Kelly Meding - Wrong Side of Dead

Thackery jerked as if slapped. He looked past Wyatt, right at me, and in his haunted eyes I saw something surprising—regret. Exactly what he regretted I don’t know, and in that moment I didn’t care. There was no forgiveness in my heart for Walter Thackery. Just pity.

So much intelligence and so much potential, lost to madness and vengeance.

His gaze wandered around the room, taking in the faces of those condemning him, until his attention returned to Wyatt. “Their names are John, Mark, and Peter. They look like their brothers did. I don’t know where they’re hiding until seven o’clock. I told them not to tell me.”

“Where were you supposed to meet them?” Wyatt asked.

“Grove Park.”

The place I’d gone to meet Thackery, only to be whisked away on the back of a Lupa. It was in Mercy’s Lot, about eight blocks east of Brutus’s tea shop. At a sudden rustle of movement, I glanced behind me. Astrid had moved away from the group, cell phone at her ear, presumably getting a squad over to Grove Park, ASAP. As soon as the Lupa realized the Coni prisoners had been compromised, they were unlikely to go to the park, but we had to follow every lead.

“Please don’t kill them,” Thackery added.

“I can’t promise that. But I’ll do my best.”

Astrid grunted.

“If you were intelligent enough to save my laptop from the ferry,” Thackery said, “the keyword is ‘height.’ Do what you can with the research.”

“Thank you,” Wyatt said.

“I did have the best intentions, you know.”

What was that saying? The road to hell …

Wyatt returned to my side, and I slipped my hand into his. He squeezed tight. I held on.

Elder Dane stepped forward, hands clasped loosely in front of him, back straight. “Walter Thackery, you have been condemned to death for the crimes of kidnapping, conspiracy, and murder. There is no plea, and there is no clemency. There is only justice. Are you prepared to meet your god?”

“No just god will welcome me into his heaven,” Thackery said.

“Very well.”

Dane stepped back into the circle of witnesses. Phin took his place. He’d stripped off his shirt and revealed his majestic wings. The Coni blade glinted in his right hand, an ancient symbol of an old order in which an entire race of people had been mercilessly hunted at the whim of another.

Phin paused. He turned far enough to look at me, an unasked question in his eyes. A few months ago, I’d have relished the idea of executing someone like Thackery—a man who’d caused me untold heartache and who’d hurt people I loved. Thackery deserved punishment, and I would not grieve his death. But I didn’t want to be his executioner.

I wasn’t that person anymore. I shook my head.

With a slight, acknowledging nod, Phin turned to face Thackery. Thackery looked up and didn’t blink. For a brief moment in time, only those two men existed. United by very different kinds of grief and hatred, two players in this final act of justice.

And then Thackery closed his eyes. Phin struck fast and true, driving the double blade deep into Thackery’s heart. He twisted once, hard to the left, and Thackery’s head fell forward. He was dead.

It was over.

Kind of.

Sunday, July 27

12:15 A.M.

Something warm and damp gusting across my face woke me from a deep, dreamless nap, and I blinked my eyes open. Twin blue orbs gazed back at me, so close I went a little cross-eyed trying to look at them. The owner crawled away with a sharp giggle and climbed onto the opposite bunk, where her mother sat, dressed in clothes that fit, watching us sleep.

At my back on the narrow cot, Wyatt didn’t stir. We’d returned to my quarters to rest after hours of waiting (the Lupa didn’t show up at either Grove Park or Old World Teas) and then grilling, courtesy of several members of the Assembly. Together and then privately, I’d paced the floor in front of Operations while Wyatt was questioned, not settling until he exited—with more confidence than I’d seen in him for weeks.

The Assembly had agreed to let Wyatt try to capture the three remaining Lupa as long as we found no evidence that they’d infected anyone else. He’d bargained for their lives and won. It was a small victory, but it had helped calm the wolf still raging inside of him.

“I’m sorry she woke you,” Aurora said.

“I’m not,” I said, sitting up and bracing on my elbow. “How is she?”

“Time will tell how the early shift has affected her. But she seems joyful again.”

“I wish it hadn’t happened.”

“I wish many things had not happened. But you saved her, Evangeline, and I don’t have the words to thank you.”

“You don’t have to.” I looked around and realized that my little room didn’t have a clock. “What time is it?”

“A bit after midnight.”

Damn, it had been a fucking eventful twenty-four hours.

“Phineas is taking us back to his condo for now,” she said. “Until the Lupa are found, our country home isn’t safe. I thought you’d like to see Ava before we left.”

“Thank you.” Ava didn’t really know me yet, but seeing her again now, awake, aware and smiling, lifted a heavy weight from my chest. “As long as I’m able, I’ll always protect her.”

“Thank you,” Aurora said, beaming a grin at me that made me smile in kind.

I eased off the bunk and hugged her. She collected Ava, who tolerated a forehead kiss from me, then headed out into the maze of corridors that made up the sleeping quarters. I was often surprised that I could find my way back to this room each time.

The eerie sense of being watched tickled the back of my neck, and I turned around. Wyatt blinked at me from the bed, looking relaxed for the first time since he’d woken up in the infirmary.

“Hey, sorry,” I said.

“I’ve been awake for a while,” he said. “I just didn’t want to scare them.”

“They’ll get used to your new look. We’re a package deal, you and me.”

His mouth quirked. “You aren’t pissed at me for wanting to save the Lupa instead of killing them?”

“No.” Might as well be honest. “I don’t know if I agree with your decision, but I do understand it, and I’ll help you.”

“Thank you.”

“Phin, on the other hand, is pretty pissed about the Assembly’s allowances.”

“The allowance on my life, or on the three Lupa children?”

“The Lupa, dumbass.”

He smiled. “Jackass?”

“That, too.” I stretched my arms over my head, a little stiff from our impromptu nap. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.” His smile got so broad that I couldn’t help asking, “What?”

“Just glad to see your appetite back.”

“Me, too. Buy you lunch?”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“Good, the cafeteria won’t be crowded.”

He joined me in the doorway, hair sleep-tousled and chin badly in need of a shave. Except for the telltale ring of silver around his eyes, he looked like my old Wyatt. The man I’d fallen in love with, pushed away, and yanked back harder than ever. And this time, I wasn’t letting him go.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned close, feeling the heat of his skin and the thrum of his heartbeat. He clasped my hips in a gentle grip and sought out my mouth. Our lips brushed—a quiet kiss that lingered awhile, until I wanted more. I licked inside his mouth, needing everything he had to give, and he returned in kind. Possessive, wanting, taking—I wanted more, but we needed a much bigger bed and more privacy than these sheetrock walls and doorless cubicles provided. My lips tingled—that same faint sensation that Dr. Vansis hadn’t been able to account for.