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“What is he doing?” Emric mumbled as he took another step into the room, rounding the bed so we could all get a good look.
“No idea.” Beckett shook his head, a fang biting gently at his lower lip. I took in my fill, scanning the body for something, anything we could use.
That’s when I finally saw what was setting this victim above the rest.
She had a fresh laceration, the only wound besides the bite marks on her wrists. Typically, it wouldn’t bother me, but today it did—because the thin mark was just above her right shoulder, running about four inches long, a perfect slash to the carotid artery.
It looked eerily similar to my scar. Not just similar…almost identical.
Panic clawed at my throat, but I held onto the strength my shift had given me only hours before; although my anxieties were valid, they did not control me. Beckett, as always, moved to the body first, examining it with his physician eyes; I took the opportunity to tug on Nolan’s arm, gesturing for us to talk out of earshot. He shot me a confused look, eyebrows scrunching, before shrugging and following me to the adjoining room.
“What’s wrong?” His deep voice was filled with concern, probably still partially on alert since my reaction at the last crime scene.
“You’ll tell me if I’m crazy, right?” I held his gaze to show him just how serious my question was.
He narrowed his eyes. “Of course.”
“Then, please, tell me I’m crazy when I say that the marking on the body looks like my scar.” I pulled down the collar of my undershirt, exposing as much of the long, pale, thin line as possible before it disappeared under my chest plate. I had been so relieved when I had put the uniform on for the first time after the attempt, seeing that the combination of the underclothes and armor kept the entire mark covered. At least when I was out on professional matters, people didn’t have the opportunity to balk or question or give me wayward glances over my own weaknesses.
But at that moment, I couldn’t be afraid to show it. My mind was spinning, going to the worst possible idea: that somehow, Elliot was trying to connect me to these victims.
I hadn’t noticed it at first, but after the brutal murder of the Logan lookalike, and now this, I couldn’t let the thought slip away. But Nolan would tell me right to my face that I was being too self-absorbed or paranoid; he would tell me the truth, put this stupid idea to rest, and then we could go off and do our jobs properly.
Yet, the silence continued to stretch between us as he stared at my scar, his eyes flicking between it and the room holding the body. His face paled, his lips pressing into a thin line.
My stomach dropped out. “Nolan? Tell me I’m crazy.”
“I can’t.” He reached out to push my collar back in place, hiding my scar. “You’re right, they look identical.”
“Oh, Goddess.” I covered my mouth, muffling my labored breathes. Why was this happening? Why me, of all people?
“It’ll be alright,” he soothed, his warm hand resting heavy on my shoulder. “It will all be alright, you know we’ll never let anything happen to you.”
I nodded, looking down at the ground as I got my breathing under control.
“Do you think all of them are connected to you?” His voice stayed calm in that serene way I remembered him talking to Lea. The warmth and caring laced within it helped my nerves just enough to focus on the question and contemplate an answer.
“I’d have to go over them again,” I said, trying to think about the first two victims, but my mind was too murky to remember any details that stood out. “But the last one, yes. He looked like Logan.”
Nolan’s posture stiffened. “Right.” His jaw tensed, eyes closing for a moment before opening back up to look down at me. “By the way I came to learn about it, I would have to guess that was very…privileged information about your past.”
“Yes.” My voice shook over the word. “But I did file reports, so those closer to the High Faction could have found out. Or from a rumor I was unaware of.”
“Alright.” He nodded, his face twisting in thought. “Still, I know it’s hard to hear, but he’s trying to get your attention.”
“Now we need to figure out what kind of attention he wants.”
“Kas, I’ll understand if you need to take a step back from this.” He looked me straight in the eye, holding my gaze so I could see how sincere he was. If this was too much, I could back down, act more as a witness than an investigator. A small, nagging voice told me to let the others handle it so I didn’t risk hurting myself even more.
But I couldn’t listen to it. I was the Beta of this Faction. Elliot was terrorizing not only me, but my territory, and I would not back down.
Chapter Forty-Five
Somehow, I made it through the rest of our time at the crimescene.
Nolan had tried to convince me to search in other areas of the house or head back to the Compound while they finished up, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I wasn’t sure if Elliot had chosen this woman to kill purely to get my attention, or if the attention-grabbing was just an addition to his disgusting plans; but somehow, I was involved, and I would not let him get away with it. I would not let him get the best of me and watch me cower from his breed of evil. I would face it head on.
By the time we made it back to the Compound, the full moon was setting, the sun attempting to break through the horizon, bursting with deep lavender and orange skies. We were all exhausted, barely able to keep our eyes open, but we didn’t have time to sleep. We needed to work, to solve.
