Shadowlight

“Then let me dream. I enjoy it.” He walked across the kitchen and opened something. “Here is the money. Go early, before she wakes. See your friend William while you are out.”

Aware she could be discovered eavesdropping, Jessa silently retreated back to the bathroom, where she showered and considered what she would do.

Rowan would have to leave through the hatch door Jessa hadn’t yet found, and since she believed that was the only way out it was imperative that she shadow Rowan in the morning. Rowan had been waking at six a.m., so if she left early, she’d go at five a.m. Jessa would have to get up earlier than that—four a.m. would probably be best—and then find a vantage point near Rowan’s bedroom where she could stand watch and then follow the girl as she left in the morning. Since Matthias was no longer watching her, she might even have a chance if she were careful to see how to open the fire doors, and possibly follow Rowan up to the surface.

The sole drawback was the fact that she hadn’t yet been able to search the library, where she was convinced Matthias was keeping whatever records he had on the Kyndred. She needed to do that today so that she could leave in the morning with a clear conscience. That meant coming up with an excuse that would allow her to spend at least an hour alone in the room.

Being in the shower reminded her of the pool dream, and she thought about every moment of it. Jessa couldn’t understand why she kept dreaming of being with Matthias, but it was starting to get under her skin now. Somehow she was becoming obsessed with him—and she was never more aware of it as when she pulled herself out of her thoughts and discovered she hadn’t noticed that the water of the shower was now running ice-cold.

She dried off, dressed, and went in search of Matthias. She found him in his exercise room, where he was working out with the stone disks she had seen during her first night of captivity. As before, he didn’t stop lifting the heavy stones as he spoke to her.

“You were a long time bathing,” he said, balancing two of the heaviest stones on the palms of his hands before he extended his arms forward and out. “Do you prefer cold water to hot?”

“No, I just got a little lost in my thoughts,” she lied. There was no way in hell she was telling him about the dream, ever, so she focused on the excuse she’d invented. “I’ve been trying to keep an open mind and make sense of all this at the same time. I was wondering, would you let me look through all the books you have about the dark Kyn?”

“You cannot read Latin,” he reminded her.

She covered her dismay with a rueful smile. “True, but you said some of them were written in other languages. I went to school in Europe, and I can read French, German, and Spanish.”

He put down the stones, straightened, and turned to her. “You also said you do not believe in vampires.”

“I don’t,” she agreed. “What I’d like to do is look through the books and see if there are any other clues as to what these people might have really been.” His expression seemed doubtful, and she added, “I know they mean a lot to you. I’ll be very careful with them, I promise.”

He studied her expression. “Very well. I will meet you in the library in an hour.”

She eyed the stones. “You lift those things for an hour? No wonder you’re so …” Embarrassed now, she stopped.

“Ripped,” he said. “That is what Rowan calls it, even though I never tear anything.” He put his hand to the center of his chest. “It is good for the body and the heart.” He picked up the smallest of the stone disks and offered it to her. “Try.”

“No, I’ve never lifted weights. I’d probably tear something. I prefer to swim to keep in shape.” Jessa turned to hide her embarrassment and headed to the tunnel. “I’ll see you in the library.”

“Jessa.”

She stopped.

“If I could give you back your life,” he said softly, “I would. Even if there were no place for me in it.”

She closed her eyes, enduring the rush of emotion his voice tugged from her heart. He sounded so lonely she almost turned around and ran to him.

“You can’t,” she said, her voice breaking on the last word as she left him. I can’t.

Chapter 14

Sam woke up near twilight to find herself alone in the bed. Usually she was the first to rise at night, but since Bradford Lawson’s killing spree Lucan had been waking early and going out with the jardin trackers every afternoon. They were hunting for the killer’s trail, sometimes until dawn, but so far they had been unsuccessful.

Something went wrong during the first night they went out, but Lucan wouldn’t tell her what it was.

Sam didn’t like it, but she had her own priorities when it came to homicide suspects, and she began building a case against Lawson. It might have been difficult to obtain the information she needed, but Kendrick had proved invaluable in that department. That evening he delivered to her copies of police reports, witness statements, and preliminary autopsy results on all of Lawson’s victims.

