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“You can’t cross over it, can you?”
Nicole can’t look at Waverly. Not now. Not when they’re sitting in Waverly’s Jeep a few feet before the fence line of the Earp homestead and her chest feels as if it is going to burst from the energy assaulting her. If she looks at Waverly now, the disgust in her eyes will hurt far more than any attempt to cross the Ghost Triangle’s border.
She swallows the lump in her throat, but her words are still strained. “Waverly, I—”
“Did Bobo send you?”
Nicole’s brow furrows and now she does look at Waverly, but she isn’t looking back. Instead, her gaze rests on the dilapidated house further down the gravel driveway. “What?”
“Bobo del Rey! Did he send you?!” And Nicole thinks she preferred when Waverly wasn’t looking at her because the angry tears in her eyes remind her that she’s hurt yet another person—worse, she hurt one she’s come to care about. “Or should I call him the Revenant king? Does that ring a bell?”
“I’m not one of them,” she breathes through the tightness in her throat. She so badly wishes they were further from the boundary around the homestead. She needs her thoughts to be clear, and right now they are anything but. Waverly scoffs and says something, but the blood is pounding in Nicole’s ears too loud for her to hear. She does, however, hear the slamming of the door when Waverly gets out of the Jeep. “Waverly!”
“Shut it, Nicole, or whoever the hell you are,” she says, and Nicole hates that the first time Waverly doesn’t stumble over her name is when she’s angry with her.
She has to explain, or at least try.
She stumbles out of the Jeep and her head spins with each small step she takes towards the homestead. The force of the ammolite slams against her and every nerve in her body is screaming at her to flee, to get as far away from this place as possible before it pushes her out in a far less pleasant way. Still, she clenches her teeth and takes one more step towards the fence line. The ammolite won’t let her get any closer, but she won’t let herself step back. She’s stuck while she watches Waverly cross the boundary.
“I swear I don’t work for Bobo,” she says, each word weighted with a plea for the other woman to stop and listen.
Waverly turns on her heel and stomps back to the fence line, arms crossed over her chest. She doesn’t cross back over to where Nicole can touch her, but she is close enough that Nicole can see the fire burning in her eyes and the betrayal written on her face. Now more than ever she wishes she could turn back time. Maybe if she had done more good before she agreed to come to the homestead, she would have been able to cross and Waverly wouldn’t be glaring at her. She’s such an idiot, and part of her wishes the ground would swallow her whole here and now.
Where are Wynonna and Peacemaker when you really need them?
“You swear? What good is that supposed to be? You already lied to me,” Waverly says. “How am I supposed to trust anything you have to say?” She narrows her eyes in suspicion and Nicole squirms under her gaze. “Why me?” she asks, and the confusion must be obvious on Nicole’s face because she adds, “Why try to get close to me? To get to Wynonna?”
“No!”
But Waverly’s already got the idea in her head and there’s no steering her away from it. “Really, I get it. I’m the dumb baby sister who got tricked into letting Revs onto her property when she was little. It worked once, might as well try it again, right?” She stomps across the boundary to stand toe to toe with Nicole and glares up at her. “If Bobo thinks I would be stupid enough to fall for that again, then you can tell him—”
“I’m not working with him,” Nicole says again. She’ll say it until she’s blue in the face if she has to, but she needs Waverly to know she isn’t with the trailer park Revenants. “The only reason I was trying to get close to you was because I wanted to get to know you. Not because anyone told me to.” But Waverly hasn’t backed off and Nicole so badly wants to reach out and take her hand the way she had at Shorty’s so she can wipe away the pain she caused, but she imagines her touch is the furthest thing from comforting at the moment. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I am sooner, but how exactly was I supposed to bring it up?”
“It shouldn’t have been brought up because you shouldn’t have spoken to me in the first place!” Waverly shoves her and Nicole stumbles backwards, but stays on her feet. “But you came to me with that stupid, flirty smile, knowing what you are and who my family is, and you got me to… to…” Waverly groans in frustration. “Whatever. Just stay the hell away from me, or Wynonna is going to find out exactly what you are.”
Nicole’s throat tightens. She can hear the threat in her voice, but the fact that Waverly hasn’t called Wynonna yet gives her glimmer of hope. “I’m sorry.”
“Go!” Waverly snaps before she crosses her arms over her middle and stalks back over the fence line, her head hung low and her shoulders hunched.
Nicole’s tempted to try crossing the fence line, just so the damn thing will fling her as far from here as it possibly can. She settles for giving the homestead one last glance before she starts the long walk back to town and, more importantly, the local liquor stores.
God, she’s such an idiot.
It’s the thousandth time Waverly has had the thought since the incident at the fence line. It’s quite annoying, given that she is trying to get some research done—research on one demonic Nicole Haught—but her frustration with herself for trusting Nicole is making the search go slower than it should be. That, and the fact that there is no record of a Nicole Haught in any of the research she has gathered. Nothing in her great great grandfather’s accounts, nothing in the town records, and nothing in the archived newspapers.
