Rose of Jericho (Lilith Adams Series Book 2) (34 page)

Dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a fresh T-shirt from Gloria, Lilith padded barefoot into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around her unruly hair. She stopped short in the doorway as Gloria slammed a bottle of whiskey down on the table and poured herself a generous shot. Lilith just stared slack-jawed as she knocked it back and grimaced at the heat. Gloria taking shots was like seeing an albino elephant in the wild. Well, if there was ever a time to drink, this was it.

“Your father pulled you into something else, didn’t he?” Gloria’s jaw clenched as her fingers tightened painfully around the shot glass. Suddenly, Gloria twisted in her chair to look at Lilith with all the anger from the funeral suddenly roiling beneath the surface. “First, he sends you to Tennessee to take care of
his
problems, then he drags Philippe down there and now here you are…”

Lilith swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and slowly crossed the kitchen to sink back into her chair. How could she answer that? Ultimately, the current situation was her father’s fault, but what good would it do to condemn a dead man?

“Your father is out of line! I already lost Philippe, I can’t lose you too,
bonita
. The girls…” Gloria choked on thick tears, unable to continue. Lilith stared at the scuffed table top, completely lost for words. She couldn’t give Gloria a bunch of false reassurances. She had no chance of escaping the demons and no way to give them what they wanted. She was as good as dead already.

“Whatever he has dragged you into, walk away. Leave him to clean up his own messes. You don’t have to…”

She stopped in midsentence, probably because of the devastated look on Lilith’s face as she finally met Gloria’s eyes. “What did Philippe tell you about Tennessee?”

Gloria’s head tilted to the side in a brief moment of confusion. It obviously wasn’t the response she was expecting. Finally, she leaned back in her chair, her arms crossing defensively over her chest. This wasn’t a comfortable subject for her. Of course it wasn’t. She’d just buried her husband two days ago, the man she’d been with for over a century, the father of her children.

“Philippe called me from the Marriot before he went to bed. He just told me that Gregor sent you to take care of some family business and that things were more complicated than he thought. You were in danger and they were trying to bring everyone home safe…”

She hesitated then as if something occurred to her that she hadn’t thought of before, her eyes sinking to the floor as she fully processed the thought. “He knew…” Her warm eyes flew up to meet Lilith’s in a stunning revelation. “He knew things were going to get worse. I could hear it in his voice, but I didn’t really think about it. He knew Gregor had dragged him into something that he might not make it back from.”

He must have called her after Gregor’s heartfelt tell all. He knew the full story when he called his wife. He knew what they were dealing with. The thought brought tears to her eyes. Only a couple hours later he was chained up in a basement, riling up Ashcroft’s anger to give the rest of them a fighting chance before paying the ultimate price. Philippe died for her, for all of them.

Gloria’s eyes hardened again as that surge of anger returned. With a startling urgency, she shoved herself away from the table, leaping to her feet to pace the kitchen. Lilith didn’t need Cohen’s blood to feel the anxious anger emanating from her body like heat from a torch. “It was Gregor’s problem, it
is
Gregor’s problem.” Gloria’s eyes caught Lilith’s as she continued to pace, her finger jabbing at the air to emphasize her point. “He has to stop this. We aren’t cannon fodder for his personal war. You need to walk away before you end up like Philippe. I know he’s the only family you have left, but…”

“Gregor’s dead, Gloria.” The words just spilled out of her mouth and as soon as they did, Lilith knew it was real. No matter how many times she’d replayed it in her mind or talked about it with Chance, Cohen and Timothy, somehow, saying it here, to Gloria, made it inescapably real. “This…” Lilith gestured at her myriad of wounds. “…isn’t his fault. It’s mine.”

Gloria’s mouth opened, closed and then opened again as her anger leeched out of her face along with her color. She tried to say something, anything, but she just stumbled over a few mumbled words before finally slumping back into her chair like a lifeless sack of bones. Her eyes were glued to the table, ashamed, as she tried to figure out just how she felt about this particular bit of news.

On the one hand, she wasn’t wrong. Gregor had dragged Alvarez down to Tennessee and ultimately to his death. He didn’t just have skeletons in his closet, he had an entire race of demons in there as well. On the other hand, Gregor had done a lot for their kind.

