We didn’t answer right away, which was telling. Finally, Ben sighed and said, “Relatively speaking, yes.”
Cormac nodded, didn’t question further. He made a wave and that tight-lipped expression that passed for a smile.
Ben loaded our gear back into the trunk—except for the crossbow, which he wanted to keep up front with us.
“I can never tell if he’s angry,” I said, watching the Jeep pull away.
“Naw, he doesn’t get angry,” Ben said. “He gets even.”
* * *
IN THE end, sleep was an awesome idea. Cormac was right: daytime was a much better time to be hunting vampires. Evidence said Roman was in Denver. Between Amelia and Tina, maybe we could scry for his location, then flush him out into the sunlight.
All the way home, I was still mulling over the night, chewing like a dog with a bone. Playing the whole scene over again, wondering what clues I missed. I could still hear Angelo screaming my name as he crumbled to dust. Ben waited for me as I climbed tiredly out of the car.
I looked at the coin still hanging around my neck. It had all happened just a few hours ago.
“I can’t believe Angelo’s gone.” He’d worked so hard to stay unnoticed, out of power and therefore out of trouble. I remembered him at New Moon, leaning back in his chair and smirking like we were all beneath him. Playing the stereotypes, but still a reluctant Master. “I can’t believe I had to kill him—” I just started crying. Waterworks. All that stress, it just broke.
We stopped, right there on the walk leading to the front door. Ben held me. Didn’t say a word, didn’t try to say everything would be okay. I sobbed on his shoulder, and he was there through it all.
Finally I cried myself out into sniffles and eye rubbing. Ben’s shirt was soaked with tears and snot, and he stood and took it. Then he put his arm around me and we walked into the house.
* * *
I DIDN’T sleep well. I kept jerking awake and sitting up, wide-eyed, like I expected to find monsters in my room. Monsters other than Ben and me. But nothing was there, just the usual collection of shadows and ambient light. My arm still ached, but the bone was apparently healing the way it should. In a few more hours it would be back to normal.
Every time I woke up, Ben woke up to ask what was wrong. A couple of times, I awakened to find him already sitting up, studying the room with narrowed, wolfish eyes.
“What the hell is wrong with us?” I groaned at one point, flopping back onto the pillow.
“Too much stress for too long,” he groaned back, stretching next to me and wrapping his arms around me, like I was a big, comforting pillow. And that was just fine.
Around dawn, after time had stretched and contracted until I had no idea when it was, the bed vibrated, like someone had grabbed hold of the mattress and shook it as hard as they could. I looked for who was pulling the prank—no one. I grabbed Ben’s arm; he grabbed back.
A crash sounded, as something elsewhere in the house fell off a shelf and broke.
Then the shaking stopped. The quiet after was profound.
“What was that?” Ben said. His eyes were wide.
“Was that the house? Is the house falling down?”
Knocking pounded the door. “Kitty?” Tina called.
“Tina, are you okay?” I grabbed my bathrobe and went to open the door. Ben pulled on pajama bottoms and a T-shirt.
She looked a lot better than she had when we got back from Albuquerque, but was still pretty banged up. That didn’t stop her from looking panicked, her eyes wide. She said, “That was an earthquake.”
Somehow that didn’t sound right. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve lived in L.A. half my life, of course I’m sure. That was at least a five-two. I didn’t know Colorado even had earthquakes.”
Ben had his phone in hand and started scrolling through news sites until he found a streaming clip. “… still waiting for confirmation from the U.S. Geological Survey. The tremors seemed focused in Denver, Arapahoe, and Jefferson Counties…” The narration went on, describing initial reactions and warnings to get to a safe place and call the gas company if you smelled gas. I took a long sniff and didn’t smell anything out of the ordinary. But all my hair stood on end and the air seemed charged.
“We’re on a major mountain range; there are plenty of fault lines,” Ben said. “We get quakes, but never anything big, not like this.”
The phones started ringing then: Ben’s, mine, Tina’s, the land line. I grabbed mine and had a dozen text messages pour in. I answered the call from my mother first.