Jonas leaned toward Rikki. "He came tonight?"
"It wasn't the first time," Lev answered for her. Rikki seemed incapable of speech, a low, strangled sound emerging from her throat. He found her weighted blanket and tucked it around her. She managed a small grateful smile. "He was up on the ridge watching the house about a week ago. I found where he'd been playing with fire. And then the other day, we came in using the back road and found he'd been studying the layout of the farm. I think he contacted the Realtor selling the property next to this one."
"You didn't think to call me then?" Jonas asked. His tone was mild, but he gave Blythe a look that was definitely a reprimand.
Lev shrugged. "Rikki needed to be able to come to a decision herself."
He kept his face in the shadows as he spoke, and he kept his face slightly averted from Jonas, presenting few defining features. His fingers settled around the nape of Rikki's neck, easing the tension out of her. She was trying, he had to hand her that. He could tell she was following the conversation instead of retreating into her head, but it took a great deal of effort. She kept her hands under the weighted blanket and he knew her fingers were twirling, a compulsion she couldn't stop when agitated.
"And tonight?" Jonas prompted.
Blythe took up the story. "Rikki always keeps the doors of the house open when anyone she loves is with her. As you can see, when we designed the house, we made certain that with the doors open you can see completely through the house to the outside, front and back. Levi realized the arsonist was out there and went out to confront him."
"You didn't call me right away, Blythe?" Again it was a reprimand. Quiet, but the man was very annoyed. "All of you could have been killed."
Blythe, usually composed, looked away, color staining her cheeks.
Rikki stirred beneath her blanket, her dark eyes going nearly black. "She would never go against my wishes. I was afraid to call you." Her chin tilted. "I haven't had much luck getting cops to believe me."
Jonas nodded. "I can understand that, Rikki. I found a few things in those reports that seemed to be overlooked. I was afraid this man would find you."
"You knew about all of this?" Hannah asked.
He took her hand as he nodded. "Blythe told us about buying the farm with five other women and..." He shrugged.
"You investigated them," Hannah concluded.
"Of course." There was no apology.
Lev liked him for that. He would have done the same thing. "What was overlooked?"
Jonas brought Hannah's hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles before releasing her. "Timing for one thing. Her burns were severe in the first fire. She was hospitalized for weeks and then needed special care because she was so traumatized. She wasn't anywhere near her houseboat when the fire consumed it and killed her fiance. There were several witnesses who saw her down at the harbor cleaning a boat."
Rikki pressed her hand against her mouth and rocked, speaking behind her trembling fingers. "I was late. It was the first time he'd ever been to my houseboat. I get focused on something and I don't notice time passing." She sounded distant, as if she was far away from them. "I should have been there. He was waiting for me. I didn't realize what time it was until one of the divers asked me where he was. We usually cleaned the boat together, but he wanted to shop for food for dinner." She looked at Jonas with shocked eyes. "I don't cook."
Jonas nodded. "It's all right, Rikki. I read everything carefully and made notes. I looked them over before I came, that's why we didn't get here right away. I think he searches for you and when he finds you, he plans out his fire and then takes action. It took him a while to find you after the first fire. You went from the hospital to a care-taker and then to a foster home. When he found you, he tried to kill you with the same method as before. You were able to alert the family. The couple as well as their son all said you'd saved their lives, but the investigators were suspicious because you were unable to answer their questions satisfactorily. There were a few gaps in your story."
A tremor ran through Rikki. Blythe stirred, but Jonas sent her a sharp look.
"I'm filling in the blanks with my own guesswork. You were traumatized after losing your parents. Being autistic and needing routine, another fire must have sent you spinning again. You probably were incapable of answering questions."
"They should have known that," Blythe said in a low, angry tone.
"I agree." Jonas kept his eyes on Rikki, obviously judging her abilities to cope with his narration of her past.
Rikki moistened her lips and swallowed hard. "I'm fine. I just want him caught."
