"The blood is mine," he continued, "and you can feel free to take a sample to compare with what you found. And yes, my dad tried to clean it up. He didn't want me living in a cesspool of broken glass and congealed blood. I didn't know that was a crime."
"Obstruction is always a crime." Verra took notes of her own and said, "You'd been shot. Why not go to the police? Or at least call? Why not go to the hospital?"
Cole rested his chin on my shoulder. "As you can see, I'm fine. I didn't need to go to a hospital and spend thousands of dollars on a bandage and a couple Advil. And I didn't call the police, because I didn't know what had happened at first, didn't know about the others. When I did, well, I didn't know who I could trust."
Honest and inarguable.
"Where's your dad now?" Gautier asked.
"He's a travel writer, and I'm not sure where he is most of the time. I'm staying with the Ankhs while he's gone."
Mr. Holland was a travel writer? Was that for real?
"Seems odd that he'd leave his son the day after he'd been shot," Verra said.
Cole offered a small, pitying smile. "I'm a legal adult very capable of taking care of myself. He knows that."
Gautier had another follow-up. "Do you have his flight info? We have a few questions for him."
"I don't," Cole replied. "Last I'd heard, he was going to drive."
"I see." Verra turned her attention to me. "And your grandmother left, too?"
"Yes," I said. "I'm staying with Mr. Ankh, as well."
Now her attention shot to Mr. Ankh. "You're responsible for a lot of kids."
"Not all of them are kids. But, anyway, they're safe here," he said, hands forming a steeple on his desk. "I have security most people can only dream about."
"And you need this security because..."
Wasn't gonna let up, was she.
"I get that you're doing your job," Cole said before Mr. Ankh had time to answer. "That you want to find out who killed my friends and tried to kill me. I'm glad. I want you to find the people responsible, too. I want you to make them pay. But my dad wasn't responsible, and neither was Ankh. Of course he needs security. Look at this house and all the valuables inside it."
He didn't give them time to respond, adding, "Also, River isn't responsible for this. Yeah, I heard the news reports, too, so I was eager to chat with him. But he's convinced me he didn't do it, that he was set up, so I suggest you do a better job of detecting, before we beat you to the truth."
Gautier straightened in the chair as if his spine had been pulled on by an invisible wire. "Don't even think about seeking revenge, son. You get in the way of our investigation, and you'll find yourself behind bars."
None of us made any promises.
As if on cue, both detectives stood.
"I think that's enough for now. Thank you for your time," Verra said. "We'll be in touch."
I'm sure they would.
Footsteps echoed as they marched to the door. Clink. A minute later, their car's engine purred to life. Only then did everyone breathe another sigh of relief.
Cole gave me a bear hug, whispering, "Do me a solid and get the girls out of here. I'm going to have River tell the slayers about Collins and Justin."
Poor Cole. He'd have to relive the horror all over again.
I'd make up for it later. I kissed him and stood. "Kat, Reeve, why don't you come with me? I'm starved, and while I'm devouring half the contents of the pantry, you can give me an update about everything that happened while I was gone. Or grill me with questions about what happened on my end."
Both girls hopped to their feet, eager.
"First," River said, his attention riveted on Kat, "introduce me. Please."
Uh-oh. Someone was about to wake Papa Bear.
"All you need to know about this one--" Frosty said, proving Papa Bear had done been woken as he stomped over to Kat to clasp her by the back of the neck and pull her close for a swift, hard kiss "--is that she's mine, and I don't share."
To Kat he said, "Miss me while you're gone."
"Never."
"Harsh. I'll miss you."
"That's because you love me more than I love you."
He barked out a laugh and spanked her on the bottom. "Everyone knows you love me more than I love you. Now get out of here before I make you prove it."
She was grinning as she skipped from the office.
"You don't talk to or even look at the other one," Bronx said, hitching his thumb in Reeve's direction. "She happens to be mine."
Reeve waved.
Mr. Ankh dropped his head into his upraised hands.
"Possessive little buggers, aren't they?" River said to Camilla. "What happened to friends sharing with friends?"
