“Black and Blonde” (Conclusion)

The cartridge took her in the chest. She staggered but held her ground, her face falling in disbelief. There was a wisp of smoke, the smell of gunpowder, then the flare ignited within her and she screamed.

Raymond bellowed and yanked the knife from Jett’s shoulder. Black swung and aimed as he made to lunge. “There’s one more in here, pal.”

The threat worked. Raymond stopped. Clare had begun to burn. Stalled in the act of dying, she stood fully conscious with her skin lit like a paper lantern. The wound in her chest steamed and spat blood. She turned wide eyes to Black and stretched a hand toward him. “Ariel …”

He swallowed hard. Raymond stepped toward her. Black’s voice stopped him. “Don’t, or you’ll go down with her.”

“You would be wise to wish me that foolish,” Raymond snarled.

Clare screamed again. The flare was eating her from the inside out, burning away at muscle and internal organs. She folded to her knees and began to scream in earnest; piercing, feral shriek after shriek as her body collapsed in upon itself. Smoke rolled from her gaping mouth, leaked from her nose and ears. The last thing Black saw before he grabbed Tess and bolted was the hideous, squelching pop of her eyes. Red flame shot from the sockets and she fell forward to the floor. Raymond let out a roar of anguished rage. Black pulled Tess to her feet and pushed her ahead of him through the door.

“Go!”

She ran for the stairs with Black on her heels. He hit the fire alarm as she reached the door. The bell went off and the sprinklers kicked in; the ensuing confusion made it impossible for Jett to follow them.

They pounded down twelve flights of stairs, swinging off the rail at every landing. Hotel guests in everything from evening clothes to bathrobes trickled into the stairwell on each floor; Tess ran headlong into an old woman with a cane and Black had to stop and right her before they could go on. The growing stream of guests frustrated their escape and there was little comfort in knowing the chase would be hampered as well. He tried not to think about Clare.

They filtered onto the pavement with the rest of the crowd at the front of the hotel. Black took hold of Tess’s hand to keep her from straying. Sirens wailed in the distance. A police cruiser pulled into the alley to see what was going on. There was no sign of Raymond or Jett. Tess jerked on Black’s hand. “Let’s go.”

People were coming from all directions to see what was happening at the Four Seasons. No one took note of the couple in their thirties as they strolled hand in hand to the end of the block and turned the corner.

* * *

Aurora set them up with a buddy of hers on the strip, well away from the waterfront where Raymond and his gang were sure to go looking. The room wasn’t any higher-end than the room Black had called home, but it would do until they could get out of town. And getting out of town was their only option. Black had committed the unpardonable sin of killing one of his own. Not only would the mortals be after him, now the vampires would be, too.

Tess wanted to go home. “You can’t,” he told her. “It’s not safe.”

“What about after sunrise?”

He shook his head. “Raymond has mortal cronies like I do, but his are more dangerous.”

Her eyes filled with tears—and allowable offense since she had been so brave at the hotel. “All my stuff is there.”

What she meant was all her memories of Travis were there, but that wasn’t something Black could help her with. “You’ll have to carry him in your heart, sugar. He’s gone, and unless you want to join him, you can’t go back.”

She wiped her eyes with her fingers before the tears fell. The amethyst on her left hand sparkled darkly in the dim light. “I guess I’ve screwed up both our lives.”

“Looks that way.”

“You think I should have let it alone, don’t you?”

He gave her a look that she couldn’t miss, even through his sunglasses. It earned a reluctant smile, and she ventured closer to the corner where he sat slumped on the floor.

She knelt before him. “I have to ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“What she said about Travis, about him wanting to be with her before he died. Did you believe her?”

“Nope.”

His answer surprised her. He saw hope leap in her eyes, then die back when it occurred that he was trying to spare her feelings.

“I believe that they had a relationship before he met you,” he said, sitting forward, “but I think that she came back for him and he didn’t want to play.”

“Why not?” she whispered.

“Because he loved you, Tess. I saw it in every stroke of every drawing. You were the girl for him, and not even Clare could make him break the commitment. I’m sorry that he died for it, but that’s what I think happened.”

“That’s no reason to kill someone. It’s so petty.”

“It’s easy to kill over petty things when you’ve lived for centuries.”

“Then I never want to live that long.”

He smiled. “That’s too bad, sister. You’ve got potential.”

Her eyes widened so much that an errant tear spilled. “How can you say such a thing?”

“Because you saved my ass at the hotel. You did everything right, just the way I told you to. You were great, Tess. I’d have you at my back any day.”

She blinked another tear from her lashes, but he could see that she was grateful for the praise. “You saved my butt, too,” she pointed out. “If you hadn’t had that knife in your boot—”

He waved her off. “It doesn’t matter. It’s done now. It’s over. But it won’t help with the matter of suicide. You still can’t prove anything to the police.”

“I know.” She sounded sheepish. She glanced away, then back to his face. Her own was earnest. “You understand, though, don’t you? I had to do it. I had to know the truth. I loved him so much, I just—” She bowed her head and finally broke, sobbing into her cupped hands. Black leaned over and pulled her between his legs, cradling her in all fours while she vented her grief and anger in tears. He laid his cheek against her fluffy blonde hair and closed his eyes to do a little grieving of his own.

When she had quieted, they sat together in silence. The sky brightened outside the window, turning a crystalline shade of mauve that matched the reflection of Tess’s pink shirt in her blue eyes. She sat curled against him with her head in the hollow of his shoulder. She felt good, solid. Real. She smelled good, too.

“You owe me a dossier,” he said.

Her head moved but didn’t tip up to let him see her face. “I have a confession to make,” she said slowly.

He almost groaned. “Don’t say it. I’m already depressed at how gullible I am.”

“I’m sorry.” She sounded sincere—but her life was wrecked as well.

“It’s okay,” he sighed. “I’ve spent my whole life at the mercy of wily women.”

She almost laughed; he felt it in her staggered breath. “But I owe you ten grand,” she reminded him. “I can deliver that.”

He thought for a minute, watching the mauve sky shift to azure. It was pleasant here despite the shabby room and the knowledge that he was now officially on the lam. He wasn’t as upset as he had imagined he would be over losing Clare. It was actually a relief to be free of her. He had done more than avenge Travis by shooting her. In a funny way, he had finally avenged the peasant boy she had tormented for as long as he could remember.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he told Tess. “This one’s on me.”

THE END

July 15, 2001