Skye's Trail (4 page)

She was changing. There was an underlying discontent now, a craving that hadn’t been there before.

If she were like other women then she’d say it was her biological clock ticking. But she wasn’t like other women. And it wasn’t the urge to have children that made her restless, it was the urge to take a mate—or rather, two mates.

Skye wondered again about her origins. But she didn’t attempt to search within herself. She’d long since learned that any attempt to explore the dark well of forgotten past sent shards of excruciating pain through her mind.

There were only vague, emotional memories of a happy time spent with a mother and two fathers, followed by the wrenching agony of separation, then later, the driving need to survive.

She’d had a computer hacker retrieve her records from the social services department. But there was nothing that she didn’t already remember—she’d been found in a ghetto of Los Angeles at the age of five, a silent child with no history, no name.

Until she’d discovered the ability to hypnotize and sink into a self-induced state of being
other
, any attempt at speech had caused a sharp skull-piercing pain to rip through her mind.

She could speak now without the threat of pain but she still couldn’t retrieve the memories. It hadn’t mattered for a long time but now she feared that it soon would.

Her body was changing, making demands that her mind argued would be dangerous to her survival.

It had gotten worse since seeing Rico again. And that couldn’t be a good sign.

For either of them.

A city bus passed and disappeared around the corner. A dark blue Yukon with tinted windows trailed behind it. Even out of sight, she could follow the progress of the bus. Its brakes squealed in the early morning air as it rolled to a stop. The engine strained when it accelerated again.

Skye rounded the same corner a few minutes later and had only an instant to take in the scene in front of her and react to it. The blue Yukon was alongside the curb. A man had his arm around a woman’s neck, his hand over her mouth as he pulled her toward the car. She struggled wildly but without effect—he was three times her size, large and well-muscled.

Without hesitation Skye pulled the knife from its sheath on her leg. The man never saw her coming, only felt the sharp, excruciating pain as a blade cut deeply along his rib cage. He bellowed in rage and released the woman.

Skye crouched, completely focused on the man, ready for his charge. He took a step forward then stopped when the woman he’d been trying to abduct began screaming. Panic replaced the anger. He hesitated only a second longer then jumped into the Yukon. Its driver gunned the engine and took off. The car fishtailed around the corner. There was no time to get a license plate number.

The woman stopped screaming but couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the bloody knife in Skye’s hand. Skye slipped it back in its sheath as she said, “You okay?”

The woman nodded but she looked like the next loud noise would send her screaming down the street. “Angry boyfriend?” Skye asked.

“No. I didn’t know him. I didn’t know either of them.”

Skye hated to ask, hated to lose the knife again, hated to think about being hauled into the police station for questioning but she offered anyway. “I live close to here. You can come in and call the cops.”

The woman shook her head. “No. Please. No cops. I’ll tell my boyfriend about it tonight.”

Skye shrugged and felt a sliver of amusement creep in. Maybe for some women telling their boyfriends was enough. It wouldn’t be for her. “Suit yourself.”

When Skye started to walk away, the woman stopped her with a tentative touch on the arm. “Are you Skye Delano?”

Skye studied the woman for a long moment. She was small, petite, delicate, with short black hair and skin so pale it suggested that she didn’t see the daylight very often. “Why do you want to know?”

The woman’s free hand lifted to her necklace in a nervous gesture. “I was going to try and catch you at home. That’s why I took the bus. I need your help. My sister’s missing.”

“And you are?”

“Haley Warren.”

“Let’s go to my apartment. You can tell me about your sister over coffee.”

The woman offered a tentative smile along with a nod of acceptance and they traveled the short distance to Skye’s apartment. There was only one room, with a tiny bathroom carved out of a wall. It was spartan, a place to sleep and eat, but not to live.

“How are you at making coffee?” Skye asked.

Haley smiled. “I’ve been a bartender, waitress, and short-order cook. Does that qualify me to make coffee for you?”

Skye laughed and felt at ease with her unexpected guest. She’d long ago learned to trust her instincts. “That’ll do it. If you don’t mind making some, I’d appreciate it. I’ve been running through the woods all night. I’d like to hit the shower before we talk.”

“No problem. Take your time.”

“Thanks. Coffee beans are in the freezer. Grinder is next to the coffeemaker.” Skye waved her hand in the direction of the kitchen—or what served as the kitchen—a couple of appliances behind an L-shaped counter in one corner of the apartment.

She bypassed the sofa and chair, moved over next to the queen-size bed at the far end of the apartment, snagged some fresh clothes from the dresser before disappearing into the stamp-sized bathroom.

If she’d been alone she would have luxuriated in the hot stream of water then crashed. But those options weren’t available to her now. So she took a quick shower, pulled on her clothes and went out to the couch.

A steaming cup of coffee waited for her on an end table, along with sugar and a small container of half-and-half. “You must have been one hell of a waitress,” Skye said.

