Embrace of Darkness

by Bilinda Sheehan

  “Anyone would have tried to do the same,” he said quietly.

  “Even you?”

  He lifted his face to mine. “For the right person I would do whatever it took…”

  His gaze was so earnest that it forced me to look away.

  The pain of losing Graham was too much and in Nic’s eyes, I could see such empathy as though he knew exactly how I was feeling. I knew if I pressed myself against him, climbed into his lap and tucked my head into the curve of his throat, the agony would lessen, even for a moment. And I wanted that. I wanted it so badly I could practically taste it.

  But with everything I knew, how was I supposed to trust the voice in my head urging me to accept the comfort I knew he could give? Was it driven by the genuine feelings I had for him, or—and this was painful to even contemplate—was my overwhelming desire for his touch caused by him sharing a piece of his soul with me? If I gave in and this was just a side-effect of his healing me, how would I cope when it wore off and he went right back to trying to kill me?

  We were mortal enemies…

  Clinging to the tattered shreds of willpower I had left, I gripped the edge of the table and pushed onto my feet.

  “What are you doing? You need to sit and—”

  I shook my head. “I need to see him,” I said, raising my hand to silence the mutinous expression I saw in his eyes. “There are clues in there, ones that will lead me to his murderer.”

  Nic continued to look unconvinced.

  “I owe him everything, Nic,” I said. “Let me do this for him…”

  “Fine…” He managed to fill the word with exhaustion but he let me move around him without interference.

  My legs felt as though they’d been crafted from jelly, my knees weakening with every step I took. The distance between my seat and the door to Graham’s office suddenly looked impossibly vast and I wondered if it wouldn’t be better to turn and flee back to the safety of the chair and Nic’s arms.

  Steeling my resolve, I straightened my shoulders. Graham had taught me to face my fears head on. He’d never been derelict in his duty, never shied away from facing the horrors of the job. He never hid from the monsters we hunted; monsters that were nightmares made real.

  If he could do it, then so could I.

  I reached the door and gripped the frame with my shaking hands. The dark carpet was darker than it should have been and was still sticky with Graham’s blood. The metallic tang clung resolutely to the air but now it was overlaid with something worse, fetid and rotten. My fingers curled as I fought the urge to cover my mouth and nose.

  The soles of Graham’s shoes faced the open doorway, painted rust red from the blood drying there. My eyes travelled up over his legs, the right one bent at the knee, the other lying limply to the side. They made me think of a doll’s limbs tossed callously aside by their owner.

  I reached his waist. The end of his shirt was untucked and lay over his trousers. The hem of the normally pristine white shirt was stained with the same blood that covered the soles of his shoes. My eyes travelled upwards and my breath caught in the back of my throat as I reached the upper portion of his torso. It took me a moment to piece together the scene and when I did, vomit spilled up my throat and I spun away, making it only as far as the waste paper basket next to a desk outside the office door.

  Collapsing to my knees, I gripped the basket and proceeded to rid myself of my last meal. Once empty, my stomach continued to heave, as though I could physically expel the images from my brain out through my mouth.

  Closing my eyes, I counted backwards from ten, praying my stomach would settle enough that I could do what my job demanded. But as soon as my eyes were shut, the macabre scene sprung up behind my eyelids.

  “His head—”

  “I had no choice, he was going to kill you.”

  With my eyes closed, I nodded and fought to swallow past the acrid taste of vomit in my mouth.

  “Amber, there are others who can do this, others who can—”

  I shook my head, shrugging free of the gentle hand Nic had placed on my shoulder. The same gentle hand that had wielded the machete which severed Graham’s head from the rest of his body.

  “No, I have to do this, Nic, he was my—” The words stuck in the back of my throat. “He was my friend and I owe him this...”

  Nic crouched next to me, carefully tucking a stray strand of my hair back behind my ear. His compassionate gaze found mine.

  “You need to let someone else do this,” he said. “It’s too much. Graham wouldn’t want you putting yourself through this.”

  I opened my mouth to fight him but Nic took my hands firmly and pulled me to my feet.

  “No arguing, Amber, you tried…” he sighed and the unspoken words hung in the air between us.

  “I failed…” Hot tears pricked at my eyes but I fought to keep them in check.

  “You’re not God,” he said, gently cupping my cheek. “You can’t hold yourself responsible for—”

  The sound of the door to the office slamming open made me jump.

  My stomach dropped into my boots as I spotted Jason marching through the office. Why the hell would Nic call him of all people?

  “What the fuck, little brother, why the cryptic—” Jason halted mid-sentence, his expression shifting from bemused to angry as he spotted Nic’s hands on my shoulders. “Am I interrupting something?”

  Jason’s gaze searched my face, concern quickly replacing the anger that had ignited in his eyes. “What happened? Are you hurt? Did he do this?”

  He fired the questions at us machine gun fast and I opened my mouth to answer but Jason crossed the room in two large strides and came to a halt directly in front of us.

  “Amber, I—”

  I knew the moment he saw Graham’s body stretched out on office floor. Jason’s mask of concern slipped, unbridled horror taking over as he took in the scene.

