Warrior

Chapter 13-1

Chapter 13

“Nikolas, come in.”

I entered the apartment and closed the door behind me. Following Nate into the kitchen, I sat at the table as he rolled his chair to the spot across from me. I couldn’t help but notice his pale skin and the dark shadows under his eyes. He’d lost weight as well. Neither of us was eating or sleeping well these days, but he didn’t have a demon to bolster his strength.

I gave him a hard stare. “When was the last time you ate? Or slept?”

“I ate” – he looked at the wall clock in the kitchen – “five hours ago.” He avoided my question about sleep like he always did.

“Nate, you have to take better care of yourself. What will Sara say when she comes home and sees you like this?”

His green eyes, so much like hers, took on a haunted look. “Nikolas, it’s been two weeks.”

“I know.”

If he asked, I could tell him exactly how many days and hours it had been. I’d spent them searching every stretch of woods and road, every cave and cove for fifty miles. I had driven every street in Portland, praying I’d feel her presence. Our people had used every resource at our disposal, trying to find even a trace of her. It was as if Sara had vanished into thin air.

In the beginning, everyone had joined in the search, despite the tension between the wolves and the dozen or so warriors camping out in town. The pack was upset so many vampires had walked into their territory and attacked someone under their protection. Maxwell had been incensed that the two wolves he’d sent to guard Sara that day had shirked their responsibility, thinking it wasn’t their job to protect a Mohiri. Maxwell had assured me their punishment was severe. Cold comfort.

After the third day, people began to say Sara was dead. Wherever I went in town, I could overhear conversations about “that poor girl who drowned.” It angered me every time I heard them talk about her that way, but I couldn’t stop people from talking.

It was a week before her friends gave up hope. I didn’t see much of Roland and Peter after that because Maxwell had them doing extra training. But the few times I saw them it was clear the two of them were grieving.

“Sara’s not coming home,” Nate said.

“Yes, she is. Don’t give up on her.”

“I want to believe that more than anything, but I have to face the truth, and so do you.” He swallowed hard. “Sara is dead. It’s time we both accept it.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.” As long as the bond was alive, Sara was alive, and I’d search for her forever if that’s what it took.

He sighed wearily and looked down at his clasped hands. “Father Glenn came to see me yesterday. He thinks it’s time we let people say good-bye to Sara. We’re having a memorial service for her tomorrow at St. Patrick’s. I thought you might like to be there.”

I pushed my chair back and strode to the window. My fingers gripped the edge of the countertop as I stared at the waterfront and tried to rein in my emotions. I didn’t know where Sara was, but I knew with absolute certainty she was alive. And no one would ever convince me otherwise.

“You have to let her go. We both do. I don’t know how your people cope with grief, but humans need closure. We say good-bye. Then we try to keep going as best we can.”

When I didn’t respond, he continued. “I know you felt responsible for her, and you blame yourself for what happened. Anyone who’s met you knows you did everything in your power to save her. Sara knows that too.”

The countertop creaked under my fingers, and I released it before I accidentally pulled it from the wall. Turning, I met Nate’s agonized gaze. I didn’t want to add to his pain, but I would never accept that Sara was gone forever. My heart would stop beating before I gave up on her.

“I understand why you need to have the service, but I won’t be there.” My voice was steady, revealing nothing of the storm raging inside me. I walked past him and stopped in the kitchen doorway. “I’m sorry.”

I left the apartment and strode back to my hotel where my bike was parked. A few minutes later, I rode past Nate’s, heading out of town.

Passing the marina, I spotted the large yacht still moored at the end of the main dock. After Sara disappeared, Roland told us the two of them had narrowly escaped Haism’s men and the Hale witch at the marina the night of the storm. They’d gone there to meet her buyer, Malloy, and the men had come after them. He and Sara had escaped by jumping off a boat and hiding under the pier. Roland said he and Sara had honestly believed those men were after Malloy and that they’d just gotten caught up in his trouble.

Chris and I had scoured every inch of al-Hawwash’s yacht for clues, anything that would lead us to Sara. Tristan had sent people to go through the sheik’s house in Portland, along with many of his other holdings around the world. Tristan believed the sheik had Sara stashed away somewhere, and he had Yusri al-Hawwash living under a microscope these days. The sheik couldn’t buy toothpaste without us knowing about it.

I passed the city limit sign, and soon I was on the old mine road. I’d been down this way so many times in the last two weeks that I knew every rock, tree, and bend in the road. I parked in my usual spot and trekked through the woods to the cliff, the last place I’d seen Sara.

When I broke through the trees at the edge of the field, my throat tightened as it did every time I saw the cliff. Memories of that day assailed me, and I relived them all, trying to see what I could have done differently. I’d been through countless battles and I’d never doubted my skills as a warrior. But this one haunted me and left me wondering how I had failed her.

