Authors: Megan Morgan
Jason and Diego helped pull June down, Micha above her. They were crying, too, as they gathered her into their arms. They held her upright, because her legs were no longer working.
Micha sat in the helicopter, legs dangling over the side, hands on his knees and shoulders slumped. He looked exhausted and still sickly.
“Robbie is dead,” Sam said.
Cindy clamped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes shone.
“So is Occam,” June said weakly, clinging to Jason.
Jason clutched her tighter and kissed the top of her head.
“So is the Institute,” Sam said. “It’s gone.”
Cindy took her hand from her mouth. “Like…
gone
gone?”
“Gone.”
Trina climbed out of the helicopter. Aaron had gotten out too. He walked over to them, fists and jaw clenched.
“Now that you’re all alive and well”—his voice was clipped—“how about I fucking kill you? What part of this did you think was a good idea, Sam?”
Sam waved a languid hand. “Please don’t punch me right now. Let me get my breath first.”
“Muse saved us,” June said. “She told us to go up instead of down. We never would have made it to the helicopter without her.”
Aaron frowned at her, furrowing his brow. She didn’t know if that would be the last of Muse, if she was at peace now or still had work to do.
June looked into the helicopter and then stumbled over to Cindy. Jason followed, holding her up.
“Cindy.” June reached for her.
Cindy let go of Sam and reached for June too.
“I need you to do something. Do you have your car?”
Cindy blinked, tears slipping down her cheeks. “Yes.”
June pointed to the helicopter. “I need you to get Anthony. Put him in your car. Drive him out to the storehouse.”
Cindy tilted her head.
June looked at Sam. “Beyond human energy. There’s nothing to see out there. Maybe it’ll save him.”
Sam nodded. “Do it, Cindy. Take him out to the storehouse. I’ll call you soon with further instructions.”
“Listen.” June scrabbled at her arm. “Don’t stay. Put him in the storehouse and leave, get away from him. Drive away and wait for Sam to call. Please, Cindy. We’ll explain later. I promise.”
Cindy chewed her bottom lip. “Okay. I’m so confused, but okay.”
June looked at Jason. “Help her get him out and into the car.”
Jason let go of her and Diego took over. Cindy and Jason climbed into the helicopter. June couldn’t let him die by his own mind, not after everything he’d done and everything they’d put him through.
Trina gently touched her arm, June’s wounded wrist cradled against her stomach.
“We need to get you to a hospital,” Trina said. “I know a broken wrist when I see one.”
“No. I need you to take me to your lab.”
“I’m not that kind of doctor. I can’t set bones.”
“Take me to your lab first. Can you run some tests on me?”
Trina frowned. “What kind of tests? I don’t—”
“Can you test the paranormal hormones inside me, see how many there are?”
“I… Yes, it’s a simple stick test, but I don’t know why—”
“Take me there first.” She lurched away from Diego and gripped Trina’s arm. “Please. I need to know.”
Micha still sat in the helicopter. He and Sam were both gazing at her.
“Please, Trina,” June said softly.
Trina sighed. “I’m not sure how I can deny someone who just put an end to the Institute.”
June sagged. “Oh, that wasn’t us. That was the bad guys. The only good they ever did.”
* * * *
June sat on an exam table in Trina’s office in a daze. She wasn’t ready to process what she’d been through. She wasn’t ready to think about how she’d escaped certain death not once, not twice, but three times tonight. She wasn’t ready to think about killing a vampire with a screwdriver, or Robbie bleeding all over the table, or that one standing crag of the Institute as the rest fell into burning ruins.
Her mind was full of static. She was hungry, thirsty, tired, miserable.
And nauseated.
Trina supported June’s arm in a makeshift sling so she didn’t jostle her wrist too much, and a bag of ice was tucked in there to bring down the swelling. June refused the painkillers Trina offered for several reasons, one being that she would puke them back up without food in her stomach.
The clinic was quiet. Everyone else was out in the waiting room. Trina was able to enter the clinic and shut off the security system. She said she would probably get a reprimand when the clinic administrators found out, but she didn’t seem to care too much.
“How the hell did you get Micha out of the hospital?” June asked.
