After Moonrise

by Gena Showalter P. C. Cast

  “How can this be worked to our favor?”

  “Sweetheart, you just unearthed a very bad man. I’d say we’re on the right track.”

  He was…right, she realized. She twisted, eyeing the man in question. Cliff had crawled out from under the desk, his eyes red and watery. He rushed around the office, trying to gather the paintings. To save them or hide them, she wasn’t sure.

  “Without you,” Levi said, “he would have squeaked by without anyone knowing the part he played.”

  “How do we let the police know?”

  “Detective Bright, the one I have looking for Lana, is almost here.”

  Pounding footsteps sounded.

  “Scratch that. He’s here.”

  Two firemen rushed inside the room.

  “Or not,” Levi said with a sigh.

  The two firemen spotted Cliff, paying no attention to Harper or Levi—and even misting through them to get to Cliff. She felt the heat of their bodies and gasped.

  “Are you all right, sir?” one of them asked.

  “Yes, yes,” Cliff said with a tremor.

  “Anyone else in the building with you?”

  “No, I’m alone. What about the rest of the gallery? Show me.” He spread his arms, blocking the firemen from stepping deeper into the office. “What happened? An earthquake?”

  “No!” Harper screamed, reaching out to stop him.

  Levi stopped her. “It’s okay. Let them go.”

  The firemen once again walked through them, and she once again experienced that strange wave of heat. The pair explained that Cliff’s building was the only one that had been affected by…whatever had happened, and they’d be looking into it.

  “But…but…” she sputtered.

  “My guy will be here,” Levi reminded her. “Let’s wait at the front door and show him what you found. The man who betrayed you will be arrested before the day is over, you have my word.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Levi had lied. Clifford Rigsby wasn’t arrested by the end of the day. He was arrested by the end of the hour.

  Later that day, Harper sat in on her first interrogation, though no one but Levi and the detective asking the questions knew she was there. Her nerves were frayed as she listened to Cliff claim the portraits had been mailed to him anonymously. As if! Topper wasn’t a painter—Levi told her there had been no art supplies in his home—but Cliff was, which was why he’d first opened the gallery.

  If he got away with escorting women to their slaughter…

  The walls of the interrogation room began to shake, and Levi squeezed her hand. She forced her mind to blank. He’d tried to talk her out of coming, but she had insisted and so he had insisted on coming with her in an effort to keep her calm.

  “If they were gifts, why didn’t you turn them in?” Bright asked, casting Harper a dark frown. He was a handsome black man, and he’d stood at the gallery’s entrance, pretending to look the building over as Levi told him what she’d learned before going in to check things out.

  He’d left with Cliff, who’d been cuffed and crying.

  She and Levi hadn’t needed to enter the police car with the men. They’d thought about the station and simply appeared there. The swiftness of the location switch had startled her, but the need to see Cliff behind bars had overwhelmed everything else.

  Now she released Levi to pace as Cliff answered. “I didn’t know they were real,” he said. “I didn’t!”

  Bright arched a brow, looking curious rather than suspicious. “You don’t watch the news?”

  “No.”

  “But you do know the paintings are real now, when we haven’t told you anything of the sort? When we’ve only asked you how they came to be in your possession?”

  She stopped, standing behind Cliff, unsure what she wanted to do. Levi came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  “I know this is hard,” he whispered, “but you have to maintain control of yourself. Otherwise, you’ll have to leave. Bright has to do his job.”

  “All right.” With tears of frustration burning her eyes, she rested her head against him. The mint of his scent enveloped her. His heat comforted her.

  Cliff stuttered for a bit, but managed to collect himself with a few deep breaths. “I heard about Cory Topper on the news. Heard what he’d done to those women. I guessed they were real.”

  “You said you didn’t watch the news.”

  “I misunderstood the question.”

  “So why didn’t you come forward the moment you realized what you had?” the detective asked, as calm as ever.

