Keep Me Safe (15 page)

“Make the call,” he said shortly.

“I guess that means we're not fired,” Eliza murmured as she brushed past Dane and disappeared down the hallway.

SEVENTEEN

RAMIE
sat on the edge of the couch, her gaze focused forward. She rubbed her palms up and down her pants legs and then wrapped her arms around herself, her fingers pressing into her flesh.

She wasn't even aware of the fact that she rocked back and forth, distress radiating from her in waves. Caleb felt powerless, unable to shield her from what she was about to do.

Her lips thinned and her gaze flickered in question. Her gaze found Eliza.

“How could you possibly know there's another victim?”

Caleb frowned when he saw Eliza glance rapidly at Dane and they both frowned.

“That's a very good question,” Caleb said softly. “I think you forget who signs your paychecks.”

“He's taunting you,” Eliza said bluntly. “He called it in himself. He wanted you to know, to track him. The victim is his message to you.”

Caleb's pulse leapt in alarm. “She's not doing this. Are you insane? He's setting her up. Ramie, you can't do this.”

“When did he call it in?” Ramie asked. “How did he call it in? How do you know it's him?”

Dane grimaced. “This morning. He called the Houston police. Left a message for you.”

Ramie stared back at Dane in shock.

“It's why I wanted to get a sketch artist to draw his face,” Eliza said. “Leak it to the press. Post it on the Internet. Get people looking for him. Houston's a big city. We don't even know that he's here, only that he called the downtown precinct and told them to let Ramie St. Claire know that she couldn't hide from him forever and that he was waiting for her and until then he'd found someone else to entertain him.”

“Detective Ramirez wanted to bring Ramie in,” Dane said. “We told him we were sitting on you and that he was trying to draw you out.”

“You have to beat him at his own game, Ramie,” Eliza said, her gaze sharp and piercing.

Ramie slowly swiveled her head in Caleb's direction, question in her eyes. Not a question of whether she should do it or not. But the question of whether he was with her. Whether he'd be here for her.

He sat next to her and slid his hand over her leg to catch her fingers between her knees. He laced their fingers together and squeezed reassuringly, even though the last thing he felt was confident.

He hadn't felt so much fear since the day Tori had been abducted. Nor as helpless. He wasn't used to having so little power or control over his surroundings. He was always in command but over the last year, he'd been anything but.

“I'll be here, Ramie,” he murmured. “I'm not going anywhere. But I need you to promise me something.”

“What?” she asked, her eyes never leaving his face.

“I don't really know how to say what I'm thinking because I don't truly understand how your powers work, but if it gets bad, promise me you'll pull back. Don't stay there with him. Come back to
me
.”

She sucked in a breath. “I'll try.”

He didn't like how unconfident she sounded. How uncertain. And how afraid. Her voice trembled, her lips quivering slightly. She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing nervously at the tender flesh.

He thumbed her lip from her teeth and soothed the ravaged skin. Then he leaned in and brushed a kiss over her mouth.

“I'll be here the entire time.”

Ramie closed her eyes, relief settling over her features. She leaned toward him, resting her forehead against his. He framed her face with his palms and then moved his lips up to press another kiss over her brow.

For several minutes, they sat that way, their breaths mingling and mixing. He stroked a hand down her hair, soothing her or perhaps himself.

“What the hell is going on?”

Caleb turned to see Quinn standing in the doorway to the living room, Beau right behind, coming to stand next to him. They were both wearing frowns and Beau's gaze darted between Caleb and Ramie. His frown deepened as though he sensed the heavy undercurrent in the room.

“Caleb?” Beau queried. “I just left Tori's room. She's upset. You should go up and talk to her.”

Caleb felt Ramie stiffen next to him, and he cursed under his breath. Beau and Quinn both didn't want Ramie here. Not when it upset Tori so badly. But there was no way in hell he was leaving her to shoulder her burden alone. Especially not when she was going back into the mind of a victim and a killer.

Eliza stood, crossing her arms as she stepped between Ramie and Caleb's brothers as if shielding her from their disapproval.

“HPD is coming in,” Dane interrupted as he glanced down at his phone. “You'll need to let them past security.”

