by Laken Cane
“Our woman,” Clayton said, then his legs buckled as he passed out.
“No,” I cried, and started toward them, as though maybe I could catch Clayton before he slammed to the ground. But I needn’t have worried. Rhys simply caught the other man, tossed him over his shoulder, and jogged to his car.
Shane was rushed past me on a gurney, his face pasty white, eyes closed. Head wounds were a son of a bitch.
Miriam appeared at my side. “Go with him, Trinity.” She took my arm, her brow furrowed. “He needs someone to make sure they behave.”
“They’ll take good care of him,” one of the cops told her, giving her an admiring once-over. “He’s human, isn’t he?”
Both Miriam and I glared at him, and I was sure he had absolutely no idea why we were being unfriendly.
The other cop cleared his throat. “Ms. Sinclair, there are car guts all over the highway. We’re going to need you to—”
“I’m going to the hospital,” I interrupted. “I’ll come to the station tomorrow.” If I was still alive tomorrow.
I put my hand to my stomach when I realized I had only a few hours before I had to go to the island, and I was going to have to go there alone. Shane would be in no shape to make the trip.
And I had no car.
Miriam hurried away without so much as a goodbye.
“God,” I said, my voice thick. “Things sure can go to hell in a hurry.”
Then Frank Crawford was striding through the crowd toward me, scowling. “Sinclair,” he called. “If I ever need to find you, all I have to do is go where there’s trouble. You’ll be right smack dab in the middle of it, every damn time.”
My lip trembled—I could feel it. And then, to my embarrassment, I burst into loud, messy sobs. It was funny, really. Maybe someday I’d laugh about it.
Maybe.
“Oh hell,” Frank muttered, then cleared his throat and patted me on the back. “What happened?”
“I’ve been trying to get her to explain since I got here,” one of the cops said. “She won’t cooperate.”
I wiped my eyes and got control of myself. “Another demon. He’s looking for something. Before he left, he blew up my car. Shane…” I had to stop my clipped monotone when tears threatened again. I blew out a short breath, then hurried on. “Shane and Clayton were injured. I don’t know how badly. I need to go to the hospital to see to Shane, and then I have to go to Byrd Island. And I don’t have a car.” I sniffed, then gave a watery laugh. “It’s been a hard day, Captain.”
He sighed. “Come on. I’ll take you the hospital to see Copas and we’ll figure out the rest. I can lend you a car to get to the island.” He took my arm and hurried me away from the scene. “Why are you going to the island tonight?”
“I was told to go. I’ll let you know if anything comes of it.” I didn’t meet his questioning stare. “I can’t say anything more.”
He opened the car door and ushered me inside, then walked around to get behind the wheel. “Time is running out for Madalyn. My people can’t find a trace of her. It’s like she vanished into thin air.”
“That’s what it feels like to me, too.”
“The demon you faced,” he said, changing the subject to one no less grim. “What does he want?”
I hesitated, unsure how much to tell him. Finally, too afraid to trust him with Clayton, I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
We rode the rest of the way in silence. I sank down into my seat and closed my eyes, silently praying that both Shane and Clayton would survive the demon’s wrath.
Chapter Nineteen
“He was very lucky.” Shane’s doctor crossed her arms and then, as though uncomfortable with standing around doing nothing, took a black penlight from her pocket and shone it into his eyes.
He turned his head away, then flinched at the sudden movement. “Both of you get the hell out of here and let me sleep.”
I beamed at the doctor. “He’s feeling better.”
Her smile was rueful. “I’m afraid he’s not going to be feeling better for a few days. Please let us know if you have further questions.” Then she marched from the room.
I leaned over with the intention of kissing Shane’s cheek, but his lips were more tempting. I pressed my lips to his, lingering when he slid his fingers up my arm and held me there.
Finally, I pulled away and straightened. “You scared me,” I murmured.
I couldn’t see what lay beneath the bandages wrapped around his head, but traces of blood still stained his skin.
