That occasion was the one and only time Jackson made the mistake of letting anyone else know about how he treated her. He’d learned his lesson. After that he made sure he only ever hit her inside their home and only in places no one would spot the marks—the lower back, in the kidneys. He’d even branded her with the metal on a lighter, on the inside of her thighs. She still carried the scars.
The memories made her cringe. She was still so ashamed. How could he do all those things to her—things he did to her—yet she was left ashamed and embarrassed, dirty even?
“The prints must be old,” she said, going for the only rational explanation, wondering why the police hadn’t picked up on the obvious.
He shook his head. “They were definitely new. The prints were partials but unmistakable.”
Dread settled on her shoulders like death itself stood behind her, hands weighing her down. “They must be old,” she said again, her voice barely a whisper.
“The prints were in the blood of the victims, Mrs. Hathaway. There’s no possibility of them being made any time other than either during or shortly after the murders.”
Her nostrils flared, her eyes burning with tears. Her hands tightened on the edges of the table, her knuckles turning white. The interview room swam away for a moment.
It was impossible, but she could never tell the detective as much. Someone had made a mistake.
“You can’t think Jackson killed them?”
“We’re not sure what we think right now. Given that he owns the property, there’s a good chance he came back and contaminated the scene. After all, no one saw anything and this is the first time any prints have been found near the victims.”
“So you think you’re dealing with the same murderer as the one who’s been killing all those people in Angeles Forest. The same one who killed that girl the other day?”
The detective nodded. “The profiles match the same killer.”
“Jesus.”
Yet the news brought her some relief. Jackson committing all of those murders was impossible. Someone hadn’t been doing their job properly and had made a mistake.
She sighed. “I don’t know what more I can tell you. The Bainbridges were good tenants and I have no idea why someone would do something so terrible to them. As for Jackson, I doubt he’s back in the city. Even if he was, I don’t think he’d be capable of murdering total strangers. The man was a horrible bully, but he was also a coward.”
Detective Gingham studied her face for a moment and she forced herself to stare back.
“All right,” he said. “That’s everything for the moment. If you see or hear anything from your husband, you’ll be sure to let us know.”
“Of course.”
Serenity pushed back her chair and stood. She felt numb from the waist down, as though her body didn’t quite belong to her. Still, she forced herself to move, her face a mask of stability. She didn’t want them to realize how much the accusations against Jackson affected her. Though it was only natural for her to be shaken up after being told her abusive husband was back in town and had possibly murdered two people in cold blood, she only felt guilty and was terrified they’d read that exact emotion on her face.
James also stood up and reached across to open the door for her. Pleased to escape, she hurried from the room. James turned and said a few words to Detective Gingham, before following her out.
“You need a lift?” he asked as they walked down the corridor, toward the front doors.
Serenity glanced at her watch, almost two-thirty in the afternoon. The day had disappeared. She was due to pick Elizabeth up from preschool in a half hour.
“That’s okay,” she said. “I can catch the bus. I should make it on time.”
“Let me drive you. You came down here on police business, the least I can do is give you a ride.”
“Well, since you insist.”
Serenity followed him out of the door and around the back of the building to James’s car.
As they drove across the city, James sat silent beside her.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, turning to take in his profile as he concentrated on the road.
“I just don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head. “Jackson made your life a living hell for years and yet you still stand up for him.”
Serenity’s mouth dropped open. “I didn’t stand up for him!”
“Then why are you so insistent he didn’t commit those murders? The man has a history of abuse and violence, and his fingerprints were found in the victim’s blood. You don’t know what he’s been doing these past four years—he might have completely lost the plot—but you seem absolutely certain he didn’t hurt the Bainbridges.”
Serenity glanced away, her cheeks burning. She could never admit the reason for her certainty, but she didn’t want the police to race off on a wild-goose chase, literally chasing ghosts, when the real killer was still at large.
“Is there such a thing as a wife’s intuition?”
James raised his eyebrows.
“Okay, okay,” she said, giving in. “Maybe Jackson did murder all these people, but I’m allowed to have my opinion, aren’t I? I knew him better than anyone else. Yes, the man was a bullying bastard, but do I think him capable of attacking and murdering two strangers? No, I don’t. He was a coward. He beat me because he liked the control. Simply murdering two complete strangers for no reason doesn’t seem like his style.”
James fell silent for a moment and then spoke. “It’s hard not to believe evidence when it’s right in front of your face.”
“People make mistakes,” she said, no longer sure if she meant the police forensic work or herself.
Chapter Eight
The tension simmered between them even as they picked up Elizabeth.
The little girl couldn’t believe her luck as she scrambled into the back of the police car.
“Can we put on the siren?” she asked excitedly.
“Sorry, kiddo,” said James. “Not allowed to unless it’s an emergency. Police rules.”
Serenity tried to ignore the curious stares of the other parents. Something of an enigma among them, she rarely got involved with the gossip that occurred outside the gates, though she remained friendly and polite for Elizabeth’s sake. She’d never want Elizabeth to be excluded from birthday parties and play-dates purely because her mother was unsociable. Even so, the hole left by Elizabeth’s father felt like a black mark above her name.
