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She pressed her fingers to her temples, equal parts fascinated, relieved, and entirely pissed off. “Is he—I mean, is he a vampire?”
Leviathan chuckled. “Human, actually. He has a gift. Some do.”
“Oh. Well, I’m glad he couldn’t get into my head. That would be—”
“He didn’t. Doyle did. He’s a demon, by the way. Well, half-demon.”
Her entire body went cold. “A demon. And he was in my head. What the hell did he do?”
“His job,” Leviathan said. “He sent you away so that he could use his gift to find a killer.”
“Wait, what?” It wasn’t until she reached the wall that she realized she had stood up and started pacing. She stopped, faced him. “You’re saying he knows who killed Marcus Braddock?”
“He does. He’s already filed an affidavit.”
“But that’s—” She truly had no words. It was all too much to take in at once. “How?”
“You’ll learn soon enough. And while things may seem odd here at first, I assure you that our process—and the parameters of your job—are very similar.” He flashed a half-smile. “Humans borrowed the setup of their judicial systems from ours, after all.”
She still had a million questions, but she voiced the only one that truly counted. “So who killed him?”
“An ancient vampire. And if you agree to join us, you’ll be prosecuting this case and have access to all the details. Does that scare you?”
She put her hands on the desk and leaned forward. “I haven’t said yes, yet. Does that scare you?”
He chuckled. “Today will be long. Ready?”
She thought of the stories she’d been weaned on, of the long nights doing research in college, surrounded by books of folklore and modern fiction. She thought of her father the way she’d found him, unmoving in a pool of his own blood. She thought of the answers that would be at her fingertips. But she also thought of Stemmons. Of all those dead little girls. The ones who needed someone fighting for them. For their families.
She thought of secrets and silence. Of never being able to fully share her life again. Of slipping through a curtain and ending up in another world that looked like hers, but wasn’t. She was looking behind that curtain now. Having looked, could she ever choose to go back?
She didn’t know, but maybe right now it didn’t matter.
“Yeah,” she said, eager to see what else he would show her even if, in the end, she forgot it all. “I’m ready.”
* * *
Luke paced in front of the monitors, his mind in a muddle as the memories flooded back to him.
Sara.
She’d been his. Truly his. Just as he had been hers.
And then the Shades had taken it all away from her, leaving him to wallow in his grief as he tried to learn who had tasked the Shades to steal her thoughts. He’d never found the answer.
So many questions. How could he leave with so many damn questions?
Because you must.
The answer rang in his mind with the force of truth. Tasha needed him, but Sara was strong. More, the past three years had proven that there was no lingering danger.
Safe. She was safe. And though it did not satisfy, the knowledge would give him some small comfort when he was away.
Frustrated, he pressed his fingers to his temples. He had no time to think about Sara or to mourn her loss a second time. The wheels for his plan were in motion, and soon Doyle and his team would come to hunt him.
He checked his phone, a new one and untraceable. But there was no message. The team was not yet on its way. Perhaps Doyle wasn’t as clever as Luke remembered.
Which meant there was some time, after all. He could go to her. Enter the courthouse from the system of subterranean tunnels. Find her in her office. And then—
