Death Takes Wing (24 page)

“Wish I could have brought my desktop,” she muttered to Lucy, missing the games and links that littered the desktop as opposed to the mostly barren laptop that sat upstairs on her bed.  Walking into the small office off the living room, she saw Aleks’s laptop sitting at the desk.  She sat down in front of it, bringing up the screen.  He was still logged in, she realized.  With a shrug, she figured that with her laptop’s battery dead and the charger still at her house, this was her only lifeline to the internet.

She casually surfed the web for a few minutes, checking her e-mail and a few favorite blogs.  While checking her facebook, she saw the AIM icon blinking.  She blinked back at it before realizing that it meant there was a message.  She clicked on it, opening the program.

DrJCouridoure: I got your latest file on the new subjects.  Just wanted to say thanks before I forget.

As Amalia stared at it, the messenger’s icon went from online to offline.  She stared, unblinking at the name.  What the hell was Donovan’s fiancée doing messaging Aleks?  What subjects?  She knew Aleks was a doctor.  Was Jessamyn researching something and using Aleks as a consultant?  Trying to get in his pants?  Shaking her head, she pushed away from the table.

If Jessamyn was definitely part of this, according to Gabriel, then maybe she and Aleks worked together…if Gabriel was right, though, and Aleks wasn’t part of this…  Then it was just odd that she’d message him.

She reached down and stroked the top of Lucy’s silky head.  “It’s time for a long-overdue visit to see Jess, don’t you think?  Maybe she’ll have an idea about this case.  After all, Gabriel didn’t say I couldn’t question people without him.”

Lucy huffed as the hand stroked her head over and over, pressing herself into the warm hand.

There was just one car available, and she wasn’t too sure that Gabriel wouldn’t mind her taking it.  But she did anyways, finding a spare set of keys hanging near the back door on a small back keychain, a Celtic cross engraved on the pendant.  The engine roared to life under her hand, and she relished the feel of the smooth engine.

The ride over was like pulling a map out of a dusty drawer with no markers and having to find one small building on it.  Luckily for her, she remembered what the building looked like, even if she didn’t remember the exact location.  It took her twenty minutes to find Jessamyn’s house in one of many subdivisions around Newfield.  She’d gone through four wrong subs before finding the right one, scaring three children, almost hitting a dog, and having a cat jump out of a mailbox almost on the hood of the
Aston.  Gabriel would probably kill her if she marred the pristine paint job.

Pulling in to the pebbled driveway, the colonial-style house was perfect, as it always had been.  White siding, a dark gray-metal gray roof and dark blue shutters looked exactly the same.  The same small, neatly trimmed bushes tucked under the windows, and the same patches of rock and driftwood surrounded the leafless bushes.  Dark green moss artfully climbed the rocks, the rest smooth and water-smooth.

Stopping the car in front of the house, she turned it off and climbed out.  Stretching, she started walking to the heavy wooden door.  The flagstone was weatherworn, edged by river rocks and hens and chicks, the only green other than the moss that clung to the rocks.

Now that was new, she thought to herself, looking at the intricate designs that decorated the dark maple door.  Knocking, she waited, enjoying the carvings.  She made out various words, not able to translate them, but knowing that they were Latin.  Something about remembrance, Amalia thought as she reached out to trace the carving.

“Hello?”  She heard woman’s voice from inside the house, through a small crack as the door creaked open an inch.  “Can I help you?”

Amalia jumped as the door pushed against her hand.  “Jessamyn?  It’s me, Amalia?  Don-Donovan’s
sister?” she finished with a faltering smile, hand dropped to her side.

The door opened.  “Amalia?”  The blonde angelus looked at her, a wide smile on the perfect cherry lips.  “Come in!”  Jessamyn gestured at Amalia to enter the bright house, hurrying her into the sunshine yellow entryway.

“I’ve been meaning to call, but…” trailing off, Amalia rubbed the back of her neck uncomfortably, a shy smile on her lips.

Jessamyn shook her head as she led Amalia into the small family room.  “No, I know.  I never wanted to lose touch with you, and I’m sorry that we did.  Life just got in the way, like it always does.”

