Blood Pact

Frankenstein's monster?”

    "Yeah. Tell her exactly that." Celluci rubbed at his temples with the heels of his hands. It had been a very long night and he wasn't looking forward to morning. "Do you remember that little incident last fall?”

    Henry's brows rose. There could be little doubt what the detective was referring to, although he'd hardly describe the destruction of an ancient Egyptian wizard as an incident . "If you're speaking of Anwar Tawfik, I remember.”

    "Well, I was thinking of something Vicki said, after it was all over, about there being a dark god out there who knows us and that if we give in to hopelessness and despair it'll be on us like a politician at a free bar." He sighed, a long, shuddering exhalation, and was almost too tired to breathe in again. "If it hasn't noticed her yet, it'll be on her soon. She's on the edge.”

    "Vicki?”

    "You didn't see her.”

    Henry had difficulty believing Vicki would ever give in to anything, least of all to hopelessness and despair, but he recognized that under the present circumstances even the strongest character might succumb. "And you think that if we tell her what we suspect? . . .”

    "She'll be furious and there's nothing that wipes out hopelessness and despair faster than righteous anger.”

    Henry thought about it, arms crossed, shoulder blades pressed against the wall. Tawfik's dark god continued to exist because the emotions it fed on were part of the human condition, but the three of them, he, Celluci, and Vicki, knew its name. If it wanted acolytes, and what god didn't, it would have to go to one of them. If Celluci was right about Vicki, and Henry had to admit that the years the mortal had known her should make him a fair judge, giving her anger as a protection would be the best thing they could do. There was also one other factor that shouldn't be ignored. "She'd never forgive us if we didn't tell her.”

    Celluci nodded, lips pursed. "There is that.”

    Silence reigned for a moment as they considered the result of having Vicki's fury directed at them.

    Neither figured their odds of survival would be particularly high, at least not as far as maintaining a continuing relationship went.
    Henry spoke first. "So, we'll tell her.”

    "Tell her what?" Vicki stood in the entrance to the living room, clothing creased, eyes shadowed, cheek imprinted with a fold from the pillowcase. Stepping forward carefully, she swayed and grabbed for the back of a chair, bracing herself against its support.
    She felt distant from her own body, an effect of the sleeping pills she'd barely managed to fight off. "Tell her that she's out of her mind?
    That she couldn't have seen her dead mother at the window?" Her voice rode crazy highs and lows; she couldn't seem to keep it steady.

    "Actually, Vicki, we believe you." Henry's tone left no room for doubt.

    Taken by surprise, Vicki blinked then tried to focus a scowl on Celluci. "You both believe me?”

    "Yes." He met her scowl with one of his own. "We both believe you.”

    * * *
    Celluci flinched as the Royal Dalton figurine hit the far wall of the living room and smashed into a thousand expensive bone china shards. Henry moved a little farther away from the blast radius.

    "Goddamn, fucking, shit-eating bastards!" The rage that turned her vision red and roared in her ears, stuck in Vicki's throat, blocking the stream of profanity. She scooped up another ornament and heaved it as hard as she could across the room. As it shattered, she found her voice again. "How DARE they!”

    Breathing heavily, she collapsed back onto the couch, teeth clenched against waves of nausea, her body's reaction to the news.
    "How can someone do that to another human being?”

    "Science . . ." Celluci began, but Vicki cut him off, which was probably for the best as he wasn't entirely certain what he was going to say.

    "This isn't science, Mike. This is my mother .”

    "Not your mother, Vicki," Henry told her softly. ”Just your mother's body.”

    "Just my mother's body?" Vicki shoved at her glasses with her fist so they wouldn't see her fingers tremble. "I might not have been the world's best daughter, but I know my own mother, and I'm telling you that was my mother at the window. Not just her fucking body!”

    Celluci sat down beside her on the couch and caught up one of her hands in both of his. He considered and discarded four or five comforting platitudes that didn't really seem to have any relevance and wisely