Ray sipped her wine while Gerri glowered over her beer and Kinsey sat with her eyes downcast, picking at her salad. It was hard not to sigh and prod them both, lost in their own little worlds. So much for their usual girl dinner of laughter and stress relief.
At this rate, Gerri wouldn’t be the only one who needed a therapist.
“Ladies,” she said, finally raising her glass, refusing to let a little thing like murder ruin her night. “A toast. To catching killers.”
Gerri grumbled but clinked her bottle against Ray’s glass while Kinsey offered a slight, nervous smile and did so more delicately.
“Honestly, Gerri,” Ray said. “I don’t know what you’re so worked up about. You caught the killer. Did your job yet again for the good people of Silver City.” Maybe she’d drunk too much wine too quickly for her own good. But the two grouses at her table hadn’t made her night any brighter. And the half carafe of cabernet sauvignon went down oh so easy.
Gerri glowered. “You sound like the captain,” she said.
Well, there was a compliment if ever Ray heard one. “Do tell.” She rolled her tongue around a sip of the rich, black cherry flavor that burned the roof of her mouth with smokiness.
Kinsey winced as Gerri shrugged. “I tried to tell him there was more to this, but he told me to mind my own damned business and if I didn’t have enough work to do, he’d find more cases for me to solve.”
Ray snorted into her wine, while Kinsey made a warning face, though with a hint of a smile pulling at her lips. It was funny, damn it.
“And what about you, my brilliant blonde friend?” Ray saluted Kinsey with her glass. “What amazing and wonderful truths did you uncover in your adventures today?
Kinsey’s hesitation finally snapped Ray’s good mood.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said, not meaning to be rude, but honestly, what was with these two.
Kinsey’s lips tightened as she muttered into her wine. “Simone asked me to join the Collective.”
Ray’s jaw dropped, like the bomb Kinsey just laid at her feet. But no more so than the sudden fury and fear on Gerri’s face.
“You said no, Kinsey.” Not a question. “Tell me you said no.”
Kinsey’s shrug sobered Ray up faster than a pot of black coffee. “Why did she ask you to join?”
The blonde’s ponytail shivered as she shook her head, brow furrowed in sudden temper.
“Why wouldn’t she?” Kinsey stood, tossing a handful of bills on the table. “I have to go. You two have a nice night.” Gerri spluttered, half-rose to go after her, but Ray held her back.
Damn it, this wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.
“Leave her.” Ray sighed, leaning closer to Gerri who emptied her beer and slammed it down on the table.
“Fine, whatever. If she wants to be an idiot and get wrapped up in that crap, she’s welcome to it.” Gerri stood as well, slinging her jacket over her shoulder, more money falling to the table. “I’m going to hit the gym and see if running a few miles gets the bad taste out of my mouth. See you, Ray.”
And, just like that, she was alone in the busy bar. Ray emptied her glass, reached for the carafe, surprised to find it empty after all. A soft hiccup caught her off guard, tears stinging her eyes.
She hated being alone, especially when she was drinking. And her friends, the two people closest to her in this bitter, cold world, abandoned her. Ray pushed her chair back, hands clenching in her lap, the alcohol hitting her again after her brief moment of clarity.
Well, bollocks. To hell with them both. Ray’s eyes traveled the bar, looking for their server. She’d pay the bill, go home, drink some more wine. Maybe watch a maudlin movie and cry herself a good one.
When her eyes met those of a stunning brunette at the end of the bar, Ray froze. She knew the type, liked her immediately. Small, slim, delicate. Asian influence to her appearance, though more Caucasian than not. Tiny bow mouth, high cheekbones. The woman smiled back as Ray’s gaze lingered.
And rose from her stool, coming to the table. The scent of jasmine washed Ray in a gentle embrace as the woman hesitated next to her, delicate hands grasping a glass of wine and a clutch purse.
“Is this seat taken?” Sweet voice, nice teeth and beautiful skin. And, it turned out, Ray had just enough to drink she didn’t see the woman’s death superimposed over her lovely complexion.
Maybe she wouldn’t have to be alone tonight after all.
“Please,” Ray said with a smile and a gesture to the server for more wine. “I’m all yours.”
