go but I wanted to check something first,” I say.
“You be careful, alright?” For a moment I think she’s noticed what I’m up to, but then I realize she’s talking about him. “The Dollmaker clearly isn’t afraid of anything, and I don’t want to see you hurt over this.”
I nod, wishing she wouldn’t call him that. That word, even in a name, just makes me feel horrid. But she has nothing else to call him because she doesn’t realize how much of a monster he is. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”
“Good,” she says as she does something an aisle over as I continue to pretend I’m busy with the evidence. When she finally leaves, I pull the case back out and flip it open before looking inside.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
There are only three bullets nestled into their padded spots. When the case had ended, all weapons were confiscated. Most things went with Wren, since the case was his and he would be able to get them to someone who could analyze what was inside the bullets that were lethal enough to almost put down a vampire as old as Marcus. When we found this case here, it got stuck in evidence with the plan to get it to Wren if they needed more but it never happened. I thought this could be it. If a police-grade bullet to the head did nothing to stop that monster, I thought these could. But Marcus was shot multiple times in the stomach, so will three help me?
In order to even slow him with these, all three would have to hit their mark, yet I shot at him six times and only one bullet hit.
“Fuck.” But it’s better than nothing.
I pull the bullets free and rush the case back over to where it belongs. Then I head back out and quicken my pace to return to my desk before Marcus begins to worry.
MARCUS
What is he up to?
And why is he keeping it a secret?
I stare at Finn who gives me a huge smile that just reeks of guilt. I narrow my eyes, not falling for it, and he cocks his head a little, like he’s going to toss in a splash of innocence.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Yep,” he says as he gathers his stuff and heads toward the door. I’m well aware this staying-home stuff won’t last long, and I don’t blame him, but we want to be smart and get some security measures in place before we continue our hunt. And with the power of technology, we can do some things at home.
While Watson assured us we could stay another night, Orin had spent the entire day making sure nothing was getting near the house without high-security alarms sounding. So I turn onto the road toward Orin’s house.
In the car, Finn’s kind of quiet and I want to make him feel better, but he’s the one who’s good at that stuff. Not me.
“Do you want to talk?” I ask.
“I stole something out of the evidence room,” he blurts out.
“I knew you were up to something. What’d you steal?” I ask.
He pulls something out of his pocket and holds it in front of me. I glance at it, the traffic too thick for me to look away from the road and get a good look. “Bullets?”
“Special bullets.”
Realization sets in. “The bullets that hit me?”
He nods as he pulls out his gun and empties it before putting three special bullets in as well as one regular. “In case the first shot I need to take isn’t for him,” he explains. “I only have three shots with it, so I’ll have to make it count. But if I ever shoot him again, I’m going to make sure it’s with one of these. I know I won’t kill him, but I want to make him hurt… I want to make him bleed. Of course the analysts finally get some blood off him and there’s no fucking DNA match anywhere because I have no fucking luck, Marcus!”
I know he’s horribly frustrated by the whole thing, but I try to do what I can to make him feel better about the situation. “I know it seems that way, but everyone you care about is still alive and we’re still together. We have to consider that luck and just keep moving forward.”
He turns to me. “Do we move at all? It just seems like we run in a fucking circle around and around while he just laughs from the fucking shadows!” he yells.