cool hand on Ash’s shoulder. “I’ve known for decades, but we’ve hardly talked about it.”

Ash covered Emma’s hand with hers. “Why not?”

Taking another drink, Emma shrugged. “What was the point? I don’t love her like that, and she knew it. Why risk the friendship?” Taking a deep breath, Emma emptied the glass.

“Why don’t you love her like that?” Ash wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.

Emma poured another glass of Glenlivet, and took a long drink before speaking. “Simply put, Coleen is too old for me.” She looked at Ash’s confused expression and smiled. “She has no interest in still being part of the larger world around her. She is entirely vampire, and wants only to be with other vampires. I - obviously - don’t want that kind of one dimensional existence.”

What Emma said made perfect sense to Ash. “Did you ever try with her?”

Emma nodded, and put her glass down on the counter. “That’s why she left for Europe. It was the only time we spoke openly about her feelings for me, and it was then that I explained to her what I needed to continue living.” The woman shrugged. “We couldn’t reconcile our differences; so she left.”

“But you’re in each other’s lives now.” Ash wished she was a scotch drinker.

Emma tapped her thumb nail on the side of her glass. “Coleen seems only to relate to humanity in terms of their wars and atrocities. Every time humans were behaving badly, Coleen was there with her converts.” Sighing Emma finished the last of her drink, the oak and spice flavors coating her throat. “There was a slight shift in her after spending time in Vietnam in the late sixties. She seemed to need something calmer, less violent; so she found me.”

“You make her better.” Ash mused.

Emma looked at Ash for several seconds, her eyes still. “I don’t want that responsibility.” Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. “It hardly mattered in the end.”

Ash frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean all those years with awkward glances and affections not being spoken to because of fear - and we’ve still lost each other.”

“I’m sorry.” It was all Ash could think to say.

Emma managed a slight smile, and got up. Rinsing her glass in the sink, she turned to face Ash. “I’m going to be gone tonight.”

Ash felt a second of panic course through her. “Okay. Is everything alright?”

Emma nodded, walked over, and turned the stool Ash sat on so they were facing. “I need to feed. With everything that’s happened, it’s been well over a week.”

Ash took Emma’s face in her hands, and pressed her lips to the woman’s. It wasn’t a kiss intended to arouse, but one meant to reaffirm her commitment to this wonderful woman. “I’ll miss you.”

Laying her head on Ash’s shoulder, Emma wrapped her arms around her waist. “I wish I could wait. I don’t want to leave you, but-”

Leaning back, Ash shook her head. “No worries. Call me when you get back, and we can have dinner.” Ash grinned. “Speaking of - can we order a pizza?” She glanced down. “Or two?”

Emma laughed. “Pepperoni?”

Ash nodded enthusiastically. “Extra pepperoni.”

***

The sun had just slipped below the horizon as Emma stepped out of her car. She had driven fifty miles north of San Antonio, into the Hill Country. Every time she hunted she would park her car at the small rest stop off of IH-10, and after putting a quarter mile or more between her and the highway, she would begin her run into the wilderness.

Tonight she hesitated as she walked around the hood of her car. As much as she loved Coleen, she missed her more. It had only been hours since their falling out and already Emma felt the loss. Her body felt tense, and on edge as if she was coiled tight like a spring. Then a good run and kill is exactly what you need.

She forced herself forward, and then into a full on sprint up a steep, rocky hill. Stopping at the top of the incline, she lifted her head and took a deep breath. The musky scent of a coyote wafted along the breeze from the west. Emma launched herself off the ledge and dropping nearly thirty feet, hit the ground and continued her run toward the prey.

Movement along the tree lines to her left and her right drew her attention from the hunt. A surge of adrenaline coursed through her as she caught the scent of a lycan. Scaling a sheer rock wall, Emma perched on her haunches along a ledge. Lifting her head up, she took a deep breath in through her nose.

She instantly registered the smell wasn’t a single lycan, but at least five lycans. Before she could pivot and drop from the ledge, a massive weight slammed into her backside. Emma fell to the ground below, managing to land on her feet, and turning to face her attackers.

A loud rumbling came from behind her. Emma quickly pivoted and was struck by a wall of coarse hair and hardened muscle and bone. A second later she landed on her back and in spite of her efforts to get up, she was unable to move as an oppressive weight bore down on her chest, arms, and legs.

Long, sharp teeth bit at her shoulders, wrists, and calves. The toughness of her skin resisted most of the bites, but the pressure snapped her bones and left her arms and legs useless. Having not fed recently, she wasn’t as strong as she otherwise would be, nor was she healing as quickly.

Emma turned her head and, craning her neck as far to the left as she could, took hold of the lycan’s flank and sunk her teeth in. The animal yelped as Emma tossed her head to the right, flinging the animal several feet, where it landed with a thud. Gnashing and ripping with her teeth at anything she could get a hold of, Emma thrashed and pulled against her attackers.

Her struggles were rendered moot when a silver cord was wrapped around her throat, and a second cord roped around her wrists. The last thing Emma saw before a black hood was pulled over her head was the glow of ten red eyes flanking her on every side.

Chapter 20

“A buck-fifty for your thoughts.” Alan’s voice broke into Ash’s musings.

“What?” Ash leaned back in her chair. “A buck-fifty, is that the phrase?”

“I’ve adjusted it for inflation.” Alan took a drink of his lemonade. “What is wrong with you anyway? I wouldn’t have invited you to lunch if I knew you were suicidal.”

Ash had agreed to have lunch with Alan at Willie’s Grill and Icehouse. Not having heard from Emma since she left the night before to hunt, she needed the distraction, and she missed Alan. “I’m not suicidal.” She took a bite of her chili bacon cheeseburger. “Clinically depressed, but not suicidal.”

“Or PMS has taken hold of you, my friend.” Alan watched as Ash took a bite of an onion ring, and chased it with a long pull from her chocolate milkshake. “Way to put that food between you and those feelings.”

Popping another onion ring in her mouth, Ash shrugged. “Chauvinist. You assume if a woman’s upset she must be premenstrual.”

Alan smirked. “I call it like I see it, friend.”

“Well, for your information you’re wrong.” Ash wanted to tell Alan everything. She needed to confide in someone about the absolute cluster her life had been for the past two weeks, and how at the same time she had found the woman she was going to spend her life with. She decided the latter was, ironically, the safest topic. “Emma and I are together now.”

Alan choked on his lemonade, and wiping at his chin with a napkin scowled at Ash. “Never while I’m drinking, and shame on you for burying your lead. When? Why? How?” He shook his head. “Strike the how - too much information.”

Ash shook her head, and in spite of being worried about Emma, couldn’t help but smile. “About a week ago, and because we’re in love.”

Alan’s smile was so broad he practically beamed. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so happy for you.”

“I’m happy for me too.” Ash was happy, but she also wished Emma would call her. It was after noon, and she hadn’t responded to any of the text messages Ash had sent. Looking at her watch, she wiped her grease laden hands with a napkin. “I have to get back to work, but can we have drinks Saturday night?”

Alan reached across the table and grabbed Ash’s hand. “Not so fast. If you’ve found the love of your life, why so glum?”

Ash winced. She had hoped he wouldn’t notice that. “Work is a bit of a bitch right now. My cases are going terrible and my boss is not happy.” Again, the easiness in which she lied to her dearest friend made the massive lunch Ash had just consumed do a quick flip in her stomach.

Alan narrowed his eyes, and pulled his hand back from Ash’s. “I don’t believe you, but clearly you don’t want to confide in me at this time. So I will permit you this deception, and call you on your shit later.”

