Chapter 25

Connor took Mum home and Anissa went with an unconscious Stan back to the hospital. I was left to pick up the pieces at the office.

I looked around in despair before shoving the feeling down. Despair achieved nothing but atrophy; I'd feel better after I'd made inroads into this mess. I needed a shovel and a commercial bin not a few flimsy rubbish bags, but they were all I had so I started to work.

Connor was smarter. After he'd settled Mum, he came back with several commercial waste bags and a shovel. I held the bags as he shovelled broken ceiling tiles and computer pieces into them. We filled six bags and stacked the rest of the rubble – the broken counter and desks – against a wall. There was only one office chair that wasn't broken, the one that Mum had sat in to recover.

The only other thing that wasn't broken was the office phone. I stared at it: it should have been destroyed, too, but it had survived against all odds. In honour of Tom Hank's film Castaway, I dubbed it Wilson.

When we were done, we were in an empty room with a line of dented file cabinets, one chair and Wilson. Wouldn"t Gunnar, Sidnee and April be surprised?

The file cabinets, although they only looked a little dented, were actually totally fucked. The drawers had jammed and I had to use vampire strength to force them open. After that, I couldn't close them again. Excellent.

Connor used one of Gunnar's many pre-cut pieces of wood to board up the front door, so at least the office was secure even if it was in tatters. Luckily the side rooms, interview rooms and the jail were all untouched, though Gunnar's office was now the only functioning office space. Regardless, I felt like we were lucky that somewhere in Stan's affected brain he'd associated this place with safety and not gone somewhere public where people could have been hurt. This was all stuff; although it would be expensive to replace, no one was hurt. We really had been lucky.

Even with all our hard work, the main room looked shambolic. Connor pulled me down with him into the single remaining chair and we sat in the moonlight – Stan had destroyed all the lighting. He kissed my neck. ‘Don't worry. I've already informed the council and funds will be released to get this fixed. I've got Margrave ordering new furniture and computers. Anyway, it will give us a chance to update the system.'

Some of my stress dropped away. He was a godsend. ‘Thank you so much.'

‘You're welcome.'

The phone rang loudly. ‘At least Wilson is okay,' I said as I answered the call. It was someone complaining about a noise disturbance. I told them that we were short staffed and to use earplugs. Policing at its finest. I hung up.

‘Wilson?' Connor asked curiously.

‘You ever see that Tom Hanks' film Castaway?'

He grinned. ‘You named the phone after his volleyball?'

‘Yep. It was a real survivor.'

His grin widened. ‘Wilson dies in the end.'

‘Well, yeah, but Tom Hank's character was named Chuck and I think that would cause confusion. If I yelled "Chuck" in the office, Sidnee would start lobbing things at me.'

He burst out laughing.

‘You've got to think these things through,' I tapped my head. ‘No grass growing here.' I let my bout of whimsy fall away. ‘We should check on Sig and Stan.' I did want to see them but I was bone tired.

‘Yeah, but it's very late even for vampires.'

He was right. ‘I need to check on my mum, too.'

‘She was taking a shower and going to bed. You'll disturb her if you bother her now.'

I chewed my lip. ‘What about Fluffy and Shadow?'

‘Fed and also in bed.'

I melted against him. ‘Thank you so much, Connor.'

‘You're welcome, doe. I'm taking you home. You're exhausted, and to be honest we both need a shower.'

I looked down: my shirt was torn and I was covered in dust and sweat which had turned to mud in places. And I was tired to my toes. Braving the beast beyond the barrier seemed like a lifetime ago, but it was only a matter of hours. It really had been a long-ass day.

‘I hear you,' I sighed. ‘But I don't want to go home.' I didn't want to wake up to Mum's judgement though admittedly, bar one or two off comments, she hadn't been as bad as I'd expected.

‘My home,' Connor offered softly.

I looked at him. He smiled and I wrapped my arms around his neck. ‘Do I have to come back to this dump?' I whined.

‘Not for a good eight hours,' he promised.

‘Sounds like heaven.' I kissed him and felt his smile beneath my lips. ‘Let's blow this joint. That's what you Yanks say, right?'

He swept me into his arms and stood up in one smooth motion. I squealed, even though Mum had taught me that a lady shouldn't squeal because it was unbecoming. I decided right then and there that it was a stupid rule that was definitely meant to be broken when sexy vampire men were involved.

I looked at him and his eyes darkened as he looked back. I wanted food, a bath and Connor in that order. He needed to move faster – now and later – because I wasn't in the mood for slow. Some of the heat in my stomach must have reached my eyes because he hustled us out of the back door and into the car park.

He set me in the passenger seat, belted me in and turned on the heaters. The warmth, combined with the scent of him and the rocking of the truck, sent me straight to sleep. I'm a fabulous date.

I woke up in Connor's glorious bed – alone. I reached over to make sure: no, he wasn't there. I groaned and grabbed my phone from the nightstand to check the time. It was early evening and I had to go to work soon. At least I felt rested and mostly recovered from yesterday in my body, if not my mind. The more interaction I had with the beast beyond the barrier, the more scared I became. It was some sort of giant cat doused in shadows that acted like acid. Learning that had been more fodder for my nightmares.