  “Jesus Christ! What the fuck?” He started as though he meant to move toward the office and then changed his mind, turning his attention first to his brother and then to me. “What happened?”

  “He was murdered,” Nic said. The moment he said the words aloud, I felt the air in my lungs constrict as though it had become somehow trapped.

  “Well, I already guessed he didn’t decapitate himself,” Jason hit back. “I asked what happened?”

  “We don’t know.” Nic shrugged. “We got back from the hospital and Amber was checking in with her boss when we found him dead.”

  I wanted to speak but the words refused to form, leaving me to stand there mute.

  “And how did he lose his head?” Jason narrowed his eyes. “And before you come up with some cock and bull story about not knowing how he lost his head, I know that’s your machete in there, little brother. So lying is definitely not in your best interest right now…” Jason’s gaze flickered to my face. “Even if it’s done with the best of intentions.”

  The implication in his words was clear. He believed I was responsible for Graham’s death, whether directly or indirectly. He was holding me accountable.

  Not that I could blame him. He knew what I was. If I’d been him, I’d have blamed me too…

  I might not have struck the killing blow but there was no doubt in my mind that Graham was dead because of me. The message on the wall was proof of that.

  “He tried to kill Amber,” Nic said. “I had no choice but to intercede.”

  Under other circumstances the mixture of shock and bafflement that swamped Jason’s face might have made me laugh but with Graham’s blood drying under my fingernails, I couldn’t bring myself to find the humour in the situation. Instead, I started to shiver and Nic’s grip on me momentarily tightened, his touch comforting.

  “You said he was dead,” Jason said.

  Give that man a cookie…

  “Good job, Captain Obvious,” Nic said, managing to sound both irritated and bored at the same time. “Considering our line of work, when has death ever stopped an
attack from occurring?”

  Jason’s gaze slid to my face once more, his countenance softening. If I hadn’t witnessed his behaviour out at the water’s edge not that long ago, I might have thought he cared about me. But I knew the look in his eyes was little more than a lie. He didn’t care for me. He was obsessed and there was a world of a difference between those two emotions. It made him so much more dangerous to me than any monster that might seek me to test its power against mine.

  “I need to go and wash up,” I said suddenly breaking the moment entirely.

  “I can’t let you do that,” Jason said with a sigh, tearing his gaze away from my face. “If that’s Graham’s blood, then it’s evidence.”

  “Come on, Jason, making her stand around covered in his blood is cruel, even by your standards…” There was an edge to Nic’s words that sent a shiver down my spine.

  “I don’t make the rules, little brother.” He darted a look at me. “Everything and everyone that came into contact with the body and the room is now evidence. I want you both to wait here.” He indicated the chairs at the next desk over. “I’m going to secure the scene and call the others in.”

  Nic opened his mouth to argue but Jason’s expression grew stony. “If you fight me on this, I will consider you an accessory to the crime, Nicholas, and as such will charge you and Amber with Graham’s murder.”

  For a moment it looked like the two brothers would go to war with one another. Jason’s hands curled into fists at his sides and the tension in the room shot up, making it difficult to draw breath.

  “We’ll stay,” I said quietly. I didn’t want to fight. What I really wanted to do was climb into a scalding hot shower and scrub until every last drop of Graham’s blood was cleaned from my skin. But Jason was right, I couldn’t do that, not when I was wearing the evidence.

  Every last scrap of it would have to be mapped, catalogued, and photographed. Samples would have to be taken. Not to mention the fact that someone was gong to have to walk the scene in there…

  I wanted to do it so badly it made my teeth ache but after my earlier reaction, I wasn’t entirely sure I could. I wanted to go to him, sit with him, and be there for him. After all, there was nothing else I could do. But the more I thought about it, the more I found myself unwilling to set foot anywhere near the room where his body lay.

  I sat on the seats Jason pointed to, shame burning on my face. How could I call myself Graham’s friend when I didn’t even have the guts to enter the room where he now lay?

  “Stop it,” Nic said, crouching down in front of me. His hands closed over mine, his warmth sliding into my bones. “Stop blaming yourself for every little thing, Amber.”

  “I should be in there with him, Nic,” I said my voice hoarse. “I should be the one to walk the scene, see what he saw…”

  “We’ve been over this,” he said patiently. “There is no shame in grieving for him, you know? It doesn’t make you weak, Amber, it makes you human.”

  “But he deserves more…” The tears I’d been holding at bay started to fall. Nic climbed into the chair next to me, drawing me in against his chest. He held me without saying a word. All the things I’d worried about before suddenly didn’t matter anymore.

  Only the feeling of his arms around me, the scent of his skin, and the warmth he radiated mattered. And so I gave myself to the emotions I’d been fighting and clung to him as I cried for Graham. Everything he could have been, everything he meant to me, everything he would never see, or touch, or know.

  And no matter how much of the pain I released, it did nothing to ease the void I felt.

  3

  The buzzing from the overhead lights drilled into my brain, making it hard to hold onto one thought for more than a second. Images flipped continuously through my mind, as I retraced all of my steps, over and over. I’d missed something. Had I missed something?

  Why him?

