by P. C. Cast
“Harrowitz,” he muttered. “And my guess is, that was just a warning.”
Harper licked her lips, squared her shoulders. “I’m fine,” she said, and he caught the threads of her determination.
“I liked you best, you know,” Topper whispered, as though sharing a scandalous secret. “I saw you and I just had to have you. Had to add you to my collection. And I’m so glad I did. Your screams…” He closed his eyes again, smiling softly. “Beautiful. A true symphony. And your skin, so smooth and perfect…at first.”
Okay. That was it. Levi’s resolve cracked. This was evil in its purest form, the worst of the worst, the devil made manifest. “Come on, princess,” he said, tugging her away. “We’re not going to stoop to his level.”
“Your scent is fading,” Topper said with a pout. “Are you leaving me? But, darling, there’s so much more I have to tell you.”
Levi gritted his teeth when Harper pulled from his grip.
“Let him talk,” she said. “He might reveal something useful.”
“Or he might lie and confuse things that much more.”
Topper frowned, sniffed. “And what’s the scent mingled with yours, hmm? Mint, I think.” Another sniff. “Oh, yes. Mint. I remember a certain detective carrying that scent on his skin just prior to his untimely demise. Detective Reid, is that you? Have you decided to join us?”
Levi curled his hands into fists. Control yourself.
Harper swiped out her arm, attempting to punch Topper in the nose, driving cartilage into his brain. Her fist simply misted through him, causing no damage.
He shivered, and his grin widened. “Whatever you did, I liked it. Do it again.”
Levi’s fists tightened so forcefully his knuckles could have ripped through his skin. Control.
Another knock on the window, another graze of those electric fingers. A second warning. Probably the last.
Topper said, “You’ve pleased me so much, I’ll tell you a little truth, Harper darling. I’m glad you succeeded. I want you to kill me. There’s a chance I’ll end up just like you. If that happens, if I stick around, we can be together again…for eternity.”
Harper backed away. Levi continued to struggle with his rage.
“But even if you decide not to deliver my killing blow, I’ll be happy,” Topper continued blithely. “I have someone on the outside. Someone other than Clifford. And yes, I know you caught him. The guards bragged about it on the drive over, and to be honest, I confess I’m glad he’s going away. He’s the reason I’m here. He loves his art, his statements, you know, which is why he left that woman out in the open, for the world to see. I tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t listen.” He leaned forward, whispering, “He’s changed his name, but he was a foster child in my mother’s house. That’s how we met.”
A pause. Both Harper and Levi stiffened. He wasn’t done, had more to tell.
“Speaking of childhood friends, don’t think I’ve forgotten about yours. The sweet and spicy Milana.”
Harper’s hand fluttered to her throat.
“Oh, yes. I know her name and I also know where she is. My…person on the outside has kept tabs on her. If you kill me, maybe I’ll become a spirit, maybe I won’t. But what’s certain? My friend will ensure the same fate befalls your Lana. Death.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Doomed if I do, doomed if I don’t, Harper thought. Alive, Topper was a threat to Lana. Dead, Topper was a threat to Lana.
Lana. Who had yet to be found.
Lana. Whom Harper had to protect at any cost.
At last Harper knew why she hadn’t moved on. Not for vengeance but for her friend’s security. Yet, how was she going to ensure it?
A shudder moved through Harper. Just then she stood on the roof of the police station, peering down at the parking lot, where Topper was being shoved into a van. The sun was bright, the sky a maze of dark blue and white. Wind blew around her, trees dancing, bushes shaking, but she felt nothing. A sign of her existence in another realm, perhaps.
There was only the barest amount of railing to prevent a person from tumbling to the ground. Not that she cared. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she fell, but it wasn’t like she’d die, so…
Levi suddenly materialized beside her.
“About time,” she said. After Topper’s threat to Lana, Bright had stomped into the interrogation room to try to pry the name of the “person on the outside” from him. Peterson and Harrowitz had been waiting out in the hall, and had commanded her and Levi to come out.
Harper and Levi had looked at each other in shock as their feet had begun to move one in front of the other, of their own accord, toward the waiting duo. But the moment the door had shut behind her, the tug had loosened and Harper had grabbed Levi’s hand, flipped her gaze to the ceiling, indicating the roof, and disappeared. No way had she wanted to stick around and see what else the pair would force her to do.
What she did know—they were scary. Scarier than even Peeping Thomasina, that was for sure.
“We’ve gotta work on your fight-or-flight reaction,” he said wryly. “I stuck around to hear what they had to say.”
She forced herself to turn away from the van, now motoring toward the gated exit, and face Levi. Breath caught in her throat. In the sunlight, his skin was…alive. She could see lightning strikes just beneath the surface, the crackle of electricity, a storm of vitality.
“What?” he asked with a frown.
