Unseen (30 page)

Her own face.

The poker nearly fell from her nerveless fingers and she had to catch herself. Her head buzzed. She realized she was going to faint.

The woman outside rattled the door, pointing angrily for Gemma to open it. The fact that she wasn’t some specter, that she really existed and wanted Gemma to let her in, added an odd normalcy that kept Gemma from passing out.

Wondering if she was opening Pandora’s box, Gemma unlatched the door and stepped back.

And Ani walked through.

They stood in the living room silently, gauging each other. Gemma felt weird, but she thought she’d feel weirder. It was surreal, yet it was the showdown she’d been waiting for.

“Where’s Will?” Gemma asked. “What have you done with him?”

“He’s lying in bed where I left him.” A corner of her mouth lifted. “Tied to the bedposts.”

Her voice…it was slightly deeper than Gemma’s. Smokier. “You kidnapped him.”

“He invited me in. Thought I was you, of course. He was ripping off my clothes before I could introduce myself.”

Gemma wanted to believe she was lying, but she could read Ani clearly. The picture that came to her mind made her slam the door on her thoughts. She couldn’t breathe.

“Put that thing down,” Ani said calmly.

Gemma didn’t hear her. Didn’t respond. She barely noticed that Ani was carrying a small handgun that was hanging at her side, held by loose fingers.

“You killed them all, didn’t you?” She was surprised at how only mildly curious she sounded.

“I had to. I didn’t really get that you were around. It kind of came to me later, like a bolt out of the blue. Was it like that for you?”

“When you called.”

She nodded. “I like Will. I could fall in love with him. I didn’t think I could love someone, but I don’t know…maybe…” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Do you remember our mother?” she asked suddenly.

“No. Our real mother, you mean?” Gemma shook her head.

“She’s crazy. Lives in Deception Bay. A psychic.” Seeing Gemma’s reaction, she said, “You do know her.”

“No, it’s just…my adoptive mother thought she was a psychic.”

“Thought?” She frowned. “Oh, I see. She used you as her conduit. Huh. Maybe she wasn’t as perfect a mother as I thought.”

“She wasn’t perfect,” Gemma responded.

“She wasn’t a child molester, though, was she?”

“No….”

“My adoptive daddy was.”

“Dr. Loman?” Gemma said without thinking.

“You know.”

Gemma gazed at her helplessly. “Only through hypnosis. Only today.”

“I just learned about you today.” She gestured to Gemma’s hip. “We were stuck together and our mother thought we were from the devil. She gave me to Loman and you to our grandmother, I think.”

“Totu.”

“That was her name?”

“It’s what I called her. But she left me on a ferry and I was found and adopted out. I think…” Gemma said, delving back into the deepest recesses of her mind. “I think she wanted to keep with the old ways. Out of step with her family. And I scared them because I could predict things and they would happen.”

“Mind reading.” Ani leaned in close. “And maybe a bit more?”

Gemma gulped. “Maybe,” she said, admitting it to herself for the first time.

There was a sound on the porch and they both whipped around. A woman stood there. In jacket and slacks. She peered through the window at the two of them and her mouth dropped open.

“Detective Gillette,” Gemma realized aloud.

At that moment the detective pushed open the door, gun raised.

As if she’d expected it all along, Ani simply lifted her handgun and shot her.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Wolf kept a window rolled down even though the air felt like it was full of ice crystals. The witch-girl smelled. One day and she already gave off her evil odor. Proof that she needed to be sent back to hell and soon. Tonight.

He drove down the rutted track that led to the bottom of the quarry. Twice he had to get out and remove debris from the road. No one had been down this route in a long time. Good.

As soon as he reached the bottom, he feverishly pulled out all the sticks and the witch’s body. He flung her into the bushes then began building his pyre. There were logs. Many of them, and he had a hatchet to cut them. He worked methodically and quickly and by the time night was drawing its curtain he was satisfied that it was good enough. He would come back when he had Ani. Then he would burn them both, but only one of them would be dead first.

