The zombie was having a hard time getting up with a broken spine. Yeah, the bacteria colony could probably figure it out, given enough time. We didn’t intend to give it any.
The body-binding charm was next to hit the floor, and Bruno lashed out with a similar spell. The combination was too much for the zombie and he froze in place like a really disturbing statue. “That’s fine for the next ten minutes. But we need to get this locked up somewhere where it can’t get loose.”
Bruno shrugged. “I recommend a crematorium. That’s the only real fix for this. Most hospitals have one on premises for vampire bite fatalities. But I have no idea where it is.”
He offered to stay with the zombie and keep him disoriented while I went to find a doctor. My vision was back to normal, and other than the delicate fangs that I could usually cover, there was nothing about me to make anyone look at me twice. One of the older doctors was able to tell me that the crematorium was in the basement, next to the morgue. We probably needed to figure out who the dead guy was, but there was so little left of him to go by that it might take a missing-person report to connect the dots. But to do that … “Hey, before you torch him, make sure you take some pictures. Maybe someone could ID him by his clothes or jewelry. At least his family would want to know…” Well, not details, maybe. But still.
“What are we going to do if it happens again?” It was a logical question from the head physician while he helped push the gurney toward the makeshift incinerator. “I mean, I know Mage DeLuca is checking the rest of the building, but it seems like that took a lot out of you and it was only one.”
Unfortunately, I didn’t have much of an answer. “I guess you’ll need to call the police. Maybe their mages can set some sort of barrier spell that’s targeted to the disease.”
He gave me a look. “Perfect. A spell to keep the sick away from the hospital. I’m sure our accountants would be thrilled, but it’s not much of an answer.”
I shrugged. “I’m not a witch, but I’ll bet there’s something that’ll work. It might take trial and error, but this is going to get worse before it gets better.”
He let out a sound that might have been a tearful laugh. “That’s what I’m afraid of. But we do appreciate your help today. At least he didn’t make it up to the second floor, where the quarantine wards are. The last thing we need is a secondary vector. We’ll have to disinfect the whole hallway as it is.”
Oh, no doubt. It stank to high heaven in the whole area. I’d nearly coughed up my liquid cookies. I wanted to back off on visiting my mom, but when I mentioned that to Bruno, he frowned at me in a way that told me he didn’t approve.
So I headed upstairs, leaving Bruno and the doctor to put the zombie into the furnace. Frankly, that’s not something I really wanted to see. I went upstairs to the quarantine ward. Dr. Gaetano wasn’t there, but the nurse told me, with a smile on her face, that my mother had been cleared and was being released. Huh?
The nurse probably didn’t expect my frown before I bolted down the hallway.
I peeked through the window of her room, standing where it would be hard for her to see me. Sure enough, she was getting dressed and didn’t seem to have any … jewelry that would prevent her from walking out the door.
Maybe I’m a horrible daughter. In fact, I have no doubt I am. But I didn’t go into the room. Instead, I grabbed the nearest nurse and explained the situation. She agreed to call a security guard to keep everyone in the room.
Then I scrolled through my phone’s address book until I got to Security Officer Baker. I didn’t even give her a chance to do more than pick up when I whispered, “What the hell, Baker? Why isn’t anyone here watching my mom? They’re about to release her. Didn’t you tell them she was a prisoner?”
“What?” Her outrage was immediate and I realized that it wasn’t her at fault. “Natura was … Oh, fire and water, never mind! My apologies, Princess. I will be there in ten minutes. No more. Could you, and I hate to even ask, keep her there?”
Like I had a choice. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to be in the room when the lady with the cuffs arrived. No, as much as I wanted to see Molly and Julie, it was better for everyone if I stayed away until my mother was back in custody. I sent a text message to Molly’s phone to explain and told her I’d try to talk to her tomorrow. Yeah, I knew I wasn’t being the best friend, but sometimes that’s the best I can do.
Damn it.
I squatted, ready to sit down in front of the doors to keep them from opening until a guard arrived. That’s when I heard the voice.
“What precisely do you think you’re doing?” The words were cold, crisp, with edges like razor blades. I’d heard my gran use that tone before, but never with me.
“Gran…” I turned to talk to her and the words froze in my mouth. My grandmother is tiny, and seems to grow more frail every time I see her. But she has a will of iron, and nothing in this world will shake her belief in God, and in my mother.
