Page 27 of Drowning in Darkness

“She loves pasta, especially lasagna, and enjoys a decent home-cooked stir-fry.”

They both blink at me as I reveal the level of detail I know about a woman I shouldn’t even be thinking about. Too late—she’s already in my system. The best thing I can do for her continued safety is to get as far away from her as I can.

Tomorrow when she wakes, I’ll be in the wind, a shadow stalking the evil hunting her. Christopher Burnside has picked the wrong woman to mess with this time. She’ll be the last he ever lusts after. This ends now.

The food arrived hours ago, but Stephanie hasn’t left her bedroom since. Camryn has checked on her a few times, making sure she hasn’t snuck out.

Agent Thompson disappeared to walk the neighbourhood, and we’re still waiting for the other two to arrive before I can leave. I have the TV on silent, set to a recent romcom of all things. Enough to keep my brain alert for anything unusual.

My phone vibrates. I slide it free and scan the email from my sister, who has done a preliminary background search on the other agents. Nothing has raised any red flags, but she’s going to go a little deeper over the next few days.

“Anything I need to know?” Camryn asks as she puts another cup of coffee on the table in front of me. At this point, I’m composed of about ninety-nine percent caffeine, and it’s not even the good stuff.

“No, just my sister checking in.”

Camryn drops into the armchair opposite me, tucking her red hair into a low ponytail. I note the tightness around her eyes, the slight dark circles making an appearance as her makeup fades. She needs to look after herself better to be on top of her game. Maybe a spa day, or something. That’s what women do for self-care, right? How the hell would I know?

The stairs creak, and our heads swivel to watch Stephanie appear in the doorway. She’s wearing a white ruffled nightgown that teases her curves beneath the fine fabric and looks like it belongs in some raunchy period drama. She blinks at the wall and twists a lock of her hair between her fingers before dropping her eyes to the floor.

What’s wrong with her?

“Stephanie?” I say.

She turns her head to give me her pretty eyes, but they don’t see me, not really.

“James, you’re here again. Why do you haunt me every time I close my eyes?” she utters as she comes closer.

I haunt her? She has no idea how she taunts me.

“I never left.”

She stops in front of me, and in a blink, she’s straddling my lap. My hands grip her waist on instinct. “But you did leave,” she whispers as she plays with the hair on my nape.

I glance at Camryn for help. She leans back in her chair with a frown. Not going to help. Got it.

“You held me up in my darkest hour, and then in the aftermath, you left.”

“Can we have this conversation without you on my lap?”

She pouts, and it would be cute if I wasn’t freaking out about her weird-ass behavior. “But, like magic, you’ll leave me again. If I don’t hold on to you, you’ll disappear. I needed you.”

“Again, let’s discuss when you are not on my lap.”

The vixen grinds down and gasps. Holy shit, this is not on my bingo card. “Stephanie,” I snap. “Stop.”

“You never stay to play. I want to know what you feel like, whether I’m still whole inside. Can you do that for me? See what’s inside?”

I’d like to think this is a metaphor, but I doubt it with the way her nipples have hardened underneath the fabric.

“James,” Camryn says, demanding my attention.

“What?”

“I think she’s sleepwalking.”

She stands and comes around to be in Stephanie’s eyeline. It’s as if she doesn’t exist.

“I agree, but now what?”