J. Robb - Immortal in Death

"No." Appalled, it was she who reached out. "No. It doesn't. It couldn't. There's nothing but you and me when you touch me. It's just that I have to handle this."

"Alone?" It was, he realized, the most bitter of words. "The way you had to handle the nightmares alone? I can't go back and kill him for you, Eve. I'd give everything I have and more if I could do that one thing. But I can't. I won't let you deal with this without me. That's not an option for either of us. Sit down."

"Roarke."

"Please, sit down." He took one cleansing breath. She wouldn't listen to anger, he decided. Nor, from him, to reason. "Do you trust Dr. Mira?"

"Yes, I mean – "

"As far as you trust anyone," he finished. "That'll do." He walked over to her desk.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to call her."

"It's the middle of the night."

"I know what time it is." He engaged the 'link. "I'm willing to abide by her advice on this. I'm asking you to do the same."

She started to argue but found no solid ground. Weary, she dropped her head into her hands. "All right."

She stayed there, barely listening to Roarke's quiet voice, the murmured responses. When he came back to her, he reached out a hand. She stared at it.

"She's on her way. Will you come downstairs?"

"I'm not doing this to hurt you or make you angry."

"You've accomplished both, but that's not the main issue here." He took her hand and drew her to her feet. "I won't let you go, Eve. If you didn't love me or want me or need me, I would have to. But you do love me and want me. And though you still have difficulty with the concept, you need me."

I won't use you, she thought, but she said nothing as they went downstairs.

It didn't take Mira long. In her usual manner, she arrived promptly and perfectly groomed. She greeted Roarke serenely, took one look at Eve, and sat.

"I'd love a brandy, if you wouldn't mind. I believe the lieutenant should join me." As Roarke saw to the drinks, she looked around the room. "What a perfectly lovely home. It feels happy." She smiled, cocked her head. "Why, Eve, you've changed your hair. It's very flattering."

Baffled, Roarke stopped, stared. "What have you done to it?"

Eve lifted a shoulder. "Nothing, really, just…"

"Men." Mira took her brandy, swirled. "Why do we bother? When my husband fails to notice a change, he always says it's because he adores me for me, not for my hair. I usually let him get away with it. Now then." She sat back. "Can you tell me?"

"Yes." Eve repeated everything she'd told Roarke. But it was the cop's voice now, cool, composed, detached.

"It's been a difficult night for you." Mira skimmed her gaze over Roarke. "For both of you. It might be hard to believe that it will begin to be better now. Can you accept that your mind was ready to deal with this?"

"I suppose. The memories started coming more clearly, more often after that – " She closed her eyes. "A few months ago I answered a domestic disturbance call. I was too late. The father was on Zeus. He'd hacked the little girl to death before I got in. I terminated him."

"Yes, I remember. The child, she might have been you. Instead, you survived."

"My father didn't."

"And how does that make you feel?"

"Glad. And uneasy, knowing I have that much hate in me."

"He beat you. He raped you. He was your father and you should have been safe with him. You weren't. How do you believe you should feel about that?"

"It was years ago."

"It was yesterday," Mira corrected. "It was an hour ago."

"Yes." Eve looked down at her brandy and squeezed the tears back.

"Was it wrong to defend yourself?"

"No. Not to defend. But I killed him. Even when he was dead, I kept killing him. This – blinding hate, uncontrollable rage. I was like an animal."

"He had treated you like an animal. Made you an animal. Yes," she said at Eve's shudder. "More than stealing your childhood, your innocence, he stripped you of your humanity. There are technical terms for a personality capable of doing what he did to you, but in simple English," she said in her cool tones, "he was a monster."

Mira watched Eve's eyes dart to Roarke, linger, drop away.

"He took your freedom," she continued, "and your choices, marked you, branded you, defiled you. You weren't human to him, and if the situation hadn't changed, you might never have been more than an animal if you had survived at all. And yet, after you escaped, you made yourself. What are you now, Eve?"

"A cop."

Mira smiled. She'd expected exactly that answer. "And then?"

"A person."

"A responsible person?"

"Yeah."

"Capable of friendship, loyalty, compassion, humor. Love?"

Eve looked at Roarke. "Yes, but – "

"Was the child capable?"

"No, she – I was too afraid to feel. All right, I've changed." Eve pressed a hand to her temple, surprised and relieved to find the headache drumming there was easing. "I've made myself into something decent, but that doesn't override the fact that I killed. There has to be an investigation."

Mira arched a brow. "Naturally, you can instigate one if finding your father's identity is important to you. Is it?"

"No, I don't give a damn about that. It's procedure – "

"Excuse me." Mira held up a hand. "You want to instigate an investigation into the death of this man by your hand when you were eight years old?"

"It's procedure," Eve said stubbornly. "And requires my automatic suspension until the investigative team is satisfied. It's also best if my personal plans are put on hold until the matter is resolved."

Sensing Roarke's fury, Mira flicked him a warning glance and watched him win the bitter battle for control. "Resolved in what manner?" she asked reasonably. "I don't want to presume to tell you your job, Lieutenant, but we're talking about a matter that took place some twenty-two years ago."

"It was yesterday." Eve found some hollow pleasure in tossing Mira's words back at her. "It was an hour ago."

"Emotionally, yes," Mira agreed, unruffled. "But in practical terms, and legal ones, more than two decades. There will be no body or physical evidence to examine. There are, of course, the records of your condition when you were found, the abuse, the malnutrition and neglect, the trauma. Now, there is your memory. Do you feel your story will change during interview?"

"No, of course not, but… It's procedure."

"You're a very good cop, Eve," Mira said gently. "If this matter came across your desk, exactly as it is, what would be your professional and objective direction? Before you answer, be careful, and be honest. There's no point in punishing yourself, or that innocent, misused child. What would you do?"

"I'd…" Beaten, she set down the snifter and pressed her hands to her eyes. "I'd close it."

"Then close it."

"It's not up to me."

"I'll be happy to take this up with your commander, in private, give him the facts and my personal recommendation. I think you know what his decision would be. We need people like you to serve and protect, Eve. There's a man here who needs you to trust him."

"I do trust him." She braced herself to look over at Roarke. "I'm afraid of using him. It doesn't matter what other people think about the money, about the power. I don't want to ever give him reason to think I ever could or ever would use him."

"Does he think it?"

She closed a hand around the diamond hanging between her breasts. "He's too much in love with me to think it now."

"Well, I'd say that's lovely. And before much longer, you might figure out the difference between depending on someone you love and trust and exploiting their strengths." Mira rose. "I'd tell you to take a sedative and tomorrow off, but you'll do neither."

"No, I won't. I'm sorry to have dragged you away from home in the middle of the night."