Roaring Dawn: Macey Book 3 (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 10)(38)
“That’s bloody good news. And though it might not matter any longer now that Iscariot’s gone, I have this for you.” With effort—because damn, he was sore, and everything seemed crunchy and painful whenever he moved, not to mention that his head still felt light—Grady reached for the small box on the bedside table where they’d put his personal belongings.
He was grateful that, though he fumbled with slow fingers and it took him forever to get the box onto his lap, Max showed no impatience, nor seemed inclined to offer assistance in order to move things along. Inside the box were several articles of his own—wallet, keys to his house and automobile—but also other items.
The first thing he withdrew was a square emerald—the item Iscariot was wearing that had emitted a nauseatingly green glow.
Max’s eyes widened with shock. “Rasputin’s amulet. How the devil did you get that?”
Grady couldn’t hold back a satisfied grin, though even that action, in the wake of hustling the box onto his lap, made him want to puke. “Snitched it right off his shirt just as he decided I’d be a good snack. It’s the simple magician trick of misdirection and distraction—you remember from talking to Harry.”
“Right. Well, I was more interested in picking handcuff locks than pockets,” Max replied with a wry smile as he took the amulet.
“I’d had holy water to drink before I went inside,” Grady added ruefully. “But it must not have permeated my blood soon enough to create an aversion.”
Max nodded. “That’s going to help with your healing, too. It’s an old trick of Max Pesaro—you wouldn’t know of him, but he’s legendary. I’m named after him, in fact—he’s my great-grandfather. Savina had that happen to her once as well—she didn’t have enough time to let it get into her blood before she was…bitten. That was…a difficult time.”
He looked back down at the emerald. “I don’t know how you managed it, but thank you. Surely the loss of this pendant weakened Iscariot, and that only helped us to kill him.”
“Us?”
“My daughter. Macey. Perhaps you’ll meet her some day. She was… She’s here in hospital too. I…uh…” His expression changed to one of pained chagrin, then closed off. “She’ll be all right. Right, then. Thank you again, Grady.”
“I also emptied his pockets, and that of three of the other goons who got close enough. I’m not sure anything is important.” Grady shrugged when Max looked at him with a strange side-eye glance. “Old habits die hard.”
Max made a show of patting his own pockets and checking for his timepiece, but his eyes glinted with appreciation. “Glad to have you on my side, then, mate.”
Grady pulled out the other items he’d taken from the vampires. He didn’t believe there was anything else significant, but Max would be the one to know.
“Keys…some coins…a few scraps of paper,” he said, poking through the small pile. “Wouldn’t have thought the likes of them would bother to pay for anything, but that looks like a receipt. I’ll take them; it might help us find out where the rest of the bastards are holed up. Thank you again.”
Grady shrugged. “Not sure why you’re thanking me. Anyone would do the same. If they knew.”
Max shook his head, his expression sober. “No, they wouldn’t. Believe me, I know.”
“So, what does this mean now that Iscariot is dead?”
“It means for the first time in thirty years, I might sleep well tonight.” Max smiled slightly, then stood. “And now, you should rest. I have to meet up with your copper friends to ensure none of them leave remembering what they saw today.”
“Linwood…can you spare him? He’s known for a while. He’s discreet, and with him being on the police force, it helps that he knows when there are incidents like this.”
Max nodded and stood. “Very well. I hope they let you out of here soon.”
“Tomorrow. At the latest. I’ve got a story to write.” Grady smiled wanly.
Max replaced his hat and touched his brim, then swept out of the ward just as quickly and silently as he’d come.
Grady took the jar of salve and began to use it. Max hadn’t lied—it was sticky as molasses, but it smelled fresh and clean.
The sooner he felt better, the sooner he could get out of this damned place.
+ + +
Max had delayed as long as he could. Now he was out of time.
Grady had been visited, the cops and young girls had been relieved of any memories related to fangs and bloodsucking, and the surgery to remove the stake and stitch up his daughter had been completed. Max had run out of excuses.
