not contacted them, because they hadn’t known exactly who to call. “I wasn’t aware the hospital had called anyone. Are you her attorney?”
“Pria is my stepsister, but we are close,” Keirc replied. “I can assure you, her desires are as I have told you. Will the police department need to speak with her, do you think?”
For a fraction of a second, Joe thought he saw Keirc’s palm up near his face, but when he blinked, he saw the man’s hands at his sides. “The district attorney’s office…,” he said, struggling for a moment to recall the question.
“I see,” Keirc said. “She will be with us for a few days. I think I can convince her to stay with us that long, before she insists on returning to her business. If you need to reach her, leave a message at the Maidenheart Bakery. Pria is the owner.”
The sound of a cell phone interrupted the conversation. Monroe pulled the phone from his jacket to answer.
“Miri and Pria are in the car,” Monroe advised Keirc, ending the call. He shook Joe’s hand quickly, murmuring, “Thanks,” before turning to leave.
As the men left, Joe wondered about the odd conversation. A family that appeared from nowhere to take a woman with a gunshot wound home from a hospital that hadn’t officially discharged her. A beautiful victim who couldn’t get out of the hospital fast enough. A stepbrother who seemed to be doing the talking for her and nobody seemed to have any desire to hang the cop who’d shot her. And how in the hell had the women gotten out of the ER so fast? Without him seeing them?
Joe was still thinking about Pria as he headed through the hospital’s exit to his car. Jogging for the parking lot, he walked directly into Georgia Hudsis, TV anchor and professional pain in the ass. Seeing him, she whipped a hand through her blond bob, pulled her dark glasses off and moved in like the predator she was.
“Hey, gorgeous, “she breathed, standing a little too close. “Miss me?”
“Not really, Georgia, but how are you anyway?” Joe lifted a hand toward the reporter’s cameraman, who was already hoisting the large camera to his shoulder to start shooting in Joe’s direction. “No pictures,” he said firmly.
“You look camera-ready to me.”
Joe fixed Georgia in a hard stare, as her cameraman dropped the bulky camera to his side again.
“So, what happened at the bank?” she asked.
“Talk to Cy Kent yet?” Joe asked, referring to his supervising officer. With any luck he could dump the reporter in his lap and move on from Georgia’s relentless clutch. Looking around he saw no other news teams had appeared at the hospital, a good thing for the other hostages who were still being checked over inside.
“What would Cy know anyway? You were there,” the reporter said, moving a little closer to Joe.
“Yeah, I was there but you know how it goes. Can’t release any information that might compromise any investigation .blah…blah…blah. I’m not who you need Georgia. Talk to Cy.” he advised.
“What investigation, Joe? The guy went into the bank. He took hostages. He wanted money. You guys shot him and he’s dead.” Georgia put her hand on a cocked hip.
“Not much of a story, when you put it like that, huh?” Joe pointed out, beginning to move away from the blond.
“I heard there was bad blood between the two of you,” she said keeping pace with his long strides. “You and the guy at the bank, I mean. Any truth there?”
“Really? That’s what you heard?” Joe said, dodging the question.
“How are the hostages?”
“Well, probably happy they’re not hostages any more, Georgia, but do humanity a favor and give them some space huh?” Joe stopped walking to nail her squarely in her big blue eyes. “They’ve been through something traumatic. Your questions and the whole camera thing won’t help them.”
“Killjoy,” Georgia accused. “What about the woman who was shot? She’s still in there?” she asked, realizing she wasn’t going to get anything worth broadcasting from Joe.
“A woman was shot?” Joe knew this tactic of firing questions, as she shot her own in his direction, was especially annoying to her, but he considered it entertaining as hell.
“Yeah, that’s what I heard. One of the hostages was shot. She was wearing a cute red slip.”
“Well, Georgia, I think you could be right about her still being inside,” Joe said, lifting a dark eyebrow and looking over his shoulder at the hospital exit. As odd as his conversation with Pria’s family had been, he was suddenly glad they’d taken her from the hospital, even if he had no idea how they’d managed to do it so damned quickly.
Georgia’s interest in Joe evaporated like a tiny puddle on a suffocating afternoon. She started moving back toward the hospital exit as if she’d never seen him before in her life.
Free again, Joe jogged to his car. Once inside, he placed a call to the hospital to talk with the ER’s charge nurse, a guy Joe respected for his ability to get things done quickly. After explaining his conversation with Georgia Hudsis to the nurse, Joe suggested that any hostages leaving the hospital should be escorted out by hospital security or cops and taken through a back exit from the ER to the parking garage. He’d already arranged for each of them to be driven home by cops if no family members showed up to get them.
As Joe was dumping Georgia and hopefully preventing her from wreaking emotional havoc with ex-hostages, Pria dropped her head on the backseat of Keirc’s SUV, looking forward to reaching the Sanctum, a haven for supernaturals a little less than a hundred miles from Saint Rushton, where she’d been raised with Keirc by her step-parents, Miri and Andrieu. Keirc was behind the wheel, with Monroe riding shotgun. Miri was next to Pria in the back seat.
“So, Whitwater’s dead,” Keirc said breaking the silence. “Your kill?” he asked Pria.
“Yes,” she answered. “My kill.” The thought nauseated her slightly even though she’d killed before. As her mother had been a fallen angel, she had the abilities to preserve life or end it. In some circumstances, ending life was a noble calling, but she wouldn’t have taken Whitwater’s life had there been an option. With Joe Cafaris facing a certain death if he’d taken her place, she’d had no choice. If Whitwater had only wanted money, she’d have done nothing to prevent him from taking it. “How did you know what happened?”
“Monroe heard a news report at the bakery. The initial report said a number of police vehicles were at the bank, but he knew that was where you’d gone, so he called Keircnan,” Miri answered. “Keirc tracked police scanners and then hit the hospital databases. That’s how we knew where you’d been taken. All of the hostages went to Saint Rushton University General.” Miri covered Pria’s hand with her own. Knowing her stepdaughter, she could sense Pria’s uneasiness as well as the pain in her arm. Miri also knew that if Pria had killed, there had been no alternative. “Tell us what happened,” she said.
Pria outlined the events at the bank, including the fact that Joe would have died if he had taken her place as Whitwater’s shield.
“Well, I think the humans should be thanking you, although I still can’t for the life of me see why the hell you want to live or work among them,” Keirc said, unearthing a conflict that had existed since Pria had made the decision to move from the Sanctum years ago. “The Sanctum is your home, Pria. You’re safe there. Much as you might wish otherwise, you are not a human and humans…”
“Keirc, please don’t start…,” Pria said, trying to cut her stepbrother’s rant before he really got rolling.
“You descend from an angel and a vampire, for Christ’s sake, and what happened today could prove to be a risk for everyone at the Sanctum, which is where you belong, Pria.”
“Keirc, the Sanctum…”
“Is