  More stuttering. “Well, I, uh, well.”

  “Bright’s got him now,” Levi whispered.

  Bright glanced up at them and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head—a gesture for silence.

  Levi lowered his voice and said, “Come on. We’re distracting him. He’s got this. You know that. Let’s go home.”

  So badly she wanted to witness Cliff’s end, but if she stayed, she would eventually speak up. She wouldn’t be able to help herself. She would distract Bright far more than she’d already done and possibly cause him to screw up the interrogation. And if Cliff got away because of her…

  “Okay,” she said on a wispy catch of breath.

  “I want a lawyer,” Cliff growled. “I know my rights. I’m not saying another thing until—”

  He did say another thing, but she didn’t hear it. One moment she was in the mirrored room with him, the next she was standing in her living room—just because she wanted to be there. It was as easy as that. There was no dizziness, no recovery period.

  “That’s a nice little perk,” she said, pretending she wasn’t freaked out.

  Levi, who was still behind her, placed his hands on her shoulders and spun her around. There was a grave cast to his face, a seriousness, a somberness she’d never seen before. Made sense, though. He’d just learned that he was dead, but she hadn’t been there for him. Had focused only on herself. Guilt filled her.

  “I know you’re upset,” he said.

  She cupped his cheeks, scraped her thumb against his stubble. “I’m not the only one.”

  “What happened to us was terrible.”

  “Yes.”

  “But we’re here, and we’re together.”

  Together. Yes. “Kiss me, Levi.”

  He swooped in, pressed his lips to hers and thrust his tongue into her mouth.

  They kissed for minutes, hours, days even, tasting each other, relearning each other, comforting each other. They were here, and while the rest of the world might consider them dead, they were alive to each other. That was enough.

  As passion flowed through her veins, consumed her, it was difficult for her to believe that her life had ended, that she was no more. She was on fire, aching for Levi’s total possession. How much more real could a woman get?

  He tugged at her shirt. She tugged at his. He removed her pants, and she removed his. Underwear was the next thing to go. And when they were both naked, he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.

  Looking down at her, he grinned. “If this is the end to a crappy day, I’m all for crappy days.” With that, he tossed her on the bed.

  She bounced once, twice, and on the second descent, he was there, pressing her down into the mattress, pinning her with his muscled weight. The heat of him had intensified, delighting her in every way. His skin was a study of masculinity, rough in some places, smooth in others, with patches of dark hair on his chest and legs.

  “You feel so good,” he praised. “I don’t think I ever want to let you go.”

  “Then don’t.” Just then he was her anchor. And she so desperately needed that anchor. She was afraid of floating away and never returning, of losing him, and losing herself.

  “Grab the headboard.”

  “Why?”

  “Because King Levi said so.”

  Unable to stop her own grin, she obeyed. The moment her fingers curled around the
iron railing, he bent his head and laved her body from top to bottom. He bit, he sucked, he licked, ratcheting up her already inflamed desire. His tongue was like a stroke of fiery silk, tantalizing her, making her gasp and pant and beg for more…then plead with him to stop and finish her.

  “Levi! If you want me to start beating you, keep doing what you’re doing.”

  A warm chuckle, his breath tickling over her in the most decadent caress.

  “I’m serious.” She released the iron and waved a fist at him.

  He playfully nipped at her fingers. “Back on the railing, princess.”

  So commanding. So wonderfully carnal with her. “Fine.” She tried for reluctant, but merely came across as snippy. “But you had better do everything in your power to make this princess happy or you’ll lose your head.”

  He gave another of those sexy chuckles. “You can’t behead a king. Now do as you’ve been told before things get ugly and I have to summon my guard. He may look exactly like me, but he isn’t as nice as I am.”

  Moaning, she obeyed him. The moment she did so, he returned to his play. Only, his hands were rougher, his mouth more insistent. He worked her over, worked her just right, so that she was arching into him, following his every move, desperate, so desperate for completion.

