Touch of Madness (32 page)

The next image was of being questioned at the nearest branch of the Denver P.D., with Gary Hamilton arguing back and forth with the assistant DA.

Finally, there was a late morning cab ride to Denver General.

Jake was dead. Amanda had killed him. I hadn’t liked him much, but I mourned his passing none the less. Mike was in ICU. They’d had to do massive surgery. He might not make it, but even if he lived, he’d probably be paralyzed from the chest down.

Joe blamed me for everything. He said it was my fault Mike was here and Jake was dead. He stood an inch in front of my face shouting at the top of his lungs, his spit spraying my face. He said my “lifestyle choices” were deadly for the people around me. I didn’t fight back. I couldn’t. If Amanda hadn’t wanted me dead, none of it would’ve happened. She hadn’t had any grudge against Jake, the zombies, or Michael. She’d wanted me dead and was ready to destroy anything and anyone who got in her way. We’d killed her. But the damage was done. Monica, Amanda…my enemies. But when they’d wanted to hurt me, they’d struck out at my family and friends. Because they knew that would hurt me the most, and that was where I was the most vulnerable. I turned to walk away from the fight, but security had arrived. I left the building under escort…again, wandering out of the hospital into the cold, clear winter day.

I didn’t bother to call a cab to take me home even though I was miles from the warehouse. I walked, tears streaming unchecked down my cheeks, my breath misting the air in front of me. I walked with my hands in the pockets of Bryan’s leather bomber jacket, neither seeing nor caring about the world around me. I prayed hard for Michael and for Jake’s soul. Then I prayed for guidance and thought about my life. Had I brought all this onto myself and the people who loved me? I tried to be brutally honest. If I had acted differently, would things have been better? Had I done something wrong that was the root of my problems? I couldn’t come up with a damned thing. Amanda had been jealous of me in high school and blamed me for what happened to Monica and the others. Before that, Monica had hated me for taking out Larry’s nest to save Dylan.

Bryan said I shouldn’t have saved Dylan. But I couldn’t not. He hadn’t believed that Larry would hunt me down. I knew better. He had chosen me to be next in line based on the things he’d heard about my psychic talent. If I hadn’t gone into the basement after Dylan Larry would have come after me. One way or another, I would’ve had to fight. I knew it without a doubt in my mind. The time and place might have been different, but the result would have been the same.

A strange peace settled over me as I waited for the light at the crosswalk at Speer and Colfax. I was almost halfway home. I was cold. I was tired. But I was as clear headed as I’d ever been in my life. Joe was wrong. He was terrified and angry and I was the easiest target for him to direct that at. But he was wrong. I wasn’t responsible for Michael’s injuries or any of the other things he was laying at my door. Monica and Amanda’s actions had been horrible, violent and evil, but they were their actions— not mine.

A horn honked, and I turned to see a familiar Oldsmobile pulling to the curb with Bryan at the wheel. He stopped a short distance in front of me and threw open the passenger side door. I trotted over and climbed in.

“It wasn’t my fault, Bryan. Part of me really wishes it was so I could just go throw myself off a bridge and save all my enemies the trouble. But none of it was my fault.”

He turned to me, rolling his eyes. “You’re just now figuring that out? Jeez, Kate, I thought I was the stupid one in the family.”

I pulled the car door closed and strapped on my seatbelt, reveling in the warmth pouring from the heat vents. “You are not stupid. As I recall, you got straight A’s and were top of your class.” I held my hands in front of the heat vents, trying to get them warm.

He gave me a pitying look, as if he couldn’t believe I was so naïve. “Only because I played varsity football. If I’d had to earn those grades I’d have flunked Algebra, and had a solid D in English Lit.”

I turned and stared at him. “You’re kidding!”

He raised his right hand from the steering wheel. “Nope. Hand to God. And Emily Carter did my homework for me in U.S. Government in exchange for… carnal favors.” He paused for effect. “Services which, by the way, I was more than happy to render. I wasn’t a saint, Kate. No matter what you and Joe thought.” His grin was positively wicked.

