It must be her footprints marking the dust. Years of fighting demons had taught him to look beyond the obvious. If she’d lived here less than three months, it was possible she didn’t know about the book. He had no proof she had taken it. It wasn’t fair to hold her responsible for something someone in her family could have done.
He started to close the book and saw the last page, half torn, was written in a strange language. He’d heard rumors of secrets hidden deep within the clan. Was this one of them? Closing the book, he left the attic and approached her room. If he confronted her, she’d lie about it anyway. No. Better to watch her. Catch her in a mistake. He hid the book under the floorboard with the time vault key and then climbed into the shower, leaning against the tile in exhaustion. He was certain of one thing. Whether she did or didn’t steal the book, he would find his answers here.
***
A ringing phone woke Bree. She shot up in bed, staring at it, afraid to answer, afraid not to. What if something was wrong with her mother? “Hello?”
“Bree, it’s Peter. Sorry to call so late, but it’s urgent that I catch your friend before he leaves.”
This was her chance to get rid of Faelan, get him out of her hair. But then she’d never find out who he was and how he’d gotten inside the time vault, and she’d never rest knowing she’d walked away from the greatest mystery of her life. “Sorry, you missed him.”
“Damn it. Any way to reach him?”
“It’d be difficult. Is he in trouble?”
“No. Just wanted to ask him some questions. Where did you say he lived?”
“Uh… Scotland.”
“Scotland? Don’t suppose you have his phone number?”
“I don’t think so.”
“What did you say his last name was? I’ll find him.”
She hadn’t given Faelan’s last name when she introduced the two men. “Vault.”
“Faelan Vault. Got it. I thought about swinging by your place in the morning. I wanted to look in on you. You could always rustle up some French toast.”
“You can’t. I’ve got the flu.”
“The flu? I just saw you this morning.”
“It hit fast.”
“You need anything?”
“Rest. Did you identify the victim?”
“Not yet. Kind of hard, with his body ripped to shreds and his fingers and head missing. Sorry. I’m frustrated. A mutilated body and no leads.”
“What about the campers?”
“They don’t know anything, or not saying, if they do.”
“What about the ones who saw something strange?”
“They hightailed it out of here as soon as we questioned them. Didn’t even come back for their gear.”
“Did they actually witness the murder?”
“No. Just saw something in the woods near where it happened.”
“You think they were involved?”
“I doubt it. I’ve never seen two people so scared.”
“What did they see exactly?”
Peter gave a frustrated sigh. “An orc. Their words, not mine.”
“An orc?”
“Like in
Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Bree glanced at her locked door. “You sure it wasn’t an animal?”
“You can’t repeat this, but we found some strands of hair. They look human. They’re testing them now.”
“What color?” she squeaked.
“Dark. Like your friend’s. If you happen to find a number for him, or if you change your mind about staying there alone, call me. Emily had my cell phone number in the kitchen. Bree… be careful.”
After he hung up, Bree touched the short piece of hair, remembering how terrifying Faelan had looked lunging at her with his dagger, how angry he’d been when she followed him outside after the scream, the footprint he’d hidden, the blood. His fury in the crypt when he’d found her taking a picture of the time vault. His bizarre behavior over Erik.
Was Faelan the demon? Was that his secret? He was with her when they heard the scream, but maybe he had a partner. Maybe her grandmother hadn’t meant for Bree to help Faelan, but to help someone lock him away. Bree threw back the covers. This time she’d find his name in the book no matter how long it took. Demon or warrior. It was time for show and tell.