  “Levi!” she shouted. “Enough! You have to… If you don’t…”

  “I’m a king, remember?” The strain in his voice delighted her. He’d break soon. He wouldn’t be able to help himself. “I do what I want, when I want.”

  “Well, I do damage to—”

  “He’s coming for you,” a familiar voice said from beside the bed. “Oh, uh, never mind.”

  “What the—” Harper hurried to cover herself. Levi jumped up, clearly intending to murder the black-haired girl who’d been haunting them all over again, but she vanished just before he reached her.

  He stood there for a moment, silent and naked, and clearly floundering about what to do. “I want to chase her, but I don’t want to leave you.”

  An unexpected laugh bubbled from Harper’s throat. Levi spun around and glared at her.

  “You think this is funny?” he demanded.

  Unable to speak through her giggles, she nodded. And, oh, the amusement felt as good as his touch. As dark as the day had been, she hadn’t expected to find excitement, arousal, fulfillment, acceptance, comfort or humor—much less all of those things at the same time.

  With a mock scowl, he stalked back to the bed. “Well, I’ll make you sorry for that. If I can’t tackle her, I’ll have to make do with you.”

  She laughed all the harder. He pounced.

  The air whooshed from her lungs. Without any more preliminaries, he claimed his woman. Her laughter was cut off, becoming a low groan of pleasure. She wrapped her legs around him, wrapped one arm around his waist and one around his neck, all while arching her hips to meet his next thrust.

  His lips returned to hers, and, oh, this kiss was so much better than any that had come before. The passion was rawer, the need sharper. His hands were everywhere, all over her, no place left untouched.

  “Harper,” he growled. “Yeah, just like that.”

  They strained together and breathed together and panted together, and his pace increased, faster and faster and faster, until the entire bed was shaking, until she was groaning as the pleasure split her in two and he was roaring with satisfaction.

  He collapsed on her and rolled to the side, dragging her with him. She found herself sprawled across his chest as he fought to breathe.

  “That was…that was…”

  “Worth dying for?” she said, then wished she could snatch the words back. “Sorry. Too soon for that kind of—”

  “Yeah,” he said, sounding confident. “Worth dying for.”

  Darling man. As replete as she was, sleep tugged at her. She resisted with all her might, suddenly afraid that sleeping would be the thing that pulled her out of this world—out of Levi’s arms.

  It didn’t before, she reminded herself and relaxed. “So what’s next?” she asked through a yawn.

  “Tomorrow we’ll return to the station and find out what else Bright learned from Cliff.”

  “And then visit Topper,” she said, a statement, not a question.

  Levi sighed. “I knew you’d want to do that.”

  “Yeah, because I told you so. I need to know why I painted Lana’s hair… I…” A bright flash in her mind, a memory tearing free of the darkness. Suddenly she was lying on that metal slab, cold, so very cold. She could hear a woman crying a few feet away, could hear metal rattling.

  The cage. The woman trapped in the cage. A woman who was next in line for the table…which meant Harper had to die. Room had to be made; a new toy had to be played with.

  “Well…I know you can’t see her, but the girl in the cage is—drumroll, please—your only real friend. You remember her, don’t you? Of course you do. She’s the pretty one.”

  Harper had tried to look, but she had failed. “You’re lying, trying to hurt me because you’re a miserable little runt whose heart has rotted and you can’t find any other way to get to me.”

  “You think so? Well, why don’t you ask the girl and find out whether or not I spoke true.”

  “Say something,” she had commanded the girl.

  Such terrible silence had filled the room.

  Ultimately a chuckle had broken through that silence, and it had far more terrible. “My deepest apologies, but she’ll not be saying anything. She’s mouthy, your friend. You know she is. I’m afraid I was forced to cut out her tongue.”

  Hearing that, Harper’s fury had gotten the better of her. She’d thrown taunts at Topper, and he’d retaliated with taunts of his own—followed by a brutal stabbing that had finally stolen her life.

