OmegaMine (33 page)

“Holy fucking Christ,” Diskant snarled and Ava felt him
shift slightly, aware through their merging that he was studying the
man—Caden—in an entirely different manner now.

“That’s not all.” She braced herself as she dredged up the
rest, allowing Diskant to see everything. These images weren’t as graphic
because she’d stopped once she’d learned the truth. It wasn’t necessary to
witness the event in its entirety, not when the pieces were already presented
for her to place together. For whatever reason—karma, serendipity or dumb
fucking luck—Moses had been a part of the crew that killed Andrea Stone—Caden
Stone’s wife.

“They never thought he could be a threat, not once they
convinced him a shifter killed his wife. With the evidence they gave him, he
never bothered to question them.”

Pulling away from Diskant, she looked at Caden. He wasn’t
struggling anymore, sitting quiet and still as he listened to their
conversation. He’d been killing shifters for months, vengeance and pain driving
his actions, with little concern for the blood he’d shed. Now he thought about
the people he killed and the memories merged with those of his deceased wife.

If we can get him to see the truth,
she said to
Diskant telepathically.
You’ll be able to gain so much more than I can give
you. He’s been inside their inner circle and knows things I wouldn’t possibly
think to look for.
She hesitated, projecting her intent, revealing just how
vital the man could be in locating Mary, assisting Trey and aiding the pack.
He
could help you.

You won’t be able to convince him, and even if you could
you probably shouldn’t.
Diskant’s response was laden with sympathy and
doubt.
He’s a living dead man, Ava. He eats, he breathes, he exists but he’s
not alive. There is nothing inside him that brings joy or peace. He’s driven by
one purpose and one purpose only—to kill those responsible for ruining his life
and avenge his wife and child. You won’t find a man inside him but a monster.
That’s what he’s become.

What Diskant said was true and it made the weighty ache in
her chest all the worse.

After everything he’s suffered, he deserves a chance. If
he isn’t willing to listen after we offer him what he desires most, you can do
what needs to be done.

Diskant’s fingers pressed into the softness of her hips.
What
are you planning?

This.

She slid from Diskant’s hold and faced the man whose eye was
now swollen shut. Gone from his mind was the need to curse and spit at her, to
lash out at her for who she was, a woman involved with a murdering animal. Now
he was intrigued—cautious but definitely curious, which was a good thing. When
she reached him she pulled the gag from his mouth and stepped back.

“Your wife was a reporter for
The United Herald
,
wasn’t she? That’s how you met. She was investigating a story in Memphis and
your paths crossed.”

“How do you know that?” His question gave her goose bumps,
spoken in a tone so eerie she hesitated for a moment.

“Because I’ve seen what happened to her—what they did to
her,” she answered and folded her arms over her chest. “I know how she died.”

“Don’t listen to anything she says.” Moses broke his
silence, though his words were shaky. “She beds down with the damned willingly
and will say and do anything to protect them.”

The rag in her hand was ripped away and Ava watched as
Diskant walked to the Shepherd, grabbed a handful of hair at the base of his
neck and shoved the cloth soiled with blood and saliva into his mouth.

“If we want your opinion,” Diskant said as he released
Moses’ head with a hard shove, sending his chin into his chest, “we’ll ask for
it.”

“Tell me.” Caden’s featherlight plea tore her eyes away from
Diskant until her focus was entirely on him. The desperation in his face was
heartbreaking, so damn agonizing it hurt to look at him.

“Be sure that’s what you want. Make absolutely certain this
is something you need to see.”

“To see?”

“To see how she died, Caden.”

Ava was forced to sever any connection she shared with the
grieving man at that point. It was too caustic, too overwhelming. Several
emotions flickered across his face—anger, pain, fury—until he gazed up at her,
determination etched in the firm set of his jaw and the glint in his eyes.

“Show me.”

“Bring him closer.” Ava glanced at Moses and indicated the
place beside her.