His eyes didn’t seem to completely focus when he looked at me. “Don’t go to the island without me.”
I wasn’t going to argue with him. I’d lie if that’s what he needed me to do. I squeezed his hand and nodded. “We’ll go when you’ve recovered.”
His eyelids fluttered then slid over his eyes, and he drifted into sleep. I stared down at him, a sudden surge of protectiveness swelling inside me. And not just protectiveness, but possessiveness.
The hunter was mine.
And he was okay with that.
Smiling, I made sure the phone was close enough for him to reach, checked his IV line, then poured him a glass of water just in case he woke up thirsty.
Finally, reluctantly, I left the room. I had a long night ahead of me. I hoped Shane wouldn’t do something stupid like try to follow me to the island when he realized I had gone.
The captain sat in the waiting room, drinking a cup of coffee, his eyes half closed. He didn’t seem to get a lot of sleep and I wasn’t sure if that was because he was always working, or because he was an insomniac. Likely, it was a little of both.
He stood when he spotted me, stopped to toss the coffee into the garbage, then walked with me from the room. “How is the hunter?”
“He’ll survive.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and called Rhys. “Clayton doing okay?” I asked when he answered.
“The doctor patched him up.” He hesitated.
“Shit,” I muttered. “What is it, Rhys?”
“Clayton isn’t uninjured. He’s in rough shape.”
“I’m aware of that.” I strode with Frank from the building, relaxing a little as soon as we were outside. I grabbed a lungful of the fresh, fragrant air. I didn’t do well in hospitals.
“Miriam is aware of that, as well,” Rhys said, something dark in his voice. “And to her, his injuries are just another way to make him suffer.”
The captain didn’t try to pretend he wasn’t listening. He peered at me when I stopped walking, his eyes narrowing. “What is it?”
“I’ve had it.” My voice was calm but my insides were shaking. “No more.”
“I didn’t want to lay this on you, Trinity,” Rhys said. “But you’re the only one with a chance at stopping her. And Clayton…”
“Clayton has suffered enough.”
“Yes. He has.”
I turned to Frank Crawford. “Can you give me a lift to Bay Town?”
“I told you I’d lend you a car. Let’s go get it.”
“I’ll meet you at Miriam’s house in half an hour,” I told Rhys.
“I’ll be there. How’s Shane?”
“He’ll live.”
I wasn’t sure what I expected from Crawford, but when he drove to his house and lifted the garage door to reveal a small, blue Prius, I was surprised.
He shrugged. “It’s a good little car. You’re welcome to it.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Doesn’t seem like your style.”
“It was my wife’s.”
I didn’t want to ask, but he told me anyway.
“She died two years ago. Cancer.”
“I’m sorry, Frank.”
“I’ll grab the keys. You want to come inside?”
He lived in a white two-story a few blocks from the police station, and despite my anger at Miriam, I was curious. But I really didn’t have time. “I should get going.”
I waited beside the little car while he went in to fetch the keys
, my stomach churning with impatience and anxiety. It wouldn’t be dark for another three hours, but I was pretty sure it was going to take a hell of a lot longer than that to handle Miriam Crow.
Crawford was back in two minutes with the keys. “You be careful, Sinclair.” He held onto the keys for a couple of seconds before letting me pull them from his grip. “Call me if you need me.”
“I will.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
When I arrived at Miriam’s little cottage, Rhys was already there. He climbed out of his gorgeous car when I pulled in behind him.
“Whose ride?” he asked.
“It belonged to Crawford’s deceased wife. He…” I shrugged, then looked at the house. It reminded me of a tasty little gingerbread house. It was brown, yellow, and pink, and very cute on the outside, full of wicked darkness on the inside. Just like Miriam.
“What’s going on in there, Rhys?”
“Bad shit, sweetheart.”
I squared my shoulders. “Then let’s go make it stop.”
