He closed his eyes as grief washed over him. He’d received way too many of these calls. He should be used to them by now. “Thank you for letting me know. Did she regain consciousness at all?”
Warm fingers lightly stroked his face and he opened his eyes. Heather stared back at him, compassion warming her gaze.
“She didn’t, but I was able to scan an image from her mind. I’m pretty sure it was the person who possessed her.”
“I’ll retrieve the image the next time I see you, but could you describe what you saw for me now?”
“Female, late twenties or early thirties, very pretty, with long silver hair and pale-blue eyes. I couldn’t sense what she was exactly, but she was certainly not human.”
He caught Heather’s wrist and guided her hand away from his face, too agitated to accept comfort. The person who matched that description was dead. Ian had made sure of it himself. “Thank you.” He had to force the words past the massive lump in his throat.
“I’m very sorry for your loss. Natasha will be missed.”
Something in Grace’s tone made Jake tense. “Does Enya know about this?”
Grace sighed. “Yes, sir. She caught up with us last night and has been with Natasha ever since. She’s taking it very hard.”
Jake leaned his head against the headboard and stared at the ceiling, tormented by his own thoughts. He’d been really vague about the attack when he switched cars with Enya. He should have realized she wouldn’t leave it alone. “May I speak with her?”
“Of course. Hold on.”
After a short pause, Enya said, “There is nothing you can say to make this better. You made your choice when you carried Heather Fitzroy into my bar.”
“I know you’re furious, but—”
“You don’t know anything! She was my best friend, the only person I could trust. I hope your wolf was worth it.”
“Enya, that’s not fair. I—”
“Stay away from me. I won’t be responsible for my actions if you intrude on my grief.”
The bitter anguish in his sister’s tone cut into Jake like ruthless talons. She didn’t give him the chance to respond. She ended the call, leaving Jake feeling hollow and torn.
If Zophiel was involved, chances were good this had nothing to do with Heather. But that didn’t bring Natasha back. Enya had every right to be angry.
Jake set the phone aside, stunned and silent. Danger was an inherent part of personal security, especially for highly placed Therians. Natasha knew there were significant risks when she took the job. Still, this felt wrong, unnatural.
“That was about Natasha. Wasn’t it?” Heather drew his gaze back to her face. Her pained expression reflected his sorrow.
“She didn’t make it.”
Heather leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her warm body against his chest. “I’m sorry.” She said nothing more, just held him and showered his being with support and compassion.
He stared into the distance as anger and helplessness took turns pummeling him. Gradually the silence became oppressive, so he said, “Natasha didn’t deserve this. She was one of the most selfless people I’ve ever met.”
“Were you more than her employer?” Her tone was casual but a dart of jealousy flashed across their link, a hot little ember quickly extinguished.
He shook his head, secretly pleased by her reaction. If she felt nothing more for him than lust, she wouldn’t be jealous. Her growing affection for him was a tiny ray of light piercing the darkness. “We were friends, but she was really close with Enya. Enya is devastated.”
“Were they…lovers?”
“No.” He eased her back so he could see her face. “There was nothing sexual between any of us. They’d both survived violent abuse and it drew them together. After Natasha left her husband, she lived with Enya for a couple of years. Enya talked me into giving Natasha a job and Natasha ended up being much better at it than any of us imagined. Nothing lurid, just friends helping friends.”
Heather rested her hands on his shoulders, looking miserable. “I feel horrible about this. If I hadn’t run none of this would have happened.”
He shook his head. “It’s not your fault. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. If what I suspect is true, the attack had nothing to do with you.”
“What do you suspect?” She watched him carefully, her emotions closely guarded once again.
“Grace was able to pull an image of Natasha’s attacker out of her mind. The description fits a woman named Zophiel. We thought Ian had taken care of her, but now I’m not so sure.”