AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“This one’s from the Financial District,” Finn said. “The explosion that happened yesterday morning.”
Darien pointed at the body. “This is one of the more recognizable ones?” The skin was practically melted off, as if acid had chewed through it. Darien was reluctant to see what the others looked like.
“I’m afraid so.” Finn studied Darien’s reaction closely.
Darien had to resist the urge to punch him out for still viewing him as a suspect—as if he was capable of doing…this. If he were capable, sure, it seemed like a great way to make his enemies suffer until the bitter end. But these wounds were not…normal.
“Recognize him?” Finn prodded. “From your…time with Gaven?”
Darien shook his head. “He’s got a lot of men, though. Let’s see the other—the second guy from this attack.”
Finn rolled the drawer shut until it slammed. He strode to the end of the locker of drawers and pulled out another. More of that cold mist billowed out.
Darien walked over and had a look.
Partially melted, just like the last guy. But—
“I recognize this one,” Darien said. “He was in Angelthene. Why do you think so many of Gaven’s men would be in Yveswich?”
Finn shrugged. Pushed the drawer shut. “Maybe you scared him away.” Darien knew exactly what Finn was implying—that he was aware of the path of revenge Darien had been carving out in Angelthene. He didn’t try to deny it, but he didn’t confirm it, either.
“Cause of death is raw magic?” Darien asked.
“That’s what we thought. What a couple of the deaths look like. But the incident at the waterfront hotel—it’s called the Pearl—was pretty bizarre. We’re still waiting for the results for those.”
“Bizarre in what way?”
Finn’s mouth quirked at the corner. “Maybe, if you actually agree to help me, I’ll tell you.”
“Maybe,” Darien crooned, matching his brazen tone, “if you prove yourself trustworthy, I’ll agree. The next attack that happens—call me. I want to have a look at the actual crime scene before your men get their hands all over it.”
He crossed the cold room. Finn followed, but at a speed that told Darien he wouldn’t try to argue today.
Good—Darien wanted to get back to Roman’s. Back to Loren. He’d checked on her before leaving, but she was sleeping too deeply to notice him. The memory of her slumbering face melted the ice around his heart.
Darien added, “If you don’t call me when the sirens are still going off, I’m not coming at all.”
“You gonna actually answer my calls this time?”
Shit—his phone.
He paused by the door. “I’ll set something up,” he said. And then he pushed the door open and left.
Loren woke up later than usual.
When she cracked open her eyes, the clock on the nightstand read quarter after ten. She recalled someone coming in to check on her, but she didn’t know how much time had passed since then. She also wasn’t certain who’d come to check on her, but she had a feeling he had black hair and a lot of tattoos.
It took her a few minutes before she no longer felt groggy, but by then she had another problem to face.
Her throat was dry and burning, her stomach was twisting into knots, and intense chills were wracking her body.
She got out of bed, nearly stepping on Singer, who was curled up on the floor.
He lurched to his shadowy feet and bounded out of the way.
“I’m sorry, buddy,” she said, staggering across the room. She grabbed hold of the doorframe, took a second to steady herself, and then hurried downstairs.
As soon as she made it to the ground floor, she grabbed her freshly laundered bathing suit and a towel from the laundry room and headed down to the pool. There was no point in stopping to drink a glass of water; she knew it wouldn’t help. And voices were bouncing up from the pool room, which told her that almost everyone was in there. Everyone except Darien, she would bet. He was probably still at the morgue.