“This is amazing,” Sam told him. “It’s everything I need. How did you do this so fast?”

“We have made very good friends among the local authorities as well as the FBI,” he said. “They will help us as much as they can.”

Even Lucan’s tresora, Herbert Burke, would have been hard-pressed to assemble such a complete file. “Could I bribe you to move down to Fort Lauderdale and go to work for us?”

“I’m quite flattered, but I’m afraid I must refuse.” The tresora smiled. “Once we pledge ourselves to our lords, the oath we take to serve is for life.”

She grinned. “I hope Scarlet knows how lucky he is.”

After seeing through her ability just what Bradford Lawson could do to a human being, she had called down to Fort Lauderdale to notify Garcia and her partner of a change in plans, and asked them to send up another officer to transport Grodan so she could focus on finding Lawson.

“He’s escalating very fast,” she told Rafael. “Each murder is more brutal than the last.”

“Lawson might be one of these Kyndred Lady Alexandra is searching for,” Rafael suggested.

“We won’t know until we find him. And I know we’re supposed to make nice with them and bring them over to our side, but that’s not going to happen with this guy. He’s turned into a killing machine, and I don’t think he’s going to stop until he finds this Jessa Bellamy.”

“I find that unlikely,” Rafael said. “Jessa Bellamy is wanted for murdering Bradford Lawson.”

Sam went still. “What?”

“Ask Kendrick for a paper,” he suggested. “It is front-page news across the country.”

After she ended the call, she obtained a newspaper from the tresora and read the headline story. According to the reporter covering the story, second-degree murder charges had been filed against Bellamy after she attacked Lawson at a popular downtown restaurant. Hospital officials claimed Lawson died of his injuries several hours before he murdered Ted Evans.

“This is utter garbage,” Sam told Kendrick. “Lawson was alive when he went to GenHance that night. He was alive when he left.”

“It may be that the authorities are trying to locate Ms. Bellamy in order to secure her as a material witness, or place her in protective custody,” the tresora suggested.

“When we do that, we generally don’t first charge them with murder.” She thought for a moment. “See what you can find out about this Bellamy woman, and where she might have run to.”

Unfortunately Lucan was not as forthcoming with what he learned while out hunting for Lawson. Every morning her lover returned, grim and withdrawn, and placed several calls to some of the other American Kyn lords. He always spoke to them in one of the old languages that she didn’t understand, and when she asked he told her only that they were discussing territorial matters. Then he would go down to the training room for an hour and return to drop, exhausted, into bed.

Sam didn’t like it, but she held back from confronting Lucan about the situation. Whatever it was, he was taking it very personally.

Instead, she did what she could by spending her time at the various crime scenes and collecting all the information she could on Bradford Lawson. So far she’d uncovered several complaints of battery filed by former girlfriends, all of whom later dropped the charges, and a violent attack on a personal trainer who turned out to be a dealer specializing in performance-enhancing drugs. She had reached a couple of the girlfriends by telephone, but the moment she said Lawson’s name they hung up on her. The personal trainer had dropped out of sight after being discharged from the hospital. Three of Lawson’s former victims had abruptly moved out of the state and then disappeared as well, although there were no indications of foul play or missing-persons reports filed. It was as if they didn’t want to be found again.

Tonight she was hoping that Kendrick had discovered some new information on Jessa Bellamy, the woman accused of murdering Lawson the day before he began his killing spree.

She went down to Kendrick’s office on the first floor and found the tresora speaking in low tones to one of his staff. Both men abruptly ended the conversation as soon as they saw her, and the tresora invited her in as the other man left.

She eyed the thick folder on Kendrick’s desk. “Has there been some new development in the case?”

“A body was just discovered near the interstate,” he said, taking the folder and opening a drawer to put it away. “It may or may not be connected to the other murders.”

She nodded toward the folder. “Shouldn’t I have a look at it?”

Kendrick’s expression turned troubled. “I don’t think that would be a good idea, my lady. The crime scene photos are quite graphic.”

“I’m a homicide detective, Ken,” she reminded him. “I’ve seen it all and then some.”

He still didn’t give her the file. “It would be better if you first discussed this with Suzerain Lucan.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">