very broad sets of shoulders. Kayden’s abrupt stop caused me to backpedal so I
wouldn’t run into him. I caught myself against the doorjamb. “A little warning next time.”
He didn’t answer or turn around.
I tugged at his arm. “Hey, move so I can see.” Sometimes it sucked to work
with tall people. Kayden’s body was stiff under my hand, and his reaction tripped my internal warning system. “Kayden, move.” This time my command
made it through.
He shifted to the side and gave me room to slip past him. I didn’t get far. As
soon as I stepped in front of him, his hands locked on my waist and held me still.
It took a minute for the pieces to come together and make sense. A set of shelves
rested haphazardly against the far wall, shattered glass blanketing the floor below, and dried herbs were mixed among the jagged pieces. An overturned
chair sat among a Rorschach painting of rust. Those rusty marks splattered across the white walls and a set of framed Jimmy Hendrix posters in a very distinctive pattern.
And just beyond the upturned chair was a crumpled body. A very dead body.
The room lurched and only Kayden’s grip on my waist kept me upright. Ramirez
stared unseeing from the floor where a crimson halo spilled around him, a neat
hole marring his forehead. A familiar, black nine-millimeter lay like an inkblot
near his feet.
I stared at the gun in disbelief and rising horror. How had my Sig ended up
here? The last time… Pain seared behind my eyes and brought back the whispers with a vengeance. I grit my teeth, determined to get an answer, a
memory, anything that could explain how my gun ended up next to the dead body of our best lead to Ellery. My denial was harsh and angry. “It wasn’t me.”
“It’s your gun.” Wolf’s eerie sea glass-colored eyes were hard and it was clear he was asking a question, but making a statement.
I wasn’t a fool. I snapped my mouth shut and glared.
His calm expression didn’t waver. “What happened?”
“Wolf, back off.” The growl came from behind me.
That got a reaction. Wolf frowned at Kayden. “You know how this goes,
Shaw. Delacourt’s going to want answers. Her gun, her phone.” He held out my
phone in one glove covered hand, the screen shattered. “It doesn’t look good.”
“The last time I saw Ramirez he was alive.” And he was blocks away in a burned-out building. “I think he had a partner.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.” I bit out as my insides started to quake. I twisted in Kayden’s
arms, searching his face, needing someone to believe me, because with the gaping hole in my memory, even I wasn’t sure of what had happened. “It wasn’t
me.”
As close as I was, I couldn’t miss the flash of doubt before he doused it. It
hurt. Like being swiped with a sharp blade, the initial sting burned, but what would come later would be worse. The whispers in my head swarmed closer, bursts of taunting laughter driving ice picks into my brain. Flinching, I stepped
back, putting distance between myself and the two men watching me.
Spurred by desperation, I reached into the past for answers, only to come up
against the heavy emptiness in my head. Fear and frustration drove me on, and I
pushed harder. Pain exploded, and blood dripped from my nose.
“Stop.” Kayden reached out, but I stumbled back, not wanting him to touch
me. Unfortunately, the room was too small to escape, and he grabbed me,
dragging me close. His hand wound through my hair and tugged my head back.