“Bryan!” I was shocked, although come to think on it, I probably shouldn’t have been. My baby brother had many shining qualities, but his work ethic had never really been one of them. Coach Cooper had wielded a lot of influence in the school, and men’s varsity football had been huge with the alumni association. Bryan hit the turn signal and pulled back onto the road at the first opening. “This bullshit is so like you, taking the blame for everything.” He kept his eyes on the road, but his expression was intense. “Joe was always the smart one—

when he wasn’t acting like an idiot. You were the stubborn one…the athlete. You never quit. You don’t know how. You give everything you’ve got, everything you are, on the field.”

He slowed the car for a stoplight, and glanced at me across the seat. “The other night, when I said Joe and I went to a movie? I lied.”

I didn’t say anything, but I gave him a questioning look.

“Mary was pissed at Joe. She said he didn’t have a clue who you really are, that maybe if he took the time to really understand you, the two of you would get along better.”

I blinked rapidly as I tried to accept what he was telling me. Mary Connolly couldn’t possibly have stuck up for me. It would be a miracle if she didn’t blame me for Jake’s death as well. I couldn’t imagine why she would be trying to help me with my family problems. Of course, she could be trying to help Joe get his head back on straight. It was something she’d do…if she loved him.

“Anyway,” Bryan’s voice pulled me back to the present. “She pulled out this old videocassette, slams it in the VCR, and hits play. It was your last volleyball match. The one where you got injured so badly, and still wouldn’t quit: wouldn’t give up. Your damned arm was almost totally useless. It hurt me just to watch you trying to use it. But you would not give up.”

The light changed, and he pulled the car forward in traffic. “The video crew had a camera focused on your huddle with your partner, and they’d turned up the sound as high as they could to try to catch what you could possibly be saying to each other.”

He switched lanes, hitting the signal to turn right onto the road that would lead to the lofts. “And I heard you say to your partner, ‘This is the last game of this tournament, my career, and my life. I am not going to fucking lose. So you had damned well be ready to fight.’ ”

I winced. I’d said it, and at the time I’d meant every word. Now it seemed a little…I dunno, melodramatic. “I wouldn’t have thought they’d let the profanity through on television.”

“They didn’t. They bleeped it, but Mary had the director’s cut.”

We rode in silence for almost a block. I wasn’t sure what to say. Looking back on it, what I’d done was probably…

no, it just was idiotic, no probably about it. But I couldn’t have done any differently. It wasn’t in my nature.

“After we watched that Joe just sat on the couch, not saying a word. I left. I went down to Bernardo’s, shot pool against some guy named Leo. He said he was a friend of yours. Nice guy, and pours a mean rum and Coke. When I came back to the house, you were already in bed.”

He pulled the car up to the gate of the parking garage and typed in the code.

“Why are you telling me this, Bryan?” I shifted in my seat and looked away from him, staring out the window. He didn’t answer until he pulled the car into Tom’s open spot and put it in park. He turned in the seat until he was facing me, but I still wouldn’t look at him. “Couple of reasons. I was pissed at both of you. I’m back and I wanted things to be back to normal for the three of us. But the two of you are just being complete assholes. It wasn’t like this before. So I talked to Mike. I figured if anybody could help with this mess he could.”

I swung my head around to meet his gaze. “What did he say?”

“He said that Joe doesn’t respect you, and that’s the one thing you can’t forgive.”

I flinched. It was a perfect one-sentence summation. “Did he have any suggestions?”

“He told me to pray.”

I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the door enough to turn on the dome light. He turned to face me, his face half hidden by shadow. “What was the second thing?”

“You’ve spent so much time thinking of me as a kid that I needed to remind both of you I’m an adult. Hell, I was an adult before the Eden. I was nearly seventeen—ready to graduate and get my own place. I’m back to that person.” He reached out and touched my hand, took it in his and squeezed it. “You don’t have to be my keeper anymore, Kate. You get to live your own life.” He paused for effect. “It’s time to let go—of a lot of things.”

25

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Tom’s alarm sounded and he groaned his way to wakefulness. His pulled his arm from around me and half rolled, half reached for the clock. “It’s morning.” He didn’t sound happy to be making the announcement. I wasn’t thrilled about it either. We’d stayed up very late the night before, talking. Mike was out of ICU, but still in critical condition. The werewolves were in shock over Jake’s loss. It was a small pack, and a very close-knit one. Losing a member was hitting them very hard. I couldn’t imagine how Tom was managing Jake’s loss, or why he hadn’t noticed anything wrong when Amanda had attacked. I’d never asked him how, or whether, the wolves were connected mentally. Maybe Mary was a better person to ask.

