Deadly Shadows (15 page)

This morning was just full of revelations. He’d heard, of course. Who hadn’t?

What was he to do?

The harlots were never meant to be found. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

Never to be found. SHE had never been found. Others had never been found.

That was how it was supposed to be. Destiny saw to that, had seen to that so many times
before. Why now? Why were the whores turning up now, to haunt him from their graves? What
was so different?

He could all but hear his father’s disdainful voice, dripping with disappointment at this
last turn of events. That cold, calm, instructing voice that often masked the rage that could strike
unawares. He’d learned to read that calm, to anticipate its facade. It had been the only way to
survive. The loud voice of the past screamed in his head.

“No good, you’ll never amount to anything.”

“You must guard against harlots. God will protect you as long as you’re doing His will….”“Adultery is a sin….”

“Marriage a holy sacrament….”

The words and phrases careened in his mind, jumbled and sharp scattered fragments of
his past, mixing with the present.

He wished he could pace. He needed to pace. But stillness led to calming, and he had to
be calm. People noticed strange behavior. He swallowed a laugh. Pacing up and down the
sidewalk, or around the tables would be strange.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath to alleviate the worry skittering through his
nerves. Perhaps this was a test, a new test, more challenging, to dedicate his faith.

Yes, that had to be it.

Would they find the others? Were they meant to? There was a question.

He wasn’t stupid. The times they lived in made it hard for one such as him to evade
forever.Worry crept upon him, drowning out the voices around him, roaring in his head. His
fingers drummed out the rhythm of his favorite symphony on his leg.

Forensic science could find out all sorts of things. Had he been careful enough? What
would they find on the bodies? Two. They only had two. He’d been careful.

Always the gloves, the coat, the knife. What else was there?

No fingerprints. He left no mementos except what he took.

The harlots had all deserved death, but no one else was likely to see it that way. Silently,
he prayed.

The prayer rolled familiarly through his mind. Calmed him as the words tumbled forth.

A horn blared from the street.

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He reached up and fingered the pendant under his shirt.

Courage.

He would need courage to continue and continue he must.

For now his question about
her
had been answered. It was too much to leave to chance.

If none of the others had ever been connected ... But they had.

The hunger furled in him, coiling tighter, waiting until it could spring. Until the monster
could strike.

The roaring subsided.

The beast rested.

The haze clouding his vision receded. Life focused before him. People walked along the
sidewalks, talked about the day, drank coffee, ate pastries. Horns blared and cars hummed and
whined on the street

Two women directly in front of him bustled along, laughing and shifting shopping bags
as they made their way around the iron tables and through the side gate to the sidewalk.

Did they not see? Blind, they were all blind.

He would have to take more care next time. He picked up his coffee, sat up at the table,
and uncrossed his ankles. He needed a plan to get rid of the innocent. There was simply no
hope for it. She couldn’t be allowed to stop his mission.

“Can I get you anything else?”

He looked up and this one smiled.

The look in her eyes told him what she was thinking, what she was wanting.

He cocked his head and returned her grin. “I was thinking of some company,” he
answered her.

Her pink tongue darted out and licked her lips.

Whores, they were all whores.

“I can’t now.”

He thought for a moment. Was it too soon?

Her expression was one of hope and daring.

“How about tonight?” he asked. “Can you get away tonight?”

She looked around. “I don’t know. My roommate wondered the last time I stayed and
talked to you. I was supposed to have gotten home sooner.”

And she should have. Not flirting with him as she had been.

“Well, you only live once.”

She grinned again, her gaze running down him. “Are you certain
you
can get away?”

“Not a problem.”

He must make certain she was never found. Ravines were no longer an option, too many
hikers. They had worked so well before, but apparently he’d have to change.

There were caves and cliffs that were off limits. Lakes.

“Where?” she asked quietly.

Lakes. He smiled up at her. “How about a romantic evening up at Emerald?”

She worried her lower lip. Finally, she nodded. “Okay, I’ll meet you up there about
seven or so.”

“Fine.” He watched as she nodded, blew him a kiss and walked away.

A lake.

Perhaps God would align the heavens so that he could kill two birds with one stone. Two

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birds with one stone. He chuckled at the thought. He’d never done two in one night before.

