The car passed through the park gate, waved on by the uniform cops securing it. They lurched over the uneven path and down to an area of open ground alive with cars, lights and people in uniforms, in white coveralls, in neat suits, all swarming around a tented area. A light mist of rain was starting to fall.
Reid was right in the thick of it, barking orders. She gave Lily a grim smile when she saw her, but as her eyes alighted on Micah’s face, her jaw sagged. She hid it well, but her eyes were too easy to read.
“This is my friend, Mike,” Lily offered quickly. “And you remember Sam?”
Reid shook Micah’s offered hand, still staring at him. “Mike. Right, Lily mentioned you.” Her eyes darted to Sam and back again. The demon treated her to his most rakish grin. For a moment, Micah wondered if she was going to stand there staring at them until night fell, but suddenly she drew her shroud of professionalism back around her shoulders and took Lily’s arm, leading her towards the tent. “Are you sure about this, Lily? I mean, it’s not pretty.”
Lily drew the corners of her lips back as she tightened her mouth. “I’ve seen it already, remember?”
As Micah and Sam approached the tent, Reid turned. “It’s a bit cramped in there, boys. If you don’t mind waiting out here, you can be sure she’ll be safe with us.”
There was nothing they could do. Lily was swept inside and Sam and Micah were left standing there in the drizzle.
“Well, this sucks.” Sam traced lines in the mud with the toe of his designer shoe. “Don’t suppose you brought an umbrella, did you?” Micah ignored him, studying the tree line off to the right. “What about hoisting up those wings and giving us a bit of shelter?”
“I don’t have wings when corporeal, Sam. I thought you might have noticed that.”
Sam barked out a laugh. “I was a little distracted last night.”
Lily re-emerged, looking even paler, with Reid’s hand on her shoulder. Both her guardian and her seducer moved as one towards her, but a quick glare from her made them stop.
“I want to just walk around the area,” she was saying to Reid, “see what I can pick up first, okay?”
“Whatever you need. You can even bring your bodyguards. Which way?” She gave the two men a grin as she passed them. “Where on earth did you find them, anyway? I’ve been looking in the wrong place.”
“Would you believe they just turned up?” They walked on ahead, heads bowed in conversation.
Micah frowned, unexpectedly uneasy.
“A dangerous combination, those two women,” Sam said as they fell into step behind them.
“Very,” Micah said. “Sam, keep your eyes open. This place doesn’t feel right.”
“Nothing to do with the incinerated body back there?”
“No. I was here with Lily the day you turned up. There were shadows in the trees then, watching the children play. Watching her. I thought I saw them off but, well, here we are, back again.”
Sam pushed out his lower lip as he thought, or sensed the area. “It’s not one of our places.”
“And yet I know what I saw. Keep your eyes open.”
Up ahead, the path curved through the trees and they picked up their pace to catch up with Lily and Reid. As they rounded the bend, Lily stood near the edge of the path, her eyes closed. Micah hurried towards her but Reid stepped back to stop him.
“She’s trying to get a feel for which way the killer went.”
“I’m sure she is, but I need to be with her. I can help her,” he protested. He had to help her. He knew that. No matter how much experience Lily thought she had, he had always been there with her, to guide her and keep her safe.
Reid, however, was unimpressed. “Really. Your arrival here is pretty convenient, isn’t it, Mike? What’s your surname by the way? Lily didn’t say.”
Micah knew that look. It was half threat, half enquiry, all cop. He didn’t have an answer and she knew that. Somehow, she knew it.
Sam’s hand slapped hard onto his shoulder, driving the air from his lungs. “Mike Angel, D.I. Reid. Lily’s oldest friend and a holy pain in my ass. Doesn’t approve of me, you see? Deeply suspicious sort of person. He’s living in Rome these days but that doesn’t stop him hopping on a plane the moment she had me ring. He just came this morning. Or was it last night, Mike?”
The blood drained away from Micah’s face all over again at the barb, but there was nothing he could do about it here and now.