Tom scooted away, until he wasn’t spooning me any more, and climbed out from beneath the covets. I watched him cross the room and disappear into the bathroom. A moment later the shower was running. Closing my eyes, I dozed off. I didn’t wake again until he was bending over to kiss me good-bye.

The kiss was tender at first, almost tentative, but it grew in passion until it was a wild, hungry thing, devouring us both. We both needed a touchstone right now to start to heal the hurt.

Fierce, hot need poured through me, leaving me breathless. I was glad I was already laying in bed, because if I’d been standing my knees would’ve given out on me. He laughed. It was a confident, masculine sound that should have been annoying, but somehow wasn’t. “I love that I can do that to you, love the way your body reacts to mine.”

I smiled over at him. “If we had just a little more time I’d show you what my body can do to you. But you have to go to work.”

“Damn it anyway. Maybe if we hurry?”

“I am so not going to hurry.” I laughed. Tom needed to go to work and I needed some time alone. I loved him, but there were things I needed to do that just never seemed to get accomplished when he was around. “You’re just going to have to wait until you get off shift, knowing that I’m going to have three whole days to come up with all sorts of creative things to do to you.”

He gave me a long look. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

I sighed. Last night we’d talked about a lot of things, among them my problems with Joe and my worries about Mike. Only family was being allowed into ICU, so it wouldn’t even do any good to go to the hospital until he was in more stable condition. The nurses were being polite, but vague.

“I’m fine!” I assured him, mostly to hear myself say it. “Now git. Shoo! You don’t want to be late.”

He gave me one more quick kiss good-bye and left. I watched him go and felt a bit of relief when he was gone. I needed time alone to think about the things we’d talked about and to digest everything that had happened. Now that Amanda was gone, I was hoping I could live a little more normally, not be looking over my shoulder quite as much. I cleaned up, then spent the morning working on my finances. Between one thing and another, I had enough to pay the worst of the bills, but that was it. The good news was that I would no longer have to pay for nursing care for Bryan, but if I didn’t get some serious income through the door soon I was going to lose everything. I couldn’t in good conscience accept disability any longer. My body was fine, or at least good enough to get back to business. Working would also get me out of the house so I didn’t spend my days sitting around moping. I paced the apartment, trying to come up with a plan of attack. First, I needed to contact all of my old clients and see if I could win them back from whoever had been taking care of them during my absence. Next, I’d need to do something to get my name out there to potential new clients. A flyer would be cheapest and easiest. After all, Tom’s computer was right there on the desk, and he had an art program that I could probably figure out how to use. If I had to do actual advertising, I would. But the cost of ads is staggering, particularly in the kind of high-end publications that would appeal to a clientele that would use a bonded courier. At least my bond was safe. The not guilty verdict assured that, and I’d just mailed in the check for the annual fee.

I popped one of Tom’s packaged meals into the microwave and sat down with the telephone and my address book. The first number I called was to Ramon and Celeste’s art gallery. She answered on the first ring.

“Tres Chic, how can I help you?”

“Hi, Celeste.”

“Kate!” She let out a squeal of delight. “Ramon, it’s Katie!” She didn’t cover the phone through any of this, and I had to hold the receiver back from my ear so as not to lose an ear drum. “Darling, it’s so good to hear from you! I’m so happy about your brother! Absolutely amazing. You must be ecstatic!”

I had to smile. Every sentence was uttered with breathless excitement. It was very, very Celeste.

“But oh dear, this latest thing…and the other, up in the mountains…Kate, you need to be careful. They are terrible enemies to have. I really do worry for you.” She would know all about that. She’d been enthralled by one of Monica’s old hosts. While I was pretty sure it was partially voluntary, I was happy to play stupid since Monica’s death had gotten her back together with Ramon. He’d been heartbroken to think she’d cheat on him, but forgave everything when he realized she’d been bitten. Sometimes love really is blind—and not terribly bright. Still, who was I to judge?