Jesus, Maggie, and David didn't linger long after Maggie and Melissa had come down to tell everyone that mother, father, and baby were all doing fine.
They walked out of the condo together, right into a crowd blocking the entrance, along with the flashing lights of a police cruiser. Pulling out their FBI creds, they threaded their way through the crowd, with Maggie calling out that she was a doctor.
As they broke past the press of bodies, Jesus caught sight of the building’s doorman lying on the sidewalk, bleeding profusely. Maggie immediately rushed to his side, identified herself, and kneeled to examine the man.
“Jason, talk to me,” she said as she popped open her medical bag and grabbed some gauze pads.
“He came out of nowhere. Stuck me fast and slashed me,” he said, grimacing and clutching at his midsection.
“Easy, Jason. Let me see what's happening,” she said calmly and moved his hands away to examine the wounds.
Jesus caught a quick glimpse of deep slashes across the man's abdomen...and something more distinctive carved on his chest. An ornate “C.”
Jesus had seen that “C” before.
“You're going to be okay, Jason. We just need to get you to the hospital,” Maggie said, and looked at the police officers. “Have you called for a bus?”
“No hospital. I'll be okay,” Jason said between rough breaths. A bit of neon gleamed in his eyes before he shuttered his gaze.
Jesus laid a hand on her shoulder. “Maggie, he's one of Ryder's people. Better we deal with this inside.” He nodded his head toward the building.
“You've got to be kidding me. I've got to call for an EMT,” the one cop said, tipping his hat back and reaching for the radio attached to the shoulder of his shirt.
“It's really not that bad,” Maggie said, and swiped the blood away to reveal wounds that were much smaller than before. Jason's vampire healing kicked in, as she’d figured.
The two cops looked at it in confusion, but relented as Jesus flashed his FBI creds and said, “We've got it under control here, officers. Thank you for your help.”
They looked at the ID and at him as if he smelled bad, then began dispersing the already thinning crowd. “Nothing to see here. Get a move on,” one of the cops said as the two of them shooed away those who lingered.
As the lookie-loos drifted away, the two cops walked back to their car. One of them murmured, “Fuckin' feds. Always shoving their noses in everything.”
Jesus shook his head and squatted next to Jason. “I'm going to help you to your feet and we're going inside, okay?”
Jason bit his lip, showing only a small hint of fang, and Jesus eased his arm around the other man's shoulders and heaved him to his feet. A small grunt of pain escaped the doorman, but he wrapped one arm around his midsection and the other over Jesus's shoulder.
They stumbled back into the building. Jason said, “There's an employee lounge just down the hall.”
Jesus glanced at Maggie and David. “Can one of you call Ryder? Ask him to come down?”
“You seem to know more than you're saying,” David replied with a frown.
“I do, and it's a problem. Better you all hear it together, including Ryder.”
As they walked, Maggie phoned Ryder, and when they were in the lounge, Jesus got the doorman settled on a small sofa. Maggie sat on the coffee table in front of him and went to work cleaning his wounds. They were nearly knitted by now, with only a slight ooze of blood.
Jesus was always amazed by the vamp power to heal. By tomorrow, Jason would likely not even show a hint of the damage.
But the intended message had been sent.
Ryder walked in a couple of minutes later, clearly angry at having been pulled away from Diana's side and upset by the injury to his employee. He moved to the doorman's side and asked, “How are you doing, Jason?”
“I'll be fine, Mr. Latimer,” he said, shooting a quick look down at his midsection.
“What happened?” David asked as they all gathered around.
“I had just opened the door for one of the condo residents. I turned and he was there, right in my face. Next thing I knew, he nailed me, literally. Fucking sharp claws on him.”
“Can you describe him?” David asked, working him the way they would any other witness.
“At least six foot. Dark hair. Wild blue eyes. And he was smiling, like he enjoyed stabbing me.” Jason shook his head in disbelief.
“He probably did,” Jesus muttered, and Ryder glanced at him.
“You know who did this?” Ryder asked.
Jesus motioned to the quickly fading “C” on Jason's chest. “That stands for ‘Connall.’ Michaela's father, and a class A psycho. He likes to play head games. And he likes to inflict pain.”
“The bastard did this just for fun?” Jason asked, his anger growing.
“The bastard could have gutted and killed you with that same swipe, so yeah, he was just playing. For now. Next time, he won't be.”
Ryder shot to his feet. “Next time? Are you saying he'll be back?”
“That's his MO. He must have been watching Michaela. He knows she's been here. He probably assumes she has a connection to someone in the building. Someone important to her. He'll use that connection to upset her and draw her into a confrontation.”
“Classic sociopathic behavior,” David offered.
“Definitely. He thinks he's smarter than us,” Maggie concurred.
“Glad I have your consensus. But this is Michaela's gig, not yours,” Jesus said.
Ryder pointed to Jason’s bloodstained shirt. “It's on my doorstep now, and I intend to do something about it.”
Seeing the determination on the other man's face, Jesus wouldn't argue. “I get it, Ryder. You've got a lot to protect now, but so do I. This guy wants Michaela gone. Six feet under. And I have no intention of letting that happen.”
Ryder pivoted on one heel to face the rest of the group. “Jason, I'll have the car brought around to take you home. Take tomorrow off. I'll arrange for you to have some company on the door when you get back.”