“Nothing,” she muttered. Everything. He was so beautiful. That rough face had come to mean so much to her. Protection, safety, humor, passion…the very hope keeping her on her feet and trudging ahead. “Bright will fail. Topper won’t reveal the name of the person helping him.”
“No, probably not.” Levi cupped her cheeks. “This is going to be okay, though.”
“I don’t see how,” she replied. “But I did figure out why I’m here.”
“I know, sweetheart. You’re here to save your friend. That’s why I’m here, too.”
Her brow scrunched with confusion. “I don’t understand. You knew Lana?”
“No. But I saw what he’d done to you. I was so disgusted with myself for not getting there sooner. Ten minutes, and we could have saved you. I could have saved you from such a terrible fate. Saved myself from guilt and shame.”
“I’m not sure I would have wanted to be saved,” she muttered. “Not after everything he put me through.”
“You would have. You would have found a reservoir of strength, the same way you found one that let you pick yourself up and continue on.” He kissed her, gentle at first, then harder, the act spinning into a decadent tasting.
When he lifted his head, she sighed. “What are we going to do?” she asked.
“Did you tell her?” Peterson asked from behind them.
Harper glanced to the side and saw Peterson and Harrowitz in the doorway leading from inside. The wind whipped Peterson’s newly green hair from its ponytail, strands slapping at her cheeks. Harrowitz was his usual scowling self.
“Not yet,” Levi said. He met Harper’s curious gaze. “They want Topper to escape. Or rather, for Topper to think he’s escaped. He will be tracked, monitored, and everyone he speaks to brought in for questioning.”
“That’s dangerous.”
“Extremely.”
“We won’t be taking any extra chances,” Peterson said. “He’ll escape with the most recent inmate cuffed to his side. That’ll be Ha
rrowitz, by the way.”
“Why would you do that?” Harper demanded.
“Because they want Lana safe and you happy. Oh, and for a price,” Levi added with a roll of his eyes.
O-kay. “We don’t have any money or even access to money.” Her gaze slid between Peterson and Harrowitz. “You won’t do it simply to prevent a criminal from killing other innocent women?”
The perky punk snorted. “Aren’t you just an adorable little thing? I gave you one freebie, and told you about your current status. You won’t get another. Besides, this entire operation is gonna be costly.”
“So what’s your price?”
“For as long as we’re here, we have to work off our debt,” Levi said.
“How?”
“By working for the agency,” Peterson replied. “Harrowitz has grown to love you and isn’t sure what he’d do without you.”
Harrowitz didn’t even blink.
“Fine.” Peterson shrugged. “There are places humans can’t access, but spirits can, things humans can’t learn but spirits can. You’ll be my eyes and ears, as needed.”
A small price to pay for saving Lana from a madman. “Done.”
“Good, because you start tonight. We’ll be at your apartment at eight, and I’ll fill you in. As for now, come down from there. I’m about to barf.” Peterson went back inside, dragging Harrowitz with her. The door slammed behind them.
“What will they do with Topper once his other accomplice is captured?” Harper asked.
“Put him back in prison.”
“Hardly seems harsh enough.”
“He won’t enjoy his time there, believe me.”
Yeah, if there was one thing she’d learned, it was that you always reaped what you sowed. Topper had sown seeds of pain and death. His harvest would not be pleasant. Harper had sown seeds of love, wanting to protect Lana, and she had reaped a second chance. “Did Bright have any luck finding Lana? I’d feel better if I knew where she was.”
“He has someone staked out at your old house, but so far she hasn’t returned. Yesterday her credit cards were used by some random guy, but I have a suspicion those cards weren’t stolen. I think she gave them away, hoping to throw us off her scent.”
“Why do you think that?”
“As close as you two are, it’s a safe bet she watched the same television programs you watched.”
He was right. “Has Bright been inside the house?”
“Yeah. He didn’t see her.”
“Even still…you know what I’m going to say next, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. You want to search for yourself. You know her better and you might notice something he missed.”
“Exactly.” She rattled off the address before picturing her old home. A modest one-story on the north side of town, close to a gym but closer to a doughnut shop, her favorite art supply store and Lana’s favorite tool shop. Brown and red brick, with dark shutters over the windows, and the most incredible garden in back. Harper had often painted there, breathing in the perfume of the flowers.
Just as before, there was no sense of weightlessness, no change in temperature, but when she opened her eyes, she was in that backyard. A pang of homesickness instantly hit her. She was here, but not here. A part of this world again, but completely separate from it. The roses were in full bloom, the flowers around them a multitude of colors. A man-made pond sat off to the side, the water running through the rocks.
She was glad Lana had kept the place. There were a thousand memories here, most of them good. But even the bad, when they’d fought with each other or gotten their hearts broken by a man, were welcome. They’d become stronger here. They’d grown.
Harper turned on her heel and entered the house without even trying to open a door. Maybe she could have. Maybe she could have caused it to blow open with her emotions, because the wind seemed to kick up several notches as tears formed in her eyes. But she simply walked through the brick, the movement as natural as breathing used to be.
