Heart racing, Sierra sprinted out the door and into her car. The murderer. Jillian and Gavin must not have caught him earlier, and now he was about to strike again.
He was targeting people at the university. Sierra had been so stupid; not once had she considered Maxim being in danger. Driving, she dialed Jillian. It rang and rang until it went to voice mail. Gavin’s phone went immediately to voice mail. Sierra cursed. What should she do? She couldn’t just leave Maxim alone to fend for himself.
The deluge from earlier turned into a storm, and lightening thundered down. As Maxim’s house came into view, she tried calling Gavin and Jillian again. Still nothing. She pocketed her cell and got out of her Chevy.
Every nerve in her body clenched. The lights in Maxim’s house were on. The main door stood ajar. If he had fled and the killer had chased him down, there was nothing she could do. But what if Maxim had escaped? What if he was injured, bleeding out somewhere?
The rain drenched her clothes as she tried to decide on her course of action. Going inside could be dangerous, yet she could never live with the decision to let Maxim die.
She took a few steps, then paused in front of the door. No noises came from the inside. Deciding she needed a weapon, she picked up a medium-sized rock lying on the grass. Not ideal, but it would have to do. Her other hand grasped her keys. The sharp edge could scratch out the eyes of the murderer. She stepped over the threshold, her gaze darting from side to side. The living room was in pristine condition. No fight had taken place in here.
Afraid Maxim was injured and running out of time, Sierra abandoned her caution and called out, “Maxim! Maxim, where are you?”
The wind slammed the door shut behind her. All lights went out.
Chapter 31
Sierra tried not to panic at the sudden darkness and her confinement. She swallowed hard before calling out again, her voice quavering now. “Maxim! Maxim?”
No answer. She crept through the space, deeper into the belly of the living room. Her wet sneakers slipped on the floor, not enough to unbalance her, yet plenty to increase her pulse, her heart nearly vaulting out of her rib cage. She crouched down and swiped a finger across the ground. The liquid had a coppery smell. Her supernatural vision identified the color as red in the dark. Blood. Her gut contracted, a wave of nausea hitting her. She followed the trail, one thought pounding through her head. Please don’t let Maxim be dead. She couldn’t be too late. He couldn’t become the next victim.
The blood led her to a downward staircase. The cellar. Sierra didn’t want to go down there. If the killer were still in the house, going down the cellar was akin to serving herself on a platter. But what choice did she have? She couldn’t just leave Maxim.
Her fingers grasped for the light switch on the wall. It didn’t work. Her trepidation increased. She swallowed hard and then descended slowly, clutching the handrail. With each step she took, the alarm bells in her head intensified. She fought them, reminding herself to stay calm. Panic was her enemy. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Ignore the creaking of the wood underneath your feet. Maxim could be dying. You need to help him.
At the bottom of the stairs, a stone corridor led to a heavy door. She treaded toward it, fighting the urge to call out again; first she needed to ascertain the killer was gone. The door handle was cold and rough below her skin. She shoved it down and entered. Behind her, the metal flew shut with a thud, cutting off her escape.
Noises that sounded like clapping assaulted her, and then the lights went on, the sudden brightness blinding her.
“Bravo! I didn’t even have to drag you down. You came all on your own. Congratulations, you did a superb job in playing your part!”
Sierra stared at Maxim. His mouth was split into a manic grin, his cognac eyes a sickish yellow. Had he been drugged by the murderer or tortured into insanity? “Maxim, are you all right? Did he hurt you?” She studied his face, his arms. No scratches, no blood. Then whose blood had been spilled in the living room? “Are you okay?”
“I’m fabulous,” Maxim replied, and that’s when she noticed the gray aura around him with specks of purple. No, that was impossible. Maxim didn’t possess an aura. He was human. And yet here he was sporting an Umbra Charmer aura.
“Release,” Maxim commanded. Against her will, her fists opened and the stone and keys fell out of her hands. “Kneel.” Her knees buckled, the impact of bone hitting stone reverberating through her spine. “Ah, to finally have you grovel and pay penance for your mistakes.” Maxim’s voice dripped with triumph.
