Aza pointed a lazy finger at him, still staring into his eyes. The edges of his vision were beginning to blur, leaving only Aza and her bright blue eyes. “This was your mistake, don’t make it mine.” She slid her legs over the side of the bed and faced him directly. “I never asked you to stalk me. I am what I am. I serve my purpose as it is. No more, no less. Your pain is your own. Your suffering is your own. I am merely a tool of destiny.” Aza popped off the bed. The slap of her bare feet echoed off barren walls, loud like gunfire. “The question you should be asking, DS Anderson, is what are you doing? Don’t you wonder why you are so drawn to me? Why you’ve welcomed me into your life. That’s the question you should be asking.”
Jake shot up out of his chair and stood in place, clenching fists at his side, fighting not to kill Aza. He hated her. Deep-rooted hate and anger urged Jake to act. His rational mind was winning out, but it wouldn’t hold forever.
“No,” he said. “It that what this has been? Payback for my watching over you? You went after my daughter. You went after my son. This ends here.”
“There are no such things as endings, happy or otherwise. No beginnings and no ends. It’s all make-believe to keep our heads from exploding.”
Jake took a step forward, now within striking distance of Aza. As small as she was, she stood tall, seemingly unperturbed by Jake looming over her, quivering with rage. “I am going to personally see to it that you end up back in a cage.”
“You really are full of yourself, aren’t you?” Aza asked, eyes burning ever brighter. Jake couldn’t look away. He couldn’t see anything else. “Again, focusing on entirely the wrong thing. I’d be disappointed if you mattered at all to me. But you’re just another arrogant asshole who thinks he’s more than he is.”
Jake’s entire body was shaking. Sweat ran into his eyes, but he couldn’t look away.
“You made a mistake coming in here,” Aza said. “I mean, I knew you would, but still…”
Jake tried to speak, but found his jaw clenched shut, and he couldn’t loosen it.
Aza grinned, leaned toward Jake, looking up at him, and said, “By the way, your son screamed like a little bitch when—”
Jake punched Aza in the face and grabbed her before she could fall away from him. He shook her and snarled in her face. “You fucking bitch,” he tried to say, but the words came out as a wet slur of bestial noises.
Aza’s nose retched blood, but she was smiling. Her eyes were still focused on his, even as he violently shook her. “Sometimes bad things just happen,” she said, holding up one of her hands. In it was clutched a call button, linked to her hospital bed.
Jake roared and tossed Aza back toward the chair he had been sitting on. She crashed into and over it. Jake followed close after. He couldn’t stop. His body was not his own. Even his mind was pleased with the bloodshed, pleased with the violence. But deep within the nebula of raging hatred, Jake screamed for a reprieve. This was not how things were supposed to go.
Jake slid the chair aside and backed Aza into the corner. Her face was awash in blood, her hospital gown torn. And still she smiled. Still her eyes burned like beacons, calling him into an abyss that he knew would never let go.
Then it crumbled, her smile, the brightness of her eyes, her entire expression. She began wailing, crying, and pleading.
“Oh my God,” a familiar voice said from behind Jake.
At once, the energy in Jake’s limbs vanished, nearly taking him down to the floor. With it went the rage. Turning around to witness a trio of hospital employees and Jaina, Jake was left with only one thought. He’d been had.
“Jake?” Jaina called from the hallway.
Jake looked at her, but couldn’t summon any response.
He lost sight of her a moment later as two security guards stormed into the room. They dragged him roughly from Aza’s room and pressed him against the wall. Handcuffs slapped on his wrists, the cold metal sending a jolt of feeling up his arms.
Jaina pushed against the officers. “Jake?” she asked again, as if it was an actual question. As if she couldn’t be sure that he was Jake anymore. It was a question he couldn’t answer either.
Chapter Seventeen
Sunday 4:30 p.m.
Aza stared at the nurse seated next to her bed. The nurse stared back. Aza had gotten the woman to sit against her will, but now all she did was stare. Aza tried to remember what she’d done to DS Anderson, the waitress, Daphne. But she hadn’t done anything more than she was already doing. Emotions were the key, she knew. Changing them, making them stronger.