His hands were shamefully clammy as he approached the door to Macey’s room. He’d arranged for her to have a private room in the hospital—and willingly paid through the nose for the privilege. St. Joseph’s was a Catholic hospital, which meant there were crosses, crucifixes, and other vampire deterrents throughout the building and at every entrance, so she’d be protected from any unwanted visitors until he could get her out.
He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Macey’s eyes were closed, and she seemed to be breathing normally. He exhaled noiselessly, relief sweeping through him.
She’s sleeping.
He could go, and he’d be able to tell Savina truthfully that he’d gone into the room and seen Macey.
Max turned, reaching for the doorknob…then stopped.
What the hell was wrong with him? He had no fear when it came to facing an entire battalion of undead, but his knees were knocking at the thought of being alone with his only child?
Of course, he had nearly killed her…
As if he’d sent his thoughts to her, Macey opened her eyes. They were clear and lucid.
“Leaving so soon?” she asked.
Damn. She’d been awake all along.
“No.” He stepped closer to the bed and looked down at her. She looked frail and fragile, small and pale, under the blankets and what he could see of the bandages around her injured shoulder. But he knew better. “How do you feel?”
“Iscariot’s dead. How do you think I feel?” She managed a wan smile, and Max felt a burst of pride and delight.
She was right: Iscariot was gone.
“Nice work,” he said, then glanced at the chair next to the bed.
She saw him look at it. “You can sit down. I’m too sore to be in a vengeful mood.”
It took him a moment to realize what she meant. “Christ, Macey, I’m so sorry about that.” His half-smile disintegrated and he felt a lump in his throat. “I could have killed you.”
Christ. He could have killed his own daughter. The thought was simply horrifying, and he couldn’t get rid of it.
“I’ve missed being killed several times now, Max. I guess I’m just lucky.” She looked at him, and he was relieved to see compassion in her eyes. “You couldn’t have planned for that, and I’d have done the same thing if I were you. But you do have one hell of an arm. Even from that distance, it went right through me.”
“I wanted the bastard dusted,” he said from between tight jaws.
“You and I both.”
“Rather fitting that we did it together,” he said with another crooked smile. “Both at the same time. We couldn’t have planned it that way.”
“What were the chances?” she replied. After a moment she asked, “And what about the others? The girls? Anyone else? Did— How are they all?”
“All but one of the girls is safe. The man who was in there—he was a reporter, name of Grady—he’s here at St. Joe’s too, and doing all right. He’ll live. But the one girl…” His mouth flattened with regret and grief. “We aren’t sure yet whether she’ll make it.”
Macey sighed sadly, and they lapsed into silence.
Max had so many things he knew he should say…things long overdue, things that had been locked away so deeply they hadn’t seen the top of his mind for over a decade.
But the words weren’t ready to come, and so he dug in his pockets to pull out more salted holy water, and another pot of the sticky salve.
“You’ll heal well on your own thanks to the vis bulla,” he said, offering them to her. “But these will help speed up the process. And take away the pain.”
“Thank you.” She opened the jar and sniffed. “Hmm. Not bad.” Her hands dropped to her lap, the jar and its top still gripped in her fingers. She stared down at them. “I’m glad you were there. I don’t…I don’t know if I could have done it alone.”
A spark of warmth popped inside him. “You were brilliant, Macey. Every bit of it. I…I confess, there was a moment there when I was just waiting, enjoying, watching to see what you were going to do next. You’re going to make an excellent Summa Gardella.”
“Let’s not rush things. The current summas is still alive and well.” Her lips curved, and she looked down shyly. “Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you.”
“Macey,” he began in a rush—because it felt like now or never, “I want to tell you how sorry I am about—”
She held up her hand. “Please, Max. Let’s not talk about that right now. I’m— I…don’t want to… Look, I’m glad you’re here, because I don’t know if I’d have been able to take care of Iscariot myself—especially with Chas being gone, and Sebastian, too. But beyond that…I’m not ready to think about…about you being here, you know, in any other capacity. All right?”