Chapter 19 Syzygy #2
My steps falter. One missed foot placement, and my heart slips a beat. My grip tightens around the handle, palm burning against the cold steel as I push forward.
Maybe I’m the one with the distorted reality, and I was always intended to be his victim. Maybe Orion sees the truth of me—the defective, callused organ I’ve carried since the moment I clawed back to this life.
Darby isn’t wrong to question me. It’s his job. He can’t overlook the evidence, or ignore all he knows about the woman with a bad heart. The fact it’s hardened and wrong. He can’t discount his instincts, honed by his many years in intelligence.
Once it was safe to leave Orion the other night, I went to Blue Hills—and found two bodies instead of one. It didn’t fit the pattern, but I told myself I could’ve been wrong, or that Orion’s dissociative spiral was triggered by an intruder, resulting in the utter carnage I saw there.
But either way, after everything, I couldn’t let him be discovered.
I used a rock to cave in the skulls he left behind in his fugue state. I bashed them until the remains were unrecognizable. I buried the bodies. I concealed the scene. Hid his kills. Destroyed all evidence.
The Gothic iron gate swings inward with a creak. The wind lashes my clothes as I grasp the railing and hurry down the steps. “You’re good, Darby,” I say, my feet hitting the weathered planks of the pier. “The best. But even you couldn’t have gotten this close without inside help.”
There had to be some informant.
“That’s fair,” he mutters, sounding distracted. “I just wish you could’ve trusted me.”
“I always have.”
Midway down the landing, the weight of what I’m about to do draws me to a stop.
I take a moment to catch my breath. For now, I just need to keep my distance from Orion.
At least until the eclipse is over. Not let him kill me before I get through to him.
And I have to prevent Darby from getting to him first.
I have to make sure no other predators smother his light. I have to protect him.
He’s mine.
“I am sorry it came to this, Darby,” I say into the line, the wind stirring the loose strands of my hair.
Darby sighs. “I know, Hol,” he says, and I try not to feel gutted by the disappointment I hear in his voice before I end the call.
With a reflective glance over my shoulder, I take in the towering structure of Stonehurst. Its soaring spires cast against the gray sky, the domed observatory I once believed held the secrets I so desperately wanted. Yet those secrets were locked inside the man, hidden behind his walls of stone.
It’s my fault Orion fixated on me. By the time I recognized the hollow, despondent look in his eyes on the shore, saw the vacancy and dissociation after his last kill, it was already too late.
Correcting course now might even be too late, but I have to try.
Each determined step brings me closer to the Eventide—the docked rigid-hull Zodiac the university uses for research purposes. The craft knocks against the pilings, the tidal swell rising higher with each powerful wave.
I press the heel of my palm beneath my left breast, willing the sharp pain away before I link the umbrella cord around my wrist and power down my phone. Then I ease toward the side of the vessel, setting my device on the edge.
I grab the mooring line. The serrated wind cuts through the sheer material of my blouse, salt spray stings my legs. I’m wind-torn and near drenched by the time I finally loosen the knot.
An unsettling prickle crawls up the nape of my neck, and I glance up toward the windows of the observatory. My pulse quickens as I question if Darby is there within—if he’s already tracked me this far.
I wrench the knot loose, urgency rushing my movements. Darby can chase my phone out into the open sea. All I need is for the boat to drift far enough offshore, leading him away from Orion. Giving me enough time to find Orion first, to reason with him, and—
“Dr. Holbrook!”
Startled, the coarse rope slips from my hands. “Shit,” I hiss. I reach for the line, knocking my phone into the hull of the boat. Heart pounding, I shove my annoyance down and turn toward Banner.
His quick strides close the distance between us, his features drawn in confusion.
“Dr. Holbrook, did you not get my calls?” Impatient, he waves a hand.
“Never mind. Orion abruptly left in the middle of his speech. He just—walked out.” He gives his head an incredulous shake. “Tell me you know where he is.”
Dammit, Orion.
Dread threads my spine as my gaze darts back to the observatory. Fear that Darby has already apprehended Orion strangles my throat. “I’m sorry, Dr. Banner. But I don’t.”
Banner frowns, his attention shifting from me to the research vessel, to the unknotted rope, before his gaze narrows back on me. Wariness settles in the furrow of his brow. “What exactly are you doing out here?”
Desperation curls my hand tight around the handle of the umbrella, fingers numb against the icy pommel. “Actually, I thought Orion might be here.” Thinking quickly, I add, “I saw him leave. I thought he might take the Eventide out to view the eclipse.”