She was too busy staring at Cole to answer.
I rolled my eyes. After hooking my arm through Reeve's, I drew her out of the room. Kat was already in the kitchen, making me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Owed her big-time! I claimed a chair at the table.
"Thank you," I said, beyond grateful as she set the plate in front of me. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," she said.
She looked it.
"So, where are Veronica and Juliana?" I asked.
"Holed up in their room," Reeve said, taking the chair at my left. "My dad wanted them out of sight. He also told us not to mention them to the police."
They really were off the grid, then. I wondered why.
"Um, Ali," Kat began, claiming the chair at my right.
Uh-oh. "What?" I said, the bite I'd just taken settling like a lead ball. "What's happened?"
They shared a look laden with dread.
"The boys were talking about some new ability you have," Kat said, twisting her fingers together. "They said it's, like, as un-cake-like as possible."
To zombies, sure. "And?" I prompted, relaxing.
"Well," Reeve said, picking up where Kat had left off, "when my dad heard about it, he paled. He fell into his chair, and I swear I thought he was going to vomit the dinner I'd spent an hour preparing."
"And?" I asked. Getting answers from these two was worse than pulling teeth.
Kat nibbled on her bottom lip. "He said he knew of only one other person who could do what you did, and her name was Helen Conway."
Helen Conway.
Helen.
My Helen.
That... Well, it proved what Helen had said that day in the forest. Had it really happened yesterday, even though it felt like forever ago? Her hand had hovered over mine as warmth had flowed through me, passing her ability to me. A gift.
"Ali," Kat continued, her voice wobbling. "Ten years ago, Helen died doing a job...for Anima."
Chapter 15
GOT BRAIN?
Helen died doing a job for Anima.
The words tumbled through my mind, making me buzz with equal parts bewilderment and frustration. If she had worked for the enemy, why was she helping me now? To lure me in, just to trick me more easily later?
Smart, yes. But not likely.
First, she was a Witness, and Witnesses worked for Team Good, never Team Evil. Second, a monster wouldn't have cared about giving up her little girl.
But her remorse...a dream, nothing more.
No. I didn't think so. Not anymore. The emotions had been real, the scene vivid. It had happened, no doubt about it. My heart accepted what my mind couldn't yet understand. Somehow, I'd seen into someone else's past.
Yet, here was another conundrum. Helen died ten years ago, roughly twelve months after giving up her little girl. So, where was the little girl? Well, not so little anymore. I remembered the calendar, knew she'd be seventeen...maybe eighteen.
What was she to me? Because she had to be something. No one else had eyes like ours. I'd always thought I'd inherited mine from my dad, even though his were dark blue. Apples and oranges, I admitted now.
How was Cole going to react to this?
I peered at Kat. "Would you hate me if I skipped out on another girls
' day?"
"Only for a minute. Then I'll get over myself."
I smiled. "If I was into girls..."
"I know! You'd be all over me. You wouldn't be able to help yourself. But that's true of every person on the planet."
Healthy ego intact? Check. I kissed her cheek and gave Reeve a hug. "Thanks, guys."
"I notice you didn't ask about my hate," Reeve quipped.
"You're not likely to claw my face off in a fit of pique."
She nodded. "That's fair."
I paced outside Mr. Ankh's office for ten...fifteen minutes, but the conversation remained on business, and I couldn't interrupt. I finally gave up and holed up in my room to pore over the journal and compare its pages to the pictures on my phone.
The effort paid off. I found a missing page in the journal, the paper ripped close to the binding. My mind leaped from one thought to the next. The copied page had come from Anima. Helen had worked for them. If she came from my mother's side, she could have had access to the journal. She could have ripped out a page and handed it over.
That would make her the traitor Cole was certain she was.
No time to process. Cole strode into my room and shut the door. Gasping, guilty, I shut the journal and jolted to my feet.
"You're here," I said and gulped.
He frowned. "Do you not want me to be?"