“Trinity.” He took my arm “You have to take control of her. She’s a demented little girl behind that pretty facade. You have to make her your little girl. Do you understand?”
I nodded. Then, “No.”
“She already responds to your dominance. You’re a bloodhunter. But you can’t be playing. If you want to save Clayton you need to handle her. You can’t hesitate and you can’t let her see your fear.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will.” He put his finger on the doorbell but didn’t press it. “I wouldn’t interfere but he should be in the clinic. The doctor wanted to keep him and Miriam came in there and forced him out. And he would be okay. He would. But Miriam was fucked up, honey. And I got a bad feeling.”
“She won’t kill him.”
“Maybe not. But there are worse things than death.”
“You care about him,” I realized.
“I’ve known Clay for a long time. He’s a good guy.” He leaned forward until his sexy, full lips were close enough for me to kiss. “Besides, if she kills him, you won’t be the same. I don’t like seeing you in pain.”
“What are you, Rhys?” I asked.
I thought he might kiss me, and I wanted that kiss because it would make me forget everything else for a minute. And I needed a minute.
He didn’t kiss me. He straightened, then turned to press the doorbell. “We can’t kill her. In spite of everything, she’s one of us. And she’s troubled.”
I frowned. “I don’t want to kill her. I’m not a murderer.”
“And you can’t free Clayton from her influence. Only she can do that, and she will not.”
“She will if she dies.”
“We don’t know what will happen to him if she dies. He may die with her.”
I sighed. “Then why are we here, Rhys?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “To stop his pain. To give him a minute free of terror. To be a friend, Trinity.”
We could be his friend all day long, but Miriam was never going to stop hurting him. I wasn’t sure why Rhys thought this time should be different.
Until I got inside that house. Then I understood everything.
And I changed my mind about not wanting to kill Miriam.
Chapter Twenty
Miriam answered the door herself, which surprised me—I sort of expected Clayton to open the door, possibly naked but for bandages and a dog collar.
She stared at us from dark, dead eyes, her face paler than usual, the trailing ends of her long, blonde hair dripping blood. Her arms were stained with red up to her elbows, and though I wanted to believe she’d simply neglected to clean up after she’d wallowed all over Shane at the accident, I knew whose blood covered her.
I inhaled it, and I recognized it.
She wore different clothes—black leggings, white top, sandals—and splashes of blood decorated them like painted-on flowers.
“Why are you here?” Her voice was as dull as her eyes. “Did Shane die?”
I glanced at Rhys, my mouth suddenly dry. I’d never seen her so…lackluster. “Shane will be fine. Can we come in?”
She held on to the door. “You’ve never visited me, Trinity.”
“No.”
“Why are you here now? I’m busy.”
I forced my face blank and emptied my eyes. “We’re coming in. Move aside.”
She seemed to perk up a little. She stared at me, a tiny spark lighting her eyes. She looked from me to Rhys and back to me, and finally, she backed away from the doorway. “Of course. Come in, my friends.”
The interior of the house tried to be as cute and bright as the exterior, but it didn’t succeed. It was too heavy and dark. And cold. I shivered and began to long for the sun, though earlier I’d wished only for darkness.
But not the kind of darkness inside Miriam’s home.
She led us to a small living room. “Sit down.”
Rhys sat on the sofa but I hesitated. I was grimy, and my clothes were crunchy with dried blood. I’d washed my hands and face in the hospital bathroom before I’d gone in to see Shane, but that was all the cleaning up I’d had time to do. Finally, I sat gingerly on the edge of the sofa, hoping I wouldn’t ruin it.
“Why are you here?” Miriam asked, again. “I don’t mean to be rude, but…” She gestured. “You caught me in the middle of something.”
“We’ve come to collect Clayton.” Rhys shot me a look, but I ignored him. “You said I could borrow him.”
She frowned and tilted her head quizzically, and if I hadn’t known her I might have thought she was a bright, pretty, harmless woman. But I did know her and I couldn’t be fooled by her bland innocent appearance any more than I could be fooled by Rhys’s.