Ash scoffed. “Thanks, Dr. Phil.” She leaned across the table, and kissed her friend on the cheek. “Text me the information for Saturday.” They said their goodbyes, and Ash walked to her Jeep. Once inside the car, she pulled her phone from her back pant pocket, and not seeing any messages from Emma felt a nervous twinge in her chest.

Where the hell is she? Ash looked at her watch again. She was running late, that hadn’t been a ruse to get away from Alan’s prying questions. So going to Emma’s house was not an option. On top of that, she didn’t want to be that person who shows up at her girlfriend’s house demanding to know why she hasn’t called.

On the other hand, her and Emma’s relationship wasn’t exactly traditional. How may women wait at home for their partner to get back from hunting wild animals and killing them with their teeth and bare hands? Even in Texas, the odds weren’t good.

Ash executed a U-turn and punched a number into her phone, and a few seconds later Alfred Lopez answered. “Hey, Lopez, I’m running about twenty minutes behind.”

The man was clearly eating something himself as he took several seconds to answer as chewing sounds filled the cabin of Ash’s Jeep. “That’s fine. Do you want to meet at the Medical Examiner’s building then? Say about forty-five minutes?”

Ash and Alfred were scheduled to meet with Dr. Rooney, who had examined the bones found in Government Canyon. She was interested to see the doctor’s findings considering, to the best of her knowledge, the man wasn’t part of any coverup. “Perfect. Thanks Alfred.”

Ash hung up and in spite of her misgivings, drove to Emma’s house. Punching in the entry code, she pushed the large wooden door open. “Hello? Em?” She hesitated before entering. Even though Emma had insisted on giving her the code to the house, and that Ash could come and go as she pleased, the relationship was still new. Being in Emma’s house without her felt unsettling.

Walking down the hall toward the kitchen, Ash noted the absolute silence that permeated the house. Emma wasn’t there, and everything in the kitchen and study was exactly how they had left it the previous evening before parting company.

Hurrying out to her Jeep, Ash had less than twenty minutes to get downtown and meet Lopez. She called Emma’s phone again, and it went straight to voicemail. She hated herself for thinking it, but wondered if Emma had gone to Coleen’s to make amends. Though she seemed resigned to their parting last night, Ash knew the split was wearing on her lover, and she wouldn’t begrudge her trying to make it right after having some time to think through it.

Ash’s mind began to race. But if she went to work things out with Coleen, then why not call and tell me that? Why is her phone going straight to voicemail? What if she realized how much Coleen meant to her, and now…

Ash stopped herself. Maybe it is PMS. She trusted Emma, and their feelings for one another. Ash exhaled loudly, and took a left out of Emma’s neighborhood instead of the right that would have taken her downtown.

Inspect what you expect. The motto of one of her instructors at the police academy popped into her head. She hated that man, and immediately felt awful for essentially checking up on Emma. At the same time, she knew something wasn’t right, and whatever that might be, the cop in her wouldn’t let it lie. She dialed her partner again to tell him he was on his own with the M.E.

***

“Do you really think I’m going to let you in?” Rayven’s sultry voice crackled over the intercom at the gate to Coleen’s house.

“I had hoped Rayven, yes.” Ash rolled her eyes.

“Hope is a four letter word, shifter.” The woman’s tone was flat.

“Look, can you at least tell me if Emma is here?” She didn’t want to have this conversation. She resented that now Rayven knew she had no idea where her girlfriend was.

There was a long pause, and then a click. “I couldn’t say.”

Ash flung the door of her Jeep open, nearly hitting the intercom box. “Fuck this.” She walked to the ten foot tall gate, and scanned the top of the structure. The gate was iron, and the bars were spaced three inches apart in vertical rows. About a foot from the top of the gate was a thicker, more ornate horizontal bar that ran the length of the gate.

Remembering her days as an all-state high jumper, Ash paced six steps back from the gate.  Taking a running start, she planted her right foot on the stucco wall the hinges of the gate were mounted into, and grabbing a vertical bar, catapulted herself up and over the top of the gate, using the horizontal bar for the leverage she needed to clear the top of the gate.

Landing on her haunches on the other side of the gate, Ash stood up and looked up at the top of the gate. Holy shit, that was cool. Her elation was short lived as a pair of cold hands grabbed her by the shoulders and in mere seconds had drug her the four hundred feet toward the house, depositing her in a heap on the door step.

Ash rolled to her stomach, and using her arms, pushed herself straight up to her feet. Rayven stood in front of her, teeth bared. Her usually black eyes had taken on a lighter, swirling gray color. “Thank you.” The woman hissed.

Ash cocked her head to the side. “And you’re thankful because?”

Rayven smiled, the veins in her neck standing out. “For giving me an excuse to kill you.”

Refusing to be intimidated, Ash squared her shoulders and clenched her fists. “Are you the type of woman who needs excuses for what she wants?” Ash winked at the seething vampire. “Tragic, Rayven.”

Rayven twisted her head to the right, her neck popping. Unlike the slow motion movements of the assailant during the raid, the rapid speed of Rayven’s lunging toward Ash happened at only a slightly slower rate. This afforded Ash a second to side step the vampire’s charge, sending Rayven speeding past her. The woman quickly righted herself, and had Ash pinned to the side of the house a split second later, her teeth snapping at Ash’s throat while she clawed at the shifter’s arms and shoulders.

“Rayven! Enough!” Coleen’s voice boomed from the doorway.

Rayven hesitated, the wild look in her eyes clearing for a moment, before she lunged at Ash’s throat again. Coleen closed the space between them instantly, and grabbing Rayven by her hair, threw her against the opposite wall of the entryway, where the vampire fell to the ground.

“Control yourself.” Coleen knelt over her companion, securing her to the ground with a hand on either shoulder. “I know she smells delicious, but we don’t feed on shifters.” The woman spoke as if she was soothing a child.

Rayven struggled, her eyes still fixed on Ash who stood against the wall rubbing her bruised throat, the scratches on her shoulders and arms already healing. The vampire stopped breathing, and closed her eyes. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes, and looked at Coleen, her expression softening. “I’m sorry. I only meant to expel her.”

Coleen smiled, and slowly removed her hands from Rayven’s shoulders. “It’s okay. You’ve never been around them, you wouldn’t know.” She stood and extended her hand to help the other woman up. She gently stroked the anxious vampire’s cheek. “I’m not angry, but I think you should leave while she and I talk.”

Rayven nodded, and leaned in, placing a light kiss on Coleen’s lips. “Thank you.” A blink of an eye, and she was gone.

Coleen sighed, and turned to face Ash. “After all that, I suppose it would be rude to not invite you in.” The woman walked into the house without looking at Ash.

More determined than ever, Ash didn’t hesitate to follow Coleen into the house. The woman led them down a hall and into a large library. Looking around at the immense collection, Ash saw what she knew must be a near priceless first edition of Herman Melville’s Moby Dick open on a wooden podium. “Better to sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunk Christian.”

Coleen turned, the look on her face unreadable. “What did you say?”

Ash nodded toward the bookshelf. “Your copy of Moby Dick. That’s one of my favorite quotes.”

The corners of Coleen’s mouth turned up slightly as she suppressed a smile. “Sit.” Ash frowned, refusing to be ordered. “Please have a seat.”

Nodding, Ash sat in a leather Chesterfield chair nearest the door should she need to make a quick exit. Leaning back and crossing her legs, she watched Coleen closely as the woman sat in the chair opposite her. “Let’s not draw this out. What do you want?”

