Death Takes a Holiday Read Free Page B

pointed due north. That, um, impressed me more than I can say. But when you refused to save Oliver, I guess that image became tarnished. I don’t trust a lot of people, but I trusted you to always do the right thing.”
    “I did show up,” he reminds me.
    “Yeah, but because I was in danger, not him. You would have let him die and that, to me, is unacceptable.”
    “You think if the roles were reversed he would have acted differently?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then I think you’ve given us both too much credit,” he says with a sneer. “Well, I’m sorry I didn’t live up to your expectations, and I promise not to say I told you so when your boyfriend fails to live up to them too.” He stands up, stalking toward the door to my right.
    “We are so not done here,” I say.
    He tries to open the door, but it won’t budge. He yanks and yanks, but it doesn’t move. His werewolf strength is no match for my power gripping the door. “Open this door,” he orders.
    “No. Sit back down and let’s finish this.”
    He smacks the door and steps toward me, those nostrils expanding again. “We’re finished.”
    “Sit down, Will, or I’ll make you.” He knows I will. My glare is as serious as his, but I know he’d never do anything to physically harm me; this does not go both ways. He does as I say, resuming his dour, stony body language as he returns to his chair across from me. We’re silent for a few uncomfortable moments until I can find the right words. “I was chilly to you after Dallas, and I apologize for that. I was grieving, I was processing the whole op, and I was … tending to a sick friend. And yes, I was mad at you for not being the White Knight I made you out to be.” His shoulders and jaw stiffen even more. “But,
I still consider you a good, kind, brave man. I know when I need you, you’ll be there. Even in spite of all of this.” I swallow, buying myself a few moments before I have to say this last bit. “But, I am disappointed in you. Not just for that, but for the past few months. You instigated a lot of it, so it’s up to you to end it. The both of you. I’m positive the only way to resolve this whole mess is for you and Oliver to sit down and sort out your differences. I’ve said the same thing to him a dozen times, and I’m sure he’d be willing if you were.”
    Will shakes his head. “You’re so naive. You’ve known him for what? Seven months?” He leans in, arms still crossed. “I’ve known him for seven years . Seven years of insubordination, of arguments, of … monstrosity. You think I have questionable morals? Let me tell you something about your boyfriend. Five years ago on an op in Des Moines, we were on a vamp hunt. One of our four witnesses was another old pal of his. On sight they got into a knockdown, drag-out fight. I had to pull them apart. A couple days later, this same vamp came to me saying he had information on your Oliver. Never got around to telling me what it was. The next day, we found his head in a field, and it wasn’t because of the vamps we were investigating. We’d killed them the night before. I’ll spare you the details of the case that brought him to the F.R.E.A.K.S. I’ll just say there was a girl in Virginia who grew up an orphan in part because of him.”
    I attempt to maintain my composure, not letting him know that inside I’m wigging out. I knew Oliver had done bad things, just not so recently. I’ve never really given much thought to his past. It’s hard to reconcile the man I went ice skating with last week with a cold-blooded killer, but this is not the time to sort this out. Harmony is the watchword tonight. “Is that why you hate him? Because he’s a killer?”
    “Yes.”
    “Do you hate me? Because I killed my first man at age eight.”
    “That’s different.”
    “Is it? I’ve killed in cold blood. Marianna. Freddy.”
    “But you regret it. You have a soul.”
    “So does he.”
    Will tosses his hands up. “Look, I thought this