***
INT. – COLLECTIVE OF ALL SOULS OFFICE – NIGHT
Gideon pulled the top of the heavy tome of the Holy Bible he’d bought at a private market in Marrakesh, fingers lingering over the leather of its cover. The contents he cared nothing about, but the wrapping held great appeal.
Such a clever use of human skin.
Monique quivered next to him, clutching at the gold urn in her hands while the bookcase wall slid apart, revealing the door of his private safe. There were times it was difficult to maintain this charade of caring when all he really wanted was for her to hand over the remains of her son and get the hell out of his office.
Appearances. They had to be upheld. For now, at least.
“Now, my dear Monique.” He spun the triple dials, the tumblers falling into place before he entered his private code in the digital lock, one last scan of his iris necessary to open the door. “I know how hard this has been for you. How trying the last twenty years.” His voice dripped honey, his power exuding as much caring and empathy as possible. He was rewarded with her tiny, brave smile. Oh, how darling.
“Thank you, Grand Prophet,” she said. “I’m grateful you’ve agreed to keep Denis here, safe from harm.”
“Of course. Anything for you, Monique.” He would have preferred the young man’s full form, not the urn full of ashes. Curse her for having the boy cremated. Had he known, caught it in time. But he’d trained her himself to fear her son’s paranormal form, hadn’t he? And she’d acted as Gideon taught her, swift and decisive, despite himself. He really had to be more careful what he taught in the future.
Hopefully the result would be the same. Since he’d planned to drain the boy’s blood and ingest it, perhaps doing so with the dust of his remains would be just as potent. Only one way to find out.
After. There was a mother to soothe.
The vault within yawned before them, walls lined with silver drawers, all numbered neatly, each with its own lock and specific combination. Couldn’t be too careful. Not all of the membership were to be trusted.
Gideon paused at the center of the room, where a glass case housed items that would make Kinsey drool. He barely saw them, the canopic jars and stone tablets engraved with a language long dead to the world, spoken now only by few.
And he was one of the few. How desperately he felt Kinsey’s need to understand. And she would. He would see to that. When he owned her at last.
Gideon turned and opened his big hands, leaning on Monique with his power. She kissed the gold urn, so very touching, before placing the container in his grasp. He made a wonderful, solemn show of placing it in the glass case, stepping back and bowing his head to finish the act.
Too clever by far for his own good. It would certainly ruin everything if he broke into giggles.
“This, as well, I ask you to protect.” Monique retrieved the necklace from inside her jacket and handed it to him. He took it with as much false reverence, though it meant nothing to him. A powerless trinket placed in a precise moment to lure Kinsey closer. Perhaps Simone would like to have it.
“I shall keep it safe for you, my dear,” he said. “As I keep us all safe. You’re doing the right thing, leaving Denis here.” He nodded to the urn, finding it harder and harder to keep up his act, the desire to laugh at her gullibility so powerful he had to cough into one hand, hide his glee behind grief. “His ashes are as dangerous as his living body was. They must
be guarded, so they can’t be used against you or the Collective.”
Except, that was exactly what Gideon intended.
Monique sobbed once. “You warned me, my union with his father was too risky. I didn’t believe you. Not until I found him again.” She pressed both hands to her mouth. “He was so perfect, so powerful. And he had no idea.” Her wide eyes flooded with tears. “They told him nothing, hid from him what he was.”
They did indeed. The Sonnickers. How the hell they hid the boy from him for so long… right under his nose. Gideon almost had him. The young hacker had been easy enough to purchase, though he shouldn’t have relied on her loyalty. If it weren’t for Natalie Street’s greed and her father’s incompetence... Gideon had destroyed his favorite cigar box when he found out the girl had known of Denis’s location for months and was blackmailing the Sonnickers. Blackmailing them. When greatness hovered just outside Gideon’s reach.
He’d deal with them both soon enough. Her especially, for killing the boy. While their human flesh would reap little power, Gideon would enjoy eating their souls nonetheless. His dervish heritage demanded nothing less. Demon or devil, let the myths frighten children. The reality was far, far worse.
Gideon composed his face into a sorrowful but supportive expression.
