by R. J. Blain
Rising to his feet, Rob took hold of my elbow, guided me in the direction of the kitchen, and waited until I slid onto one of the stools at the island counter. He hooked another stool with his foot and dragged it over, sitting close enough to me I would have to lean away to avoid him.
“What do you have for me?”
“Remember those invoices between Dean Lewis and Terry Moore?” Marlene flipped through the pages, pulled out a single page, and slid it to us. “Take a look at this.”
I held my breath, scanning over the paper. The format of the invoice was the same, although the copy Marlene had found lacked any information. Picking up the page, Rob examined it, the muscles of his cheek twitching.
Marlene pulled out several more sheets, tossing them to me. “You’re more familiar with his operations.”
In all my years of working with the man, Kenneth Smith hadn’t liked leaving a paper trail. He kept his most insidious schemes in his head, relying on people like me to implement his plans. His hounds were his strongest asset, his weakest link, and the ones doomed to take the fall to protect his empire.
A list of numbers, which I recognized as matching the invoices for the women’s murders, were accompanied by names, all written in Smith’s unsteady scribble. “He changed after the Dawn,” I admitted, flipping through the pages. “The only papers he used to keep were all legal. He’d never keep anything that could be used against him in his main house if he kept anything at all. We were the fall girls. If it was needed in writing, we wrote it up so no one could recognize his handwriting. This is definitely his writing, though.”
“I’m assuming the copies of the invoices were the ones you provided to him.” Marlene picked up a bunch of the papers and set them aside, pulling out a few more sheets. “He had a few extras in his files, already filled out with a name clipped to each one of them, as well as instructions. Most of them he wanted killed.”
Rob held his hand out for the pages. “Most?”
Instead of handing them to him, Marlene gave the topmost three sheets to me. “It’s a good thing he’s already dead. While Mr. Lucrage can usually be reasoned with, he is, by his very nature, rather unreasonable, especially when it comes to you.”
Rob tried to snatch the papers out of my hand. I hopped off my stool, spinning out of his reach. “No, sir, I don’t think so. It’s mine. She gave it to me. Get your own.”
“Alexa,” he growled.
“No.” I glared at him, and while he leaned over my stool, one hand bracing himself where I’d been sitting moments before, he didn’t pursue me. I turned my attention to the note clipped to the invoice.
Unlike the other invoices, the instructions outlined a plan meant to keep me under the influence of the red drug permanently with a gradual increase of dosage. My entire body shook, and the papers fluttered in my hand as I flipped over the handwritten notes describing where he wanted me held and how he wanted me trained for his pleasure.
Jacob injecting me with the red drug hadn’t been a part of the original plan. Terry Moore would have administered the initial injection. Scratches and notations detailed how my former boss had intended to change his plans to account for my working with the police.
It even mentioned eliminating Rob to ensure there were no obstacles for him obtaining what—no, who—he wanted.
My knees buckled and I sat down hard. Rob knocked over our stools in his effort to reach me, grabbing hold of the back of my neck so I wouldn’t hit my head on the floor. He pulled me close so I leaned on him, and the pages slipped out of my numb fingers.
Before Rob could make a grab for the notes, Colby darted forward and ate the evidence of what Kenneth Smith had meant to do to me.
While the shock of what had been written on the notes froze me in place and chilled me to the bone, the heat of Rob’s fury snapped me out of it. Leaning me against the kitchen island, he stood, all of his attention focused on Colby.
“Not food,” my macaroni and cheese squealed, fleeing across the living room.
Rob’s calm, calculating visage shattered, and with an incoherent snarl, he chased after my walking, talking culinary catastrophe. Smacking both of his hands on the back of the couch, Rob launched himself over it, crashing onto the coffee table, which collapsed under his weight.
Colby laughed and zipped away, bouncing to the ceiling and sticking there, far out of the other dae’s reach.
“I believe I already said Mr. Lucrage loses his ability to be a rational being when it comes to you.” Marlene sighed.