She was grateful Elizabeth was too young to find out what had happened to her tenants. Elizabeth had met the Bainbridges a couple of times and they’d always been kind to her. Mrs. Bainbridge had always managed to find a cookie for her.
They didn’t need for James to drive them up the road, but neither of the adults could deny Elizabeth the excitement of getting to ride in the back of the police car.
Within minutes, they pulled up outside Serenity’s small apartment.
“You’ll be okay, won’t you?” James asked her. “If he’s back…”
Serenity widened her eyes in the direction of her daughter.
“Okay, but if you need me, you know where I am.”
“Yes, thank you. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
Serenity went through her evening routine; dinner, bath time, trying her hardest to hide her emotions from her daughter. Despite her best efforts, Elizabeth clung to Serenity’s side, quiet and withdrawn. Serenity knew her daughter had picked up on something.
“Come on sweetheart,” she said, dropping a kiss on top of her daughter’s head. “Time for bed.”
“Five more minutes,” Elizabeth whined, though she had no concept of how long a minute was, never mind five.
“No, you’ve already stayed up past your bedtime.”
Elizabeth, tired from the previous night’s broken sleep, put up no more of an argument. Clutching her cloth to her narrow chest, the little girl shuffled to her bedroom.
Serenity struggled to keep her mind on the bedtime st
ory—a tale about a tortoise—as she read to Elizabeth. The possibility of Elizabeth dreaming about what had happened to the Bainbridges played on Serenity’s mind. Add to that the impossible, but still terrifying, assumptions the police made about Jackson being back and the face of the murdered girl appearing on the back of her eyelids every time she closed her eyes, she wondered if she’d get any sleep that night herself.
Going through the motions, Serenity finished the story and tucked her daughter in.
“’Night, sweetheart,” she said.
“’Night, Mommy.”
“Love you,” she told her.
“Love you,” Elizabeth echoed back.
Gently, Serenity pulled the door shut and headed to the kitchen. She wanted to collapse on the couch and forget about everything with a couple of hours of mindless television, but the dirty dishes from dinner still sat in the sink, calling her and she knew she wouldn’t be able to relax until she’d cleared up.
The trash teetered from the top of the can. Serenity sighed, a hand on her hip. It needed to be emptied and there was no point in leaving more chore till the morning. She struggled to get out of the house on time already.
Serenity pulled the full bag out of the can and walked out of her front door, carrying the bag in one hand.
She stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and pulled the lid off the large can serving the whole block. Dumping the bag, she turned to head back inside.
“Serenity?”
Serenity froze, her eyes pricked with tears. She’d heard his voice in her dreams. Surely she was dreaming now. She turned her head in the direction of the voice and saw the terrifyingly familiar figure standing, concealed by the night.
He stepped out of the darkness, into the streetlight.
Sebastian!
She put one hand out in front of her, warding him off, the other at her chest, protecting her heart.
“You can’t be here,” she gasped. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“I’m sorry, Serenity,” he took a step toward her, but she shrank away. “I needed to see you.”
The shock of his presence left her dizzy. He’d appeared in her dreams every night for the past four years and now here he was, standing in front of her. But he wasn’t the same as she remembered—he looked like a different person. His eyes were dark and haunted, bruised and hollow. His cheeks were sunken beneath sharp cheekbones, and his skin seemed even paler than before.
When she’d dreamed of being with him again, she never imagined she’d be so frightened.
Sebastian reached for her, his movements too fast, quicker than her eye could follow. It resulted in an unnerving, jerking action and she jolted away.
His face crumpled in hurt. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s been so long since I’ve been in the company of humans. I’ve forgotten how to act around them.”
“You frightened me,” she said, breathless.
“I didn’t want to scare you. When I left you, Serenity, I promised I would leave you alone, that I wouldn’t haunt you, and I meant it. But something has happened and I needed you to know.”
She stared at him, not believing her own eyes. Perhaps she was in the presence of a ghost?
“You can’t be here,” she said again, as though repeating the phrase over and over would make it true.
Suddenly she remembered the little girl, tucked up in bed in the apartment behind them. Did he know about Elizabeth?
Her heart rate notched up and her cheeks flushed. Her whole body tightened with panic. She didn’t want Elizabeth to wake up and come out to find her. She didn’t want to have to explain the identity of this man.
“Please, Serenity. I understand this must be a shock, but I need to speak with you. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”
She stepped away, backing toward the house.
He moved suddenly, cutting through the air, reappearing between her and the front door. She spun around to face him.
“Don’t do that!” she said. “I always hated when you did that!”
He stared at her in earnest, his green eyes so much darker than she remembered.
“He’s back, Serenity. I think Jackson is back.”
“What?” Her eyes widened in disbelief, but a tremor of unease quivered through her. “Jackson is dead. I should know!”
