Tucking a strand of her bright orange bob behind her ear, she scours her computer. “Ah, yes, Ms. Deveraux. I see you called for an emergency appointment this morning. It’s convenient that Dr. Crane could work you in.”
“Yes, how convenient,” I grunt as Odyn kicks the back of my heel with the toe of his heavy sneaker. “I mean, yes, thank you.”
The receptionist hands me a form, and after I sign my name, she smiles. “If you’ll have a seat, I’ll let Dr. Crane know you’re here. It’ll be just a moment.”
I force a smile back and walk away. I’m pacing in front of a small ficus tree when Odyn grabs my arm. “Ms. Deveraux?”
I cock an eyebrow. “Seriously? That’s what you choose to focus on?”
Before he can form a rebuttal, the door opens, and Dr. Crane commands our attention. “Ms. Devereaux, I’m ready if you are.” He turns a stern look toward his receptionist. “Marsha, Ms. Deveraux is my last patient. You’re free to leave.”
“But I can stay. It’s no problem—”
“That will be all, Marsha,” he repeats louder. “See yourself out.”
She swallows hard, nodding as she gathers her belongings and slinks out the door.
He’s the epitome of professionalism, his white lab coat pressed and starched, his blue tie perfectly straight against his charcoal gray suit. Even his combover is polished and styled.
Classically diabolical.
I nod, not trusting my mouth, and follow him down another hallway with Odyn on my heels. It isn’t until we reach the door to his office that he notices we’re not alone.
“I’m sorry, this is a private session.”
“I asked him to come,” I quickly interject before Odyn can say anything. “He’s. . . he’s. . .”
“Her fiancé.” I turn a shocked glare at Odyn, but he refuses to meet my eyes. Instead, he flashes that paradoxical grin of his, angelic in beauty yet wicked in ability, and lies his ass off. “Just popped the question last night. Mila told me she’s been seeing you, and we decided it’d be a good idea to start our life together with no secrets.”
Dr. Crane’s eyes lower, narrowing as they search my left hand. I slide it behind my back as inconspicuously as possible, wishing my fiancé’s balls were in its vicinity so I could twist them into next week.
I stifle a gasp as Odyn grabs the hand tucked behind my back and pulls the third finger toward him. Something cold and metal slides across my skin until it hits the base of my finger, and my heart free-falls into my stomach when I realize what it is.
Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.
I can’t help it. I look.
A crystal-clear square-cut diamond sits above a white-gold band staring back at me. A ring. An engagement ring.
What the hell?
“Well, this is certainly a turn of events.” I glance up to see Dr. Crane, his face etched with just as much confusion. “Mila, the last time we spoke, we were discussing your ex-husband. You neglected to inform me you had . . . other suitors.”
Odyn pulls me close, his familiar scent less of a comfort right now. “It was a whirlwind romance.”
Dr. Crane nods as he walks to his desk. Sinking into his oversized chair, he scribbles onto that damn notepad of his. “I see.”
I don’t want to know where Odyn got a diamond ring, or why the hell he has it on him, but those are questions for later. He’s already opened this box of worms. All I can do is hook one and toss the line.
“Dr. Crane, my fiancé and I have a specific matter we’d like to discuss with you.”
He nods. “Does it concern your problem?”
“My problem?”
“Yes, your unfortunate ability to communicate with the dead.”
Odyn stiffens beside me. “We prefer to think of it more as a gift than a problem, doctor.”
“Odyn!” I bite out through clenched teeth.
Dr. Crane’s head snaps up at my reprimand. He studies Odyn for a few moments before a knowing smirk pulls at his lips. “Odyn Broussard.”
I expect Odyn to explode into another tirade, but to my surprise, the tension in his body relaxes. “Well, that didn’t take long. I assume this means we can drop all the bullshit now.” He gestures a hand between them, the move causing the smirk to slip from the doctor’s face.
“You have a lot of nerve showing your face in my office, Broussard.”