He whirled back around. “Call Michaela. Please,” Ryder told Jesus.
Jesus whipped out his cell phone and speed-dialed her, but it rang once and went straight to voicemail. He tried it a second time, with the same result. She was obviously intent on ignoring him. He fought back the jealousy that gnawed at his gut that she might be with Benjamin. He had left right after she did, and he didn’t trust the bastard as far as he could spit.
“I can't reach her. Maybe she's shut off her phone to get some rest.” He stared down at the phone, willing her to call him back, but it remained silent.
“Then you'll connect with her at home?” Ryder asked.
Jesus nodded. “I'll drop by before heading to the office.” Looking to Maggie and David, he said, “You guys should go home and get some rest.”
“You should take some of your own advice. Go get some rest, too,” Ryder said, then whipped out his cell and started making calls.
With that, Jesus nodded to Maggie and David and they trooped out, leaving Jason and Ryder in the lounge.
Out on the sidewalk, David leaned into Maggie and dropped a kiss on her temple. “Ready to go home?”
Jesus arched a brow at the show of affection, still unused to seeing it so openly. But then, they were on their own time, not the FBI’s.
“I'll see you two at the office later,” he said, and walked away toward Second Avenue to snag a cab home. He dialed Michaela again, but it went to voicemail once more.
He broke down and left a message. “Michaela, it's J. I need to speak with you about Connall. It's urgent.”
***
Michaela lay on Ben's sofa and held the cell phone above her face, staring at the accusing little red signal warning of missed messages and a voicemail.
Jesus.
It had taken all her willpower not to answer him the first time. And the second. By the third she had been vacillating even more, but distance from him right now was what she needed, to restore balance.
Balance she desperately needed in order to get back to the task of finding and killing Connall.
She tossed the cell phone onto the nearby coffee table and forced her eyes closed, but sleep refused to visit. Her mind was too busy processing all that had happened that night. And all it might mean, not only to her, but to Diana and Ryder.
A baby. Probably a dhampir, like Michaela.
And Diana was now a vampire.
A vampire who had fed from both an elder and a Slayer during her turning. Totally out of the ordinary, but Michaela had no idea what that would mean to Diana's transformation. It had happened so quickly, so suddenly, that Michaela feared for the other woman, unsure if the change had actually taken hold.
Only time would tell.
She got up from the couch, sleep impossible. She should go back to J's apartment and get her things. Leave him to the nice, orderly life he’d had before she intruded on it.
A dull ache blossomed in the middle of her chest. She sucked in a deep breath to drive it back, and walked to the windows of Ben’s apartment. Not as high up as Diana and Ryder's place, nor even J's condo, and nowhere near as grand. Instead of the wide-open views of the East River or the Narrows, only a tiny sliver of Central Park was visible through the skinny windows. In truth, they were almost like the arrow slits in an old-time castle. Possibly because Ben had set up this apartment in the unused turrets in one of the pricey celebrity-filled apartment buildings. Whoever had designed the building had likely had a castle in mind. They’d also likely not expected the tiny, cramped spaces to be used for anything other than maintenance or storage, but Ben had made it home somehow.
She stalked around the room, ducking beneath one angled turret area to another to peer down on the city below. Her gaze searched the streets, a powerful sense of anxiety brewing in her.
Connall was out there. Hunting. Killing. He was the reason she was here in New York. The one and only reason, she told herself.
She had sacrificed her soul to the Slayer Council to have the benefit of their powers and the resources to track down the monster who was her father.
Yet, now that she was so close to her goal, there was an emptiness inside her she couldn't explain.
An emptiness that hadn't been there when she was with Jesus.
But she wouldn't go back to him. Couldn't go back. She would lose too much of herself if she let whatever emotion she had for him grow to the kind of love she had seen on Ryder's face tonight. The kind of love that would sacrifice anything for the one he loved, even himself.
It was just too scary.
Funny thing for her to say. Without blinking, she had faced down the demons and monsters that were the stuff of human nightmares, and yet she was terrified of something most people wished to have.
Love.
Stiffening her spine, she snagged her jacket off the back of the sofa and yanked it on, the familiar weight of it and the weapons stashed in it welcoming her home.
Home.
She hadn't had one in so long. Not since her adoptive father had taken her in after her mother's death. He had been so caring and gentle with her, guiding her through her life with wisdom and understanding. Even when her vampire half had awakened during puberty, he had somehow handled it. Made her feel normal, up until the day she had left his house on her quest for vengeance.
She hadn't been back there in months. She kept away to avoid having her violent world spill into his peaceful one. But she still called him on occasion. Selfishly, she realized, when she needed his wisdom.
Like now.
With the push of a button, she was heading home again.
He answered immediately, concern in his voice. “Munchkin?” He always called her by his childhood nickname for her.
“Daddy. I'm sorry. I know it's really early.”
“It's okay, Michaela. Are you all right?” he asked first, as he always did, aware of the path she had chosen in life and its dangers.
“I'm fine,” she said, and rubbed at the ache in her chest that had suddenly grown so large it almost choked her. “I just needed to talk.”
“I'm here, baby. You know I'm always here for you.”
“I know,” she said, thinking of someone else who had always been there for her when she needed him. Regretting what she had done to him. To them.
“Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong,” her daddy urged.
And so she did.