Undying. V.K. Forrest

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      She nodded. “I don’t really know anything more than she knows,” she said softly after a moment. “I’m not sure what the point of this meeting was.”

      “But you came anyway,” he pointed out.

      She remained quiet.

      Arlan slipped his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Fia was…we were wondering what your connection is. To him,” he said carefully. “How do you know him?”

      “I don’t know him,” she said, her tone prickly.

      He waited.

      “Teddy contacts me sometimes. Tells me things. Awful things,” she half whispered.

      There it was again, that vulnerability he had sensed earlier, so strong now that he could almost taste it on the tip of his tongue. “Teddy?”

      “I’m sure it’s not his real name. It’s what he calls himself.”

      “And how does he contact you?” He took a step closer. He had suggested to Fia that she might be the killer, or at least be involved in the murders, but now that he’d actually seen her, had a chance to sense her being, it didn’t feel that way to him.

      She watched him, but did not move. “Over the Internet. We’ve never spoken.”

      “So…he’s stalking you?”

      “I suppose you could call it that.”

      “Why you?”

      She looked down at the sand, breaking eye contact for the first time since he’d approached her. “I don’t know,” she murmured.

      “And how long has he been contacting you?”

      She shrugged her slender shoulders. “I don’t know. A year or two, maybe.”

      She was lying. Anyone who had a murderer stalking them would know exactly when it started, down to the very date and time. His gaze narrowed. “And you have no idea how or why he chose you?”

      She shook her head, not speaking. She was watching him again, almost beseechingly.

      Arlan wanted to believe her. Logic told him he shouldn’t, but he wanted to. He tried a different tack. “Does he ask you to participate in the murders?”

      She slid her hands into the pockets of her sweatshirt. The wind off the ocean had grown cool. “No.”

      “Does he threaten you?”

      She was slow to answer, as if contemplating the question. “Not really.”

      “I don’t mean to be insensitive, Maggie, but I find this all pretty hard to believe. Men like this…this monster are very purposeful in everything they do. Everything they say. Every decision they make. You’re not telling me the whole truth here.”

      “You calling me a liar?” Her head cocked at the slightest angle.

      “Maybe.”

      Moonlight bathed her nose and lower jaw when her chin jutted forward. “Would you blame me if I was lying? At least about certain details?”

      She had a fair point. If she was telling the truth, if the Buried Alive Killer was contacting her, she should be cautious. And she should certainly be afraid. He took another step closer, hoping to get a better look at her. She smelled good, like a new rain. “Why didn’t you just go to the police? What are you afraid of, Maggie?”

      Her response was incredulous. “He says he’ll kill others. Many. And it will be my fault.”

      He looked over her shoulder to the waves crashing in, the foam sweeping the sand clean and smooth. He remembered the night of the shipwreck. Swimming to shore at Clare Point. A new beginning for him and for the sept.

      Arlan shifted his gaze to her again. She was watching him intently. He took a chance and slowly reached out and pushed her hood down. An abundance of blond hair tumbled down her back, smooth and straight and long, and he remembered another woman’s hair the very same color. Same texture.

      Arlan closed his eyes for a moment and in his head, time shifted and he saw her as clearly as if she were standing in front of him. Lizzy, his sweet, pretty Lizzy. And then he saw the blood.

      Maggie cleared her throat. “Arlan?”

      He opened his eyes. Blinked. The memories were like this sometimes, washing over him with the force of strong ocean waves. He was helpless against them. He could not stop them.

      Maggie was so like Lizzy and yet different. Lizzy had been so confident, so bold and strong and full of life. This young woman before him, she was barely a shadow in comparison. He would not have been surprised if he had reached for her and grasped nothing but air.

      “I’m okay,” Arlan said.

      “You thinking about someone? Someone gone. Dead?” she asked, her voice as light and innocent as a child’s. Almost ethereal.

      He wondered how she knew. Humans were generally so insensitive to feelings. Everything always had to be written, spoken, explained clearly for them to understand. And even then, they didn’t always get it.

      “You want to sit down?” Arlan asked, gesturing toward the water’s edge.

      “No. I’m not going to talk to you about this. I want to talk to Fia.”

      “And she wants to talk to you.”

      “So I guess we’ll both have to wait.”

      Clouds drifted, settling in over the peninsula, blocking most of the moonlight, and the night suddenly grew darker. They both glanced up at the dark sky.

      “Is there a way Fia can contact you?” he asked. “A phone number?”

      “I’ll call her.”

      It was obvious the meeting was over, yet Maggie continued to stand there.

      “You lonely, Arlan?”

      The question stunned him. He wasn’t sure how to respond.

      “Because I am,” she continued. “And what lonely people are best at spotting”—she took a step forward and boldly took his hand in hers—“is other lonely people.” She raised his hand and drew it across her cheek.

      Arlan literally felt his legs go weak. He’d heard a lot of come-ons in his lifetimes. There was no doubt that the ladies liked him, human and otherwise. And he liked them. But he’d sworn off HFs a long time ago. Vampires and humans just didn’t mix well in the sack. It was too risky. He had learned that lesson over a century ago. At least he thought he’d learned….

      “A beautiful woman like you,” he said, trying to lighten the tone of the conversation. “No husband? No boyfriend? Don’t you have family?”

      “I have no one,” she told him quietly and matter-of-fact. “No one to know if I live СКАЧАТЬ