I walked to the edge of the cliff and stared down at the waves pummeling its base. Nate, the werewolves, and the whole town believed Sara had died here, her body swept out to sea. I understood why they’d given up hope; they didn’t have a bond telling them she was still alive.

But even without the bond, I’d find it hard to believe that such a spirited, passionate person, who had survived so much, was gone. She’d tried so hard to go unnoticed, not realizing her inner fire drew people to her like a beacon, just as it had called to me before I knew who or what she was.

And now they wanted to say good-bye to her. Tomorrow her family and friends would gather in their church to sing sad hymns and pray for her immortal soul. I couldn’t do that, not for Nate or anyone else. It would be a betrayal of the person who I knew was still alive out there, lost and waiting to be found.

“Where are you, Sara?” I asked for what felt like the thousandth time.

For the thousandth time, there was no answer.

* * *Organ music spilled from the open double doors of the church that was filled to overflowing. At least a dozen men stood on the steps because there was no room for them inside. The music stopped and the priest began to speak again, his deep voice amplified by the microphone he was using.

I stood across the street from the church but close enough for my enhanced hearing to pick up the priest’s words.

“Our hearts are heavy with sorrow today as we come together to say good-bye to Sara Grey, who was called home into our Lord’s embrace. When we lose a child, it’s natural for us to question why God would take someone young –”

Pain pricked my chest, and I rubbed the spot over my heart as I tuned out the priest’s voice. I didn’t know why I had come here, why I would torment myself this way. Watching people gather in a memorial service for someone I knew was alive was senseless.

But I couldn’t turn away. Sara’s uncle and friends were inside the church, mourning her. I’d watched Nate arrive with Roland and Judith, and it tore at me to see the grief on their faces. I think I stayed because I didn’t want them to suffer alone.

The priest stopped talking, and I heard someone else take the mic. I could tell by the voice that she was young, most likely one of Sara’s classmates. She spoke for a few minutes, and then someone else started talking. We had a custom like this among my people, where friends and family of a fallen warrior would take turns celebrating the warrior’s life. Perhaps we were not as different from humans as I’d thought.

The music began again, and people poured slowly from the church. Nate appeared first, accompanied by Judith and Maxwell. He sat in his chair just outside the door, and people stopped to pay their condolences as they filed out. It looked like the entire pack had shown up, along with most of Sara’s school.

Roland and Peter emerged with a young man in a black biker jacket. The man’s dark blond hair fell to his shoulders, but it didn’t hide the raw grief on his face.

Who was he? A friend? A relative? Or someone who’d been more than a friend to her? The emotions he showed were not those of simple friendship. This man cared about her deeply.

At the bottom of the church steps, the three of them stopped to talk, and Roland laid his hand on the other man’s shoulder. The blond man nodded and walked to a classic Harley sitting alone at the end of the parking lot. He straddled the bike and just sat there, his head hung and his shoulders shaking. After a few minutes, he wiped his eyes with his sleeve and drove off.

I looked at the church again as Chris appeared in the doorway. He spoke briefly to Nate before he continued down the steps. Chris believed me when I said Sara was alive, but he’d felt he should be at the service since he was her family. Tristan decided not to come to the service. He said he couldn’t bear to watch Sara’s friends and family grieve her when she was still alive.

Chris looked my way as he walked to his bike, but he didn’t come over. I think he knew the last thing I wanted in that moment was company.

I stood there a few minutes longer, watching the church empty of mourners. When the last strains of organ music filled the air, I turned and walked away.

* * *The wharf was deserted when I started my stroll down to the end of it. No doubt it was because of the cold wind that formed little whitecaps on the water and buffeted the waterfront.

I didn’t mind the cold; in fact, I welcomed it because it let me have this spot to myself. Of all the places in New Hastings, this was where I felt closest to Sara. I could see why she loved it here. I’d never been a sentimental person, but lately I found myself looking at things and seeing them through her eyes. She’d probably laugh if she could hear my thoughts now.

I turned my back on the water and faced the waterfront where a handful of people went about their business. Life here had settled back into its normal quiet routine in the three weeks since Sara disappeared. Erik’s team was back in Boston, trying to track down the sudden flow of the demon drug heffion into the city. A few days ago, Tristan had finally called back the extra unit he’d sent to help with the search for Sara. Only Chris and I stayed in Maine, and he split his time between here and Portland.

From my vantage point, I could see Sara’s building at the end of the waterfront. Nate and I had gotten to know each other in recent weeks, and I’d grown to admire and respect him. We talked about his days in the military before his injury and his transition to a much quieter life in New Hastings. He’d confided in me how he’d been scared to death when Sara came to live with him after her father was killed. He’d had no idea how to raise a child, but he’d never regretted his decision. It was easy to see where Sara got her courage and compassion.

I stuck my hands in my pockets and started walking back the way I’d come. When I reached the waterfront, I turned right toward my hotel, but changed my mind and came about. I felt oddly restless, even more than usual, and I didn’t want to spend the next few hours holed up in my hotel room.