The possibilities were endless.

Endless.

* * * *

Jesslyn awoke. Her eyes were gritty. Damn she’d forgotten to take out her contacts. But then again, with everything she and Aiden did, who the hell would have remembered contacts? She turned her head. Aiden slept quietly beside her. In sleep, he was as intimidating and as handsome as he was awake, but in slumber there was a softness to the edge that surrounded him. He reminded her of a black panther sleeping. Harmless was often an illusion. Power shrouded him, just as the white cotton sheets. His eyes weren’t as intense asleep, they reminded her of a little boy. Long black lashes lay spiky against his cheeks. Her fingers itched to trail down the strong, straight nose, to rub against the rough stubble darkening his jaw and upper lip.

Jesslyn bet he had to shave often. Raven locks stood up from his head, disarrayed from her fingers running rampant through it. Aiden was as wonderful asleep and relaxed as he was awake and moving.

On a contented sigh, she slipped from the bed.

Coffee. She needed coffee. In the living room, she pulled on Aiden’s blue silk shirt.

Shivering as the soft material slid over her skin, she buttoned up a few of the buttons. It looked like a hell of a party had gone on in here. One of her stockings draped over the lamp. Lord only knew where the other one was, or the rest of her clothing. She started to pick it up, but decided she’d get the coffee started first. After all, there were priorities in life. Coffee first, clean later.

Jesslyn fiddled in the kitchen, hunting up a breakfast of strawberries, bagels, and cream cheese. Her coffee was a bit on the strong side, but she didn’t care. In a minute she’d wake Aiden. Balancing the tray with the food, juice and coffees wasn’t easy, but she was a talented soul. Halfway up the stairs a knock sounded at the door.

Well, hell.

Sighing, she carefully set the tray on the steps and hurried down to the door. She should probably put on some more clothes, but what was she supposed to do? Yell for them to hang on through the door?

The knock was harder this time.

To hell with it. She was showing a little thigh, but other than that, she was covered--sort of.

Jesslyn opened the door, and leaned against it.

An older couple stood on the threshold.

“I told you this wasn’t the right house,” a large man grumbled to a shorter woman.

“This is the address,” the redheaded woman answered.

“Can I help you?” Jesslyn asked.

“Oh.” They turned to her

Jesslyn cocked a brow and waited, crossing her arms over her chest. Better not to reveal too much.

“See, Kaitie lass, I told you this was the wrong damn house,” the man said on a frustrated sigh. He was tall, taller than Aiden and had the shoulders of a lumberjack. The shadows didn’t allow for her to make out his definite features, but it was hard to miss his white hair, streaked with grey.

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“We’re sorry to disturb you so early. We’re looking for a house,” the woman replied.

She had red hair and stood a bit taller than Jesslyn did.

“And whose house are y’all looking for?” she asked.

“Aiden Kinncaid’s,” the woman answered.

Who were these people?

“I doubt she knows who the hell’s it is, Kaitie, he’s just renting it,” the man growled.

“Jock, will you be quiet?”

Jock? Kaitie? As in Kaitlyn? Oh God.

“You’re um--um. I didn’t get your names.”

It wouldn’t be them. It could
not
be his parents.

“I’m sorry. I’m Kaitlyn Kinncaid and this brute with me is Jock.”

Jesslyn closed her eyes, licked her lips and stepped back.

“This is the right house.”

As they stepped into the entry, she didn’t miss Jock’s shocked gaze as it ran over her.

“Well, if this is the house, then who the hell are you?”

That was a very good question. And her mind went utterly blank.

“Jock, we’ve woken the poor girl up. Leave her be,” Mrs. Kinncaid said.

“Poor girl is about right.” His gaze raked over her again. “My son isn’t going to have to worry about prison is he?”

“Wh--What?” she stuttered.

“How old are you, Missy?” Jock asked, bushy white brows furrowing.

Jesslyn finally found her voice and her brains. “Almost a decade past eighteen, but thank you, Mr. Kinncaid. I’m Jesslyn Black. The owner of the house. I’ll....” She backed towards the stairs. “I’ll just go get Aiden. Please, make yourselves at home. It was nice to meet you.”