“Ash.” The shifter stated.

Coleen’s brow arched. “Excuse me.”

“My name is Ash, and at some point you didn’t completely despise me. In fact, if memory serves, you flirted with me a little at Blue Box.”

Coleen shifted in her chair and sneered. “I don’t think-”

Ash executed the most charming smile she could manage. “I kinda think you were flirting, Coleen.”

The woman considered Ash for several seconds. “Maybe.”

Ash suspected that in spite of Coleen’s crunchy exterior, she wasn’t a complete monster. Perhaps given the recent emotional outpouring with Emma, and their subsequent falling out, the vampire might soften a bit. It would be a win-win for Ash if she could find out what happened to Emma, and maybe start the reconciliation process between Emma and her dear friend.

Clearing her throat, Ash uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. She had learned after many interviews with suspects that being hostile rarely got you anywhere. Opening her mind and her posture would make the likelihood of success with Coleen greater. “I’m worried about Emma. She went hunting last night, and hasn’t returned. She isn’t answering her phone either.”

Coleen’s eyes narrowed. “And you think she’s here?”

Ash nodded. She had to be a little vulnerable with Coleen if she expected the woman to return the favor. “I did.”

Coleen smirked. “Why would she have come here after the exchange we had yesterday?”

Ash knew Coleen was trying to gain the upper hand in the conversation, and she was willing to concede some control to move forward. “She loves you, and regardless of what was said and why, I know she missed you before we got down the driveway.”

The stoic expression on Coleen’s face faltered, and the muscles in her jaw clenched. “Then let her say that.”

Ash smiled. “I’m sure she will, but the fact I haven’t heard from her, and neither have you, leads me to believe something has gone wrong for her.” She swallowed the lump in her throat that formed whenever she thought of something bad happening to Emma.

Coleen got up, and walked over to the large mahogany desk that sat near the center of the room. Her back was to Ash as she placed her hands on the desk, and looked down. “I hate that you know this about me.”

It took a second for Ash to realize what the woman was talking about. “There’s no shame in loving someone, Coleen.” She didn’t know what to say except what she personally believed. “I don’t really know anything about your life, but the fact Emma loves you means that - no matter how many millennium have passed - you haven’t lost your humanity.”

Lifting her head, Coleen faced Ash. “You should know, we’re never going to be friends.” She leaned against the desk. “Besides my absolute disdain for your kind, I could never abide anyone who challenges me for Emma’s affections.”

Ash didn’t like the direction the conversation was going, and forced herself to let Coleen finish. “But I don’t want to be without Emma, so if that means you and I have to find some peace with one another, then so be it.”

Ash’s shoulders relaxed, and she exhaled. “Thank you - I think.”

Coleen smiled, and walked back to the chair. “Now, where do we think my dearest friend, and - and your partner - has wandered off to?”

***

“I’m worried you’re not driving fast enough, Coleen.” Ash clutched the leather handle above the passenger door of the vampire’s metallic gray Mercedes CI65. Glancing at the speedometer, Ash cringed to see they were speeding up IH-10 at over a hundred miles an hour.

“Is that sarcasm?” Coleen was remarkably relaxed considering she was maneuvering the car in and out of traffic.

“Ah - yes.” Ash tugged on her seatbelt for the third time to ensure it was secure.

“Do you want to get there or not?” Coleen smirked, her hands gripping the metal and leather steering wheel.

“Yes, with the caveat of alive. Getting there alive.” Ash took slow breaths in and out.

Coleen laughed shortly as she veered off the highway and onto the bypass road. It was nearly midnight, and after stopping just north of San Antonio to search Emma’s usual hunting grounds, Coleen had caught the scent of lycans, and if there had been any doubt in her mind before, she was now completely convinced her friend was in danger.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Ash asked, as the lights of the city faded, and the terrain became increasingly rural and rocky.

“Emma mentioned an abandoned factory or plant north of the city that Ela was doing what you might call business with the lycans out of.” Coleen cut the wheel to steer the car around a bend in the road, and then onto a dirt road. The tires of the car spun as gravel peppered the vehicle’s undercarriage. “I’ve hunted in this area, and remember an abandoned quarry about three miles further. We can start there.”

Minutes later, Coleen slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a sudden halt. Ash looked around. All she saw were trees and rocks. “Where is it?”

Coleen opened the door, and gracefully slid out of the car, and was standing in front of the vehicle in a second. Ash rolled her eyes as she got out of the car. Show off.

“The quarry is about a half mile up the road.” She looked Ash up and down. “Can you keep up?”

Ash wanted to say yes, but knew better. Even with the added speed and agility being a shifter afforded her, she was nowhere near as fast as a vampire. Coleen knew this too, and was making a point about her superior speed. “We won’t arrive at the same time - obviously - but before I make the effort, do you smell anything?”

Coleen grinned, and lifting her head, taking a deep breath in through her nose. “The place reeks of lycan, and-” She turned her head slightly. “Shifter.”

Coleen looked at Ash. “Anyone you know?” Shaking her head, Ash bent down and took her black Cole Haan heels off. “What are you doing?” Coleen asked.

Walking barefoot back to the passenger side of the Mercedes, Ash put her heels on the floor board of Coleen’s car. “I’m not traipsing through the countryside in four hundred dollar shoes.”

Coleen laughed, and then quickly squelched the outburst. “I’ll jog, so you can keep up then?”

“Thanks.” Ash worked to control her naturally competitive nature since she knew there was no way she could outrun the woman. “Can I have a head start?”

“You can’t mean that.” Coleen bantered as she began running up the rocky hill leading into the quarry.

“Damnit.” Ash rolled her eyes as she began charging up the hill at a full run. The blood surged into her leg muscles, and her lungs took in large gulps of air to sustain her. She moved up the hill at a pace far faster than anything she could have run as a human, and still managed to arrive to a smug Coleen standing overlooking a massive quarry stretching out in front of them.

Ash put her hand up when the vampire opened her mouth to speak. “Don’t.”

Coleen grinned and turned toward the huge hole in the ground. Dug out in stages, the quarry was at least five hundred feet deep, and the yellowish limestone walls descended like giant stairs into the earth.

“There are at least three lycans near the central processing line adjacent to the conveyors and their support trusses.” The vampire turned to see Ash looking at her with an amused expression. “I have a lot of time to read.”

Ash nodded, the technical description reminding her of Emma. “Then we need to take care of them first, and then find Emma.”

Coleen shook her head. “No. The lycans will kill you.” The woman crouched down. “Your cousins are vicious, and would make short work of you.” Squinting, Coleen scanned the complex. “I’ll draw them out. While I dispense with them, you’ll need to wind your way through the trusses.” She pointed to the tall steel structure. “The shifter is somewhere in there, presumably with Emma.”

Considering the options, Ash agreed with Coleen’s plan, but remembering Emma and Dorsey’s altercation in her living room she had to ask the obvious question. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you going to be able to manage three - maybe more - lycan?”

The vampire stood up and looked at Ash with a faint smile on her face. “I’m two thousand, seven hundred, and thirty eight years old. And though we are incredibly strong in our first few decades, vampires over time, like Glenlivet’s 1940 Generations whiskey, mellow - and get stronger - with age.”

Ash’s eyes widened. Emma had alluded to Coleen’s age, but to hear the exact number was humbling. “I’m not much of a scotch drinker, but I get the analogy.”