“They fooled us all,” he said, fake sorrow vibrating in his voice. “Had I only known he lingered here, under my very nose.” Gideon closed the distance between them, embraced Monique. She hugged him in return while he took the opportunity to influence her with more of his power, sealing her closer to him. Not that he needed her anymore. But she was his and had been for so long, he didn’t want something as ridiculous as her grief to free his little pet from his grasp.
She might be useful later after all.
Constance appeared at the vault door, dark eyes locked on Gideon.
“Ah, Constance.” He released Monique, gestured toward the door. “Please, make sure our guest is comfortable in a suite downstairs.”
“Thank you.” Her weeping really was becoming irritating. Gideon managed one last smile before Monique left, Constance baring her teeth at him, showing her true face for a flash of a moment before the old harpy was gone.
She might have been an ugly, ancient bitch, but she was loyal.
Heart thudding with excitement, Gideon turned back to the glass case and the urn. Only to find Simone standing on the other side, the golden pot in her clever hands.
Too clever. A roar built in his chest, the press of his fury ready to erupt. But she just smiled at him, her power pushing against him, smothering his magic as he’d smothered Monique. With a grunt of rage he couldn’t contain, Gideon backed down.
For the moment. But Simone’s days of thinking her his equal were almost over.
“You really didn’t think I’d allow you to keep these, did you?” She balanced the urn in the palm of one hand, smiling that fucking irritating and smug smile she always had for him. “The ashes of an angel might not be as potent as his flesh and blood, but…” Simone laughed. “Thank you for this.” She tucked the prize into her purse, walking around the case as casual as you please, narrow hips swaying as she strutted on her high heels toward the vault door. He glared at her, flames burning in his gaze, the dervish in him ready to pounce. Until she turned around, with another slick smile.
“What would Monique Entremande do, I wonder, if she ever found out you were the one who stole her precious Denis away from her in the first place?” Simone paused. “That the Sonnickers gave up everything to save him and hide him from you?” She laughed, soft and cruel. “I’ve invited Kinsey to join the Collective. It’s imperative you make her feel welcome. I must have her in place before Margot returns to Silver City.” Another pause, a wink. “There’s a good boy.” She wiggled her fingers at him in farewell, leaving Gideon impotently watching her go.
One day the bitch would make a mistake. And he would be ready.
(CUT TO BLACK)
###
Next time on The Nightshade Cases…
When a woman’s tortured body is discovered in an abandoned warehouse, Gerri and Ray can’t help but think it might be a weird case. With Jackson Pierce stirring trouble against them, can they solve it without Kinsey’s help?
Episode #4: Shelter, is now live!
The countdown continues…
Shelter
Exorcized
Try Dying
Booty Call
Death Song
Zoology101
Teacher’s Pet
Panic Room
Bad Shoot
Sicko
Federali
Witness
The Hit
Mimic
The Maze
Haunted
Splish Splash
Divided We Stand
Don’t miss a single episode of Season One! Sign up for new release emails at www.bit.ly/pattilarsenemail.
***
About the Author
Everything you need to know about me is in this one statement: I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was a little girl, and now I’m doing it. How cool is that, being able to follow your dream and make it reality? I’ve tried everything from university to college, graduating the second with a journalism diploma (I sucked at telling real stories), was in an all-girl improv troupe for five glorious years (if you’ve never tried it, I highly recommend making things up as you go along as often as possible). I’ve even been in a Celtic girl band (some of our stuff is on YouTube!) and was an independent film maker. My life has been one creative thing after another—all leading me here, to writing books for a living.
Now with multiple series in happy publication, I live on beautiful and magical Prince Edward Island (I know you’ve heard of Anne of Green Gables) with my very patient husband and six massive cats.
I love-love-love hearing from you! You can reach me (and I promise I’ll message back) at [email protected]. And if you’re eager for your next dose of Patti Larsen books (usually about one release a month) come join my mailing list! All the best up and coming, giveaways, contests and, of course, my observations on the world (aren’t you just dying to know what I think about everything?) all in one place: www.bit.ly/pattilarsenemail.
Last—but not least!—I hope you enjoyed what you read! Your happiness is my happiness. And I’d love to hear just what you thought. A review where you found this book would mean the world to me—reviews feed writers more than you will ever know. So, loved it (or not so much), your honest review would make my day. Thank you!
Stolen (Episode Three: The Nightshade Cases) Page 11
