Authors: Tami Dane

Blood of Dawn (31 page)

BOOK: Blood of Dawn

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Behind me, I heard Katie say, “Whew, he sure does know how to make an exit.”

I swiveled around. My breath caught. She looked like she was made of translucent mist. “He gets it from his mother. Let’s hope that’s the last dramatic exit he has to make for a long, long time.”

There has to be evil so that good can prove its purity above it.

—Buddha

Katie and I exchanged final hugs and good-luck wishes. Then Katie gulped in one long, deep breath before opening the back door, leading out into the backyard. She looked in my direction, but seemed to be looking through me. “This is weird. I can barely see you. I hope this works out okay, Sloan. I’m scared for you.”

“I’m scared too. For you. And for Damen.”

We faced the French doors, peered through the glass. There was an army out there, guns pointed at the house. She inched open the door, wider, wider, until she could squeeze through. She put one foot out, the other. Then she broke into a sprint.

I watched her zigzag around potted plants and clusters of police officers. She circled the pool and ducked between the trees lining the back of the property. Finally, once she was completely out of sight, I stepped outside.

Instinctively, I lifted my hands, held my breath. Could they see me?

No one moved. No one spoke to me. I took a few hesitant steps, then a few more. Then, feeling fairly confident I was okay, I dashed across the backyard, toward the back fence. Over the fence I went. Down the street. I stopped.

The queen’s car—my target—was surrounded. Its doors were open, and the driver was standing with his hands on the trunk, in your typical subject-being-searched position.

One officer waved toward him, motioning him back into the vehicle. Good. All I had to do was get to him now. Almost there. Just a few dozen yards. I picked up the pace, adopting a race-walk. Then a jog.

Nobody told me to stop, lie down, or do anything, so I kept going, making as little noise as possible. As I made my way down the sidewalk, my gaze swept the area. There were police cars everywhere. Officers dotting the sidewalk, small groups huddled together. Clearly, they’d surrounded my parents’ house on all sides. I was glad Katie had gotten out. I hoped she’d made it to the queen’s car by now. I listened, trying to eavesdrop into the officers’ conversations as I inched forward. As I approached the waiting limo, I had to pass a large group of officers. One of them glanced my way. My heart jerked. My skin burned.

He squinted.

I froze.

His gaze narrowed even more.

I felt panic setting in.
He can’t see you
, I told myself.

The tingling got worse. Hotter. More intense.

Was the spell wearing off already?

“Stop right there!” the officer pulled his gun and pointed it at my chest.

I stopped.

Roughly ten years later, or so it felt, I was standing next to a police car, surrounded by policemen, answering the same questions over and over. The queen’s limo was idling in front of Mom and Dad’s next door neighbor’s house, the driver also speaking to a small horde of police officers.

I was about to explain for the zillionth time that I didn’t know where Damen was when an SUV pulled up, tires skidding on gravel. The chief practically bounded from the vehicle. I’d never been more relieved to see her.

“Sloan!” She wound through the wall of men circling me.

I motioned to the limo. “I’m trying to get some information on the unsub. It seems they don’t want me doing that.”

She waved me over. “Come here. We’ll get this all worked out.”

Trusting her, I scurried over. She grabbed my hand, tugging me toward the mobile police station. “I wish you’d called me first, Sloan. Getting Thomas involved has put me in a predicament.”

“I’m sorry.” Boy, was I ever.

Inside, we sat at a small table. The seats were swivel-style chairs, bolted to the floor.

She rested her elbows on the table between us; her fingers were steepled beneath her chin. “Now tell me what’s going on?”

“I was out running errands with a friend, when I was surrounded by a wall of lightning, for lack of a better descriptive. The person responsible for the lightning revealed his identity to me out of concern for my safety. As it turned out, he’s a close friend of mine.”

“Thomas said he’s your fiancé.” She gave a pointed look at the rock on my finger.

“Um, yes. Technically, he is. We are engaged. But it’s going to be a
lengthy
engagement.”

“Okay. So until today, you had no idea your fiancé was our unsub?”

“No clue. Why would I even consider it? He has nothing to do with those girls. I don’t know how he got tangled up in this, but he is. And the killings are not being committed willfully. He’s being forced to commit them.”

The chief looked skeptical. “Are you certain?”

Of course I was certain. I was willing to risk my own life, as well as my friend’s, because I was so sure. “I have no reason to believe otherwise. He’s one of us, an agent. Somehow the second unsub discovered his vulnerability and learned how to use it to her benefit. He can’t tell me who she is, but he’s trying a different strategy, leading my roommate, Katie, to her. I have no idea if it’ll work. In the meantime, I was going to pay his mother a visit and see if I can figure out how he is connected to unsub two.”

“Okay.” The chief pursed her lips. “That’s everything you know, correct?”

“Yes. Chief, am I in trouble?”

The chief’s gaze flicked to the window. “Let’s just say you need to proceed with extreme caution, Sloan. Not only are your actions under a lot of scrutiny, but so are mine. We can’t screw this up.”

“I understand.”

“Let me talk to some people. Don’t move. Not a fingertip. I’ll be back shortly.”

“I’ll wait right here.”

And wait I did. I waited for eons. At least, that’s how it felt. I watched black-clothed SWAT officers come in. I watched them go out.

Finally Chief Peyton returned. “All right. We have a plan.”

I hoped it didn’t involve shooting Damen upon sight. “I’m ready to go when you are.”

“Protocol calls for you to be removed from the case immediately. But there’s a bit of a problem with that. The car’s driver has been in contact with the owner, and she has agreed to meet with me,
only
if you are present. So you’re coming along. But you will not take any action whatsoever without my clearing it. You won’t even breathe without permission. Got it?”