Coleen’s eyes began to glow an intense blue as she tied her hair back in a loose knot. “Follow behind me, and wait until I’ve dispatched all but two of the lycan. Otherwise, you risk the chance one of them breaking away and following you to Emma.”

The realization of the fact she was going to be responsible for handling Lara, and ultimately freeing Emma, sunk in. Ash felt her heart begin to race and her palms start to sweat. Her mouth was going dry, and that familiar tickle started in the back of her throat.

“Hey!” Coleen’s voice rang in her years. “None of that.” She took Ash by the shoulders. “You need the element of surprise. If you go in there already shifted, Lara will be able to one-up you, and make short work of you.” The woman stared intently at Ash. “Got it?”

Swallowing hard, Ash nodded. “I’ll do my part.”

Coleen squeezed her shoulders reassuringly. Ash didn’t fool herself to think the consideration was for her. Rather, Coleen needed Ash if she was going to save Emma. From what Emma had said, Lara would be very well equipped to dispense with a vampire, even one as old as Coleen. Not only was it strategically practical that Ash face Lara, it was also a necessity.

Turning toward the quarry, Coleen stepped off the rocky ledge, and silently dropped the seventy feet to the shallowest level of the excavated site. Looking down the sheer wall, into the darkness, Ash chewed nervously at the inside of her cheek. Thinking of Emma, she mustered her courage, and took a step out into the void. Absorbing the impact of landing on the rock ledge below, Ash’s legs bent effortlessly, and then she immediately sprung into a standing position.

Her eyes had involuntarily closed, she slowly opened them, and looked around. Again, holy shit, that was cool.

She looked over the next ledge, and watched as Coleen easily navigated the last three drops until she came to rest on the floor of the quarry. Ash followed suit, stopping on the last ledge, and watching as Coleen advanced into the infrastructure of the complex.

Crouching behind an iron column, Coleen knew she had only a few seconds before the lycans caught her scent. Looking around the column, and then quickly taking cover again, the ancient vampire grinned, her incisors extended nearly an inch past her upper lip. Five. There are five of them. Excellent.

She stepped out from behind the column, and in a single lunge, covered the fifty feet between her and the nearest lycan. Scaling the creature’s back, she squeezed with her knees, effectively breaking the animal’s ribs. Grabbing the lycan’s top jaw, she pulled back. A loud sucking sound filled the space as the top half of the head was severed from the lower half.

Dropping to the ground in a crouched position, Coleen scanned the remaining four lycans as they charged toward her. Lowering her shoulder, she sprang forward, hitting the smallest of the four squarely in the stomach. The creature was thrown nearly twenty feet backward by the impact, and Coleen launched herself up into the air before landing in the center of the lycan’s chest.

Balling up her fist, she punched through the rock-like sternum of the animal, grabbed its pounding heart, and ripped it free of its chest. Crushing the organ in her hand, Coleen flung it to the side just as the three remaining lycan descended upon her.

The largest of the lycan, clamped its massive jaw down on Coleen’s forearm, its teeth vibrating in its head as the vampire’s steel like bone resisted breaking. While the animal attempted to rip through her arm, Coleen lifted the animal up off the ground with the very limb it was attempting to shred, and in three quick strikes, she slammed the creature repeatedly to the ground, effectively dislodging it from her arm.

Using the other two lycans as leverage, Coleen pushed off their shoulders and slid several feet back. Free of the cluster of mashing and snarling teeth, the vampire pushed up off the ground, and stood, shoulders squared, hands dripping with lycan blood. “You’re making this entirely too easy.” Her voice was a low, menacing growl, as she charged forward, reveling in the carnage she was inflicting.

Chapter 21

In awe of Coleen’s speed and strength, Ash crouched behind a steel beam, waiting for the moment she would wind her way through the large metal structure to where Lara and Emma were. Seeing Coleen kill the third lycan by severing its head, Ash took off in a sprint. Weaving in and out of the metal trusses that supported an elaborate conveyor belt system overhead, the shifter came to a full stop, her eyes wide with shock at what she was seeing.

Emma hung upside down from her ankles. They had been run through with a two inch thick silver rod, attached to the trusses by a long metal chain. Her hands were bound behind her back, and three silver cords wrapped around her waist and upper arms. Her hair hung loosely, nearly touching the ground. A silver hypodermic needle had been plunged into her neck just behind her right ear, and was attached to a long rubber tube that led to a large cylinder shaped clear plastic container. The container was nearly half full with Emma’s blood.

Emma’s usually pale skin had taken on a grayish hue, and looked as thin as tissue paper, the blue veins pushed towards the surface. With the exception of her blinking eyes, there were no signs of life in her body as she hung motionless. Ash forced back the bile that rose to the back of her throat. Seeing Emma in such a state sickened and enraged her.

Lara picked at her nails with the blood stained silver blade of a three inch long knife, as she turned to face Ash. “You and your vampire friend should work on the element of surprise.” She looked at Ash carefully, her eyes colorless. “I could hear you coming from a mile away, and that ruckus with the lycans - Jesus, you’ll wake the dead.” The woman sneered. “Pun intended.”

Ash looked from Lara to Emma, and back to the shifter. The luster in her hair had returned, and the dark circles under her eyes were gone. She had clearly already drunk Emma’s blood. The idea of the woman touching Emma, much less feeding on her, triggered a surge of possessiveness and anger Ash struggled to control. “This has gone far enough, Lara.” She managed to speak in a low, even tone.

Lara shook her head, and slid the knife into the back pocket of her jeans. “Hardly.” She looked up at the night sky and took a deep breath. “By the way, welcome to the family.” The shifter winked at Ash, causing the woman’s skin to crawl.

“We’re not family, Lara. You’re a crazy bitch who’s about to come to a sudden and violent end.” Ash managed to sound calm as she explained Lara’s fate to her.

Lara laughed. “Very convincing, detective, but considering what I’ve had to go through to put this little soiree together, I’m not going anywhere.” She pushed Emma’s leg, causing the vampire to begin swaying back and forth like a pendulum. “Once Ela was ended, I had to organize the lycans - no easy task when you’re dealing with a pack of idiots that think only of fucking and eating.” She sighed. “Then I had to find a vampire, and believe me, they don’t grow on trees.”

Ash slowly inched closer to the two women. “Did it occur to you there might be a vampire, like Ela, who is willing to - well, share?”

Lara grinned as she shook her head. “Do you know about me?” Ash cautiously shook her head. “I was born in a godforsaken village in Mexico, surrounded by ignorant, wretched, hateful people who under the guise of doing God’s will, shackled me in the cellar of a church for twelve years because, after much prayer, their God had told them I was the devil.” The woman’s nostrils flared as she spoke. “God is love, my ass!” The shifter’s voice filled the space, shrill and broken.

Ash took a step back, sensing the situation was spiraling downward quickly. “I can’t imagine what that was like.” She was surprised, that in spite of everything, she truly did feel sorry for Lara. Her entire life had been dictated by one circumstance or another, but never truly her own.

Lara glared at Ash. “Stop!” The woman took a deep breath, and steadied herself. “Don’t pretend to care. Don’t you dare.” The shifter crouched down next to Emma and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head up. “For all of her shortcomings, Ela never pretended to care. She was always honest about what she wanted from me and why.” Tears pooled in the woman’s eyes. “She never bothered to ask what I wanted.” Shaking Emma’s head back and forth Lara raised her voice. “You’re such a fool, Ash. You think she’ll take care of you, that she’ll love you?” Lara squared her shoulders. “You’re candy to her. Something sweet, but nonessential.”

