He said the last word, stabbing his finger out at Shelby, much like Gwendolyn had done then, and got up off the bench, feeling the need to move then, before he completely broke down. He walked over to the sliding glass door, looking up at the dark skies that spit rain down on the window, thinking of all the times he had wanted to shed tears for that moment but had refused himself the right.
“Nick . . .” Shelby said, her tone consolatory.
He raised a hand to silence her. “She said . . . ‘If you love me, you will do it.’” Nick reached out and touched the drops running down the outside of the window, feeling the tears that now burned down his cheeks.
A moment later, Shelby’s hand was on his shoulder. “Goddamnit, babe. You should’ve told me this a long time ago. You didn’t need to carry that around all this time.”
He nodded, unable to speak for a moment. Finally, he said, “Sorry.”
She slugged him in the shoulder. “If that’s for refusing to tell me all these years, then fine, I’ll accept. Otherwise, you have nothing to be sorry for, hon.” She reached up and turned Nick’s face toward hers, and there was a tear running down her cheek as well. “Even the sheriff can be human.”
Chapter 37
If you love me.
Jackie watched them in silence, Shelby’s hand caressing the square line of Nick’s jaw, wiping at the tears on his face. The image was hard to comprehend, but she understood. If Carl had been there with a knife in her back, telling her that if she drank her mother’s blood, she would have the chance at revenge, she would not have thought twice about it. The thought made her stomach squirm. Maybe she would have chickened out in the end. Watching Nick now had her wondering if she could have stomached the consequences of such an act.
Nick looked different to her now. Everything about him and how he had been made some kind of sense. He wanted justice, even if he had to sacrifice everything to get it, but now she realized just how difficult that was. How could he have known what would happen once that decision was made? Would it have mattered? No, Jackie figured, it would not. He would endure until justice was achieved or die trying. She appreciated that and realized maybe they were more alike than she had thought. Laurel had been right. Jackie sighed and sipped more of her cold coffee.
Shelby stepped away from Nick and pointed at the piano. “Play something, babe. Don’t argue with me, just do it.”
He glanced over at Jackie, but she could not tell what the look meant, and he gave a helpless shrug and walked back over to the piano bench. Suddenly, Jackie felt self-conscious, remembering the perfect, beautiful baby grand he had sitting in his loft. Hers was likely horribly out of tune in comparison.
“Come on, Jackie. Shower. You look like hell,” Shelby said with a smile, motioning at her to get up. “And Nick could use a few minutes, I think.”
She glanced over at Nick, who sat staring at the keys. She really wanted nothing more than to hear him play. Shelby waved at her again, more insistent this time, and Jackie finally struggled to her feet, noticing for the first time since waking up that her body hurt. “Okay, you’re right, a shower will feel good.”
To her surprise, Shelby followed her in and closed the door. Before Jackie could ask what she was doing in there with her, she slid her pants down and sat heavily on the toilet, sighing with obvious relief. “Christ! I never saw that coming. Only a guy could sit on something like that for so long.”
Jackie nodded, not exactly comfortable standing there watching the strange, headstrong woman pee in the toilet. She had to admit, though, that Shelby was growing on her. The woman was confident, knew what she wanted, and seemed utterly capable of getting it. She also drank blood. “Yeah, I suppose so.”
Notes from the piano began to roll down the hall toward them like a sad wash of fog, seeping into every surface. The music plucked on Jackie’s heartstrings with a haunting finesse. God, he really was good.
Shelby looked at the door and frowned. “He never had a name for that piece, but now I think it must be
Ode to Gwen
or something equally sentimental.”
“It’s very sad,” Jackie said.
She nodded. “Yep. That’s our Nick, far too maudlin for his own good.” She flushed and stood back up. “Okay, shower. Now. I want to go get breakfast soon.”
Jackie turned and caught her reflection in the mirror. Shit! She had been sitting out there with them all this time looking like this? More disturbing were the bandages around her wrists. They made her look like a suicide patient. “Are you taking one with me or something?”
Shelby offered a sly smile. “Did you want me to?”
“Um.” Jackie gulped. Okay, wrong question. “No, not really.”
“Okay then,” she replied, laughing. “Get in there and take one. And scrub with something foofy. You still smell like tequila.”
