There. The tunnel suddenly opened up before them and he stood, allowing his aura to light the way. He found the switch and flipped it, the lights blinding them in their intensity.
“We should be safe now.” She blinked at him, her hair a tangled mess, her face pale and streaked with dirt. “All we have to do is follow Piotr’s tunnel back to the house and call the police.”
She looked around, her expression dazed. “Wow.”
He smiled grimly. “I knew that someday Piotr would need this.”
They were in a natural cave, but electricity had been run to provide a couple of low industrial lights in the ceiling. Seth walked swiftly to the far end of the cave and waved her over. “Feel under this.” He placed her hand under an outcropping of rock. It looked like several other outcroppings in the cave, but there was a rubber button hidden under one. She lifted her head in shock and surprise, and he nodded. “Press the button, Abby. I don’t know if he followed us, but better safe than sorry.”
She pressed the button. Off to their left a section of wall silently moved, revealing a man-made cement corridor. Seth dragged her into it, then turned and pulled a lever. The lights in the cave immediately went out, and the lights in the tunnel went on. The door moved silently back into its original position.
“Cool.”
“Yeah.” He led her along the cement corridor, checking over his shoulder to see if he could detect the door opening. Anyone entering the cave that was unfamiliar with it would have no idea where they had gone. At least, that’s what Seth was hoping.
“If someone comes in, the lights will go out, right?”
“That’s how it’s supposed to work.” The lights stayed on, and soon he was opening the secret exit into the wine cellar. He closed the door behind them and sealed it shut with a quick flip of his wrist on a particular wine bottle. Unless you knew what you were looking for, it would appear seamless on both sides. He turned to Abby. She was a mess. Besides the tangled hair and dirty face, she’d broken some nails, and her sweater was shredded. Her jeans needed to be washed several times, and under all the filth and dirt she was white and trembling. He took her in his arms. “Are you all right?”
Her voice was shaky. “I’m okay. At least, for someone who’s been shot at, led through a tunnel a mole would have felt squashed in and then led down a cement corridor that had me thinking of prisons and the nineteen thirties. Where did he find those lights, anyway? They look like something off of the death-row sales rack.”
Seth hugged her tighter. He knew she was near tears, and was relieved to hear the jokes. He was so proud of her, he thought he would burst with it. “We need to call the police.”
“I need a bath, and then I need a Valium. I also need to know how you knew all that stuff back there.”
“I designed this house.”
“Oh. Okay.”
The sound of tears was still on the surface and he was afraid that as soon as she got into her room she’d collapse. He led her out of the basement, both of them shaking.
Seth needed his brothers. This was getting out of hand.
* * *
He went back out once she was securely inside the mansion and the cops had taken their initial report. Seth soared over Piotr’s island, searching desperately for Shem stench.
Damn it. How had the son of a bitch found them again? The only ones who knew where they were he trusted with his life. There was no way the Neph would tell a Shem where a victim was hiding.
He found the distinctive green miasma in a little copse not far from where he’d been with Abby. A simple scope on the Shem’s rifle would have allowed him to watch as Seth tried to seduce Abby.
The cops were there, checking out the scene. Seth kept himself invisible, hovering over them and watching. He needed to find out everything about the shooter, and he’d learned long ago from Dante that cops had amazing powers of observation. They might see something he’d miss entirely.
“Looks like they’d been here a while.” The cop who’d taken their statement bent down and pointed with his pen. “Check out that indentation.” He turned and glanced around. “I wonder if Ms. Marcheson and Mr. Van Licht always picnic in here?”
Seth grimaced. He’d felt so damn safe here, he’d allowed Abby to pick the same spot more than once. He’d made them targets, put her in danger.
“Ed, take a look at this. Something strike you as odd?”
Seth hovered—the cops wouldn’t see him as he listened in.
The one called Ed crouched next to his partner. “The indentations are light. Low body weight. Female?”
“Maybe.” The two men exchanged a glance. “Over here.” The cop led his partner over to a patch of sandy earth.
“Small feet for a guy.”
“That don’t mean nothing. I dated a woman with size-thirteen feet. Had to have her shoes special ordered.” The cop scratched his head. “Could be a young man, though. The shoe print looks familiar, like I’ve seen it before.”
Ed snorted. “We’ll get forensics out here to take a cast.”
“So, if it is a woman, you still think Ms. Marcheson is the target?”
Seth blinked. That might have been an interesting thought to pursue if that Shem hadn’t said he’d specifically been hired to watch Abby.
“Could be the guy. A jealous ex, maybe.”
“We should check him out, then. Make sure there’s nothing there.” He flipped through his notes. “Her psycho ex is dead, according to Detective Zucco. Has been since just before the first incident.”
“Then it’s more likely that they’re after Mr. Van Licht.” The two cops exchanged another look. “We’ll have to dig into his past, see what skeletons we can shake out.”
Ed’s phone rang, startling Seth. “Yeah?” He stared at the imprint of the body. “You don’t say. All right, I’ll get back to you.” He hung up. “Seems there’s marks that a boat has been on the sand for a few days.”
