God's Eye (13 page)

She felt the thick tongue rasp at her skin, her cheek recoiling from the touch even though the other side of her face was pressed firmly against the wall. Her breath escaped her in a final bid to flee the death that was coming.

But it didn’t come.

Katharine waited.

Her body took over, lungs heaving great breaths of air. Her eyes stayed squeezed tightly shut. The wall behind her pressed into her flesh where she tried to absorb into it but failed. The presence of the beast remained at her side. In a way she could only hope to achieve, it remained perfectly motionless.

Finally, she let her eyes slide slowly open. She was tired of waiting for her death, at last ready to make a small stand and look directly into its green eyes. With one last breath of oxygen, she turned her head, opening her eyes as she went.

It watched her, head cocked to the side like a puppy, a questioning look in its eyes.

Before Katharine could assimilate the expression, the beast sank quickly into the floor, leaving only a pile of soot where it had stood. Katharine still couldn’t breathe.

•  •  •

Though it was the middle of the night, Katharine called to leave a message for Allistair at the office, hoping he would get it in the morning. She wasn’t completely certain why he was the one she felt compelled to call, but he was. In the past she would have notified Lisa, but for some reason it didn’t sit well with her that Allistair would learn about her absence through someone else.

His voicemail picked up on the third ring, the timbre and cadence of his words soothing even on the recording. In spite of the comforting sound of his voice, loneliness folded itself around her, and she jumped at even the tiniest noises, though they were perfectly normal in the night.

Katharine was no longer normal. She clutched the long kitchen knife tightly in one hand, the phone in the other, and fought to make her voice sound merely tired rather than butchered.

“Hi, Allistair. Listen, I’m not feeling well. I think I’m going to sleep in; maybe I’ve got that stomach bug you had yesterday. I’ll be late.”

She didn’t know what else to tell him, and was shocked that she desperately wanted to tell him that she needed sleep because of the hellhound that had visited the night before. She brandished the knife against another phantom noise and fought for something else to say. “I’ll call you if I’m not going to make it in at all. Please let Lisa know. Thanks.”

Out of words, she hung up.

Every light in the place was on. Her blanket and pillow were draped across the couch. The knife stayed tight in her grasp. As though any of those things was a match against what had been visiting her. Though they were small comforts, and false ones, they were comforts. She clung to them like they were worthwhile. Sinking into the couch, she picked up the remote and turned on the TV. The woman on the screen urged her to call in and purchase gaudy crystal jewelry. Katharine didn’t change the channel.

Sliding down into the only kind of security she could find, Katharine pulled the covers tighter and fought for sleep amidst the noise and light that was her imaginary salvation. It was a long time coming.

Several hours later, Katharine woke in fits and starts. She’d been dreaming of the hellhound, but even in the dream she had known it wasn’t real. In the dream, she’d been able to examine the beast without the cold terror of knowing she was going to die. In the dream, her fear had been something ethereal rather than the tangible hand around her heart she had suffered during the night. But the dream hadn’t changed anything. It hadn’t changed the fact that she was on her couch, her back pressed into the upholstery, the couch itself pressed against the wall. The knife was still firmly in her grip, her need for defense following her even into her sleep. And when she got up and forced herself to go into her bedroom, there was still a pile of soot so close to the bed that the dust ruffle was smudged with black.

Katharine stepped over it, unable to clean it or even think about it, focused entirely on getting dressed without passing out from thinking something had come up behind her. She was buttoning her shirt when her cell phone rang, the shrill tones nearly scaring her out of her skin.

After a few moments she got it together enough to answer without sounding like she’d just finished the Boston Marathon. Picking up the phone, she smiled at the ID. She sighed his name. “Zachary.”

“Hey, baby, where are you?” It was a whisper that reached into her and made her feel safe. Almost beyond her control, her knees threatened to give way and her heart settled into a steady rhythm. His voice sank into her like old wine. “I called the office, but I’ve been getting voicemail all morning.”