After all, Gregor instituted the cooperative system with the police to provide their kind with a modicum of safety. He was also the one who began negotiations with other elders to provide a unified front and to help decide the future of their race. Not to mention that Gregor, Duncan and Aaron founded the labs that kept them all alive and off the radar. Did his past really erase all the good he’d accomplished? The answer was right there in Gloria’s teary eyes. 

“Gloria.” Lilith reached over, her hand tentatively grasping Gloria’s. She waited like that until Gloria finally met her eyes with a distraught look. Apparently, a large part of her still mourned Gregor’s death, even in light of his role in Philippe’s.

Lilith swallowed down her own tears and focused on what still needed to be done. “It’s okay. I…I need to call my voicemail…hopefully I’ll have some good news. Afterward, if you can help bandage me up, we can talk about all this. There is a lot to say…”

Gloria nodded, two tears splashing onto the battered table top. Without another word, Gloria rose from her chair and wandered into the living room, completely lost in her own thoughts. Gloria’s shoulders slumped as if the guilt and sorrow were physically wearing her down. For the first time that day, Lilith was immensely grateful that the side effects of Cohen’s blood had worn off. She was nearly suffocating under her own emotions without having to feel every bit of Gloria’s. All she could do was check her voicemail and pray to whatever gods were listening that there was a miracle lurking somewhere in the digital universe.

Chapter 27

L
ilith stared at the cream colored, corded phone hanging on the kitchen wall like it was lined with vicious teeth. She needed to check her voicemail, but she was scared of what might be there and what might not. What would be worse? A dozen frantic messages or none at all? And who in the hell still had a corded phone on their kitchen wall in this technologically advanced age? It was a bulky dinosaur lurking on the wall, ready to bite her hand off.

She fondly remembered asking Gloria about it the first time she’d come to the house. Her answer? She had three daughters one of which was venturing into the teen world and if this was the only phone they were allowed to use, then she could not-so-subtly monitor their calls. No text messages, no Facebook, no Instagram or Snapchat. The girls each had a simple firefly phone with four buttons. One called Gloria, one called Alvarez, one called 9-1-1, and one called the medical lab. Erica, the eldest, threw fits about her cellular limitations but arguing with Gloria was like having a spirited debate with the Great Wall of China.

Lilith shook off the memories as she glanced around the wall, into the living room. Gloria was standing in front of the fireplace, blankly staring at the collection of framed photographs covering the mantle. Her fingers drifted over the glass tentatively as if trying to touch the ghosts of the dead. Lilith clenched her jaw and forced herself to concentrate. She couldn’t keep distracting herself. She needed to make this call. The modicum of safety she felt here in the Alvarez home couldn’t last and if she stayed too long, she’d only endanger Gloria and the girls.

There were nightmares out there waiting for her, looming in the outside world, ready to devour every piece of her. She couldn’t let herself be lulled into a false sense of security while Chance, Nicci and Cohen were out there facing down demons, literally. This was her fight and she wouldn’t dump it on the people she cared about.

Lilith took a deep breath and unceremoniously snatched the old phone, punching in her voicemail number with angry, stabbing fingers. She had three new voicemails and two saved ones. Part of her was relieved and the rest dreaded what she’d hear. The most recent message was from a number she didn’t recognize. Of course, she wouldn’t even recognize Gregor’s number. Who actually memorized phone numbers anymore? That’s what contact lists were for. The message was time stamped about five minutes ago.

“
Hey, Lilith, I know you’re still on bereavement leave for a few more days, but we caught a case downtown on White Street
.” Lilith’s breath caught. White Street…that was where Haverty’s apartment was.

“
We’ve gotten multiple civilian reports of Fed activity in a high rise and a complete blood bath in an apartment on the 11
th
floor. There hasn’t been any Fed chatter except for a single call concerning a terrorist cell to the precinct, so I’m suspicious. Then there are several 9-1-1 calls we intercepted of a murdered cab driver a few blocks away. The eye witness accounts are…well…bizarre is the only way I can put it. We could use your help on this one. You know Peters isn’t very thorough.
” There was a pause that Lilith could only contribute to his conflicted conscience. “
If you’re interested, give me a call. If not, then I’ll see you when you get back.
” Another pause. “
We sure do miss you around here.
”

Apparently Peters was leaving a lot to be desired, not that she was surprised. The medical examiner in New Haven reminded her of Peters. A burnt-out, alcoholic, two-pack-a-day-smoker, who was just going through the motions. Actually, the ME in New Haven had at least done thorough autopsy. He hadn’t given up on his job completely. Peters just cared about clearing the cases off his desk, which was why he wasn’t the primary forensic investigator for Major Crimes.