“He’s still dead, but he’s become something else. I believe Madeline took him from where I buried his body and began his transformation, perhaps hoping to use him against us. You stopped her before she could complete the process and, with no guidance, he’s become what he is today.”
She barely dared to ask the question, but she forced the words. “What is he?”
“A monster.”
Tears sprung to her eyes, she shook her head frantically. “I don’t believe you.”
“You must,” he grabbed her wrists and the memory of his cold touch flooded her, as though she’d been dragged back in time.
She felt as though she had been punched in the stomach, stealing her breath. She found herself in the middle of a nightmare and couldn’t wake up. How was she supposed to believe him? She struggled to believe Sebastian, himself, stood before her.
Despite the terribleness of his news, only one thing sat at the forefront of her mind—their daughter. Had Sebastian already seen Elizabeth? Just because he’d seen her didn’t mean he’d figured out she was his. Or would he be able to sense their bond?
“Please,” she said, pulling out of his grip. “Go away. Leave me alone.”
Sebastian stared at her. “Why aren’t you listening to me? You know these things exist. Do you think the couple at your old house being murdered was a coincidence? It wasn’t, Serenity. Jackson killed them and he is probably looking for you.”
“Oh, God!” She put her face in her hands. “The police were right.”
“What do you mean?”
“They found Jackson’s fingerprints in the blood at the house. They told me he was a suspect, but I told them I didn’t think him capable of murder. Of course I did! He’s supposed to be dead, but now you’re here telling me he’s not.”
“He’s still dead, Serenity. At least in the normal sense of the word.”
“No! Dead means gone, and gone forever.”
He raised both of his hands, gesturing to himself. “Then what am I?”
She’d spent years desperate to be near him again; yet here stood the dream and he brought with it a nightmare. She always thought she would be overjoyed for him to step back into her life, but she never imagined he would be accompanied by such horror.
The phrase ‘be careful what you wish for’ mocked her.
She didn’t want to believe Jackson’s return possible. Her mind didn’t want to accept it, pushing the possibility away. Jackson had been a monster when he’d been alive, and the thought of him transformed into something even worse was terrifying.
After Serenity killed Jackson and orchestrated Madeline’s death, she’d been tormented by nightmares and paranoia of repercussions. She’d been terrified that Madeline hadn’t died down the pipe; that she’d somehow escaped and now waited to take her revenge. Serenity never imagined it wouldn’t be Madeline who came back from the dead, but Jackson. Madeline, she thought she could cope with, however terrifying the female vampire had been. Jackson coming back was unthinkable.
Suddenly, Serenity realized something worse might happen than Sebastian finding out about Elizabeth—and that was Jackson finding out about Elizabeth.
Her heart filled with fear.
“I can’t do this again,” she whispered. “I’m not strong enough. I can’t do this again.”
As a tear ran down her cheek, Sebastian reached up and stroked it away.
“You can. I’m here now,” he said softly.
Serenity’s heart had hardened over the years and she used its callus to sharpen her tongue.
“You left me alone,” she said. “You can’t just come back here and expect me to fall into your arms.”
“I don’t expect that. I only want to protect you.”
“Like you protected me four years ago?”
Sebastian pressed his lips together. “I know about you and the police officer. The one from that night.” Bitterness tainted his voice.
Serenity’s eyes widened in surprise; he had been watching her?
“James is my friend!” she snapped. “He’s been here for me over the past four years. He was here to pick up the pieces.”
“I bet.”
Serenity physically flinched and she shook her head in amazement. “Not that it’s any of your business, but James is married now to a wonderful woman and they have a baby together. Nothing ever happened between us. You have no need—or right—to be jealous.”
Sebastian gave a slight shake of his head, his gaze flicking to the ground. “I saw you together and it hurt. The last few years have been so hard…”
“Hard?” she interrupted; amazed disbelief still in her voice. “On you? You have no idea what I’ve been through, no idea at all. Remember, you left me! You were the one who chose to go.”
They stood opposite each other, their faces cast in shadows beneath the street lamp. The rest of the world had fallen silent around them. No cars drove down the street, no one came out of their homes, not even a dog barked. Sebastian’s presence had stilled them all.
“What am I supposed to do, Sebastian?” she said, finally. “If Jackson is back like you say, what am I supposed to do? Do I just go into my apartment and wait for him to track me down and kill me?”
“Don’t talk like that!” he said, and she was reminded of her saying the same thing to her daughter that morning.
The thought of Elizabeth brought a wrench of pain. The thought of anything happening to her beautiful little girl was too much for her to stand. She would do anything to protect her. She didn’t want Elizabeth to grow up without her, but she would sacrifice herself if she had to.
Serenity hadn’t been expecting the anger that filled her heart. She’d worked so hard to piece her life back together. She’d been through so much. Now Jackson was back again, trying to control her life once more. She thought she’d taken the ultimate step to stop him from ever hurting her again, yet here she was, four years later, discovering he was out to hurt her all over again. All because of some bitch vampire who had been jealous of what she and Sebastian had shared.
The Serenity Series: Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 29