“I asked you a question.”
“She needs to stay here until the guards can come get her.”
Her arms crossed over her chest and her chin lowered into battle position. “I see. So you’re taking it on yourself to imprison her.”
“No, the hospital is, as they should. Her release order was a mistake and you know it. She’s an escaped convict, Gran. If they don’t take her back to the island she’ll wind up in jail here again. The last time almost killed her. She has to go back.”
Her lips pressed together in a tight line. She didn’t argue with me on that. She couldn’t. So she changed the subject. “What is this Lana tells me about you taking Ivy from her? Your sister’s ghost is all your mother has left of her. You’ve no right…”
My eyes rolled automatically. I couldn’t seem to help it and it didn’t improve Gran’s mood. “I didn’t take Ivy’s ghost away. I couldn’t if I wanted to. Ivy has her own mind and does what she wants. But I’m not going to let Mom steal another woman’s child by having Ivy overshadow her.”
Gran puffed up like a blowfish, her face getting red. “Overshadow a living child? That’s … evil. My Lana would never!”
The truth hurt, but I wasn’t going to let the charade go on anymore. “Your Lana damned well did. And as for evil, well, that’s my mom.”
Her hand struck out in a blur. Not a fist, but a good, hard slap to my face. I was so shocked I didn’t even try to avoid the blow. I just stood there, mouth hanging open, as the grandmother I adored turned her back on me and walked away.
20
I left another message for John from my car, becoming increasingly worried about him. I might not have intuition like Rizzoli believed, but my instincts told me I wasn’t going to like the final result. But what else could I do? I simply didn’t know him well enough to call friends and search his known hideouts. I didn’t know any of them.
That was bugging me more and more.
I called Andrew and Gillian again, but did nothing but worry them further. Gillian promised she’d call the L.A. police when the full forty-eight hours had passed. At least it was something. Then I called Molly Murphy. She’d heard about the zombie, so she was fine with my going home. “Besides, there’s nothing you can do. Nothing any of us can do.” Mick had finally arrived from the airport with his mother. Mick and Molly stood vigil over Julie while his mother went to the house with Beverly.
The bacteria had necropsied Julie’s whole arm and part of her chest and she was on oxygen. I told Molly I’d be right down, but she said no. They’d moved Julie into the ICU and she couldn’t have any visitors, not even family. The same was true with Willow. All we could do was hope.
Hope. I had to have hope. Hope that Julie and Willow would make it; hope that my gran would get past our argument.
But what if she didn’t? Gran loved Mom. She was willfully blind to my mother’s faults, enabling her at every turn. If she had to choose, I’d lose her. I’d already lost Mom. Not going and standing vigil the way Molly and Mick were for Julie hadn’t even been a conscious decision. I just hadn’t. I suppose I should feel bad about that and, in a way, I did. I will always love my mom, but her words and actions in the bar had finally finished it for me. You’re a devil child. I’d believed for so long that if she just had a chance to dry out, we would be happy again. But she’d said it herself. She didn’t want to. Didn’t want me.
If that was true, and I believed her, then she was never going to change. She’d never be the person I’d loved, who’d loved me. We’d reached the end of the road. She made her choice. She loved the bottle more. I couldn’t live with her choices … no, wouldn’t live with her this way. It was over. But, oh God, how it hurt. She’s my mom. I wanted her to be my mom.
But she didn’t want to be.
I sat in my car and cried until there were no more tears left. I felt … beaten. And I stank. The fight with the zombie had been ugly and messy. I wanted a shower. I needed food. Since the office was closer than the house, that’s where I went.
Traffic thinned out the farther I got from the hospital. I’d bet if I was in a helicopter flying above the city, it would look like either a multistar benefit concert was happening at the hospital or a tsunami had hit the coast.
I was within a few blocks of the office when a black sedan cut in front of me with a screech of tires and blue, rubber-scented smoke, startling me enough to make me jump and jerk the wheel, curbing the car. Damned if they hadn’t tried to run me right into a tree. Palm trees don’t look like much, but they’re a hell of a lot bigger than my Miata. I probably would have wound up right back at the hospital.
My foot slammed down on the brake pedal until the air was filled with the scent of burning brakes. I gave in to the desire to blast the horn and flip off the driver. What I found interesting is that when I got back onto the road and sped up to write down the license number, the rear plate was missing. That turned it from careless to intentional, which ticked me off.