Trina was looking at a chart in her hands. “It was easier than I expected. When you texted me to say it was going down, I went to his room and told him, and he told me what you were planning. We knew we couldn’t let you do it on your own, so I called Aaron. I figured if anyone could save you guys, it was him.”
“And he rented a helicopter.”
“It was a long shot. He said maybe we could land on the roof and get inside, get you out of there, or help bring Robbie down. We were planning a rescue mission, but not the way it turned out. The building was already on fire when we got within sight of it.”
“So again, how did you get Micha out?”
“I pretended to take him downstairs for some tests. And we just…left.” She shrugged. “I know the security at that hospital. Micha being ‘guarded’ was a lot of smoke and mirrors. They were just trying to keep the press out.”
“Aren’t you going to be in trouble?”
“Maybe. Micha says he’ll tell them he ran away on his own, but I don’t think that’s going to fly.” She shrugged. “I’m working for the cause now. You guys are on the right side, and I want to be too. I’ll take whatever I’ve got coming to me.”
Another soldier for Sam. At least he had her vote.
Trina had a little monitor, like a glucose monitor. She stepped up next to June and showed her the screen. It said 108. She handed June the chart.
“These are paranormal hormone levels,” Trina said. “A non-paranormal person is zero. One to sixty denotes weak or practically useless powers. But”—she tapped the chart—“sixty-one to one-ten are normal levels. You’re on the high side, but you’re in normal range.”
June smiled.
“Of course, I don’t know what your level was before. Since you wouldn’t let me do any tests on you.”
“One eighty-six,” June said. “They tested me at the Institute.”
One-eleven to one-sixty were considered “high.” Anything above that was “abnormally high to rare.”
“I guess that explains things,” June said. “Why my eyes seem duller. I don’t use my powers much so I haven’t noticed a change in that. Why do I still have necromancy, though?”
“If you gain a power, you’re not going to lose it.” Trina set the chart and monitor aside on a table. “You’ll have it forever. Even if your power weakens. It’ll just be weaker.”
“Great, so I get to see ghosts forever.” She heaved a sigh. “That’s probably why I haven’t seen them much lately. I only saw Rose once, at the Institute. And Muse three times…four, if you count both times at the Institute. She had trouble manifesting to me, and it’s probably because of my powers weakening, not because of anything on her part.”
Trina folded her arms, her gaze sharp through her glasses. “Why are your powers weakening?”
June shifted her arm and winced. She rolled her head, trying to work the soreness out of her neck. “I need you to do another test. If you can do that here. I’ll pee in a cup for you.”
Trina had the means. Peeing in a cup with only one good arm, while every inch of her body hurt, was a feat to rival anything else she’d pulled off tonight. She returned to the table to wait, lying down and staring at the ceiling.
About five minutes later, Trina showed her a stick with two blue lines.
June took it with a sigh. “Goddamn it. What was I expecting, though? I was stupid so many times.”
“The baby changed your chemistry.” Trina sounded awed. “It’s been known to happen, women completely losing their powers, or having them reduced when they get pregnant. A fetus alters your DNA in certain ways. This baby is saving your life.”
June turned the stick over in her fingers. “Will I resume dying when it’s born?”
“In the cases I’ve read about, the mother remains altered even after the birth. You can’t exactly put your DNA back the way it was.” She scrunched up her nose. “Congratulations?”
June set the stick aside and drummed her fingers on her chest. “I have a little problem….”
“I’m sure this wasn’t planned, but what a blessing in disguise. There’s always abortion or adoption, if you and Sam aren’t ready.”
June rubbed her face. “That’s the problem. I don’t know if it’s Sam’s.”
Trina didn’t seem shocked or offended. She simply nodded. “Oh.”
June flopped her arm at her side. “It’s too close to say. I know. I’m dumb. We should have been using protection, given our situation. Sam and I were, but not at first. And Micha and I kinda screwed up one night. Here, actually. The night Occam brought us here so you could test him.”
Trina shook her head. “Romance.”
“I know, right?” June sagged. “Unless I’m only a few weeks along, there’s no way to say for certain it’s Sam’s. My periods have always been erratic because of my weight issues, so they’re not a good indicator. Hell, I’m not even sure how I managed to ovulate. And Occam’s vampire pregnancy test didn’t tell me anything except I am.”
