5 #2
As soon as the deluge escaped, Ofelia slapped her hand over her mouth. She was disappointed in herself. “And none of that is important,” she said, shaking her head. “There are other things to worry about, and none of them have to do with that party. Well, other than tangentially.”
“You’re allowed to be angry,” Pascal said in his matter-of-fact manner. “This is supposed to be your time. It’s your wedding, isn’t it? That means it should have been your party. They stole it from you.”
“I’m just angry that I was stupid enough to believe them when they said they were going to be tailoring it to what Zach and I wanted,” she admitted. “I’m such an idiot. That was never going to happen. It was about what they liked, and they were lying to me.”
“I’m sorry.” Pascal’s expression was much graver than Ofelia expected. “Do you want me to kill them? It’s been a few centuries since I killed for fun, but I could make an exception for you.”
Ofelia burst out laughing. She hadn’t been expecting her response and felt instantly guilty. “It’s not about the party. Not any longer.” She told him about the banshee attack, which he hadn’t heard about. When she got to the part about Angelique, he was completely fixated on her.
Once she was finished with the story, Pascal started with the questions. “Has she shown signs of turning?”
“Not that I know of, but she was asleep when I checked on her this morning.” Ofelia held her hands out. “I didn’t want to wake her because I figured she needed her rest.”
“And if you did wake her and it was obvious she was changing, the pressure on you would have doubled,” Pascal surmised. “I get it.”
“There are stories,” Ofelia pressed. “I’ve heard about people who were turned into banshees being cured after the transition had already taken them over.”
“There are stories,” Pascal confirmed succinctly.
“Do you know anybody who has been cured?” Ofelia was almost afraid to ask — if the answer was no, she would be bereft — but she had no choice. They were working with a limited timetable here.
“Yes.”
She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until he said it, and the oxygen whooshed out in a great gust. “You do?” Tears pricked the back of her eyes.
“None of that,” Pascal chided, wagging his finger. “Don’t cry. I can’t stand it when you cry.”
Ofelia knew that, but she didn’t care. “Sully’s unit is looking for her.” A tear slid down her cheek. “I don’t know what possessed me to hide her injury when it happened. I just reacted. I don’t know why.”
“Because you knew that if they took your friend into custody and she showed signs of turning, they wouldn’t do anything to save her,” Pascal replied, not missing a beat. “They would kill her and be done with it.”
He hesitated, then continued. “You do realize, if she turns and we can’t find a way to cure her within the first few days, she will have to be put down, don’t you?”
Ofelia didn’t want to hear it. Pascal was pragmatic to the nth degree, however. He wouldn’t just let it go until she acknowledged it. “We’re not there yet,” she said finally.
“No, but we might get there.”
Ofelia blinked, then looked away. “Pascal, I don’t want to talk about that possibility right now.”
His eyes were a heavy blanket on the side of her face. Ultimately, he made a grunting sound and shifted. “Fine, we won’t talk about that right now. Just know that if it does become necessary, I will take care of it for you.”
That offer, which was meant to make her feel better, only made Ofelia feel worse. “I don’t want that to be her end. I … we have to save her.”
“We will do our best,” Pascal promised. “I’ll start asking around. I only know of one person who can help you at present, but I’ll find somebody else if I have to.”
“Who can help me?” Ofelia asked, sitting straighter. “Who do you know that has been cured?”
“Her name is Ellen Purcell,” Pascal replied. “She’s about 65 now, I believe. She was infected when she was in her mid-30s.”
Ofelia did the math. “So, she’s been well for 30 years.” She brightened. “She’s okay.”
“That depends on how you look at it.” The vampire shrugged. “I find her a bit melancholy. She tends to be a, what is it they call it? A Debbie Downer. Her glass is never half full.”
Ofelia pursed her lips. “Angelique’s glass is often half full,” she said finally. “Maybe she won’t be infected. She’s not an angry person.”
“She’s a siren,” Pascal replied. “They’re angry by nature. All throughout history, sailors referred to them as angry mermaids.”
“Only because they had it in their heads that mermaids were sexy and just hanging around to have sex with them when they were embarking on a long trip,” Ofelia argued.
“It doesn’t matter why they were deemed to be angry,” Pascal argued. “It turned into something of a self-fulfilled prophecy. Angelique is hardly the angriest siren I’ve ever met — not by a long shot — but she does have bouts of anger.”
“So does the Hulk.”
Pascal maintained his calm demeanor and just waited her out.
On a sigh, Ofelia closed her eyes. “I’m saving her no matter what,” she said finally. “I need you to help me do it. Please. I’m begging you.”
“I will help you,” Pascal promised. “I’m going to give you Ellen’s address and call her to tell her to expect you. I’ve heard her story multiple times, and it’s better that you hear it coming from her so you can ask as many questions as you need.”
“But you believe we’ll be able to save Angelique, right?” Ofelia pressed. “Tell me you believe it.”
Pascal’s hesitation didn’t make Ofelia feel better. Ultimately, he managed a smile, although it was wan. “I believe if anybody can save her, it’s you.”
It wasn’t what Ofelia wanted to hear — not nearly enough — but she nodded. “Give me the information. Then start chasing other sources. I am going to save her. I won’t stop until I do.”
“And that’s why I believe you will save her,” Pascal agreed. “You don’t fail your friends. You simply don’t have it in you.”
“I don’t,” Ofelia said. “I’m going to save her, and she’s going to be my maid of honor. I won’t settle for anything less.”
“Then let’s get started. I fear Angelique doesn’t have a lot of time.”
That was Ofelia’s greatest fear, too. “Give me the address. We’ll go from there.”