Out of the Shadows (9 page)

“I imagine it has been pretty hectic.”

Her target’s sympathetic words rang fake. From the dull tone of his voice, he didn’t have a clue about the Order. Not really.

Unfortunately, Sanders played right into his hands. “Hectic? Since the Spenta Michos disappeared, I haven’t been sane! Sometimes I think this is all meant to test us, test our devotion. We’re coming up a little short.”

Would the Holy Michael leave just to teach the Order a lesson? No. Impossible. The Spenta Michos didn’t even know the significance he posed to the Order. To his knowledge, he was a workaday teacher. He didn’t know how each and every one of them soaked up his wisdom. How they protected him from harm. He didn’t know he was monitored every second of every day. Yet somehow, he had slipped out from under the Order’s nose.

More specifically, from under Heaven’s nose.

But as important as she considered the Spenta Michos’s disappearance to be, a more pressing matter was the man casually conversing with Sanders. If he didn’t even know the Order’s main mission, why did he hunt them?

Hopefully, he would reveal his motives soon. Then maybe she could turn her mind to stopping him.

“I came here for a specific reason. I think you know that, Mr. Sanders.”

“Just Sanders, please.”

“I’m looking for someone.”

This was news to Heaven. Last she’d known, the only person he’d seemed to be “looking” for was Lori. And by looking, of course she meant following. Balancing on the balls of her feet in the thin coating of snow, she waited to hear more.

“I’ll help in any way I can.” Sanders sounded doubtful. Like he didn’t believe he would be much help at all.

“If you know Lori, you must know a man named Terrence Welsh. Do you happen to know where I can find him?”

Terrence? Heaven froze. Even the air around her seemed to freeze solid. What would this man want with Terrence?

Sanders answered, “I’m sorry. I’ve never met any man by that name.”

There was a noise. Whump. The sound of a punch landing.

Then the man she trailed said, “You must know him. Tall, broad-shouldered, a vampire? By all accounts he’s been glued to Lori’s side for the past couple months. Think.”

When Sanders answered, his voice was high and strained. With pain or fear? Maybe both. “I told you, I don’t know. She’s never brought anyone to the meetings. I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“See, I think you’re lying.”

Sanders’s scream rang out, cut off before a second passed. Heaven started to tremble. He was doing it again, killing one of her own. Should she stop it? Her muscles bunched, but still she didn’t move.

She was scared. What was she supposed to do, barge into the house, so she could be next? And the most terrifying part of all was that she might be the only person who knew Terrence lived. But even then, she didn’t know where to find him. Which meant if he started questioning her, she would die, too.

The man left, slamming the front door. Heaven felt her heart stop for a full second. Her lungs refused to work. If he glanced back at the house, he would see her.

But he didn’t. He stormed off down the street.

Eventually, Heaven unfroze. Not soon enough to save Sanders, assuming she had learned CPR in the three days since she’d come face-to-face with Byte’s corpse. She let herself into Sanders’s house, just in case, but even from afar she knew he was already dead.

Could she have done something? Something to save him?

She would’ve just been killed, too. But the thought didn’t ease her conscience. Maybe the killer would have run from a confrontation instead. Maybe Sanders would have lived to see his wife and kids again.

She held her breath against the stench. Worse than with Byte, for some reason. Maybe because it was coupled with the gentle potpourri smell of the house. She couldn’t let Sanders’s family come home to see him like this. It was horrible enough.

Thankfully, she wore gloves, so she wouldn’t leave prints. She rummaged in his pocket, pulling her shirt over her nose in an attempt to lower her chances of vomiting. She didn’t want forensic analysis of her puke to place her at the scene. Not to mention she didn’t want to defile the corpse.

Finding Sanders’s cellphone, she paused. Recently, he’d sent out a text alerting all of Shark’s circle to Byte’s death. He deserved the same consideration.
RIP Sanders
, she typed.

Then she dialed 9-1-1 and got the hell out of Dodge.

Chapter 7

More nightmares, coupled with the sound of a ringing phone. Launching into a sitting position, Lori fumbled with the device, flipping it open to see the caller. Her cousin Cedric. She thumbed the button to ignore the call. He would only berate her for missing Thanksgiving.

She tucked her knees to her chest, but couldn’t shake the greasy feeling the dreams had brought on. She’d dreamt of Jeremiah’s death again. Only this time, she’d held the stake. She’d plunged it into his chest. Just like with Terrence.

Her stake. Guilt nagged her, building momentum. She glanced at the weapon from across her dorm room, sitting on her dresser. She needed to get rid of it. After the accident, she’d washed the thing thoroughly, but it wasn’t enough. Crime labs might still be able to pull trace amounts of blood off of it.

The thought rooted in her mind, growing ever more potent. Finally, she threw off her covers and latched onto the stake, bringing it into the bathroom.

Wash it again.
Again
. With soap this time. No, with peroxide. That would scour it clean, right?

The scalding water burned her hands as she scrubbed over the silver stake. Then peroxide, dosing liberally, using half the bottle. There could be no proof after that, right? She’d wipe it clean and wear gloves to dispose of it. No one would know it was hers. She scrubbed harder.

The door opened. Lori nearly screamed. She paused for only a split second, but being caught washing a stake when Jeremiah’s murder was plastered all over the news was a bad idea. Keri knew too much dirt on her already. She whipped the weapon behind her back. Yeah, that wasn’t conspicuous at all. Hopefully Keri would be distracted.