“Give it back, you neon-orange freak.” Rob jumped in an effort to reach Colby. “So help me, I’ll dissect you.”
Colby spit a soggy mess of ink-streaked papers in Rob’s face before plopping into Oliver’s aquarium and retreating into the octopus’s cave.
Sullivan cleared his throat. “If you break the aquarium, you’ll flood the entire place, possibly get Alexa sick again, and hurt her new friend. Did one of us mention that octopus kept her from drowning?”
Rob’s eyes were a blue so pale and cold shivers ran down my spine. The dissolving papers fell to the floor in clumps, and red streaks marred his face where they had touched him. Focusing his attention on Marlene, he glared, his breaths fast and heavy. “What was written on those pages? She was terrified.”
“Ask her later. It doesn’t affect what we need to discuss right now.” Marlene glanced in my direction. “I didn’t think you’d react so strongly. I apologize.”
“Marlene.”
“Rob, leave it.” I got to my feet, picked up my stool, and was halfway on it when Rob spat curses, grabbed his stool, and joined me. “What else did you find?”
“Potential target lists, inventory lists, and location lists. I think some of this information might be on that red drug. Contact lists, though I have no idea how he was working with those individuals. There’s also a list of all those working beneath him. We modified that list before returning the originals, making sure all pages mentioning you were gone, Miss Daegberht. The only information dealing with you that we returned related to your work for him, as it’d be suspicious if he had no information on you whatsoever.”
At the hesitation in Marlene’s voice, I crossed my arms over my chest. “What else?”
“Arthur Hasling—the original one—was one of Mr. Smith’s associates. A hound? Maybe a smuggler? We found some older documents in his files. Legitimate sales.”
Rob tensed beside me. “Smith was trying to work with Dean Lewis at the college right at the time of the Dawn.”
“I was hoping you could tell us if Mr. Smith would have been working with Dean Lewis, or if he had motivation to try to bring him down.”
I didn’t have to think long or hard about Marlene’s question. “Who doesn’t? Of course he would’ve been happy to get rid of Dean Lewis. The elite are always eager to see their competition fail.”
“That’s what I thought. All this information has brought up more questions than answers, unfortunately. After seeing the videos and invoices, I had been convinced of Dean Lewis’s guilt, but then I saw these papers.” Marlene got up and paced, shaking her head.
I banged my forehead into the kitchen counter, ignoring Rob’s anxious protests. “I’m such an idiot. It’s so obvious. Dean Lewis is a lot of things, but he wouldn’t be so stupid. Why would he put his name on an invoice for a murder? Of course, after seeing the police databases and dealing with my classmates, it’s entirely possible he is that stupid.”
“You can lead a man to knowledge but you can’t make him think,” the woman muttered. I lifted my head in time to watch Marlene level a glare at Rob.
Sullivan hooted his laughter. “Sounds like it was a well laid plan by someone. The question is this: was Dean Lewis that stupid or was Kenneth Smith actually that smart?”
We argued for hours over the information Marlene had liberated from Smith’s townhouse. She hadn’t brought all the papers she had stolen, but if what she told us was true, we’d be spending a long time sorti
ng out the mess and looking for the truth.
Long after Marlene, Analise, and Sullivan left, I stared into Oliver’s aquarium without really seeing it. I should have been watching for Colby to emerge from the octopus’s hidey hole.
Instead, I brooded over the endless list of things I should have done differently. I should have believed Netzach and focused on finding Rob rather than killing my boss. I should have focused on the potential for life rather than the certainty of death.
I definitely shouldn’t have ridden a unicorn who boarded a cargo ship by jumping onto it from the docks. It’d be at least another week before my face stopped hurting and the bruises went away, and no amount of makeup hid the dark marks stretching over my cheeks beneath my eyes.
I definitely shouldn’t have shot the bullet bomb Sullivan had given me. Killing Smith hadn’t given me any peace. If anything, it had put Rob’s life at further risk.
