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And now that there’s nothing preventing us from being together, the impatience to be rid of this case and this whole damn town is a taxing demand furiously pounding at my temples.
Weary of the ritual, I flex my fingers as Hernandez rings the doorbell of the Lipton home. The heavy thump of bass from within rattles the windowpanes, accelerating my heart rate.
When do we know the moment the danger is no longer a threat and insanity has consumed us?
Was I driven mad while I was locked inside a mental hospital for six months restlessly waiting? Or was it when Halen sat across from me at the visitation table, so close, but still so far away?
Was I already insane when I beat Alister into a literal bloody pulp and strung his corpse up before I flayed the flesh from his skull? To break the seal of her mind and harness the energy of a blood sacrifice, I delved to the darkest depths of the black arts.
Desperation for a woman can resort any man to his basest monster.
And if that base act is what ultimately brought her back to me, then I’d kill him a hundred times over. I’d flay his flesh while his heart still beat just for the way she looked at me at the scene. For how she’s looking at me now.
I run my tongue over the ridge of my teeth and meet her eyes in challenge, dangerously close to doing something just as hazardous, like ramming Hernandez’s head against the house so I can get little Halen alone.
Impatient, I say to the agent, “I think this party is open invitation.”
Hernandez must sense my irritation, because he opens the door with no remark. A flood of music spills into the night to invite us in.
Halen arches an eyebrow in dare, exquisitely sultry as she turns and strides inside, her petite form engulfed in swirling lights. I touch the small of her back as we weave a path through gyrating youth, reminiscent of the night I brought her here to invoke the frenzy.
One of the revelers stops short in the middle of the throng to stare at us, his wide gaze stuck on the obvious FBI agent despite his dressed down appearance. He then points toward the back of the house before he escapes.
“I assume he’s telling us where we’ll find the adults,” Halen says, voice cast over the house music.
Once we step onto the expansive veranda, we indeed find the main attraction of the Lipton home. The entire back yard overlooks the open marshland. Dusk is a swipe of muted pinks and purples across the dimming sky. Every gothic element of the house has been captured in deliberate embellishments. Draped over the many tables, black linen drips to the ground. Vines crawl along a giant arched trellis with swirled iron tracery that matches the revival home, and white lights glimmer from its canopy. Even the pavers that cover the sprawling yard are a dark slate with similar ornate design.
While the kids party inside, the outside is an opulent gala for the adults, boasting its own cellist to serenade.
“When we were here before, Devyn said the Liptons pretty much do what they want,” Halen says, and I don’t miss the pinch of regret between her soft brows. “Point made clear with their extravagant star-gazing party amid an active investigation.”
While it’s not a black-tie event, it appears most of the townies came dressed in their Sunday finest. Mrs. Lipton has gone all out in order to distract the locals from the bleak state of affairs.
As Halen eyes a bank of expensive telescopes, she says, “I also feel the Liptons just might be a tad eccentric and out of touch.”
I press in close and lower my mouth to her ear. “If I don’t touch you soon, I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”
She angles her head back. “As opposed to the very sound mind you normally have?”
I smile at the venomous bite in her tone. She’s still a bit irritated over my deliberate evasiveness at the precinct. I brush my lips over her ear. “I plan to show you just how crazy you make me.”
A shiver quakes through her body, but before I can sink my teeth into her, she pulls away, and only glances back to send me a wink that makes my whole body catch fire.
Devious little sprite.
I watch her approach who I assume is Mrs. Lipton. “How many feds are hanging around the house?” I direct the question to Hernandez.
He crosses his large arms. “Enough.”
I nod once. His clipped responses and guarded gestures haven’t escaped me. Ever since he interrupted my altercation with Alister in the holding cell, he’s been defensive. The agent may have suspicions—but no proof.
And, considering his boss was a rapist piece of shit, he might even be a little conflicted over his loyalties.
I like Hernandez. I don’t like many people. I don’t want to have to hurt him.
“We both know it’s unlikely for Devyn to show up here,” I say to him, then step down from the deck. “But seeing as Halen keeps getting shot down on her requests, what do you say we take advantage of the gathered locals?”
It’s an obvious tactic to earn his compliance, as his loyalties do in fact lie with Halen. But once someone has agreed to one suggestion, it’s easier to get them to agree to another.
