Page 66 of The Quiet Witness

He waited patiently, with that all-seeing gaze fixed on her.

What’s the worst that can happen, right?

Kate relented. The need for warmth winning out. Plus, she’d never tell him, but her neck was kind of starting to ache. The view was entirely worth it though.

She scooted closer to him, hesitantly closing the space between them until there was near to none left. He shifted, warmth blossoming against her side until they sat shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the dancing sky.

Chapter 27

To Live a Life

At first, it had been an invasion of privacy.

The need to keep a tight lock on everything, a fact hammered home once more when dear Kate slipped the key card from his pocket. Lucien had even gone as far as to remove the gun taped under the side table. He didn’t feel like getting shot in the face upon entry. Or in general, for that matter.

Now, it felt… different.

He had gotten used to her. The soft padding of her footsteps as she darted to and from the kitchen, hair twisted up in a messy bun, stray hairs peeking out this way and that. How she curled up with a book in hand, knuckles white due to some tense scene or other. One could say her life was adventurous enough. And, somehow Kate could still jump up in her seat, hand at her face in shock at the words she sped over. It was beyond him.

He had come to expect her spying eyes trailing over him. How she shifted when he was near. The way her heartbeat had shot sky high when he touched her during the hip escape. Whatever was in play between them, it was shifting.

It meant that he couldn’t wait much longer. Only… he wanted to gift her a taste of life first.

To see the Northern Lights, to feel capable and confident. To see her light up, damn him that authentic wide smile of hers. It was a sight for sore eyes.

From what he had glimpsed of her life, she hadn’t had a lot of any of it.

Difficult. It made orchestrating her demise that much more difficult, not impossible. But slightly, teeth-grindingly difficult. He’d spend many of his nights thinking on the goddamned promise he’d made her. He had come up with one idea that skirted around it, but it didn’t sit well. More time, he’d need more of it to come up with a short but sweet way of granting her a death out of this world. At least her growing trust would somewhat smooth out the process.

Soft mewling tore him out of his thoughts.

Ah yes. I was in the middle of something.

He whirled around, grinning widely at the man in front of him. Taped to a black plastic chair, gag in his mouth. Not the most comfortable chair or position to find oneself in. His victim’s eyes flared wide, darting around the room. Looking for an out. Kate had worn the same look, but lately it had faded. A smile on her face more often than not. The wonders of martial arts. He shook his head. Out, Kate, out. Liam in.

Right. He scraped his throat. Watching closely how Liam huddled in on himself each time Lucien took a good look at him.

Liam wasn’t amused. Strange. He had been happy enough with enacting his own tendencies. Unleashing his darkness on unsuspecting victims. They weren’t so different, of course. Lucien was no hypocrite; he was damn well aware of his own shadows.

But there were differences between them.

His own list was vast. He killed both the good and the bad, his way of handling the two camps differed wildly, though. On top of that, no children, no animals.

Liam had no such qualms. No one was off his kill list. His latest victim, Sharon, had come to understand that, no doubt, in the last seconds of her life as she watched the knife sink into her skin. Unable to scream around the gag that the squeaking man in front of him had shoved in her mouth. Alone in a ditch, left to die.

Guess the mirth didn’t last when his own hide was at risk. That was fine. Lucien carried enough for both of them.

The chair squeaked, its legs grinding over the floor as poor Liam tried to scoot backward, in the direction of the chipped, red metal emergency exit door behind them. Lucien’s grin only spread wider. If only he had popcorn with him. Non-sugared. Now that would be a great way to top tonight’s business off. He unsheathed his knife, Liam shot back in his chair, mewls heightening around the cloth. The whites of his eyes nearly popping as he laid eyes on the razor-sharp weapon. “Now, now Liam. No need to get all riled up. I won’t do anything you haven’t done to Sharon and the others before her.”

The answer didn’t seem to please the man. Well. Lucien sighed dramatically. Nothing much to do about it. He took a step forward, lingering in the strong aroma of fear gathering around his own victim. Yes. There was most definitely something wrong with Lucien Alexander Evans, to enjoy this in the way he did.

Another step. Music? It took a couple seconds for the sound to reach past the din rushing in his ears. There was music, coming from his own pocket. Psycho Killer floated through the space. Poor Liam fought against his binds. Not amused with the choice of song either. How boring.

With a smile Lucien grabbed one of the phones from his pocket, the tiny screen lighting up.

What a surprise.

He flipped the phone open. His voice reverberating against the room. “Well, well, well, look who it is.”