Fortunately, the blonde was talking to someone. “I’ll just be a minute,” she said over her shoulder. When she faced forward, she stumbled to a stop. “Lori. I didn’t realize you were in here.”

Lori backed away, plastering a stiff smile on her face. “I just finished.” She slowly started to back out of the room.
Please, just let me leave
.

“I haven’t seen you lately,” Keri said. Still trying to make friends after the way Lori had snapped at her?

“I’ve been around.” Another step toward the door. Sweat beaded along her spine.

“How have you been?”

Lori needed to end the conversation. Double time. The stake in her hand might as well have been a poisonous snake. It endangered her just as surely. “I didn’t come to the bathroom to chit chat.” Her voice was a little squeaky, but she tried to remain firm. Her clammy hand readjusted around the stake.

Hurt crossed Keri’s face, but Lori buried the wave of guilt. She backed the last few steps out the door, closed it, and leaned her forehead against the wood. Holy shit. That had been way too close.

She needed to go out. Suddenly, her room was far too stifling. She dressed in feverish haste, pulling on clothes and searching out her jacket. Why bother with makeup? Right now, she just wanted to get away.

Someone pounded on her door. The one to the hall. Seconds later, her cellphone vibrated.

Don’t open the door
.

Unknown number. Was her door locked? Could they get in? Her heart beat erratically, an anxious tap dance just under her skin.

Whoever stood on the other side of the door knocked again. “Lori? Are you there?” Devin, voice muffled by the wood.

She didn’t answer. Maybe, just this once, the mysterious texter was in the right. After being stood up almost a week ago, she didn’t want to see Devin. What was his deal, anyway?

“Open up!” His voice was angry now.

She didn’t even dare to breathe. Had she locked her door before falling asleep? God, she hoped so.

But he didn’t try to break in. Eventually, he left.

Her heartbeat slowed. Lori sank onto the bed.

Staying in her room? It definitely sounded like a good idea.

* * * *

The killer would strike again. Of that, Heaven was absolutely certain. But what could she do about it? Even after nearly hospitalizing herself from exhaustion, she couldn’t get to sleep. Not with Sanders’s death hanging over her head. He’d had a family. And Heaven? Her deadbeat dad didn’t count. She should have done something. She should have at least tried.

Finding her quarry again didn’t take long, not now that she knew where he slept. She shadowed his motel until he exited, this time not for lunch or a soda. This time, he’d dressed to go out. But where?

When he boarded a bus, she hopped in a cab. More money down the drain, and she wasn’t even working to compensate. Hopefully, this trip would be worth it.

He exited the bus on the university campus. Heaven groaned under her breath as she paid the cab driver. Great. Just great. The last thing she wanted to do was watch this guy trail Lori for however many hours. But to her surprise, he didn’t take up a post outside the building. Instead, he meandered inside.

She settled in to wait. Winter frosted her breath. Nearly December, nearly Christmas, and what did she have to show for it? Only too many days of missed school. She’d fail the exam if this kept up. Her last year of high school, and she needed stellar grades if she was going to get into her university of choice. Or any university, really.
Don’t think about it
.

She rolled her neck, trying to bring relief to aching muscles. A shadow against another building caught her eye. Was that…Terrence? This dark, it was difficult to tell. Heaven clenched her fists. Why would he be so adamant about her watching Lori if he was doing it himself? Pig.

But perhaps a pig in danger. If that psychopath was looking so hard for Terrence… Heaven crossed the distance, thinking to warn him. But when she reached the spot she was sure he’d been, no one stood there. Where could he have gone?

She spotted something on the ground. A cellphone. With an inner shrug, she picked it up. A quick flick of her wrist showed it was still working. She scrolled through the phone, looking for personal information. Nothing. No contacts. Just one text. She glanced at the number, recognized it.

Lori’s phone.

She tucked the cell into her pocket. If someone called, she would give it back. Maybe. These were expensive, even if this one had PRE-PAID plastered across the welcome screen.

Her quarry emerged from the dorm. Alone. And from his angry stomp, not in a good mood. Heaven latched onto his wake, groaning when he boarded another bus. Again, she slid into a nearby cab, calculating her earnings. How much longer could she keep this up? She liked him better when he walked everywhere.

This time, he exited in a familiar neighborhood. She followed him to Underground, but waited outside the building. Seeing as she’d called in sick to work again today, she didn’t want to be caught on the premises. What sort of trouble could he get into at the club, anyway?

Waiting brought a numbness to her sneakered feet. There wasn’t a lot of snow on the ground, just enough moisture to seep through her shoes. She needed boots, but she would break her feet trying to stuff them into her last pair. Boots and heavy winter jackets were expensive. But if she was going to be spending her winter nights doing this, she almost wanted to dip into her meager savings.

Seconds turned into minutes, which would no doubt be hours before long. Heaven stamped her feet, trying to encourage circulation.

Wait. Was that movement in the alley? A spotlight at the corner of Underground blinded her as she stared. Yes, definitely movement. She jogged across the street and laid herself flat against the wall as she eased her head around the corner. Careful…

Somebody cried out in pain. A feminine voice. Heaven whipped her head those last few inches around the corner of the building to view the scene.

Her target stood over Scissors prone form, fists raised. A red mark across Scissors’s chin, from whatever had likely thrown her to the ground. A garbage bag was open, contents strewn, clearing explaining her presence in the alley.