Shapeshifted

“So will she help you?” he asked. I nodded. “What’s her price?” I gave him a look, and he shrugged. “Nothing is ever for free.”



Which begged the question why Hector was helping me. Had been helping me, ever since the day he’d seen the black flower on my chest and hired me to keep an eye on it. I really should have asked Catrina about that, dammit. I guess I’d get a chance to, tonight.



“She said if I can find her friend, she’ll trade me the blood for my mother.”



Hector made a groaning sound and shook his head.



“What?”



“Edie, that’s impossible. Adriana’s been missing for more than a month. Sometimes—rarely—kidnappings work out, but after a month? No way.”



“Oh, man.” I groaned. Hector had no reason to lie to me that I knew of, and besides, I’d watched enough true crime shows on TV to know he was right. A month was a really long time. Throw one more slim chance of saving my mom onto the pile. “Was it Maldonado?”



“Who else could it be?” Hector’s lips drew into a grim line. “But he must know what Luz is. That’s why he only comes out during the day and hunkers down at night.”



I couldn’t imagine Luz not shredding anything that moved to get to Adriana—no. Maybe once she’d been kidnapped, the threat of violence against Adriana had held her hand. She must really not know where Adriana was … and cruelest of all, she still lived in hope.



“How long does he think that’ll work?”



“Long enough.”



“Through the seventeenth?” I pressed. We were nearing a train station.



Hector drew his hand up himself like he was catching bad thoughts and throwing them away.



“I don’t understand why you won’t tell me what’s happening on that date. Do you have a cage match scheduled with him then, or what?”



“My fight with him wasn’t supposed to involve anyone else.” He sighed deeply, started patting his pockets, and retrieved a fistful of change. “Take it. Go home.”



I didn’t know if he meant home, like to my apartment home, or fired-go-home-forever, home. “What’s that?”



“Train fare.”



“You can’t fire me—” I protested.



“I’m not. The clinic needs you. You’re a good nurse. Just go home.”



I eyed his palm suspiciously. “Will you tell me everything later?”



“If I can. Give me one more night.” His eyes searched mine, and I hoped he would find what he was looking for there. “I have to get to work now, Edie. Make my life easier for once, and do what you’re told.”



I frowned but held out my hand, so he could pour the change in. As I relented, he relaxed, and I realized he must be exhausted. “You have to be as tired as I am—you should take today off.” I bit my tongue before I asked him to come home with me. Not to take advantage of him, but just to take care of him for a bit. Like he’d spent the past two days taking care of me.



His bearing softened. “I wish I could, but I can’t.” And then he stood straighter, picking up all the burdens he’d momentarily left behind. “Go home and get better. Doctor’s orders. Especially since I don’t think I can talk Olympio’s grandfather into taking you back.”



I was tired. I needed a shower. I still smelled like smoke and I was pretty sure my shirt had a stain from that disgusting poultice. “But what’re you going to do? You have to be as tired as I am.”



He smiled softly at me. “I am. But I’ve got to go to work.”



* * *



I took the next train. I got off at my stop and went home. My front door was closed, but Hector had left it unlocked.



Minnie was exorbitantly glad to see me and meowed aloud as she followed me around my house. “I know, I know.” I knuckled her head, and then stripped for my shower.



When that was through, I plugged in my phone. Three worried calls from my mother, and a private one from Peter to tell me I was being awful. I’d caught as much in his tone last night, and deleted it without listening all the way through. I called her back, tried to sound the right combination of sick and safe on the phone, and rescheduled an early dinner with her tonight.



* * *



Five hours of sleep and twelve snoozes later, I got up again. It was only three. I tied my hair up, bent at odd angles since I’d slept on it wet, and headed for the train. I got off at the stop before my mother’s to get her a small bouquet of flowers from an upscale liquor store. Then I hopped back on and off and walked up to her door.



Three knocks, and I waited. Nothing. I was reaching up to knock again when the door opened. Peter.



“Hey—”



“Your mother’s sleeping.” He stepped outside and closed the door behind him.



“I can wait—”



“She was up all night, worried sick about you. I’m not waking her up, after the stunt you pulled.”



“I’m sorry,” I said, trying to reach for the door handle. He didn’t slap my hand away, but I could see him thinking it. “I really was sick!”



