The Lady in Pink - Deadly Ever After 2

by J. A. Kazimer

  Clark grabbed the gun from Doreen and took aim at my chest. “I didn’t want it to come to this. But I have no choice.” His finger tightened on the trigger. “Now, tell me, how much does Isabella know?”

  “So you can decide whether or not to kill her?” I shook my head. “Well, forget it. She has no idea about you.” Which I suspected was less than true. I thought back to the night at Izzy’s brownstone, listening in on her and Clark’s “date.” At the time I’d thought she was merely interested in Clark, but now I wondered if there wasn’t more to it. She’d asked him question after question about his childhood. About the Boyer clan.

  Had Izzy suspected I was a Boyer all along? Was that why she’d hired Clark in the first place? As the pieces slid into place, my anger ignited, sending a jolt of electricity through me. How dare she lie to me. Again.

  “You better not be lying,” he said, waving the gun in my direction. “I’d hate to have to hurt one feather on Isabella.”

  The rage burning inside me at Izzy’s betrayal shifted to another target. One with similar DNA. “Don’t even think about touching her,” I warned.

  “Kind of hard not to touch the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.” He paused, finger tensing on the trigger. “So sorry you won’t be around for the wedding ... or the wedding night.”

  CHAPTER 60

  “Izzy will never marry you,” I yelled as Clark started to squeeze the trigger. His finger stilled, much to my delight. Not that I had a follow-up to my statement. Hell, for all I knew, she would be the next Mrs. Boyer. The very thought sent another bolt of electricity through me.

  “Shoot him already,” Doreen said. “He’s stalling.”

  “Am not,” I lied, trying to think of a way to do just that. Keeping Clark talking seemed like my best bet, so I went with it. “I’m just curious as to how Clark put this all together. Murdering me before I could learn the truth behind my birth in order to keep the Boyer money all to himself wasn’t a bad plan at all.”

  “You think this is about the money?” He laughed and lowered the gun.

  “It’s not?” Then why had he tried to kill me? Hell, we didn’t know each other that well. Usually it took a few weeks before someone wanted me dead. Okay, a few days. But those were strictly business days.

  He shook his head. “Do you know what it’s like to live in the shadow of someone else?”

  From the way he was looking at me, I guessed he wanted my sympathy. Sort of hard to feel with a gun aimed at your nuts, but I gave it a valiant effort. An effort that fell short when I let out a small scoff. The gun in Clark’s hand rose back to my chest. I swallowed another snort of disdain, motioning for him to continue. “Go on with your whining,” I said, unable to stop myself.

  The gun steadied in his hand.

  I closed my eyes, blowing out a harsh breath. “Please.”

  My plea had the desired effect, for the gun lowered a few inches. “All my life I’d heard stories about my long-lost cousin. The blue-haired boy who would be king.” His gaze rolled over me, burning with hate. “Until a few months ago I thought you were dead like your mother and father. Then I saw a newspaper article on this up-and-coming PI blessed with the very power I’d spent my life longing for. And I knew—”

  “Blessed?” I let out a bark of bitter laughter. “You’re kidding, right? This”—I rubbed my fingers together, generating sparks—“is not a blessing. It’s a curse.”

  He shook his head sadly. “Only a few Boyer men have had the power. No one knows when or why they get it. But when they do get it, all too often they squander it like you have. Keeping it under lock and key rather than taking their rightful place among the gods.” He paused to lick his lips. I could see the excitement building in his gaze as he talked about my curse like it was some sort of gift. Hell, if I could, I would have traded places with him. The Boyer curse had destroyed so many lives. But to Clark the price exceeded the cost.

  “Your father failed to live up to his potential too, and it also cost him his life,” he said, when I didn’t comment on his god complex.

  “Like father, like son. Is that it?” I took a step toward Clark, daring him to fire. “I squandered my power, as you call it, so I should die like my father before me?”

  His lips twisted with humor. “More than you know, for both of us.”

