Betrayer, page 5
part #3 of The Shining Ones Series
“Stand back,” he yelled, opening the door a second time.
The trailer had become a raging inferno. Everywhere I looked, there were flames: hot, searing spirals of wildfire licking up the walls, over my sofa, destroying all the new things that Adam had installed after the break-in. It was all gone. My whole life was literally going up in flames and I had to choke back a hysterical laugh before I completely lost it. I had a second, no more than that, to mourn my loss before we were dashing down what was left of my hallway toward the front door.
The bottoms of my bare feet were burning as I tripped over a melted piece of linoleum and stumbled to my knees. The pain of the liquid vinyl burning into my legs was almost enough to take my breath away, but not quite. I screamed out in agony as the pain shot up my legs. Adam seized me by my shoulders and dragged me to my feet, propelling me forward in front of him.
It took everything I had to keep going, the adrenaline burning away the pain and fear as I hustled toward where the front door used to be. It was a burning ring of fire. I hesitated for a second and then was through the door, stumbling out into the yard, my feet sizzling on the wet dewy grass, my lungs taking in mouthfuls of clean, oxygenated air. I wanted to stay upright, wanted to stay awake, but the trauma was too much as my body began to shut down. I searched frantically for Daisy as the darkness swooped in.
The grass rushing toward my face was the last thing I saw.
4
I bolted awake with a sharp intake of breath. It took a second for the pain in my feet and back to register, and when it did, it was like an unholy agony causing my teeth to clench and my brow to break out in a hard sweat. Trying to cope with the pain, I took shallow gulps of air, searching around my surroundings: the soft cream sofa beneath me covered in soot and blood, one of Adam’s clean shirts enveloping my shoulders, the buttons done up, but just barely. I scrabbled upright, hissing as my feet dug into the sofa for leverage—they were bandaged and wrapped, the damage impossible to see. I glanced around, looking at familiar objects, when I realized I was in Adam’s living room.
Where was Daisy? Where was my dog?
Panic set in as I wobbled to my feet—I had to find Daisy. I took three steps around Adam’s glass coffee table before collapsing from the excruciating torture of being upright, my feet in complete revolt.
Adam and Birdie came rushing into the living room. By the looks of Adam, he wasn’t in much better shape than me. His pain, however, didn’t mask the concern on his face as he bent down beside me, lifting me back up. He led me back over to the ruined sofa, and I didn’t even pretend to be okay as I crumbled back onto its cushions. Birdie stood behind Adam, frowning.
“What are you doing up?” asked Adam. Haggard and worn out, his face was still covered in oily black marks, his untidy mop of hair positively a mess with clumps of hair missing completely. He looked terrible.
“Where’s Daisy?” The anxiety was still creeping its way up my chest. The lump in my throat made it impossible to swallow as the tears began to obstruct my view, the pain in my feet adding to agony that was blossoming under my ribs. I tried to lick my lips but failed, my mouth dry as cotton. I glanced between the two of them, not liking the look on either of their faces. “Is she—”
“She’s alive,” Adam said quietly, his eyes holding something back.
“Just,” retorted Birdie. His anger was real and raw. The waxy paleness of his skin, his t-shirt and pajama bottoms with his shoes on but not tied, clearly meant he’d been woken up.
“Where is she?” I asked, trying to get back up off the couch. “I want to see her. I want my dog.”
Birdie shook his head, his eyebrows knitted together, his mouth tight, his arms crossed. “She was in a real bad state, Poe. I had to rush her to the emergency vet on Wilmington.” He stopped, visibly shaken. Birdie was barely holding onto his composure. “She got burned pretty bad. They’re keeping her sedated because of the pain, and…” His words trailed off.
“And what?” I asked, my hands clenched at my sides.
“She might be blind, Poe.” Birdie’s voice was hoarse, just above a whisper.
I let out a sob as both men stood awkwardly watching me lose it. Then another.