They were both dangerous as hell. The only difference was that Rhys had none of the tortured madness Miriam possessed. I had a feeling she had her good days and her bad days, and we’d walked into one of her bad days. One of her very bad days.
“Borrow him?” she asked. “What do you mean?”
“I’m going to Byrd Island tonight. You remember--the old man with no name has sent me there. You offered Clayton as backup. With Shane out of commission, I need Clayton more than ever.”
She put her stained fingers to her lips. “Fuck, I’d forgotten.” Then she focused on me once more. “Rhys can go with you. Clayton is not well. He was injured, you know.”
I leaned toward her. “Rhys can’t go. They know him there, and it’s dangerous for him. You promised me Clayton and I am taking Clayton.”
Her stare was sharp and suspicious. “I know what you’re doing.”
I clenched my fists. “And I know what you’re doing. Are you ashamed to let me see him?”
She stood. “It’s my right to do whatever I please, Trinity, and I am ashamed of nothing.”
I stood as well, Rhys right beside me. “Then take me to Clayton. I’ll patch him up, Rhys will give him some painkillers, and he can back me up on the island.” I softened my voice. “You don’t want them to kill me, Miriam.”
She continued to stare at me, something close to hatred in her blue eyes. “Today I might want them to. Today I might want to do it myself.”
I swallowed. My mouth was dry, I was shivering, and my stomach knotted with fear. But I refused to let her see any of that. I looked down at her, then pointed to the doorway leading out of the living room. “Take me to him.”
“I am not—”
I shot out my hand, grabbed her throat, and squeezed. “I’m not leaving without him.”
Her eyes widened and she clutched my hand but made no attempt to pull it away. “And if I won’t?” Her voice was breathless and her pulse pounded against my fingers.
I put my face close to hers. “You will.”
Finally, she shrugged. “Fine. You can borrow him. You can’t take him from me. It’s not possible.”
“No, it isn’t,” I agreed. But we both knew if she hadn’t
held him by force, Clayton would not have been hers.
“Then I will lend him to you. I’m not worried. But if you don’t have him back before dawn, I’ll call him home. Do you know what will happen to him if I call and he can’t come?”
I followed her down the hallway, my heart pounding. “No, Miriam.” I wondered if my voice sounded as hollow to her as it did to me.
“If he’s in cuffs, he will gnaw off his own arms to free himself. If he’s locked in a cell, he will smash his body into a bloody, broken piece of meat to escape. No matter where he is or what he’s doing, when I call, he will come.”
And then she shoved open the door at the end of the hallway and had Rhys not been there to catch me, I would have collapsed to the floor.
He held me too tightly, and when I looked up at him, his eyes were as horrified as I knew mine had to be.
“Rhys,” I murmured.
He was unable to tear his stare from the scene inside the room. “What?”
“We were both wrong.”
He looked at me, finally. “About what?”
“She’s not one of us. And I am a killer.”
I would talk to Clayton. If he wanted to die, I’d give that to him. And I’d kill Miriam to do it.
Miriam walked farther into the room, trailing her fingers over various ugly pieces of equipment and furniture. She glanced over her shoulder, once, proud. “Well, come on, then. He’s all yours.” Then she waggled her finger. “But only for tonight.”
“That’s all I’ll need,” I said.
And finally, I allowed myself to really look at Clayton.
Miriam’s golem. Her slave. The object of more hatred than I could conceive of. Even my hatred of Amias, after what he’d done to my family and to me, could not touch Miriam’s. And there was a very good reason for that.
She was a crazy motherfucking monster.
I’d wanted to like her. I’d pitied her. I’d felt a strange sort of responsibility for her, and I’d been grateful when she’d defended and protected me.
But now that I was being force fed her depravity, her horrible cruelty, I could no longer hide from the truth. I would have to kill her. She did not deserve to live, and Clayton, no matter what he’d done, did not deserve to suffer.