  I tilted my head to the side. “Are you saying my father was murdered by yours?” How was that possible? From all accounts, my father had hanged himself in his prison cell, unable to live with the horrific murder of his beloved wife at his electrified hands.

  Clark shrugged. “Not in the physical sense, though my father, God rest his soul, would’ve liked nothing more. But your dear old daddy took the chance away when he wrapped his bed sheet around his throat, dying alone in his cell five years to the day after your mother died.”

  I pictured a similar fate. Not death by my own hands, but dying alone, lying in a pool of blood as my final breath leaked out of my lungs. I didn’t want to die. And I sure as hell didn’t want to die today, at the hands of my own kin.

  “My father hated his brother for never understanding the true power he possessed.” The gun wavered in Clark’s hand as he continued his tale. “Like you, he considered the power a curse, especially after your mother’s death.” His eyes took on a faraway glow. “If it helps, it was an accident. Your mother’s death, I mean. He never meant to kill her.”

  I bit my lip, drawing blood.

  Clark waved a hand toward the fireplace, the same place I’d stood moments before Doreen had tried to bash my head in. “She died right there. No one even heard her cries. The maid found her the next morning, but you and your father were already gone. No one knew what happened to you. They captured your father a few hours later, but you weren’t with him. We believed you were dead, killed by your father’s hands, until a few months ago, when I saw the article about you after you solved the missing-jeweled-mittens case. I guess your father left you on the steps of the orphanage before his capture.”

  I frowned. If what Clark said was true, why had my father bothered to leave me anywhere? Traveling with a screaming infant was hard enough. Why add the complication of a kid after you’d just murdered your wife and a hundred cops were on your tail? Unless he’d feared what would happen if he didn’t take me with him.

  Clark let out a loud sigh. “If only you would have forgotten about your past, none of this would be necessary. But from the moment I first met you, I knew you would never let it go. Which left me with one choice.”

  “Kill me outright before dear old granddad found out the truth?” I shook my head. “But not before you tied up one last loose end.” A cold smile grew on Clark’s face and I knew I’d guessed right. He hadn’t saved me from Doreen’s bullet last night due to some misplaced sense of family loyalty. Instead, he’d stopped her from killing me in order to find out how much Izzy knew. Clark wasn’t as dumb as I’d first thought. He knew killing me would bring down my partner’s wrath.

  “Isabella can live or die.” He paused, eyes intent on mine. An electrical current beyond any I’d ever felt grew inside me. Burning hotter and deeper until I thought I would explode. But Clark wasn’t finished. “The choice is yours.”

  CHAPTER 61

  “Not quite,” Izzy’s voice called from the doorway of the library. All three of us spun to face her and the nine-millimeter in her hand. “Drop the weapon,” she said to Clark, who did as she ordered, laying his gun on the floor at his feet.

  He held up his hands. “Now, Isabella, this isn’t what it looks like.”

  “Really?” she said tilting her head to one side. “It looks like you and Doreen cooked up a plot to kill Blue before he found out he was the true Boyer heir.”

  The words “like father, like son” flitted through my mind again. And suddenly all the pieces fell into place. Hiding my being the Boyer heir was only part of his reason for murdering me. I swallowed back a flash of electrical rage. “That’s not the only reason
Clark wants me dead.”

  “Oh?” Izzy asked, the gun steady in her slender hands.

  I took a menacing step toward Clark, blue sparks raining from my fingers like wildfire. He shrank back. “Want to fill Izzy in?” I growled. “Tell her how badly you wanted to cover up a murder from thirty years ago?”

  “I did it for us,” he said. “All of us. The Boyer name is all we have.”

  “Bullshit,” I said, our bodies only a foot apart. One touch and his murderous ass would be toast. Literally. “You did it for you. You hired James to kill me; then you burned up my office and had Doreen torch Izzy’s brownstone, not to mention murdering an elderly nurse to keep everyone from finding out that it was your father who murdered my mother. Not mine. And then he framed his own brother for the gruesome act.”