She almost lied. Almost said she’d been at the library doing research, that her cell had been off too. But something inside her clenched at the thought of lying to him. Her tongue spoke the truth. “I stayed home this morning. I’m only heading in now.”

“It’s eleven thirty.” He seemed shocked by the time. Then again, probably everyone at the office was wondering if she had the Ebola virus. Katharine was never absent. She liked that Zachary seemed to know that about her even though she’d never said it. “You aren’t ill?”

She opted for a combination of lie and truth. Since she’d already told the office that she thought she had a stomach bug, she went with that, just a little. “Not anymore. I had a really bad night last night. I wasn’t going to be of any use to anyone until I got a little sleep.” Ultimately a little was all she had gotten. But it would have to do.

“Were you sick?” His concern ran deep in her, as did the same clenching feeling that she shouldn’t lie to him. But this time she did anyway.

“Maybe. I had a really bad dream; it kept me up half the night.”

“Bad dream, huh?” He seemed to be mulling it over. Something in his voice made her wonder if he’d heard the lie. She was truly a bad liar. But what reason would he have to suspect anything other than what she said? She was a great girlfriend. Other than a few wayward thoughts here and there, she didn’t want anything to do with anyone other than him. The only reasonable thing she could be covering up would be another man. And it wasn’t that. It was just that what she
was
covering up wasn’t reasonable.

She couldn’t tell if he was trying to catch her in a fib or just trying to be helpful. But he offered to come over that night, and insinuated that he could help her sleep better. Katharine laughed and accepted. He would help her sleep better, but probably not the way he was intending. His presence alone would allow her to rest.

The thought pressed into her mind that maybe he could stay all night. That way the thing likely wouldn’t come; Katharine had developed the creepy idea that it wanted her. After all, it hadn’t presented itself on any of the nights when Zachary had been here. And if it did get brave and show its face again, Zachary would see it. Then she would know she wasn’t crazy.

She told him she couldn’t wait to see him, but that she would have to work late to make up for missing the morning. She’d come knock on his door when she got home. She then hung up before he could say anything else.

Katharine thought it might be the first time she’d ever taken charge with a man.

A sense of the inevitable settled over her as she finished dressing and did her hair. She couldn’t call it peace, but the tension that had held her tight enough to snap under her own stress had ebbed away during Zachary’s call. She was in a better a state by the time she went down to her car. She hit the drive-through window at a fast-food restaurant on the way into work and brushed the crumbs from her skirt as she stepped out of the car.

She faced her coworkers in the hallways as they headed out to lunch. She could tell a few were disbelieving that she was coming in so late. Others had perhaps assumed she was just coming back from lunch. Katharine didn’t say anything.

She picked up her messages from Lisa and entered her office, where Allistair stood up to greet her. He came around from behind his desk and planted himself directly in front of her. Deep dark eyes looked her up and down, slowly assessing. She wondered what he saw.

His voice slid over her like honey, setting off a flare of heat she hadn’t expected. “You look good.” His finger came up and her breath caught as he traced her cheekbone. “But you look tired. Rough night?”

At least that was a question she could answer honestly. “Yes. I needed more sleep or I wouldn’t be good for anyone.”

He nodded, his eyes cast down. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” But she understood the words even as her mouth asked. What she didn’t understand was why he was sorry. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I thought you might have had a touch of my stomach flu from yesterday.” Too late, she remembered the lie she had spun, standing at her counter with the kitchen knife clutched in her fist. It had been a good lie, but she hadn’t remembered it when it counted, had she? “Maybe, but I don’t see how it’s your fault. It wasn’t like we were kissing or anything.”

The sudden flash of heat in his eyes was unmistakable. Her body answered back by dropping the bottom out of her stomach and making her insides flutter. But he hadn’t said or done anything. Though she wanted to, she couldn’t respond to something unsaid or ungestured. As quickly as it had come, it was gone, and Allistair turned away, saying he was glad she was feeling better.