Jackie’s face flushed. God, she was worse than a mother. Feeling more than a little self-conscious, Jackie hung her robe up on the hook behind the door and stepped into the shower. The music continued to invade the room, the melancholy notes bringing Laurel to mind more strongly than Jackie felt like coping with.
“Personal question?” she asked, sucking in her breath at the sting of water on her wrists as she unwound the gauze that covered them.
“Sure.”
“What’s it like having to drink blood to stay alive? Doesn’t that bother you?”
The electric shaver clicked on, and Jackie watched Shelby’s distorted, half-naked form begin shaving her legs. It was not a scene she would have imagined possible. “Yeah, but it’s a bit like being an addict, I think. You feel horrible for doing it, but it’s still wonderful when you do. When the other option is death, you sort of adjust your priorities.”
“So it’s that good? I just can’t wrap my mind around that.”
“Well,” she said, pausing while she perched the other leg on the toilet seat, “it’s kind of beside the point when you need it to live, but it’s . . . hmmm. You ever tried heroin?”
“What? God, no.”
“Ever had such a strong orgasm you nearly passed out?”
“That’s rhetorical, right?”
Shelby laughed. “No, actually. But I’m guessing the answer to that is no, which is too bad. You need better lovers then, hon. Anyway, the effect is the most perversely pleasurable thing imaginable.”
“Oh.” She washed in silence, her brain now turned to the absurd notion of cumming so hard that it could make you pass out. She wondered if Nick had been the one to do that to Shelby. Was it some kind of vampire thing? Some weird power they had?
“Regardless,” Shelby continued, “I wouldn’t recommend it. The withdrawal symptoms are a bitch.”
“But Nick found a way around it. You don’t actually drink real blood anymore.”
“Discounting the prick in the hospital? Yeah, but it’s a poor substitute. We’re far weaker on that shit.”
“Isn’t that better than having to drink someone’s blood?”
“According to Nick, yes.”
She sounded bitter. He had said something about them refusing to drink any more blood after he had developed the synthetic. “So you disagree with Nick’s abstaining?”
Shelby sighed and turned off the razor. “Nick believes that being moral is better than being just. He’s too pigheaded for his own good sometimes.”
Jackie thought about that while the water rinsed the shampoo from her hair. That was a tough call. Still, she wondered if she could live with herself if she needed to act immorally to achieve justice. “Why can’t you have both?”
The shower curtain pulled back, and Shelby stuck her head in. “You want to catch Laurel’s killer?”
The question churned her gut. “More than anything.”
Shelby’s face looked grim and sad. “Then it’s going to take blood. One way or another. Which is going to leave you with the clearer conscience in the end, Jackie? Morality or justice?”
Jackie realized unequivocally what the answer to that was. “I want to kill the fucker.”
Shelby nodded and grabbed a towel. “Exactly. And now you know why Nick just pisses me off.”
Jackie turned off the water and grabbed the towel. “He’s right, though, for the most part.” It occurred to her then just how hard it must be for him to try to balance those two clashing needs. “He thinks he’s going to die trying to get Drake, doesn’t he?”
“So do I,” Shelby stated. “It doesn’t stop me from doing what I think needs to be done.”
Her tone sent a shiver down Jackie’s spine. “That include drinking more blood?” Shelby’s look answered the question for her. “Just don’t tell me when you do, okay? I don’t want to have to arrest you.”
She laughed. “Hon, at that point, you won’t be able to.”
The thought chilled her. “You two scare the shit out of me.”
“We’re not the ones you need to be scared of, Jackie. We’re on your side.”
“I know that now.” She needed them. She needed to work with a couple vampires to catch another one. This supernatural shit was too much. The aching loneliness for Laurel’s presence suddenly burned inside her. Jackie draped the towel over the curtain rod and put her robe back on. “How am I going to do this, Shelby?” She had not meant to ask the question out loud. Shelby was a virtual stranger, yet she felt some sort of friendship to her already.
Shelby turned and looked at Jackie and immediately stepped over to give her a hug. “You start by getting through today, and, little by little, it will get easier. I miss her, too, and I barely knew her.”
Jackie swallowed back the tears that threatened to spill again. “It’s like the good half of me is gone now. I’m not even sure how to function anymore.”
“Aw, hon. I know the feeling, but you’ll rebuild yourself, and you’ll never forget the things she brought to your life.”