If Oliver hadn’t forced me to hold my breath so I wouldn’t suffocate on river water, I would have died. If Rob hadn’t somehow managed to drag me to shore, I would have died.
Without Colby, Rob would have died, too.
If I had stopped to truly think, if I had taken the time to listen to Sullivan, Analise, and Marlene and believe what they had been trying to tell me, so many things would have been different—would have been better.
We could have found Rob and kept Smith alive long enough to question.
The information Marlene had found may have saved me from making a huge mistake. I had been prepared to ruin Dean Lewis’s reputation because of the incriminating invoices and videos.
I couldn’t accept punishing someone for a crime he may not have committed. If the wrong person paid for the crimes done to those women, there’d never be any real justice for them. I’d just be murdering someone, making me no better than Terry Moore.
The hopeless horror I had endured when I had first seen the videos overwhelmed me as tears burned in my eyes. No matter what station of life, no one deserved to be raped and killed.
As long as the red drug existed, no one would be safe. Its pleasures still haunted me, as did its pain.
Rob sighed. “Alexa, darling, you’re going to make both of us sick if you keep it up. What’s bothering you? Everything worked out.”
Life before Rob had been so much simpler. I had done as I was told, and I hadn’t put too much thought into it. The only thing that had mattered had been making sure I kept moving forward.
Everything had changed because of Rob.
Before him, I wouldn’t have cared so much about women I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have given a second thought to destroying Dean Lewis’s name and reputation.
I would have done my job and smothered my guilt beneath my ambition for a better life.
“Alexa?” Rob shifted on the couch beside me, nudging me with his elbow. “A little saltwater isn’t going to hurt Colby, if that’s what you’re so anxious about.”
“I’m a terrible hound,” I blurted, forcing my gaze away from the aquarium to my hands, which were clasped together on my lap. My knuckles turned white.
“I’m confused. What’s going on? You’re not a dog, Alexa. You’re definitely not a hound, a war dog, or whatever other derogatory term you want to come up with for yourself. You’re most definitely not his. You’re mine.”
Some things never changed. I shook my head, sighed, and replied, “I’m supposed to be good at digging up information about people. I’m supposed to be good at hunting people down. I’m supposed to be good at figuring people out and using that knowledge to my advantage.” I hesitated. “No, to Smith’s advantage.”
“Everyone makes mistakes. Look at me. I let someone get the drop on me. I didn’t even realize I had been kidnapped until shortly before Colby found me. You escaped from Hasling all on your own. Me? When I got grabbed, I needed the help of a bright orange casserole to escape. I don’t remember much about it, but I never want to wake up again with Colby in my face, smacking me, and informing me I’m not food.”
A giggle slipped out before I could contain it. “Everyone told me you were tough to kill.”
“Darling, a demented child with a toothpick could have killed me at that moment.” Rob scrunched his nose and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why did you get to hog all the fun? I wanted to kill the bastard.”
“Shouldn’t have slept on the job, then.”
I’d gotten lucky in so many ways. The Dawn of Dae had changed the world, and in some ways, for the better. The original Kenneth Smith wouldn’t have kept someone as valuable as Rob alive for long. Rob’s body would’ve been in the river within hours, left to rot—or he would have been sold out to the highest bidder in another city, drugged into complacency, and sent away to eliminate the evidence.
“See? You’re able to joke about it at my expense. It isn’t all bad. Talk to me. What’s bothering you?”
“I don’t know if Dean Lewis is guilty or innocent,” I confessed.
“I see.”
“Do you?” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. The sensual smile he flashed me warmed me from the inside, and a blush heated my cheeks. “I’m being serious here.”
“So am I. You have so many chips on your pretty little shoulders you don’t know which elite you want to lash out at first, yet you simply can’t stand the thought of targeting someone who might not be guilty, can you?”
I sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. “How did you know that?”
