Authors: Tamara Rose Blodgett
Tags: #Young Adult, #Fantasy, #tamara rose blodgett, #dystopia, #paranormal romance, #death screams, #Dark Fantasy, #death whispers, #Zombie, #Science Fiction, #death series, #death speaks
"No. I... I ... " she couldn't go on.
This was something else. And I didn't need Empath skills to pick up on it.
"What?" I asked, pulling her chin toward me until her eyes met mine, using the pad of my thumb to wipe the tears.
"It's my dad," she said in a near whisper.
"What about him?" I asked. What the hell did he have to do with any of it?
She tried to look away and I said, "Don't. Look at me, Jade."
She did.
Her lip trembled.
What the hell was going on?
She felt my question in her mind and answered it before I could ask.
"He... came and threatened us. Me and Andrea."
I felt my balls clench, the rage instantaneous.
"Why?" I asked, seething, my anger like a taste on my tongue.
"He got served the order and it sent him into some kind of rage."
"What did he do, Jade? You gotta tell me," my voice controlled, emotions in a riot.
We looked at each other.
Finally she admitted. "He beat on Andrea."
Oh brother. I hauled her up into a sitting position. "Why didn't you tell me?" I shook her. "Why didn't you tell the police? Garcia or Gale... anybody?" My eyes searched hers.
"He said he'd kill me if I told," she admitted in a voice filled with fear.
God this guy.
He was gonna have to go. I could feel my pulse hammering at my temple in a dull throb. My anger in a cage I could barely contain. So help me if I was there with LeClerc and zombies showed up. I wouldn't be able to stop the dead. My intent wasn't strong enough.
Hell, I
wanted
this guy dead.
Dead and gone.
I looked down and Jade had paled.
I noticed my hands were still wrapping her arms. Her bare arms. Too late.
My bad.
She'd just gotten the streamlined version of her dad's end. My true fantasy.
My fervent wish.
She shook her head. "That's not the way Caleb."
"Listen to me, Jade," I said quietly, "he's not gonna stop. Sometime, like what just happened, he's gonna be there and I'm not. Pulse the cops. Put them on notice. Let them know that he transgressed the order," I said, tearing a frustrated hand through my hair.
She nodded. "I will."
"Let me be with you. You don't have to do it alone, ya know."
She nodded. "I know."
We sat quietly for a moment, the hot mood shattered like molten glass.
"What does this have to do with us... being together?"
She looked up at me from the crook of my arm. "He called me names, said I was... " she didn't want to repeat it, I could tell.
"What?" I asked.
"It's ugly," embarrassed.
I waited.
"He said that you'd just 'tap me' and throw me away. That it's what men do. That it's all women are good for. That he knew you had... already.
Not true.
"That I acted like a slut. Looked like a slut." She hung her head in shame.
My head felt thick and I had a surge of thudding vertigo. I'd never wanted to kill someone so bad in my life. Not when Smith had her by the hair, not when Brett had hauled her off.
But for crushing her spirit and making her feel less when she was so much more.
Yeah, I wanted him to die.
I wanted his suffering first.
It filled my mind like a cup full of water, spilling over the edge and running onto the floor.
I thought of my words, moving my hand to her clothing, off that skin.
The skin that knew so much.
"I'm not gonna lie, Jade. I want you so bad you make my body ache. It's the truth." I looked down at her face, the soft triangle overwhelmed by the size of her eyes and went on, swallowing, "But I don't want you just for that. I love you, I want to be with you. Only you." I cupped her face, my thumb running over her jaw, wearing a hole there.
I deliberately moved my hand in a slow caress to her neck, wrapping my fingers around the smallness of it and she gasped, the tears flowing freely now.
"You love me," she said, her eyes filling with the sure knowledge of it.
"I do," I said, never looking away.
"You don't think I'm a whore," she said in a soft voice.
I shook my head slowly. "I could never think that," I said. The truth of my words echoing through whatever thread let her feel what people were really about.
She got up on her knees and leaned into me, her hands grabbing my shoulders for balance. "I'm ready," Jade said. Her eyes held mine.
I smiled. Just the words I'd been hopin' to hear.
Instead, I did the right thing. "I've got all kinds of time."
She smiled. "Like how much time?"
"For you? Forever," I cupped the smallness of her face, her skin a silken brush under the warmth of my palm.
She pressed her lips to mine and we sucked up some more stolen joy. My arms around her. Protecting her from everything.
Including myself.
We left the police station, Garcia and Gale fully aware of LeClerc. It wouldn't stop his dumb ass, but it would put Jade in a more powerful position if he thought going back over there was a good idea.
Garcia had followed Jade and I out into the gray day, rain threatening. Around here, it was the Pacific Northwest fall/winter; six months of gloom, gray and rain. Jade wore her pink puffy and it was a siren of color against the fade of the day.
"You kids need a ride?" Garcia said, looking at Jade.
She shook her head. "Better for me not to go home right now if you're gonna talk to Andrea."
Garcia turned around and walked toward her. "You did the right thing, Jade." His eyes searched hers and I took her hand. "He doesn't get to go to your home and terrorize women. It's Not. Allowed. That's why there's laws against domestic violence."
Jade's eyes filled with tears that didn't fall. "I know, but she's scared too. And she'll be angry with me. Because I told. I told," Jade whispered again, her eyes pleading for understanding.
