Page 108 of Dark Night of the Soul

Vormund.

She strolled back in, coffee mug in hand, then halted. Saw the phone in my hand. “A message?”

“We meet him in two hours. That doesn’t give us much time to get there.”

“Since I’m not a lady, it won’t take me long to get ready.” She flashed a grin as she disappeared into the bathroom.

We were in the car heading to another nondescript building in another forgotten town.

True to her word, she’d been ready in ten minutes. Her damp hair pulled back from her face in a ponytail. Dressed like always. Henley, cargo pants, boots. I could still smell the faint scent of her soap and her natural scent under that.

“Do you think he has info about Vormund?” she asked.

“Likely.”

“And you’re going to let me go after him?”

I cast her a sidelong glance. “I don’t think there’s any letting.”

She smirked. “I was making sure.”

Testing me.

What she didn’t know—yet—was that I’d walk beside her when she did. I’d help. I’d make sure she did it her way, without interference.

Violence came easy to me.

With her, it was always a choice. And that was what made it dangerous.

The meeting point was another abandoned building. This one looked more like an old hotel that was nothing but a shell. Concrete walls covered in graffiti. No roof. Vegetation had grown up inside and around it giving it a rainforest-like feeling.

Silas waited—a different beater car—leaning against it holding a thick folder in one hand.

She exited the car first, shading her eyes from the morning sun glinting through the foliage.

“Where does he find these places?” she asked. “It’s like something off Mysteries of the Abandoned.”

I didn’t answer. Silas had a way of finding those lost places that were perfect for meeting covertly.

He greeted us both with a nod. Then, “I found what you wanted.” He handed it to me. “Dr. Elias Vormund. They call him the project architect.”

Next to me, she stiffened. “Architect? Butcher, more like.”

“This is all the background information I found. He was recruited by the Knights over thirty years ago.”

“Thirty?” she said.

I heard the recognition in her voice.

“Aye,” he said. “When he started hunting for dream walkers.” He gave Anna a pointed look.

“My mother,” she whispered. “He did that to her, didn’t he?”

“He was the one who led the research,” Silas said. “It’s all in the file.”

She went still, her hands in fists. I flipped open the folder. It was a full dossier on him.

Now she had more reason to destroy the man. I wanted to feel sorry for him. But I didn’t.