He was doing this to her. Sierra felt sick; she couldn’t deny it any longer. His aura. Somehow Maxim had become an Umbra, a Charmer, and now he was bending her mind, controlling her body. He was a puppet master, tugging her strings.
Her head throbbed and goose bumps broke out all over her skin. She had gone right into his trap. “What do you want from me?” she asked, a part of her still hoping this was all a big misunderstanding.
“That’s the question you should’ve asked from the start. Maybe if you had, you would find yourself in a better position now. You disappointed me. I gave you so many openings. I was patient. You had plenty of opportunities, and yet you didn’t confess. Now I will take the truth by force. Tell me, Sierra. How does a girl who is neither smart nor pretty nor anything really, attract the attention of the whole Ardere community? What are you?”
Sierra swallowed hard. His response simultaneously terrified and calmed her. Maxim didn’t know she was Fluidus. Meaning she was in no danger of him handing her over to Halbert or the Culpatus. Still, he sensed she was different. What would he do once he realized she was Fluidus? Nothing good. She couldn’t wait around to find out. She had to act fast.
“Is that why you dated me?” She tried to wiggle her fingers and found she couldn’t. How would she escape if she couldn’t do even that? Why hadn’t she learned more about Charmers and their powers?
Maxim tilted his head. “Oh look, she does have an ounce of a brain. You didn’t really think I was dating you because of this—” He motioned with his hand up and down the length of her kneeling body. “—or for your nonexistent charisma and smarts.” With his hands clasped behind his back, he began to slowly walk around her. When he was behind her, he extracted her cell phone from her back jeans pocket. Sierra gnashed her teeth as he unlocked her screen with ease, wishing she had been more careful with her pin code. “Failed calls to Gavin and two to Jillian. Good to know.” He threw her phone on the ground and stomped on it. “Just a precaution, you understand, right?” He chuckled wickedly and Sierra winced. She was helpless and he had just cut off her means of communication.
Maxim grew solemn again. “I knew from the start something was different about you, and then the Ardere confirmed it. They were practically falling over themselves, catering to your whims.”
“You used me.” She channeled her rancor and fear into determination. Maxim’s powers must have limits. She needed to prepare for when his invisible bonds on her disbanded. Her gaze searched the room for weapons. Everywhere she looked stood boxes. The one in the far corner held used syringes. They dripped with blood.
Whatever Maxim had planned for her, it didn’t seem to be his first time. The blood reminded her of what Jillian had said. Some of Finn’s blood was missing.
Could the two be connected? No, please don’t let it be. Pain split Sierra’s skull as understanding sank in. “You’re the murderer. You’re the one who killed those innocent people.”
“Oh, Sierra, hush. Don’t be so dramatic. Innocent? Hardly. And killed? The earth is a better place without them on it. They were just wasting air, water, and space.”
Her frozen limbs turned leaden at the extent of his savagery and madness. How much longer could he compel her to stay in place? Was the action draining him? She needed to fight him, needed to escape before he decided to kill her.
“Then again, you yourself are wasteful.” Maxim stepped toward her. Sierra had to tilt her head back to maintain eye co
ntact. Him being this close made sweat rivulets run down her nape and back. Her already wet clothes clung tighter to her skin. “I watched you closely. You have powers. You have the whole Ardere community huddling around you, and what do you do with your gift? Nothing! You go shopping, serve drinks, and go on dates.” He crouched down and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her hard. “You have no respect for the gifts you were given. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to watch someone as undeserving as you have these powers, when it was all I ever wanted my whole life?” He let go of her abruptly, and she almost toppled backward. “No, of course not, because to do so, you would actually need a brain.”
His diatribe made Sierra’s eyes fill with tears of anger. She pushed down the rising fury and tried to find a way out of this. First, she needed to buy time. “How did you manage to become an Umbra?”
Maxim threw his head back laughing, a jarring sound. She took the opportunity to once again scout the room for weapons. He must’ve noticed her wandering gaze, because in the next instant, her face was in his palms, his nails digging into her flesh.