He was about to say something, to fall in with Sam’s artful lie, when he was struck by a space in his world. An absence. A vital thing missing.
Lily was gone.
Chapter Twelve
The leaves all around her whispered words Lily couldn’t quite catch. He had been here, no doubt about that. She would have known even had the charred corpse not indicated as much. She could feel him, taste him on the air. A taint that clung to the shadows between the dense trees—evil, actual physical evil. It reminded her of washing powder, something which should have smelled clean, but instead reeked of chemicals. She stood very still on the cracked concrete path, staring into the depths of the little piece of woodland, where the leaves shifted in the breeze and the voices went on and on.
Behind her, she heard them arguing. Reid, instantly suspicious of poor Micah, had wanted to ask all sorts of questions—would ask them all before she would let him return home with Lily and Sam—but right now she needed whatever Lily could tell her.
The murder scene had been much worse than Lily expected. Knowing Todd was burnt alive, knowing it in a way none of the others present could, because she had felt it last night as if it had happened to her, didn’t help when faced with the sight of the blackened body, the gaping mouth. It would have been over in seconds, Reid assured her, thanks to the accelerant. And yet, it had lasted an eternity for Todd.
Even now the screams echoed around her mind. She’d thought it was Sam. She’d been so relieved when it wasn’t. And now she felt empty, broken, ashamed. Todd was still screaming, and the other voices murmured on, disembodied souls, lost in this dark, dark place. Lily watched the trees and wondered if she should block them out or embrace them. Micah would know, but he couldn’t just pop into her mind now and tell her what to do. Things had changed since he became corporeal, and to be honest she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. It put him in a much more fragile position when it came to Sam, that much was clear.
No. If she was honest, she had put him in that position. She had agreed to Sam’s deal.
She drew in a deep breath and exhaled, trying to shut out the unspoken accusations in Reid’s voice when she spoke to Micah. And Sam’s mellow tones trying to smooth over the cracks the angel’s presence caused. No, she couldn’t ignore it. She turned back, about to tell them to stop, to affirm their hastily concocted tale and hope Reid believed them.
That smell came to her again, clean, but not clean—washing powder, chemicals, detergent.
The bushes rustled behind her and something clamped over her mouth and nose, a huge hand smothering half her face. Panic speared her. She tried to scream but no sound came out. She fell, kicking, struggling, helpless, dragged down into the undergrowth. Twigs and brambles tore at her as he pulled her with him, moving too quickly for her scrabbling hands and feet to gain purchase or fight back.
Lily’s heart hammered at the base of her throat as the figure of her attacker loomed over her, silhouetted against the distant light of safety, his gleaming eyes the only thing she could clearly make out.
A punch to her midsection drove all air from her lungs. He lifted his hand for a second and slapped a length of duct tape across her lips. She tried to scream again, but all that came out was a muffled cry. She kicked out at him but he merely raised an arm and cuffed the side of her head, sending her tumbling down a shallow incline through dead leaves and mulch, to lie at the foot, breathing hard, dazed and terrified.
“I know what you are,” he snarled. “Satan’s whore, handmaiden of the damned.” He lurched over
her and grabbed her by the hair, hauling her to her knees. “M’khashephah lo tichayyah, saith the Good Book, Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.” Something flashed in his gloved hand—a knife—and Lily twisted in his grasp, trying to tear herself free. “We’ll start with the simplest test, bitch, searching for his mark on your body. Undress yourself.”
She tried to scream an obscenity at him. He grabbed her jacket and tore it from her back, tangling it around her arms, effectively binding her. His fingers dug into her skin through the thin fabric of her shirt and ripped it open. Releasing her hair, he pushed her headfirst down into the dirt again so her full back was exposed. The knife blade, cold and precise, bit into her skin at the base of her neck.
She cried out again but he didn’t cut, just pierced her skin a fraction. It lifted and then descended again, not to stab her but to prick her skin, each jab eliciting a desperate cry of pain and helplessness.
