Heart of the Witch (21 page)

"I want to find him," Nick began. "I wish I'd done it in time to save Sorina, but I didn't." His eyes became hard. "I have to get him before he kills someone else. I
will
get him."

"I should have done more," Ravyn murmured. "But I…" She trailed off and shook her head.

"You're holding something back." Nick's voice held curiosity, but she didn't detect accusation.

"No. I just… Maybe I could have told them more. But those cops who interviewed me…" She shuddered. "That
one
. He had mean eyes." She didn't tell Nick what she'd felt when she shook Detective Harris's hand, because she knew he wouldn't believe her. "I just knew I couldn't trust him."

"Scott Harris," Nick said.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"I know he and Carlos are on the case. I once worked with Harris. Let's just say I know him well."

Ravyn nodded, hardly processing his words. "I didn't think they would find him, anyway. And I thought he would stop after…" She had been about to tell Nick what she'd done. How could she have explained that? "After I got away, I figured he'd stop because he'd be afraid I'd identify him." She gave a short laugh, but it tore at her throat and almost turned into tears. But she wouldn't cry again. No way would she cry again.

"Then he murdered my sister. While I lay sleeping, unaware, she was…" She shuddered and looked at Nick, sure her torment must show in her eyes. "How do you think that makes me feel?"

Nick sighed. "Guilt does you no good. You have to do the best you can to move forward. We need to stop this maniac. That's all we can do."

"We?"

"I need your help. You saw him. I want you to get with a sketch artist and give him all the details you can recall."

"I already did. With those detectives," she reminded him.

"I want a picture for
us
to use. Maybe without the beard. It could have been a disguise, or he could have shaved since then. We can use the new sketch and the one from the paper."

"No," Ravyn said after a moment.

Nick looked shocked. "You won't help me?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean, I'll help you. But not just by talking to a sketch artist. I want to help with the investigation. Every step of the way."

Nick shook his head. "I'm sorry. I work alone. You have no idea what's involved. I need all the information you can give me, but that's where your part ends. There's really not any more you can do."

"There
is
more I can do," she vowed. She had to tell him, at least part of the truth. Otherwise, there was no way he'd let her help. "I have a gift. A psychic gift."

He laughed. "A what?"

"I get… impressions. I know you don't believe me, but I can prove it."

He sat back and folded his arms across his chest, giving her a smug grin. "Is that right?"

She wanted to wipe the smirk off his face. Her fingers itched to do just that. But she would only show him her psychic powers, not any other.

She stood and moved in front of Nick. "Stand up."

He shrugged and stood, the look on his face saying he was humoring her. She took his arms, pulling them away from his body. She placed a hand over his chest while she looked up into his eyes. The blue in them darkened, and beneath her palm she felt his heart speed up. He swallowed loudly but didn't speak.

"Your wife died"—Ravyn closed her eyes as images swept through her brain—"of cancer. She's been gone for quite a few years. Maybe four… no, five."

He stiffened and his heart beat even faster. She felt something then, and her eyes flew open. Looking up at him, she saw him blink. He stared at her as if she held the key to his destruction. His eyes were bright with unshed tears that made the blue in them look like the sea just before a storm.

Her voice was barely above a whisper as she said, "It wasn't your fault. She would have died anyway. It wouldn't have mattered if you'd been there."

He gripped her hand and pulled it away from his chest. "What the hell are you doing? How do you know… ?"

His fingers were hurting hers, but she didn't pull away. "I told you how. Let me help you. I have to help you."

He shook his head but looked like he wanted to shake
her
. Finally, he sighed and released her hand. Pulling out his wallet, he retrieved a business card that he dropped onto the coffee table. "Be at my office Monday morning. I'll have a sketch artist there, and we'll get started."

Ravyn sighed and nodded.

Nick stared at her a moment longer, then left without another word.

That night, Ravyn took Sorina's ashes and drove to Vanora's. Once again she stood in a circle with the other coven members in the woods at the back of the property. Her mother was there, but Ravyn ignored her.

This time, Ravyn wore a thick robe that almost kept the wind from biting into her flesh—almost, but not quite. The coven members were somber as Ravyn offered her sister's ashes to nature, and they all watched them float away on the wind. The only sound was that of Gwendyl weeping, but Ravyn saw Vanora wiping away tears.

Holding hands once again with Elsbeth and Adalardo, Ravyn stared into the candles flickering on the altar in the center of the ritual circle. The low murmur of voices rose around her as individual prayers were offered up for Sorina's soul.

Ravyn's heart palpitated with grief, loneliness deep and dull inside her chest, but she couldn't cry. She'd given all the tears she had. Mesmerized by the lull of the voices and the flicker of the candlelight, she let her eyes drift shut.