Climbing back in his truck he sniffed the interior. Dead smell, but not as strong. Good. He threw it into gear and headed back up the track. Ani was in Quarry. He knew it.

All he had to do was cruise around for the brown Chrysler and she would be his.

“You shot her,” Gemma gasped.

The detective lay unconscious on the floor, still breathing, but unevenly.

Ani looked stunned herself. “I didn’t think I could do it. But she had a gun.”

“You shot her!” Gemma repeated.

“It’s all right. It’s a .22. Just a little hole. She’ll be fine.”

Ani didn’t sound sure, and in a wild moment Gemma dropped the poker with a clatter and jumped her. “Where’s Will?” she shrieked. “Where’s Will? Did you shoot him, too?”

Ani wasn’t ready for Gemma’s assault. The gun flew from her hand, skittered across the floor. She grabbed Gemma’s hair and Gemma grabbed hers right back. They flung together as one against a wall. A picture turned crazily, the edge of the frame hitting Gemma just above the eye.

Then they were on the ground, rolling, huffing, screaming. Gemma had never fought anyone in her life but she was
furious.
She wanted to strangle her. Shake the truth from her.
Kill
her.

Ani kicked and thrashed and tried to throw a leg over her. Gemma parried with a knee to Ani’s gut. She heard a satisfying, “Ooof!” but then Ani’s hand was at her throat, squeezing till she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get a thread of air.

“Stop,” the detective’s voice rasped.

Surprised, Ani’s grip loosened and Gemma rolled away. Her hand encountered the gun. She scrambled for it as Ani jumped on her again, knocking her flat on her back. But Gemma had the gun. She held it between them as Ani straddled her, pushed it to Ani’s gut.

“Don’t…” Ani said.

They stared at each other, breathing heavily. A trickle of blood ran down Gemma’s face from the wound at her hair-line. Ani stared at her twin. Stared and stared. Slowly she raised her hands in surrender then rose to her feet.

Gemma’s finger was on the trigger. Her hand was shaking like she had the palsy. This woman had killed Edward Letton and Spencer Bereth and God knew how many others. Had let Gemma nearly take the blame for it, whether by accident or design. She was a murderess. Her heart as cold as a snake’s.

Yet…

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t pull the trigger. She
couldn’t
.

As Ani walked out the door Gemma reached for her cell phone, dialed 911, then knelt beside the woman on the floor whose eyes were open and full of pain. She kept her gaze away from the spreading pool of maroon blood.

Will, sweating, worked his thumb down under the rope. He contorted his arm and got a loop nearly over his finger.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…”

And suddenly the hand slipped through as if it had been greased. Hurriedly, he yanked at the other rope, taking twice as much time freeing himself as he should. He was swearing like a truck driver. How long? How long?

An hour. Tops. Since she left. Maybe an hour and ten.

He yanked on a shirt and jacket, grabbed his keys and ran through a bitterly cold evening to his Jeep.

Ani climbed in the Chrysler, lost in memory and emotion and now a feeling of sheer discombobulation. Her mother—their mother—had given them up because they were the devil’s seed, joined at the hip, touched by Satan. The doctor had muttered this story aloud when Ani was very young.

She wanted to lay her head down on a feather pillow and sleep for a millennium. Her mind raced uncomfortably. She didn’t want to think back. Didn’t want to remember. She was half-furious with Gemma that she’d forced her to.

The doctor had surgically separated them. Ani could vaguely remember the scent of some noxious odor. Ether, maybe. She could see the green mask and his eyes. And heard someone screaming. Gemma. Or maybe herself.

Recovery. And the sense of loss. No Gemma, she realized now.

And after all this time they’d been reunited but it was too late. Too late.

She was barely away from Quarry, headed west, toward the coast, though she shouldn’t. They knew her there. They knew her in Seaside and even more so in Deception Bay. She hadn’t been back to the small town where she was born since she’d killed the doctor. She hadn’t wanted any foster homes. She’d wanted freedom.

