Prince of Shadows by Susan Krinard

“He’s—” She broke off, tearing at a fingernail with her teeth.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” he said gently. “You’re frightened of something. What is it? How can I help?”

“Get me to Falkirk. Away from—Just get me back.”

“But you know Kieran, don’t you? Were you with him?”

She froze like a rabbit in a snare and stared at him. “I knew him. I—”

“If he’s done something to hurt you—”

“Please!” She covered her ears with her hands. “Don’t ask me anything. Please!”

Her voice rose to the edge of hysteria, as if she were a taut but weakened bowstring that had finally snapped.

“I only need to know where they are, miss. You’d be doing me a great favor.”

She would not look at him again. “A mile west of here. There’s a motel. That’s where they were.”

Joseph hid his exultation. He had been close, so close, and yet he might have passed them by if he hadn’t found this girl.

“You were with them, then,” he said. She was silent, but from the corner of his eye he could see her shivering.

“I think… if you could just drop me off at the bus stop,” she whispered.

“I don’t mind, miss. You’d be better off with me—”

“Please! Just let me out here!” She clawed at the door handle and almost opened it. Joseph braked and reached out to restrain her, steering one-handed. He felt the bones of her wrist compress in his grip.

“You know what he is, don’t you?” he asked. With a breathy cry she arched the fingers of her free hand and raked her nails across his face, struggling to break free. He felt the sting of the scratches but didn’t let go, pulling her toward him with a rough jerk.

“Calm down, girl. You have nothing to fear from me. But I must know—”

She made a wordless keening sound, raked at his arm and pushed herself bodily against the passenger door. Joseph fought to keep control of the truck as he kept his grip on the girl, steering at last to the shoulder of the road. The truck bumped into a low ditch, and he let it roll to a stop.

The woman had begun to sob. Black rivulets of makeup tracked over her cheeks.

“Please. Just let me go.” Her voice became a whimper. “I need my check, and to go to Calgary. That’s all. I never wanted this. I just wanted Kevin safe. Let me go…”

“Of course,” he said gently. He touched the side of her face. “You’ll be fine. I want you to tell me all about Kieran and his friend, and where they were going.”

But she only stared at him—stared and stared, as if she had gone mad. Or as if she looked upon a monster. Joseph spoke to her softly, and still she would not speak except to beg and whine.

Joseph knew himself to be a patient man. But he was wasting time, and the woman tried his patience. The scratches on his face wept tiny drops of blood and began to ache.

“Tell me what I must know, young lady,” he said. “I don’t like being angry. Tell me.”

But she did nothing but babble. Useless, Joseph thought. Useless. He threw open his door and walked around to the passenger side.

“Get out,” he said heavily. “You’re useless to me.”

Like a terrified rodent she crept from the truck, flinching away from him. Yes, exactly as if he were the monster, and not Kieran Holt.

None of them understood. None of them would ever know the truth.

He balled his fists. No. He had to make someone understand. If this woman knew what Kieran was, she would have to understand, and help him. It would be worth the effort.

“Wait, miss,” he called. And as she turned, eyes widest he smiled.

* * *

In her dream, someone screamed.

Alex bolted out of the chair, staring around the room. The phone rang again—not a scream at all, but just as startling. Sleep-dazed, she stumbled for the phone on the bed-table and fumbled for the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Is this Alexandra? I’m Cass, Lori’s sister. I haven’t been able to get an answer from her room, so…”

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