Then she saw
them
. Images came and went in the darkness of her mind's eye: Sorina in her white gown. Outside Ravyn's house. She was calling for Arthur. There was a man walking boldly up behind—

No
! Ravyn screamed in her brain, but the image didn't change. Sorina's head snapped back as the man's hand covered her mouth and pulled her flush against his chest. A white cloth fluttered from between his fingertips and her sister's lips. Sorina went limp—

Ravyn's eyes snapped open and sobs tore at her chest. But they didn't escape. Dully, she stared at the flames of the candles, her mind screaming with the images of her sister. And not just images, she knew, but a replay of her sister's final moments.

Ravyn looked out over the water from her perch on the large flat rock and watched a pontoon boat glide by. She thought about Sorina, about the man who'd killed her sister.

She heard a noise and turned to see Nick approaching. She watched him until he stood directly in front of her, noting he wore his standard attire of Levi's and T-shirt, this time a blue one. She also noted, reluctantly, that he looked good.

She put a hand over her eyes to shade them and looked up at him.

"Hello," he said. "How are you?"

"I'm okay." She shrugged.

His gaze took in her outfit—jean shorts and a red tank top. "Warm day for almost the end of October. Especially after as cold as it's been the past few weeks."

"Yes," she agreed. "Wasn't it Will Rogers who said if you don't like the weather in Oklahoma, just wait a minute, it'll change?"

Nick smiled. "Something like that." The smile faded and he said, "Look, I came by to apologize."

"Apologize for what?"

"The way I acted after you shared your… intuition. I was just a little…" He shrugged and looked away as if searching for the right word. He turned back to her. "I guess I was caught a little off guard."

"I understand. No problem." She scooted to make room for him. "Want to sit?"

Nick dropped down next to her. "It's nice out here."

"Yeah. I come out here when I want to think. It soothes me." A canopy of trees flanked one side of the rock, making Ravyn feel secluded, secure.

"I can see why." He fell silent, and at that moment a boat sped by on the water, the roar of the motor making speech impossible. When the noise receded, Nick looked up at her. "I'd like to ask you some questions before we get started on the case. Things I've wondered about."

Her heart sped up a few beats, and a knot settled at the base of her throat. She drew a deep breath, smelling a hint of rain in the air and the scent of someone grilling meat. "What questions?"

"I talked to the boys who found you. They said a scream brought them to the cabin."

Ravyn nodded. So far, nothing threatening. But before he spoke again, it hit her: she hadn't screamed. She knew what he was going to say next.

"They said it was a man. They heard a man screaming, not a woman." He peered at her, his expression curious.

Ravyn shifted on the rock, tugging at the hem of her cutoffs, even though they were a modest length. She felt exposed, vulnerable. She swallowed, her mind searching for an explanation Nick would buy. She had nothing.

"I have no idea why they'd say that. My voice was hoarse from the drugs, the gag… Maybe they thought my scream sounded like a man's."

His eyes moved from her out to the water, then back. "Maybe that's it," he said. But he didn't sound convinced.

"Anything else?" she asked, hoping like hell there wasn't.

There was.

"I just can't get past the fact that he let you go. Did anything else happen that you haven't told the police about? I mean, dislodging the gag, screaming. Doesn't sound like enough to scare off our man. That would just excite him, make him want to finish you off more quickly."

Ravyn lifted the hair off her neck, blaming the muggy day for the layer of perspiration on her skin. But she knew it was more than that. Nick's questions were making her nervous because he was on the right track. How much would he pry out of her?

"I can't say for sure. I don't know exactly why I was spared. I wondered about it myself. Maybe he heard the boys crashing through the trees, and that scared him." She broke off, suddenly tired of the questions and suspicion, tired of not being able to be truthful. "Look, I've told you everything I can. I agreed to meet with a sketch artist and help you find him. I don't know what else you want me to say."

Nick stood. His eyes were sad. "That's it. Just wanted to clear up a few things. And apologize," he added as an afterthought. "I'll see you in my office tomorrow morning, right?"

Ravyn nodded, a trickle of apprehension running across her skin. This was going to be difficult. He made her want to confess everything, but she knew that was impossible. How could she work with Nick and find the monster without his discovering what she really was?

She didn't know, but after what had happened to Sorina, she had to take the chance.

Nick's office was in a grayish building badly in need of a paint job. Weeds grew in what looked like it should have been a flower garden beneath a window next to the entrance.

Ravyn opened the door and stepped into a receptionist area with a desk that held a phone and a computer. No photos, papers or pens—there was nothing else of secretarial use. She guessed Nick didn't employ a receptionist. The room smelled faintly of stale cigarette smoke and fresh coffee.

A hallway led off the lobby, but when she stepped to the opening she saw two closed doors. She had no idea which room belonged to Nick.