She gestured toward a seat under the window that looked into the pristine backyard and sat in a large white leather chair across from her.  A yellow tabby cat jumped into her lap, coating Jessamyn’s pristine black trousers in yellow fur.  She absently stroked the long fur as she watched Amalia.

Amalia sat down, perching on the edge of the seat.  “So, what have you been up to?” she asked eagerly.  She tucked her feet under her and leaned against the arm of the seat, briefly glancing outside to see the unchanged backyard.

Jessamyn smiled as a white cat jumped up next to the yellow tabby.  “Research,” she said with a rueful smile, “always research.  The perils of being a research scientist, of course, is that all I do is look into
a microscope these days.  That, and feed these two, of course.”  She finished with a tinkling laugh that would make Tinker Bell jealous.

Amalia cocked her head in interest.  “What are you researching?”  She touched the thick, fat pillow that sat next to her, enjoying the satiny feel under her hand.  She felt the embroidered designs, more Latin she noticed absently, her fingers tracing them.

“It’s classified,” Jessamyn said with a patronizing smile, “Something for a friend.  You understand, of course.”

Amalia nodding as she stared back out the window.  A cardinal lit on the feeder hanging off the deck.  The bright feathers contrasted against the dark stained wood.  “Of course.  I don’t envy you, though!  I don’t think I could stand to stare at a microscope for that long!”

Jessamyn laughed and shook her head.  She set the two cats back on the floor before playing with a small silver bracelet that clung to her thin wrist.  “Oh, it’s not all that bad!  Just when I don’t get results.  Again, though, just another peril of being a research scientist!  I think the worst part is that I’m not getting any results.”  Her brow furrowed as she paused.  “Well, negative results, but those aren’t quite the ones that – my benefactor wants, of course.”

Her voice dropped down an octave as she imitated the councilor, “No results aren’t good
results, Ms. Couridoure.  I want results.  Good results.  Don’t bother me with anymore failures.”

She shifted her gaze from Amalia to the window behind her.  In a different room, a phone started ringing incessantly.  Her gaze went back to Amalia as she climbed to her feet.  She offered her an apologetic smile, “Sorry, I’ve got to get this.”

Amalia shook her head.  Those words, the one…they all sounded so familiar.  She just couldn’t quite place them…maybe when Jessamyn was out of the room she’d figure it out.  “No, I understand.”

A few minutes after Jessamyn left the room, Amalia’s curiosity grew.  She still couldn’t place that tone, but maybe it was just a solan trait?  Aleks had used it on her, and she was pretty sure Jessamyn had when she’d been dating Donovan.  She climbed to her feet and wandered around the room, looking at the tasteful pictures that hung on the walls.  Landscapes, mostly.  Pastoral scenes designed to calm a person.

She listened as Jessamyn spoke in low, angry tones.  They were still in the liquid language of the angelus, but they were streaked with a patronizing anger.  With a sigh, she realized that Jessamyn was going to be on the phone for quite some time, unless she got angry enough to hang up, and she didn’t quite see that happening.

Amalia walked into the kitchen, keeping herself constantly aware of where Jessamyn was.  What kind of research was she working on?  The
same kind Aleks was, obviously, but that still didn’t give her any ideas.  Something wasn’t quite right, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

A small white netbook sat on the dining room table, with papers strewn around it, completely covering the dark wood.  Amalia fingered some of the papers, casually glancing at them as boredom slowly took over her senses.  Keeping an ear open for Jessamyn’s voice, she leafed through the papers, her curiosity getting the better of her.

A name caught her eyes as she shifted the papers.  Samantha.  Her heart flipped and she made herself stop and listen closer for Jessamyn.  Still in the same room, same angry tone to the liquid syllables.  Glancing up and then back down at the paper, Amalia quickly pulled it out.  A test result for Sam.  Her eyes roved over the information.  Shaking her head, she didn’t understand most of what it was.  But she understood the scrawled note on the bottom just fine.

Sam was alive.  She’d made the ‘transformation’ successfully, but none of the reversals worked yet.

