“We had to draw him out, find out anything we could,” he said. “And you were stellar.” He pulled out a small box and handed it to her.
She held it in her hands, hefted its weight. She knew what it was and set it aside. Her eyes settled on staring at her feet.
“You worked very hard for that. What’s more, you deserve it.”
“I feel as though I’m being paid off.”
“Detective Coyle, you’ll need a front if you’re going to become a Templar. Working for a local police department is perfect. You’ll be a detective for them and for us.”
“And why would I want to join the Templars?”
“Because we know where he was hiding. And we want you to find him for us—and for you. It will take some time, but we’re confident you can find him.”
“I’ll join, but only if it’s the two of us.”
The look in his eye became defiant. “Coyle. She’s a loose cannon.”
“And yet the pair of us managed to survive against insurmountable odds, and together we defeated the villain.”
Treece huffed and crossed his arms.
“Fang’s not meant to be controlled, you found that out the hard way. She’s meant to be part of a team, meant to be respected the way any other creature in God’s green earth deserves.”
Treece stepped to the window and pushed aside the curtains.
“We made a deal,” Coyle said. “I help her find Moreci and she helps me find Ronan. I can’t find him without her. And I won’t.”
He stepped away from the window and sighed. “A seasoned professional, such as Agent Fang, and a novice, such as yourself did manage to pull off a frightful event. I’ll speak to the Templar Committee on your behalf and ensure she won’t be harmed. But I do warn you, Coyle, she is quite dangerous and there’s no telling how far you can trust her.”
He gave her a small nod and left.
She stared at the box before glancing outside the window. The green hills disappeared into plumes of fog. Bells of a passing ship rang in the distance. If she squinted, she would be able to see people milling about through the streets, ogreks working on the docks, gnomes with insane amounts of colored hair, busy as bees. People enjoying what they did best.
She pushed herself up and reached for the box.
The End
Epilogue
May, 1893
The locomotive Pegasus, en route to Chicago
Coyle sat in one of the lounge cars, studying a small herd of wild horses as they galloped along the flat scrub of Wyoming, their wild manes flying. Sunlight glimmered off their shoulders. Coyle wondered where they were headed. Did they run out of necessity? Were they pushed away by predators? Or were they running just because they could? God designed them that way of course.
And was she hurtling toward Chicago, the last known location of Ronan because God designed her this way? All this time, she wasn’t sure if He was even listening. And yet, she made it out alive and stopped Moreci—with the help of Fang. She couldn’t deny the prayers of a righteous person were effective. But, she wasn’t righteous. Or was she? Was chasing Ronan out of duty to the Templars, her own sense of justice, or something else?
Her eyes refocused. The window glass reflected the outline of someone behind her. Female, tall, thin. Poised.
“Good afternoon, Fang,” Coyle said. “Lovely outside.”
There was a pause as if the vampire were considering the truth of the suggestion. “Suppose so,” Fang said. “Mind if I join you?”
“Please,” Coyle said. “Tea?”
“Coffee for me.”
Coyle signed to Gibby, who was seated nearby and the girl went to find a fresh pot. Fang sat without a sound. Both set their eyes to the passing scenery. The train clicked its rhythmic strokes as they sat in comfortable silence.
After a few moments, Gibby arrived with a cup and saucer and poured coffee. Coyle glanced at her and smiled. The young woman smiled back.
<Anything else?> Gibby asked. Coyle shook her head, and Gibby took her seat.
Fang frowned at Coyle.
“She said she wants to stay by my side and be my assistant,” Coyle said. “It’s very nice of her.”
“First it was GEM, and now it’s this girl that wants to stay with you.”
“No,” Coyle smiled. “You were first, remember?”
A ghost of a smile crossed Fang’s lips.
“Cream or sugar?” Coyle motioned to the small pots.
“I like my coffee like my dreams,” Fang said. “Black and full of bitterness.” There was a pause before they both laughed.
“I take it you’re fully recovered?” Fang asked.
“Muscles are still quite sore. I take it you’re fully recovered?”
Fang answered with a slow nod.
“Bodies kept piling up in the streets.” Coyle lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “I was worried there was another... of your kind, until we checked their records. All of them were wanted murderers and rapists. The police paid it no mind, but the Templars began to suspect you.”
“I’m always a suspect,” Fang said. She blew on her coffee and kept her eyes outside. Silence settled between them. The train tracks clicked and clacked.
The vampire turned and met Coyle’s eyes. “There is something refreshing about you.”
“Trust?” Coyle said.
She nodded. “Trust. Professionalism. The persistence of a bloodhound.” They shared a smile. “Admirable qualities.”
“I could say the same about you, Fang,” Coyle said. “And I could add a few more. I would much rather be working with you than against you.”
“Same,” Fang said.
“I’ve never worked with a vampire. Never even known one. You were remarkable through our whole ordeal. You wanted to do the right thing, and you succeeded.”
“I know who I am, but I still have a heart, Coyle,” Fang said.
“And that was my fault for being judgmental. I find it both a blessing and a curse, my talent for making assumptions within a few seconds of meeting people.”
Fang shrugged. “We all have our issues, don’t we?”
Coyle nodded and sipped her tea. “You enjoy stabbing people,” she said.
Fang nodded. “And you enjoy marking people before you know them.”
Coyle shrugged. “I’m right.” She took another sip.
