Grave Danger (43 page)

“
Are you all right, Jackson?” Clarissa said,
touching his back, moving his hand away to see if he was bleeding.
He wasn’t. “Jackson, I’m so sorry.” She continued to fuss over him
until he stopped her by taking her hand and bending forward to look
down into her troubled eyes.

“
You weren’t like him, Clarissa.” He made the
quiet comment, the soft deep voice that was so Jackson. “Maybe you
weren’t completely innocent, but then none of us really are. But
you were never like he is, a real monster.”

“
Thank you for saying that,” Clarissa spoke
quietly as she fixed his shirt and tie that been horribly wrenched
loose from Olivier’s near stranglehold. “But it isn’t true. I was
exactly like Olivier when I was alive. It didn’t matter that I hurt
people. All I knew was what he’d told me about abnormalities in
this world, and I believed him. Maybe that’s why I didn’t move on.
Maybe I’m being punished for the crimes I committed against those
people I saw as aberrations in my world.”

“
I don’t want to go back in there, Jackson,”
she said, stepping away from him. “I don’t want to be with those
people anymore.” Clarissa wiped against her face making sure she
wasn’t crying, at least not on the outside. “What time is it?” she
asked Jackson. Clarissa hadn’t thought to put on a watch and
Cyrus’s house was devoid of any clocks. She speculated that Cyrus
didn’t like the look of time as he had spent most of his being
dead.

Jackson looked down at his right wrist. Some days he
was left handed and other days he wasn’t. “It’s about quarter till
ten. They’re likely finished eating and probably getting ready to
go into the parlor. I’ll take you home if you like.”

“
No,” Clarissa interjected. “Stay, you should
stay and enjoy yourself. I think it would be good for you to do a
little self PR work. The Spectral Services need someone like you,
Jackson. That is, if you still want to be an S.S. member one
day.”

“
Of course I do,” he answered, adjusting his
coat.

Jackson took Clarissa’s coat from the walk in closet
by the front door. He was one of the few who could touch
non-tangible objects made by the Eidolon people. The problem with
things made by magick, however, was that it didn’t last long. The
energy always wanted to return to its natural state, which was why
Clarissa never wore any article of clothing twice as she couldn’t.
Magick preservatives could be placed in the garment, but even then
it wasn’t enough. The beautiful dress Clarissa was wearing tonight
would dissolve back into the natural world in a matter of days if
she was lucky. Already it had been a few days since its conception.
All the Eidolon cloths had a short expiration date.

Clarissa hugged the coat to her. Not because it
provided warmth, at least not physically. She reached into her
pocket to get out her cell phone when Cyrus burst through the
double doors, taking up the extra energy in the room by his
presence alone. Those doors were getting more use tonight than they
got in a month. Clarissa watched as “his majesty” made his grand
entrance.

“
Ms. Schofield, will you be joining us in the
parlor.” His all seeing gray eyes roved up and down her person as
if he were looking at more than just the physical spectrum that
most saw. “Or do you still require a few more moments to yourself?”
His eyes caught sight of his broken antique table before drawing
his attention back to them. He closed the doors behind
him.

“
You certainly are a trouble maker, Clarissa.”
It was the first time Cyrus had ever addressed her so informally.
“If your previous associations with Mr. Prince hinder your ability
to serve on the advisory committee then I ask that you step down
from your post. I do not tolerate my council members to make an
exhibition of their selves in my home. We are very fortunate to
have found him. His willingness to assist in community matters is
hanging on a very tight thread, one that could easily snap if he
finds us less than welcoming. Do we have an understanding
then?”

Clarissa nodded, turning her focus down on the phone
in her hands. She scrolled through her list of numbers until she
found the one she wanted. She pressed to connect, putting it up to
her ear.

As it was ringing she looked up the far distance to
the oldest of her kind. The man who could very easily squash her
like an irritating and unimportant bug under his Cesare Paciotti
inspired dress shoes which cost him just as much, if not more to
have the likeness on his feet. If he thought she could tolerate her
ex-fiancé and attempted murder – she wasn’t sure it could be called
murder because she still walked this earth – then Mr.
Stiff-upper-lip Cercopoly had another thing coming to him.

