She sniffled a little. “The girl I climbed trees with. The woman with the guts to live life on her own terms.”
I thought it over, then added, “I’ll remember her toughness. Her strength. That batch of toast she burned.”
Gen chuckled. “I remember that.” Then she sobered. “Will it be enough, though?”
“Enough for what?”
Gen knotted her fingers together. “Enough that she won’t be forgotten — or worse, that she’ll only be remembered as a person with a lot of…troubles in her life.”
That was putting it delicately, but a fair point.
I thought it over. “She won’t be forgotten. Not by us. That’s guaranteed. And as for the rest…” I cleared my throat and gave myself a moment to put my thoughts together…and rein in a few emotions.
“My unit lost a few guys over the years, and not all of them were angels,” I finally said. “That was part of who they were, so no, that doesn’t disappear. But mostly, you remember the little things. What food they liked and hated. Their best — and worst — jokes. The times you spent together, making a mission that much more bearable or more successful. That’s what creates a memory.”
Gen nodded, keeping her eyes on the candles. A fact I was glad for, because talking wasn’t a tiger’s strong suit. Especially when it came to the tough stuff.
“Do you think Clement will find the vampire who did it?” she asked softly.
“I know he’ll put everything into it. His heart is in the right place, at least when it comes to getting justice for Claudette.”
“That’s the only time his heart is in the right place,” she muttered bitterly.
I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I knew better than to push it.
“What will happen if they do catch that vampire? It’s not like they can put him through a public trial.”
“No, they’ll keep this hushed up. And the vampire — if they catch him — will be turned over to his home coven for punishment.”
Gen snorted. “Severe enough to make up for murder?”
I nodded solemnly. “More severe than any human court would, I guarantee.”
“As in…?” Gen asked.
I shrugged. “Death. A very slow, painful one. Vampires don’t tolerate their kind attracting attention.”
Gen shivered, and I resisted the urge to wrap an arm around her shoulders.
Then she sighed. “I’m glad Henrik isn’t falsely accused, but I’m not exactly looking forward to his return.”
Tires crunched over gravel as a vehicle came down the drive. Neither of us looked, but then, we didn’t have to.
“Speak of the devil,” I murmured.
Gen let out a dry chuckle. “Well put.”
It was time to check in with the others, but neither of us budged. We just sat there, giving Claudette her due.
I was about to suggest joining the others when cold air sliced into the chapel. The candles flickered, struggling to stay lit, and we both whirled.
“Henrik,” Gen whispered, not too cheerfully.
He stood, barely a shadow in the doorway, for a few seconds before speaking. “May I join you?”
No, I nearly barked, for a number of different reasons. But Gen beat me to it.
“Sure.” Her voice wobbled nervously.
