Redeeming the Night (15 page)

“Could be the victim’s. Could be one of his other victims’. Could belong to the kid who stashed it under her pillow.”

“Could be his. If we get a match, then you’ve cracked this case wide open.”

“That would be nice.” Eric ran a hand through his hair. Still caked with blood. “Then I can get home.”

Aaron grunted. “Damn it, man, don’t make me wait to talk around feds. What’s happening here?”

“Fine. You want the truth?” Eric leaned in so his mouth was inches away from Aaron’s ear. “She’s a succubus, I’m a werewolf, and we just fought off two demons. One changed back into a woman, and the other got away.”

Aaron’s eyes were wild when he pulled away. “Fuck you, man. If you don’t want to tell me, fine.” He stalked away. The glance over his shoulder seemed more worried than angry.

It was practically dawn when they got back to the hotel room.

Ashley had been quiet the whole ride back. Her expressionless face stared straight ahead most of the time. Now and then she’d glance down to pluck at the dried blood on the hem of her shirt.

She’d jerked away every time the investigative unit tried to have her change, so they’d scraped and cut off what they needed while she cradled Nichole. Eric had had to hold her back while they bagged her friend’s body. But even the struggle she put forth was half-hearted. When the life drained from Nichole’s body, the fight drained from Ashley.

He turned the radio to an oldies station for the ride and didn’t attempt small talk. Most likely, she didn’t care what happened with the police, so he didn’t fill her in.

She looked haggard and worn when they rode up in the elevator. About halfway up, she seemed to note her appearance. She straightened her clothes and combed her fingers through her hair. When the elevator doors opened, a peal of laughter from behind a closed door made her flinch.

No sooner did they enter his room than Ashley began to pace the floor.

“Are you okay?” he asked, though he knew full well that she wasn’t.

“I killed her.”

“No—” He stepped toward her.

“No.” She held up her hand to stop him. “I left her. I knew she was in danger. So what did I do? I left her in the care of an innocent teacher, in a school full of innocent girls. Then what did I do? I led them straight to her. They couldn’t find her. They needed me. They used me,” she cried. “They
used
me.”

She stormed to the window, opened the curtains, looked out over the Strip, and then closed them quickly. “Men will hurt you.” She seemed to mimic someone. “They will lie to you, cheat you to get what they want, and use you.” She coughed out a sob. “That’s what the Mother would say.” She began to shake with her tears. “It’s what they all said. But they were no better than what they said men were.

He wanted to help, but in the face of her pain, all he could do was try again to wrap his arms around her. This mother creature wouldn’t let this be the end of it. Ashley was a loose end. At just the thought of the woman in his arms in danger, he could feel the beast within him fight to surface.

Once the weeping subsided, he said, “They will be coming for you next.”

“Yes,” she said, her face still pressed against his chest.

“The question is: how did they track you?”

Her brow furrowed. “I tracked you by following the bit of me that had become a part of you. But I could see it. Nichole could see the part of you in me. If the Mother or Tarma left a part of themselves
in
me or Nichole, I would be able to tell. So that can’t be it.” She shook her head and paced away. Shoving her hands in her pockets she stopped and her eyes widened. Slowly, she pulled her hand out. When her fingers opened he could see a black onyx ring in her palm, just like the one she wore.

She placed Nichole’s ring on the dresser. “That’s got to be how they are doing it,” she said, unable to look away from it.

He took her shoulder and made her face him. Then he lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes. “Well then take it off.”

It was simple enough. Slip off the ring. She knew what Tarma and the Mother were now. The sisterhood wasn’t the blessing she’d believed for so many decades.

She knew all of this, and yet she couldn’t let it go. The power and the sense of purpose had sustained her all of this time. No matter its origin, it saved her when she needed it. Removing the ring felt like turning her back on it and throwing it away.

Eric watched her expectantly. To him, it was the logical choice. He would probably give up being a werewolf in a second.

Nichole had done it. She’d given it up without a moment’s hesitation. For Nichole, the choice was simple—she’d wanted to be happy, she hadn’t needed power, she’d known the right path when she saw it, so she leapt.

If I had chosen when Nichole had, she would still be alive.

