Blood Law (23 page)

Black smoke seeped around the apartment’s windows and curled under the door. It seared her lungs, and she coughed violently as she thumbed on the safety and stowed her Glock in her holster. Tears blurred her vision as she grabbed her badge from the nightstand.

Dweezil howled as another thunderous boom vibrated
the floor beneath her. She dropped a blanket over him and scooped him into her arms. Crimson Swan was on fire, and they had to get out quickly. She threw open the apartment door. More smoke rolled in, blinding her.

Coughing and holding on tightly to the howling, blanket-wrapped Dweezil, she hurried down the stairs.

Flames raced along the walls and the open doorway leading to the bar. They rolled along the ceiling like the rippling skin of a dying beast. She heard the glasses behind the bar shattering from the heat. Bottles of alcohol exploded in tiny fireballs. She winced when she noticed the framed Bela Lugosi poster, bubbling and peeling as the fire closed around it.

The stairs leading to Stephen’s loft above the bar were already blocked by flames and debris. She stood in their shared entrance, momentarily frozen with indecision.

A beam collapsed within the bar, sending a shower of sparks and molten glass into the tower’s stairwell.

Dweezil howled and tried to climb out of the blanket.

“Hush,” she said, tightening her grip. “We’re getting out of here.”

She could feel her skin beginning to blister. Her lungs ached from the superheated air. Her eyes watered from the smoke. She reached for the outer steel door and screamed as the hot metal burned the palm of her hand.

“Damn it!” She kicked the door, but it refused to open. She kicked again.

The whine of fatigued metal spurred her on.

She kicked again.

The door shuddered but didn’t give way.

She screamed in frustration. She kicked a final time, and the door flew off its hinges.

Flames burst through the open door, seeking new fuel. Alex ducked to the floor, seeking cleaner air. Fire curled up the door’s frame and along the ceiling. An opening formed, and with a desperate shout, she leapt into the blaze.

She landed heavily and staggered away from the burning building. The alley was a kaleidoscope of flickering light and shadows. Stephen’s attackers were undoubtedly still in the area. Tears filled her eyes, and she couldn’t distinguish between a natural shadow and a possible assailant. Holding Dweezil also made it impossible for her to carry her weapon at the ready. She could only hope she slipped past the arsonists unnoticed.

She made it to the corner of Crimson Swan and braced herself against the rough brick. Coughing, she loosened her grip on the blanket.

Dweezil peered out from his shelter. His green-and-gold eyes reflected the fire raging behind her. He hissed and struggled to break free.

She tightened her grip. “Not yet.” She coughed. She wiped her eyes against a corner of the blanket. “It’s still not safe.”

The cat howled in protest.

“Oh, be quiet.” Alex pushed away from the wall.

As she rounded a Dumpster, something hard slammed into her stomach, knocking the air from her lungs. She twisted to land on her back, trying to keep
from crushing Dweezil. The cat rocketed from the blanket with a screeching howl and leapt for the safety of the Dumpster.

Alex struggled to regain her breath. Starbursts strobed before her eyes. A figure appeared over her, holding an aluminum bat in its hands.

Cruel, dark eyes blazed with hatred as they stared down at her through the holes of a blue-and-gray ski mask. “Not so high and mighty now, are you?”

Air filled her lungs. “Who—”

A foot crashed into her side. “Don’t interrupt me, bitch!”

Alex coughed and tasted blood.

“Didn’t anyone teach you it’s bad manners to interrupt when others are talking?” He knelt beside her; his rough hands slipped beneath her shirt. “Got a message for you and your friends.”

She seized his wrist and squeezed. Bones cracked and flesh bruised.

Her assailant cried out and swung the bat, striking her healing bullet wound.

Pain flared along her arm, numbing it, and she was forced to relinquish her hold.

“Fucking bitch,” the hooded man snarled, and jabbed her in the face with the bat’s rounded end, slamming the back of her head into the pavement.

A dark screeching mass flew over her and attached itself to the man’s hooded face. He screamed and reeled away.

Shadows crowded into the edges of Alex’s consciousness. She heard Dweezil’s howl and felt his furry body
sweep past her outstretched hand. Through blurry eyes she caught a glimpse of dark hair and bloody scratches as her assailant ran by her. Her vision cleared briefly as an image of Varik asleep in a hotel bed filled her mind.