“Message received.”

“Sloan, I warn you, this is serious. You’re straddling a very fine line here. I don’t want to see you ruin your life over one small misstep. Trust me. Do what I say.”

“Okay.”

We left the SWAT mobile together and boarded the limo. I watched the congregation around my house disperse as we rolled down the street, past landmarks that had become familiar to me. Behind us, a small caravan of unmarked police cars followed.

The chief, sitting across from me, looked a little uncomfortable in the limo. “I understand your father set up this meeting. But when we arrive, I need you to let me do the talking. You’re a fly on the wall. Got it?”

“Sure.” I thumbed over my shoulder. “You might want to call off the troops. We won’t be able to enter Her—erm, Mrs. Sylver’s property with them following.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

While the chief placed a call to Forrester, I checked my phone. No call from Katie yet. My insides twisted. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea, sneaking her out of the house? Maybe she was safer there? She’d already been hurt once. Speaking of that, I needed to find out how that had happened. If Damen hadn’t been responsible, then who or what had been?

“I appreciate your help with this situation,” I said after the chief ended her call, my voice cutting through the heavy silence. “Thank you.”

“You’ve done a lot of good work for the bureau since you started. I don’t want to see someone with so much promise fall into an ugly mess.”

She said absolutely nothing the rest of the ride.

I stared out the window. At one point, just as we passed a Walmart, a deep shadow engulfed the car. It didn’t last long, no more than a split second, and then we were driving along a winding country road, flanked on both sides by heavy forest. And the caravan behind us—gone. I had a feeling this road wasn’t on any map or GPS. The chief, busy poking buttons on her cell phone, hadn’t noticed a thing. Just like I hadn’t the first time I’d paid a visit to Willow Hill with Damen.

When the car pulled up the long, U-shaped drive, I unfastened my seat belt. My heart was thudding so hard—I could count the beats.

“Hildur Sylver is an eccentric woman,” I warned. “Not like anyone I’ve met before.”

“Eccentric or not, her son is wanted for questioning. We need her to talk.”

I was pretty sure the chief wasn’t going to get what she was after. Not if she approached the queen like that. We debarked and the car rolled away. At the front entry, the uniformed guard opened the door for us.

We stepped inside.

My gaze went up.

The mural was gone.

I checked out the walls.

The paintings were gone too.

The queen, looking arthritic and bent, shuffled into the foyer, pushing a walker. This was the queen I’d seen at my parents’ wedding. “Welcome,” she said, motioning to a small sitting area off to the side. “Agent Peyton, won’t you have a seat. Miss Skye.” Her eyes twinkled as she greeted me.

I nodded, keeping my expression sober.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” the chief said. She sat, and I took the chair next to her. “We need to ask you some questions about your son.”

Her Majesty lifted a bent finger. “Before I answer a single question, I must speak with Miss Skye. In private.”

Chief Peyton stood. “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to do that.”

The queen studied the chief for a handful of beats. “Then I’m sorry, our business here is done.” The queen stood as well.

I was torn. I didn’t want to see this whole thing fall apart. I had a feeling Her Majesty had information we needed. “It’s okay,” I said. “Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of my superior.”

The queen’s eyes narrowed. Her lips pursed. Clearly, she didn’t want to say anything in front of the chief. A lengthy, very painful silence followed. The chief stared at the queen; the queen stared right back. They reminded me of two cats that had just discovered each other and weren’t sure if they should fight or not.

“Very well.” The queen took her seat again. “I have a message for you. Your friend lost track of Damen.”

“Damn it,” I mumbled, hoping she wouldn’t hear me. That made this interview that much more important. “Thank you for relaying the information.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Do you know whether she’s safe?” I asked.

“I assume she is. I haven’t heard otherwise.” To the chief, she said, “As you will soon discover, tracking my son’s movements is impossible. Unless you’re able to shift into some form of energy?”

The chief cleared her throat. “We’re more interested in finding out the identity of the person who has taken control of him.”

Something flickered in Her Majesty’s eyes—distrust, perhaps. “We all are.”

“You don’t know who she is?” I asked.

The chief gave me a warning glare.

Her Majesty shook her head. “Nobody but the two of them do. I did everything in my power to protect him.”

“He mentioned no names?” the chief asked, taking control of the interview.

“None. He wouldn’t be able to. At least, not once the link was formed.”

The chief leaned back, one leg crossed over the other. “Do you know when this link occurred? The killings are recent, within the last week.”

The queen mirrored the chief’s position. “I assume it’s very new. Probably within twenty-four hours of the first killing.”

“Do you remember anything unusual happening in that time? Did he go anywhere? Talk to anyone?” the chief asked.

“No, other than Sloan’s parents’ wedding the first week of July.”

The chief dug a file out of her briefcase. “We have a reason to believe the unsub could be one of these young women. Do any of them look familiar?” She opened the file, revealing a stack of photographs.

I studied each one as the queen leafed through them.

Her Majesty said, “I trust Sloan. She can help him. I know it.” She hesitated as she came across one photo I recognized. “Hmm . . .”

A huge swan swooped into the room, entering through the window. The queen lifted a finger, set down the photos, and walked to the bird. “Excuse me, please.” She picked it up and carried it outside, closing the door behind her.

The chief’s brows flew to the top of her forehead.

“Like I said, she’s eccentric.” I lifted the last picture that the queen had been looking at. “She stopped when she got to this one.”

BOOK: Blood of Dawn

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