She pinches the bridge of her nose and releases a heavy sigh before she puts her computer to sleep and leans back in her chair to stare up at the freshly painted pink ceiling.
The day had started off so promising, too.
After spending nearly two weeks with Wynonna repairing the damage from the Revenant attack and the vandalism that came after, she had wanted to show the place off to someone. Plus, the idea of getting to know Officer Haught more outside of early morning flirtations and heartbreaking funerals had made Waverly’s heart skip, but in a pleasant way. The drive itself to the homestead had been comfortable, both of them laughing over stories of the things Sheriff Nedley had done over the last few weeks to passive-aggressively torment Dolls, only to have his plans backfire. Waverly had decided on the drive over that she very much enjoyed the sound of Nicole’s laugh.
But then the fence line had happened, and the easy camaraderie Waverly had found with Nicole had fled.
She sighs again and eyes the bubblegum sake on the shelf, but before she can decide whether or not she’d like to take a drink or just chug the whole thing, her phone goes off and startles the hell out of her. Fitting, for the name that flashes on her screen. She’s tempted to ignore it, but curiosity gets the better of her. Scowling, she answers.
“I thought I told you to leave me alone.” Silence greets her and she checks the phone to make sure she hasn’t accidentally hung up on Nicole—though she would totally deserve it after the crap she pulled—but the seconds are still ticking on the timer.
“Waverly? What… Why d'you have Wynonna’s phone?”
“I don’t. You called me,” Waverly says, and a smile flickers across her face. Then she remembers what Nicole is and she forces the expression back into a scowl. “Is this you drunk dialing me? To make me feel sorry for you? Because it’s not gonna work,” she says, but part of her thinks it might. She’s finding it difficult to think of Nicole as a Revenant when she’s like this.
“I told you, I was trying to call your sister! It’s not my fault you Earpers have a thing with W names!” There’s a hiccuping sound, followed by a loud groan. Then Nicole says, “She isn’t there, is she?”
Waverly leans back slightly in her chair and looks out the door to her bedroom. Wynonna is still in the living room on their refurbished couch, her legs kicked up on the coffee table and the last bag of corn chips in her lap.
“She is. If you’re worried about whether I told her or not, I’m still on the fence, so don’t push your luck.”
“I’m not worried,” Nicole says. Waverly hears a thud, followed by a muffled curse, and assumes Nicole dropped the phone. “Hello? Wynonna?”
“Still Waverly here,” she says. “I didn’t know Revenants could get drunk.”
“Surprise.”
Waverly taps the end of her pen against her desk as she says, “Yeah, you seem to be full of those today.”
“I know,” Nicole says, her voice hoarse. There’s a moment of silence, only broken by what Waverly can assume is a sniffle. “Waverly,” she says, and Waverly hates that she’s bothered by the way her name cracks on Nicole’s tongue. “I know you said to leave you alone. Do you think you could give Wynonna the phone? Please? I don’t want to bother you again.”
“Okay, but I just have one question. If I like your answer enough, maybe I’ll give Wynonna the phone,” she says. When she doesn’t hear Nicole protest, she asks, “Why did you want to get to know me?”
“I… What?”
Waverly eyes her sister out in living room before she gets up and softly closes the door. After she returns to her chair, she says, “Earlier today you told me the reason you approached me had nothing to do with Bobo or Wynonna, so tell me why.”
“Because the first time I saw you smile, it started to feel like I had a real heart again,” Nicole says without hesitation, alcohol loosening her tongue. But the declaration is followed by a bitter laugh. “I forgot how much having one of those can hurt, though.”
Waverly gets it now, why Nicole had thought a drunken phone call to Wynonna would be a good idea. She closes her eyes and sighs. Logically, she knows the smart thing to do is give Wynonna the phone and let Nicole confess what she is. But Nicole is being sappy and sounds utterly pathetic—decidedly not very Revenant-like—and despite what she’s learned, Waverly still has a soft spot for the woman she thought Nicole was.
“Are you at home?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” Waverly says as she pushes her chair back from the desk. “If you’re serious about this, stay there.”
She hangs up before Nicole can respond and tosses the phone on her desk. She stares at it for a moment, then stands up and wanders, gathering her things. Once her shoes and jacket are on, she grabs her phone again along with the shotgun from her bedside—just in case—and leaves her room.
When Waverly steps into the living room, her sister is still relaxing on the couch, but she looks over her shoulder when she hears Waverly’s footsteps. Wynonna’s gaze lands on the shotgun and she says, “Champ sleeping with that girl from across town again, Baby Girl?”
Waverly shakes her head. “Don’t know, don’t care,” she says. “Nicole asked me to come over,” she explains, and it isn’t quite a lie. Not quite the truth either, but she hasn’t figured out how to tell Wynonna about Nicole. “It’s a long drive to town in the dark.”
