28. Twenty-Eight #2
“You had to take care of yourself at a young age, and much too often,” Dad said, looking sad. “It made you independent, which is good in some ways, bad in others. You never ask for help.”
“That’s not true,” I protested. “I ask for help. I just don’t often need help.”
Dad narrowed his eyes. “I’m staying, and I will be doing this for you. If you argue with me, I’m going to start questioning him about his intentions.” He pointed at Knox.
“Oh, will you leave him alone?” I barked, frustration getting the better of me. “He’s not my suitor. We’re just … .” What was the word I wanted?
“We’re co-workers,” Knox replied, taking me by surprise. “We might be becoming friends.” Here he hesitated. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with the other stuff. We’re both a little too stubborn to think about that right now.”
My throat was suddenly thick with … what was the emotion I was feeling?
Dad eyed Knox with an expression I couldn’t make out, then smiled. “You’re going to make an interesting match.”
“Right?” Charlie bobbed her head. “They’re both stubborn and bossy. They’re going to fight constantly.”
“That’s not necessarily bad,” Dad replied. “My wife and I fight constantly. It leads to some interesting foreplay.”
I slapped my hand to my forehead. “This night is never going to end,” I muttered.
Lex gave me a goofy grin. “I’m having fun.”
“You’re the only one.”
He glanced at Knox, but I couldn’t see the wolf shifter’s expression. “I’m not so sure that’s true.”
DARKNESS FELL LIKE A CURTAIN, AND a damp smell permeated the air as we exited the van. It was time to disperse to catch Brett when he made his move.
“Let’s split up,” Lex said in a low voice. “Atticus and Freya should be together because she’ll need to use her magic to stop Brett. But her dad needs to be the one to kill him.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Dad said, though he appeared somewhat reticent. “It’s sad in a way. I have questions about who the real Axeman was.”
“Maybe it’s better we don’t know,” I said. “People glorify serial killers now and build them up to mythical proportions. This guy doesn’t need to be glorified.”
Dad opened his mouth, likely to argue, then nodded. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Where are we going? I’m sticking to you like glue until this is over.”
I rolled my eyes until they landed on Knox, imagining how happy he was going to be when he could break from this freak show. To my surprise, he looked amused.
“We’ll be in the backyard,” I replied, taking control. “I feel Brett will enter through the back.”
“We’ll take the front,” Lex said, elbowing Knox. “If we see him, we’ll let you know.”
“And we’ll stay in the van until we get the signal from you that he’s approaching,” Jack said. “If there are too many people on the streets, he might change his target. We need to end this here.”
The backyard of the Creole cottage — yes, another Creole cottage — was surrounded by a brick wall. Dad and I had to cut through the corner yard, jumping two walls to get to the backyard. Once there, we secreted ourselves in the shadows of the guesthouse.
“The bounty hunter doesn’t say much,” Dad noted as we waited for Brett to appear. “He’s the quiet sort.”
I gave my father a dirty look. “We’re not talking about Knox.”
“Why not?”
“There’s nothing to discuss. We’re just working with one another.”
“Please. He doesn’t think that. Neither do you, deep down. You two are clearly attracted to one another. Why not embrace it?”
“I cannot talk about this with my father. It’s weird.”
“I’m not a normal father.”
“No, you’re not.”
He was quiet so long I thought he was going to remain that way. I should have known better. “I was a bad father to you, and I’m sorry.”
It was unbelievable that he wanted to have this conversation now.
“You weren’t a bad father.” I rounded on him and glared. “You were a great father before … .”
“Before,” Dad said on a sigh. “Everything is divided into before and after. I hate it.”
Tears pricked the back of my eyes. “We don’t get to choose how things go. You’re not a bad father, so let it go.”
“I will if you promise to at least consider going out with the bounty hunter.”
Was he seriously blackmailing me? “What makes you think he wants to date me?” I challenged.
Dad burst out laughing, though he had the good sense to keep it quiet as a whisper. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
“How does he look at me?”
“The same way I look at your mother.”
My legs felt like jelly, but I couldn’t deal with the problem because we were no longer alone in the backyard. When we’d been talking, a lone figure had scaled the wall from the opposite direction we’d come from and landed in the courtyard.
I had good eyes thanks to my vampire half, and I didn’t have to struggle to make out the face of the individual studying the back of the house. It was Brett.
