Blood Song

take Matty, but since he’s laid up, Kevin’s coming instead.”

I couldn’t decide if I was upset that Bruno hadn’t thought to invite me. I mean, I don’t real y like

basebal that much and he real y was here on business, but —

Plus, there went my second choice for a backup—Kevin. But I kept my tone cheerful. “You don’t need

the cap, the Mets aren’t playing.”

“It’s my cap.” He said it like it should be self-evident. It wasn’t, but I wasn’t going to argue. This must

be one of those guy things.

“Fine, fine. I won’t wear it. I’l pick something up at the store and then bring your cap by the hospital

tomorrow morning.”

“Don’t bother. I’m checking out.”

“Bruno—,” I started to protest.

“Don’t say a word. Just don’t. I’ve already heard about it from my mother, my brother, and my uncle. I

can rest just as wel at a five-star hotel with al the amenities as in the freaking hospital, and I am not

missing the game.”

He probably could rest at the hotel. If only he would.

“Celia? Are you there?”

I’d been silent too long … again. I was having a hard time focusing this morning. Then again, I hadn’t

had any caffeine yet. Hurry up, Room Service!

“Yeah, I’m here. Just a little tired. And worried.”

“You’re the one who should get some more rest. You didn’t get back until after sunrise and you’re

already up. And you’ve had a hel uva time the past couple of days.” His voice was gentle, and it made

me smile. Bruno is an original tough-guy Italian. But he is also a sweetheart, my sweetheart. Wel , my

former sweetheart. But I’l always love him. No matter what. And while he was right about resting, I

wasn’t going to do it. I stil had a life-threatening emergency going on.

“In that case I won’t deliver the hat back to the hotel. Because if I do neither one of us wil rest.” I was

only partly teasing. I remembered yesterday’s kiss so clearly it made me shiver.

“How ’bout you bring it by the hotel pool? Say tomorrow, one thirty?” He suggested this with a hint of

laughter in his voice. “It’s nice and public. We should be safe.”

“I’l do that. You can buy me a margarita.”

“Make it a pitcher and you’ve got a deal.”

“Are you planning to get me drunk and take advantage of me?”

“Would I do such a thing?” He spoke in an exaggerated drawl that made me laugh. We were stil

laughing when we hung up.

I thought about who to take to the game most of the day—while I dumped half the vampire’s ashes

into the ocean and the other half at a designated dump spot on the river—and was stil thinking on it as

I drove out to Birchwoods for my doctor’s appointment.

Yes, doctor’s appointment. One of the names Gwen had given me was for a doctor at Birchwoods.

She’d said Dr. Scott had specifical y asked her to make time to fit me in.

Peachy. And while I knew it was important, that I real y needed to talk to somebody, I didn’t want it to

be a stranger. Besides, I hate shrink appointments. Yes, I did them. For years. Then I was done, and

glad for it. You can only get out of psychiatric treatment what you’re wil ing to put in. I know that. I also

knew that I’d needed the treatment then, and now. I’d been a patient of one of the best shrinks in the

business, and she’d gone pretty damned deep into some seriously painful and dark places with me. I

was grateful. But it hadn’t been easy on either of us. Who could blame me if I wasn’t anxious to repeat

the process?

On top of that, I looked utterly ridiculous. Dawna would have a stroke if she could see me. The only

things of Bruno’s that even came close to fitting me were a red T-shirt and a pair of oversized black

nylon basketbal shorts with a drawstring waist. The shirt wasn’t so bad, but the shorts hung past my

knees and looked damned sil y, particularly with the added touches of the denim jacket, bal cap, and

sneakers without socks.

I’d been too upset to notice before, but the outpatient treatment area shared an entrance with the

administration building. I hauled my oh-so-elegantly clad ass up the sunlit sidewalk as quick as I could

manage, huddling under the umbrel a I’d borrowed from the lab and feeling surly. I’d bought sunscreen

from the hotel gift shop, but it’d been a smal bottle and only SPF 15, which didn’t real y cut it with my

new pal or. If there was time before sundown, I was definitely going shopping for something decent to

wear, a replacement hat, and heavy-duty sunscreen. Until then, I decided to feign blithe indifference.

There was a different receptionist this morning. This one was just as attractive as the previous model

but younger. Her blond hair was darker than mine, exactly the color of honey, but with wel - applied

highlights. Her clothes were stunning and fit her wel . I didn’t want to know how much those designer

shoes had set her back.

She was also too polite to gawk at my appearance. She did blink rapidly, several times, looking at the

umbrel a as I col apsed it, as if she wasn’t quite sure what she was seeing was actual y in front of her.

“I’m here to see …” I dug in my jacket pocket, pul ing out the note I’d scribbled on hotel stationery. “Dr.

Greene.”

“Ah.” She smiled, her eyes lighting up with understanding. “Ms. Graves.” She reached beneath the

counter and pul ed out a clipboard and a thick stack of forms. “If you could please take a seat and fil

out these forms for us, Dr. Greene wil be with you soon.”

“Soon” is a relative term.

I’d been there long enough to get through the maze of paperwork and was scanning my second

magazine when a familiar voice brought my head snapping up.

“You bitch!” Cassandra Meadows charged at me, past her husband and bodyguards and heedless of

the other patients in the lobby. “How dare you!”

It was a big lobby, but I had barely enough time to stand before she was in front of me. She swung her

hand back, intending to slap me, but I caught her arm and blocked the blow before she could make

contact. If I hadn’t had control of my senses, I would have snapped it in two. As it was, she let out a little

wince.

“What the hel , Cassandra!”

The bodyguards stepped between us, and Jason pul ed his wife against him. She didn’t stop

struggling. She was just too furious. I only wished I knew why.

“What the hel is the matter with you?” I tried to talk to her between the twin wal s of muscle that had

interposed themselves between us. Creede and two others were fanned out around Jason.

“How dare you!” she repeated, her voice a venomous hiss.