CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Monday, October 31st

WHEN KANDICE WOKE UP AGAIN, Slava and Lance were moving around the living room.

"What's going on?" she asked, still half asleep.

"Go back to sleep," Lance said.

She sat up and her arm didn't hurt anymore, "Where's Blake?"

Lance stopped what he was doing and sat down on the coffee table in front of Kandice, "I'm so sorry."

"What do you mean?" she asked in a panic.

"He didn't make it."

"No!" Kandice shouted, remembering what had happened. "No! you healed him!"

He had to have been able to heal Blake. She'd seen what they could do. They healed two different bullet wounds since she'd known them. Hell, she was fine. Why wouldn't Blake be?

"I'm sorry," Lance said. "He lost too much blood. I couldn't stop the bleeding fast enough."

"No!" she said with tears pouring down her face. "Where is he?"

"He's in the garage."

Kandice started to stand.

"You need to rest," Lance said. "You don't need to see this."

"Fuck that!"

Her body screamed of exhaustion as she pushed off the couch. She was standing, but her legs wobbled. Lance stood up and put his arm under hers.

She tried to shove him off but he wouldn't let her.

"I'll help you," he said.

He led her into the garage slow and steady. When he opened the trunk, Kandice broke down into fresh tears. Blake's face was pale, and there was blood everywhere.

Kandice bent over and hurled from the putrid odor. There was nothing in her stomach, so the only thing that came up was bile.

Lance held her up while she vomited on his boots.

"It's my fault," he said. "I'm so sorry."

When there was nothing left to throw up, Kandice straightened up. Somehow, the tears had left her stronger. The realization set in and the overwhelming sadness became fuel for her anger. Her mental state stood on the precipice of her life.

One more step and her mind would fall into the abyss, and never recover. Or, she could fight. She could fight with a fury she'd never had before. The rage that had fueled her desire to hunt when her mom died was nothing by comparison to knowing Blake was dead. As she attempted to process it all her mind cleared, and only numbness remained.

"What now?" she asked. "Where did the mayor go?"

"I don't know," he said. "Slava is trying to figure it out. He's already spoken with the Biancardi twins."

"So?"

"They're taking care of the investigation. We'll be fine, but we have to dispose of the body."

"You mean Blake!" she said.

"Yes. We've made a plan. We will plant the body, then call it in. It will look like a robbery gone bad."

"What do you mean?"

Lance looked at his watch, "It's eleven. I'll drop the body off and then go back around six to call it in. I'll pretend to be a jogger who came across the body, if no one else has called it in by then."

"You can't just drop his body off somewhere."

"I'm sorry, but it's the only option," his tone said it was one of those non-negotiable things.

"It's my fault," she said.

"What?" he asked. "No, it's not."

"Yes, it is. You said it would be safer to kill the guards, and you were right. If I had killed the fucker, rather than knocking him out, none of this would have happened."

"You can't blame yourself. I should never have let him come inside. Really, I should never have let you two come along at all."

She looked him in the eyes for several moments, then hugged him. Lance held her in his arms until she lost track of time.

"I have to go," he said, once she broke the hug. "I need to get his body placed."

"I'm coming with," Kandice said.

He argued, but realized it was pointless. She held her death-glare that said, "I dare you to defy me," until she got into the SUV.