“Don’t you want to hit me?” Aza asked, still maintaining as much control over the nurse as she could.
The nurse smiled sweetly. “Why would I do that, dear? And don’t you worry, that man will not hurt you again. Officer Bartum is in the hallway and I’ll stick close to you as well. You’re safe now.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Aza said.
Aza growled and released her tenuous hold on the nurse, falling back into her hospital bed. Maybe DS Anderson had knocked something loose when he’d clobbered her. She’d known it was coming, but it still hurt like hell. Her nose was all wonky now and a splitting headache came and went. She’d broken her wrist as well, when he’d tossed her across the room. There was no denying the discrepancy in their sizes, but even Aza hadn’t expected such brutal strength. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed it.
“Is something the matter, dear?” the nurse asked. “Are you in pain?”
“Not enough,” Aza said, staring at the ceiling instead. It’s where the thing was. The dark, sinister thing. The beautiful, powerful thing. It had just appeared, as it seemed to do. There one minute and gone the next. Now it was watching her, and Aza couldn’t help but think it was displeased.
“It’s been a hard few days for you, I understand,” the nurse continued. “And I’ll say it again; I’m here for whatever you need. If you would like to talk, we could start with your name. It would be helpful to know who you are. We could call your family—”
“No,” Aza said.
“Oh, well, all right. I shall leave you in peace for a bit. Don’t hesitate to use that buzzer if you need me. Oh, and tomorrow morning you’ll be having visitors. One is a social worker and the other a detective. They’ll make sure you’re taken care of after you’re discharged.”
“Oh joy,” Aza said. She knew it would never get that far. They’d already taken her fingerprints.
“Get some rest, dear,” the nurse said as she stepped out of Aza’s room and shut the door behind her.
Aza pointed a finger at the thing on the ceiling. “Oh, now you show up? Just to watch me screw up with that bitch. Listen, I could have made her dance the cha-cha and throw herself out the window if I’d really wanted to. Where were you when I made DS Anderson my own personal puppet?”
The thing shifted, moving just a foot closer to the door. It hung like a fog, black as sin, and just as tempting.
“Gah, you’re impossible!” Aza said to the thing that never responded. “What good are you?”
Aza shut her eyes and stewed. There was a very real possibility that she was losing her mind, just as her father had. She knew all too well how that felt. Aza shuddered and pulled the thin hospital sheet toward her chin. She was running out of time.
A knock sounded at the door.
“For fuck’s sake!” Aza yelled, eyes still squeezed shut.
The handle clicked. “Sorry to bother you,” the nurse said. “But you have a visitor.”
Aza groaned and sat up, opening her eyes. “Morning already?”
The nurse wrinkled her nose. “Don’t be silly. I was just here a moment ago.”
The dark thing slid across the ceiling and began to slowly creep its way down the wall, next to the door, near enough to strangle the nurse if it had a mind to and was capable of such a thing. Aza was capable, but frankly, she didn’t have the energy. Another time, perhaps.
“If you’re not feeling well, I’ll have her come b
ack another time. In any case, she seems to know who you are, so that’s helpful. It’d be nice to figure out who you are without all the policework.”
Aza’s heart picked up a notch. The dark thing crept around the door frame, draping the opening in bad intentions, vulgar ideas, and the scent of death.
“No, I’m fine. Send her in. Alone,” Aza said. Whoever it was that thought they knew her, Aza would not have them speaking to anyone else but her. She was in no physical shape to kill, but that had never stopped her before.
The nurse nodded, turned to a figure out of sight and gestured toward Aza. Dani Anderson stepped into Aza’s room.
“Tra—”
“Dani!” Aza shrieked with genuine surprise.
The nurse smiled at Aza and softly closed the door.
“I saw you through the window,” Dani said, gesturing at the large viewing window that showed into the hallway. The blinds were only half drawn. “What are you doing here? Are you sick? Hurt? Oh my God, look at your nose. And your arm! What happened? Car crash? Bike accident? I fell down the stairs once and—”
“Dani!” Aza shouted again.
Dani stopped talking and adopted a sheepish look. “Sorry. I was just excited to see you. I’ve just been sitting in a waiting room all day with my mom. And she won’t leave me alone.”
