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Darknight(88)

By:Christine Pope


And if I turned out to be wrong…if these sneaking doubts and suspicions were only that, and not the instincts of a prima at work…would Connor forgive me for thinking these things of his brother?

I didn’t want to think about that. He’d only been in my life for a few short months, but even so I couldn’t imagine losing him. No, that would never happen. The bond between a prima and her consort was unbreakable, even when stretched to the limit.

The words came forth in a rush, as if I knew I had to say them now before I talked myself out of uttering them. “I have a very bad feeling, Connor. You haven’t heard from Damon, and Mason said he’d been ill and hadn’t taught for a few days just before the attacks started. And with all those girls resembling one another…resembling me…you just can’t say that’s a coincidence anymore. I know you said he’d moved on, had focused his energies elsewhere, but I’m not sure I believe that. I think he’s still angry that his plan didn’t work, that he was unable to join his powers with mine, that he couldn’t use me to break the curse. I don’t know exactly what’s going on. I just feel that somehow he’s behind it.”

Through this whole speech, Connor listened silently. When I was done, he let go of me and stepped back a pace. Even that small separation was enough to cause my heart to miss a beat, telling me the words I’d just spoken were exactly the wrong ones.

Eyes narrowing, he said, “Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds, Angela? You have no proof. None at all. Just a few random facts that barely even connect. So what if Damon was sick and missed a few days of work? He’s the primus, but he’s still a regular man. There’s a bad flu going around. Did you stop to think it might just be that?”

“No, but — ”

“And I already told you that we’re not in constant contact, so not hearing from him for a while doesn’t mean all that much, either.”

“But what about all those girls?” I burst out. “Have you ever heard of a wild animal that attacks only a certain physical type? It’s not possible!”

He didn’t exactly look away from me, but I could see the way his gaze shifted, the way he wouldn’t quite meet my eyes. “There has to be some rational explanation — ”

“Then tell me what it is, because I sure as hell haven’t been able to come up with one.” I went to him then, took both his hands. At least he didn’t try to pull away, although normally he would have twined his fingers through mine. Instead, his hands just sort of sat in mine, limp and cool. Fine. I tightened my grip on his fingers. “Look, Connor, I would love for you to prove me wrong. Please prove me wrong. Just — I don’t know — call him.”

“And what if he doesn’t answer? He hates phones anyway, and if he’s not feeling well — ”

“Then let’s go out to his house. Make something up as a reason…we wanted to welcome Jessica to the family or something.”

His expression told me that was a silly idea. “Jessica’s already in the family, remember? Distantly, but still. They’ll know we’re snooping.”

“So what? If I’m wrong, I promise I’ll never suspect Damon of anything again. Isn’t it worth looking a little foolish to clear this whole thing up?”

For a few seconds he remained silent, clearly thinking it over. At last he let out a breath and gave a reluctant nod. “Okay, if only because it means you’ll finally let this thing go. Then we can get back to normal.”

Normal. I wasn’t so sure about that. How could anything be normal when young women were dying horribly? But at least if Damon was cleared of suspicion, it would mean this whole horrible killing spree was just some bizarre quirk of nature, with no darker motivation behind it.

“Thank you,” I said simply, and I meant it. Connor might not believe me, but at least he was willing to indulge me.

He pulled his car keys out of his pocket. “Let’s go.”



* * *



The ride out to Damon’s house was a tense, silent one. I watched the bleak late-winter landscape with its dead, dry grass and small patches of ice pass by outside the car window and tried not to think about what would be worse — having the primus laugh at me for entertaining such foolish suspicions, or having those suspicions confirmed.

Connor drove without looking at me, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. Goddess only knows what he must have been thinking. That I was wasting his time, that if I really cared about him, I would have taken him at his word?

I couldn’t say, because he sure wasn’t talking, and I didn’t have the courage to ask.