He looked me up and down. I looked tired, maybe, but not ill. He knew what ill looked like. Ill was sleeping inside, right now.



“I’m not lying!” I protested.



“Keep your voice down,” he snapped at me.



“Peter—she’s my own mother. You can’t stop me from seeing her,” I said in clipped tones.



“She needs her rest right now. More than she needs to see you.” He inhaled and exhaled deeply. “Look, Edie, you and I have always gotten along. So you get another chance. But not today, not right now. I’ll tell her you came by.”



I could not believe I was being stopped. I wanted to yell at him, but what would that do? Wake my mother, so she’d stumble to the door and see us fighting? That wouldn’t do. “Here.” I shoved the bouquet forward. “They’re for her.”



He looked down at the flowers, but didn’t take them. “She’s neutropenic. You should know better.” And with that, he went back inside and closed the door.



CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX



Neutropenic people couldn’t get flowers or fresh fruit, or anything else that might have germs on it. I knew that—flowers weren’t allowed on ICU floors. And of course my mom was neutropenic, after all her rounds of chemo. She’d be lucky to have four intact white blood cells left to rub together, like the last few floating Cheerios in a cereal bowl.



I couldn’t believe it had happened, all the way home. That I’d forgotten, and that Peter’d rebuffed me. I went back to my apartment on the train, stunned and angry, and barely remembered to get off at my stop. It was drizzling as I walked in. I was halfway up the stairs to my apartment when I realized I’d left the flowers behind on my seat.



I forced myself to eat a dinner of whatever was left in my fridge. Just before nightfall, I heard a knock. Catrina was standing outside my front door. I held it open for her. “Welcome to casa de la crazy.”



Snorting, she walked in to sit down on my couch. “What now?”



“We’re on Jorgen’s time line. I’m sure he’ll show up.” He still wanted me to go with him—and now I needed something in return. I sat down on the opposite end of my couch. I’d already gotten ready. I was wearing mostly black. I’d taken the cross I’d had Olympio buy and strung it on a long string hung around my neck; my old badge from work was in my back pocket. I was super prepared to make bad decisions.



Catrina had Adriana’s sweater out, across her lap. She’d worn sensible boots, and I thought I could see the outline of a knife hilt at their top. Of course.



“How’d your sister meet Luz anyway?”



“You even know her real name.”



“Yeah. We go back awhile.”



Catrina’s eyes narrowed in thought as she looked at me. “I underestimated you.”



“I’m … sorry?” I guessed. I didn’t know what to say.



She hugged the sweater to herself and leaned back into the couch. “My sister used to have some problems. She hung out with the wrong crowd. One night, things weren’t going well for her. Luz rescued her from a bad situation. And Luz wasn’t doing so well herself, on her own. They … started hanging out. Together.” I tried to fill in the gaps in Catrina’s story with my imagination. Leaping from saving someone’s life to being on a pink-heart basis. Catrina watched me closely out of the corner of her eye. “They are in love.”



I already knew as much. It wasn’t the pink heart that gave it away, but the look on Luz’s face when she spoke of Adriana, and the warning bruise she’d left on my ankle. “When’d you know she was a vampire?”



“When she tried to kill my cat.” Catrina snorted. “I didn’t want to believe, but the stories Adriana told me, and how she’d saved her—I have the don—I didn’t want to believe, but I could see. After that, it was easy for me to help them by supplying Luz with blood. And after that, things started getting better for our block.”



Well, I’d had no idea Luz would become the world’s first socially conscious vampire when I’d met her. I wondered if Anna had had a hand in that. “What’ll happen if your sister doesn’t … come back?”



“I honestly don’t know.” Catrina was interrupted by a thump. She jumped, and Minnie bolted from the kitchen to the bedroom.



“Sorry. That’s our ride.”



* * *



We went to the door and Jorgen was there. “Hey. You’re here because you need me to help Dren, right?” I didn’t want to think of what was wrong with Dren that he couldn’t help himself, or that Jorgen couldn’t waltz in and fix. Jorgen nodded, his black eyes fixed on me.



“Okay—well, we need to make a deal.” I really hoped that my neighbors weren’t looking out right now, seeing me talk to empty space. “I need you to find someone else for me first. Then—and only then—can we go help Dren.”