"Again he lost track of you, and I suspect he was growing angry, and that he continued to start fires, although probably not so public ones. I had my brother-in-law check for me and there were several suspicious fires in the city where you grew up. Abandoned warehouses. An empty store. Two dilapidated houses, again empty. Several grass fires. I think he was practicing. Waiting for you and biding his time, keeping himself amused."
It made sense. Lev had had the same thoughts even without the information. Rikki's stalker would never be truly happy without his mistress--fire. He would need her, and the need would grow like a craving for a drug until he couldn't resist and he would succumb to temptation. The cycle would repeat itself over and over. If he had managed to kill Rikki, he would still never be able to stop, although it was likely he told himself that he would.
"He found you a third time, and again, you somehow managed to save the family and everyone got out alive."
Rikki shook her head and a small sound escaped. She began to slowly rock. "Not everyone."
Jonas frowned. "Everyone got out, Rikki," he assured her.
"Not the dog. Not their dog." She grew more agitated, flapping her hands now, a sure sign she was headed for a breakdown.
Lev crouched down in front of her, uncaring what the others thought. Look at me lubov moya, see only me. You're safe with me. If you want to end this, we will. I'll make them all go.
Her dark eyes found his, and this time, it was Rikki that might have been drowning. She looked frightened, and when he touched her mind, he realized she feared retreating in front of their company more than anything else. This was her home, her haven, and she'd set things up so she could live as comfortably as possible. He took both her hands very gently in his.
It occurred to him that both Hannah and Jonas spoke in low, gentle voices. They had known coming into the house that Rikki was autistic and needed her environment to be as soothing as possible. Jonas had not told his wife about Rikki's past. Lev was certain Hannah knew Rikki was autistic from her cousin.
"Do you need to take a break, Rikki?" Jonas asked. Lev could have kissed the man. He showed respect for her. Addressed her, not Blythe or him. She blinked several times, took a deep breath and, still looking into Lev's eyes, shook her head.
"I'm all right." She mumbled the words, but they were audible in the silence of the room.
Lev moved back behind her, his hand gripping hers, his thumb moving along her wrist.
Jonas resumed talking. "You were safe in the group facility because they kept moving you and he could never know for certain where you were. I can't imagine that he didn't try looking and he was probably frustrated. Based on that theory, we looked up the years when you were between sixteen and eighteen, when you were released. There was a cluster of fires, arsons, and this time the homes were occupied."
At her gasp he shook his head. "The families were away at the time he started the fires, but their houses and everything in them were destroyed. He needed something to feed his addiction. It was growing."
"And he blamed Rikki," Lev said. "Why?"
"That's the burning question, isn't it?" Jonas said. He looked at Rikki. "Any ideas?"
She frowned. "I've tried to figure that out." She looked at Lev. "We both have. We've gone over and over this. I was thirteen when he attacked the first time, and honestly, even at school, I had an aide. I couldn't manage the l
ights and noise very well. I mainstreamed, but it was very difficult. I could get extremely violent when someone crossed me."
"Did you ever start a fire?"
Jonas dropped the question so gently, a skilled surgeon with a scalpel, slicing through to the very marrow of the matter.
Lev felt Rikki stiffen in outrage. He touched her mind and found blind fury. She jerked her hand and he had the feeling she might fly at the man, taking his question as an accusation. He tightened his fingers around her wrist, shackling her to him, although the others couldn't see.
He is trying to get a rise out of you. Take a breath. He's testing you, using a classic interrogation method. Don't react. Think before you speak and then tell him the truth.
Aloud, without taking his gaze from Rikki's, he addressed Jonas. He kept his tone low, velvet soft, but it was a warning--the only one he intended to give.
"You can't use tactics like that on Rikki. Her world has been a nightmare and she doesn't react as others usually do."
"Jonas," Blythe began.
Rikki turned her head and for the first time looked Jonas in the eye. "I could never start a fire." She shuddered. "I can't have a gas stove, because I can't be around an open flame. As a child, I would become violent and hit my head on the floor. It would be impossible for me."