Birdie rushed to my side, clasping my hands in his lap, pulling me into him. He shushed me as he rocked me back and forth, avoiding my back as best he could. I could feel his tears on my part as he pressed his cheek to my hair. “I’m so sorry, Poe,” Birdie said in a choked voice. “She was a great dog.”
Talking about her in the past tense opened a fresh wound in me that festered with rage and violence. I shoved him away, pushing hard against his chest. Birdie sat stupefied, his red-rimmed eyes unblinking, his breath ragged. It made me angrier.
“She’s not dead, god damn it. How dare you write her off already?” I yelled at him. His shock was turning to disbelief.
“Poesy—” Adam warned from where he still stood standing. Oh my god, he was going to take Birdie’s side.
“What?” I snapped at him.
“Birdie saved her life by taking her when I could not. It is not his fault,” Adam replied with a cool edge to his voice.
“You’re right, it’s not his fault. It’s yours. All of it!”
“Enough.” Adam’s voice was hard and brittle.
But Birdie wasn’t having any of it. His head swiveled back and forth between us, his face a mixture of confusion and hurt. He was still smarting from my words, but now we had his complete attention.
“What do you mean it’s his fault?” asked Birdie, throwing an angry look in my direction.
Adam regarded Birdie with a cool indifference. “It is time for you to go, James. Poesy is tired.”
I looked down at my hands lying in my lap, clenching and unclenching them, trying to get my rage under control. My own outburst had put me in this situation. And now Birdie was asking the very questions that I didn’t want him to ask. After trying to keep him out of danger for so long, I’d put him right in it with one simple slipup.
“It’s nothing,” I muttered, still unable to make eye contact with Birdie. “I’m just tired, like Adam said. Just drop it.”
It was never that easy with Birdie. I caught his frown out of the corner of my eye before he tilted my chin with his steady fingers, forcing the one thing I was trying desperately to avoid. He searched my face. “Don’t lie to me, Poe. What’s going on? Don’t keep me in the dark.”
Birdie should’ve never touched me. For Adam, it was like a red flag to a bull. He strode the short distance between him and Birdie and ripped his hand away from my face. “I do believe I said it was time to go, James. You are, after all, in my house.”
Birdie shrugged Adam’s hand off, his glare lethal and unyielding. “You asked for my help, asshole. I want to know what the hell is going on and why she’s always in danger when she’s around you. For fuck’s sake, it’s so god damn obvious. You think everyone doesn’t see it?”
“Enough,” I protested. Picking up Birdie’s hand, I placed it in between my own, squeezing hard. He stared at me in silent defiance. “I can’t do this right now. Please, Birdie, please just go home. We’ll talk, I promise.”
He was up like a shot, his frustration almost like another body in the room, but to give Birdie credit, he reined it in. He didn’t, however, give Adam another glance. His blue eyes were focused solely on my gray ones. “Okay, I’m going, but we’re not done, Poe. Not by a long shot.”
Birdie leaned over and gave me a quick kiss on my cheek before pushing off the back of the sofa and striding to the door. Adam didn’t even bother to show him out. The front door slammed shut with a thud, shaking the sash windows.
The pain in my feet and back were the only things keeping me from losing it completely. If I thought too long and hard about Daisy or the total destruction that was now my life, I wouldn’t make it. The tightness in my chest made it hard to breathe, but getting hysterical again wasn’t in the cards. I was too tired for a start—that part had been true—but I was also worried about the attention we’d brought to ourselves yet again. My trailer had been a blazing inferno—it would’ve been hardly subtle. I said as much to Adam.
“It has been taken care of,” he replied. Adam walked around the coffee table and took a seat next to me.
“What? How?” I said in a choked voice. Shock must’ve been radiating off me as I turned to face him, my back throbbing. “Bud Riley will be all over us like a bad rash. It wasn’t like he totally believed the story about Arthur, and you know it.”