Tears rose again, and Ashley blinked them away. She wouldn’t hesitate anymore. She gripped the band and tugged. It wouldn’t move. No matter how she twisted and wriggled, the black band seemed permanently attached.

“What’s wrong?” Eric asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as if readying to launch himself into a brawl.

“I can’t get it off.” The indecision of a moment ago was replaced by panic. Suddenly, ridding herself of the cursed thing meant immediate life or death. She ran into the bathroom, selected the complimentary bottle of lotion, and squirted it on the ring. Pulled and twisted. She dug her nails under the band and tugged.

She shifted to an extremely overweight person, and the ring expanded. Then she shifted to a child. She yanked. With every shift, the ring shifted with her. Fat, thin, big, little. Maybe if she shifted and pulled fast enough, at just the right time …

Finally, Eric’s arms reached into the flurry of images and caught her shoulders. “Easy,” he whispered. “We’ll figure something out.”

“You were right. They’ll come after me next. They’re probably hunting me down now.” She rested her head against his broad shoulder. Even in her current state she realized he was the steady force she wanted. If only she could give up the ring, the power, the strength.

But, if they caught up to her, they would find him as well. “I have to leave.”

He caught her arm even as she turned away. “Not a chance.” He scooped her off her feet.

“You’re in danger.”

“So what if I am? It wouldn’t be the first time.” After he placed her on the bed he opened the mini fridge and passed her a bottle of water. “Besides, I don’t know if you were watching me tonight, but I think I handled myself rather well.”

The cool water eased her aching throat. He
had
torn Lena to shreds. He handled himself so well that Tarma had fled rather than try to take them both on. He’d saved her life tonight. “You were amazing.”

He smiled at the compliment even as he answered his ringing phone. He listened for a few minutes and then said, “I’m on my way.” To her, he said, “Another girl was taken. I have to go.” She began to stand, but he laid a hand on her shoulder. “No, you should stay here.”

She took his hand in her own and stood. “They can get to me here.”

“There is surveillance all over the place in this hotel.” He waved his free hand toward the ceiling. “Nothing can happen without it being seen and recorded.”

“They can change their appearance. They can be anyone. Surveillance won’t make a difference. They could look like a senator if they wanted to.” She laid a hand on his cheek. “They could look like you.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “Fine, but you’ll need to be in disguise.”

It took some negotiation. He insisted she use a form she’d never used before. Finally, he took out his phone and flipped to a picture of his old partner. “This is my old partner. Can you be her?”

She looked at the phone and smiled. He had to be joking. “We are going to a crime scene, and you want me to look pregnant?”

“Oh.” The irritation packed into that word, coupled with the way his brow furrowed as he flipped for a different picture, struck her as funny. Despite the seriousness of their situation and the hell of the last twenty-four hours, she couldn’t help but laugh quietly.

“Use this one of her,” he said, handing her the phone again and rolling his eyes as she struggled to quell the fit of giggles.

When she got a hold of herself, she reviewed the picture and passed the phone back. “I’ll wait to change until we’re in the car.” She waved her hand like he had. “There are eyes everywhere, and we don’t want people thinking you’ve got a harem stashed in your room.”

• • •

At the stoplight just before the upscale Henderson neighborhood he glanced at her. He did a double take. It was as if Lydia were sitting shotgun, just like old times. “Uncanny. Do you sound like her, too?”

“I could, but I’ve never met her,” Ashley said. Then she frowned. “Will that be a problem?”

He thought for a minute. “No, it’s fine. None of them have either.” He made the turn. “Still, I’d rather introduce you as an assistant with another name.”

“Rose Bailey,” she said. And when he shot a look in her direction, she explained, “I had an elderly neighbor once. She would feed me when no one else could be bothered. It was her name.”

“Okay,
Rose
, just follow my lead and let me do the talking, okay?”

“Not a problem. I don’t have any delusions of being a detective.”

Eric pulled the car in behind a black and white with its lights on. A quick survey of the street revealed the feds had already arrived.

Another child stolen from the home of a wealthy family. Was the kidnapper simply becoming more refined in his tastes? They exited the vehicle and Eric muttered, “Here we go.”

