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Ella readied herself for sleep and tried to black out her thoughts, attempting to replace the burning questions with mundane musings, like plotting out fiction stories or designing her perfect garden. For years she’d be telling herself that she’d write a fiction book if she ever found the time, and the storyline would revolve around a failed heavy metal musician trying to recapture his youthful creativity, which he’d achieve by attempting to contact the Devil. It was just a seed of an idea prompted by an old case she’d worked on back in her Intelligence days, but she thought it had wheels. As she flicked through imaginary book covers and titles in her mind’s eye, she suddenly recalled something Ripley had said to her around an hour before.
You’re the angel of death, Dark.
The comment had stuck with her, a thorn lodged in her brain. Ripley definitely meant it as a joke, but Ella felt it encapsulated everything that had happened the last few months. She’d gotten close to another agent named Mark and even though he’d turned out to be a demon in disguise, he’d wound up dead on Ella’s sofa at the hands of a serial killer.
Then her two-time partner Paige Ellis had suffered a similar fate. She and Ella had infiltrated a killer’s lair together, both feet first, and Paige had been fatally stabbed in the abdomen. If not for Ella’s headstrong style, Paige might still be alive now. She’d been an incredible agent and had one of the most gifted minds Ella had seen from anyone in her field, and now she was six feet underground – all because she’d been paired with the wrong partner.
Now there was Ben, a man who had no connection to this life of law enforcement, yet death had been thrust in his face more times than she could remember. Ella’s old nemesis had put him through unimaginable torment as a way to get back at her, and Ben had miraculously lived to tell the tale.
Now that he was away from her clutches, he’d be a lot safer. He’d shared a bed with the angel of death but hadn’t succumbed to her poison, so perhaps pursuing him wouldn’t be fair. She wanted nothing more than to see him again, hear his calm and tranquil tones, but she couldn’t put her selfishness before another person’s safety. She was the common factor in all this chaos and that surely wasn’t a coincidence. What was it Ripley always said? If you ran into assholes all day, then you were the asshole.
And Ella guessed that if you ran into dead people all day, then maybe you had something to do with that too.
In the darkness, she opened her text chat with Ben and hovered her fingers over the keyboard. She saw he’d been online less than twenty minutes ago, and themerethought of himtalking to another womantwisted a knot in her gut. He might not have been, of course, but it wouldn’t take long for other women to work out that Ben had the magical combination of beauty, patience, and altruism, and this hypothetical woman wouldn’t drag him into the abyss or wrongfully suspect him of murder. She guessed men like him didn’t stay single long, and that was something she’d have to live with.
Ella typed out a few words to combat the sudden writer’s block, then deleted them. She typedSorry for everything, I hope things work outthen deleted that too. She knew what she wanted to say but couldn’t quite place the words. Perhaps her vocabulary wasn’t quite broad enough to capture her intent, at least not within the parameters of a text message. She wanted to portray sorrow, understanding, guilt, and regret but didn’t quite know where to begin.
So Ella left it blank. There was no point raking up old graves just to re-bury the corpses. Better to kill the relationship than to kill one of the people involved. Time to accept the reality that Ben had moved onto more fruitful, safer pastures. She’d miss him, but maybe she could find solace in the memories they’d made – if only those memories weren’t sullied by her accusations of murder that plagued their final month together. She wished she’d never opened that damn FBI file. Ella never suspected that her own curiosity would be the silent assassin of her personal life.That insatiable hunger for more,aneed to know the unknown, therelentless urge to discover, explore, and unlock sealed mysteries whose answers were hidden for good reason. It either led to great heights or abyssal depths.
Ella cast everything aside, embraced the darkness and tried to sleep. A moment later, she heard footsteps outside her door.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The only light in Gary’s motel room came from the television, but he had to keep the volume down low. He’d been living here for weeks now, but only a choice few people knew he was holed up in this dingy place. The owner, an old friend of his, had let him stay here at no cost for a month, but then Gary would be forced to leave. The owner couldn’t risk people finding out that he was giving his old pals free rooms, something Gary struggled to grasp. Most nights of the week, this place was empty. What difference did it make?
As far as he knew, only the owner, the housekeeper and one of the clerks knew he was living here. The others, as few as they were, were unaware they had a secret lodger. Gary guessed that the woman he’d seen in the lobby knew too, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out her agenda. She’d said she was a police officer but of course, that was just a cover. The girl had been a follower, a messenger. They’d sent her here to pour salt in his wounds, to remind him that no matter where he went, escape wasn’t an option. They had eyes on him every hour of the day, so holing himself up in this semi-public place was his only recourse until he could figure out a better plan.
