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averted his gaze with a quick, angry jerk of his head.
 No, Ashley said through clenched teeth.  I want you to look at me. Really look.
This is who I am. If you can t even look at me, you may as well walk out that door right
now.
Will looked at the dead man on the floor, then raised his eyes to hers, his expression
closed off and unreadable. She smelled his sweat, heard the thump of his heartbeat.
This was it, she thought. She had pushed him too far. She clenched her fists and
turned away, so he wouldn t see the tears in her eyes. She waited for him to walk out the
door, but he didn t move. She turned to face him.  Well, what are you waiting for? she
asked, her voice husky.
 I m not going to leave. I just& I ve seen so many people killed. I m sick of it. But I
shouldn t have said those things to you.
Her throat tightened, and she blinked back tears. Her knees felt like water. He wasn t
leaving. She wanted to weep with relief at that revelation, but somehow, she managed to
hold onto her self-control.  I need to wash my hands.
He nodded.
She went into the kitchen and scrubbed the blood from her hands using the hottest
water she could stand. Steam rose from the sink as she scraped the blood out from under
her nails and watched the pinkish water swirl around the drain. Once her hands were
clean and dry, she walked back into the living room.
Will sat on the couch, hands on his knees. He was pale, his face drawn.  Should we
call the police?
She crossed her arms over her chest.  No. Either this man was sent by a vampire or
he was sent by Blaine. Either way, there s not much the cops can do. They don t deal
with the supernatural. And right now, a police investigation will just slow us down and
make it harder for us to do our job.
 You think Blaine might have sent this man?
She nibbled a thumbnail, thinking.  It s possible. If his mental abilities are as strong
as a vampire s, he could mind-wipe someone and send them to do his dirty work. Maybe
he wanted to get us before we could get him.
 But how would he even know about us?
 I don t know. It s possible he s been keeping tabs on Dr. Abel, watching him. If so,
he d know if Dr. Abel hired an assassin to kill him. It was also possible, she supposed,
that a vampire had sent the vessel. Plenty of vampires didn t like her. But most wouldn t
dare try to kill her, knowing what Victor would do to them. She met Will s gaze.  Were
you able to get anything out of him? Any information at all?
 I got& something. A flicker. But I don t know if it will be any help to us. Like I ve
said, when I absorb information, it s just a rush of images and feelings. My mind needs
time to digest it before it starts to make any sense. Maybe something will come to me
later. He wiped his forehead with one sleeve.  So what do we do now?
 What do you mean?
His gaze drifted to the bloodstained corpse.  Well, there s a dead body in the middle
of the floor. We can t just leave it there.
 I think we should call Dr. Abel.
Will s gaze lingered on the corpse. Despite his calm expression, there was a glassy
look in his eyes, as if some part of his mind had checked out.  You know, the police may
show up whether we want them to or not. Some neighbors might have heard the
commotion.
 This is a bad neighborhood. People hear things all the time, but they don t usually
bother calling the cops. No one wants to get involved. Anyway, there were no screams or
gunshots.
 That reminds me. Your gun& why didn t it go off?
She checked the Beretta s magazine compartment. Empty.  Victor unloaded it while
I wasn t looking. How had he managed? There hadn t been any time. Unless, of course,
he d clouded her mind. He could have done it when he kissed her. She d been off guard
for a brief moment. She scowled.  And I trusted that bastard to keep his word. I can t
believe I trusted him even for a moment. She took a deep breath. Now wasn t the time to
get pissed.  I'm going to call Dr. Abel. Tell him what happened.
Will was still staring at the body, his eyes unfocused.  Why knives? A gun would
have been easier.
 Maybe Blaine is like Victor. Maybe he thinks guns are for cowards. Or maybe he
just wanted to kill us in a more artistic way. She shrugged.  I don't know how a serial
killer thinks. There was an unpleasant irony in that statement. Ashley herself had killed
multiple people without the approval of the law, so technically, that made her a serial
killer as well.  I'll be right back. She walked through the living room. As she passed the
body, she paused and looked down. A chill raced down her spine. Had she seen him
blink?
Impossible. No one could survive having his throat slit. The sudden loss of blood and
resulting drop in cranial pressure would kill anyone within seconds. Then again&
She crouched and picked up the bloody knife. Better safe than sorry. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]