He struck her in the face. There was horrible pain. Horrible, and she fell, and the pain went away. She… passed out. I think. He hit her, kept hitting her even when she was unconscious.
In the face, in the body.
"See how you like it. See how you like it.'.
Celina's eyes went glassy, the pale, pale green of the irises nearly translucent. " "Who's the boss now? Who's in charge now, you bitch?" But he stops, he stops beating her, slaps her cheeks lightly with those big hands. Bringing her around.
She needs to be awake for the rest. There's such pain! I don't know, don't know if it's his or hers, there's so much pain." "It's not your pain," Peabody said quietly and shook her head before Eve could speak. "You're a witness, and you can tell us what you see. It's not your pain." "Not mine." Celina breathed in deep. "He tears her clothes.
She can't fight, barely struggles. And when she tries to push at him, he yanks her hand away. Something in her breaks.
She's confused, the way an animal's confused when it's caught in a trap. He rapes her, and it hurts. It hurts deep inside. She can't see him. It's too dark and the pain is overwhelming.
She goes under again. It's safer there, there's no pain there. She doesn't feel when he kills her. Her body reacts, convulsing. And that… there's a thrill in that for him.
Her death throes bring him to orgasm.
"I'm sick." Celina pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry. I'm sick. I need to-" "Here, come on." Peabody was up, drawing Celina to her feet. "Come with me." As Peabody helped her out of the room, Eve pushed away from the table. She walked to one of the windows, shoved it open so she could lean out. Lean out and breathe.
She understood the nausea all too well. What it was like to see, again and again. To feel, over and over. And the sickness that came with it.
She let the air, and the noise, the life of the city push it out of her again. She watched an airtram, crammed with commuters streak by, and an ad blimp hover, spewing out its announcements for sales, events, tourist packages.
Her legs felt watery yet, so she stayed where she was, listening to the click of chopper blades, the blast of horns from the street below, the rattle of an airbus.
It all teemed together, a cacophony that was a kind of music to her. A song she understood, and one that gave her a sense of place.
She was never really alone in the city. Never helpless with her badge.
Remembering pain, knowing its source, could make her stronger. It was good to know that.
Steadier, she closed the window, walked back to the table, and poured more coffee.
Some of the color had seeped back into Celina's cheeks when Peabody brought her back in. She'd fussed with her face a little bright lip dye, eye gunk to cover the worst of the damage. Women, in Eve's opinion, could worry about the strangest things at the strangest times.
Once Celina was seated, Peabody went over to get a bottle of water.
"You're better off with this than the coffee," she said, setting it on the table.
"Yes, you're right. Thanks." She held out a hand, gave Peabody's a squeeze. "Thank you for staying with me, helping me pull myself back together." "No problem." "You must think me very weak," she said to Eve.
"You're wrong. I don't think anything of the kind. I…
We…" she amended. "We come to them after it's done, and we see, day after day, the results of what people can do to each other. The blood, the gore, the waste. It's not easy. It should never be easy. But we don't see it happening how it happens. We don't feel what the victim feels and have to take it in." "Yes, you do." Celina wiped her fingers under her eyes.
"You've just found a way to handle it. Now, I have to." She steadied herself with more water.
"He undressed her after. I think. There was a part of me, by now, resisting the vision. Fighting it. But I think he took her clothes; they were torn from the rape. He carried her…
Not her damn it." She sipped water, took three long breaths. "What I mean is she's someone else to him. He sees someone else, and he's punishing someone else. Someone who punished him. In the dark. He's afraid of the dark." "He kills at night," Eve pointed out.
"He has to. He has to overcome it?" "Possibly. What else?" "I broke out of the vision. I broke out because I couldn't stand it. And I called you. I know I should have let it run its course. I might have seen something that could help. I was panicked, and I fought it until I broke out." "We got to her, to the scene, quicker because you contacted me. We were able to preserve the scene because we were able to get there so fast. That matters." "I hope to God it does. Are you any closer to him?" "I think we are." Celina closed her eyes. "Thank God. If you have anything of his, I can try to see him." "We have the murder weapon." Celina shook her head. "I'll try, but it's bound to be like it was before, so what I see feel is the act itself, and the emotions raging through it. I need something he's touched with his bare hands. Something he's worn or held to really see him, to add to what you already know." Eve laid the cord on the table. Try anyway." Celina wet her lips, then reached out, touched the ribbon.
Her head snapped back, and her eyes rolled up so only a slice of green showed in the white. As she started to slide out of the chair, her fingers went limp and released the ribbon.
Eve leaped up, caught her before she hit the ground.
"All him. Nothing of her. She's gone. Hidden away when he puts it around her neck. There's just his rage and fear and excitement. It's all over me like like insects biting at my skin. Horrible." "What does he do when he's done with her?" "Goes back to the light. He can go back to the light. I don't know what it means. My head. My head's splitting." "We'll get you something for it, and have you taken home.
Peabody?" "Let's get you a blocker. Do you want to rest before you go home?" "No." She leaned against Peabody. "I just want to go." "Celina." Eve covered the red ribbon with her hand so when the woman turned she didn't see it. "You might want to talk to Dr Mira, a little counseling." "I appreciate the thought, I really do, but counseling-" "Her daughter is Wiccan, and a sensitive." "Ah." "Charlotte Mira. She's the best, and it might help you to talk to someone who'd understand your… situation." "It might. Thanks." When she was alone, Eve lifted the red cord, studied it.
She didn't need to hold it to see, or to feel. Gift? she wondered. Or curse? Neither, she decided, and sealed the ribbon again. It was a tool, nothing more or less.
She was trying to find the energy just to stand when the door opened, and Commander Whitney came in.
She rose immediately. "Sir. I've just finished interviewing Sanchez, and was on my way to your office." "Sit. Where's that coffee from?" "My office, Commander." Then it'll be well worth it." He got himself a mug, poured, then sat across from her. Saying nothing, he scanned her face while he drank. "How much sleep you bank?" "A couple hours." Less, but who was counting?
"Looks it. And the fact of that occurred to me when I came in and read your report. You've been eleven years, give or take a few months, under my command, haven't you, Lieutenant?" "Yes, sir." That length of time, and your rank, and you don't feel it would be justified even reasonable to inform me that you're not only running on fumes but have a vital interview scheduled for eight hundred hours when I ordered you to report to my office at nine hundred?" Since he seemed to want an honest answer, she took a moment to consider the question. "No, sir." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I thought as much. You eat any of those?" He jerked his chin toward the bagels.
"No, sir, but they're fresh from vending. Well, as fresh as we get from vending." "Eat one now." "Sir?" "Eat, Dallas. Indulge me. You look like hell." She picked one up. "Matches how I feel." "I spoke with the mayor, and have a meeting with him and Chief Tibbie in about thirty. Your presence was requested." "At the mayor's office, sir, or The Tower?" "Mayor's office. But I will inform His Honor and the Chief that you're unable to attend as you are in the field." She didn't speak, but something must have run over her face. Something that made him smile. "Tell me what just went through your mind. And don't clean it up. That's an order." "I wasn't thinking anything, actually, sir. But I was mentally kissing your feet." He laughed, picked up half a bagel, broke that in half, and bit in. "You'll miss some fireworks. Shutting down a public park."