She felt something on her face and reached up. Wetness. Dragging her hand away, she expected to find blood. She’d been hurt.

But it wasn’t blood. It was tears.

Disturbed, she pulled over at the next pull-out. She left the car running, its lights on, and simply lay her arms over the steering wheel, pressing her forehead into it, squeezing her eyes closed. She had to think, and thinking felt impossible. She hoped to hell she hadn’t seriously injured that woman detective. That wasn’t part of her plan.

Rap, rap.

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of someone tapping on her window. Her heart leapt. A cop?

But she thought the face behind the glass looked familiar. Rolling down the window, she asked, “Bart? What are you doing here?”

A meaty fist slammed into her face and she saw stars.

“I am the wolf,” he growled.

Ani felt herself being dragged from the car. She saw the waiting truck. Ezekiel’s truck? She wanted to ask him why he had his brother’s vehicle but couldn’t form the words.

A gale of wintry wind off the back of the mountains smacked her in the face, clearing her head. He had her by her feet, pulling her hard as sticks and rocks crawled under her jacket and scratched her skin.

Then his face was suddenly in front of hers. Nose to nose. Crazy, hate-filled eyes.

“You killed him!” he roared, nearly deafening her.

She prayed for traffic. Any car. If she could keep him from getting her in his truck someone would eventually come. Someone would see.

As if reading her thoughts, he threw her over his shoulder. She kicked and flailed and he tossed her as if she were a rag doll into the back of the truck, then grabbed her flailing wrists and lashed them together with electrical cord. That caught her attention just long enough for Bart to finish the job and slam the GemTop shut. It was dark, cold, and rank. She sniffed. There was fir and pine but something else. Something human.

Ani scrambled to the back of the GemTop as he threw the truck in gear and lurched forward. Her forehead smacked into metal. The impact, on top of the crushing blow from his fist, sent her down to the bed of the truck. Feebly she tried to twist her wrists against the electrical cords. She saw the depth of Bart’s feelings now. She’d strangled EZ with the lamp’s cord. She’d fooled the authorities but not EZ’s brother. Bart wanted payback. She’d just never felt him mentally capable enough to harbor such resentment. Her mistake. And now she was paying for it.

She tried to reach for the latch to open the back of the truck. She couldn’t find it. If she could just get it down. If she could just open it up.

But they were barreling fast. The movement banged her head up and down. She knew she was going to get sick and she turned her head and retched.

Where was he taking her?

Will drove up the drive to Gemma’s, heedless of water-filled potholes and the waving arms of Scotch broom. He heard branches scrape his paint job. He saw only a mental image of Gemma and her sister.

If he was too late…if it was his fault for getting caught…for not escaping soon enough…for losing his cell phone…

“God, help me,” he bit out through clenched teeth.

He stood on the brakes and slid the Jeep to a shuddering halt. A moment later he heard sirens. Approaching sirens. He waited a half-second then bolted for the front door. Those sirens were coming here. For Gemma!

He practically slammed the door off its hinges, barreling through. To his shock he saw Gemma on the floor, kneeling beside a prone Barbara Gillette, holding a pillow beneath Barb’s head. Gemma looked his way and Barb’s eyes swiveled dully.

“Will!” Gemma cried. Tears sprang to her eyes at the sight of him.

“Your sister did this?” he demanded.

“Ani.”

“Ani? That’s her name?”

Barb’s eyes had closed. White and red lights and the wail of the siren overcame everything. Will touched Barb’s forehead and her mouth twitched. He then looked at Gemma whose white face pronounced her worry.

The EMTs bustled inside. In quick order they lifted Barb onto a gurney and carried her to their van. “It’s just my shoulder,” she said weakly.

“I’ll meet you at the hospital,” Will told her.

She didn’t seem to hear.

“We’ll take good care of her,” a familiar male voice told him as his partner slammed the van’s doors.

Will looked up and met Billy Mendes’s eyes. He nodded. Mendes jumped into the driver’s side and they headed down the lane, sirens
woo-wooing,
lights strobing. Will and Gemma stood in relative silence until the ambulance was well away.