Varik.
She directed her call along the blood-bond’s path.

His slumbering mind latched upon hers and awakened. His eyes opened, and he sat up, searching for her. Surprise turned to horror and fear.
Alex!

Help me.
She tried to sustain the connection, but the image faded and darkness claimed her.

Harvey stood next to his car, watching the crews trying to salvage what they could of Crimson Swan. Outwardly, he kept a grim face for the rescue teams and camera crews. Inwardly, he jumped for joy with each fiery column that continued to leap skyward.

“Looks like a total loss, huh, Sheriff?” Deputy Case said from beside him.

“Yep, looks that way.”

Part of the roof collapsed, followed by gasps and screams from the crowd behind the hastily erected police barricade. He smiled, then coughed to cover it, trying to keep from appearing too happy with the bar’s destruction.

“You think everyone got out?” Deputy Case asked, blowing into his cupped hands to warm them.

Harvey shrugged. “If not, we’ll hear about it soon enough,” he said, looking over the crowd.

More shouts and screams from the crowd pulled his
attention back to the fire. An exterior wall collapsed in a column of fire, sparks, and smoke, sending firefighters in a mad scramble to get out of harm’s way.

Thick smoke wafted across his face. He reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, intending to use it as a makeshift mask, but the pocket was empty. He patted his other pockets, growing increasingly alarmed as he failed to locate it.

“Problem, Sheriff?” Deputy Case inquired.

“I can’t find—” A horrific realization settled over him. His handkerchief. He’d been using it at the impound yard, but he didn’t remember putting it in his pocket when he left. He must have dropped it when the tech startled him.

“Can’t find what?” Deputy Case asked.

“Nothing. It’s not important,” he lied.

How could he have been so stupid as to forget his handkerchief? Maybe the techs would think it belonged to Sabian or was a stray bit of garbage. He clung to that thin hope and lit a cigarette with shaking hands.

Varik’s Corvette jerked to a halt beside the entrance of Crimson Swan’s parking lot. He jumped from the car and ran toward the flames.

He ran blindly around fire trucks and the men working to kill the blaze. He leapt over snaking hoses and dodged streams of water. His heart slammed against his ribs in a furious rhythm fueled by adrenaline and fear. The image of a battered Alex lying in an alley was already fading from his mind.

He charged into the alleyway and skidded to a halt, listening, but heard only the steady splashing of water, the distant
pop
of exploding liquor bottles, and the shouts of firemen. “Alex!”

No response.

Sweat dripped into his eyes, and he angrily brushed it away. He reached out to her with his mind. No welcoming warmth greeted his probing senses. Nausea twisted his insides. “Alex! Where are you?”

A faint noise stopped him in mid-stride. He took a deep breath and waited, hoping to hear the noise again.

Nothing.

He took another step. “Alex?”

A fresh shot of adrenaline jolted his heart when he saw a pale hand covered in blood. His feet raced over the pavement, and he dropped to his knees beside Alex.

She lay on her side. Fresh blood coated her face and arms. Blisters ruptured under his fingers as he gently rolled her over, searching for a pulse and finding the slow, steady rhythm.

“Alex? Baby?” He stroked her swollen cheek and felt something shift beneath her skin. Anger bubbled to the surface and burned away his fear.

Dweezil emerged from beneath a nearby Dumpster. The cat climbed onto her chest, curling his tail around his feet, and bunched up until he resembled a ragged black-and-tan meat loaf. He blinked at Varik and mewed, long and sorrowfully.

Varik scooped Alex into his arms. The cat protested the change but didn’t move. Carrying them both, he hurried back toward the parking lot and more approaching
sirens. “I’ll find whoever did this, baby,” he vowed. “I’ll find them and I’ll fucking cut out their hearts.”

Emily Sabian steered her rental car off Interstate 55 and skidded to a halt in the center of Jefferson Boulevard. “Oh, no,” she breathed.

Flames engulfed Crimson Swan. Fiery fingers scorched their way up the building’s sides and waved at her from windows. The bell tower leaned precariously to one side. Showers of embers erupted from its interior like macabre Roman candles.

“Stephen.” She hit the gas, and the car sped forward. “Oh, Alex.”

Police cars and fire trucks blocked the street. She pulled onto the shoulder behind a row of sheriff’s department cruisers. Emily sprang from her rental and dashed toward the blaze, shouldering her purse as she ran.

