Harvey huffed out an impatient breath. “But your actions don’t make any damnsense, Trina. Why are you throwing your career away? What could be worth that?”
“Why is it bothering you so much?” Trina countered.
Harvey bit her lip a moment, quietly fuming, and then sat down across from Trina. “Because,” she said, biting off the words, “I know how hard I had to work to get where I am, and you had to work that hard, too. A spotless record; no mistakes. No sick days, no romantic relationships, no distractions.” Her breathing had picked up, short and sharp. “I worked my ass off, and I spend all my time taking apart dead people. You’re a good cop, Trina. When you come into my morgue, I know you’re going to leave it and go bust the son of a bitch who put that body on my table. You sacrificed just like I did; we lose sleep for the same reasons. And you’re just…just giving up!” Her hands fluttered up and slapped back down into her lap, defeated. “I just don’t understand. We’re doing good work – how can you let that go?”
Trina took a deep breath and cradled her coffee in both hands. “I get it,” she said, because she did. They had their dedication in common: the sleepless nights, the nonexistent personal lives. If you gave your every waking moment to a career…what were you left with when the career crumbled? What happened when your driving force in life was suddenly ripped away?
Harvey’s brows lifted.So?
“Okay,” Trina said, chest tight. “You’re not going to believe any of this, but I’m going to tell you, because you’re right – walking away from the force would be insane…unless I had a very good reason. I had been having these nightmares,” she started, and then she told her everything. As plainly and succinctly as possible. Careful not to skip over the impossible parts.
Harvey’s face smoothed over halfway through, a dazed sort of blank.
By the time she finished, Trina was out of breath. “My job is important because people are, in general, important. I care about justice. And in this case, the people are my people, and the justice is the kind that the legal system can’t guarantee. So. I’m not just risking my career for nothing. Sasha saved my great-grandmother in 1942. He’s literally the only reason I even exist. I owe him this. I owe him a hell of a lotmorethan this, but I’ll start with a rescue mission. He’s family.”
Harvey opened and closed her mouth a few times. “The…the guy. The one who was at your desk. The blond one. He’s awere…wolf?”
“Yes.”
“And he’s…from World War Two?”
“Yes.”
“And is best friends with your great-granddad. Who’s a vampire.”
“Yes.”
Harvey took another few breaths. Nodded. “Okay. Okay. No…not, it’s not okay.” She shook her head. “Are you–”
“Christine,” Trina said. “I know it sounds nuts. But when have I ever said anything crazy? You know me. I’m not a liar. I…” She sighed. “You don’t have to believe me. I just wanted to tell you the truth. Finally. At least that way you’ll know I didn’t run off for no reason.”
Harvey stared at her a long, unblinking moment. She splayed her hands out on the table and finally looked down at them, drawing in a deep breath. “I want to tell you you’re full of shit.”
Trina waited.
“But he was dead. Hewas. And he walked away.” She lifted her head, expression raw and vulnerable. “How is any of this possible?”
“It just is,” Trina said, helplessly.
Harvey blew out a breath and nodded. “Well. If you need any help…”
Trina smiled. “I appreciate it. But I’ve got enough. I think.”
Harvey nodded again, sharper this time, expression firming. “You’ll let me know how it goes?”
“Yeah.”
“And when you get back in town?”
“Yeah. Thank you, Christine.”
Harvey waved her off. “Nah. Just…go save your werewolf. Or the world. Whichever comes first.”
Trina started to stand.
“Oh, and vampire or not, please tell me Webb finally made his move. Because watching the two of you dancing around each other was getting really old.”
Trina smiled. “Yeah. He did.”
