Page 67 of Little Wing
Detective Morello said very little on the drive to the Fairhaven police department. Because he asked me to sit in the front seat, I assumed I wasn’t going to be arrested. At least not at that moment.
I had never set foot in any police department before, but this one was buzzing with motion, noise, and the aroma of so much blood. Both human and vampire. I’ve heard of departments blending like that, though I thought that was reserved for larger cities. I certainly never expected to see it in person. When we first walked in, every desk was occupied and cluttered with loose paper, folders, and binders. Was there really that much crime in Fairhaven to warrant all that paperwork? My focus was trained on my surroundings to avoid the penetrative gazes of those around me. My brother’s arrest was no secret; he was wanted and most certainly detested for his crimes against humans. But were those feelings extended to me as well?
The detective led me away from the officers with wandering eyes, bringing me down a short hall to a small room where he offered me a seat at the table. I registered how much quieter it was in there the moment the door closed. When I took my seat, he slipped off his jacket and hung it on the seat across from me.
“I’ll be right with you, Ms. Everett. I’ll just grab us something to drink and we can begin,” he explained before stepping back out into the hall.
Before the door even closed, I began to look around. The room was sterile, metallic, and void of warmth. To my right, there was a mirror that I knew had people watching me from the other side, safe in their anonymity. The sound of their pulse blared in my ears like a cacophonous song. I wondered if their hearts raced because they feared me, or if they feared for me. Despite that, my breathing remained steady. Perhaps it was because I imagined myself in this position so many times over the last century that I could focus on other things like feeling glad that Silas chose to meet up with me later rather than taking me to work. I always knew this very moment would occur eventually. I just didn’t want Silas to continue seeing me approached by the police. I didn’t want him to worry, especially if there really was nothing that could be done for me.
As I waited, I closed my eyes, trying to listen past the door that kept much of the speech beyond muffled. I assumed as much—with vampires around, they had to find a way to maintain some semblance of privacy.
“Alright—” The door opened, letting in a sudden wave of the chatter just feet beyond us. Detective Morello stepped back inside with a folder under his arm and two cans of the synthetic blood I had seen advertised. The ridiculous jingle that tap-danced on my brain threatened an encore. He set the can down in front of me and moved to the other side of the table to take his seat. “Berry flavor. Sorry, it’s all we have at the moment,” he said with a weary smile.
“Amazing how they seem to make it taste like anything other than the real thing,” I uttered, poking at the metal can.
“So,” the detective cleared his throat and leaned his back against the hard chair.
“Am I under arrest?” I finally asked. The question leapt past my lips, begging for some clarity. I would accept whatever fate had in store for me, but I just needed to know what direction this was heading in.
His thin lips pressed tightly into a frown; the same one I had recalled seeing as he left me in my apartment weeks ago. “I just have a few questions about your relationship with Mr. Everett. We spoke to him and he obviously identified you as his sister and also his…”
“Spawn, kin, whatever—he did this to me,” I barked, my voice louder than I anticipated. Even as my heart began to race, I fought to keep my voice steady, uttering the words that still stung after centuries. “He turned me.”
Rubbing his head, I watched as the detective’s hands continued to settle over the intricate ink he had there. “You are not under arrest, Ms. Everett. Believe it or not, I am intent on trying to help you. I’ve dug deep into your whereabouts these last hundred years, because I know Fairhaven has not always been your home.”
My silence allowed for him to slide a manila folder across the metal table. He opened it up and leaned back in his chair. Without leaning too far forward, I caught a glimpse of my name printed at the very top.
“Lotus Everett, born in Scotland to Rupert and Elaine Everett. Settled in the Carolinas along with a community of other Scots who had come over. Luca Everett is your twin brother who perished during a plague not at the hand of disease, but a vampire.”
My eyes would have bulged out of their sockets had I not been seated before a detective, but I tried to remain as stoic as possible. Though I knew he was watching me swallow painfully. Noticing this, he opened the can in front of him and slid it across the table to me.The fragrance of artificial berries was pungent, but I brought the can to my lips in an effort to draw out the inevitable.
“I’m not doing this to scare you, Ms. Everett. I am doing this to tell you I already know whatever you think is a big secret. Between what I could find and what your brother willingly gave up, I hope you can believe me that I am not here to lock you up. I am here to help.”
“Help?” I looked up from the can of synthetic blood and squinted. He mentioned that before, but was he being serious? Or did I mishear him twice already in this tiny room? “But why?”
“Because you were abused, and Luca Everett deserves to be punished.”
He spoke plainly, yet there it was—the acknowledgment that what I had gone through was not my doing, not all of it at least. I set the can down and sat up straight. “What did you say?”
Detective Morello rubbed his forehead with his forearm then pulled out a few sheets that he set out in front of me. They were images of a man I had not seen in over a century. My eyes watered instantly as I had no photographs of him to look back on. Everything I had of him remained as part of a memory I fought to keep from fading.
“Wesley…” Detective Morello began to say.
“Wesley Scott,” I uttered. Tears slid down my cheeks without any attempt to stop them. “This is Wesley Scott.”
The man across from me exhaled slowly and leaned forward, pulling an image of the barn that sealed the fate of the first man I ever loved.
There was silence in the room that left the air feeling thick. I thought I was going to be sick. That barn proved they knew everything. And yet I was not in handcuffs like Luca.
My fingertips gently brushed over Wesley’s photo before looking at the one beside it of the barn. I could still recall my overgrown nailsdigging deeper into his skin to hold him down, no matter how hard I tried to live in the happier memories. “Wesley never knew what I was. My brother did not know of our relationship for a long time until he came back early from a hunt to discover us…” I paused, turning the can in front of me absentmindedly. “In a state of undress.”
Detective Morello remained unchanged in his expression, urging me to continue.
“I always believed it was his own jealousy that forced him to deprive me of the only joy I felt since he destroyed my life.” I looked up at the detective and then back down at the additional papers he had pulled out. Out of all the memories that haunted me, the barn remained the most vivid. The smell of Wesley’s blood in the air; the feel of the splinters on my tongue as I licked the floor, not wanting to waste a drop. How could I be free of this torment?
“Please take your time,” the detective spoke calmly.
There was no push for me to say anything, but seeing Wesley’s picture, the place I once called home… I wanted to tell my story, perhaps to someone who could do something about it. Someone who truly appeared interested in doing the right thing. Silas believed me and he stood strong at my side, so maybe Detective Morello believed me, too? “He locked me in there for a month. No blood. No companionship. I believed that he left me to finally wither and die, truly die.” My hand settled on my throat, the burning like a phantom pain fluttered against my skin. “But it was much worse.”
