altering his routine in any way could draw notice. At the first sign of a trap, he’d flee.
But none awaited him.
His escaped captive had either crawled behind a rock to die, as befitted her, or she’d been too far gone to give away details that might implicate him.
Fabian didn’t care which it might be, as long as the bitch didn’t complicate his life.
In the future, he decided, he’d cut out the tongue of anyone he deemed suitable to serve as his nourishment. Rendering the captive incapable of speech would be smart. And everyone knew he had a higher level of intelligence than most.
Sated on a morning meal of Shari’s blood, Fabian parked behind the tattoo parlor, got out, and stretched. It was a beautiful day. Bright sunshine warmed his face. The air smelled crisp and cool and full of promise.
Shari had been full of promises, too.
He smiled with the memory. Willingly, she’d given him her blood; she’d even put the IV into her own arm, then allowed him to drink his fill until she’d grown faint and confused from loss of blood. After coercing her to call in sick for the day, he’d tethered her to the bed, gagged her for safe measure, and left her insensate at the fleabag motel.
The run-down roadhouse catered to the criminal activity of gangs, drug users, and lowlife prostitutes. The slum location was ideal, so overlooked by everyone that he might keep it for his future assignations—both for quick collation and quiet captivity.
In rapid order, many of his most immediate problems had been resolved.
He felt safe again, omnipotent even.
Shari couldn’t talk. The girl couldn’t even sit up by herself. And the escaped cow obviously hadn’t spilled her guts, or else the police would already be at his door.
Given their own involvement, and knowing he’d make any snitch pay with his life, none of the others would dare point a finger at him in any way.
Fabian smiled in triumph. He’d turned conventional society on its ear, broken every restrictive taboo, and he’d gotten away with it, time and time again.
No one and nothing could ever stop him.
He unlocked the back door to the tattoo parlor and went inside. They didn’t officially open for another couple of hours, but he wanted to do some research on his business computer. Before he met with Gaby tonight, he would figure out how he knew her, and the best way to kill her.
He could hire others to dispatch of her, but only he possessed the passion, the skill, the control, to do it properly.
With Gaby, he would do his finest work.
The change in weather did little to lighten Gaby’s mood. Slouched on the curb, earbuds in so she could vibrate her brain with hard music, she alternately watched the play area and Sin Addictions.
She’d unzipped her sweatshirt, revealing a T-shirt beneath. Elbows on her knees, she waited for the little girl to show up. And she noticed when a light went on inside the tattoo parlor.
Her skin prickled.
Today, something would happen.
What, she didn’t know, but she felt it deep inside. Unlike her usual calling that tormented her with twisting pain, this feeling of expectation sizzled along her nerve endings, a foreboding of imminent distortion in her life.
To ensure she wouldn’t miss a call from Luther, she’d set her phone to vibrate. At the small of her back, the hard bite of her knife against her spine lent a degree of comfort.
A cool breeze stirred her hair. A bird dipped in flight, then circled and landed in a barren tree. Children laughed.
Off in the distance, a siren squealed, blending with the lonesome whine of a train whistle. Dogs barked.
Seeing the girl she wanted walking hand in hand with another, smaller child, Gaby pushed to her feet. The younger girl shot free and ran to join the other children.
Wondering what to say first, how to protect the girl without alarming her, Gaby started across the street.
The girl glanced up, and smiled a greeting. “Hey.”
Relieved that she wasn’t afraid, Gaby said back, “Hey.” She nodded toward the other girl. “Who’s your friend?”
“My little sister.” She moved toward where the girl played. When Gaby didn’t immediately follow, she looked back. “Come on. She always wants to play, but . . . I fear it might not be safe.”
Perplexed by the friendly welcome, Gaby joined her. “You’re not afraid?”
The girl crossed her arms over a broken chain link fence. “Now, with you here, it is better. You will keep everyone safe.”
“No . . . ” Stumped, Gaby turned and leaned her back on the fence. She felt awkward with the girl’s innocent acceptance and trust. “I meant, aren’t you afraid of me? After what I did, I thought . . . I don’t know. It didn’t freak you out a little?”
Braided, the girl’s long dark hair reached the middle of her back. She wore too-small, tattered jeans, a stained shirt that couldn’t keep her warm, and sneakers without socks.
But she smiled when she looked at Gaby again. “I am Dacia. And you are?”
“Gaby.”
Dacia stared at her sister. “She is Malinal. I care for her, but it is not easy.”
“How old are you?”
“I am twelve.” Sunlight glinted on her small nose and long, dark lashes. “Mali is five.”
Gaby’s heart twisted. She moved a little closer to Dacia, tried to look relaxed when she felt anything but. “Dacia, where do you and your sister live?”
The silence grew louder than the kids’ laughter, more deafening than the cawing crows and beeping horns of traffic a few streets away.
Gaby waited, while inside her soul, the turmoil clamored and expanded to immeasurable proportions.
Mali ran after another kid, and Dacia adjusted her position to keep the little girl in her sights. When that required moving a few feet away, she held out her hand to Gaby.
Unnerved by the gesture, Gaby took the small hand in her own, and knew she would die to protect the girl.
“I can trust you,” Dacia said as they rounded a big, half-dead tree. “Can I not?”
“You can,” Gaby vowed.
“I do not want Mali taken from me.”
“I won’t let that happen.”
“Sometimes . . . ” Dacia swallowed, took a moment to compose herself. “Mali cries in the night. And when she sleeps, she holds me so tight. I am all she has.”
“You love her a lot, Dacia, and that makes her a very lucky little girl.”
Dacia’s voice broke. “Sometimes she is hungry.”
“And you?”
“Sometimes I am hungry, too.” They continued to walk, always keeping Mali in view. “We live wherever we can. Where I think we will be safe. We hide.”
Because Gaby had done the same off and on throughout her life, she wasn’t overly shocked. Just very, very heart-broken. “It’s getting colder, you know. Soon it will snow. You need real shelter.”
Dacia bent to retrieve the wing of a dead butterfly. She studied it, and then dropped it back to the ground. “I would rather be cold than be alone.”
“You won’t be alone. Not ever again.” Gaby went down on one knee, and damn it, she felt tears sting her eyes. Dacia needed a strong defender, not a whiny female.
Unfortunately, in the current modification of her life, Gaby could no longer distinguish quite where the paladin ended and the woman began.
“From now on,” Gaby said, ignoring her weaknesses, “you have me.”
Dacia started to smile, when suddenly she looked past Gaby and fear widened her eyes.
