As Marissa’s brows jumped in surprise, the female murmured, “Are you sure?”
Mary went into everything, including what Bitty had said about her mom telling her to lie about her age, and the visit to the grave site and the supermarket.
Marissa frowned. “You took her to your mother’s grave?”
“She wanted to see it. She asked to. Her treatment is going to have to involve more than just sitting in a chair talking. She’s incredibly intelligent, but she’s led a life that has been so remote, so full of violence that if she’s got any hope of getting through her grieving in one piece and transitioning into the world, she’s going to need exposure.”
“There are group field trips to accomplish things like that.”
“She’d never been to a supermarket before.” As Marissa recoiled, Mary nodded. “She didn’t know what automatic doors were. She’d never seen downtown. She didn’t tell me at the time, but when Rhage and I took her for ice cream last night? She’d never been in a restaurant or a café before.”
“I had no idea.”
“No one did.” Mary looked at the thirty-foot-long dining room table with all its finery. “She and her mother kept quiet because they were afraid. And the thing is, I’m worried about Bitty’s health. I know that she had treatment at Havers’s for that broken leg, and there was a work-up at that point. But that was a while ago. I want someone to take a look at her sometime soon, and I want to bring her to the clinic here, not to Havers’s.”
As Marissa started to protest, Mary put her hand up. “Hear me out. Her mother just died there. You think she needs to head back to that facility anytime soon? And yes, it can wait a month or two, but you’ve seen how frail she is. Even if you assume vampires are under-developed compared to humans of similar age until the change, she’s alarmingly small. Ehlena has a great background with young vampires, Doc Jane has a perfect bedside manner, and we can easily bring Bitty into the training center, do the work-up there, and take her out again as soon as it’s over.”
Marissa fiddled with her fork. “I can see the logic.”
“We can even do it tomorrow night if Doc Jane has some time. We’re taking Bitty to dinner with us.”
“You and Rhage?”
“It’s just like the ice cream trip. She really likes him.” Mary smiled. “She calls him a big friendly dog.”
Marissa’s frown did not inspire confidence. And neither did the period of silence that was filled with talk from other people as folks filed into the room in pairs and small groups.
“Marissa. I know what I’m doing here. And more to the point, the proof that I’m on the right track with her is the fact that she’s finally opening up. She’s been with us for how long?”
“Look, I’m not qualified to tell you how to do your job—and I guess that’s my problem. I’m a manager, I make the trains run on time. I do not have a master’s in social work—so I’d like to talk to some of the others. You’re very good at your job, and I can’t argue with the results, especially in Bitty’s case. But I don’t want you to get in over your head—and I’m a little worried about that.”
“How so?” Mary put her hands up. “I admit I might have treated the situation with her mother’s passing in a different way if I’d known—”
“You’re taking an orphan out for ice cream. To your mother’s grave site. To dinner with your mate. You don’t think there’s a possibility that you’re doing this for reasons that are personal in nature?”
* * *
“Lemme see. Come on, lemme see.”
Out in front of the mansion, Rhage elbowed Butch’s body to the side so he could check out what was in the back of the Hummer. When he got a gander at the display of hardware, he laughed under his breath.
“Not bad.” He picked up one of the Glock autoloaders out of its egg-carton padding and ran a check on it, popping out the clip, pumping the trigger, assessing the weight and sight. “How many did you get?”
V popped a second steel briefcase. “There are another eight in here. Sixteen total.”
“What was the price?” Butch demanded as he snagged another weapon and put it through the same workout.
“Ten thousand.” V opened a black nylon duffel and showed off the boxes of ammo. “There’s no discount on them, but there are also no numbers, and we didn’t have to worry about dealing with legit human channels.”
Rhage nodded. “Fritz has got to be on some kind of watch list by now.”
“What else can we get from them?” Butch asked as he palmed up a third, the sound of metal-on-metal rising from his quick hands.
“Like they have a catalog or some shit?” V shrugged. “I’m thinking ask and ye shall receive.”
“Can we BOGO some rocket launchers?” Rhage asked. “Or, I’m telling you, we could use some anti-aircraft guns.”
Butch punched Rhage’s biceps. “If he gets anti-aircraft, I want a cannon.”
“You two are a pair of fuck sticks, you know that?”
Rhage took the duffel with the ammo, and Butch took the two suitcases so V could lock up and light up. They were about halfway across the cobblestones when V hesitated. Wobbled. Shook his head.
“What’s doing?” Butch asked.
“Nothing.” The brother kept going, taking the stone steps two at a time and opening the vestibule’s door. As he put his puss in the security camera, he muttered, “Just hungry.”