“Tell me,” he raged in his frantic low-pitched voice. “Tell me where the unholy one marked you. Tell me what he did. Confess it. Confess your wickedness to me.”
“Lily!” Sam’s voice echoed off the canopy, near, so near to her.
Bodies crashed through the trees behind them, Micah and Sam, tearing a path into the undergrowth for her.
“Lily, where are you?”
“Here!” she tried to yell, but the word was just a single strained vowel. “Here! Here! Oh Jesus, please! Find me here!”
Her attacker’s foot slammed down on her back, pushing her beneath him. He seized her hair again, yanking it so her head jerked back, her neck exposed.
Her inarticulate cry tore its way past the duct tape.
“He’s going to kill me! Do something!”
She jerked down as the knife slashed through the air, severing her hair. Released from his hold, she crashed face first into the leaves which scraped her face and smelled of decay. He planted one last kick in her side to drive the air out of her, to leave her helpless and gasping. Then he was gone.
Sam burst through the trees above her and tore to her side, sliding down the incline in a fountain of leaves.
“Lily! She’s here, Micah. Over here!”
He seized her, pulling her to him, holding her close in arms that seemed to tremble as wildly as her battered body.
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” he gasped, as if trying to convince himself as much as her. “We’re here. It’s all right. We’re here.”
It was Sam, her Sam. Sam’s scent, Sam’s warmth, Sam’s fingers trying to brush away her tears and soothe her when he shared her terror. Sam engulfed her and she sank into him.
Micah and Reid thundered into the hollow, Reid already barking commands into a small radio. “Seal the exits. No, all of them. He’s in here. Get that perimeter secure.”
Micah stood over the two of them, his expression unreadable. Lily sobbed, reaching for him even as she clung to Sam’s shirt. Micah took her hand in his, the warmth of his touch wrapping around her freezing fingers, and he dropped to his knees, holding her, reaching out to touch her face, stopping when he encountered the tape.
With a swallowed curse, he ripped it off. Lily screamed again, which made Reid spin towards them, even as her reinforcements flooded through the trees.
“Fingerprints!” It sounded like a curse.
Micah held up the offending article like something unclean and it was snatched away into an evidence bag.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, in the gentle voice that was always there for her.
She shook her head, trying to swallow down the sobs of terror and relief that combined to steal her voice.
Sam’s hand trailed through her ravaged hair, but he said nothing, just pulled her against his chest and rested his head against hers. Micah massaged her hands, trying to warm her, studying her face with his bluer-than-blue eyes, searching for something, anything, he could do.
“I thought…” he said at last, then stopped, helpless. His gaze rose to Sam’s and then dropped to hers again. “I thought I’d lost you.”
Lily didn’t say a word, but pulled him to her so the three of them huddled together in the shadows.
Sam paced the lawn of the park while Reid took Lily’s statement. She sat in the passenger seat of the car, shivering in a large grey blanket, nodding at something Reid said. A cop stood beside her, holding an oversized umbrella even though the misty drizzle had stopped now. The D.I. hunkered down in front of her, making notes and studying Lily with her penetrating gaze. Micah stood on the other side of the car, arms folded, scanning the tree line, in pure guardian mode again.
There had been no trace of Lily’s attacker. By the time the alarm was raised, Sam reckoned, he’d already fled the park and vaulted over a wall somewhere. Lily’s description was horribly vague. Big shadowy figure, a glimpse of fever-bright eyes. That was about it. Strong, fast, stealthy, religious nut—all the things they already knew.
Sam ground his teeth together and went back to pacing, trying to spread out his senses wide enough to trace the route the bastard had taken. It was no good. The aftershocks of the murder already committed here were too gruesome. They swamped out the attack.
He’d come close to losing her. Just like Micah had said. For those dreadful moments tearing his way through trees and bushes, he’d been sure he would only find her body. It shouldn’t bother him. But it did. Now he just wanted to throw up or tear someone limb from limb. He wasn’t sure which urge would win out as yet, and he didn’t want to stand still long enough to test any theories.