A Nassau County deputy standing in front of a police barricade waved for her to stop as she neared the fire. “Sorry, ma’am. Authorized personnel only. No civilians allowed inside the perimeter.”

“You don’t understand,” she said breathlessly, while rummaging through her bag. She extracted her wallet and flipped it open to show her Kentucky driver’s license. “I’m Emily Sabian.” She pointed over the deputy’s shoulder to the blaze. “Crimson Swan is my son’s bar.”

The deputy studied her identification and then her face before shaking his head. “Sorry, but I can’t let you through.”

“But my son! My daughter! Were they in the bar? Are they hurt?”

“I can’t tell you anything. You’ll have to wait.”

“Now, you listen to me,” she said, and leaned over the wooden barricade. She poked the deputy’s brass nameplate pinned to his shirt. “I want to know where my children are, Deputy Black, and if you don’t let me through, I swear—”

“Emily!” someone shouted from behind the deputy.

She glanced over the officer’s shoulder, and relief washed over her. “Varik!” she called, and waved to him.

“It’s all right,” he told the deputy as he approached. Light from the blaze reflected off the silver badge clipped to his belt. “You can let her through.”

Deputy Black scowled but moved aside.

Emily ducked under the barricade and rushed to meet Varik. She wrapped him in a quick embrace and then stepped back, searching his soot-streaked face. “Alex and Stephen—where are they?”

Varik slipped his arm around her waist and guided her away from the blaze, toward a silently waiting ambulance. “Alex was in the apartment in the bell tower when the fire started.” He gave her a reassuring squeeze and forced her to keep walking when she tried to stop. “She got out, but whoever set the fire attacked her in the alleyway behind the bar.”

“How badly is she hurt?”

“Minor burns and blisters, cuts from exploding glass, bruises.” They’d reached the ambulance, and he turned to face her. “She’s got a nasty black eye and most likely a fractured cheekbone.”

Emily’s heart dropped into her stomach. “And Stephen?”

Shouts from the blaze distracted them. The leaning bell tower succumbed to gravity’s pull and fell into the heart of the inferno. Firefighters scrambled to escape the flaming rubble ejected into the parking lot like earthly meteors.

“Varik?” She touched his arm, pulling his gaze back to her. “Where’s Stephen?”

Emotions swam in the depths of his golden eyes. A muscle jumped along his jaw.

Despair swept her up into its unforgiving tide. Tears trailed over her cheeks, and she clasped her hands in front of her. “No, please. He couldn’t have been in there. No!”

Varik wrapped her in his arms, stroking her tangled curls. “We don’t know,” he whispered. “We just don’t know. The bar was closed, so Alex is the only witness. She hasn’t—”

Emily pushed him away and angrily wiped her wet cheeks. “I want to see Alex.”

He nodded and knocked on the ambulance’s rear door. It opened, and he gestured for the paramedic inside to step out. “Enforcer Sabian’s mother wants to see her.”

The paramedic glanced at Emily and hopped down to the pavement. “I gave her something for the pain. She’s resting now, but she really needs to go to the hospital for X rays.”

“Has she said anything?” Varik asked.

“Nothing coherent.”

Emily accepted Varik’s hand as she climbed into the ambulance. The bright overhead light made her squint and shield her eyes. She perched on the edge of the low built-in bench and shuddered.

Alex lay on her left side on a gurney, with a large black-and-tan cat curled up in her arms. Bruises covered the upper portion of her right arm. The recent bullet wound streaked across her biceps, a red slash in a field of purple. The right side of her face was swollen and a mottled blue and red. An IV line pumped fluids into her system. Her breathing was slow and steady, but Emily heard a slight wheeze when she exhaled, signs of mild smoke inhalation.

She gently kissed the top of her head.

Alex twitched in her sleep. “Come back,” she muttered.

“Shh,” Emily murmured, smoothing Alex’s hair away from her face. “Momma’s here. I’m here, sweetheart.”

“Daddy.” Alex groaned and reached for something in her sleep. “Don’t leave me.”

Fresh tears stung Emily’s eyes. Her son was missing and her daughter was in pain. She clasped Alex’s searching hand and wished that just this once, it was she whom Alex called for in her sleep.

Alex stood in the den of her childhood home and knew she was dreaming again.