Odyn ignores the jab, leaning forward to wipe imaginary dust off the nameplate sitting proudly at the edge of the desk. “You know, I always wondered how every victim described their killer right down to the birthmark on his neck, yet when they bagged your brother up, he didn’t have one.” He tilts his chin, his eyes locked on a darkened patch of skin above Dr. Crane’s tie. “Now I see why.”
The old man’s gaze never leaves Odyn as he addresses me. “Mila, you should consider re-evaluating the company you allow in your bed when you sleep. They could be the reason you don’t wake up one day.”
Odyn lunges forward. “Are you fucking threatening her, you son of a bitch?”
“Odyn, please!” I wrap both hands around his arm, pulling him back, but it’s like trying to stop a moving train. He’s lost all focus, and now that he’s allowed Dr. Crane to get under his skin, our plan to trick him into giving up my father is shot to hell.
Everything’s up to me now.
“Dr. Crane,” I plead, stepping in front of the six-foot-two ball of fury. “We’re not here to cause trouble or to make accusations.” The lie burns on my tongue, but I press on. “But the Cajun Cremator case is all over the news. You must know that I’m one of the lead detectives on the case.”
He nods. “I do, but it’s not something I planned to discuss unless you chose to—”
“Do you know a man named Elias Marcotte?”
He hesitates. It’s only the briefest of flashes, but it’s enough to solidify an answer in my mind despite his denial. “I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”
I feel like a spider, waiting patiently at the edge of my web as he inches his way toward the sticky strands.
Much like he did to Odyn earlier, I ignore his question and taunt him with a lie. “That’s funny, considering I met with him this morning. He was happy to tell me all about you, Gerard.”
Exit good cop. Enter bad cop.
“I’m afraid you’ve been misinformed, Ms. Devereaux.” Rising out of his chair, he closes what I assume to be my file and tosses it into a black box on his desk. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my time is valuable, and you’ve just wasted it.”
He jumps as I slam my palms against the expensive wood, my temper flaring. “Sit down, doctor. I’m not done yet.” Murderous hate ignites in his eyes, but he obeys, slowly lowering himself back into his chair. “You know what I’m good at, Gerard?” I don’t wait for him to answer. “Backing suspects into a corner. It’s amazing what someone will do when their freedom is on the line. Only one hour of interrogation, and he gave you up.”
“You’re lying.”
“Afraid not. You see, Marcotte told me all about your little partnership. How you picked your victims after they came to you for help. Ones desperate to know if the unexplainable had happened, or if they were just crazy. You sat here listening to them tell you all about how their emotions got the better of them after someone or something they loved died. Maybe they were angry, sad, furious, devastated. Whatever it was they wished for something. They said the words out loud, and something incomprehensible happened. Something that never should’ve been possible. That person came back.”
His fingers curl around the paper calendar on his desk. “I’m warning you—”
“And that’s when you knew. They trusted you, and the whole time you were counting down the minutes until they left so you could call Elias Marcotte and pass along their name. How much did he pay you, doctor? Was the money worth knowing he burned innocent people? Worth knowing he’s going to live while you’re sentenced to death?”
“You stupid girl!” he explodes. “
Just because you’ve captured Elias, do you think this will stop? He’s not the only one in the brotherhood dedicated to bringing the ancient one back. We are everywhere, and nothing you can do will stop us.” Pushing up the sleeve of his suit jacket, Dr. Crane rips off the button securing his shirt around his wrist and pulls it up, revealing the darkened outline of a tattoo. “Once we find the chosen one, they will bring our leader and my twin brother back!”
I blink, unable to turn away as bile churns in my stomach. The tattoo is of an ominous raven perched on top of a battered skull.
“No,” I whisper. The truth almost too much to bear.
“But if you think I’m walking out of here in handcuffs, you’re mistaken, girl.”
In a flurry of movement, Crane grabs a handful of my hair, my hip slamming into an open drawer in his desk as he drags me around it and presses the barrel of a gun against my temple.