Haley’s smile was quick and infectious. “I always made good tips.” Then her smile faltered. “I don’t know what you charge to look for a missing person, probably more than most waitresses can afford. I just want you to know, whatever you charge I can pay it. My boyfriend gives me money whenever I need it.” She nervously touched the pendant on her necklace.

It was old and quite beautiful, the stone in the middle a deep, dark red. For an instant Skye felt pulled toward it—almost like a hypnotist’s medallion. But then the sensation faded.

“Go ahead and tell me about your missing sister.”

“Where do you want me to begin?”

“How long has she been missing?”

“Two months.”

“Did you report it to the police?”

“No.” Haley bit down on her lip. “Kyle, my boyfriend, has been looking for her.” She began twisting the pendant.

Remembering her visitor’s earlier reluctance to call the police, Skye said, “And he doesn’t want you to call the cops?”

“It’s not like they’d do much anyway.” Haley’s voice was defensive. But then something inside her seemed to collapse. “You might as well know all of it. Jen is eighteen. My parents live in Florida. She came out here about four months ago. She was hanging out with a friend, Amy Weldon, some hotshot senator’s daughter. They were doing the club scene. At first I thought, okay, let her get it out of her system. I mean, I was like that when I was her age—fake IDs, hitting the bars, maybe saying yes to guys I should have said no to. It gets old after a while, especially if you don’t have any money. And I knew Jen didn’t have any money. I knew her friend Amy had to be paying for everything. So I thought she’d get tired of it and cut Jen loose.” Haley stopped and looked at Skye for encouragement to continue.

Skye said, “Only she didn’t.”

“No, finally I said something to Jen about it. How could she mooch off her friend like that? She got pissed and said it wasn’t my business but she’d tell me anyway. Amy’s grandfather left her a pile of money and as soon as she turned nineteen she was going to be rolling in it, so Amy didn’t care if she cleaned out her checking account now. She was going to be nineteen in a couple of weeks.”

“Did your parents know Jen was out here?”

Haley looked like she was going to cry. “Yes. But they’re real old-fashioned. I mean,
real
old-fashioned. They read the Bible every night. They go to church more than they go anyplace else. Vegas is Sin City to them. They won’t step foot in it and they don’t want to have anything to do with Jen or me until we repent and come back home on our own.

“I didn’t blame Jen for not wanting to go back. But the more I saw her with Amy, the more worried I got. I thought maybe if Jen went back home, even for a little while, she’d chill out, find a different friend. So I called my parents and begged them to come out here and get her but they just started preaching about hell and damnation and repenting before my soul was lost for good. And then a week later Jen disappeared.”

“And you don’t think she left town?”

“No. She loved Vegas. And she would have told me if she was leaving.”

“Have you talked to the friend?”

“Not since right after Jen disappeared. Amy was totally creepy about it.”

“Why did you worry about Jen and Amy being together?”

“Have you ever been to a nightclub called Fangs?” Haley asked.

“No.”

“Amy and Jen hung out there. It’s for the Goth crowd. You know, Gothic. Vampires. That kind of thing. They were at the club every night. It was okay at first. I mean, that’s the club Kyle and I go to. But then they started to get more and more into the scene. Finally Kyle fixed it so the bouncers wouldn’t let Amy and Jen in anymore. He told me to stay away from them.” Haley was twisting the pendant continuously now. “He’s really protective of me.”

Skye let the last comment pass. “Why did he want you to stay away from them?”

“Because Amy was really, really into the occult. And Jen started getting into it too.”

Chapter Three

The back of Skye’s neck tingled in awareness but the hair didn’t stand up in alarm as it had in the woods. What were the odds of two teenage girls turning up missing in Vegas, both with some link to the occult? For Haley’s sake, Skye hoped Jen didn’t end up in the same condition as Brittany Armstrong.

Skye rose from the couch and retrieved the photo of Brittany from the jeans she’d left in the bathroom. When she handed the photo to Haley, she asked, “Does this girl look familiar?”

Haley worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she concentrated on the picture. “Sort of.” She gave an apologetic shrug and returned the photo. “So many of the kids that come to Fangs look like that. I’m sorry. I can’t be sure. Why?”

Now it was Skye’s turn to shrug. “Another missing kid.”

“I’m sorry I can’t help.”

“Do you know where Jen and Amy were living?”

“No. They always came to the club.”

“What about other clubs? Any favorites?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you have a picture of your sister?”

“Yes.” Once again Haley’s hand reached up and covered the pendant. “But I don’t have it with me. I…I only just decided to try and find you. I didn’t want to go back and get it.”

“I’ll need a photograph of Jen before I can do much to help you.”

“I’ll get you one.” Haley twisted the necklace. “I’d better go. You can find me at the club. At Fangs. Kyle and I are there every night. He doesn’t know about this. About me coming here. Please don’t say anything in front of him.”