Ramie seemed to make herself even smaller next to Caleb.

“What the hell is the Houston police doing here?” Quinn asked. “We aren't in the city limits here.”

“Ramie is helping them,” Caleb said evenly. “Let them through.”

Beau's gaze narrowed and he studied Ramie in silence, finally allowing his gaze to drift back to Caleb. “If it's so damn hard on her, then why is she agreeing to do it again?”

Caleb could see Ramie's nostrils flare from the corner of his eye. Her fingers curled into tight fists and she stared down at the floor, so quiet he couldn't even hear her breathe.

Finally she raised her head up and Eliza stepped to the side as Ramie stared his brothers down.

“I guess you'll be the judge of how hard it is on me,” she said evenly.

“I'll get the door,” Quinn said, stepping back.

“You need to back off, Beau. You and Quinn both,” Caleb said, anger bristling over him. “Tori isn't the only victim here.”

“That's strange. I'm pretty sure Ramie was nowhere near the place where Tori was held captive. Maybe you've forgotten your priorities but Quinn and I haven't,” Beau said in an equally angry tone.

“Stop it, both of you,” Eliza snapped. “She's not a piece of raw meat for two dogs to fight over. And Beau, Tori isn't the only woman who's suffered. There are a hell of a lot of others out there, and Ramie is seeking justice for all of them. Your sister included.”

Ramie sent Eliza a look of gratitude. Her jaw was clenched tightly, and she refused to even look at Caleb. Damn it. Before Caleb could respond or try to smooth things over with Ramie, Quinn returned to the living room, two men on his heels.

Ramie went pale, her eyes closing. Her hands trembled in her lap and Caleb slid his fingers down her wrist to curl around one fist.

“You aren't alone this time, Ramie,” he assured her.

EIGHTEEN

RAMIE'S
palms became damp, and sweat formed on her upper lip. She sucked air in like a guppy out of water, her chest tight, each breath like fire through her lungs.

She couldn't believe she was willingly putting herself through this again. When she'd sworn not to. She felt like a circus freak show, put on display and expected to perform.

At the very least, it would go down her way. No one else was going to call the shots.

Her jaw was clenched so tightly that her teeth ached. She barely managed to nod as the two detectives introduced themselves. Caleb was impatient and in no mood to prolong the matter. He swiped at his hair and gripped the back of his neck as he listened to the men explain the phone call they'd received from the man stalking Ramie.

She tuned out the voices. Sinister laughter echoed through her mind and she wasn't sure if she imagined it or if he was amusing himself at her expense.

When she realized that evidently everyone expected her to channel the killer right there in the living room while they watched, she shook her head. One of the detectives held out a small handbag, waiting for her to take it. She refused, staring at it like it was a snake. She knew the second she touched it, she'd be pulled into the abyss and this time she wasn't sure if she'd return.

“Ramie?” Eliza said softly. “Tell me how you want to do this. You're the one calling the shots.”

Her mouth went dry and she swallowed painfully. She nodded her acceptance but made no move toward the detective holding the clutch. There was dirt on it.

And blood.

She stared at the purse, dread tightening her chest and stomach.

Caleb pulled her into his arms, turning his back to the rest of the room, shielding her from view. He pressed his lips to the top of her hair. His arms were strong around her. Implacable.

She stood silently, absorbing his strength, preparing for the onslaught ahead. Steeling herself, she stepped away from Caleb and then turned her focus on the two detectives.

“Not here,” she said in a low voice. “Give it to Caleb. I'll do it upstairs.”

Detective Ramirez exchanged looks with the other detective and then cleared his throat. “This is evidence. I'd prefer not to let it out of my sight.”

“Do you want to find her?” Ramie interjected bluntly.

Beau and Quinn had identical looks of distaste on their faces, but she wouldn't let them shame her. She had to be strong. Ruthless. Or she'd never get through this.

“Everyone out,” Caleb said tersely.

Eliza hesitated, glancing at Caleb. “Do you want me to stay?”

“No,” Ramie said quietly. “Just Caleb. He's seen it before. He knows what it's like.”

