Page 76 of Red Rooster

“Breathe in, breathe out,” Lanny said, hand still rubbing circles.

Just as his throat was closing up, and his vision was nothing but spots, logic won out and Jamie dragged in a gulp of air. He made an awful choking sound, and started to cough.

Lanny gave him a thump. “There. Alright, there you go.”

“How are you so calm?” Jamie gasped, head tipping back so he could look up at the man. “How are you just – just accepting this?”

Lanny shrugged. “I dunno. I come from a big, crazy family. When someone fucks up, you all pitch in and help them. Trina’s like family. So.” Another shrug. “It’s just what I gotta do.”

“And you’re just okay with the being a vampire part?”

“No, not really. Beats dying, though.”

Jamie lifted his brows, asking.

“Docs only gave me about six months.” Lanny glanced away and did one of those tough-guy, I-don’t-have-emotions sniffs. “If drinking a little blood’s what I gotta do, then that’s not so bad, I guess.”

Jamie took a few deep breaths. “What if I didn’t want to go? To Buffalo? And then to Virginia?”

Lanny gave him a sharp look, voice even when he said, “You can stay here.”

His chest was tightening again. “My whole life all I wanted was to go to art school. I’m only a semester from graduating!”

“You could probably get a new identity and re-enroll.”

“I don’t want to start over. I – had accomplished things! I don’t…and that’s gone! All of it! I…”

Lanny sighed and squatted down in front of him, gaze serious, but not unkind. “Kid, listen to me. When I was your age, I was the best fucking heavyweight boxer in this city. I was abeast. I was going places. And then.” He held up his right hand. Under the knuckles misshapen from pounding the hell out of bags and faces alike lingered old, white scars, thin and precise. They followed the bones of his hand, all the way down to his wrist. “My big rival shattered my hand to pieces in a bar fight.” His mouth twisted, the memories obviously painful even now. “It took three surgeries to get me so I could hold a fork again. Another one before I could write with this hand.

“I didn’t become a cop because I had a hero complex, some kinda noble idea of keeping my city safe.” He sneered, a quick Elvis curl of his lip. Then sobered. “I was qualified. It was something to do to fill the time. And eventually I found out I was pretty good at it, and it wasn’t so bad.”

He offered a lopsided smile. “So this is you getting your hand ruined and figuring out what you’re gonna do after. You’re not in art school anymore. You can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Well, I mean, don’t kill anybody. I’d have to arrest you, then.”

Jamie snorted because he couldn’t bring himself to laugh. “What would you do, if you were me?”

Lanny lifted his brows, cocked his head the other way. “Well. I’m going to Buffalo.”

Jamie blew out a long, slow breath, and forced his thoughts to slow, considering his options – meager as they were. He could do as Lanny suggested and get a fake ID – there were people who made those – so that he could start over; reinvent himself, re-enroll. Or he could go somewhere new and start over there; new name, new identity, no longer the weak, asthmatic boy who needed so many sick days. He could…

It dawned on him slowly, then, that he could do any damn thing he wanted to. And might get the chance to, if being a vampire truly meant being immortal. Nikita and Sasha looked like they were still in their twenties, and had been alive for over a hundred years at this point.

“You don’t have to come with us,” Lanny said, standing and extending a hand, “but you’re welcome to.”

Jamie considered it a long moment…and then took his hand.

~*~

Trina had one more thing she wanted to do before she left.

The shadows lay in long stripes on the sidewalk, the sunlight golden and slanted through the windows of the coffeeshop when Harvey pushed through the door and scanned the tables. Trina gave a little wave and steeled herself for the conversation ahead as the ME approached.

When Harvey reached the table, she stood beside it a moment, arms folded, hip cocked, expression tight. She was pissed, and Trina didn’t blame her. “You understand you’re probably going to get benched, right? The captain’s going to bump you down to Cold Cases.”

“If it happens, it happens,” Trina said. “I’ll accept the consequences of my actions.”