  Clark had the grace to blush. Not a great look on any man, but even less appealing on a pale one with black shoe polish in his hair. Another zap of current flickered through me. The bottoms of my boots started to smoke. I took a step toward him, the desire to choke the life out of him nearly overwhelming. But I resisted. Killing Clark wouldn’t bring my parents back. Besides, for better or worse—and I firmly suspected more of the latter—Clark was one of my few living relatives.

  “My father knew the truth, knew that it was his own brother who’d killed my mother,” I said. “That’s why he hid me away. He knew that if he didn’t, one day I’d meet with an unfortunate incident too. Just like my mother. He didn’t hang himself, dying alone in a cell because of guilt at taking the life of the one woman he ever loved. He did it because he couldn’t stand living without her.”

  Izzy’s gaze flew to my face.

  But it was too late for me. For us. The burning inside me grew too great. She waved Doreen and Clark to the right, away from me. “Blue,” she called. “Are you all right?”

  “I’ve had better days,” I choked out as the current rocketed through me in waves of fire. I was losing control. My body shook as the buzz of electricity reached epic proportions. “Get the hell out of here. Now,” I warned as blue light exploded from my fingers. For a moment, my entire body went numb. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t hear. Everything was frozen.

  Then the blue light dissipated, leaving the scene unfolding in front of me.

  A sight I’d feared for the last year.

  Izzy was lying on the ground, as still as death.

  Her eyes were fixed and dilated.

  CHAPTER 62

  I dropped down next to Izzy, careful not to touch her for fear I’d cause her more injury, the rest of the world around us forgotten. Nothing mattered except for the woman on the floor. “Come on,” I said, voice thick. “You can’t die on me.”

  Sirens screamed in the distance.

  But they were too late.

  Izzy was gone.

  I’d destroyed her.

  A tear leaked from the corner of my eye. It rolled down my cheek and onto Izzy’s soft skin. I lifted my finger, brushing it away.

  By some miracle, at my touch, her chest jumped and she let out a loud gasp. “Izzy,” I said, pulling her into my arms. “You’re alive.”

  She pushed at my chest with her hands. “Not for long if you keep smothering me.”

  “Oh.” I let her go. She stayed sitting up, wavering only a little. “Are you all right?” I asked.

  “I’ve had better days,” she repeated my words back at me. Then she glanced around the now empty room. “You let them get away?”

  My eyes followed hers. I shrugged. “I had a more pressing matter to attend to.”

  “Damn it, Blue,” she began.

  I cut her off. “I’m so sorry, Izzy. I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “Stop it,” she said. “None of this was your fault. I should’ve—”

  Two paramedics and a handful of cops entered the room, putting an end to our conversation. I watched as they checked Izzy’s vitals, jabbed a needle into her arm, and loaded her on a gurney. Much to her dismay. But I wouldn’t let her argue. She’d nearly died today. A trip to the hospital to get checked out seemed like the next logical step. Or so I told her when she tried to leap off the gurney. Thankfully the paramedics were prepared, shooting a few milligrams of sedative into her IV. As her eyes grew hazy, she reached for my arm, but I pulled away in time. “Blue,” she whispered.

  I leaned down to hear her. “I’m right here.”

  “You better be,” she said. Her head lolled to the side, and she closed her eyes.

  Detective Locks arrived a few minutes later as Izzy was wheeled past. I started to follow them out the door, but Locks stopped me. “Care to tell me what happened here?” she asked.

  I shook my head.

  “Funny thing,” she said. “I found Clark Boyer outside, unconscious, along with an unknown woman. Both had been tased.”

  “Is that so?” Had my power surge knocked him out as he and Doreen attempted to escape? I smiled at the thought. It served him right. I vowed to have a nice chat with my cousin real soon, and it would end with more than a little jolt of electricity. But now wasn’t the time. Clark and Doreen would pay for their sins. By the time I was done with him, Clark would understand the difference between a gift and a curse.

  I’d make sure of it.