Caleb flinched, regret simmering in his dark eyes. “Go,” he said in a low voice. “I'll take care of her.”

“I'd like to tape her,” Detective Briggs spoke up.

“Absolutely not,” Caleb said before Ramie could launch her own protest. She was horrified and appalled. The very last thing she wanted was her vulnerability broadcast far and wide. All it would take is one leak to the media and the video would go viral all over YouTube and Facebook.

A chill descended, like it had upstairs in the bedroom she had no desire to go back to. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. They'd all think she was crazy or ill. It had to be ninety degrees outside. In October. How did anyone bear the heat for so long?

Caleb noticed though, his gaze sweeping up her arm where chill bumps dotted her skin. He frowned and gestured for the others to leave the room as he'd instructed.

“Are you all right?” Caleb murmured. “Perhaps you shouldn't do this.”

“I just want to get it over with,” she said through her clenched jaw.

Her head was starting to ache fiercely. Nausea welled in her stomach and she hadn't even established a link yet.

“Hurry, please,” she whispered.

Caleb barked orders at the occupants of the room. Ramie broke away from him and sank onto the couch, bending over to stare at the floor. His hand slid over her shoulder and to her nape, gathering her hair between his fingers, tangling and then soothing.

She turned her gaze upward, seeing the small purse in his grasp. She stared at it, holding her breath, wondering what horrors it hid.

Caleb lowered himself to one knee in front of her, not extending the bag yet. She ran her hands up and down her legs, feeling the rasp of the worn denim beneath the pads of her fingers.

Sucking in a deep breath, she tentatively reached for the bag and blackness consumed her. Dizzyingly, she spiraled down, screams so loud in her ears that she was nearly deafened.

The scent of blood was overpowering. Metallic and acrid. It burned her nose, assaulted her senses. She knew with certainty that it was too late for this victim. She'd never had a chance.

There was a gasp of awareness in Ramie's mind. The victim thought she was already dead and that the sudden burst of warmth in her mind was an angel. Ramie didn't dissuade her. Instead she tried to comfort the dying woman the only way she could.

“I won't let him get away with this,” she whispered to the victim. “Justice will be served.”

“Thank you,” the woman whispered.

Ramie's head exploded, darkness engulfing her. Evil so strong, so radiant it was like a black hole sucking her inward.

“I've been waiting for you,” he murmured. “Amusing myself until you arrived. Now that you're here . . .”

“No!” Ramie screamed just as the woman's eyes went glassy with death.

His laughter echoed in her tormented mind. Where was she? Why hadn't she come back? The victim was dead, no longer holding the link alive through Ramie.

“I'll keep collecting them,” he whispered silkily. “You can't stop me. But you can give yourself to me. You for them. You would keep me entertained, Ramie. They can't. They're too weak. They give up too easily.”

“I'll kill you,” she said in a savage whisper.

He laughed again and she felt the brush of his fingertips on her skin. Repulsed, she tried to withdraw, tried to sever the connection he was holding to her. Blood pumped through her head, pulsing violently at her neck as she fought back.

Pain assaulted her. She couldn't breathe. Blood, there was so much blood. Everywhere, covering her hands, her clothing. She glanced down at the woman, at all the blood seeping from the still-warm body.

“Ramie! Ramie! Goddamn it, come back to me!”

So far away. Someone calling her name. It was a jolt to her system and she realized that she'd quit fighting. That she was slowly being sucked away from Caleb, dying inexplicably.

She was being shaken. Caleb was shouting at her not to go. Cold. She was so very cold.

She floated, buoyant, so light. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared into the face of death. He was strangely beautiful, not at all like the demon she imagined. He looked benign, his features sculpted like art.

His teeth flashed. Perfectly straight, impossibly white. This was not a man who blended in. He would draw notice wherever he went. How could he have escaped capture for so long?

“People see what they want to see, Ramie,” he murmured, his breath hot on her face. He tilted his head this way and that, sliding his finger gracefully down her jawline. His smile was gentle, a caress. Satisfaction . . . ​victory, shone back at her. She blinked and then closed her eyes, searching within herself for the power to fight back.