“
I understand you’re a self-righteous ass,”
she said to his slightly shocked face. Clarissa was sure no one had
ever spoken to him like that. At least not in some time, several
decades if not more and Clarissa liked the thought that she was the
first to put him in his place in all that time.

Clarissa walked the distance to her date and reached
up to kiss Jackson on his astonished and adorable face. He looked
good tonight in his suit. Any girl with a quarter of a brain in her
head could see that Jackson was a fine catch and not just because
he looked good in a suit. He was a good kid and one day he’d be a
fine man.

With a dignified air in her step she walked to the
front door. Corrigan’s phone was still ringing yet he wasn’t
picking up. He had a tendency to lose it, though as yet she
couldn’t guess how. The old brick of a phone was huge. Just as she
had the door open and was ready to walk out she turned back to face
the man who lead the Eidolon people of St. Augustine.

“
I would rather die again than be on your
advisory council, you uptight jerk. Both you and your bokor buddy
can go fuck each other till the sun comes up for all I care.” She
forced a pleasant smile on her face for her date. “Good night,
Jackson.” She slammed the door shut behind her.

Chapter 24-

“
Are you feeling all right?” Clarissa pressed
her fingers to his forehead, finding his skin cool, almost clammy
to the touch. Corrigan shook his head up and down, but even that
small movement looked like it took more effort than it
should.

Making a concerned frown, Clarissa drew a line along
the curve of his dark eyebrow. Corrigan wasn’t well and even in her
ignorance of his species she knew what the cause of his current
state of health meant.

She was killing him and he was slowly dying for her.
Clarissa, with the full awareness of the woman she had been in life
morphed and molded with the woman she had come to be in death now
had a very different understanding of Corrigan’s dependence on
taking lives. It went against every moral code she had developed as
a human.

Clarissa wasn’t entirely human, not anymore.

Love for Corrigan had changed the rules and she
could see how women could so easily fall for men who chose a
dangerous life; one that for those on the outside with little
investment could quickly condemn. And whether it was right or
wrong, when it came down to choosing between the love of her
existence and some faceless/nameless victim she would choose
Corrigan.

Clarissa had met Corrigan on the bridge. He had
given her one long look up and down at her in her dress and heels
and smiled in obvious approval. He’d kissed her then and there, and
with that kiss had wiped away the last bitter tastes of Olivier
from her mouth. Several minutes later when he’d pulled back he’d
told her she was over dressed for tonight and that his sisters
wanted to take her out for a girl’s get together.

Standing now in the hall on the second floor of the
main house, Corrigan stood with one hand in his jeans pocket the
other braced against the wall next to him. He watched with
apprehensive eyes as Clarissa knocked on the closed door.

The door was opened as Helen stood poised with one
hand on the door while the other reached out to take Clarissa’s
hand. Clarissa was startled for a moment when their skin touched.
But Helen just smiled at Clarissa and pulled her into the room.

“
Sorry, Cor, your level of testosterone isn’t
allowed inside. We’ll take good care of her.” Helen propelled
Clarissa further into the room while she remained on female guard
duty at the open door. Even as Corrigan tried to peer around her to
see Clarissa in the guest bedroom Helen wouldn’t allow him to go
any further than the entryway.

As he was looking over Helen’s head into the
brightly lit room, he felt someone coming up behind him. Corrigan
turned in time to find Chas standing just behind him in the
hallway. He moved forward to hand something to his wife, a pair of
earrings.

“
Thanks for getting them, baby,” she said,
rising up to kiss him on his dark cheek. “Now if you’ll both excuse
me, we have some serious preparations to get through before we go
out.” With that she slammed the heavy door to the guest room closed
in their faces.

Both men could hear the music as it was turned up
several clicks, nearly drowning out any female chattering that was
going on inside. Corrigan and Chas stood silent in the hallway, not
sure what to say to the other.