Yes. No. Maybe. "Will you..." crap "...tell me what you know about Helen Conway." I couldn't avoid this topic anymore, didn't want to. "Please."
"What do you want to know?"
Everything. "Anything."
"Why?"
"Tell me. Then I'll outline my reasons."
He scrubbed a hand down his face. "She worked for Anima with Veronica's mom. They were roommates, friends. Then Veronica's mom abandoned ship. She didn't."
"How did she die?"
"My dad killed her."
Okay. That, I couldn't have predicted. "Because she worked for Anima?"
His eyes narrowed, hate swimming in their depths. "Zombies might have been the smoking gun that killed my mother, but she pulled the trigger. She sent them. Then she collared my mother's spirit and sent her after me and my dad."
And I was most likely related to her? Might vomit. "Cole. I'm so sorry."
He waved away my sympathy, too upset to accept it.
"How do you know she was responsible?" I asked.
"She cornered my dad about a week before, bragged about what she was going to do."
Wait. I shook my head, unsure. Bragged--or warned?
I don't want to think the worst about her, do I? No matter the evidence stacked against her.
"After...just after, my dad went after her," he said, gritting his teeth. "He shot her. And if you want to know any more than that, I'll have to ask him."
This had to be a nightmare for him, like ripping scabs off old wounds, and I hated that--but it didn't stop me. "Yes, please." I had to know the truth. "Ask him."
He stalked across the room to make the call. I dialed Nana.
"Ali!" Hearing her voice warmed some of the chill that had taken root inside me. "How are you?"
"I'm...okay."
"Okay? Well, that's not very banging, is it?"
Banging? Oh, Nana. Not that word. Please, no. "What are you up to?" I thought I heard waves lapping in the background.
"Strangely enough, I'm chillaxing. I hate to admit this, but...it's nice. Since your pops died, I've been... Well, you know. I didn't realize I needed this. And that makes me feel so guilty! Especially because you're there, doing I don't know what, and I probably don't want to know what."
True. "You don't need to worry about me. I am kicking butt and not bothering with names."
"Oh, sweetheart. That's wonderful. But are you eating properly? Resting? Doing the horizontal hokey pokey with Cole?"
I nearly choked on my own tongue. "Nana!"
"It's a legitimate question, dear. One that deserves an answer."
"No!" I blurted, certain I was a nice shade of lobster-red. "I'm not." Not technically. I cleared my throat, then, changing the subject, asked, "Are you safe?"
"Never been safer."
"Good. That's good." I paused. "Nana," I said, launching into an urgent, back-and-forth pace, "am I related to a girl named Helen Conway?"
Silence.
Such heavy silence.
"Nana?"
"Ali," she said. She cleared her throat. "She's my niece. Your mother's cousin. Why?" Gone was her joviality.
So. There was a familial connection. Which meant I had a relative who'd (1) worked for Anima and (2) killed Cole's mom. Awesome.
"Why have I never heard of her before? You've never talked about her. Mom never talked about her. Why?"
Again, silence, and I wasn't sure what to think.
Then she said, "She took off right after high-school graduation. I never heard from her again."
"What of her parents?"
"They're dead," Nana added, "just as Helen is."
"What about--"
"Ali. Let's drop this, all right? Please." Her desperation tugged at my heartstrings, and if I'd been made of weaker stuff, I would have done as she'd asked.
But I wasn't. "I can't. I won't." None of her family--my family--had known Helen worked for Anima. Otherwise, they would have known about the zombies, and none of them had. "I have to know everything. I deserve to know."
Cole stepped in front of me. The muscles in his face were like stone, or ice, carved from a blade surely honed in the fires of rage, and it kind of scared me. He'd never looked at me like that.
"Nana," I said. "It's your lucky day. You're gonna get the reprieve you want. But I'm calling you tomorrow, and I expect you to answer all of my questions."
"All right," she said and sighed. "Tomorrow. Just know that, no matter what, I love you. So much. Never forget that."
What wasn't she telling me? Whatever it was, it frightened her. Badly. Made her think I'd grow to...what? Hate her? Not gonna happen. "I love you, too. I'll always love you."
