Death had surrounded her for so long, and he made her feel alive.
She sat up, wondering what time it was. She knew William was down below, resting in his room. He'd told that he would rise at sunset.
How many more hours until sunset? How much longer until she saw him again?
Her clothes were neatly folded on the settee at the end of the bed. William must have brought them, perhaps when he'd carried her upstairs. She slipped on her jeans and her rumpled pullover and walked toward the balcony. With a soft push, she opened the doors and let in the sunlight and the crisp mountain air. The scent of pine tickled her nose.
She looked up, trying to gauge the sun's location. It was already starting to sink into the western sky. In another hour or two, it would be dusk.
And William would rise.
She couldn't believe that she'd slept so long. She usually rose early, especially since she'd started having the dreams. Turning from the balcony, she stepped back into her room. It was such a beautiful day, and she knew she wouldn't see many more sunlit days. Soon, she would only see the night, so she'd better enjoy the light while she still could.
Her shoes were arranged on the floor beside the settee. She hurriedly put them on, then combed her hair and secured her mane in a loose bun at the back of her head.
She walked back out onto the balcony. The forest stood before her, the pine trees swaying gently. She moved toward them eagerly, a slight bounce in her step.
Birds chirped a soft melody. A light, happy melody. Her lips curved faintly as she caught sight of a cardinal soaring near the treetops. At that moment, she realized that something was missing. For the first time in over five months, she hadn't awoken with her usual headache. Instead, she felt strong, refreshed.
Alive.
She smiled, contented. She felt good. For the first time in so very long, she felt good.
She walked along an old trail, strolling easily through the woods. She wondered how long the tress had been there. Some of them were old and twisted. Stretching high into the sky.
It was so beautiful on the mountain. So peaceful. So—
A twig snapped, the sound echoing like a shot. She spun around, her hand rising instinctively to her throat. She couldn't see anyone. “Is someone there?»
The forest was eerily still. Even the birds were silent.
Savannah frowned. Maybe it had been an animal. A raccoon. Then again, maybe it had been something else. Someone else.
She took a step back, her eyes scanning the thatch of woods. She couldn't shake the feeling that someone was there, watching her.
Her heart pounded. She retreated another step and stumbled into something. Into someone. A hand grabbed her shoulder, and she spun around, kicking out with her right foot. He grunted, his arms shooting out to catch her body in a tight grip.
She opened her mouth to scream, and his hand slammed down over her lips, silencing her before she could even make a sound.
«I'm not here to hurt you,” he whispered, his voice fierce. “I came to help.»
Savannah blinked, staring up in shock at the man before her.
Jack Donovan stared down at her, his jaw clenched. “I promise I'm here to help you.»
She shoved his hand away from her mouth. “Sure you are.” Her gaze was full of suspicion as she studied him.
He took a deep breath. “Look, lady, I think you're in serious danger.»
She crossed her arms over her chest. She really wasn't in the mood to listen to him attack William again. “I told you William wasn't involved. He didn't kill anyone!»
Jack didn't respond.
Savannah glared at him. He'd followed her into the woods, terrified her, and now he was still blaming William for the murders—even though she'd told him that William was innocent. She pushed past him, heading back to the house. She wouldn't listen to any more of his lies.
«Wait!” He hurried to catch up to her. “Dammit, would you just stop?»
She kept going.
He grabbed her elbow. “Please, stop and listen to me.»
She jerked her arm free. “I don't want to hear anything you have to say. Why don't you just go back to town?” And get the hell away from her.
«I can't leave you here.»
She glanced back over her shoulder, a sneer curving her lips. “Sure you can. Just get back into your car, crank it up, and drive down the mountain. I'll be fine.»
«No! You don't understand—” He ran an agitated hand through his hair. “I'm trying to help you!” There was an almost desperate edge to his words
It was the desperation that stopped her. She turned back to stare at him, her eyes narrowed. “William isn't the killer, Mr. Donovan. I told you that already. I'm not in any danger from him.»
«It's not William that I'm worried about,” Jack said.
«What?»
Jack looked around the woods, his gaze darting frantically to the left and right. The setting sun sent dark shadows drifting through the forest. “Look, can we go inside? We really need to talk.»
Savannah hesitated.
«I'm not going to hurt you,” he promised. “I only want to help.»
«What about your client?»
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I'm not working for him anymore.»
Savannah's brows snapped together. “Then what are you doing here?»
«I told you, I'm here to help you.»
«Why?»
His lips thinned into a small line. “Because I think I've just arranged your murder.»
* * * *
William could feel her. Something was wrong. She was afraid.
He lay perfectly still on the bed. Not a single muscle moved. Yet his mind raged.
Something had happened. Savannah was in danger.
The evil was growing closer once more.
* * * *
Savannah locked the balcony door behind Jack. “Okay. We're inside. Now say that again.»
He exhaled heavily and dropped into a nearby chair. “I've screwed up.»
«How?” He was starting to scare her, and she didn't like to be scared. She clenched her hands. “What have you done?»
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Remember when I told you that my client's brother had been killed?»
«Yes.” His words still echoed in her mind. All of the blood was drained from his body. Her neck tingled.
«I called a buddy of mine on the Panama City force. He gave me the victim's name. Peter Gilbert.” Savannah paced, listening intently to his words as he continued, “That matched up with what I'd been told. My buddy confirmed the victim had one brother, a man named Jonathan.»
«And Jonathan was your client?»