  CHAPTER 63

  A month after the debacle at the Boyer mansion I settled back against the silken sheets of the Hushed Little Baby Hotel in the heart of Wonderland. I’d spent the last week at the hotel, weighing my options. None of which sounded good at the moment. I wasn’t ready to go back to work as a PI just yet, nor was I interested in anything to do with the name Boyer, even though the Boyer family lawyers wouldn’t leave me alone.

  The last month of court hearings and accusations screamed by reporter after reporter faded as I stretched out on the bed, willing my mind to forget my cousin’s face as the jury foreman read his sentence—life without the possibility of parole. And not life at some fancy Club Fey prison either. Hard time. In a prison even smaller than the one my father had resided in during the last five years of his life.

  Even as the foreman read the verdict and I watched a sobbing Clark being led away in handcuffs, I knew it wasn’t over. It wouldn’t be until I made good on my promise to leave New Never City and my partner. I couldn’t take the chance of hurting her again.

  Izzy didn’t quite see it that way, though. “How can you leave? We still have open cases. What about the missing fairies? You promised Peyton that you’d find them,” she yelled as we sat in her office after I’d told her of my decision to move far, far away. “I don’t understand. Please, Blue ... don’t do this.”

  Though I knew she was right, that I was walking away before I found the missing fairies for Peyton, I tried to explain why I had to leave, to put words to what I felt, how I’d felt when I held her lifeless body in my arms, but they wouldn’t come. So I said, instead of answering her, “I’ll e-mail you an address where you can send my things.” And then I walked out the doors of what was now Davis Securities.

  My heart burned in my chest.

  I’d done the right thing.

  I knew it, even if Izzy didn’t.

  I took a drink from my half-empty glass of expensive whiskey, enjoying as it burned a path down my throat and into my stomach. Pain was good. It meant I was still alive. Still feeling, even if the rest of me felt nothing. On the TV news ticker at the bottom of the screen, updates from the Tooth Fairy election scrolled across the television. Clayton had won by a few hundred votes. I shook my head, wondering if those few hundred votes matched the names of the few hundred missing fairies. I wouldn’t put it past the twins.

  A knock at the hotel room door drew me from my dark musings. I put the whiskey glass on the night table and slowly got out of bed. “Yeah?” I called.

  “Room service,” a muffled voice responded.

  I opened the door. “I didn’t order—” The sight in front of me so surprised me that words failed to form on my tongue. “Izzy?” I choked out. “What the hell
are you doing here?”

  “Can I come in?” she asked, rather than answer my pointed question.

  I motioned her inside, still unable to process the fact that she was here. In my hotel room. And from the look of her tanned legs poking out from a trench coat covering her from shoulder to midthigh, she was nearly or completely naked underneath.

  Izzy stepped inside, her gaze taking in the almost empty bottle of whiskey, the rumpled bedcovers, and my bare chest. “We damn well better be alone, Blue.”

  I grinned. “We are.”

  “Good.” She gripped the belt around her waist. “We have a few things to discuss.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes.”

  I tore my gaze from her legs. “How did you find me?”

  She grinned. “I learned how to track people from the best investigator.”

  “Why are you here?” I asked, my voice hoarse with equal parts lust and fear. Lust won out as she slowly untied the belt holding her trench coat closed. “Izzy, I don’t think . . .”

  “Then don’t think, Blue. Forget everything but right now. This moment.” Her coat pooled at her feet, leaving a very naked, very lovely half human, half fairy in front of me. Every thought I had flew from my mind, and all I could think to do was take her into my arms.

  Which was exactly what I did.

  Neither of us speaking as sparks exploded around us.

  The jarring buzz of Izzy’s cell phone woke me in the middle of the night. I reached for the ringing phone on the nightstand, careful not to disturb the fairy lying next to me, our bodies close but not touching. She slept the sleep of angels—or more to the point, of a woman who’d experienced multiple, electrifying orgasms. My hand fumbled along the edge of the nightstand until my fingers curled around the phone. I answered with a growl. “What?”