In the kitchen now, she studied the pots hanging from the racks, the cabinets, the counters. Lana had been here, and recently, she realized. There was a cup with leftover orange juice, Lana’s favorite, sitting on the bottom of the sink along with a plate with crumbs around the edges.
“Where are you, girl?” she whispered. And where was Levi? He should be here by now.
A quick search of the rest of the house proved Lana wasn’t currently there. Harper did her best to ignore the pictures on the wall. Pictures of her and Lana and all the fun they’d had together. Shopping for antiques, eating hot dogs at a carnival, on vacation in the Rockies.
In Lana’s bedroom, she found tools scattered all over the floor but no project in sight. No chair or couch or table in need of repair. She found— A gasp lodged in her throat. She found a bloody bandage in the trash.
Blood.
Bile burned a path up her chest. Lana had been hurt. Why had Lana been hurt? Who had hurt her?
“Bright stopped me before I left,” Levi said, suddenly beside her.
Her heart skipped a beat—or would have, if she still had one. What she felt was the residual effect of once being alive, she realized. Kinda like muscle memory.
She wanted to look at him, she did, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the trash. Lana. Bleeding. Hurting.
Dying?
He added, “Traces of blood were found inside Clifford’s secret office, and that blood matches Lana’s. I’m sorry, princess, but there’s no reason to panic, okay? There wasn’t a body.”
Clifford. More blood. Blood that matched Lana’s. Not panic? Please! But before she could work up a good shout, she heard a floorboard creak. Lana, she thought, already running. Levi grabbed her by the arm and jerked her into his body. He placed a finger on her lips, hushing her.
He reached for a gun that he no longer carried, and probably couldn’t carry, now that his mind had accepted his new reality, frowned, then shoved her behind him.
“For once, I will protect you,” he growled.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“What you doing here?” Harper heard Lana shout. “Where Harper is? If she hurt, I kill! I kill you dead!”
She nearly fainted from relief. “No need to protect me from Lana.” She sprang forward and wrapped her friend in her arms.
“Harper!” Lana hugged her back. “I so happy to see you.”
“Me, too. I missed you, you overgrown pain in the butt.”
“Missed you, too, my little garden gnome.”
They laughed and hugged a thousand more times, and Harper breathed her friend in. Hints of sawdust, with an overlying fragrance of jasmine, Lana’s favorite scent, wafted from her.
When they finally parted, Harper looked her friend over, checking for injuries but finding none. Lana had dyed her hair black, with no hint of red. Pretty, but… She frowned. Something was wrong. Something was…off, but what, she couldn’t quite figure out.
Does it matter? Here was her friend, appearing healthy, whole and safe. And, for the first time in weeks, relaxed. There were no dark circles of exhaustion and guilt under her eyes, no hollows from grief in her cheeks.
“What have you been doing?” Harper demanded.
“Thinking.” Lana nibbled on her bottom lip and shifted from one foot to the other. She wore a black top and baggy black pants, with combat boots on her feet. “Planning.”
“Planning what? And why are you walking around in co
mbat boots?” Lana believed high heels were a feminine staple, and constantly complained about Harper’s refusal to decorate her feet as “the good Lord intended.”
A shrug of one seemingly delicate shoulder. “I was going to come to you today.” Gone was the heaviest part of her accent, her emotions now under control.
“Planning what?” she insisted.
“Just a minute, princess. How’d you sneak in and out without detection?” Levi demanded of Lana.
Her friend snorted. “As if I could not spot the guard dog out there. Child’s play.”
He was the next to snort. “Well, it wasn’t smart to come to your own house to hide out.”
Lana waved away his words. “So how you be?” she asked Harper, eyeing her up and down. Perhaps her emotions weren’t quite under control yet.
“I’m good.” Thanks to Levi. “Learned a lot these past few days, most of it disturbing, but I’m surprisingly good.”
“Promise?”
“Promise. But what about you? You took off without a word and—”
“Unfair!” A stomp of Lana’s foot. “I left a note and—”
“—I wasn’t yet done with the painting. Now I am and—”
“—told you not to worry. I can take care of myself and I was so afraid my coworkers would turn on you if I stuck around, thinking you would hurt me—”
“—I know I wasn’t predicting the future when I painted you, only giving voice to my own fears.”
Silence.
“Holidays are gonna be fun,” Levi muttered.
Harper tried not to smile. “Listen. I wasn’t painting you, Lana. I was painting me.”
Lana had been trying not to smile, as well, but now frowned, looking as sad as she had for the past few weeks. “You know, don’t you? About yourself?”
Before Harper could reply, Levi came up behind her and cupped the back of her neck. He applied a bit of pressure, and she glanced over at him. Leaning down, he placed the gentlest of kisses on her lips. There was something in his gaze, a sadness that mirrored Lana’s maybe, and that disturbed her.