The Chameleon had been on the island that long? Seth didn’t hesitate. He darted back to the mansion. He’d left her alone, vulnerable in a building that a Chameleon could have infiltrated.
Seth had to make plans to get her out of here. But most important, he had to find out how the Chameleon had figured out where they were. Because Seth sure as hell hadn’t told him.
* * *
So much for a romantic picnic. She laughed, the sound edged with hysteria. Seth had gone to do his guardian-angel shtick, and she was stuck trying to forget she even knew what a picnic was.
Someone had tried to kill her.
“Abby.”
She could have sworn she heard Seth, but he was out doing angelly things, so that couldn’t be right. She scrubbed harder. The dirt was under her nails. Maybe she should get her nail file out?
“Abby.”
Oh. It really was him.
Seth held out his hand. He seemed frightened. “Give me the washcloth, sweetheart.”
She handed it over, shaking so badly she almost dropped it. She gasped as she caught sight of her hands. They were red, raw from scrubbing. How long had she been trying to clean them?
“Seth?” She was trembling. He was back.
He was safe.
“Shh. I’ve got you.” He took her out of the shower and proceeded to towel her dry, murmuring nonsense to her the whole while.
When they stepped out of the bathroom, there was a mug of hot chocolate on the table beside her chair. “Have some chocolate, Abby.”
“Because chocolate makes everything better?” She picked up the mug, the warmth seeping into her. Maybe it did make everything better. She took a sip and shivered. Chocolate and mint and just enough of a kick to let her know this wasn’t a kid’s drink. Yum.
He sat her down and had her take a few sips while he pulled clothing out of her closet for both of them. He dressed himself, running a comb through his wet hair before he helped her dress.
She was more relaxed, the alcohol hitting her system in a dizzying wave. He helped her i
nto her in jeans, a black pullover sweater and black socks, then sat her down once again with her hot chocolate so he could comb out her hair. By the time the knock came on the bedroom door, she was so relaxed she was ready to fall asleep. Her hands were no longer trembling, though they were still red.
Seth opened the bedroom door.
“The police are back, sir.”
Seth nodded and gestured for Abby to follow them. She placed her empty mug down with a sigh and strode after Seth. They followed the butler downstairs to the office, where the police were waiting.
They’d already been over the crime scene and had contacted Piotr. “Looks like someone snuck onto the island in a small motorboat, put in at a natural bay and camped out for a couple of days. They must have been following you two around for some time, getting an idea of what you liked to do and where you liked to go.” The deputy shook his head. “Don’t know what made him decide to take a shot at you, but I’d stay in the house for now. We’ll patrol around the island. let you know if we see anything suspicious.”
Abby nodded. Shit. Seth was beginning to pace, his mouth tight with anger. He had to be wondering the same thing she was. How the hell had the bad guy found them?
“The boat is gone, and the camp appears to have been neatly packed up. Lucky for us, the perp left behind some evidence we can use to identify him or her.”
“I’d call Detective Dante Zucco and Detective Henry Jarvis of the New Castle, Delaware, police department and let them know what happened up here.” Ed the cop shook Seth’s hand. “They’re probably going to be very interested in knowing that our stalker was here.”
The first officer closed his notebook, preparing to leave. Seth offered his hand to the officer, and they shook. “I’ll contact you once we have any more information.” The officer was led to the door by the butler, and Abby could hear them talking quietly on their way out.
Seth stood staring into the fire. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides and Abby had a pretty good idea of what was going through his mind. It had been going through her own all afternoon. “It’s okay, Seth. We’re safe.”
Seth turned and faced her. She had no idea why he was so angry. “You think that’s what this is all about?” He leaned down and placed both hands on the arms of her chair and loomed above her. “I’ve got an even better reason to be upset.”
She hunkered down, apprehensive as his powers slipped his control. Seth glowed, his wings nearly knocking over a side table as they ripped through his shirt. He grimaced in pain, but didn’t move away from her, didn’t attempt to take it off. “Okay. I’ll bite.”
“How the hell did the stalker know where we were?”
“I’ve been wondering the same thing.”
“Did you tell anyone, anyone at all, where we are?”
She shook her head. “No, Seth. Not even Bill.”
His light dimmed. “Nancy?”
“I haven’t spoken to her this week.”
He stared down at her, his eyes never leaving hers. After a few moments he appeared satisfied. Some of the fire left his gaze, to be replaced by puzzlement. He stood up and paced back to the fireplace. “Well, who else knows we’re here?” Abby asked, getting up to pace the room. There were so few who knew their actual location, and she trusted most of them. The ones she didn’t, Seth did.
“Piotr, but I doubt he’d tell anyone.” He flicked a glance at her. “Andi.”
She winced.
“Did you ask her to talk to Nancy?”
“I just asked her to let Nancy know we were safe, that’s all.”
“Damn it, Abby, is this some kind of game to you?” His voice was low, utterly controlled and cold. He watched as she stopped pacing and turned to face him. “What part of ‘tell no one’ don’t you understand? Or is it kind of like the ‘don’t go anywhere alone’ rule—easily broken when it’s convenient for you?”