Sheriff Bud Riley had had it in for Adam almost since the beginning of the string of murders that had ended at Jekyll Island with Arthur’s death. Pinning the murders on Arthur had been Adam’s idea, one I’d strongly objected to, but Sheriff Riley hadn’t been so easily swayed. Not that I blamed him. Adam hadn’t been there when Arthur had claimed to be my English uncle in front of the sheriff—that either made me completely stupid for not knowing my supposed relative was a serial killer or a big, fat liar. No second guesses for what the sheriff thought.
Adam gave me a knowing look. “It is taken care of, Poesy.”
I shook my head. “Oh no, you’re not just going to throw that out there and leave it like that. How is it taken care of? Why aren’t there deputies breaking your door down looking for us after everything I own just went up in flames?”
Adam sighed, raking his hand through his hair. This close, I could see where the bald spots were after the fire, the places where embers had landed and burned his beautiful hair away. His scalp looked red and angry, but he was healing at an impossible rate as usual. I quickly wondered how long it would take me to recover. Going back to Rockfish tomorrow was out of the question.
“Sheriff Riley was persuaded to take early retirement and to promote a deputy of my choosing. Are you happy now?” He was clearly exasperated, but not nearly as much as I was. Then it dawned on me—there could only be one way that Bud Riley would walk off the job. Bud Riley, who’d been struggling on a policeman’s salary.
“Oh my god, you paid him off,” I exclaimed, slapping my hand over my mouth.
“Poesy,” Adam warned.
I smacked my hand down on my sore leg and winced. “Holy sweet Jesus, you did. You bribed the sheriff!”
“You may call it that if you like,” Adam said, his chin dipping in defiance. “But I would like to see it as an opportunity.”
Still shocked, I watched his face closely as I asked him the obvious question: “An opportunity for what?”
Adam stood up, looking down at me. “To buy us time. To give us some breathing room.” He started to limp around the living room like a wounded tiger in a cage. “It is hard enough to stay one step ahead of this situation without human law enforcement impeding us further. He was amenable enough.”
A strangled sound made its way out of my mouth. “So is that why no one has come to question me about my trailer?”
“Yes,” confessed Adam, coming to a halt in front of me. “The new sheriff has already been in contact with me and is now filing the police report. The cause of the fire was a gas leak.”
“A gas leak?” My voice sounded dubious to my own ears.
“Yes, it made the most sense. Newly installed gas stove in the kitchen, cracked gas line, you get the idea.” His words trailed off.
“But what about the firemen, what about the break-in? Won’t that rouse suspicion?” I thought back to Birdie’s previous accusation—everyone sensing that all my accidents were somehow linked to Adam. This would be one more nail in that coffin. Maybe it was time to leave Tybee after all.
“The new sheriff has handled it. There is no arson investigation, and the break-in, well, it still stands, unfortunately.” Adam gave me a tight-lipped smile. Although he was trying his best to assure me that everything was handled and neatly tied up, he didn’t believe it himself.
What I asked next wasn’t going to help his uncertainty either. “So,” I said, licking my lips and wishing that my mouth wasn’t so dry, “who do you think did it? Was that the welcome party to what’s coming?”
Adam shook his head, his frown unmistakable. “If I am honest, I do not know. It would not do to try to kill me before I have been tried before a set of my own peers. As I have said before, there are strict rules that guide my kind.”
I couldn’t help the sigh. “Yeah, and look where it’s gotten us so far. I’m not so sure that your people are really good at following rules anymore…if they ever were.”
“Poesy—” Adam started to warn me, but there was a quiet knock at the door.
We gazed at each other, a look passing between us. The knock came again, louder this time. I sat up straighter on the sofa, my feet pressed firmly and uncomfortably on the slick wood floor. We weren’t expecting company—of this I was pretty sure.
“Could it be Joe or Haylee?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“No,” Adam replied, shaking his head. “I told them you needed rest.”
The knock came again, more of a hammering than a knock now. It was a tempo that law enforcement would’ve used, but I knew now that they were all on the take.