“I always knew you were the smart one,” Wynonna says with a wink. “Stay safe out there, Wave, and text me when you get to Officer Haught Stuff’s place so I know you made it.”
“You got it, sis.”
Waverly’s only been to Nicole’s place once, but it isn’t hard for her to find again. It’s a small one bedroom apartment on the second floor of the Martinez house in town, one that has been rented out to dozens of drifters over the years. She parks across from the house and takes a deep breath to steady her racing heart. After one final reminder that the woman in the apartment lied to her about what she is and that she’s supposed to be angry with her, Waverly grabs her shotgun out of the passenger seat and slides out of the Jeep. The stairs to the second floor are attached to the side of the house and they creak beneath Waverly’s feet as she takes them two at a time. The door, however, is silent as she pushes it open.
Darkness greets her and the stench of alcohol assaults her senses. She may work in a bar, but it had never been this bad. She steps further into the apartment and the shadows engulf her as she shuts the door. After she adjusts to the strong smell of booze, she realizes the alcohol masks an even worse, putrid smell that makes her nose burn. The smell of vomit is another she has become familiar with while working at Shorty’s.
“Nicole, it’s Waverly,” she calls out to the dark room as her hand slides along the wall for the light switch. “Try any shit, and you’ll be eating shotgun shells until Wynonna gets here.”
When she finds the switch and flicks it on, however, any weight the threat may have held is lost when she gasps at the sight of Nicole sprawled across the floor beside the coffee table, hopefully unconscious and not… well… She refuses to think the other word. Waverly leans the shotgun against the wall by the door before she picks her way over glass bottles and empty beer cans. Once she reaches Nicole’s side, she places her fingers against her throat and grimaces when she doesn’t find a pulse.
“Come on, you stupid demon,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Wake up.”
She knows Nicole can’t really die—not without Peacemaker—but the sight of her lying there, skin several shades too pale and sweat-soaked bangs clinging to her forehead, rocks Waverly to the core. She reaches out with a shaky hand and brushes the dark bangs away from Nicole’s face and lets her hand linger on the too-cold skin. The knot in her stomach tightens with each passing minute that Nicole doesn’t awaken.
She shouldn’t feel bad, Waverly knows that. Nicole is a literal demon from Hell itself and probably committed enough acts in the past that she shouldn’t be worthy of Waverly’s concern. But she acts so different from the other Revenants. Her smiles are too bright and her eyes too warm. That afternoon after Shorty’s funeral, she had been so gentle with her touch while trying to comfort Waverly. And what kind of Revenant sulks in their apartment, waiting for the Heir to come finish them off?
A sharp gasp interrupts her thoughts and Waverly looks down to see Nicole’s eyes have opened and her skin has returned to its normal rosy hue. The gasp is followed by a groan, and Nicole rolls onto her side, away from Waverly. A fit of coughing overtakes her and Waverly rubs her hand over Nicole’s back to provide some form of comfort. The coughing fit passes and Nicole’s body shudders under Waverly’s touch.
“A century of sobriety, right out the window,” Nicole mutters before she pulls herself into a sitting position.
“Feel better?”
Nicole shakes her head. “Killer hangover.”
Waverly rolls her eyes and shoves her into the couch. For a moment, Waverly feels like they’ve returned to how they were before Nicole’s secret slipped out. They’re just Waverly and Nicole, not an Earp and a Revenant. Then Nicole’s eyes flicker to the door behind Waverly and the moment is ruined.
“Wynonna’s not here,” Waverly says, and Nicole drops her gaze to her lap.
“Oh.”
“I didn’t tell her,” she continues. “I um… I couldn’t do it.”
“Kinda seemed like you had planned to on the phone.”
Waverly shrugs. “How else was I supposed to stop you from calling her on your own before I got here? If you thought she was on her way, you wouldn’t have a reason to try calling her again.”
Nicole sighs and runs her hand through her loose hair. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you should be,” Waverly says. “And just so you know, just because I haven’t told Wynonna doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you already.”
“Didn’t really expect you to,” Nicole says. She looks up from her lap and studies Waverly for a moment before she asks, “Why didn’t you tell her?”
And Waverly has so many ways she could answer: She’s curious about why a Revenant would give up so easily; she needs to know who Nicole used to be in case the curse isn’t broken; or, the simplest answer, she’s grown too fond of Nicole to let her go so soon.
“You’d be way more useful alive than burning in Hell,” she finally says. “I can’t watch my sister’s back all the time and you’re damn near immortal. You’d be a killer bodyguard.”
“So you didn’t tell her because you wanted a demon as some kind of pet?”
Waverly shakes her head. “More like… I dunno… A friend, I guess.”
“Really?” Nicole asks, her eyes wide in disbelief. “You’d still want that?”
“Really,” Waverly says, “but you’re buying when we eventually go get those coffees.”
“Deal.”
She smiles at her so brightly then that Waverly can’t help but think there must be some kind of mistake. Nicole can’t be a Revenant. Not with a grin that still makes Waverly’s heart flutter in her chest.