He tilts his head, unconvinced. “In these conditions?” As if to make his point, a spray of frigid water crashes over the pier, the tide rushing in furiously. “No, there’s an advisory keeping crafts out of the water. Not even Rye would be reckless enough to risk the storm surge.”
“Of course, you’re right.” I nod with a forced smile. “We should head back, then. See if Dr. Night has already returned to the symposium.”
A chiming ring breaks into the moment, and Banner fishes his phone from his jacket pocket. I glimpse the number flashing on the screen, my pulse roaring louder than the crashing waves.
“Don’t answer that,” I warn him.
His thumb hovers above the screen, his gaze locked hard on me. “What’s going on?”
I clench my teeth, anxiety flaring beneath my skin. Banner needs to go—now. If Darby is calling his line, that means he’s closing in.
Banner silences the call. “You know, it seemed like you were starting to make progress with him,” he says, lowering the phone.
“However, I fear that I no longer have a choice. As soon as the event concludes, I’ll be making the arrangements to have Dr. Night admitted for a formal evaluation.
Dr. Holbrook, I’m afraid your services at Stonehurst are no longer desired. ”
Like the fury of the swelling tide, a surge of rage cracks my composure. A bitter flame ignites low in my stomach as I grip the handle, the steel biting cold into my palm.
“Right,” I say, eyes narrowing. “Now you want to get him proper help. I’m curious, though.” I tilt my head in accusation. “Were you really trying to protect Orion before, or just keep him cleared for your own benefit? Was I hired to help, or just to alleviate your conscience?”
Anger flushes across his pale features. But it’s there again, that betraying flash of guilt. Honestly, I wasn’t entirely sure about him until now.
“I promise you, I don’t know what you’re implying,” Banner says.
A derisive, knowing smile touches my lips. “Of course not, Dr. Banner,” I manage to say, swallowing my fury. I take a step toward him, steadying my voice. “We should get out of this weather, though. And I am concerned about Dr. Night. We should find him.”
Banner’s nod is firm, resigned to my suggestion until his phone lights with another call. Suspicion hardens his expression as he lifts the phone. Pressure builds behind my ribs, desperation coiling my muscles until the tension snaps, giving over to a kind of bleak resignation.
Against the howling wind and deafening roar of waves, the sound of Laurel’s voice reaches me, just as urgent in my memory as in that pivotal moment: “How far are you willing to go?”
And as I surrender, the relief washing through me is almost weightless. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t allow you to take that call, Dr. Banner.”
Adrenaline fires hot through my viscera as I snatch the phone from his hand and toss it into the Zodiac.
“Dr. Holbrook, what the hell—?” Out of reflex, he grabs my arm.
A viscous jolt of alarm slams through me. And suddenly, I’m no longer standing on a pier. Bright stage lights burn into my flared eyes, tears frozen in horror, refusing to fall.
My heart rate slows right along with time, trapping me in a moment of fear.
In a wide arc, I swing the umbrella down, connecting the steel pommel with the side of Banner’s head.
Broken free of his hold, I yank backward, nearly toppling over. He groans, bringing a hand to his head as he sways, his other bracing against the side of the boat. His phone vibrates from the hull, and he makes a desperate move to retrieve it.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, barely audible. It’s like watching it happen from outside of myself, still trapped in another timeline, caught in a single, static frame—a distant scene playing out in a theater, a girl’s life being stolen, torn away, unable to stop it.
Banner slumps against the gunwale, his groan lost beneath the next furious wave breaking against the pier. He reaches a shaky hand toward his phone—
And I can’t let him find out about Orion.
I need him.
I slash downward once more. The impact steals the air from my lungs. The steel handle collides with the back of his skull, the blunt force vibrating through my bones. Warmth splatters my face. My fingers slick with blood.
Banner’s body sags against the gunwale of the boat.
My vision flickers. The world narrows to the sound of the raging ocean, the creak of the rope. The dull thud in my temple. My heart rams my rib cage, and I release a sharp wince as the umbrella clatters to the pier.
Adrenaline floods my bloodstream, burning through my arteries. Throat raw, I swallow, leaning down to press my fingers to his limp wrist.
He’s unresponsive.
I exhale a foggy breath in the mist. Trembling, I turn into the sobering gust of wind, feeling the icy spray needle my face. I swipe at my cheek, smearing briny water and blood.