Lilith hesitated, considering whether or not she should call the station back. Under other circumstances, she would have responded. Being the lead investigator would enable her to eliminate any incriminating evidence and steer the investigation in a helpful direction. However, with zombies, a voodoo queen and demons searching the city to tear her apart, playing interference on a case out in the open would definitely shorten her life span. No. She’d have to leave it in Peters’ incapable hands and just hope for the best.

Cohen’s European timbre filled the second message which was time stamped an hour ago. There was more than a slight edge of anger and panic in his voice.

“
What the fuck is going on, Lilith? Why the hell did you run off? I got separated from Nicci, tried to find you both, but
nada
. This whole thing is a complete shit storm…”
Lilith could hear the deep ragged breath tinged with sheer panic.
“I called Luminita, she confirmed that the German is in town. He flew in yesterday. He has to be the man behind the…well, you know.”
Apparently Cohen couldn’t even bring himself to verbally admit what he’d seen.
“Call me as soon as you get this!
” A lengthy pause filled the speaker and, for a moment, she thought he forgot to hang up. Then his voice returned in a rush of soft, almost humiliated tones. “
Please…don’t be dead
.”

Well, Cohen made it out of the zombie mob alive. Part of her was relieved and the other part wondered why. If Cohen never existed, she wouldn’t be in this mess to start with. Gregor would still be alive, she wouldn’t be running for her life from logic-defying zombies… but she knew, deep down, that Cohen wasn’t the cause. Ashcroft was the cause, and what her own father did to him. Without Cohen’s help, Ashcroft and Spencer would have killed them all. They would just be ash in the fire of Ashcroft’s ill-conceived vengeance.

As questionable as Cohen’s motives were, in the basement of Phipp’s Bend, it was his play acting that caught Ashcroft off guard. It gave the guys time to get into place and launch an assault that finally brought the murderous bastard down. It was Cohen’s blood that kept her alive, not just after the car accident and the beating from Spencer, but after that as well, and it was Cohen’s blood that indirectly saved Chance’s life. As much as she really, truly wanted to pin the blame all on Cohen, she just couldn’t.

Cohen’s tell-all in the alley had only made things worse. She didn’t like knowing more about Cohen, it made her feel…sympathetic? Guilty for wanting to hate him so much? He was an obligation, an albatross that was dragging her down. If only she could clip the rope that tied them without the Catholic-sized helping of guilt.

No. That’s how she wanted to feel about Cohen. If she was being completely honest with herself, she cared about Cohen’s survival. No matter what his reasons were, he’d saved her life several times. In Haverty’s apartment he could have escaped and left her and Nicci behind to die. Knowing more about Farren forced her to realize that Cohen and her weren’t much different. They were both fighters trying to survive their families.

“Shit.” Lilith sighed heavily at the ancient corded phone and hung up on the rest of her voicemails, instead dialing back Cohen’s burner cell. It only rang once before Cohen’s aristocratic voice, rigid with anger, filled the rattling receiver.

“Lilith, this better be you!”

“Hello to you, too.”

“Thank fucking god!”

Lilith couldn’t help but snicker. “Getting religious on me?”

Cohen completely ignored her smartass humor and barreled forward. “What the fuck was that? You have a damn death wish? Splitting up was the worst possible idea. Where the hell are you?”

“Brooklyn. I had no choice, Andrew. I…I needed blood, I couldn’t breathe. I would have only slowed you down. You two had a better chance without me. Besides, I’m alive, so guess it worked out. You said the German is in town?” She would much rather focus on information that could actually help them then focus on her embarrassing vampiric needs.

“Brooklyn? Where in Brooklyn? I need an address. I need to know exactly where you are, Lilith!”

“Cohen, calm down! I’m safe. Just tell me where you want to meet up. I’m assuming you have a plan?” Cohen pushing for an address just made those lingering doubts rear up in pure self-defense. Despite everything, she just couldn’t bring herself to trust him completely and she wasn’t about to bet Gloria’s life on Cohen’s track record.

