Page 85 of White Raven (Nevermore Duet #2)

“Leave it, Gloves,” Foley rasped. It sounded wet and fevered. “I’m as much a monster as I ever wanna be.”

Tears spilled over her eyes, and raced down cheeks that no longer had the smoothness of dense fur. Her claws retracted, and she leaned over him, taking the side of his face in her other hand. “You’ve never been a monster, sir.”

He struggled for breath, tears filling his own eyes as he took in every inch of her face. “Looks like I’ll be retiring…after all,” he smiled, grimly.

Rhaena gripped his hand and shook her head. “No. You’re gonna be fine. You’re staying. We’re a pack.”

“You gotta take the torch, Gloves. This life was never meant for me. You’ve got a pack of your own. You’ve…always been a born leader. So, lead ‘em. Lead our pack.”

She didn’t think her heart could break this hard. A sob tore from her throat, and Brandon knelt next to her. “You can’t—you can’t go, Malcolm.”

“Kane…” he gurgled. “Let him go…I told you…I told you he ain’t the one.” He met eyes with Brandon, who smirked sadly when Foley pressed his thumb over the diamond on her finger. “You got the best, Jen—Jenkins…take care of our girl.”

“With my life, sir…” Brandon choked.

“Find your mo—mother…find Sykes. You’re an al—” his chest sputtered, and he coughed, blood spewing from his mouth. Rhaena cried softly, shushing him, as he struggled for one last shallow breath…

And the world went silent.

Her heart shattered.

His hand went slack in hers.

She couldn’t tear her eyes from her captain’s as he gazed up at the ceiling in this shitty apartment—lifeless and unseeing. It was a slap in his face. After war. After the endless trials of being a cop. A partner. A leader. A friend…

A father.

Rhaena slapped her palms to his chest, pumping mindlessly, and growling curses under her breath.

“Come on,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

She put more force behind it, ignoring Brandon’s hand on her shoulder.

“Come on!” Tears flowed faster, and more blood freed itself from his gunshot wound, flooding over her fingers.

“Goddammit! Come on! ” She sobbed, as Brandon softly pulled her away, pleading with her to let him go.

Foster stood quietly next to Wren and Brent, who watched on tearfully…

Foster raised a hand to her forehead in salute.

Brandon held her to his chest, rocking her back and forth among the dozens of bodies on the floor.

And Rhaena’s heartbroken screams echoed down the hallway of her building.

Nearly thirty bodies were counted as Foster signed off with the fire department, and officers from the 12th precinct, permitting only the lower floor residents to return to their homes.

All agreed to keep the incident silent until she gave them answers, at the announcement of their captain’s death.

Foster had promised them his body to be taken uptown under the condition that the reporters crowding the outside of the building not get a single image of a body bag.

Some of the officers were struggling to rein in their emotion—Blakely being one of them—as several, including Foster, gathered around the gurney, blocking sight of him as they moved him into the coroner’s van. It was the least she could do for him.

“This case is considered classified until further notice,” she said, sadly.

“I have a team on their way. If you wanna honor your captain…tight lips. Do we all understand each other?” The officers nodded silently, some of them wiping their noses.

“I understand that I’m not well-liked around here…

but you all have my deepest sympathy. He was a good man. ”

Cameras flashed from a distance, and a few of the officers went after the source, daring them to dishonor their fallen comrade.

Foster tapped the back of the van, and it started to pull off.

She watched it head down the street, a few patrol cars following behind it with their lights on.

Her chest felt heavy. Blakely stepped up to her side as the van disappeared from view.

“Northwood? Jenkins?” Blakely asked, hoarsely.

“They’re fine. Shaken, but fine.”

Northwood was anything but fine as Foster made her way back into the obliterated apartment. She stood quietly at the window, staring out of it with her arms crossed around herself, as the others gathered corpses and dragged them into the kitchen. Jenkins offered a solemn nod as Foster approached.

“How are we gonna explain all this?” he asked. His voice was rough with exhaustion, and grief.

“You won’t,” she said, smiling softly. “My team will be here in a few hours. We’ll get this cleaned up and buried. The mess, and the…mess.”

“And Foley? How do you intend to explain that away?”

Foster shook her head and sighed deeply. “That gunshot wound was the reason he died. As far as we’re concerned, he fell in the line of duty. It’ll be explained to everyone else like that. His report will be redacted the same way his partner’s was.”

Rhaena turned from the window. “People should know,” she choked. “They should know why he really fell. It’s bad enough my captain died in this place. It’s shitting on his memory to lie about his death.”

“Northwood…you and I both know why they can’t. I know you don’t particularly care for me, but it’s my job to keep the lid on your existence…and theirs .” She pointed with a thumb to where Vintorri, and Stratford were still silently stacking vampire bodies.

“There’s no honor in this. That coven needs to pay . They need to fucking pay for what they’ve done,” Rhaena growled.

The pink-haired girl spoke up from where she stood frozen against the wall. Foster couldn’t even remember her name. “But it was my fault,” she admitted, almost in a whisper. “It was that missed shot that killed that man. I murdered a cop .”

It was a surprise to see softness in Northwood’s eyes as she strode across the apartment and laid a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “You didn’t murder anyone. You did what you could. Captain Foley would have likely died anyway.”

It was a lie, and they both knew it. There was a decent chance that the bite may have turned Foley. Or poison him. Foley had been banking on his heart stopping before the venom could do its worst. He didn’t want to be a wolf…let alone something even more unpredictable.

“What do we do with the bodies?” Stratford asked, wiping his hands uselessly on his blood-soaked jeans.

“Save a few that aren’t…dismembered. We’ll try to spin it as a gang attack. There were too many gunshots up here to convince the public of anything else.”

“This is so fucked up,” Vintorri breathed, Stratford pulling her close to him. “Where’s the justice in all this?”

It was the lawyer that had her full respect after that.

When he swallowed, and looked between them all and said, “There’s law…

and there’s order . These parasites might be above the law…

but we know one that is the law. His future wife is one of the strongest people I know.

Even they know what has to be done to keep the order.

The justice lies with the ones that still wanna do some good in a shitty situation.

We’ve gotta help them do that. Foster’s right.

The world can’t know. Captain Foley knew that too.

That’s why we’re all still free. He fought for it in service, and he died for it the same way.

We honor Foley by keeping the order…and continuing to practice law. Protecting the people .”