“I’m sorry Ela treated you badly. Not all vampires are like that.” Ash forced her eyes from Emma and glared at Lara.

Twisting Emma’s head toward Ash, Lara looked at the vampire. “You’ve fooled her, but you don’t fool me.” Lara took the knife from her pocket, lifted the blade and slowly ran it down Emma’s cheek. A thin stream of blood came from the cut as Emma clenched her teeth, stifling a cry.

Lara ran her tongue up Emma’s cheek, lapping at the blood. “She’s older than Ela was. Tastes –” Lara smacked her lips together and ran her tongue along her lower lip. “Tastes like vanilla and -” She pulled the side of the blade along her tongue. “Don’t tell me, wait – lavender.”

Ash stood still. She refused to give the woman the satisfaction of knowing what she was doing to Emma was killing her to watch. Leveling her gaze at the shifter, Ash’s voice came in a low, guttural growl. “You’re not going to touch her again.”

Lara smirked. “But I will. A little animal blood every week or so, and you would be amazed how easy these things are to maintain.” Lara took a step toward Ash. “It doesn’t give them any real strength, but it keeps the blood flowing.” The enthusiasm in Lara’s voice as she described Emma’s torturous and agonizing fate, brought tears to Ash’s eyes that she fought furiously to squelch.

Lara turned her head to the right, and then back to the left, her shoulders stretching with a series of pops. “Now - come and stop me.” She raised her hands, and there was a series of loud cracks as her fingers extended and elongated into the razor sharp claws of a Komodo Dragon, the skin to the middle of her forearm becoming black, coarse and scaly.

Ash stretched and flexed her fingers and arms out to her side. Pulling the desired image into her mind’s eye, she felt a spark of electricity shoot through her as the bones of her hands cracked and the joints dislocated. A second later, her hands had become oversized talons. The skin was thick and yellowish, and her nails were long and black.

Lara’s brow arched, and a surprised expression shot across her face. “You’ve been practicing.” Before Ash could respond, the woman lunged at her. Ash dropped to her knees, but the claws of Lara’s right hand ripped into the flesh of Ash’s shoulder. Spinning on her knees, Ash pushed up, and was back on her feet. The tear in her shoulder was burning, but already beginning to heal.

Running toward Lara at full speed, Ash swung the left and then the right talon at the woman’s torso. The long, black nails of Ash’s right talon dug into Lara’s left side. Ash immediately kicked at the woman’s right knee, a loud snap echoed through the night air as the shifter’s knee buckled.

A high pitched scream emanated from Lara as she rapidly ripped and tore at her clothes. Before Ash could continue her attack, the woman in front of her was gone. In her place was a large, spotted hyena. The animal’s fur was coarse, its broad shoulders supporting a thick neck, leading up to massive, powerful jaws. Crouching, the animal growled, its lips pulling back in a snarl to expose rows of jagged yellow teeth.

In a split second, Lara sprung at Ash, knocking her to the ground. She savagely bit and scratched the woman’s face and torso, blood splattering in every direction. With all of her strength, Ash dug her talons into the thick skin of the hyena’s shoulders, and heaved the frenzied animal twenty feet from her.

Without hesitation, Ash pushed herself up off the ground, the loss of blood causing the space around her to spin. Focusing her attention, and knowing she only had seconds before Lara was back on her, the younger shifter pulled and tore at her clothes.

Ash’s skin burned and the tickle in her throat spread in an instant through her entire body. Joints and tendons stretched and muscles ripped and mended in seconds as Ash’s legs, back and arms broke and set instantly. Standing a little over six feet tall on two back legs, Ash knew she had been successful when a loud screech escaped her.

The hyena took several steps back as the Dromaeosaurus advanced toward it. The dinosaur towered over the other animal, its long snout revealing a row of razor sharp teeth that were bared in a vicious snarl. A loud tapping sound caught the hyena’s attention, and looking down, its eyes widened in surprise to see long sickle shaped black claws on either foot, clicking on the rock floor of the quarry.

The air filled with static and a second later Lara had shifted into a large, black bear. Standing on her hind legs, she braced herself as Ash in a single bound sprung up into the air and planted her rear claw in the center of the bear’s chest. Off balance from the force of the impact, Lara stumbled back several steps.

Ash took advantage, and craning her long neck around, sunk her jagged teeth into the bear’s neck. The bear’s massive claws beat furiously against Ash’s dense neck muscle. The thick skin of the dinosaur would not yield to Lara’s onslaught. Ash pulled her head back, ripping a massive chunk of hair and flesh from the animal’s throat.

Blood ran rapidly down Lara’s side as she fell to her knees, clutching at her throat with a massive black paw. Bringing her hind leg up, Ash lashed out at the wounded animal. The long sickle shaped claw hooking into the bear’s chest and ripping down the center of her sternum in a single stroke. A wet gurgle escaped the bear as it fell forward onto the ground with a loud thud.

Blood pooled around the fallen animal, mingling with the dirt and rock of the quarry. Ash pushed back with her two powerful hind legs, and landed ten feet from Lara. She watched as the bear began to shrink and hair disappeared to reveal red and blistered skin.

Ash imagined peeling a wet suit from her body, and by doing so, shifted back into her human form. Covered in sweat and blood, Ash looked down at her naked body to see massive bruises and jagged, deep cuts that were beginning to pucker and heal. Exhausted from the numerous shifts, Ash sank to her knees, and watched as Lara’s limp body emerged.

A cool hand came to rest on Ash’s shoulder. Looking up, she saw Coleen’s intense blue eyes staring down at her. “Are you alright?”

Managing a weak nod, Ash tried to stand, her legs feeling wobbly. Coleen wrapped her arm around the woman’s bare waist and pulled her to her feet. Ash leaned on Coleen. “Thanks.”

Coleen helped Ash to a nearby cluster of stones, and sat her down. A few moments later Coleen handed Ash what was left of her clothes. “Do you need help? Otherwise, I am going to dispose of that.” The vampire nodded toward Lara, who lay on the ground, barely alive.

“What are you going to do?” Ash asked. Her throat was dry and when she spoke it felt like two pieces of sand paper rubbing together.

Without a word, Coleen walked over to the shifter. Standing over her, Coleen took her head in between her hands, and bringing her hands together, crushed Lara’s skull. Wiping her bloodied hands down her already stained and torn jeans, Coleen walked back toward Ash. “Nothing too complicated.”

Ash cringed at the violence, but after the last few minutes, any judgment of Coleen’s actions would be the worst kind of hypocrisy. Pulling her pants on and what was left of her t-shirt, Ash hurried toward Emma just as Coleen had released the chain and began to carefully lower the vampire to the ground. Taking her head and shoulders in her arms, Ash gently guided Emma onto her back.

Coleen positioned herself between Emma’s ankles. “Em, this is going to hurt, and I’m sorry.” Taking a firm hold of the silver rod in one hand, Coleen braced her other hand against Emma’s ankle, and in a single motion, pulled the rod through and out of the woman.

Emma cried out, and Ash pulled her closer, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Jesus.”

Coleen winced. “I’m sorry Em, it can’t be helped.” Pulling on one of the cords around Emma’s waist, the vampire looked at Ash. “Can you break those, please?”

Ash frowned. “I thought she couldn’t-”

Shaking her head. “You thought she couldn’t break them because of the blood loss? No. Silver binds us, regardless of our strength.”

Nodding, Ash gently lowered Emma to the ground, her skin feeling as if it might tear with the slightest pressure. Reaching down with both hands, Ash easily broke the thin cords of silver, freeing Emma. Pulling her arms out from under her back, Ash gently rubbed the woman’s wrists. “How long until she’s better?”

