J Duncan - Deadworld

The door swung open, and for a horrifying moment Jackie thought Nick was going to rush up to her, her T-shirt hiked up to her breasts, sprawled on the floor. The far slighter and curvier silhouette revealed Shelby.

“Jackie! What happened? You okay?” In one smooth motion, she reached down and scooped Jackie up, depositing her on the bed as if she weighed little more than a rag doll. Her hands were hot against Jackie’s skin, and her blue eyes literally were glowing in the dark. “Christ, look at that knee.”

Jackie could only shrug. “You have an ACE bandage out here anywhere? I really need to get back downtown.”

She smiled and patted Jackie on the cheek. “Sweetie, you shouldn’t be going anywhere, though I’m admittedly curious about how Nick got you to agree to come out here.”

She felt heat flush to her cheeks. “I was ordered out here! I had no desire to be out here in his bed.”

Shelby laughed. “His bed is down the hall, Jackie. Don’t worry. You won’t be offending me with anything you might do out here. Now lay back for a sec. Let me see what I can do.”

Jackie slumped back in the bed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant… I didn’t need to come out here for a fucking nap.”

“You need to sleep the rest of the night, Jackie,” Shelby said, her fingers brushing with light strokes over and around the injured knee. “Things are getting done. The entire FBI is out combing the city for this guy, and so are half the police. Not that they will find him, but I, on the other hand, am better situated to sniff out the crotchety old fuck.”

Something warm and syrupy began to crawl through her knee. The relief was instant. Jackie stared. “What did you just do to me?”

Shelby grinned. “Don’t worry. It’s just a little vampire voodoo. Against my better judgment, but it should have you up and moving in pretty short order.”

“You drank more blood, didn’t you?”

“You can tell, huh?” She chuckled and winked at Jackie. “I wish Nick would hurry the hell up. I want to get back out on the street.”

“You didn’t kill anyone, did you?”

The grin faded for a moment. “I don’t kill for blood, Jackie. Ever.”

“Good. I don’t have to arrest you then.”

The front door thumped shut before Shelby could answer her. “About fucking time.” She stood up and pointed a finger at Jackie, her eyes electric and pulsing. “Get more rest, hon. You’ll be more help tomorrow at full strength instead of half-assing your way around tonight.”

Jackie struggled to sit up but found herself wanting more and more to just curl up and go back to sleep in the soft, downy warmth of the bed. “Damnit, Shelby. Don’t do that.”

Her mouth curled up on one side, a sly, sardonic grin. “It makes me powerful, Jackie. It’s like someone turned the volume up on everything, inside and out, and it’s a good thing I’m leaving, because you smell good enough to eat, and I’m really hungry.” She giggled and skipped out the door as Nick came in, stepping sideways to avoid running into her. “How’s Cyn doing?” Shelby asked as she passed him.

Nick looked at Jackie for a moment before glancing back down the hall at Shelby. “Sleeping. She’s drugged up pretty good at the moment. I did manage to get out of her that she was trying to contact Reg but found someone else, apparently, who didn’t want her snooping around. Laurel tried to rescue her. I think something’s happened to Reg on the other side.”

“Damn. I hope not,” Shelby said. “Reg is a good guy. I’ll call you later, babe. I’m hitting the streets.”

The front door slammed shut before Nick could reply. Jackie threw the cover back over her legs before he could look at her. She had the feeling he would see whatever it was Shelby had done to her leg. The warm puddle had begun to expand, crawling like warm goo beneath her skin.

“I tried to wake you at six,” he said but did not sound terribly apologetic. “You didn’t even move, so I figured you would be good until I got back from seeing Cyn. Shelby kept an eye on things.”

“Yeah, I see that,” Jackie replied. How had Nick ever dealt with a woman like that? Of course, he would have been drinking blood back then, too. “It’s important I get back downtown though. I’m the lead on this case.”

Nick’s mouth creased into a frown. “Can I make a blunt observation without you deciding to bury your fist in my face?”

“I wouldn’t… What? Fine, I won’t.”

“I think you are quite aware of the fact that you are not capable to lead this case right now.” His mouth worked in silence for a moment, pondering the next words. Jackie decided to keep the “so what” reply to herself until he finished. “Your partner and best friend is dead, and every second you are away from this case is a betrayal to her memory. I know how this works, Jackie. I’ve been there myself. If you want to help her out the most, stay here and rest and get some strength back.”

Jackie stewed on the words. What could she say to that? The bastard was right. Still, it infuriated her that he could assume how she felt about things. “So I’d guess a hundred forty-four years is a long time to be betraying your wife?” She knew the instant she said it that it was uncalled for-spiteful even. The hard, fathomless look from Nick just made it worse. “Sorry. I’m being a bitch. Really. I didn’t mean that.”

His look softened. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve had about as shitty a couple days as one can have. You deserve to feel bitchy, and I could have easily kept my trap shut. It’s not my place to suggest you do anything.”

“Thanks, but I should still get back. I can give Gamble a call and have him put my apartment on hourly watch.”

Nick ignored her. “It’s a bit late, but I’m going to make dinner, and you probably haven’t eaten anything since McD’s this morning. I’ll make some coffee, and the shower is the next door down the hall on the left.”

Jackie crossed her arms over her chest. She could just as easily grab a burger on the way in. “You aren’t taking me back in, are you?”

“It’s safer if you stay, Jackie. Drake won’t come here.”

“You honestly think he’ll come after me?”

“If you interfere with his plans, he’ll kill you.”

“And you don’t want that on your guilty little conscience, do you?”

He gave her a half smile. “Not really, no. So go shower. I’ll have food and caffeine by the time you get out.” He turned and walked out.

“Stubborn asshole!” she called after him, but he said nothing.

She could just call a cab and tell him to go fuck himself, but real food and coffee sounded wonderful, as did the shower, and Jackie felt a little nervous about going anywhere until the weird, vampire-voodoo thing was done doing whatever it was doing.

The shower turned out to be the size of a walk-in closet with its own steamer built in. Ten minutes of that, and Jackie had nearly turned into a puddle on the slate tile floor. The throbbing headache had reduced itself to a background pulse, her breath caught on only the deepest inhalation, and when she stood up from the stool, she could actually put pressure on the knee. Everything from the waist down felt thick and tingly. Jackie found it oddly pleasant but wondered how it would be if that syrupy warmth kept on going until it filled her head. All she could do was trust Shelby knew what she was doing.

“Because I smell good enough to eat,” Jackie mumbled into the towel outside the shower as she dried herself. She laughed at the absurdity of it. Could the world be any more fucked up?

Clean, warm, and dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, Jackie felt nearly human again as her sock-covered feet padded silently into the kitchen. An Italian opera played quietly through hidden speakers, and Nick Anderson stood there in an apron and an oven mitt, shoveling some kind of garlic, cheesy-covered pasta into bowls on the counter. Quart-sized coffee cups sat next to them, steaming away with the black oil of the gods.