Dad had forgotten our previous conversation and was concentrating on the shadow peeking into the windows. It didn’t look in our direction once. “He smells human,” Dad whispered. Heck, it was barely a whisper. A human wouldn’t have heard us.
I had never gotten as much as a whiff of anything different from Brett. It wasn’t until this moment that I understood why. “The loas don’t smell different to me,” I said.
Dad nodded. “They feel different, but they don’t smell different.”
It didn’t matter how Brett smelled or how much loa he had in him. This ended today.
I sent my father a reassuring smile, then stepped out from under the eaves of the guesthouse. If Brett were a loa he would have picked up on our presence the second he was in the courtyard.
“I don’t think they’re expecting visitors tonight,” I offered, this time in a louder voice. Not so loud that those inside could hear. There was no way Brett could miss it, however.
Brett almost came out of his skin at my voice, and he whirled, axe at the ready. He stared at me, then frowned when he recognized me. “You keep showing up. Why do you keep showing up?”
“That’s what I do.” I shrugged. “We found your father, for the record. His body has been claimed by the police.”
Rage crawled across Brett’s face. “What gives you the right?”
I ignored the question. Honestly, I didn’t require many answers, but I did need a few. I opted to focus on those. “You didn’t kill your father, did you? Breaking his blood oath to your mother killed him.”
Genuine surprise registered on Brett’s face before he shuttered it. “Who told you that?”
“No one. We kind of figured it out.”
“Who is we?”
The question was barely out of his mouth when the loas appeared out of the steadily growing mist. They came from different directions, all of them with freshly painted faces and in their standard outfits. They looked like skeletons coming to claim their tribute.
“That would be us,” Brigitte replied, her tone icy.
Brett jolted when he saw her and immediately backed up. That’s when he remembered Dad and I were standing behind him, soon to be joined by Erzulie. Brett took a step to the east and almost ran into Papa. A wild look entered his eyes as he recognized them.
“You can’t interfere,” he cried out, sounding like a whiny baby rather than a cold-blooded killer. “I know you can’t interfere with another loa.”
“You are not technically a loa,” Baron replied. “You’re correct. We cannot interfere in the way you suggest. We can, however, bear witness.”
“Bear witness to what?” Brett demanded. “This is my show. This is my game.”
“Game?” I snapped, my temper shredding. “It’s a game to kill people?”
“They died for the greater good,” Brett replied. “I’m going to be a star. I’m going to be famous.”
“And you think it’s okay to kill others so you can be famous?” I demanded.
“I know what I want and how to get it. I just have to kill them inside, and then one more couple. I’ll be quick, I promise. I won’t torture them. In fact, I’m not really killing them if you think about it. I’m freeing them.”
I was officially sick to my stomach. “You’re a monster.”
“Look who’s talking,” Brett sneered. “You’re a half-breed. There’s nothing worse than a half-breed.” He looked to Papa for confirmation. “Tell her.”
“Our people are all what you refer to as half-breeds,” the king of the crossroads replied. He almost sounded bored. “Kill him,” he instructed my father. “He’s pathetic. There’s nothing he can offer.”
“Wait,” I said when Dad took a step toward Brett. He almost looked delighted at the prospect of sinking his teeth into an actual human. Normally, he drank from blood banks.
Dad sent me a curious look.
“I have a question first,” I said.
Dad nodded and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.
“Why the Axeman?” I asked Brett. “Do you know who he is? Was he a member of your family?”
Brett snorted. “It’s just a cool story. I’ve always loved that story.”
Because he was a sociopath. He didn’t even care that his father was dead. His mother put everything she had at the end into protecting him and he didn’t care. He wanted to be famous.
I closed my eyes and when I opened them again I was ready. My questions no longer mattered. He couldn’t answer them. I reached out with my magic and froze him in place. It was one of the first spells my mother had taught me.
The first time Brett showed real fear was when he realized he couldn’t move. By the time my father swooped in on him, fangs showing, he was overcome with terror.
He couldn’t scream, but I felt his despair thanks to the spell. My father was quick as he drained the life from Brett.
It was a garish scene as the rain started again. No one inside the house knew what was taking place outside.
It was over. That’s what I thought when Lex and Knox appeared at the wall and boosted themselves to get a look. I caught Knox’s gaze, and he sent me a reassuring smile.
Or perhaps it was just beginning.