“She found you,” Gemma said. “She went to your house?”

“She knew where I lived.”

“You thought she was me.” Will’s dark eyes gazed deeply into Gemma’s and she added, “She said you made love to each other.”

Will’s jaw worked. “I made love to you,” he rasped.

Gemma nodded, tried not to care. She turned away but he caught her close and held her. She felt the sob that racked her body and she tried to hold it in but couldn’t. She simply cried and let him hold her.

“I didn’t kill anyone,” she said on a sniff. “I told you so.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know it wasn’t you,” he whispered. “I knew something was wrong, but—”

“No, don’t. You couldn’t have known.”

“How did Barb get here?”

Gemma sighed and gave him a blow-by-blow of the events since Ani had left him and come to Gemma’s. “She just came in the door and Ani shot her,” Gemma finished, her voice hiccuping a bit.

“Do you know where Ani was going? What she was doing?”

“She said she thought she was falling in love with you. Maybe she went back to your place to be with you.”

“Maybe.” Reluctantly he released her from his embrace. “I’ve gotta get to the hospital.”

“I’m coming with you.”

He should have argued with her, he supposed, but he didn’t know where Ani was and he didn’t trust Gemma to be safe without him. With a nod, he led the way through the blustery night to his waiting, mud-splattered Cherokee.

Wolf thumped and bumped down the access road to the quarry. He was determined to get there before Ani could free herself from the back of the truck. And each time the wheels flew over some rock or limb he hoped that it caused her pain. He listened hard to hear if she cried or yelped or pleaded but apart from the sound of her body tossing around, she’d been eerily silent.

Witch.

At the base of the quarry he yanked the vehicle to a halt, jamming on the brake for maximum recoil. Her body slammed against the cab and Wolf smiled with satisfaction. But when he threw open the GemTop she was suddenly on him, clawing with hands lashed together. One fingernail hooked onto his eye and scraped.

Blinded, furious, he crushed her shoulders with his big hands and yanked her out, throwing her down like so much trash. She was kicking. Wouldn’t quit. He saw her slim, jean-clad legs and narrow hips and threw himself on her. He would take her here. Fuck her like the whore she was. And then burn her at the stake.

Like he’d done to the mother-witch.

Feeling him upon her she suddenly went limp, her arms over her head. He gazed into her eyes, expecting fear. Instead he saw a glimmering seduction and it surprised and revolted him.

Then her arms came down together and pain exploded in his head. She had a rock and she was beating him. He wrested the rock from her and slammed it against her temple. She went instantly still.

Briefly he worried he’d killed her but when he leaned down, he caught the sounds of her shallow breathing.

After a moment he got up and began adding more limbs to the pyre. Dry ones that he’d pilfered from a woodpile under a shed roof of a home along the highway before he’d found Ani. Easily stolen. Needed to make his pyre grow to over ten feet. Everything was coming together beautifully. As if it had been planned by something bigger than himself. God, maybe.

He was on the right path.

Feeling self-satisfied, he grabbed up the witch-girl’s body from where he’d flung it, wrinkling his nose at the stench. He lashed the body to the pyre with wire that he wrapped around the whole circumference for stabilization.

Then he added more and more wood while the whore who’d killed his brother lay in a crumpled heap on the ground. He thought about taking her right then but somewhere a voice entered his head.

“You’ve done good, Bart,” it said. “Witches have to be burned. You had to kill the mother-witch and now you have to kill Ani. She deserves to die for what she did to me. Burn her, Bartholomew.
Burn her.
Then I’ll have peace.”

The wolf grabbed up armloads of branches, his strength renewed as he feverishly added to the pyre.

The ER waiting room was empty this night. Too early for the Saturday night accidents. Will paced outside the doors to the examining rooms where they were working on Barb. Gemma stood by the windows, staring into the parking lot where lights shined on the painted surfaces of vehicles and left fuzzy pools of illumination on the asphalt.