Coleen was kneeling at Emma’s bloodied feet. “She’s been almost completely drained, I could bring her animal blood, but it would take a lot of it, and many days for her to heal. In the meantime, she’s going to continue to lose blood from her wounds since she can’t heal properly.”

Ash chewed nervously on her lower lip, looking lovingly down at Emma. “What about my blood?” When no response came, Ash looked back at Coleen. “Well?”

The woman’s face was still, but her eyes glowed an iridescent blue. “Yes, but she hasn’t-”

Ash shook her head, amazed that of all the times for Coleen to struggle with a moral dilemma she chose right now to do it. “I know how she feels, and more importantly why she feels that way, but these are desperate times, calling for desperate measures.” The shifter frowned. “If she blames anyone, she can blame me. Okay?”

Coleen closed her eyes, and then sighing deeply, nodded her consent. Ash looked around, and finding Lara’s discarded knife, knelt next to Emma. Pushing the blade into the inside of her forearm, Ash winced as she pulled the knife along her arm. Blood began to flow immediately, and she quickly held her arm over Emma’s mouth, hoping the woman she loved could forgive her.

***

Emma’s body was burning. Every muscle felt as if it were being torn apart from the lack of blood. She had been drifting in and out of consciousness since Lara had stung her up and began draining her. She had lived most of her vampire existence with the burning at the back of her throat, and occasionally in her stomach if she went too long between feedings. The agony of the burn she was experiencing now was tantamount to every nerve in her body misfiring.

She could hear Ash’s voice reassuring her, and the rarity of Coleen actually apologizing broke through the screaming in her head. Now there was a warm, sweet liquid creeping down her throat, causing the spasming muscles in her neck and chest to be still. Moments later, the burning lessened, and her nerves began to settle.

A surge of energy and power coursed through Emma, her arms and legs filling with blood as she opened her eyes to see Ash kneeling over her with a worried expression on her face. “Hi.”

Ash smiled, tears streaming down her face. “Hi.” The woman pulled Emma to her. “Thank God, I was so worried.”

Emma’s senses were back in full force. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so alert. The particles in the air were putting off shards of light as they danced and moved around her. “What did you do?”

Ash leaned back, the dread of what she had to tell Emma weighing on her. “I couldn’t lose you, and you were a mess, so I gave you some of my blood.” She watched Emma closely.

Remembering the choice she was forced to make when Lara’s toxins had been coursing through Ash, Emma couldn’t be angry at the woman she loved. Seeing the worried look on her face, she reached up and gently wiped at Ash’s tears with her thumb. “Thank you.”

Ash exhaled. Her shoulders relaxing as she pulled Emma to her. “I love you.”

Emma kissed Ash, the warmth of her lips mingling with the still present scent of her blood. “I love you too.” She looked over Ash’s shoulder to see Coleen getting up and walking away. “Where are you going?”

Coleen stopped and turned back to face the two women. “I’m not one for emotional outpourings, and besides, I have five lycan and a shifter to dispose of.”

Emma got up carefully. She leaned in and kissed Ash on the lips, before walking to Coleen and taking her hands. “We said some things, and I don’t want to rehash the past, but I hope we can be friends again.”

Squeezing Emma’s hands, Coleen smiled. “It wasn’t one of my finer moments either, Em.” She pulled the blonde to her in a fierce hug. “Forgiven and forgotten.” She leaned back to look at her beautiful friend. “Besides, I need someone to help me dig.”

Epilogue

It had been seven months since the carnage at the quarry. Ash stood in front of the full length mirror in her and Emma’s bedroom, appraising her outfit for the evening’s festivities for Alfred Lopez’s retirement party. In spite of eating over seven thousand calories a day, Ash had lost nearly ten pounds, but managed to build muscle tone. As a result, her body was lean and sinewy, and the boot cut gray slacks and burgundy colored button-up blouse hugged her in all the right places.

Ash had moved into Emma’s house three months ago after several months of back and forth about whether they were ready to cohabitate.

“I appreciate occupying a domicile together is a significant decision.” Emma had explained over dinner at Ash’s apartment. “And there are many aspects of our relationship that present challenges otherwise not faced by what you might call more traditional couples.” Seeing the smirk on Ash’s face, her vampire girlfriend frowned. “What?”

Taking a drink of her 90 Dogfish IPA, Ash shook her head. “Wow. You must really be nervous to pull out the word domicile.”

Narrowing her eyes, Emma looked intently at Ash. “Are you making fun of me, detective?”

Putting her beer down, Ash nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely.”

“But you understand what I’m saying?” Emma took Ash’s hand.

Smiling Ash brought the back of Emma’s cool hand to her lips. “I do understand, and I’ve been thinking about occupying domicile with you too.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Then you’ll move in?”

Ash kissed Emma’s palm, and gently stroked her wrist. “Yes, but with a few conditions.”

“Anything.” Emma’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“First, I pay half the bills. Mortgage, electricity - all that. I’m no freeloader.” Ash insisted.

Emma winced. “Ah, just so you know the house is paid for, but you can certainly chip in on the monthlies and the taxes.”

Nodding, Ash continued. “Second, we’re buying a coffee maker.” Emma grinned and nodded. “Lastly, I need space in the closet for my shoes, even if that means an add-on.”

Emma laughed. “We can get a designer out this week.”

True to her word, Emma had a designer out to the house within the week, and three weeks later, the master bedroom had been renovated to allow for an addition to the closet. Ash stood in the now large walk-in as she finished getting dressed. Walking over to the built-in shelving that stored her many shoes, boots and loafers, she pulled a pair of gun metal gray Saint Laurent three inch heels out and slipped them on.

“You’re already so much taller than me, are those really necessary, honey?” Emma walked into the closet in a black slip and matching bra. The sight of her took Ash’s breath away, and for a second she was rendered speechless. Recognizing the look on Ash’s face, Emma grinned and walked over to the dark haired woman. Putting her hands on the woman’s waist, she squeezed gently. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Is that a euphemism for something?” Ash teased.

Emma’s brow furrowed. “No, it’s an English idiom with origins in the Middle East, but further back than that it was-” The extensive explanation was cut-off when Ash pressed her lips to Emma’s. The kiss deepened and a quiet moan escaped the vampire’s parted lips.

Pulling back from Emma, Ash tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind the woman’s ear. Leaning in, Ash was surprised when Emma pulled back, and lifting Ash’s wrist, looked at the detective’s watch. “We’re already running late.”

Ash sighed. “Fine, be that way, but you’re in so much trouble later.” A mischievous glint danced across her eyes.

Lifting her eyebrows, Emma smiled. “And now you’re threatening me?”

Grabbing her by the waist, Ash pulled Emma closer. “Promising you that after Lopez’s party-”

Shaking her head, Emma put her finger over Ash’s lips. “You forget, we have drinks with Alan, and I certainly won’t be the one to incur his wrath if we cancel.”

“Are you - a hundred and eighty four year old vampire - afraid of a fashion-conscious gay Asian-Italian man?” Ash teased.

“Say that five times fast, honey.” Emma kissed the woman on the cheek. “And yes, yes I am.” She turned her back to a pouting Ash and walked to her side of the closet. Taking a sapphire blue high waisted slim dress from its wooden hanger, Emma stepped into it and reached back to zip it.

“I’m going downstairs. See you in a minute?” Ash finished putting a pair of ruby stud earrings in her ears.