“Mila!” Odyn shouts, his voice laced with panic. I catch his eye, silently pleading with him to not do anything stupid.
“Go ahead and kill me,” I croak as best I can with his arm wrapped around my neck. “But I don’t think the brotherhood will be too happy.”
“And why is that?”
“I’m the chosen one, asshole. So you might as well go ahead and pull that trigger because I’d rather die than resurrect your leader or your piece of shit brother.”
An inhuman growl rumbles from Dr. Crane’s chest as he tightens his hold across my throat and shoves the gun harder against my temple. “You fucking bitch!”
“No!” Odyn is nothing but a blur tearing across the room before slamming into both of us. I scream, the brute force of his impact knocking me out of Dr. Crane’s grip just as the gun fires.
The floor is unforgiving, absorbing none of my fall as my hip slams against it. I stay focused and ignore the pain because above me, Odyn and Dr. Crane are still fighting for control of the gun.
There’s not much I can do from the floor, and not enough time to clamber to my feet to be of any use. I shift a quick glance to the right.
But I’m at the perfect angle to do what I wanted to do when I first walked in.
I don’t think. I act.
Balling my fist, I drive it as hard as I can straight into the good doctor’s balls. I hear him suck in a sharp breath, then let out a high-pitched wheeze as he doubles over. The leverage is just what Odyn needs to grab the gun out of his hands and turn the tables, pressing the barrel against the back of his head.
“Mila, get the fuck out of here!” he yells.
Shocked at his tone, I climb to my feet. “Are you crazy? I’m not leaving you!”
“I’ve got this! I can’t worry about you and him at the same time. Now get the fuck out and wait for me at my apartment.”
There’s a hardness in his eyes I recognize. One that I can’t ignore. “Odyn, don’t. Please don’t. I won’t be able to turn my head.” I don’t say the words, but I don’t have to. They’re implied, and he knows exactly what I mean. I took an oath, and despite having my life threatened, I won’t break it. If he puts a bullet in the doctor’s brain, it won’t be self-defense. It will be murder, and I’ll tell the truth.
“Then tell it, but this is mine. He owes me.”
That’s when I understand. This isn’t about protecting me. It’s about avenging her. Lola.
As much as it stings, I understand, and as much as it goes against everything I stand for, I nod. He needs closure, and even though we’ll both pay the price, I’ll give it to him.
Without another word, I grab the discarded file out of the black box and run, never stopping to look back.
Because I, too, need closure.
And after seeing that tattoo, I know exactly where to find it.
Chapter 16
Odyn
The asshole beneath me struggles physically, but I’m struggling mentally. There’s no way he can overpower me, but the thought of Mila, of what she said filters through me.
“You took so much from me,” I tell him, nudging his head with the barrel of the gun. “I should end you right now.” Raising my hand, I slam down the cold metal down against his cheek, reveling in the pained groan that rumbles free from him. “Why did you take Lola?” I question, leaning in closer, needing him to give me answers. Somehow, I don’t think I’ll get them.
“She needed to end. It was part of the plan,” he finally coughs, blood spluttering from his lips where the gun cracked a tooth.
“What plan?”
“There are many things in this world you don’t understand yet, Odyn,” he informs me. “Everything has its place. Each event has a slot in time when it needs to be played out.”
“You’re talking about something I don’t believe in,” I grit out, clenching my jaw so hard I feel the ache.
“Don’t believe, Odyn. It doesn’t matter. Everything they’ve planned will come to pass.” His voice is cracked and husky. Rage blooms deep in my gut, and I bring the gun down against his face, again and again. Blood spurts from the cuts, but I don’t care.
My hands are soaked in the slick fluid. Crimson stains my flesh, but it’s what I needed. Closure for the woman I once loved.
Even though she will always hold a place in my heart, I know it’s no longer her I’m avenging. This is my goodbye to her. My confession as to how much I truly loved her.
