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I look at Nathan, who is leaning forward, ready to listen. It’s so bizarre how ready he is to believe me. If movies were to be believed, I would have been ridiculed and shunned. I’ve come across some skepticism, sure, but nobody has been outright disbelieving of my psychic abilities. Only me, ironically.
“I can’t tell you much. The vision was far shorter and… different than the others.”
“How so?”
“In the others, I see the crimes through the eyes of the killer. He’s brutal, don’t get me wrong, but there is a calmness to him. This time, I saw things from the eyes of the victim.”
His eyes light up, so I cut him off before he gets too excited.
“I never saw the killer, only his feet. I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you want to hear.”
His disappointment is palpable. The difference between Nathan and Valen couldn’t be more obvious at this moment. Nathan’s main concern is the killer. Valen’s concern was for me. If that doesn’t make me feel warm and gooey inside, nothing will.
“What was different about this vision other than your viewing perspective?”
“My viewing perspective?” A flash of anger hits me. “Do you know, when I’m in the killer’s body, I feel every bit of their excitement, their thirst for vengeance, their purpose. It’s cold and utterly terrifying, but it’s nothing compared to being in the victim’s body. Imagine feeling everything their body hasbeen through, Nathan. Imagine crawling across the floor, trying desperately to escape while wrapping an arm around your stomach because the pain is so intense it takes your breath away. Pain you know is from being violated,” I add, watching as the color drains from his face.
“What? Oh, fuck.” He drops to his knees in front of me, his hands taking both of mine. “I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t think. I’m an asshole.”
I close my eyes and blow out a breath. “It’s okay. You didn’t know. Whether you want to hear this or not is up to you, but I’m going to say it anyway. And yes, this is my official statement. I might not have been able to see the killer, but I know it wasn’t Valen.” I lick my lips before explaining something I only realized when I was in the car on the way over here.
“The victim. She was terrified of him because of what he did to her, because of what he might continue to do, but there was no recognition and no sense of betrayal. Whoever she was, she didn’t know her attacker.
“And how does that prove it wasn’t Valen?” he grunts out. You said you didn’t see his face.”
“I didn’t, but she did at some point. She had already been hurt by him once. The vision started for me just before he came back.
“I’ve already told you it wasn’t him. But ignoring that, if it was Valen, wouldn’t she have recognized him? Wouldn’t she or one of the others said his name?”
“Not necessarily. Briarwood was a big place. They might not remember him.”
“Funny, when Valen said something similar, you dismissed him. If this woman didn’t recognize him, what kind of relationship could they have had? I would have thought there would be some strong connection to consider a motive for murder.”
“Sono-d probably took their memories,” he reminds me.
“For the others yeah. But not this one, not this time.”
“You don’t know that all of the other victims–
“She was crawling away Nathan,” I tell him softly.
He squeezes my hand before he softens his voice. “She wasn’t drugged.” He summarizes before sighing. “The MO is very different here, Rue. So much, in fact, that it’s making me question it.”
“Question what?”
“If the vision you saw was even connected to this case. I’ve said it already, but none of the Lullaby Killer’s victims were raped or sexually abused in any way—women or men and Sono-d incapacitated all of them, we know that from the complete lack of defensive wounds.”
I think to the vision. My–her–hands were sore. I’d just figured it was from crawling, but they weren’t. She fought back. My mouth drops open as his words strike a chord. Honestly, it’s something I never thought about when I clearly should have. “You think I had a vision about a different crime, a different perpetrator?”
“I think it’s more likely, yes.”
I pull my hands free from his and run my fingers through my hair. “Jesus, I was so focused on figuring out who this killer was so I could get all this horror out of my brain that I didn’t think… But it’s never-ending. There’s always going to be another victim, another killer. Isn’t there?”
He’s quiet, his eyes filled with sympathy, before he stands suddenly and tugs me up, wrapping his arms around me. “It will be okay, Rue. It’s a lot, I know, but there isn’t a person on this planet who could have held up as well as you are. You are so damn strong. But it’s okay to be freaked out and pissed off and angry about it all. It’s hard enough for me to read the case files. Ican’t even imagine having to live through it like you do and then having it replay in my brain all the time.”
I know he’s right, but it still feels like a horrible burden to bear. The weight of it makes me feel like I’m bound to my gift like it’s my master yanking my leash.
He pulls back and looks down at me, concern written all over his face. “You want me to get you some water or something?”