“No.” The tears that had been so perilously close to the surface earlier nearly broke free. Someone had shot at her. “Andi wouldn’t tell Nancy where, just that we’re okay. You know that.”
“I’ve met Nancy. Hell, I have a dossier on her.” He ignored her gasp. “She’s a smart woman, and you had Andi call her. Andi. That’s like waving a big red flag. If you know what you’re doing, you can find out anything on the Internet.” He turned his back to her, coldly furious. She’d put herself in danger, and that was unacceptable. “Because you had to pass a message on to Nancy, the Shem knows where we are.” He turned back to face her, his hands clenched at his sides. “We might as well go home, since you seem so determined to let this guy know where we are anyway. Want to leave a forwarding address? Or should we just have you tell Andi to take out an ad?”
“That’s not fair. You expect me to cut myself off from the people who love me?”
“I expected you to exercise a little common sense, but I guess that’s too much to ask.”
She gasped, whirled around and ran from the room.
He made no move to follow her.
* * *
She hadn’t come down to dinner. He was upset, but not surprised. He’d expected it after his outburst. She’d locked him out of the bedroom, and he’d respected that. He had the butler bring her up a tray, and was again unsurprised to find that she hadn’t answered his knock. He suspected she’d cried herself to sleep. The tray came back untouched.
He could barely eat any of his own dinner. He knew he’d been harsh, but he had to get through to her. This was no game. Her life was on the line, and every time she failed to follow one of his instructions they both paid the price. This time they were damned lucky that the Shem had apparently decided to just shoot up the picnic, not her.
Why hadn’t he sensed him? His vision wasn’t nearly as good as Damien’s, but he should have noticed a fucking Shemyaza on the island. If the cop was right and the Shem had been there for days...
The thought of her bleeding body on that red-and-white-checked blanket drove him from the table and back into Piotr’s study. He booted up the computer and began once again to go through the files Andi had sent him earlier in the day.
Douglas Michael Finley, age thirty-three. Siblings: one sister, age thirty, one brother, age twenty-seven. The sister was married, with one child and another on the way. A stay-at-home mother. The husband was a computer expert of some kind. Confirmed location as of two days ago: Austin, Texas. She’d blamed Abby for the fire and her brother’s incarceration, and stood by him, sending him letters and care packages.
The brother was a chef, working out of a prestigious Los Angeles restaurant. His whereabouts were also confirmed as of two days ago. His last vacation time had been taken two years ago. He’d had little contact with his brother.
According to Andi’s notes, both parents were deceased, the father when Doug was twelve and the mother the year he turned eighteen, which meant Doug had lied to Abby about that, too. Both died of natural causes. Doug had a few domestic-violence complaints on his rap sheet. All charges against him had been dropped due to witnesses taking back their testimony, so there had been nothing the district attorney could do to prosecute.
Doug had been very careful to hit his women where no one could see. Until he decided to kill Abby.
Of his many girlfriends, three had been serious. Seth stared at the statistics on each of the girls and felt his gut clench. He stood up with the printed report in his hand and made for the bedroom. He sighed when the knob merely jiggled in his hand. “Abby, open the door. I have something important to show you.”
No answer.
“Abby?”
Still, no answer. Ignoring his growing sense of dread, he raced for the butler’s suite. “I need the key to my bedroom.”
The butler didn’t bat an eye, just handed over a master key.
Seth raced back and unlocked the door. “Abby?” He stared at the empty bed, his whole body clenching in fear. Slowly he walked toward the bathroom, praying he’d find her inside.
Her things wer
e gone. Like a sleepwalker, he moved to the closet and opened the door. Her clothes were missing, as was her suitcase and carry bag.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, the report clasped in his hands. If the Shem got to her before he did...
He picked up the phone, checking on Piotr’s boats. Sure enough, one was missing, a small speedboat Piotr used to fly around the bay with the few friends he invited to the island.
Without even stopping to think, he opened the balcony doors. She was alone out there in the night, with no clue how to get back to shore. A Shem was hunting her, would kill her if he found her alone.
Seth tore off his shirt, spread his wings and flew.
Chapter Eleven
God, she was so stupid.
Abby slowly paced the deck of the small boat. She was exhausted, and horribly lost, and stupid beyond all hope of redemption.
What the hell had she been thinking, leaving Seth like that? She hadn’t been, that’s what. She’d panicked and run, and now she was going to die on this stupid boat and save the goddamned Shem the trouble.
Seth was right, and she knew it. She should never have asked Andi to let Nancy know they were okay. If it hadn’t been for the underground tunnel, Seth might have been killed.
She shuddered. It didn’t bear thinking on.
So he’d gotten mad, and yelled, and she’d fucking panicked and thought about making some kind of a break for Canada... Only she didn’t have a passport and had no time to arrange for one. Her priority had been to get away from Seth, to get him out of the line of fire so that the Shem would focus solely on her. She’d called Andi and gotten the location of Piotr’s boat, claiming that she and Seth were going to use it to head back to the islands, hop a plane to Colorado and stay with his parents again. She didn’t want her friend to know where she was really going. Seth was right about that, too. The fewer people who knew, the less danger he was in.
All for You Page 23