At the stairs she stepped over the tray and kept going up to her room.

His parents. Oh, God. And she was only wearing his damn shirt. She’d met his parents practically naked.

Slipping quietly into the room, she ran and pounced on the bed.

Aiden bolted, but she sat astride him.

“Why in the hell didn’t you tell me your parents were coming today?” she said right in his face. His glower did not deter her.

“Or better yet, why not tell me they were coming this morning? I might have put on something other than this.”

His gaze ran over her.

Aiden’s heart slammed against his chest at being jarred awake. Blinking the sleep away, he noticed Jessie looked delectable wearing nothing but his shirt. His heartbeat would never be the same after her waking him up by bouncing him awake, but that was okay too, he liked where she landed.

“What are you talking about? I thought you said you weren’t a morning person?” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down for a kiss, but she planted her hands on his chest and pushed back.

“Will you pay attention?”

He looked at her. Jessie was clearly upset about something.

She leaned down and her cascading hair tickled his face. “You’re parents are downstairs

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sitting in the living room.” She sat straight up, her hair sliding over the silk shoulders of his shirt. “Oh my God. They’re in the living room! Great. Contact me for a tour of Black’s Whore House.”What was with her? His parents? Here? Whore house? “Will you calm down? I knew they were coming yes, just not today. They must have changed their minds and come early.”

She wiggled against him and the sheet didn’t do much to separate her warmth from his groin. Aiden jerked her down across his chest.

“What’s wrong with them being in the living room?” he yawned.

Her brow quirked. “You haven’t seen the living room this morning.” She stacked her hands atop his chest and rested her chin on them. “Do you happen to remember what we did downstairs last night?”

How in the world could he not remember? Like he’d ever forget Jesslyn in garters and hose. “How bad is it?” he ventured.

As red as her face was, the answer was obvious, but he wanted to know what to expect.

“Well, let’s just say, they won’t have to use their imaginations to figure out what went on downstairs. There’s a stocking thrown across a damn lamp!” Her voice rose on the end, mortification clear even to his tired self. Aiden couldn’t hold his chuckle in. To have seen the look on his father’s face.

“Yes, I remember what we did. It’s the same thing we’re fixing to do right now.” Aiden rolled and pinned her beneath him.

“Will you stop and think for five seconds?” she asked him.

He kissed the side of her mouth, his hands slipping beneath his silky shirt she wore. “I am. One.”

“I’m serious.” She wriggled.

“Two.” He licked her earlobe and she shivered against him.

“Aiden.”

“Three.” Her neck was as sweet and tangy as he remembered. He loved the taste of her.

Her sigh filled the air, but she was softening under him.

Aiden propped on his elbows. “What is the problem? You met my parents, so what?”

Her brown eyes rounded. “Practically naked. This was all I had on. Your dad looked at me like I was a gold-digging Jezebel.”

A laugh threatened out, but he managed to halt it. She was actually worried about what his parents thought of her? This was different coming from her.

“Did you not want to meet them?” he asked, fishing, hoping. “I had planned for us to have a nice sit down dinner to get acquainted.”

Her eyes rolled. “Yes, I would love to meet your parents. Or rather, I would have loved to have made a better first impression with a bit more clothing.”

Her look told him she thought he was stupid.

“Does it matter to you what they think?”

She opened her mouth, then smartly shut it. Her eyes held his before skirting away.

Shrugging, she answered him. “I don’t--that is--ah, hell.”

Aiden chuckled. He loved to rile her. “Jessie girl, Jessie girl. You walked right into that one.” Her lips were soft under his as he kissed her. “Don’t worry so much,” he whispered.

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“That’s easy for you to say. The living room needs picking up and I’m not about to traipse back down there to get my garters. Your dad--”

“I’ll take care of Dad. And I’ll go get your dress, but not just yet.” He kissed her hard, letting his hands roam over her warm body. “Right now, not my father, nor the living room, is foremost in my mind.”

There was that one sided grin he loved. “And what is?” she asked, licking her lips.

He claimed her mouth again, showing her who, rather than what, was occupying his thoughts.