Silence filled the line for a moment and every passing second made Lilith’s optimism disappear a tiny bit at a time. “I’m working on that. I’m trying to track down Helton. Luminita knows he flew into New York, but she doesn’t know where he is. She wants to meet up at the docks, but Helton’s the key, Lilith. If we get him, we get the book, we get the cipher from Chance, and we’ll get our freedom from the council. You can go back to your quiet little life and I can go back to mine.”

Her quiet little life. The thought almost made her laugh in pure soul-twisting misery. There wasn’t much left of her quiet little life anymore. What would it even look like now?

“Lilith.” Cohen’s quietly firm voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “I need to know where you are. If you’re somewhere safe, then stay there, but I need to know where to come get you when I have a location. I’m going to need you in this.” The reassuring tone of his voice was hypnotic and, whether she liked it or not, it made her trust him more. Damn psychology. Lilith glanced around the wall again to see Gloria braced against the mantle, wiping tears off her face. She couldn’t endanger her when there was still even a single doubt in her mind.

“I’m visiting a friend. I needed somewhere to get patched up. Those side effects are completely gone, unfortunately. I could use some of those healing powers right about now.”

“You’re hurt? What are your injuries?” It sounded less like a concerned inquiry into her physical health and more like demanding a report on how much of a liability she was going to be. Not exactly an endearing move that would foster the faith he was earning.

“Shallow bullet wound to the left shoulder, dislocated left shoulder, broken left humerus, probably a concussion or two. The deep gouges on my left forearm you already saw. That about sums it up. Typical Saturday.”

“Holy hell, Lilith. Did you get hit by a damn car?”

Lilith couldn’t hold back the chuckle. “In a manner of speaking.” Technically, the car was slammed on top of her, but close enough.

“Well, sit tight. I’ll call you back at this number when I have a location. It shouldn’t be long. Then maybe you’ll give me a damn address. I’ll help you out when I get there. I need all hands on deck and you won’t be much help if your arm’s in a damn sling. Besides, it’s not like it could make anything worse at this point. They can only kill me once.”

Technically, that wasn’t exactly true. Ashcroft had been killed many times before it actually stuck. Of course, Ashcroft was an abomination, but still, the possibility was out there. Cohen hung up long before she could actually argue with him.

Stillness began to settle over her, slowly unclenching her stiff muscles one by one. There was a plan, or at least part of a plan. They had a clear enemy, a light at the end of the tunnel, a way out. Hopefully. Of course, now the only thing she had to do was wait patiently. Definitely not her strong suit.

Lilith picked up the ancient, cream-colored dinosaur and re-dialed her voicemail. She might as well listen to the last message. It could be from Nicci or Chance.

She skipped past the call from the department and the one from Cohen. The last message was time stamped about four hours ago. Odd. She never heard her phone ring. Then it occurred to her that the call came in just about the time they reached Haverty’s apartment. Naturally, she’d put her phone on silent so it wouldn’t give them away.

A warm, Cajun-flecked voice rumbled soothingly from the speaker like a balm for her soul. Her throat actually clenched, tears welling in her eyes, as she clung to the ancient, corded phone. “
Cherie, I know you’re probably still dealing with the perp’s apartment, but I wanted to give you an update.
” There was a pause as he said a muffled goodbye to someone, then his rich voice filled the speaker again.

“
I’m just leaving the lab now. I’ve got the tin and the samples you wanted
.
I know, I know. I said I was going to sleep at a hotel. I did catch a couple hours
.” Another pause, a whoosh of doors opening and then closing. “
I couldn’t really sleep knowing you’re there in New York with Cohen. I mean…I trust Timothy, but…
” He released a heavy sigh, and she could almost see his shoulders hunched, running a frustrated hand through his chestnut hair. “
I don’t like how we left things and, well…Damn, I miss you.”
A soft silence filled the line that allowed Lilith a second to revel in the fact that despite everything, he still needed her.
“I’m heading
straight back. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine once I’m back in New York with you
.”

Lilith couldn’t stop the Cheshire cat smile that crossed her lips as her fingers tightened around the phone, hugging it to her ear. She wanted nothing more than to dismiss his fears, shake off that horrible nightmare and just jump on him as soon as she saw him. Then a cold, tendril of fear coiled around her stomach. What if she was still subconsciously terrified of him? What if that damn nightmare had scarred her for life?