Gale heard that last and said, "Someone has to break this cycle, Jade. This is the very reason Andrea has custody. He's not safe for you to live with."
Jade nodded, she knew.
I broke the somber mood with, "Hate to let you down, with how much I love to ride in the back of your cool cop car... "
Garcia glowered, his strong arms sticking out from stable hips that had seen some gym time.
"But," I rushed on, "I have wheels now."
Jade smiled, her sad mood dissipating.
"Oh?" He laughed. "Okay, Mr. Hart, show me your car."
Gale rolled her eyes. "Do we have time for your car worshiping, Raul? Really?"
Jade threw a sympathetic glance her way but it didn't matter, us guys were on the clear path to Male Communion and the females would have to deal.
Garcia moved around my car appreciatively. Finally, he asked, "How could you afford this, Caleb?"
"Bry and I worked all summer. I was a landscaping slave and gave the money to Gramps." I shrugged.
"Oh... so this was Mr. O'Brien's?"
I nodded. "Yeah, he never got rid of it from when he was a teenager."
Garcia gave a low whistle. "That's a find and a half!"
"Yeah."
"How much did he pay for it when he bought it?"
"Two grand."
Garcia barked out a laugh, Gale and Jade giving him a peculiar look. "Those were the days. You know, my Dad had something like this."
"Oh yeah?" I put the flat of my hand on the hood and Jade gave me a withering look like I was settling in for a long talk about cars.
Huh, go figure.
Females just didn't understand the importance of owning your transport.
He nodded emphatically. "Yeah it was a 1969 Mach I."
"A Ford... come on, Garcia!" I all but yelled.
Chevy or nothing, that's what Gramps and I thought.
He shook his head at me. "It was The Car to have back then, trust me."
I opened my mouth to defend Chevy when Gale interrupted, "Okay car aficionados.... "
Garcia corrected her pronunciation in perfect Spanish.
"Whatever, we have work." She gave him the pre-rant look. Ah-huh.
He had it. "Right." He turned to me and rapped his knuckle lightly on the hood, close to where my palm lay, "Nice ride."
"Thanks," I said.
He walked off to do a little drive by at Jade's house.
We hopped in my car to go do something equally important.
I was going to visit Clyde. I needed to come up with a plan for him. He was a sentient being, not some undead pet. Gramps had me thinking about everything way too much.
Or maybe I was just starting to think about everything.
Maybe this adulthood thing wasn't so great.
I pulsed the engine and it came on with a low roar, purring when coaxed by my foot on the pedal.
After market stuff my ass. I was bettin' Gramps had juiced this thing to the moon.
A few fat drops of rain splattered the windshield and I pulsed the wipers on. They flung themselves back and forth, swiping the rain away.
Jade smiled and we drove off together. To the graveyard.
Home sweet home.
*
Clyde stood on his grave, legs spread, hands hidden under the same jacket he always wore (no change of clothes necessary), his burning gaze pinned on my car as I drove up to the furthest point that I could.
He was already out.
I hadn't called, but he'd risen.
Gramps was more right than he knew. Clyde was so much more.
Jade and I walked in the graveyard, weaving between the graves carefully, finally coming to stand before him.
He gave an incline of his head, briefly glancing at Jade. "Miss," he said carefully, her role as my girlfriend understood. His formality was just who he was.
His eyes shifted to me and I was surprised to the soles of my shoes.
He looked painfully alive.
Living. Breathing. Vital.
I came to him and said, "I am feeling you, Clyde. I'm feeling you as dead," the hum of him resonating like the rest which lay at my feet. All around me. "But you look like you're alive."
Clyde nodded. "I have a confession, Master."
I held up my hand and he hesitated. "Why don't you call me Caleb now."
"Caleb," he intoned, tasting it on his tongue, rolling it around to see if it sounded right.
Must've 'cuz he continued, "The policewoman comes to this place." He pointed to the grave beneath him. She comes... and visits here. Takes respite in my presence."
Oh shit.
Out loud I said, "What do you mean... she visits you? What, she comes by for a chat?"
"Caleb," Jade said in a low voice, her hand on my arm. I cranked it down a notch.
Clyde became silent, looking at me with gravity.
"Sorry," I said. I hadn't really meant to jump down my favorite corpse's throat.
"Apology accepted." He paused to deliberate on his words. "She is not a master necromancer. But she has... a certain enigmatic energy that I can feel right here." He made a gesture that made it look like her "signature" hovered above his grave.
"Can you hear her?" I asked.
He nodded. "I cannot respond, I cannot evacuate my place of rest," he gestured to the disturbed earth. "But I can feel her energy." He curled his hand into a fist and laid it where a beating heart should have been.
Cripes.
Jade spoke up, "I think the better question is why Gale is coming here in the first place. Big time creepy, Caleb."
Clyde gave her a look.
I looked back. He was sharper than I would have liked and was understanding the nuances of innuendo. Was that even allowed? Right? Possible?
Apparently it was.
I paced a little back and forth, the sprinkling rain beginning to soak through my T-shirt. God forbid I'd wear a coat. I didn't even own an umbrella.
Hell, that was for tourists.
"Okay," I stopped my frenetic pacing. "I don't know how creepy it
really
is, Jade."