He wanted to wrap her up in the protection of his arms and take her for all time away from this place of death and misery. He wanted to erase every painful memory from her heart and mind. Jaxon said nothing at all. When others murmured things to her, she barely seemed to register that they had done so. She concentrated totally on the crime scene, careful not to miss the smallest detail. She went from room to room, a mask of professional detachment on her face, pale yet composed. Jaxon, the consummate cop and protector of people. His Jaxon.
He could read the thoughts of those around him, pick up the various conversations in every room, the halls, and even outside. Jaxon had the same ability now. She knew which of her colleagues feared to speak with her, which ones worried for their own families, which ones thought her a robot without emotion. It went on and on, the bombardment of sympathy and blame, blood, and death, from apartment to apartment.
The memories. Shelby Snyder baking her a birthday cake and bringing it over. Tom fixing her sink and banging his head, water spraying over his face as Shelby and Jaxon laughed at him. He took it good-naturedly, as he always did. Night after night with Sid, talking poetry because she couldn’t sleep and neither could he. She had been so careful, never appearing in public with any of them, even sneaking into Sid’s apartment at prearranged times. She had told Sid Anderson about her background.
He was the kind of man who inspired confidence. Sid’s death was a terrible blow to her.
Lucian watched it all, felt her strength, her resolve, the weight of responsibility so heavy on her shoulders. His admiration for her grew. Her brain analyzed every piece of data. She didn’t shirk from the grisly results of Drake’s madness; these victims had been her friends, which made her all the more determined to catch him. She was physically ill, her stomach in knots, her head pounding, and he heard her screaming in her mind, yet her face was calm, and she never once turned away from examining the gory scenes.
Daryl Smith followed her over to Lucian as she moved out of the last apartment, removing another set of gloves. “So, what do you think, Jaxx?”
“He hit Mrs. Kramer first. He was waiting for her when she came in from shopping. The groceries are still sitting on her table. She always put her groceries away immediately. He entered through her bedroom window. It was locked, but Drake had no problem with it. He used his knife on her. It’s his favorite weapon, up close and personal. I counted eighteen deep stab wounds and several shallower wounds. He took her eyes before he left. His standard trademark.” She frowned. “It was him... but not exactly.”
“What does that mean?” the captain asked.
Lucian was in her mind, and he felt her puzzlement. “I can’t tell you exactly, but he’s different. Still, it was definitely Drake. I think he went to Carla and Robert’s apartment next and found they weren’t home. Angry, he slashed up their bed in a killing rage. From Carla’s apartment he went to Tom and Shelby’s. He caught them in the shower together. He stabbed Tom fifty-eight times and Shelby at least eighty. There’s a lump on Shelby’s head. He probably hit her and knocked her out as he was killing Tom. His rage increased as he murdered them. I can tell because the stab wounds they received after they died are deeper and more savage. I believe the medical examiner will agree with me on that. He took their eyes and he carved up their bedroom. Clothes, blankets, mattress, even the carpet. He entered their apartment through the rear door. They hadn’t locked it. It looks as if he just walked right in with no problem.”
Jaxon suddenly reached out to Lucian, the first public gesture she had made toward him. She was exhausted without hesitation his fingers laced, warm and solid, through hers. And he was right. She didn’t feel alone anymore.
I am responsible for so many deaths, Lucian. I feel as if my soul is black . You are not responsible. Hear me when I say this, Jaxon. Tyler Drake murders people because he is a sick man, not because of you. If it was not you he had fixated on, it would be another.
Her mouth curved in a semblance of a smile that never had a chance of reaching her eyes.
You’re sure of that? You don’t know what it’s like to know that people you care about are dead because the only crime they committed was being your neighbor. Lucian, I don’t want this to touch you . I have been judge and executioner for nearly two thousand years. I have destroyed so many I cannot count that high, nor would I want to. I am a predator, honey.
You
are a sweet, compassionate angel. A miracle. My miracle . Thank you.
She said it simply, meaning it.
I love you, angel,
Lucian said in his black-velvet sorcerer’s voice, and
he
meant it.
A ghost of a smile touched her mouth before she resumed her assessment for her boss. “Drake went to kill Sid after that. There’s a smear of blood in the hall beside Sid’s door. I’ll be willing to bet it’s Shelby’s. Blood never bothers Drake. Sid answered the door. He never looked through the peephole, although I cautioned him numerous times. He was a wonderful man. He trusted everyone. He played with children in the park, taught them chess, spent half his monthly check on food for the kids in the neighborhood. He gave them things to do and a place to go when their parents weren’t home or when there was trouble. He didn’t deserve what Drake did to him.”
Lucian felt her falter then. She crumbled inside, her silent screams louder than ever. On the outside she appeared calm, but she was sick, fighting back the nausea gripping her. Immediately he wrapped his arms around her, turning her against his chest. His heart matched the exact rhythm of hers.
You are not alone, never alone. Drake can never separate us. You can reach for me over time and space, and I will be with you . I can’t bear this. Sid was so sweet. You would’ve liked him. Tom and Shelby were nice people. They had no children, and they treated me like a daughter. Their only sin was that they liked me. And you met Mrs. Kramer. There was no one nicer. This is all because of me. If I hadn’t gone to your house, let them publish our engagement in the newspapers, Drake wouldn’t have done this. Drake is totally responsible, honey, not you.
He was patient, repeating it over and over, wanting his words to sink in.
He’ll get to you. He will. You and Barry.
She stiffened, her eyes suddenly wide with terror. “He’s going after Barry, Captain. Drake will do it—I know he will. He’ll access your computers, torture someone, I don’t know how, but he’s going to go after Barry. Drake’s different now. I can’t explain it—I just feel it. Something’s wrong with all of this. In the past he always killed because he perceived others as a threat to his family. This was rage. This was because he
wanted
to kill. Part of him was Drake, because he performed like Drake, he took their eyes, but he wasn’t exactly the same. He doesn’t kill with this kind of rage. He’s different.” She shook her head. “I have to get to Barry. He isn’t safe.”
“No one knows where we stashed Radcliff,” Daryl protested. “I want you to go to the station and write up your report. Every detail. We need it, Jaxx.”
“Someone knows where he is. There’s a paper trail. There’s always a paper trail. You think he can’t find Barry? It’s what he does. I’m going to him.” She was absolutely firm.
“He can’t find him,” the captain reiterated.
“I could find Barry,” Jaxon said confidently. “Lucian, we have to protect him.”
“You go back to the station, Jaxon,” Lucian said softly, his voice as mild as ever. That voice that no one could ever resist. “I will go with Captain Smith to get Barry and bring him to safety. Antonio will go, also, so there is no need to worry about protecting me. I will keep him safe, Jaxon.” The black-velvet voice was gentle. “You will be safe at the station, and I will concentrate on picking up Drake’s trail.”