He pulled a stack of files from beside his computer, turned back to her, and followed her around behind her own desk. He was now definitely in her personal space. Did it mean anything? She flicked a glance at his face, but he was all business, the fire of a moment ago entirely gone. His voice was steady and even as he told her about what he’d found that morning. Katharine was forced to turn from her wayward thoughts and try to concentrate.

Stopping himself mid-sentence, Allistair then went to close the door, saying he’d found something important. Something that even Lisa shouldn’t overhear. Katharine waited, intrigued.

Though the door was closed, he came back to stand behind her desk, right beside her. She fought the frisson of energy that shot through her at his nearness. Just that one look and she was turning to jelly around him. What was wrong with her these days?

His voice again broke into her thoughts. “I found only one person who looks like they’re embezzling funds from the company.”

Katharine waited.

“It’s entirely possible that there’s an alternate explanation, because I can’t figure out
how
she’s doing it. Also, a really good embezzler wouldn’t show off what they’d stolen. She’s hardly doing that, but she is living well above her means with no visible other income.”

Katharine’s heart sank.

He handed over a thick file on Mary Wayne. “She’s in payroll, so she has access to everything she needs to get the job done. She also got a more thorough security check because of the payroll job, so we know a little more about her than some of the other employees. I don’t know if you know her–”

The touch of Katharine’s hand stilled his tongue, or maybe it was her slumped shoulders. “I hired her when I was in HR, then I trained her for her current position.”

Bending at the knees, Allistair lowered himself until he squatted beside her chair, his gaze searching her face until she finally looked at him. “You like her.”

“I did,” Katharine admitted.

“It isn’t your fault.” His hand settled on her bare forearm, the skin-to-skin contact at once both very casual and far too personal. Heat flowed from him into her. And with it came the belief that maybe it wasn’t her fault. It was the first time she had admitted that she truly felt responsible. She had hired Mary Wayne, over a few other choice candidates. She had liked the woman personally. Although they had never been friends–Katharine knew it wasn’t proper to allow herself to be friends with an employee–she had thought she understood Mary Wayne.

She had clearly been wrong. Two separate searches had brought Mary to the forefront of the investigation.

Allistair had been watching the thoughts cross her face, and Katharine decided it was past time that she packed up her personal concerns; she could take them out later in a personal space. His hand slid across her skin as he removed it from her arm, the touch electrifying even though it had been accidental.

His voice only added to the rush of heat in her. The heat was followed quickly by confusion. How was this man affecting her so much? She seemed to have a schoolgirl’s crush on him–the way he just looked at her and she felt it to her toes. But the feelings were far hotter than anything she had known as a teenager. There was something magnetic about him, and he was in her office leaning over her desk, his voice a brush of hot sweet air against her ear. She was helpless in his gravitational pull.

She pushed the words she needed past her lips in an effort to appear as though he wasn’t having any effect on her at all. “What do you recommend we do?”

He sighed and something low in her melted. Katharine fought to ignore it.

“I think we should keep looking through our files, see if we can find where the money is going, or how it got out in the first place. And I think we should hire a private investigator and have Mary Wayne followed.”

“A PI?”

“I assume she’s the same suspect that you came up with. That’s why you haven’t mentioned anyone else. It would explain the look on your face.”

Katharine nodded. “She’s also the same suspect that my father and Toran Light came up with.”

“Then I would guess that you checked for extra bank accounts that were linked through Light & Geryon but held by Miss Wayne.”

Again Katharine nodded.

“You checked around to see if she had a boyfriend or renter or someone else on the mortgage to that house she shouldn’t be able to afford?”

“All that, and, as best we can tell, there haven’t been any deaths in her family to give her an inheritance, nor did she win the lotto.”

“Yeah.” He ran his hand through his dark hair in a thoroughly masculine gesture. Katharine wished she hadn’t noticed. “I looked for those, too. But a professional is going to have much better access to her personal information than we do. And that way, if she catches someone following her, she won’t come up to the car and say, ‘Miss Geryon, what are you doing sitting outside my house at night?’”