Chapter 53
Chapter Fifty-Three
Hands shaking, Marisol reached for her toothbrush when she was sure she wasn’t going to puke again. Mostly sure.
In the ER she’d seen the most horrific sights. Motorcycle crashes alone were enough to leave anyone’s psyche scarred. Never once had she shied away from a trauma patient. Never once had she gotten physically sick—not even when she was still in training and observed the autopsy of a man who’d been pulled from a canal. A canal where he’d been floating for weeks. When her classmates were being dramatic about the sights and smells, Marisol stood next to the instructor, asking questions.
Nothing could ever prepare her for witnessing a killing. The horror at The Roads had at least been necessary self-preservation. She could find solace in the gray area of necessity. Plus, Elena’s guys had moved so fast, Marisol had only really registered the aftermath. She hadn’t exactly seen the moment those lives were cut short.
Closing her eyes after she’d rinsed out her mouth, Marisol tried to stem the tide of images assaulting her mind. Elena hadn’t been overcome with emotions. She hadn’t been blinded by rage or fear. She’d made the calm, cold decision to kill without ever considering another option.
The image of Elena with a man’s blood dripping from her teeth burned in Marisol’s brain until it was seared into her frontal lobe. She wanted to forget it. Wanted to undo it. Forcing herself to look in the mirror, hair in a messy ponytail and eyes bloodshot, she had to admit that she couldn’t. She had to accept that she’d not done more to get Elena to take a different path. She hadn’t tried her hardest.
After washing her face with cold water a few more times, Marisol emerged from the powder room closest to Elena’s office. She’d hoped that all the vampires would be gone, that she’d have time to talk to Elena before she made her next move, but the huge open kitchen was full of people. At the center of it all, Elena and Librada were standing in front of a laptop.
“If we enter from this side…” Librada pointed to the screen. “That will give us the optimal tactical advantage.”
Elena nodded before looking up, catching Marisol while she was still closing the bathroom door behind her. But Marisol couldn’t return her gaze. Even in a fresh pair of trousers and oversized men’s shirt unbuttoned to her cleavage, all Marisol could see was blood and death. Stomach churning again, she turned away.
While she strode to the terrace as quickly as her wobbly legs would carry her, she considered going in the other direction and out the front door. Maybe what she needed to gather her thoughts was some space. But she didn’t want to go back to her apartment, and she couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. She couldn’t think of a single thing she wanted apart from un-witnessing murder.
Outside, the night was already more summer than spring. The air was thick and humid, signaling that another rainstorm was on its way. Up so high, at least the constant breeze dried the sickly cold sweat off of her skin.
She’d only managed to plop down on a white sectional skirting the lap pool when the glass door behind her opened and closed. She knew it was Elena before she neared. Before she’d spoken a word.
“Let’s have it out then,” Elena said when she stood in front of her, wind blowing her loose wavy hair to one side.
Marisol bristled at the hard edge in her voice. At the cold, unrecognizable emotion in her eyes.
“What do you think those fucking animals would have done with you, huh?” Elena’s entire body was humming with the energy of a detonated landmine seconds from bursting through the dirt. Ready to spray rocks and fire and limbs. “They would have killed you in a heartbeat. You and Zuri both. They would have done it without sparing a second thought.” Her face paled, eyes bulging. “Them deciding to kill you quickly would have been the best case scenario for you. Do you understand that?”
Jaw slack, Marisol stared at her. How could Elena possibly be so angry? Hadn’t she gotten all the vengeance that her heart desired?
“I know there are thoughts swirling in there, Marisol.” She raised her brows. “Let’s hear them.”
Marisol cocked her head to one side. Heart hammering, she let the truth fly free. “You didn’t even stop to consider an alternative short of death.”
“An alternative?” Elena’s laugh was absolutely mirthless. “With a creature who could live forever?” She glanced up at the sky as if calling for reinforcements. “And what’s that alternative? What kind of rehabilitation program would you recommend for someone happy to take all the lives they can for just the possibility of a little power?”
