Page 177 of Death is Familiar

I rolled my eyes. “No one’s going to die.”

The couple wept, full on wracking waves, and we took the moment to catch our breath. In our moment of respite, I seized the opportunity to slip Hank’s wallet from his front pocket. The “success” comment Hank made bothered me. If he’d had success, he must have injected a familiar with epinephrine before, and there was only one person that came to mind, and their name wasn’t Hank. It was the name printed on Hank’s driver’s license: Henry Day.

“Your name is Henry?” I was taken aback. “I thought you were Hank?”

The man and woman kept on crying.

“Hank is a nickname for Henry,” Carmen offered.

That was news to me. “What?”

Carmen shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you why, but it’s a thing.”

At least the logic was making sense. If there were more people running around injecting epinephrine to prevent ‘vampire transformations’ it would be a real cause for concern.

“Uh, Delilah?” the alarm was noticeable in Jezebel’s voice. “Not to worry you, but are the people running towards us with guns friendly?”

Over my shoulder, Kaatz and Zhou were sprinting at full speed across the lawn towards us, guns at their side.

“Finally.” I sagged with relief, but didn’t give Hank any leeway. “Took you long enough.”

42

Blue and red lights flashed from the cop cars lining the street. Despite the hour, tourists lined up behind the police tape watching the action from a distance. I’d be surprised if we didn’t make tomorrow’s headlines, but I’d leave it to the FBI to worry about keeping up appearances.

My only unease revolved around the Seal. But even if they caught sight of me, we’d be long gone before they’d be able to do anything about it, and right now there was only one person I was concerned with.

Dry and wearing ill-fitting sweats, I’d made Todd sit in the passenger seat of his car, sporting the darkest pair of sunglasses I could manage. I wasn’t going to let anything else happen to him. And I certainly wasn’t going to risk the police lights setting off another seizure.

Not letting him out of my sight, we answered questions, provided statements, and checked all of the procedural boxes asked of us.

Every now and then, I’d catch a glimpse of Jack in the distance. He was not pleased. I didn’t expect him to be. I knew a stern talking-to lay in wait, but that would happen later, off-duty. Once everything was squared away, I’d be confronted with all of the risks I took, and how badly everything could have ended up.

I understood the threats. I’d made choices that were mine to choose, and I wasn’t done yet. There were still things I had to do. To make right.

Jack might not see it right away, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to like it. But he’d see reason. Eventually.

I hoped.

†

It took time, but slowly, enough evidence came to light to arrest all five of the apothecary staff on suspicion of manslaughter, murder, intent to cause bodily harm, assault of a federal agent, kidnapping, breaking and entering, and grand theft.

Flashing FBI badges seemed to provide enough assurance that the man and woman, Hank and Maeve, stopped crying, and loosened their lips.

How the vamps were villains, and they were the heroes.

How Maeve was an ex-familiar who’d nearly died of anaphylactic shock after getting bit by her vamp five years ago.

How she’d seen divine light, after Hank injected her with epinephrine, and swore to protect other familiars from a similar fate.

How she recruited other ex-familiars to support the work, each new employee required to prove their belief either by tracking potential familiar recruits, which typically took the form of a mugging, or injecting themselves with adrenaline—an option which no one selected. Shocking.

How when saving the familiars didn’t work, they got creative stationing their deaths to ensure the transformations didn’t take place.

But perhaps even more surprising, was how they hoped that the FBI would catch onto what was happening with the vamps, and shut them down once and for all. Hank and Maeve thought that with the bodies laid out across state lines, the FBI would see the familiars’ deaths at the hands of the vamps and get involved.

But when the FBI did decide to get involved, instead of looking at the vamps, the FBI started closing in on the apothecary. The heroes. The saviors. So, Hank and Maeve had only one course of action left—make someone else take the fall in order to continue their life saving work.