Emma nodded and watched the beautiful brunette as she left. She hadn’t thought this happiness was hers to have. She and Ash had decided not to decide yet about the growing-old-together-dilemma. They had time to sort through the complexities of their situation. What Emma knew for certain was she loved Ash more than she thought was possible, and she was grateful for that.

Walking down the back stairs, Emma heard the doorbell ring, and then Ash talking. “Em, you have a visitor.”

Emma rounded the corner, and stopped dead in her tracks. She stared in disbelief at the fair skinned, auburn haired woman standing in her doorway. Her piercing green eyes were leveled on Emma. “Hello, Emma.”

Ash looked at the beautiful woman, and back at Emma. The look on her girlfriend’s face was one of shock and fear. Stepping back from the visitor, Ash reached for Emma’s cool hand. “Em? Who is this?”

Emma’s throat felt tight as she forced the words from her mouth. “My murderer.”

###

Excerpt from Dying Forever

Chapter 1

“My ample ass would not fit in that.” Lydia Gomez peered at the short, narrow, wicker sarcophagus that housed the withered body of a South American Chinchorro mummy. “Can you imagine?”

Alison Bailey couldn’t help but smile. Lydia had been one of the first people she met when she joined the University of the Incarnate Word faculty nearly nine years ago. She was a forty-two-year-old divorcee, six years Alison’s senior, 5’2”, and weighed over one hundred and fifty pounds. Alison knew this because Lydia was constantly talking about her age, ex-husband, and the newest diet she was trying. Not necessarily in that order.

Alison had met Lydia at the San Antonio Art Museum over an hour ago. The two women tried to get together outside of work at least once a month. In this case, they had both been interested in a new exhibit at the museum showcasing the mummies of the world.

“Nice alliteration - and that’s a child, Lydia, so cut yourself a break.” Alison leaned down and studied the porous texture of the mummy’s exposed skin and bone.

“Regardless, I can take some comfort in knowing everyone was smaller back then.” Lydia walked slowly toward a large, ornate tapestry made of coarse, thickly woven yarn.

Alison shook her head and fell in behind Lydia. “Not true. In some regions less than an inch separates us from our ancestors, and in Colonial America, both Jefferson and Washington were over six feet tall.” She examined the faded yellows and blues of the tapestry as she spoke. “The average American male today is only five nine.”

“Well, that makes me feel better. Not.” Lydia tisked. “Why do you know these things?”

“I’m a professor of American folklore.” Alison frowned. “How awkward would it be if I didn’t know these things?”

Lydia shrugged. “I’m hungry. This paleo diet is for the birds. Are you ready for dinner?” She looked at her watch. “It’s nearly six.”

Alison had eaten a late lunch after her swim, and wasn’t feeling like dinner yet. She knew better, though, than to let Lydia’s blood sugar drop. Lydia was usually a pleasant and concerned person, but let her go too long between meals, and Lydia would morph into an anger ball.

“Hmm, I think I’ll pass.”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed. “You do eat, right? I mean who loses weight over the summer?”

Alison had never thought of herself as particularly thin. She had taken care of herself over the years, and was blessed with good skin that complemented her sandy blonde hair. “It’s the hair cut.”

Lydia smirked. “Doubtful - but speaking of, how long does it take you to get it to look messy like that?”

Alison ran her fingers through her short locks. “You don’t like it?”

“Oh, I like it, but if I cut my hair that short, I’d look like a bowling pin.” Lydia mused.

Alison chuckled. “Enjoy your dinner, friend.”

“Are you okay on your own?” Lydia began riffling around in her oversized navy blue L.L. Bean canvas bag that doubled as a purse and briefcase.

“I can manage.” Alison leaned in for a quick hug. “See you next week?”

Lydia sighed. “Yes. Alas, summer break, and the all too brief reprieve it offers, is drawing to a close.”

Alison squeezed her friend’s shoulder reassuringly. “At least you didn’t get coerced into a summer session like yours truly.”

Lydia shuddered. “Oh, I know. What a sucker you were.” Lydia was a professor of Latin American Studies and had been tenured for nearly ten years. As a result, she rarely, if ever, volunteered for assignments outside her normal class and office hours.

“Thanks, Lydia. See you Monday.” Alison playfully pinched her friend’s arm, spun on her heels, and walked toward the European mummy exhibit hall.

She knew she was too much of a pushover with her department head. Having only received tenure a year ago, Alison was still in the mindset that she had to impress people, and more than that, didn’t want to fall into the state of apathy that seemed to be so prevalent with her peers, especially Lydia.

The coolness of the exhibit hall masked the fact the South Texas summer was in full swing, and the temperature outside was over the century mark. Alison was wearing her favorite trying-not-to-bake-to-death outfit. Her tan, khaki shorts and thin olive, v-neck t-shirt from the Gap were minimizing the sweats. Her leather sole Lands’ End flip flops made a faint popping sound that echoed back and forth between the brick walls and the white oak hard wood floor of the hall.

Alison felt a little conspicuous as she entered the room and walked toward a display of mummies. There was only one other patron in the hall, an auburn haired woman who was examining a sarcophagus along the far wall.

The white laminated information card next to the display indicated the mummies in the Plexiglas case were naturally mummified remains. The bodies had an almost wax like appearance and their features still remained intact, in spite of being over fifteen hundred years old.

“They’re bog bodies.” A woman’s voice broke the silence of the room.

Startled, Alison’s eyes shot up and found the other patron staring at her from the opposite side of the display case. Her eyes were the most vivid green Alison had ever seen. “Sorry?”

“They’re called that because they either fell or were placed in peat bogs. The acidic water and low temperatures of the bog preserved them.” A nervous smile skipped across the woman’s full lips.

Alison cleared her throat. She forced her eyes from the woman’s face, back to the display. “Really? Why would someone be placed in what amounts to an acid bath?”

The woman pointed at the head of the mummy with a long tapered finger. “See the gash on the right temple?”

Alison leaned over the display case, her and the woman’s head nearly touching as they both peered at the corpse. The woman’s scent of citrus and vanilla wafted over her. “Oh, god, look at that.”

“People ended up in the bogs because they were murdered, or sometimes, part of a ritual sacrifice. I would wager this one is the former, given the size of the gash.” Alison and the woman both straightened up at the same time, and it was then that Alison realized how beautiful the stranger was.

She was an inch shorter than Alison, who in her bare feet was 5’6”. The woman’s long, wavy hair was dark auburn, with streaks of lighter blond and red throughout. Her skin was pale and flawless, and her eyes a bright green, framed by long, thick lashes.

Reaching across the display case, Alison extended her hand. “I’m Alison.”

The woman cocked her head slightly to the right and considered Alison’s hand for a second before taking it in her own. “Bryce.”

Alison looked down at the stranger’s hand. The skin was incredibly smooth and cool. “Bryce? Like the actress?”

Bryce’s brow furrowed. “Who?”

“Bryce Dallas. Ron Howard’s daughter.” Alison reluctantly removed her hand from Bryce’s.

“Sorry. I don’t watch a lot of television or movies.” The woman took a step back and pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

“I’m detecting a slight accent. Are you not from the States?” Alison wasn’t sure why, but she felt the need to know the woman better.

Shaking her head, Bryce looked down at her feet. “I’m originally from Ireland. Galway County.”