Trembling, I set my phone aside. I opened my mouth to ask Cole what was wrong, but he just handed me his phone.
"Mr. Holland?" I asked.
He didn't waste time with pleasantries. "I graduated a year before your parents."
Um, okay. "That's...nice?"
"Just listen," he barked, startling me. "I kept track of the students in the grades behind me, always on the lookout for new recruits. I was especially interested in your dad. But you know that already. You also know he wasn't interested in me."
"I don't--"
"He started dating Helen his senior year."
Wait.
What? My dad and Helen?
"I tried to recruit them both, in fact. Unlike your dad, she was interested. Then, from what I've been able to piece together, your dad met your mom at some family get-together and dumped Helen that same night. He and Miranda started dating the next day. A few months later, all three graduated. Your dad and mom got married almost right away, and Helen took off. I'm not sure when she started working for Anima. All I know is that she returned to Birmingham six years later. There were rumors she'd had a daughter, but the little girl, Samantha, had died."
Wait, wait, wait. Back up. That sweet little girl was dead?
Reeling. "Died how?"
"Zombie bite."
I didn't like that, wouldn't believe it until I had proof. Rumors weren't always true. If they were, Cole would have horns, fangs and a forked tail and I would, apparently, look like a he-man. What if the girl, Samantha, was out there?
Could she be my...sister?
What did I know about her?
Helen had packed a bag for her. Had planned to send her to her dad.
"Who's the girl's father?" I asked, then froze, ice actually crystallizing in my veins. Dark suspicions were like a cascade of wind. What if she wasn't my sister, but I was...
"Don't know that, either," he said.
Nana's reaction to my questions...<
br />
Helen saying, "They'll think that you're..." to the little girl.
Dead, I finished now and knew I was right.
And Mr. Holland had called the little girl Samantha. Sami. The name Helen spoke the first time she appeared to me. At the time, I thought she was telling me her name. But she'd clearly been saying her daughter's name...while looking at me. Calling me--
No!
I vividly remembered my mom--my real mom--telling me she'd named me after my dad's mother at birth. So, why was I even traveling this path? It was impossible. I had no memories of Helen.
Well, except for the dreams.
I struggled to breathe. The truth was, I had no memories of the first five years of my life.
Five, not six.
The difference mattered. I couldn't be Sami. I'd gotten it right the first time. Sister.
But...two facts niggled at me. One, there were very few pictures of my early years, and those we had were of me. Just me. I'd never thought that strange before.
I thought it strange now.
Two, I'd always felt like the odd man out at my grandparents' house. Like they'd seen something in Emma they hadn't seen in me.
I pushed out a breath.
Time to break down the facts. Helen had dated my dad. Probably slept with him. She'd disappeared soon after graduation. To escape the pain of seeing my mom and dad together--to hide a pregnancy?
Then, after her death, she'd come back to help a long-lost second cousin, the daughter of the man who'd betrayed her, and not the company she'd worked for? No. But someone with a closer connection to her? Far more likely.
And really, birthdays could be changed as easily as names.
If she was... If it was true... Can't possibly be true. Why wait so long to reveal herself? Why come to me now and not, say, when I first lost my parents? Or when I battled Zombie Ali?
Questions, questions. So many questions.
"There you have it," Mr. Holland said, drawing me back to our conversation. "Everything I know. Now. I want you to tell me why this information is so important to you."
Did he suspect what I did?
I shook my head, even though I knew he couldn't see the action. My gaze found Cole. He wasn't looking at me, but over my shoulder, his eyes narrowed, his lips compressed into a thin line. If Helen was...my mother--no, she couldn't be my mother; I refused to believe it--then the woman who had given birth to me had helped kill the woman who had given birth to him, and in a bid for revenge, his dad had murdered her for it.
It was a sick, twisted history. How could two people in a romantic relationship ever hope to recover?
I walked to the window and peered out into the dwindling light. The sun was hidden, the sky gray. The rabbit cloud was still there, only darker. Menacing, like my mood.