“Don’t even think about it. There’s no way out. You’re mine now, to do with as I see fit.” He tightened his grip on her chin, almost breaking her skin. “How dare you question me being a supernatural? I was meant for greatness. This is my birthright. If not for my stupid father, I would’ve been a supernatural my whole life.” He bit out the last two words. “Don’t fucking underestimate me!” He shook her head, and she feared the tendons in her neck would snap. “I’m the one in control here. Me! Not you.”
“Jillian and Gavin are searching for you. You won’t get away with this.”
“Really? They’ve been searching for a month now with no results.” Her breath hitched, and his features turned smug at her clear distress. “I’m the last person Gavin and Jillian would suspect. Maxim, the harmless human with his head always stuck in a book. They can’t even imagine me becoming physical.” Maxim chuckled. “You know the best part is, Gavin has bought the whole good guy act so much, he actually hates me for it. He finds me annoying. Overly polite, overly friendly. And that is why he’ll never solve the case.” Maxim’s hands mashed Sierra’s temples. He leaned in, inches from her mouth, he hissed, “No one knows where you are. No one will find you. You’re mine.”
“What do you want with me?” Sierra refused to recoil, refused to allow him to terrify her any further.
“Tell me why Gavin and the others think you’re so damn valuable, and don’t you dare lie to me. I know all your tricks.” Maxim tapped his palm rhythmically against her cheek. “I know you’re a dirty slut. Dating me while ogling Gavin the whole time. Kissing him, after spending last night with me.”
Sierra shuddered, clamping her incisor together to stop her teeth from clattering. This was bad, real bad. Maxim could snap at any moment.
Not taking her silence well, he grabbed her drenched hair and yanked. “Tell me!” Her scalp burned, and her neck cramped. She had to distract him. Once again, her gaze fell on the syringes filled with blood. The female victims had been strangled, while Finn had been stabbed. No one had been injected, which meant Maxim had used the syringes on himself. “What have you done? What are you juiced up on?”
“Pretty amazing, right? My birthright was taken, and yet I found a way. I transformed myself into a supernatural.” Maxim rose and paraded around the room, as if he was preparing to address a whole audience. “It was hard at first, and there were sacrifices along the way, but I persisted through them all and was rewarded.”
“Finn’s blood.” That’s where it had disappeared to.
Maxim reached into one of the boxes and pulled out a red wine bottle. From another box, he produced a new syringe. He caressed it reverently, filled it with the contents of the bottle, with blood, and then he injected himself. Sierra shrieked.
Maxim’s aura turned more vivid, and his eyes morphed into yellow slits. “Mother was so sad when it became clear I could only sense supernaturals, but didn’t have powers. But Mother was a fighter. We practiced with her blood first, you know, to ensure we had the right formula to preserve it, and then we chose Finn. He should’ve been honored. Instead, that bastard fought. He took my mother away from me. He took everything from me.” Maxim’s lips curled up, his teeth reminiscent of a shark. “Finn’s blood was useless. Mother had good intentions. She always wanted the best for me, but Finn wasn’t a match. My poor mother’s death was for nothing.”
Maxim wiped at his eyes, whether he was tearing up or just pretending, Sierra couldn’t tell. “I’m a fighter like my mother. I reacted quickly to the new challenge. I preserved her blood.” Maxim put his arms around the box with the wine bottles. “My mother, she’s here. She’ll always be with me.”
“You’re sick,” Sierra choked out. In an instant, Maxim was next to her. The back of his hand smacked her face. Pain ricocheted through her, and a metallic taste filled her mouth.
“How dare you? I’m not sick. I’m evolved. But this little conversation is getting tiresome. You don’t want to tell me what you are? Fine. Time for plan B.”
Something cold and hard connected with the back of her head. “Night, night,” were the last words she heard before everything melted into blackness.