And how was I going to save Fluffy? He wasn't cursed in the same way, but would the left-over azalea be enough to save him? Hopefully now that Anissa had broken the curse on the others, she'd help me with my boy.

I was about to get up when Connor appeared balancing a tray in his hands. I hurriedly pulled the covers back over me and sat up. ‘You brought me breakfast in bed?' No one had done that for me except my nana when I'd been ill.

Thinking about that stirred a lot of childhood memories. I was sick or injured a lot as a child and it was always Nana who looked after me, her blue eyes flashing with rage because she hated it when I got hurt.

I'd been a really clumsy kid, which was another reason I hadn't got many friends because I'd taken lots of time off school while I was healing. Only my excellent memory had kept me from falling behind.

Connor placed the tray on my lap and raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you going to share with the class?'

‘Just remembering some childhood stuff. I was a sickly, clumsy kid. Luckily I grew out of it, though I did get hit by a bus once. It's ridiculous – who gets hit by a bus?'

‘How did the tray make you remember that?'

‘My nana used to bring me breakfast in bed when I was sick, and one of the times was the bus thing.'

Connor was frowning. ‘Talk to me about the bus,' he said tightly.

I didn't understand why he was looking so upset because it had been years ago. I grabbed a piece of perfectly crisped bacon and nibbled on it, but a lurch in my stomach reminded me I needed to have blood before food. I took the glass, plugged my nose and downed it in a few swallows, then happily tucked into my bacon.

‘American bacon is so much better,' I said happily. ‘You have streaky bacon but in the UK we mainly eat back bacon. It's a lot meatier and not half as crispy.'

Connor's eyes were still intense. ‘The bus, Bunny.'

I rolled my eyes. ‘It's not a big deal. I was twelve. I was crossing the street in London. I'm not sure what distracted me – the bus sort of wiped that out of my memory.' He was listening intently. ‘Do you know those large red tour buses we get in London? Double deckers? Well, one of them came out of nowhere.'

I frowned as I tried to recall it. ‘It was weird though, because you really can't miss them,' I said slowly. ‘And they don't move fast because of the traffic, but I swear it wasn't there one minute and the next it was. Bam.' I winced as remembered pain flooded me and I absently rubbed my leg. ‘Luckily, it was a glancing blow, though it broke my left femur. I was in hospital for a while. I guess they brought me breakfast in bed, too.'

I picked up a slice of toast and bit into it. It was delicious and all of a sudden I was ravenous.

Connor's eyes narrowed. ‘It's odd that you missed seeing a bus because you're very aware of your surroundings.'

I shrugged. ‘Yeah, maybe. I was probably thinking about something and not paying attention. My memory is weirdly hazy about the whole thing. I guess it was the pain – I remember the pain.'

‘What else? You said you were sick and injured a lot?'

‘The usual childhood things – colds, flu, food poisoning, measles. I fell out of a swing and broke my arm. I tripped on a log in the back garden and rolled down a hill and fell into the pond. I nearly drowned that time.' I brightened. ‘One time there was even an escaped lion.'

His jaw clenched. ‘A lion?'

‘One of our posher neighbours had exotic animals in a private menagerie. They had an African lion that got loose and onto our property. I was playing in the garden and it scared me so badly I peed my pants. It stalked towards me growling and I thought I was a goner, but then it went away, thank God.'

Connor licked his lips. ‘Bunny, honey, those weren't normal childhood problems.'

I shrugged. ‘I had a privileged childhood. It came with some weirder problems, I guess.'

‘Who was watching you when you were growing up? Who was supposed to keep you safe?'

‘The staff – nannies and tutors. I had a lot of free time to play, too.'

He shook his head. ‘Your parents should have taken better care of you.' Anger was crackling on his skin and he was struggling to keep calm. He blew out a breath then studied me intensely. I knew that look: he was weighing something up.

‘What? Tell me,' I insisted.

His frown deepened and he hesitated for a second before taking my hand. ‘Bunny, I've heard tales from the supernat community. Most magic users manifest their magic when they're afraid.'

A cold chill ran down my spine and I swallowed hard. ‘You think these events were manufactured to get my magic to manifest?'

‘Two strong witches expect a strong witch daughter.'

‘And they got a ped,' I whispered.

‘They got you,' he snarled. ‘And they should have been fucking grateful!'

‘But they weren't.' The words were pulled from me and my heart started breaking all over again. Mum hadn't told me that she was a witch and that had hurt, but this…? They'd allowed me to get injured. How could any parent do that? Bewildered, I looked at Connor. ‘How could they?'

‘It's conjecture…'

‘It is, but it's solid. The wild lion … it was a shifter, wasn't it?'

He nodded. ‘I think so. That cinched it for me because it didn't attack you, it just scared you shitless.'

I didn't know what to say, so I did what any good Barrington did: I shoved it deep in a box to deal with another day. ‘I need to go to work.'

‘Bunny…'

‘Give me time, Connor. I need to process this.' I paused. ‘Don't talk to my mother about it, not until I've had a chance to speak to her, okay?'

‘I wouldn't trust myself around her right now. I'd rip her head off.'

I shot him a bittersweet smile. ‘You say the nicest things.'