He had to eye everyone with suspicion, because if they could burn his house down, what else were they capable of? They could come for him in the night, or assassinate him while he was walking the streets. He had no family left to speak of, so they couldn’t take away things he held dear because he had none. His home had been his most prized possession, his collection coming in a close second. They’d taken that from him and left him to rot, but it was only a matter of time before they came to tie up loose ends. The woman said there’d been two murders in this town recently, but how much of that was true? Was it an intimidation tactic to run him out of town? He hadn’t seen or heard anything about these so-called homicides in the news and he read the newspaper every evening. Not to mention, he wouldn’t put it past his tormenters to doctor video and audio footage just to mess with him.
Gary was sitting upright in bed, but his whole body stiffened when he heard something outside in the corridor.The thin door of his room was unable to contain thesoundsof life beyond, thecheap materialsdoing nothing to muffle the noise. Fear churned in Gary’s stomach as he looked around him, all his senses on high alert. He swallowed, feeling dread crawl up his spine like a cold hand.
Was it the girl? Or had she alerted people to his whereabouts?
He knew he’d been right about that jezebel. He could taste her deceit a mile off, with her false smile and her cheap perfume. She was just another follower, and now he was forced to share a motel with his persecutors.
Gary threw one foot off the bed as he considered his next move. He crept over to the window, peered through the curtains, and checked the window. He unlocked it, looked out at the street below and considered his odds of injury if he jumped out. He was on the first floor, around twenty feet in the air, so it was unlikely a man of his condition would survive such a fall.
He slammed the curtains shut then muted the television. Over at the door, he peered through the peephole. An empty corridor stared back, but Gary knew better. His tormenters wouldn’t just wait for him. They’d be hiding in the shadows, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
Garysprintedbacktothecenterof his motel room,adrenaline numbing the oncoming panic attack. He felt likeacornered animal, searching for an escape route that didn’t exist. With nowhere to turn, he pulled himselfinto atight ball and tried to take deep breaths untilthefeeling passed. He feltacold sweat break out onhisforehead as he stumbled forward,hisfeet seemingly glued tothefloor. He landed on the bed, rocking the frame against the wall.
His anxiety gripping him tighter, he cursedhimself for making such a foolishmistake. His pursuers would have heard the noise. He’d basically announced his presence to them, so now there was no escape. All he could do was gather what he could, head out the door and make a run for it. If he made it out alive, he could get the CCTV footage from this place and use it as evidence – not that the police ever listened to his pleas, but it could fuel a new investigation. He could add it to his collection of proof that he was being targeted by a nameless group. The cops had laughed him out of their precinct on more than one occasion, but they were probably in on it too. Everyone was.
Gary threw everything he had into his rucksack and made for the door. Where would he go? He couldn’t go to a church, not anymore. That devious woman had mentioned something about Sikh temples in Charleston, but he couldn’t go there either. If a follower was advising him of something, it meant everyone there would part of the sect. He wasn’t dumb enough to fall for their tricks, not again.
Hesquinted his eyes, pressing his face close tothedoor ashe peered through thetiny round window into the corridor.
No one there. The shuffling sound was nowhere to be heard. Just a vast, empty space with no moving parts. That meant whoever had been there was either hiding or they’d gone elsewhere.
But Gary knew he couldn’t stay here. He’d already been here too long. If he wanted to stay alive, he had to keep moving, live on the road, in a new home every three weeks. He had enough money to sustain himself for a year or so, but after that, he was on his own. Maybe he could sell that charred cube he called a house for a hundred grand or so. That might support him for a little longer.
Gary’s fingers trembled as he slowly creaked openthe door.He tookadeep breath, steeling himself for whatever might be lurking outside. An icy chill swept through the corridor, allowing him to breathe easier, think clearer, plan a direct escape out of here.
He calmed down as he saw streetlights through a distant window. He saw other doors on his row, a maid’s trolley, felt a sense of comforting familiarity. He stepped over the threshold into the corridor, ready to find a new life beyond this place he’d called home for over fifty years.
But then Gary felt an alien sensation, a physical energy that told him without a doubt that he’d been right above everything. Tonight was the culmination of their plan because Gary was face-to-face with a hooded figure who’d manifested from the shadows like a vengeful specter. Gary went to scream, went to attack, but found himself shocked intoparalysis.
The attacker spoke one sentence.