Chapter 32
Gavin removed two bottled waters from Jillian’s fridge. He craved something stronger, something that would allow him to forget his failure to catch the killer. Something that would allow him to forget the kiss with Sierra. What was wrong with him? He couldn’t afford distraction. He needed to fully focus on the case. Yet, his mind buzzed with Sierra, with the feel of her, with the disappointment in her eyes as he apologized. He slammed his palm against the fridge. Why did he always have to screw everything up?
For years, no one had penetrated the meticulously crafted wall surrounding him. Then she showed up and broke through it within weeks. Why? Why her?
Trying to distract himself, he reached for his phone, only to realize he didn’t have it on him. He must’ve left it in the car.
“Gavin, come here!” Jillian called from the living room.
“What is it?” He joined her on the couch and studied her laptop screen.
“It all makes sense now. Peter’s father, he was human. That’s why we couldn’t find him in the database. That’s why I didn’t see Peter’s aura. He’s half human.”
“How?” Gavin had never heard of something like this before. An offspring of a supernatural and human could either have dormant or active supernatural genes. If they were active, Peter would be an Umbra like his mother. If they were dormant, he would be human. “What if Kirsten Davenport’s death was more brutal…because Peter somehow overheard her making the mongrel comment? What if Kirsten had uttered it to one of her friends in a conversation?”
Jillian nodded slowly. “The killer was never using an aura obliteration potion. I was able to sense the first murder better because it was Joanna who killed Finn. She stabbed him. Peter choked his victim’s.” Jillian’s words were coming out faster and faster.
“Hold on. What motive would Joanna have to kill Finn?”
Jillian sat up straighter, her shoulders drawn back. “The blood. Finn doesn’t fit the mold of the other victims. He was close with his family. He was killed for his blood. Joanna must’ve told Peter how great it was being a supernatural. He adored her, wanted to be just like her. His genes were dormant. He must’ve hoped Finn’s blood would make him a supernatural.”
“That’s ridiculous. How would that even work? Finn’s blood would disintegrate.”
“Not if Peter found a way to preserve it. He could’ve then drank it or injected himself with it.” Shadows flitted across Jillian’s face.
Gavin clenched his fists. Never had a case been recorded of a halfling trying to activate his supernatural genes. “How could an Ardere’s blood activate Peter’s Umbra genes?”
Jillian rose. “It can’t. The Umbra genes would’ve rejected the Ardere genes. Finn’s blood couldn’t
be a match. But Joanna’s, that’s a different story.” Jillian slapped her forehead. “Peter must’ve used Finn’s blood the first time when he attacked Whitney. He didn’t tell her to kneel on a whim. It was his way to test whether he had turned supernatural, if he had acquired the ability to manipulate the minds of humans. When he realized the symbiosis wasn’t working, he decided that she knew too much and he had to kill her. Next time, Peter used his mother’s blood and he was able to activate his dormant genes. That’s why Amelia showed signs of having hurt herself; Peter commanded her to. He probably upped the blood dosage before he went after Kirsten. His mental hold on her was so great he made her brutalize herself, overpowering her natural survival instinct.”
Gavin rubbed his chin, processing everything. “Fine. Let’s assume this is correct. But why test his powers in such an extreme manner?”
“I think he was unstable a long time before he started killing. He had an unhealthy relationship with his mother, and he wanted the impossible. Peter wanted to be a supernatural when he was a human. His mother’s death must’ve pushed him over the edge. Right into insanity.”
Gavin had an ominous feeling in his gut. “You still had trouble sensing him with Kirsten, meaning the symbiosis wasn’t complete. Do you think he could turn completely Umbra?”
Jillian paled. “It would require a lot of expertise, but yes, I think it’s doable. And if he succeeds, he’ll be as powerful as Joanna, at least temporarily. The injected or drunken blood is like a drug. It’ll hit his bloodstream and then slowly wear off.”
“It will also make him even more volatile.” Gavin gritted his teeth. Joanna’s aptitude level equaled his. He had never fought a Charmer as strong as her before. Sure, he had practiced with strong Charmers, but they were his friends, not enemies. As for the Umbra, he had fought, they had goals, they were afraid to die. A madman had no concept of his own mortality and would do anything.
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