“Is your mom in the hallway?” Aza asked.
Dani shook her head and sat on the end of Aza’s hospital bed. “She started flirting with the doctor, so I ran off. I just needed to get away from her. Gah. And she won’t tell me where my dad is. I can’t even call him since she took my phone.”
“What a bitch,” Aza said with a smile.
Dani looked up and smiled as well. The dark thing had pooled on the floor at Dani’s feet when she’d first walked in, but now it slithered up the side of the bed. Aza doubted that Dani could see it, but Aza could hardly look away. She imagined the thing to be smiling, too.
“So, where did you go after the whole thing at April’s? I don’t remember seeing you,” Dani said.
Aza shrugged. “I left. Just wandered for a bit, I guess.”
“Is that when you got hit by a car?” Dani asked. “Or was that from your fight with April? I don’t remember her getting any shots in. Ha!”
Aza didn’t respond immediately, puzzled by Dani’s words. Dani seemed to remember the night like Aza did, with it having been Aza that beat the living shit out of the bitch, April. But the aftermath didn’t match up. There were bits and pieces flashing in her mind as she tried to make sense of it. Aza had attacked April. Aza had beat her senseless. But then, the other girls intervened and dragged Dani off of April. Aza shook her head. How had they changed places? Buried in the shadows was the truth, but she couldn’t see it.
“Tragedy?” Dani asked.
Aza gasped, but quickly collected herself. “I—sure. Yeah, there was an accident,” Aza said. As strained as Dani’s relationship with both her parents was, Aza didn’t think she had anything to gain by telling her the truth, even if she knew what it was. Aza needed to keep Dani close. The dark thing would stay if Dani did, Aza hoped. It seemed to like Dani, as far as Aza could tell. And, together, Aza could hone her power. Kill again. And become unstoppable. The truth wouldn’t matter after that.
“My brother’s here,” Dani said, looking away. “Well, half-brother, but whatever. He’s a detective and someone set him on fire.” Dani’s smile vanished and tears silently ran down her cheeks.
“Really?” Aza asked. “You don’t remember…”
Dani wrinkled her face. “Huh? Remember what? Anyway, Mom says he’s going to be okay, but what does she know? She’s not even his mom, so fuck her. And I can’t even see him. I’m his sister.”
“Half-sister,” Aza said, unable to resist.
“Same difference.” Dani sniffed and wiped at her face. “Shit,” she said. “Ugh. Stop crying, you little bitch.” Dani cleared her throat and turned back to Aza. “Anyway, how long do you have to stay here?”
Aza fought back a huge grin as the dark thing wrapped itself around Dani like a cloak. “We’re leaving soon.”
“Who? Oh! Your grandpa? So, he’s okay, then?”
“No idea. Might be dead.”
Dani frowned. “Uh, that’s a little creepy. Who’s picking you up then? You said you didn’t have any other family.”
“You and I,” Aza said. She was done playing games. It had been fun when she was a child, but she was more now.
“Uh…”
“Dani, you and I are leaving. I can’t tell you where we’re going, but you are going to help me get stronger.”
Dani slid off the bed and backed away a step. “Are you serious?”
Aza climbed from the bed, wearing nothing but a hospital gown. The tile floor was cold. It welcomed her footsteps. The dark thing towered over and around Dani. There was no doubt now. Dani was important. Whether to Aza, or merely to the continued torture of DS Anderson, she couldn’t say, but one thing was certain: Aza would not let Dani escape her.
The door opened and the same ever-cheerful nurse appeared. Aza had never been more sickened by her appearance. “Can I get you two anything?” she asked.
The dark thing shifted like a beast picking its head up at the arrival of an easy meal.
“Dani,” Aza said sharply. “Remember that night at the Millers’. Remember what I told you.”
Dani flinched and rubbed at her temples, showing her bruised and cut knuckles.
“Is everything okay?” the nurse asked, stepping toward Dani and letting the door close behind her.
“We are joined,” Aza said. “Deeper than friendship, closer than blood, our bond courses deeper than Hell to run in a darkness that no one but us can see!”
Dani pinched her eyes shut and bent over.
The nurse bent over as well, bringing her head close to Dani’s. “Dani, is it? What’s the matter?”