They approached the uniformed officers stationed at the front door, and Eric displayed his ID. “We were called to consult by Detective Decker.”

After a moment of close examination, the officer nodded to a man in a suit who stood just behind him. This man spoke into a walkie-talkie. A short while later, the door opened, and Aaron motioned for them to enter.

To his credit, Aaron didn’t hesitate a beat when Eric introduced Ashley as his assistant, Rose, though his gaze swept over her before he led them upstairs. Did his eyes hesitate while looking at her abdomen? Did Aaron recognize Lydia and say nothing? Faced with that level of trust, Eric knew he should trust Aaron in return. However, the stretch would still be greater on Aaron’s part. Believing in werewolves wouldn’t be easy.

“Victoria Gunderson, twelve, disappeared from her bedroom between midnight and four a.m.” Once again, Aaron knew the way through the maze of hallways, so he led the way. “She stayed up late watching a movie with her parents, and then when her mother was up in the middle of the night and saw her door closed she decided to check on her and found nothing. She is similar to the other girls who were taken in hair, eyes, and general facial and body structure.

“Crime scene unit has gone over the room already, but let’s not disturb anything if we can avoid it.” He handed them gloves and booties to go over their shoes. Once they were properly garbed he opened the bedroom door. “I think he was caught by surprise with this one.”

Where Olivia’s room had been decorated in pastels, Victoria’s was done in earth tones. The effect was peaceful. A yoga mat lay in the middle of the floor on one side of her bed. In a far corner stood an overstuffed easy chair. An entire wall held a wide variety of books and what appeared to be fantasy statues, unicorns, and dragons. On the floor near the chair, standing on its pages as if dropped, was a book with a blue cover.

Ashley crossed the room to it. A yellow marker with a number two stood beside the book. Aaron cleared his throat as she bent to retrieve the book. Her fingers paused in midair. She gripped them into a fist and read the spine of the book aloud. “
Witch Way to Turn
, by Karen Y. Bynum.” She looked at the men, then back at the book. “We need to leave it?”

“Yes,” they said together.

Where Victoria’s life was similar to Olivia Koburn’s, it differed from Suzie Hogan by leaps and bounds. If it weren’t for his nose, Eric wouldn’t believe the three kidnappings and Susie’s murder were connected. The only evidentiary way to connect them was the dolls. Not that anything about the dolls had proven traceable either.

“Did we find a doll?” Eric asked.

“Yes. Dressed for bed.” Aaron turned to face the bed.

The bed hadn’t been touched. It looked like the kidnapper had interrupted her reading. But the book was not the only thing out of place. Several of the girl’s shoes were scattered away from the wall where three other pairs were aligned. “They struggled.”

Aaron nodded.

“Where was the doll found?”

Aaron raised a finger. “That’s why I think she did some damage when she fought back. The working theory is that he leaves the doll where he finds them. Susie, on the street. Olivia, sleeping in her bed. Victoria’s doll was found propped at an awkward angle against the shelving here.” He indicated a yellow marker with a black number one on it. “It was dressed in a blue nightshirt and gray sweatpants. Her mother confirmed it resembled what she wearing at the time of her disappearance.”

“He expected her to be sleeping. That’s why she surprised him.” Ashley could visualize a dark figure sneaking into the room only to find his intended prey reading and not as easy to capture as he thought.

Eric nodded, his eyes somber, but his approval of her statement evident in the small twitch in the corner of his mouth. It warmed her.

“The drapes are blackout curtains,” Aaron said. “He had no idea she was still awake until he’d already gotten inside. We found no blood or hair, so she didn’t get him as good as we would hope. But she stood her ground and made enough ruckus that he dropped the doll here, rather than leave it in the chair or tuck it into bed. He grabbed her and left in a hurry. She struggled, but he fought to take her anyway. Either he really wanted her, or”—he raised an eyebrow—“she saw him and he couldn’t risk her identifying him.”

“If she knew her kidnapper that would give us a lead at least. Otherwise, we know how this will end,” Eric practically growled. A cool hand rested on his arm. With a glance into Ashley’s eyes he knew she shared his hurt.