  Why now?

  What did the words scrawled on the wall mean?

  Digging my fingers into the edge of the plastic seat beneath me I tried to use the pain to focus my mind. But no sooner had I found a sort of relief than the memory of Graham’s face, frozen in terror, filled my head once more.

  Whoever had done this had enjoyed their work, staging the body was for maximum effect.

  Staging Graham, I corrected myself. He wasn’t just a body. Oh god, I was thinking of him as nothing more than a body now, reducing this to nothing more than another case I needed to work. He was a human being. A man. He was my friend. He was as close to family as anyone.

  Tears clouded my vision and I scrubbed my hand across my face in attempt to swipe them away. The moment my bloodied fingers brushed my cheek, I jerked my hand away.

  Despite having the blood scraped out from beneath my nails, Jason still wouldn’t release me to wash my hands.

  They had my clothes. I was wearing one of the white crime scene boiler suits and with the air-con on high, the thin material was no protection against the artic air blowing out of the overhead vents.

  Nic prowled up and down the office, like some sort of caged animal. He’d given up his seat next to me in favour of pacing and while I missed the touch of his skin beneath mine, I was also a little grateful for the space. Skin to skin contact wasn’t conducive to my being able to think clearly. And I needed to think.

  You have only one father.

  The words painted in blood on the wall of Graham’s office kept coming back to haunt me. They meant something, I was sure of it. But who would write something like that on the wall? Was it someone who knew what I’d done to my father? But if that were true, and they were trying to teach me a lesson, why come after Graham at all?

  Nothing made sense.

  “The techs are finished with you for now,” Jason said, managing to sneak up on me. My heart leaped in my chest before starting to hammer against my ribs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He sounded genuine enough but I’d seen beneath the mask of geniality he seemed to be hiding behind now and I wasn’t falling for this new act.

  “Do you need a ride back to your apartment?”

  “I can take her,” Nic said, before I could form an answer of my own.

  “Afraid not,” Jason said, with only the barest hint of pleasure. “You’ve got some questions to answer so I need you to stick around for when they walk the scene.”

  “Maybe I should stay…” I said but both men shook their heads, almost in perfect unison. They didn’t see eye to eye on many things but clearly there were some situations they still agreed on.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jason said.

  “Why because you think I can’t handle it?” I fired back hotly. Anger was an emotion I understood, it was one I could deal with. It cleared my mind like nothing else, gave me purpose and strength.

  “Not exactly,” he said, before awkwardly clearing his throat.

  “You’re a suspect, Amber,” Nic said, before his brother could say another word.

  “What?” I hopped to my feet, inwardly cringing at the weird crinkling noise made by the plastic suit I wore. “You can’t seriously believe I would hurt Graham, that I would…” I choked off, unable to finish the sentence. It was too painful to even think about it.

  “We don’t know what happened here, yet,” Jason said, glaring at his brother. “We’re in the dark and well we’ve got to do this one by the book.”

  “And what does that mean?” I kept my voice low and steady.

  “It means until we can clear you, we’ve got to act accordingly. There are those who would see you hang for this, Amber. I have no choice but to cover all my bases in order to clear you.”

  “In short,” Nic said, “you’re the number one suspect and I’m your accomplice.”

  It hurt to think anyone could think me possible of something so terrible, I loved Graham. But I wasn’t a fool. I knew how it all looked. Jason had walked in on me covered in Graham’s blood. I had defensive wounds from when he’d at
tacked me but there was always more than one way to spin a story.

  He was doing his job. And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, my fate rested in his hands now.

  “I didn’t kill him,” I said flatly.

  “I don’t think you did,” Jason said. “No matter what my brother might want you to believe about me, I’m not the monster he wants to paint me as.”

  I bit back the words that hovered on the tip of my tongue. He wasn’t a monster but I couldn’t trust him either. Obsession had a nasty habit of turning deadly and I did not want to be on the receiving end of Jason’s emotions when it all went to shit.

  “But we can’t have you here when we walk the scene. Some might say you influenced the outcome in your favour and when I exonerate you, I want it to be beyond reproach.”

  I couldn’t argue with his logic.

  “Fine, I’ll go.”

  Jason’s eyes bored into my back as I walked away, the intensity of his attention making the spot between my shoulder blades itch. I wanted to look back, to try and get a read on the emotions I knew would be playing across his face. Instead, I kept walking, not pausing until I made it outside the building.

  “Amber!” Nic’s voice instantly calmed the uneasy churning of my mind.

  I waited for him to catch up to me right outside the doors of the Elite. Without a word he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, drawing me into a tight bear hug that crushed the air from my lungs.

  “We’ll get through this,” he said softly, speaking into my hair. “I’ll make sure they walk the scene correctly. Whoever is responsible, we won’t let them get away with it.”

  “Whoever killed Graham isn’t going to be stupid enough to get caught out by the Elite’s ability to walk the scene,” I said bitterly. I’d had some time to think about it and the longer I did, the more convinced I became. Whoever killed Graham was professional and strong. Not just anyone could have taken him down like this and if I was right, then this wasn’t going to be something the Elite could fix.