What the hell?  Jessamyn was part of this?  Gabriel was right, she thought slowly, her mind focusing on the one fact.  That Jessamyn had done something to Donovan.  Donovan – just thinking her brother’s name made a lump stick in her throat.  She stared balefully in the direction of Jessamyn, wanting
to do something horrible to her.  Hitting her over the head with a fireplace poker wasn’t too far from happening.  She shelved that feeling, a burning desire too find Sam first crawling through her.

She rifled through the rest of the papers before finding the location of the lab scrawled on another note.  A note written to “The Benefactor”.  She couldn’t make out the name, just the beginning – Ow -.  The rest of the name was completely illegible.  The note was supposed to be mailed, judging by the envelope that sat just under it.  Owen? she questioned, wondering if that was who was funding this little project.  It’d make sense, she thought as she stared at the two letters she could read.  That snide rat
would
have something to do with Sam’s disappearance. And Donovan’s death, she thought bitterly.  Now she wanted to use the fireplace poker on
him.

Amalia pulled out her phone and used a maps program to find the address.  Her brow drew in question.  That couldn’t be right, she thought to herself.  That really couldn’t be right…that was in the middle of a field.  She switched programs and replotted it.  Same results.  Maybe a false address?

She heard Jessamyn’s voice growing louder, starting to spit out the words in clipped, arrogant tones.

She brought up the internet on her phone and did a quick search of the address.  A picture came up. 
The same picture that hung on Matt’s stairway.  A heavy bunker door, sitting in the middle of an open field.  This time, though, there were cars parked around it.  She shuffled through the papers, looking for any more information that could help her.  A list of random words.  At first glance, it looked like random words, but in her experience, that just meant passwords.  Either that, or Jessamyn was making her own crossword, minus the grid and questions.  She took a picture of the words, committing them to not only her phone’s memory but her own.

She looked up as she heard footsteps draw near, but they turned around with a nearly silent glide, quickly striding in the other direction.  Good, she was pacing.  Amalia bent down over the papers again, photographing any that looked important.  Which, she thought, was most of them.  She didn’t dare take any.  She’d seen the results of that one too many times, and she couldn’t spare the time to explain why she needed the papers.

Shit.  She looked up as she heard Jessamyn’s voice growing louder before they abruptly cut off.  Amalia saw the tip of an ID badge stuck in the bottom of the papers.  She grabbed it and stuffed it in a coat pocket, shoving it all the way down to the bottom.

Amalia silently made her way back to the small couch she’d been sitting on, and tried to look casual.  She smiled as Jessamyn walked back into the room.  Amalia pulled her phone out and glanced at it,
pasting a frown on her face.  She shrugged as she stood.

“I’m sorry, but duty calls.  A co-worker just called in sick,” Amalia said with a smile and shrug.

“I’m glad you came,” Jessamyn said, offering her a smile in return.  “You’ll have to come by again, soon!”

I sure will, Amalia thought as she watched Jessamyn lean forward to give her a hug.  Amalia returned the hug and stepped back.  After another round of goodbyes, Amalia was back in the Aston, holding her phone.

Remembering what she’d seen, color blossomed on her cheeks as she felt her adrenaline flowing.  Breathe hitching, she fumbled her phone, dropping it once before successfully opening it.

With shaking hands, she dialed Gabriel’s number.  Nothing.  It went straight to voicemail.  Swallowing hard, she dialed Aleks’s number.  Same thing.  Damn him, she thought angrily.  Gabriel and him were together, and now she had no way to tell Gabriel that something was utterly wrong.  She tried Matt’s number.  This one rang for a few times before going to voicemail.

She left both Gabriel and Matt a message before texting both of them the same thing.  Where she was headed and how to find her.  And that Aleks and Jessamyn were behind for good warning.  If
Gabriel was with Aleks, at least he’d be forewarned.  If he checked his messages.

Looking at the clock, she felt her heart stop.  If she didn’t find Sam, pretty soon, it would be too late.  Sam wouldn’t just be an angelus.  She’d be a dead angelus.  And she wasn’t going to lose Sam now.  Not now.