Marisol stood, thighs still trembling but stomach calming. She only had a meager height advantage over Elena, but she stretched her neck to make it apparent. Holding Elena’s dark, furious gaze, she asked, “Is there any difference between killing to get power and killing to keep it? It’s just as bad?—”
“Of course it’s different,” Elena pressed. “I didn’t stage some coup for my place at the top, Marisol. I have followed the rules we have to stop this exact kind of senseless killing. There is an order to things. In the human world aren’t there consequences for breaking the social contract?—”
“Yeah, but the price for everything isn’t death,” Marisol replied instead of stepping back.
“And yet an eye for an eye is about as old a law as anything.”
“So vengeance is okay?” Marisol shook her head. “We shouldn’t try to do better just because?—”
“It’s not vengeance,” Elena said with an unexpected crack in her voice. “It’s retribution. It’s repayment in kind. You seem to forget that I didn’t start any of this, Marisol.” She was as close to pleading as Marisol could imagine her getting. “You don’t know the innocent people they’ve killed.” Her eyes, glossy with grief, reflected the city lights. “The beautiful lives that did not deserve to end. And not to say anything of me.” She stepped back. “They tried to kill me and nearly succeeded. That piece of shit in there threatened to kill every human in your little emergency room if we didn’t keep quiet, did you forget that? Children, the incapacitated. What does that tell you of their deserving something short of death?”
Marisol hadn’t forgotten. She’d thought of that terrifying moment in the hospital a hundred times. It was that exact horror she was hoping to avoid. “But don’t you want to be better than them? To choose?—”
“Choose what?” Elena’s anger was back, a living fire seeking oxygen to consume. “Choose to pretend that the rules of the world aren’t what they fucking are? That’s not a luxury I have, babe,” she said without a shred of warmth. “It’s my job to keep my people safe, and no one is safe while these misguided extremists draw breath. They have fired every shot, and I will make sure they answer for each one.”
“So you’re going to kill them all? What if there are people who are just caught up in this? People who might have gotten caught up in an idea without realizing where it would lead?” Tears pricked at the back of Marisol’s eyes. “I can’t understand what you lost, but there has to be another way?—”
“No, you can’t understand, but what shocks me is that you haven’t even tried,” she replied with quiet disappointment.
All Marisol wanted was for Elena to take a beat and consider whether mass murder was really the only acceptable resolution. But the more Marisol talked, the more she was obviously saying the wrong things. She wanted to reach out to Elena. To quell her anger and speak to her rational side. To tell her how much she cared about her. How she didn’t want to lose her or Zuri, but she didn’t want Elena to take any lives if it could be avoided.
Behind her, the sliding glass door opened again before Marisol could formulate her plea. Before she could figure out a way to tell Elena just how deeply she felt and how far she would go to protect her. To tell her she didn’t have to stain her hands with so much more blood.
Zuri’s presence on the terrace preceded her voice thundering into the humid night. “Enough,” she commanded, voice like a predator’s growl. Like she’d been eavesdropping. Stepping between Elena and Marisol, her gaze flickered back and forth. “Both of you, back the fuck off.”
Elena glared at her. “This does not concern you?—”
“The hell it doesn’t.” Zuri’s stare was unwavering like she was pinning Elena in place with her gaze. Like Zuri hadn’t witnessed how effortless it had been for her to kill two vampires. “It’s no time to be fighting. So Bambi, you go inside and soak in that stupid clawfoot tub or something,” she said like an angry sitcom dad TV before turning to Elena. “And you go tell your merry band of bloodsuckers to take a fucking walk. Murder will still be on the damn menu in a couple of hours.”
“I don’t have time—” Elena started, but Zuri didn’t let her finish.
“Then you better make it,” Zuri interrupted. “Cool off both of you.” The words coupled with her glare was a warning. “I’m not here for this dysfunctional ass shit. You have an hour to get it together so we can talk this shit out, or I’m gone. We fucking talk. We don’t fight.”
She turned her attention to Marisol as if Elena didn’t need to hear what she was going to say. Like she’d already learned the lesson. “Bambi, I don’t make empty threats. You’re either ready to drop this holier than thou bullshit in an hour and resolve this, or this is it for me.”
Swallowing the surprise that had turned into a lump in her throat, Marisol furrowed her brow. She started to walk off the terrace, not because Zuri had told her to, but because she needed to take some emotional inventory. If she was coming off as self-righteous, she was definitely not getting her point across.