Rob snorted. “I have eyes. I use them. You’re a tough lady, Miss Daegberht, but underneath all the anger at your lot in life, you hesitate to hurt someone who doesn’t deserve it. You want to help people, even though it could cause you trouble later. You’re a good person, and that is why you don’t like the idea of hunting Dean Lewis without confirmation he’s actually involved and not just another one of Smith’s victims.”
Rob was right, but I didn’t want to admit it. Me? A good person?
I had, in my desire for revenge, ended Smith’s life. I had killed Lily under the assumption she would kill me if I turned my back on her. I had killed my share of people over the years. I had ruined lives.
How could Rob still think of me as a good person after all I had done?
“What do you want to do, Alexa? You can walk away, you know. You don’t have to pursue the videos. With Smith dead, his drug ring will collapse and fragment over a lot of dealers who don’t have a clue about running a large-scale operation. Without his money fueling the system, it’s likely the red drug’s development will come to a stop. You could walk away.”
Walking away wasn’t an option. I shook my head so hard my hair whipped side to side.
Rob slipped his arm behind my back and pulled me close, kissing the top of my head. “If you’re not going to let it go, then I suppose it’s a good thing you work for the police, isn’t it? If Dean Lewis is involved, do you really think he’s going to stop because one supplier died? Unlikely. If he’s behind their deaths, he’ll make a mistake. When he does, you’ll be there hunting him.”
“You’re being too damned reasonable. Stop it,” I complained, huffing and staring at Oliver’s aquarium. “You weren’t really going to do anything to Colby, were you?”
Rob shook his head and snorted. “Of course not. I’m just mad I owe the runt for the help. I still want to know what those papers said.”
“You have a strange way of showing your gratitude.” I chewed on my lower lip so I wouldn’t smile. “You still have red marks on your face. You should put something on those.”
“They’ll be gone by tomorrow. In a week, you won’t have any bruises left, either, and no one will know you broke your nose. Maybe Smith’s out of the picture, but his death is only the beginning. Once people realize he’s gone for good, there will be a lot of people fighting for the chance to take over his life.”
I frowned. “Why should I care?”
Rob released me, got to his feet and went to the aquarium, bending over to peer int
o Oliver’s cave. Tapping on the glass, he made a thoughtful noise in his throat before saying, “If Dean Lewis was really hiring Terry Moore to kill those women, he’ll hunt down a new killer and another batch of drugs. You want justice for their deaths, and I promised I’d help you get it. Who knows? You could be the one who takes Smith’s place. We could make you the Queen of Baltimore.”
I laughed. “Why would I accept a demotion? Sullivan already calls me Your Imperial Majesty. I’m pretty certain Imperial Majesties are higher in rank than mere queens. You’ll have to do better than that, sir.”
Rob turned to face me, his eyes wide. “He said that?”
Oliver chose that moment to zip out of his cave, dart to the surface of the aquarium, and dive onto Rob. All eight tentacles wrapped around Rob’s head, covering his eyes. Rob choked out a single word before a slimy tentacle gagged him.
Grimacing, I watched the struggle between the dae and the cephalopod, remembering just how awful octopus slime tasted.
While Rob struggled to extract the octopus from his face, Colby emerged from the safety of Oliver’s cave, surged out of the water, and used Rob’s back as a springboard to launch itself across the living room.
I ended up with a lap full of wet, oozing noodles. Sighing, I patted Colby, grimacing at the neon-orange stains on my skin. “It’s okay, Colby. I won’t let him do anything.”
Oliver held Rob hostage until the dae fell to his hands and knees. Before I worried too much about Rob’s safety, the octopus released him and climbed up the glass to plop back into the water, leaving slimy streaks in its wake.
Rob groaned, hanging his head in defeat. “Beaten by an octopus.”
“Poor Rob. You’ve had such a hard day. Why don’t I take you to bed, tuck you in, and make you feel all better?”
Today, I had Rob, odd friends I didn’t feel I deserved, and a new appreciation for my life. Tomorrow, I would worry about the rest.