Reid looked up, catching his eye, and nodded. She was finished. Lily stayed where she was, huddled in on herself, her shorn hair and dirt-splattered face wringing out his heart. One of the medics arrived, replacing the detective. As Sam hastened to Lily’s side, Reid intercepted him. He stared down at her, angry at her interference. She’d brought them out here. It was her fault that Lily had been put at risk. Micah moved around the car like a ghost, standing just behind the suddenly nervous doctor.
“I can’t apologise enough,” said Reid.
Sam glowered at her again. “You can start trying. He might have killed her.”
She shook her head. “That isn’t his MO, Sam. He kidnaps them first and tortures them before he kills them. I won’t lie though, Lily was lucky. I want to tighten the security on her.”
“Reid, your people were all over this park. That didn’t stop him. Micah and I will be there for her from now on, every second if needs be.”
Reid peered over her shoulder again, looking to where Lily and Micah stood, holding each other close. “And you’re sure he’s legit?”
“As legit as I am.” Sam gave a brief laugh at the joke she wouldn’t get. Well, that at least was true. He couldn’t help himself. “Micah’s loved her for years. He’d do anything for her. No way is he a threat. To me perhaps. But not Lily.”
“I’m still going to run his details.”
Sam frowned. “Why tell me?”
Reid pushed her auburn hair back from her face. “My brother was forever turning up with people like you, Sam Mayell. I learned to recognise those who aren’t…well, let’s just say entirely of this world, shall we? I’m not sure what side you’re on, but I do believe you won’t let this psycho get Lily.”
“Psycho? An emotive word from so cool a professional.”
“Technical term,” she joked, though her grin was tight with tension. “I will catch him. And I won’t let him get near another psychic.” There was unexpected vehemence in her voice. He liked that.
“What happened to your brother, Reid?”
Her shoulders stiffened, a defensive posture he knew too well. “He’s in a coma. Ever since someone like this attacked him. It doesn’t look like he’s ever coming out.”
“And what about you? Are you psychic?”
She snorted a laugh. “Not unless it’s contagious. I’m psychic as a brick, Sam. But I know them.” She nodded back towards Lily again. “I know the good they can do. Seen it first hand. And
I’ve also seen their fragility, their needs. She needs to be loved, especially after the shit life she’s led.”
Shit life? Had to be, he supposed, to leave her so closed off and alone. Reid watched his ruminations with altogether too keen an eye for his discomfort.
“You should ask her about her childhood, Sam. About her family. And about why she’s here, living in a rented apartment when she has a mansion in the country to call her own.”
He shifted from foot to foot, trying to drive out the wave of tenderness welling inside him for Lily. It wouldn’t do any good. He had a mission, a job. He only had a couple of days left.
The thought made his blood chill. Instinct told him she was going to die. That was why he had such a truncated time limit. And Micah said the same thing. If both Heaven and Hell believe it, how could things turn out any other way?
“Your psycho isn’t going to leave her be, is he?”
Reid shook her head. “He’s marked her. He tested her as a witch and has convinced himself that she is. The hair thing, I don’t know. Not yet. But it’s the type of humiliation he revels in. He does nothing without reason, however insane his methods might seem to us. Rachel drowned when he subjected her to the trial by water, but Todd survived. He’d done some survival training several years ago. Problem is, a witch hunter expects a witch to escape drowning, so when Todd swam to shore, our killer was waiting for him. Survival meant guilt. So he burned him at the stake.”
Sam shuddered. What would that maniac have done with Lily, had Sam not found them? He remembered the witch trials, the things done to those women and men who fell afoul of the Witchfinder General or similar psychotics over the centuries. He wouldn’t allow that to befall Lily. Simply couldn’t.
But, an insidious little voice in his mind whispered, you’ll take her to Hell where they’ll do much worse things to her, for all eternity.
Edge of Heaven Page 14