Dr. Crane chokes and gurgles as he glares up at me through one eye. The other is mangled. “It will all come to pass.”
The gun slams into his face one more time, and I watch as the light in his eye dims, and he takes one last ragged breath before going limp. The carpet beneath him is soaked, my clothes are stained, and the gun I’m holding is evidence of what just occurred.
As if in a daze, I clean off my prints and shove the weapon into his hand before I rise and leave the office. The first place I stop is the small second-hand clothing store two blocks down, buying a coat and shrugging it on. I need to get back to Mila. I need to talk to her and explain everything.
And I need to explain the fucking ring I put on her finger.
* * *
The moment I step into my apartment, I close my eyes and lean against the door. The wood is the only thing that’s stable right now because I’m shaking. I’ve never been frazzled, not even when I saw my first apparition. But the truth that spilled free right before I ended Dr. Crane was more than I could handle.
Also, I gave Mila a ring tonight.
I gave her the ring I’d bought for Lola. I’m a fucking asshole. I should never have slipped it on her finger, but I couldn’t help it. Deep in my very soul, I had this innate need to do it. And it was all part of their plan.
I was meant to be with her.
I was supposed to fuck her and fall in love with her. She’s always been the chosen one, but our fates became intertwined long ago by the actions of those meant to protect us. Mila would suffer to pay for her mother’s sins, and they were going to kill her to get back at me for my father killing their leader all those years ago. Everything that happens in life is all part of a master plan.
And I’m one of the pawns in the game.
“You’ve learned the truth,” Mya utters, causing me to snap my gaze toward her. She’s standing in the doorway to my balcony, the moon already high in the sky. I should’ve come here sooner, spoken to Mila, but I couldn’t. I needed a moment to process what the fuck happened.
A moment turned into hours, and now I’m here, without Mila, I note. Where the fuck is she? Maybe she got called to another crime scene.
“I did. You knew Mila was coming my way, and you knew why,” I tell her.
“I wanted you to save her, to save both your lives. If you could keep her alive, your heart would be saved as well.” She closes the distance, moving toward me as if on a cloud. When she’s near, she reaches for me, but I don’t feel her. I can’t because I’m not her bloodline. If Mila were here holding my hand, I could’ve possibly felt the connection.
“Toying with the lives of inn
ocents,” I utter in disgust. “None of you are gods. The Elders are merely old fucking men who want to be God, but they’re not.”
“That’s true,” she acquiesces with a nod. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I want my daughter alive. I want her to be safe, to love, to live. I want to one day know that she had a family of her own.”
“You think I’m the one to give that to her? I’ve known her three fucking days.”
“Did you give her the ring for any other reason?” she challenges. Just as feisty as her daughter.
“I . . . I don’t know,” I stutter, running my hand through my hair in frustration. I stalk into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a beer. Snapping the cap off, I take a long gulp and as the bubbles fizz their way down my throat, I turn to Mya. “Where is she?”
“In danger.”
Furrowing my brows, I slam the bottle down. “What the fuck do you mean?”
“Go, Odyn. Go now.”
She’s gone in the next second, and I’m left with questions but no fucking answers. Jesus. I pull out my phone and tap dial on Mila’s number. On the fourth ring, it goes to voicemail. I try again, this time direct to the messaging service. Picking up the glass bottle, I rear back and slam the thing against the wall, shattering it into tiny pieces before grabbing my keys and heading back out the door.
Chapter 17
Mila
It’s late when headlights flash through the double windows in the living room. Standing in the hallway, I smooth a sweaty hand over my white cotton dress and jump as a low rumble of thunder rolls across the sky.
Deep breath.
I have no idea how much time has passed while waiting to hear his heavy footsteps lumber up the front steps, but it’s long enough for me to pace the perimeter of the room six times.
I wring my hands as the door flies open. His six-foot frame hunches over, gripping the wooden molding as he stumbles inside, stopping cold when he sees me. “Mila?”
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