Diskant stepped behind the chair, grasped the back until it
balanced on two legs and dragged it across the distance. He stopped next to Ava
and let go, waiting for her instructions. She took a deep breath. She had only
attempted what she was about to do once with her mother and father. It hadn’t
been an entirely pleasant experience, and she steeled herself.

“I can’t sever the connection once I start. You’ll have to
make sure I don’t fall,” she whispered to Diskant as she extended her hands—one
to Caden and one to Moses—and closed her eyes.

The moment she made contact with each man, her hands resting
atop their heads, she opened a link between them, delving into their
subconsciouses to access the memories within, sorting through each until she
found the exact moment in time she sought before allowing their minds to merge.

Diskant caught her as she staggered, the horrific images no
less difficult to stomach the second time around. Unlike before she couldn’t
stem the flow of thoughts or refrain from delving too deeply, and was forced to
relieve past events as if she were a participant rather than an observer.
Moses’ hands became her hands, his eyes were those that guided her and his feet
carved the path inside the dark kitchen containing a trapped woman who pleaded
for her life and that of her unborn child.

Moses stared at Andrea as she retreated, his eyes following
her movements inside the room from which there was no escape. The light from
the moon shone through the lone window situated over the sink with flowing,
lacy curtains as she passed. She stumbled over her feet, her protruding belly
keeping her off balance, and fell to the floor.

A shadow appeared on the left, becoming larger until the form
of another man came into Moses’ view. He was clothed from head to toe in black,
his right hand gloved inside a mitt with large, clawlike extensions.

“You should have left when you had the chance.” A man’s
throaty voice reverberated through the kitchen, echoing from behind Moses.

“Please,” Andrea begged, hands clutching her swollen
abdomen. “I’ll leave. I’ll get my things and go. I won’t say anything to
anyone.”

“What about your husband?” the voice taunted. “Do you think
the good detective will walk away without question? Do you expect us to believe
he’s unaware of the hot news story you’ve uncovered?”

“He doesn’t know anything.” Andrea’s words were clogged with
tears. “I never told him anything, I swear.”

“You’d better hope not.” The voice came closer until the man
speaking stood at Moses’ other side. “Or he’ll be visiting you soon.”

Andrea’s eyes widened as she turned from the man speaking
and faced the threat coming from her right. The shadowed figure draped in black
with the clawed hand advanced, one foot front in front of the other.

Moses turned after the first blow landed, ripping through
the softness of her stomach and shielding hands, sending blood splattering
against the ivory-colored counters and cabinets. His nausea rolled through Ava,
Caden and Diskant, his disgust and inability to process the death of an
innocent too difficult to witness.

Moses rushed from the room, trying to block out the screams,
desperate to make it outside. He hit the back door running, taking large
strides toward the brush along the side of the house where he could empty his
stomach. A mixture of vegetable soup and cornbread from dinner littered the
ground as he heaved into the untrimmed foliage. He retched until there was
nothing left to vomit, he was spitting drool and the muscles in his stomach
protested.

By the time the last spasm had passed, leaving him gasping
for breath, the screams from inside the house had stopped.

Murderer.
The word resounded in Moses’ mind. Beating
down on him, clamoring in his ears. Men of god didn’t kill women and children.
Not even if they were a danger to his congregation.

It was a sin.

It was a breaking of the commandments.

Even if he didn’t kill the woman, whose only crime was to
uncover information about his people—unearthing the secret life of Shepherds—he
was equally guilty. He had guided the assassin hired to spill the blood that
wouldn’t touch Shepherd hands but would stain it nonetheless, bringing them to
Andrea Stone’s front door and then standing idly by as the life she was granted
was snuffed, along with the soul who had never been gifted with his or her
first breath.

The sound of the screen door opening and then slamming shut
arrived before the steady crunch of gravel by stomping feet. Closer those steps
came, and closer…

A firm hand grasped the shirt between Moses’ shoulder
blades, forcing him upright, and he gazed into the face of the man he knew only
as Mr. Pink. His appearance was deceptive. He looked every bit the educated and
refined businessman, nothing at all like a vicious killer. His ink-black hair
was smoothed back, his face carefully shaven and his suit immaculately pressed.
Moses caught his terrifying black stare before promptly looking away.

