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The lights came back on and Tyra stood posed with her swords crossed. Jerome wasn’t between them. Rankin still stood at the ready at the double doors. Troy had transformed again and leaped out of the window. Tyra ran after him to check the ground below, except for Troy splitting on all fours out into the wooded area, the grounds appeared clear. Rankin joined her at the shattered window. “Where did he go?” Tyra asked him.
“Did you feel him slip out from the blades?”
“No. You think she did it?”
Rankin holstered his gun then the sword. “You looked good tonight.”
“Not good enough. He got away.” She looked at Rankin who wasn’t looking at her. She walked out into the hallway knowing he’d follow. He was thinking, going over everything the way he did when he came up with something everyone else missed. Tyra gave him his time until they reached the open gate. “Who is she?” He said nothing as he took the time to button his coat. “Is she from way back? I assume she must be because she looks at least a hundred and five.” God, she hated when he closed off from her. And how could he after she just got through engaging in mortal combat? “Rankin, I’m talking to you.”
“What do you want to hear, Tyra?”
“What do I want to hear?” She crossed in front of him, stopped him with a pointed gloved finger in his face. “Do I look like Velvet to you? Answer me right now.”
“Her name is Samantha, and she is quite old by mortal standards. Well over three hundred years old.”
“And?”
“I thought she took her own life nearly two hundred years ago.” He moved around to start down the road.
“What was she doing with Jerome?”
“Didn’t you hear me say I thought she was dead? How would I know what she is up to these days?”
“Rankin, I think you’re lying to me. She hates you, why would she wait two hundred years to come back?”
“Tyra, we don’t have time for this!”
“Tell me about Samantha.”
“Velvet and Devon are injured and all you can think about is a silly old witch?”
“She asked you if Velvet was dead. She’s after Velvet and you are trying to protect her!”
“She isn’t after Velvet. She wouldn’t go that far.”
“You sure of that?”
“Tyra.”
“You better hope like hell Vee and Devon makes it, otherwise I’m obligated to catch that hag and burn her!”
“Tyra!”
“I mean it.”
“She’s too much for you. She might even be too much for Velvet.”
“Now, that’s just nonsense.”
“Do you have any idea what a crone is, Tyra. She isn’t just old. Her magics are from the ancients.”
“Well, I guess you are all impressed.”
“So should you, Tyra.”
“You are scared.” Fear was all over his now pale face. What had those two been up to back in the day?
“I know this woman, trust me on this. Leave that witch alone!”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“You want all of use to die, Tyra? Because that is all that will happen if you don’t listen to me!”
“Fine, but only until Velvet is back on her feet. If she gets back on her feet,” she added feebly, feeling helpless regardless of all the murderous declarations just a moment ago. “If she dies...”
“She will be fine, so will Devon. Trust me. Tyra?”
“Let’s just get back to town before something else happens.” She left running down the lane, appreciating the fact that he’d have to struggle to keep up with her speed.
~*~
After ducking in and out of shadows, running across rooftops, and swinging through an occasional tree or two, he was finally home on his own back porch. Jasmine was going to be pissed again, seeing him stroll in nude, all concerned about the neighbors. From inside a planter, he fished out a spare key. Making noise for Jasmine’s benefit, he entered the house.
He was pushing the swinging door open from the kitchen when he became alarmed. The faint scent of blood was in the air. Jasmine’s blood. Crouching down, he ran into the living room. The smell was stronger and fresh. Nothing appeared out of place or tossed about. A cut foot or finger, he surmised with relief. Anyway Jasmine was sitting in the big chair facing the fireplace. Probably asleep, otherwise she’d have jumped up to kiss his face and hug his neck.
He trotted over to surprise and awaken her with a quick kiss. She didn’t move and her body- her face was cold. “Jazz?” He grabbed hold of her hands, looked into her face. Her eyes were wide open. “Jasmine!” He shook her, making her head lob from side to side. “Oh no! Jasmine?!” It couldn’t be. “Jazz,” he said as he tenderly took her cold cheek into his palm. “What happened, baby?” His fingers trailed down her face to her throat. Dumbly, he looked from her face to the clean punctures on her throat.