“Big fan of your whiskey.” Alison’s attempt at a joke fell flat as the woman looked at her blankly. “Not that I imbibe often, but when I do I enjoy -” Taking a deep breath, Alison exhaled through pursed lips. “Forget it. I’m sure you get the booze jokes all the time, given the Irish penchant for drinking.” As soon as the words flew out of her mouth, Alison wanted to crawl under the floorboards. She slammed her eyes shut, and her face flamed with embarrassment.

“Not that you’re a drunk, and that’s a terrible stereotype by the way.” Waving her hands in the air, Alison took a step back. “I’m sorry. It was nice meeting you. Thanks for the information.” She turned to walk away, relieved she had been able to extract her foot from her mouth long enough to exit.

“When I do drink, I like Bushmill whiskey.” Bryce’s voice was tentative.

Alison stopped and turned around, the flip flop sound of her shoes accompanying her as she walked back toward Bryce. “I’m more of a Jameson girl myself, but I won’t hold it against you.”

Bryce smiled, and Alison stifled a gasp. The woman managed to be even more stunning when her perfectly straight and white smile lit up her face. “Would you like to have a drink with me?”

Alison’s heart sped up, but she managed to sound calm as she spoke. “That would be nice.” She glanced at her wrist watch. “It’s a little after six, so happy hours in this part of town abound.”

Looking confused, Bryce hesitantly nodded. “Sure. Do you know of anywhere good around here?”

“I do. It’s just up the street actually.” She pulled her phone out of the front pocket of her shorts. “What’s your number?  I’ll text you the information, then we can meet there.” Though she had taken an immediate liking to Bryce, she wasn’t foolish enough to get in a car with a complete stranger.

“I don’t have a phone.” Bryce said it so casually, Alison thought she had misheard.

“How’s that possible?” Alison’s tone was sterner than she had intended. “I mean - wow. That’s - that’s something.”

Bryce chewed nervously on the inside of her lip. “I’ve been meaning to get one, but haven’t made the time.”

“I’d be lost without mine.” Alison slid her phone back in her pocket. “Why don’t we pop up to the front desk and snag a piece of paper.” She smiled. “We can do it old school, and I’ll draw you a map.”

Bryce grinned. “Sounds good.”

The two women walked back through the various exhibit rooms toward the front of the museum. The thin Hispanic woman at the front desk was on the phone, so Alison grabbed a comment card and a pen from a nearby table and quickly jotted down the information.

“Esquire Tavern. It’s downtown on Commerce Street, but since we’re already this far down Broadway, we can get there in about ten minutes.” Alison handed the slip of paper to Bryce. “I’m guessing you don’t have GPS.” Looking at the paper, Bryce shook her head. “No worries. I’m parked right out front. You can follow me down.”

“Thank you.” Bryce slid the paper into her back pocket.

Alison felt like skipping, but managed to contain her enthusiasm as she walked toward the parking lot. It had been nearly three months since she had been on a date. Her older sister Julia had set her up with an office mate from her firm, and it had been an unmitigated disaster. Halfway through their dinner, the woman had mentioned she was still married, to a man, and wasn’t sure if “the whole lesbian thing” was her scene. Alison had politely exited the dinner and called her sister to give her an earful as she walked back to her car.

“Odd. She’s never mentioned a husband, and when I said I had a sister she might be interested in dating, she was very eager.” Julia had immediately gone defensive. “Shit, I have to see her tomorrow at work. You weren’t rude, were you, Ali?”

Alison’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head with exasperation. “Really, Jules? Really, truly - you’re worried about how I handled finding out I was someone’s curiosity when you should be kissing my ass?”

There had been a long pause. “You know I’m sorry. Now can we discuss the fallout on my end?”

Not for the first time, or most likely the last, Alison had hung up on her sister. Julia Abigail Bailey was a Chief Financial Officer for a local financial services company and sometimes forgot her sister wasn’t an employee.

That experience, along with her summer class schedule, had curtailed Alison’s interest in dating. Now, unlocking her blue 2011 Honda Accord coupe, she half-expected to turn around and find Bryce had ducked out on her. Instead, the beautiful woman nearly walked into the back of Alison as she stopped next to her car.

“Sorry.” Bryce took a step back and pulled a set of keys from her jeans pocket.

“It’s fine. I’m here.” Alison nodded toward her car.

Bryce looked toward the far corner of the parking lot. “I’m over a ways, but go ahead. I have a general idea where I’m going.”

Alison smiled. “It’s pretty straight forward. Just head down Broadway toward downtown. It turns into Losoya Street, then you can take a right on Commerce.” She opened the car door, and a wave of heat escaped from the interior. “See you there.”

Alison left the door open while she started the car. Looking over, she watched as Bryce walked toward a white, Toyota Corolla. How is she wearing all those clothes? Alison thought as she registered for the first time that the woman was wearing a long sleeve gray t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of brown leather Skechers.

Fairly confident she wouldn’t suffocate, Alison turned the air conditioner up, closed the car door, and pulled out onto the main street. Glancing in her rear view mirror, she saw the white Toyota pull out of the parking lot and begin following her.

Halfway down Broadway, Alison timed a light cycle badly and left Bryce sitting while she drove on. Slowing down as much as she could without causing a traffic jam, Alison attempted to wait for the woman, but after several irritated honks from fellow motorist, she had no choice but to drive on.

Alison parked at a meter across from the Esquire, then looked up and down Commerce Street, hoping to spot Bryce. Deciding it was best, or at least less hot, to wait for her inside, Alison crossed the street and entered the dark, cool bar.

Built in 1933 in celebration of Prohibition being repealed, the Esquire Tavern sat along the back edge of the San Antonio Riverwalk. The walnut floors were faded and scratched, accenting the scarred wooden booths and deep red, leather seat covers. The worn wooden bar ran nearly the length of the tavern and was backed by numerous shelves lined with every imaginable liquor bottle.

Alison took a seat at the bar, hanging her purse on a brass hook under the bar top. “What can I get you?” The young African-American man who spoke was dressed in a stark white button-up shirt, black bow tie, and a pair of dark jeans.

“Jameson neat, please.” Alison leaned back in the high back leather bar stool and looked toward the entrance of the bar. Glancing at her watch, she frowned. I hope she isn’t lost.

The bartender placed an old fashioned style glass half full with Jameson in front of Alison. “Would you like to start a tab, miss?”

Alison reached into her purse, pulled out her brown leather J. Crew wallet, and handed her Visa to the man. “Yes, please.” She was hopeful Bryce and she would linger long enough to warrant a tab.

Thirty minutes and two drinks later, Alison closed out her tab. Bryce was nowhere to be found, and Alison’s dignity dictated she leave, though part of her remained hopeful it was a misunderstanding or the woman simply got lost.

Stepping out into the heat of the city, Alison looked back and forth along the bricked sidewalk and sighed heavily when there was no sign of Bryce. “Classic.” She muttered to herself as she crossed the street. Digging in her purse for her keys, she failed to see a car turning right onto Commerce Street and nearly had a heart attack as the irate driver honked repeatedly.

Approaching her car, Alison saw a white slip of paper secured under her driver side windshield wiper. Alison thought for a minute it was a note from Bryce saying she was sorry, but something had come up last minute.

Turning the slip of paper over, her evening immediately went from bad to worse. “Shit.” In her zeal to get into the bar and meet Bryce, Alison had forgotten to put money in the meter and now had a twenty-five dollar ticket to add insult to injury.

Driving back uptown toward her house near the San Antonio Medical Center, Alison resolved to not meet and greet any more strange and beautiful women in mummy exhibits, as clearly nothing good could come of it. She also was committed to never tell another soul about the humiliating endeavor. Her ego could only take so much.

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