Looking Mr. Pink in the eye was inviting death.

The hand at his back vanished and Moses staggered as he
swiped the pads of his fingers across his mouth. The bitter stench of bile and
stomach acid rose to his nose, causing his stomach to churn once more.

“Get your shit together.” Mr. Pink’s voice didn’t reveal
anything about the man’s mood. “I want you to get in your truck, drive away and
don’t look back. When you make it home tell your boss that the job he hired me
for has been done to his satisfaction. I expect my money to be dropped off at
the agreed upon location before the sun rises.”

Moses stumbled to his truck, parked alongside a glistening
black Camaro, noting the full circular swell of the moon in the antique
vehicle’s surface. He tore his eyes away as he climbed into the GMC that was
equally old but not as well kept. The keys were waiting in the ignition,
jangling together as the cabin shifted to support Moses’ weight.

As he started the motor and pulled away, he glanced into the
rearview mirror. Mr. Pink stood there watching—in the same position Moses had
left him…

The vision vanished and Ava pulled her hands away, severing
the connection.

She would have fallen had Diskant’s arm not kept her steady,
her legs liquid as water.

Damn it.

She wasn’t going to stay conscious for long. It had been too
much and had required energy that she didn’t have. She gasped when Diskant bent
over and swept her into his arms, situating her against his chest. Her lids
flitted down as she fought off drowsiness and shook her head, peering at the
men who had shared the past and now would come to terms with it.

Moses didn’t speak, his head bent so that his chin was
pressed against his chest. The defensive position didn’t hide the tears
streaming down his cheeks or the silent sobs that racked his body. Ava knew
something that she hadn’t shared with Caden, something she’d sensed the moment
she’d first pressed Moses’ mind. The Shepherd was laden with guilt, and had
been even more so since his brethren had convinced the man investigating the
murder of his wife that creatures were responsible for her death. It hadn’t
been difficult. The crime scene was consistent with an animal attack. In an
effort to test Moses’ worth, after gaining Caden’s trust Moses was placed
alongside the man who was a constant reminder of the horrors he’d witnessed, a
virtual demon hovering over his shoulder.

No amount of prayer eased his conscience. Nor did
reassurances that he had done what was necessary.

Moses had hoped when the shifters attacked the vans armed to
destroy them they would inadvertently end his misery, keeping his shame a secret.
Now he knew he would die with the truth revealed, outed as who and what he was.

A murderer.

And murderers, as all Christians knew, burned for an
eternity in hell.

Ava’s lids dipped and she shook her head again. When she
opened her eyes she gazed at Caden. There were no tears. They had all been shed
when he’d come home several days after the murder to find the decomposing body
of his wife on the kitchen floor.

“How can I know you’re telling me the truth?” he asked
quietly. “How can you prove this isn’t just another lie or trick?”

“I can’t.” She struggled to remain awake. “But if you’re
willing to listen you can find out for yourself. No one here means you harm.
They need you as much as you need them.”

“I’m not sure about all that but I’ll listen…for a price.”
Caden’s steely gray eye narrowed as he turned from Ava and studied Moses, who
kept his chin to his chest. There was more than death promised in that stare
and the raw intensity forced her to look away.

“He’s yours,” Diskant said, his voice uncharacteristically
deep and reflective. “The first person to suffer a loss is always the one given
the first option to exact punishment. That’s our law. No one here will dispute
it.”

Identifying the cause of Diskant’s shift in mood, Ava placed
her hand over his heart and thought,
No one can hurt me now. You’re here.
We’re safe. It’s okay now.

And I intend for it to stay that way. I’ll never put you
in harm’s way again. Not for anyone or anything.

Diskant had walked across the room toward the stairs when
Caden’s low growl stopped him. “I want your word. I’ll listen to whatever you
have to say and if the information is solid enough I’ll answer your questions.
But in exchange you hand him over. Once the gloves come off he’s mine to do
with as I please.”