My heart stops dead in my chest before lurching into overdrive. My feet move on autopilot, stumbling back and hiding behind a parked car just in time. A mature gentleman in an elegant suit strolls through the doors to greet Harper. He looks respectable and important but wears a friendly smile and shakes the detective’s hand like he’s catching up with an old friend.
Every muscle in my body locks up as I recognize Asher Rowan. The man who isn’t nearly as respectable as he pretends to be. He tried to keep me prisoner. He’s the reason I faked my death.
Rowan is here. In Concordia. Where I’m supposed to be safe and far away from who’s chasing me.
My lungs seem to have forgotten how to work, and a cold sweat breaks out across my forehead. This can’t be happening. He can’t be here.
“Chief Rowan,” Harper greets, shock bleeding through his controlled tone. “I wasn’t expecting to see you in Concordia. Are you staying at the hotel?”
“No, I was hoping to catch you here. I’m in the city while attending a law enforcement conference nearby. I thought I’d check in on the Williamson case personally. You’ve been rather... sparse with the details about this new evidence you’re pursuing.”
My stomach twists. The Williamson case. Me.
I risk a glance around the dark SUV hiding me. The asshole stands there in his immaculate suit, black hair perfectly combed, looking completely at ease. The jerk must dye his hair or possibly even wear makeup since it’s hard to tell just by looking at him that he’s in his early sixties.
“Just following procedure, sir,” Harper replies neutrally but I can see the tension in his shoulders. “I’m working throughthe Concordia agency now. Still verifying sources before filing an official report.”
“Of course, of course. But you know how seriously we treat dark magic back home.” Dark magic? What a dick. “As your chief, I’d appreciate being kept in the loop.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Excellent, let’s set something up.” Rowan checks the ostentatious pocket watch he keeps in the breast pocket of his suit as they make arrangements to meet later.
As they finish up their conversation, I back up carefully, trying to put some distance between us since I don’t know which direction Rowan’s going. Once I get far enough, I pivot on my heels and bolt down the street, my surroundings blurring around me. I just need to get away. I duck into a dimly lit shop with high shelves and hide in the back.
My heart thunders violently against my chest, pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat, and my fingers tremble uncontrollably. Just when it felt safe to come out of hiding and trust that my problems were far enough away, trouble comes knocking at my door, right to my hotel.
Rowan is in the city where I’m hiding. What does he want? Does he suspect something?
Does it even matter? I’m not safe here anymore.
I have to leave. Now.
Disappearing Act
Dodger
Harper eventually texts me and tells me it’s safe to return to the hotel. I have no idea what I say to him or what he thinks about Rowan’s arrival. I get back into my room and start packing. It feels like I just unpacked and now I’m already packing everything back up. Maybe that’s because we had to switch rooms after Harper broke down the door.
Or maybe it’s because I finally felt like I could breathe. Like things were going right. But not anymore.
I’m in a panic as I haphazardly shove clothes and essentials into my suitcase. The hotel room feels smaller, more suffocating with each passing moment. Why did I think I was safe here? Why did I let my guard down? I was actually starting to believe it would all work out.
But that’s over now. I have to run. That’s what I do best.
Asher Rowan is in Concordia now, and it’s only a matter of time before he discovers I’m still breathing. My instincts scream for me to run like I always have. I’ve become an expert at staying a step ahead of the monsters chasing me. Nothing’s changed, even if the monster this time happens to be more human than the rest.
When I’m all packed up and ready to go, I open the door. Harper’s standing there on the other side.
“Ah!” I exclaim. “Jeez. Don’t you knock?”
“Was about to,” he replies, and yes, his hand is still raised. “Are you going somewhere?”
I drop the bag in my hand and keep the door closed as much as possible.
