BooksBarbecue
Back Point Last Seen
Chapters (86)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. Booklist
  4. Dedication
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. 70
  75. 71
  76. 72
  77. 73
  78. 74
  79. 75
  80. 76
  81. 77
  82. 78
  83. 79
  84. 80
  85. 81
  86. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

“Mila is so young. So vibrant. She’s barely started her career. Next month, she will attend the premiere of the picture you two did together, Sisters in War. I am an expert with a stiletto, and I could stick a blade in her back and pierce her lung, and she would die a slow, inevitable death...” Zsóke contained Clarice’s struggles. “No? There are other ways, some more terrible than others. So remember, you and me, we sleep together. We eat together. We never leave each other’s sides. When I’ve finished this job here, I might let you live...and you might remember to never mention my name to law enforcement. Because if you do, they won’t catch me...but I will remember your sister.”

40

ADAM WOKE FROM A dream of water, death and madness to a morning of bright sunlight—and no Elle in the bed beside him. In one movement, he flipped over and onto his feet. He caught his breath at the surge of pain his careless movement caused, shook it off and rushed into the living room.

Elle wasn’t there, nor was she in the kitchen. He ran out on the front porch—and found her, seated sideways in the swing, her back against one armrest, her feet propped on the other. In her lap, she held the leather journal Rune had given her. Her pen was poised over the half-scribbled page.

How dare she scare him half to death, yet be the picture of relaxation?

Looking up, she smiled as if the sight of him gave her pleasure. “Good morning. Are you rested at all? Or did the nightmares exhaust you?”

“What nightmares?” he asked automatically.

“The ones that had you twitching and moaning all night.” She swung her legs over and patted the seat beside her. “It was a reversal of roles. I didn’t scream because you were in such turmoil. It gave me a different perspective. Nice to think of someone else for a change.”

He didn’t know what to say. Or do. It was his immutable policy to do his suffering in private. But now he was sleeping with a woman, here to protect her, to give her a sense of security, and they’d reversed their roles, and he was the...not the weakling. Because he never thought of her as a weakling. But in the dark of the night, his subconscious had succumbed to memories that had shattered him.

He removed his focus from her, from himself. He remembered yesterday’s bullet and their possible danger, and he scanned the horizon.