"And yet, you thought you were responsible." Jonas leaned forward. "In your statement, after your fiance died, you said maybe you were somehow starting the fires subconsciously. Why would you think that?"
Her teeth began to chatter and Lev couldn't take any more. "We're done here," he said, making it clear that he was ending the interview and that he was in charge. If Jonas persisted, he would be dealing with someone other than Rikki. "Rikki didn't start the fires and she may have been traumatized enough in the past to entertain the idea, but she knows better now. He was here. I saw him. The evidence is outside this house."
Jonas's cool blue gaze slid over him, but he merely nodded.
"This man not only loves fire, he needs it," Lev said, changing the direction of the investigation. "You're going to find him in a job that allows him to be around fire all the time."
Jonas nodded. "I believe you're right. He's hiding in plain sight. Now that he's found her, he isn't going to rest until he finishes what he started."
"He's hurt," Lev said quietly. "His face is torn up a bit. Probably bad enough to need stitches. He'll lay low until he's healed and can cover the scars."
Jonas straightened slowly, his blue eyes going diamond bright. "You tangled with him?"
Lev shook his head. "No, I was too far away and the fire was between us. He shot at me, but I saw a couple of owls drop down, maybe defending a nest, but they came in hunting and his face was raked. I heard him scream."
"So there's a blood trail."
"Yes." Lev could tell the sheriff was thinking that over, watching him closely now, curiosity open on his face, but he didn't demand to know why an owl would fly from a tree and attack Rikki's stalker.
"Let's go see," Jonas pushed himself out of the chair.
18
JONAS stepped off the porch with casual grace. Lev had seen his kind hundreds of times over his years in the shadows. Jonas Harrington was far more than he let on. He was a big man, but he moved with fluid grace. His knuckles and hands had seen combat. He carried his weapon as though it was part of him. He had a holdout strapped to his calf and a knife in his boot. He didn't speak as Lev led him away from the house to the blackened circle surrounding the house.
"He planned it well. He soaked the ground fast, very fast, with an accelerant," Lev began.
As he turned, a fist flew at his face. Jonas was fast and it was a surprise attack, but Lev managed to slam a block hard into his forearm, deflecting the blow to step inside and deliver a hard one-two punch to the sheriff's gut. Hitting the man was like hitting an oak tree. He grunted, but didn't fold, nor did he draw a weapon.
"I'm going to give you the beating of your life, you son of a bitch." Jonas spat the words at him, a low, controlled, rage smoldering in his tone.
Lev didn't reply. He had no idea why the sheriff would want to give him a beating, but as skilled as the man obviously was in hand-to-hand fighting, his training could not compare to Lev's.
They circled one another, two grim warriors, eyes cold, faces determined. Jonas exploded into action, driving in with a hard front kick, which Lev deflected, but as Jonas stepped into him, the sheriff threw a hard straight punch that grazed Lev's jaw as he pulled his head out of the way. The blow, despite only being a graze, was hard, the force behind it appalling. They moved in and out of each other's space, trading blows and blocks, as well as the occasional kick. Lev kept it light, uncertain what the beef was. He could kill Jonas, fast and efficiently, but he would lose Rikki and his haven.
As they fought, one thing became very clear to Lev--Jonas Harrington had seen combat, but he was no killer. He could fight, but he didn't have the kill instinct. There was no doubt in Lev's mind that he was capable if there was need, but he didn't have the lack of emotion needed to be a killer. Jonas Harrington was fighting because in his mind, Levi had done something to deserve a beating. Lev, on the other hand, had slipped back instinctively into his training. He saw a dozen opportunities to kill the sheriff and planned--and dismissed--each one in his mind. Coolly. Calmly. Without emotion.
"You might want to let me know what this is about," Lev suggested during one of the moments when they'd broken apart.
Jonas wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and spat out a mouthful of blood. "My sister. Elle Drake, you bastard. You let that son of a bitch rape her."