Dani groaned and shook her head, still bent double. Her hands became claws against her head, knuckles white.
“We have a connection,” Aza continued. She didn’t understand it herself, but there was no denying what her and Dani could do together. DS Anderson’s daughter was the key to unleashing Aza’s true potential. “In darkness, we are all the same, yet it will be our name they know.”
“Dani?” the nurse asked again, this time placing her hand on Dani’s shoulder.
Aza felt the touch like her own shoulder had been grabbed. It burned.
“No,” Dani said quietly. The dark thing was everywhere around them, swelling, reaching, obscuring the room, but clarifying what was to come.
“I’m sorry?” the nurse asked.
Dani brought both her hands up, slapping aside the nurse’s arm. The nurse reeled and Dani lunged. She grabbed the nurse by the neck and took her to the ground. The dark thing of mist and shadow parted as they landed on the tile floor with a muted thud. Dani perched on the stunned woman’s chest, throttling her. Aza felt the mad rush of desire and joined in, adding her own hands to Aza’s, embracing the pain in her fractured wrist. Together, they bore down, quickly cutting off the woman’s air. The nurse floundered, but Aza and Dani kept their grip, squeezing tighter and tighter.
Dani snarled and gnashed her teeth as the nurse began fading. It was taking far longer than Aza had anticipated, and for that she was grateful. She never wanted the moment to end. Seconds became minutes.
The nurse’s eyes began fluttering and she feebly swiped at Dani and Aza’s hands.
Dani leaned close, putting her lips to the nurse’s ear. Aza mimicked the movement, leaning to the nurse’s other side. She caught Dani’s eyes across the dying woman’s brow. Aza grinned. Dani smiled, but her eyes were distant and empty. Dark as night and bottomless. The thrill in Aza only intensified.
Just as they choked out the last bit of life from the nurse, Dani parted her lips, and said, “My name isn’t Dani. My name is Tragedy.”
Chapter Eighteen
Monday 9:30 a.m.
/> Jake hated irony. And staring out of the same holding cell he’d personally tossed countless criminals into over the years really rankled him. Luckily, most of the cells were singles and he was alone. He’d shouted, cursed, and punched the iron bars until his knuckles bled, but they’d left him. The whole night had been a blur. Like trying to see an image at the bottom of a silty pool. Had he been given a phone call? Where was Jaina? Peter? Was he still alive?
“Hey!” he shouted, gripping the bars again.
He’d slept. Or, at least, he must have. He remembered waking up, delirious, but still enraged. And his chest hurt more than ever. Jake scratched at his ear and yelled again. He could still feel her. Like a spider wandering through the passages of his skull, he could feel Aza.
His lips were dry and his throat burned from shouting. It had to be Monday, counting the meals he’d been brought. And the sun was up, which meant they had to come for him shortly. Jake used to love letting detainees stew over a weekend. He liked to imagine them squirming as they waited for human contact. Jake screamed again, but fell to coughing. It was futile, he knew. Even when he’d first demanded to have an audience with DS Grimly—that self-righteous bitch—he knew he was wasting his breath.
But he could still feel her. Whatever she was. Aza. It made him want to tear his flesh off.
It was his fault. Despite all the fucked-up shit he knew Aza had done. Despite all the impossibilities of her, deep down, he hadn’t believed it. She unsettled him, sure, but when he’d stepped into that hospital room with her, all he saw was another psychopath. Another murderer, waiting to be locked up. Waiting to confess. He couldn’t begin to rationalize or even explain what she’d done to him. As soon as they’d locked eyes, it was as if he’d fallen straight into a nightmare. All he had felt was searing rage, hatred, and violence. And he’d enjoyed it. Every blissful second of giving in to that primal instinct. He couldn’t remember ever being so…happy.
The familiar sound of the hallway door unlocking and opening brought Jake back to some semblance of normalcy. It was followed by the sound of a single set of boots, likely military issue, likely high and tightly laced, with a pronounced heel. Likely worn by an uptight, no-nonsense, self-diluted, power-hungry—
Dear Tragedy: A Dark Supernatural Thriller (House of Sand Book 2) Page 13