She sniffed against Shelby’s shoulder. “Yeah, I know, but . . . I never thought it could hurt this much.”
Shelby stepped back, her hands on Jackie’s shoulders. “You’ll need to be strong, Jackie, if you’re going to see her again.”
“What?”
“If Laurel crosses over again and tries to contact you, you need to be strong enough to handle that.”
“Then . . . last night? It was real?” She had not been imagining it. Laurel’s ghost had been trying to talk to her. “Fuck! I completely blew it.”
“Quit being so hard on yourself. It’s not an easy thing to deal with, and you had other issues.”
Jackie turned away. “You must think I’m a total nut job.”
“Hardly,” she reassured her, “but now is not the time to rehash old shit. That’s what therapists are for. The question is will you be able to handle seeing Laurel again when she shows up?”
The thought both exhilarated and terrified her. “You think she will?”
Shelby gave her a confident smile. “Oh, I think it’s a matter of when, not if.”
God! What the hell would she say?
Sorry about the whole “not saving you” thing? Great to see you, and really sorry you’re dead? I wish it had been me?
“I don’t know if I could talk to her without turning into a blubbering idiot.”
“Blubbering idiot is fine,” Shelby said and chuckled. “Just don’t pass out or run screaming in the other direction.”
“I’ll really see her again?” Jackie could hardly believe the possibility.
“Almost guaranteed, but it could be anytime or anywhere. I just want you to be prepared for the possibility.”
“Should I look forward to this?” she wondered. “What if Laurel’s really pissed off?”
Shelby reached up and grabbed Jackie’s deodorant off the shelf containing the few toiletries she had. “Laurel? Pissed? We talking about the same beautiful psychic here?”
“Okay, point taken. She wouldn’t be pissed. I think. So what do we do now?”
“Breakfast.”
The mere word made her stomach rumble in anticipation. “That sounds good. I’m actually hungry.”
Shelby followed her into the bedroom and borrowed a clean T-shirt. It was like having an older sister come by and rummage through her stuff. She watched Shelby slip off the old shirt, exposing a long, thorny rose vine tattooed down her spine. The stem disappeared somewhere between her cheeks. Seeing it reminded Jackie that Laurel had had a big thing for tattoos but never had the nerve to go get herself poked with needles to get one.
“Laurel would have really liked you,” she said. In its way, the statement was about as close as Jackie could get at the moment to admitting her like for Shelby.
Shelby gave her a wistful smile. “She did. I’m sad we didn’t have more time.”
Jackie heaved a sigh. Everything about Laurel was putting her on the constant verge of tears. “Me, too.”
“Come on, hurry up,” Shelby said. “You need to keep your mind from brooding, and that means getting back to work.”
“Am I strong enough for this?”
Why the hell am I asking her this?
She realized it would have been something to ask Laurel. Stability. Shelby Fontaine was about as rock solid as you could get, even if she did have one foot in the grave. “I feel like I have
loser
stamped on my forehead now.”
Shelby turned and crossed her arms over her chest, a very “what the fuck” look on her face. “You catch murderers for a living, Jackie. It doesn’t come much tougher than that. You didn’t catch them just because of Laurel. Prove it to yourself and to her. Remember, she’s dead, but she’s not gone.”
Jackie pulled on her boots and began to tie them. “You realize how ridiculous that sounds.”
“And true nonetheless.”
Yes. Disturbingly true. Laurel had tried to contact her and would probably try again. Was it possible to want and dread something so much at the same time?
Back out in the living room, Nick stopped his blissfully melancholy song when they exited the bedroom. “We going somewhere?”
Shelby nodded. “Breakfast. There’s a Cracker Barrel down the road.”
Nick looked at them both, and Jackie wondered what his thoughts were about this whole debacle. His gaze lingered on hers for a moment, studying her. He shrugged. “All right.”
She hated the fact that he was so difficult to read. Maybe Shelby would show her a trick to looking a vampire in the eye without completely freaking out. They were heading out the door when her cell phone rang. Picking it up, she saw that it came from Gamble. It was awfully early for a wake-up call.
“Hey, Jack,” he said with concern. “You functional?”
“More or less. Getting some food and coming in.”
“Good to hear, ’cause we’ve got vic number four here.”
Damnit. Cracker Barrel had actually sounded good.