Brock.
Who was left?
Haley’s mind
searched.
If it was
someone she knew, there were only two possible areas connected with this case
that hadn’t been completely examined. Either the killer was still somehow
sprouting from the dastardly Cyrus / Edmond Rance chain, or perhaps even worse
… they had once worked for the paranormal police. And the killer and the
traitor were one and the same person.
And if that
was the case, then who could it actually be?
Who did she
know that fit all the criteria?
Haley closed
her eyes. Her mind was becoming drowned. She was forgetting his answers to the
questions. Forgetting the questions themselves. If only she had the time to go
over each individual suspect, however unlikely, and see who could be eliminated
… and who fit the profile.
Assuming the
killer had been truthful.
Assuming the
killer could keep his word.
Haley lashed
out angrily, punching the seat in front of her. She couldn’t take it anymore.
She couldn’t take not knowing. This whole time it seemed Brock was pulling the
strings, but – what if he wasn’t? What if all these years she’d been living in
fear for nothing? How could – how could he ever understand…?
But no, she
did not seek Brock’s forgiveness. He had broken his bond with her.
Somewhere,
somehow, there had been a disconnect. He had been consumed by his newfound
powers and was no longer available in the emotional sense that he once was.
Haley couldn’t think about it. She couldn’t see straight. Even though…
The answers
were right in front of her.
Lights were
flashing now. The pilot’s voice carried across the intercom. They were approaching
the landing strip.
Haley held on
tightly, drifting in and out of her thoughts.
Waiting for
it to click.
Waiting for
it to come together.
The simple,
elusive solution.
It would
come.
It had to.
Haley hoped
it would not be too late.
CHAPTER
TEN
There was a knock at the Count’s
door. The new Count, Brock Ferns that is.
The servant
trembled in the light of the doorway, almost afraid to speak.
“What is it?”
Brock asked shattering the silence.
“The pilot
just radioed in,” the servant said. “Madame Haley has reached her destination.”
“Good…” Brock
purred. “Have another chopper come to collect me. I am almost ready to leave.”
“Will do,
sir.”
The servant
exited.
Brock turned
back to his phone conversation. “You were saying?”
“Luna Evans
and her investigation team are dealing with the matter privately. I can’t get
any closer to them without raising suspicion.”
“What about
the others?”
“We’re all
supposed to be driving around, searching the area. Nadine thinks the Count is
still about somewhere.”
“I want
updates as they come in. Keep texting them to me. And stay with the others.”
Brock ended
the call.
He remained
seated in his armchair, poised with concern. While news of the dark occasion
would no doubt have traveled to many a crooked place in the world of vampires,
he still had not anticipated the old Count’s return. It was Brock who had
stolen from him – his league of servants, his alliance with the vampire
community, his coffer of riches. Brock also knew the Count was infatuated with
Haley, seeing her as one of his most prized possessions. Yet despite the great
history between them, after all these years the Count’s return came as a bit of
a shock.
Brock
wondered if he should phone ahead, check on proceedings. Make sure Haley was
being treated … reasonably. As Brock had spies throughout the world, no doubt
the Count did as well. All it would take was one more traitor going over to the
higher vampire’s side for things to come undone.
The night was
drifting further and further away from them.
Brock
pondered whether his place was beside Haley, or if he should set upon joining
the hunt for this monster, before the monster came to him.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
There was a red carpet waiting for
Haley upon her