Mary went into everything, including what Bitty had said about her mom telling her to lie about her age, and the visit to the grave site and the supermarket.
Marissa frowned. “You took her to your mother’s grave?”
“She wanted to see it. She asked to. Her treatment is going to have to involve more than just sitting in a chair talking. She’s incredibly intelligent, but she’s led a life that has been so remote, so full of violence that if she’s got any hope of getting through her grieving in one piece and transitioning into the world, she’s going to need exposure.”
“There are group field trips to accomplish things like that.”
“She’d never been to a supermarket before.” As Marissa recoiled, Mary nodded. “She didn’t know what automatic doors were. She’d never seen downtown. She didn’t tell me at the time, but when Rhage and I took her for ice cream last night? She’d never been in a restaurant or a café before.”
“I had no idea.”
“No one did.” Mary looked at the thirty-foot-long dining room table with all its finery. “She and her mother kept quiet because they were afraid. And the thing is, I’m worried about Bitty’s health. I know that she had treatment at Havers’s for that broken leg, and there was a work-up at that point. But that was a while ago. I want someone to take a look at her sometime soon, and I want to bring her to the clinic here, not to Havers’s.”
As Marissa started to protest, Mary put her hand up. “Hear me out. Her mother just died there. You think she needs to head back to that facility anytime soon? And yes, it can wait a month or two, but you’ve seen how frail she is. Even if you assume vampires are under-developed compared to humans of similar age until the change, she’s alarmingly small. Ehlena has a great background with young vampires, Doc Jane has a perfect bedside manner, and we can easily bring Bitty into the training center, do the work-up there, and take her out again as soon as it’s over.”
Marissa fiddled with her fork. “I can see the logic.”
“We can even do it tomorrow night if Doc Jane has some time. We’re taking Bitty to dinner with us.”
“You and Rhage?”
“It’s just like the ice cream trip. She really likes him.” Mary smiled. “She calls him a big friendly dog.”
Marissa’s frown did not inspire confidence. And neither did the period of silence that was filled with talk from other people as folks filed into the room in pairs and small groups.
“Marissa. I know what I’m doing here. And more to the point, the proof that I’m on the right track with her is the fact that she’s finally opening up. She’s been with us for how long?”
“Look, I’m not qualified to tell you how to do your job—and I guess that’s my problem. I’m a manager, I make the trains run on time. I do not have a master’s in social work—so I’d like to talk to some of the others. You’re very good at your job, and I can’t argue with the results, especially in Bitty’s case. But I don’t want you to get in over your head—and I’m a little worried about that.”
“How so?” Mary put her hands up. “I admit I might have treated the situation with her mother’s passing in a different way if I’d known—”
“You’re taking an orphan out for ice cream. To your mother’s grave site. To dinner with your mate. You don’t think there’s a possibility that you’re doing this for reasons that are personal in nature?”
* * *
“Lemme see. Come on, lemme see.”
Out in front of the mansion, Rhage elbowed Butch’s body to the side so he could check out what was in the back of the Hummer. When he got a gander at the display of hardware, he laughed under his breath.
“Not bad.” He picked up one of the Glock autoloaders out of its egg-carton padding and ran a check on it, popping out the clip, pumping the trigger, assessing the weight and sight. “How many did you get?”
V popped a second steel briefcase. “There are another eight in here. Sixteen total.”
“What was the price?” Butch demanded as he snagged another weapon and put it through the same workout.
“Ten thousand.” V opened a black nylon duffel and showed off the boxes of ammo. “There’s no discount on them, but there are also no numbers, and we didn’t have to worry about dealing with legit human channels.”
Rhage nodded. “Fritz has got to be on some kind of watch list by now.”
“What else can we get from them?” Butch asked as he palmed up a third, the sound of metal-on-metal rising from his quick hands.
“Like they have a catalog or some shit?” V shrugged. “I’m thinking ask and ye shall receive.”
“Can we BOGO some rocket launchers?” Rhage asked. “Or, I’m telling you, we could use some anti-aircraft guns.”
Butch punched Rhage’s biceps. “If he gets anti-aircraft, I want a cannon.”
“You two are a pair of fuck sticks, you know that?”
Rhage took the duffel with the ammo, and Butch took the two suitcases so V could lock up and light up. They were about halfway across the cobblestones when V hesitated. Wobbled. Shook his head.
“What’s doing?” Butch asked.
“Nothing.” The brother kept going, taking the stone steps two at a time and opening the vestibule’s door. As he put his puss in the security camera, he muttered, “Just hungry.”