“Occam knew you were pregnant?” Trina grimaced.
“He was going to turn me. But when he tasted my blood, he knew I was pregnant. That’s why he was going to kill me, and I had to kill him first.” She looked down at her sling. “He only wanted me if I was powerful.”
“I didn’t know vampires could taste pregnancy hormones. Of course, vampires don’t like being studied.”
“If you can find his charred corpse, you can study him.” She paused. “Is it kind of weird I’m gonna miss him a little? He pulled my ass—all our asses—out of the fire multiple times. For his own selfish reasons, but still.”
Trina patted her shoulder. “That’s the Stockholm Syndrome talking, honey.”
June shook her head. “God. I’m the most pragmatic person on earth. I don’t deal in irresponsibility. How the hell do I have baby daddy drama? How the hell do I even have a baby?”
“I’d say it’s a good thing you do.”
“If I’d known, maybe all this could have been avoided.” She touched her stomach.
“You have a lot to think about. Go to the hospital, get your wrist fixed. Get an appointment set up for prenatal care, or alternately, an abortion. But don’t make any decisions right now. You’ve been through a lot. You need to decompress before you can even begin to think straight.”
“You said a mouthful.”
While Trina shut down her lab, June went out to the waiting room.
They had the TV on, and of course, the coverage was all about the Institute. On the screen was footage of the flaming wreckage with firefighters in the foreground. At the bottom of the screen it said, “Massive Explosion at the Institute For Supernatural Research: Thirteen Confirmed Dead.”
Jason and Diego sat on a couch together, Sam on the arm of it. Sam watched her as she walked into the room, his eyes questioning.
Micha sat in a chair adjacent to the couch. He was hunched over, his head in his hands. Rose’s notebook lay open across his knees.
June went to him and touched his shoulder. He was trembling. He lifted his head and tears streaked down his face.
“I’m glad I could get that to you.” She stroked his hair, mostly dark now, the blond faded. “It was what she wanted.”
Micha shook his head. He dropped it back in his hands, choking out a sob. “How could I be so stupid? How could I think she would do that to me?”
“Because you were a victim, and it’s hard to think straight when you’re being victimized, trust me.” She bent over and slid her good arm around him, resting her chin on the back of his head. She focused on Sam. “It’s all right,” she said softly. “Now you can go through the process of mourning her.”
Maybe her words weren’t a consolation, but it was the first step to moving on—if he was around long enough to move on.
Sam stood up. “Can I talk to you for a moment, June?”
She let go of Micha.
They walked to a hallway off the waiting room. Sam stood across from her, hands on his hips.
“Is it true?” he asked.
“Yes. I just had Trina do a test. It’s saving my life. Changing my DNA and reducing my powers. I’d be jumping up and down right now if I had the energy.” She took a breath. “The Institute is gone. Robbie is gone. Occam’s gone. We’re safe, for the first time ever, and yet… I just want to sleep.”
“I know the feeling.”
They were silent. Soft sounds drifted from the waiting room—the TV, Micha’s sniffling.
“Is it mine?” Sam asked.
She pressed her arm to her stomach and winced.
“I don’t know. If it is, what do you think about it?”
His posture was stiff. She couldn’t deal with the deluge of drastic changes in their lives right now. This wasn’t the time.
“What do you think about it?” he asked.
“I think I can’t make any choices right now. I think it’s a blessing of sorts, if it’s going to keep me from dying. Beyond that—I don’t want to think about it right now.”
“Micha is dying too. He can’t be saved the same way, obviously.”
“I guess the result of his situation remains to be seen. I didn’t think there was any hope for me, either. We tend to get lucky.”
He walked over to her and touched her cheek.
“I do love you, June.”
She gazed up at him. “I know. And I love you, too, whatever happens.”
“Are you going to tell Micha?”
She shook her head. “Not right now. I’m not telling anyone but you and Trina.”
He nodded.
“I need to go to the hospital.” She lifted her arm. “And make up a story about how this happened, not to mention my other bumps and bruises.”
“Yes, we don’t want to place ourselves anywhere near the Institute tonight.”
“I hope no one tracked Aaron’s helicopter.”
“Speaking of which.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I have a check to write….”