  The pain…oh, the pain… She’d endured so much, those last few minutes should have been more of the same. But she had felt the sting all the way to her spine, had felt her blood leaving her, pooling around her. Had noticed her eyesight dimming. Any second now and she would—

  “Aurora Harper!” Levi shouted. “You pay attention to me right now.”

  Using his voice as a lifeline, she tugged herself back to the present. She blinked into focus, saw him looming over her, knew she was on the bed and swallowed bile. “He threatened Lana,” she croaked. “He said she was next.”

  Levi brushed his fingers over her brow. “She wasn’t in the cage, sweetheart. I promise you.”

  “But what if Cliff wasn’t the only person helping him? What if Lana is still a target? She’s in danger, Levi. I feel it. Deep down, I know it.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Against Levi’s better judgment, he decided to phone Bright later that evening and set up a meeting with Topper before he’d had a chance to check things out. What he quickly learned? All the times he’d thought he called the man he’d actually popped in and out of Bright’s office (and home). His mind had simply reworked the details.

  This time, Bright had been home, alone, in bed. The man had nearly had a heart attack when Levi shook him awake.

  With a few conditions tacked on, Bright had done him a solid and arranged for Topper to be brought into the station early the next morning for questioning about Clifford. At least, that was the official statement. Levi and Harper were testing Topper to discover whether or not he could see the dead. If he could…the real interrogation would begin.

  Levi and Harper didn’t get much sleep. They arrived at the station hours early, and waited in the interview room. Within thirty minutes of their arrival, Peterson and Harrowitz entered the room behind the two-way window. He couldn’t see them, but he could feel Harrowitz, some kind of energy pulsing off him. If either Levi or Harper became upset, they were to leave the room. If they failed to leave, Harrowitz was to vaporize them before they could harm anyone in the building.

  Levi was not happy about the threat to Harper, and was determined to keep her calm no matter the course of action he had to take.
Already she was shaking, pacing and mumbling about everything that could go wrong. He reached out, latched on to the base of her neck and tugged her into his side.

  “Don’t talk like that. Why invite trouble? Why worry when everything could go right?”

  “I don’t like the word could.”

  “Because you’re looking at it through negative glasses. Try positive.”

  A pause, a sigh. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” she said, and up went her finger to her mouth. “I know better.”

  He breathed in the cinnamon of her scent. All night he’d held her in his arms. They’d talked, shared things about their pasts. He’d told her about waking up one day to discover his parents were gone forever and he had no place to live, the nightmare of some of his foster families and how the military had given him a purpose, a goal for the future.

  She’d told him about the formal gowns her mother made her wear to dinner to practice for her pageants, even when her friends were over, as if every evening at their house was a high-society party. She’d told him about the many classes in deportment she’d had to take, the singing lessons and the bird training—because yes, her mother had wanted her to sing Disney songs while a bird perched on her finger—and about how Lana had taught her how to laugh and stand up for herself.

  He’d promised to send Lana a thank-you card. He’d also promised to protect the girl with his (after)life. And he would. Somehow, someway, he was going to end Cory Topper’s reign of terror once and for all.

  “So…everyone’s pretty locked on the no-killing-him idea?” she asked.

  How wistful she sounded. He almost laughed. When a delicate-looking female talked about the destruction of evil, it was odd—and maybe kind of wonderful. “Yeah. Pretty locked. Otherwise, I’d be all over him the moment he stepped through the door.”

  “Darn.”

  See? She couldn’t even cuss properly. “If I have to behave, you have to behave.”

  “Deal. I guess.”

  The door opened and a chained Topper finally shuffled inside, his orange jumpsuit so bright it was almost blinding. Tensing, Levi looked him over. The chains stretched from between his wrists, which were in front of him, to his ankles, which were only allowed a few inches of movement at a time.