Splashed across the front page was a massive headline: King of Hearts Strikes Again.
There was a picture of police tape flickering in the wind, several police officers, and the unmistakable black, thick plastic of a body bag.
I paled. Heck, maybe my face fell off, because I lost all awareness of where I was. I was sucked in by the story. I crammed my face against the paper as I read.
Another dead body had been found with its chest cavity carved up and the heart missing.
That made it three in the past week. The papers were calling it a spree, people were scared, and the police had put out a warning.
“My god,” I said through a stuttering breath as I kept my hand clamped hard over my mouth. “That’s horrible.”
Max looked at me evenly, that judgmental look never too far from his gaze. Except, I had to be honest – it was softening. Maybe even he wasn’t aware of it, but the more time Max spent with me, the less he appeared to hate me. Still, that didn’t stop him from leaning back and crossing his arms. “It’s also magical,” he commented.
I’d just let my hand drop, and I’d been about to shovel a payload of pancakes into my gob. I stopped. Slowly, as if it were the hardest thing I’d ever do, I let my gaze dart up, and I looked at him. “Magical?” I choked over the word.
With his arms still crossed so firmly in front of him, he nodded.
A truly complex swirl of emotions shifted through me as I realized just what he was saying.
Sure, it had been a whole week since that incident with Farley, but you couldn’t tell my body that. It was still as fresh and visceral as if Farley had chased me through that forest only this morning.
Slowly, I put the fork down, pushed my plate back, folded the paper, and turned my full attention to Max. “How do you know it’s magical?”
Maybe Max would assume my question was offensive. Maybe he thought I was seconds from fighting him on this, seconds from turning my back on my so-called responsibility. I wasn’t. Because, like it or not, things were slowly changing in my head. The incident with Farley had affected me in ways I could barely appreciate. But there was one way I understood completely: I wanted revenge. No, that didn’t mean I wanted to march into whatever high-security prison Farley had been remanded into. I didn’t want to letter bomb his parents, either. Nope, I wanted to take down Fagan – his entire operation. Everyone who’d supported Farley, everyone who’d made those heinous crimes possible. They had to pay. It wasn’t because a sense of justice was finally welling in my heart. I hadn’t turned into a Detective Coulson here. I’d just turned into a tiger. And the tiger never backed down.
I couldn’t get the image of Farley’s first victim out of my head. An impression of her, though faint, seemed seared into my memory forevermore.
Max was looking at me. I mean really looking at me. Like he was trying to pare back my flesh, get inside my brain, and figure out what I was thinking.
Though I usually sneered at him when he was acting so obviously judgmental, this time, I didn’t. This time, I simply tipped my head back, crossed my arms, and looked right at him. “Well?” I demanded when he didn’t answer. “How do we know this is a magical crime?” My voice was remarkably even. I had, after all, had a career of controlling my reactions. And now it was starting to pay off.
Max finally lost that derisive gaze and shrugged. It could not be mistaken for an easy move. It was tight as his shoulders rose high against his ears. “Because of what was taken from the crime scene,” he answered. For the first time ever, Max’s voice dropped low. Not in warning, not because he was trying to menace me. Nope, he almost sounded scared.
This sent a truly violent kick of emotion reverberating through my gut. I had to clench my teeth hard not to fidget forward and slam a hand over my stomach.
“What do you mean?” Though I’d been managing to control my reaction up until that point, I lost my nerve. “What was taken from the crime scene? Was the murderer motivated by theft?”
Max tipped his head back and stared at me evenly. Again it was obvious he was waiting to gauge my reaction. “You could say that,” he answered after a quiet pause. There was something truly eerie about that pause. My stomach started to turn somersaults, and I instantly regretted having shoveled so many pancakes into my gob with such alacrity.
Max wasn’t exactly forthcoming. And I didn’t know why. Maybe he just wanted me to push, or maybe he was genuinely frightened himself. I realized his indecision was providing me with an opportunity. I could drop this and walk away. Or? Or I could push, find out just what heinous crime was making Max turn so pale, and then… then I could what? Use my crazy abilities to help track the killer down?
Max was watching me. Of course, Max was watching me. And of course, he was making absolutely no attempt to hide his judgmental stare. So this was a test, ha?
One more chance to turn back….
I found myself shaking my head at my own thought. Turn back? As if that was possible. This was my new life now, wasn’t it?
So I shoved forward. “Max, just bloody well tell me what was stolen from the crime scene already.”
Slowly, he smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile, and it didn’t exactly indicate satisfaction, either. Nope, just pride.
I had half a second to appreciate just how warm and tingly it felt when a man like Max was proud of