Chas was the first one to break the silence. “You’re
coming out with us tonight whether you like it or not.” His words
were meant to be abrasive and to the point, but Corrigan knew his
slightly older brother well enough to catch the emotion in his
voice. So they all knew he’d stopped hunting. That he’d drunk more
than his share of liquor and was slowly letting his body turn
against him. “I don’t give a fuck about your noble motivation
because if it comes to force I won’t hesitate. None of us asked to
be what we are and it’s the very nature of the world that you
either eat or get eaten. It can’t be helped that the humans aren’t
the top of the food chain, they never have been.”

Corrigan remained standing still, one hand braced on
the wall as he stared transfixed at the closed door. He suspected
that Clarissa knew more than she let on. And he knew that despite
his resolve he couldn’t hold out forever. Already it was so much
effort just to stand in this hallway. It had been a few days since
his intervention with Debora and Trueman. They’d tried to give him
a transfusion like a normal human, but it wasn’t enough. The blood
wasn’t fresh enough and already its nutritional value had depleted
by half.

“
I know, Chas.” Corrigan made the statement,
his head slightly bowed and now looking at the bottom of the door.
He didn’t feel himself and for a moment he imagined that the floor
was rising up to meet him. It wasn’t.

“
You are too fucking heavy to carry,” Chas
grumbled as he caught his younger brother before he kissed the
hallway floor with his fall. Corrigan, despite his weight lose, was
still several inches taller than Chas and it was quite a load to
take his full weight. Chas sagged under their combined weight and
then he felt the weight lessen. Looking up from his bent position
he found Trueman with one of Corrigan’s arms slung over his
neck.

“
I’ll help you take him downstairs,” Trueman
said, his glasses riding slightly askew on his nose. “I’ve brought
a couple of bags of fluids to put in him. That should do until we
can get him something more substantial.” He watched as Corrigan’s
head flopped forward on his chest. “He’s in no position to put up a
fight tonight.”

Corrigan mumbled something incoherent.

“
Shut the fuck up, Cor,” Chas barked at his
brother as they made their way down the stairs, his weight
dispersed between him and Trueman. “No one gives a shit what you
think right now.”

Clarissa watched through the crack in the door as
the brothers took Corrigan down the stairs. She had thought he’d
seen her watching them, but then his face had become blank and then
he’d nearly fallen on his face.

“
They’ll take good care of him,” Helen
whispered near her ear. Clarissa turned around with a start nearly
colliding with woman. “Sorry, I didn’t scare you, did I?” she said
with a teasing grin.

“
They’re going to take Cor out whether he
likes it or not,” Margaret Ann stated as she stood by the portable
CD player set on the varnished antique dresser top. She was only
half dressed and dancing to the
Cranberries
, the volume set to a high
decibel.

Most of the women were only partially dressed or in
the process of changing, all the while dancing to the music coming
from the stereo. Clarissa imagined this was what a burlesque show
would look like.

“
You’re not going to wear that are you?”
Margaret Ann said, sauntering over to where Clarissa stood by the
door. “That’s way too formal.” She twirled around Clarissa eyeing
her up and down. “What else you got?”

Clarissa looked down at herself in her rose satin
dress and matching shoes then to the other women in the room.

Helen was wearing a short skirt in a dark plum
color, a flowing matching top with tiny bell sleeves and large
hooped silver earrings. Maude was kneeling gracefully on the large
four poster bed in the guest room with her hands raised high above
her head as she swayed to the next tune on the stereo. Aaliyah, if
Clarissa wasn’t mistaken. She had on a dark, almost black denim
jean, a shimmery top in her hands. At the moment she was just
wearing the jeans and her pink lace bra, her red hair streaming
loose around her body. Debora was in a tight camisole top, a frothy
looking scarf about her long neck dancing at the end of the bed,
one hand wrapped around one of the posters as Clarissa got a clear
view of her blue underwear with a rainbow painted over the butt.
Margaret Ann was wearing leggings dyed a dark fuchsia color and a
pink top that started out dark on the hem and lightened as the
fabric went on. She wore a sparkling gold belt over her slender
hips and bright sequined flowers covered most of the top. They all
looked like were in a sexy candy company advertisement.