Lev knew the name Drake, but not an Elle Drake. He remembered names and faces. The blow to his head had erased things for a while, but his memories had come back in pieces. He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I have never met Elle Drake."
Jonas had been moving into the attack and that stopped him. He stood, his cool eyes on Lev, while he dragged air into his burning lungs. "You're a Prakenskii. I'd know those eyes anywhere. You're Ilya's brother, and you were on that yacht. Hannah and Elle wouldn't recognize you because they weren't expecting you, but Ilya told me you were guarding that bastard Stavros."
Lev remained silent. He did have a brother named Ilya--the youngest of them--torn from his mother's arms by men in masks, as she screamed and begged them not to take her baby.
"Elle was working undercover and your boss kidnapped her."
Lev's stomach lurched. He remembered her. He'd tried to get her off the yacht when he realized Stavros's intentions to take her. They hadn't known she was working undercover, but she had psychic power and Stavros was determined to use that for his own gain. Stavros was as dirty as they came with fingers in everything from gun running to human trafficking. He was also buying defense plans. Lev's job had been to work his way into the organization and become a trusted member in order to get the full scope of Stavros's operations and find those supplying him with the women, the guns and the secrets--mostly the secrets.
Lev had been close, but he hadn't gotten the job done. And then the ship had gone down, killing Stavros, leaving Lev without his answers and years of work wasted. And a chance at life, away from making decisions about who lived, who died, who was left alone to meet a fate of torture, of sexual servitude so someone could find answers and shut down an entire network.
Save the individual? Or the masses? He'd never allowed himself to think too long on those questions. He was a tool, nothing more, to be used and discarded. He remained silent, closing his mind to the roar of pain for the unanswered questions, for the nameless faces of individuals he'd left behind. The killing had never bothered him. He'd been molded and trained and programmed for that. But the victims... That had been much more difficult to shove behind a locked door in his brain.
He let Jonas have his shot. A hard right to the jaw. Pain exploded through his already damaged head. He shook it off, sidestepped the second blow and held up his hand. He could feel the ad
renaline flowing hot and bright, the rush of power moving through his body, and knew his eyes were arctic cold, gleaming with repressed fire. He breathed away the instinct to kill, never taking his watchful gaze from the sheriff's.
"You get one free because I couldn't find a way to save her. But being civilized is new for me. I have instincts and they aren't just going to go away. You come at me again and I'm going to put your ass hard into the ground, and then your ego is going to kick in. Right now you're angry. I accept that. But don't be stupid. If you know my brother, you know what I'm capable of."
He hadn't seen Ilya since they'd ripped him from their mother's arms. All of the boys had fought to get him back--the guns, the fists, the smell of blood and death in their nostrils. No, he wasn't going to apologize for his life. Not to this man who could never understand. Rikki could accept Lev's sins. He had every confidence in her, but he wasn't asking for forgiveness from anyone else.
"You want to help me find the bastard trying to kill Rikki, or should I do it on my own?"
Jonas slowly straightened, his expression hard. "Do you think this is finished? That I'm just going to let a killer into my town where Elle's going to have to live with seeing you every day?"
"She'll be the first to tell you I was doing my job," Lev said quietly. "You don't have to like it and neither do I. It's evident you've seen combat. Are you telling me no innocents ever suffered because you had to carry out your mission?"
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Making a choice to live. I'm Levi Hammond and I intend to make my life here."
Jonas shook his head. "I don't believe you."
"You don't have to believe me. Only Rikki has to believe me. On the other hand, I will find this man threatening her and you'll never find the body if you walk away from this. I had a choice whether to involve you, and I chose to let Blythe make the call. Levi Hammond's history doesn't have a single hole in it. In a few days people will start to vaguely remember him. I can have a life here. I'm not willing to give that up because you don't like what I did."
Jonas never took his eyes from Lev's face and Lev could feel the power in the man, the energy swirling around him. Harrington had a few secrets of his own. Lev remained still, allowing the man to make up his mind.
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