Adam tossed his head toward the spare bedroom, his hands in fists by his side. His stance was a menacing one and it immediately made my heart race and my palms tingle. It was finally happening.
“No,” I said forcefully, standing up on my injured feet. “I’m staying.”
“Go,” urged Adam, shoving me toward the hallway. “Go to the spare bedroom and take the window to the porch. I will hold them off as long as I can.”
My mind was screaming at me to run, but my heart was holding steadfast, rooting me to the spot. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. We were meant to be in it together to the very end. I clutched at Adam’s singed sleeve. “Please don’t send me away. I don’t want to be without you.”
Adam was quiet for a second or two before he spoke again, his voice constricted. His look of regret was brief, but still I clung to him, hoping he’d change his mind. He pulled me in for a kiss before pushing me back again, his eyes never leaving my face. “No, it would all be for nothing if you do not survive, Poesy. Go now.”
When I let go of him, it felt like I had become untethered from reality. Survival mode kicked in whether I wanted it to or not, even as the sting of tears blurred my vision. I hobbled as fast as I could to the spare bedroom. Sprinting was out of the question. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I made it as far as shutting the bedroom door when I heard another door slam up against a wall, causing the ground to shudder.
The front door.
My heart was hammering in my chest as I wobbled across the room and to the window. Not allowing myself to think about what was happening to Adam in the next room, I grabbed the sash with both hands and shoved. Nothing happened. I checked the lock once more—it was cranked to the unlocked position. With my heart hammering away up in my throat, I tried it again, the panic increasing as I jiggled the window again to no avail. It was stuck.
What was I going to do? I was trapped. I couldn’t go back out into the hallway without being spotted—I was guaranteed to get caught. If I could’ve snuck into one of the other bedrooms to make my escape, I might’ve had a chance, but that wasn’t happening. The only option left was breaking the window, and the sound of shattering glass alone would have the whole angel army on top of me in seconds. I didn’t have Adam’s time-changing abilities—or speed, for that matter—to help aid my getaway. My feet pulsed with pain as if to reemphasize that point. I was about as helpless as any human right then.
I’d just about given up and was bending down to crawl under the bed when the bedroom door opened wide, a dark shadow standing in the doorway. A small squeal of fright escaped from my lips as I dropped to the floor, scurrying underneath the edge of the bed. As if that would make a difference.
“Poesy, stop,” said a familiar voice. It halted me in my tracks, my bottom lip caught between my teeth to keep from crying out in pain or relief…I wasn’t sure which.
“Adam?” I croaked out.
His steps echoed around the bedroom as he made his way to my side of the bed and extended an arm to me. “Yes, my love. Come out.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, hopelessly wedged under the bed. It hadn’t been my smartest escape plan, to be sure.
“Yes, for now. I have someone you must meet. She insists,” replied Adam, his voice still far from reassuring.
There was something he wasn’t telling me, and it was almost enough to give me pause. Not that there was time to refuse. His hand caught my arm and pulled, causing me to hiss as my back scraped along the hardwood.
When I was finally disentangled from the bed, Adam helped me stand up while I eyed him warily. “You don’t seem so sure,” I remarked.
“There really is no choice. It will become clear. Come.” Adam seized my hand and practically dragged me back into the living room while I cursed him softly under my breath. I was ready to argue with him further, my eyes turned his way, my rebuttal on my lips as I readjusted my sorry excuse for clothes. Then she cleared her throat, and it was like time stood still as I looked up.
She was impossibly tall, at least six feet, and willowy like a runway model. Her coffee-brown eyes, framed by perfectly arched eyebrows, looked achingly familiar as she glared at me. Same with the freckles. They were another reminder of something I couldn’t quite place. But the hair. My god, the hair was like looking into a blazing fire, tendrils colored to match the sparks of a red-hot flame. Calling it red would’ve been the understatement of the year. I stood gawking at the fieriest redheaded woman I’d ever seen, who was standing in front of me with her hands on her hips like she had an axe to grind.
