65. Aareth
SIXTY-FIVE
AARETH
Impossible. It was an impossible coincidence. Either that or he was seeing things; his mind showing him what he wanted to witness rather than what was really there.
This foreign rage he felt inside and his kiss with Sloan didn’t help bring clarity to his current situation either. An already stressed problem was threatening to break him mentally.
Aareth Emerson, temporarily appointed city inspector, was traversing the wide streets of New Hope in long strides. People who passed him were faceless objects he had to avoid to get to his destination.
She’s dead, gone. I held the body. Aareth wasn’t sure if he was annoyed or grateful for Abigail’s voice breaking his train of thought.
“Is there anything you want me to do when we get there? I want to help in any way I can. And thank you for taking me along.” Abigail ran to keep up with his fast pace and long strides. “I know you didn’t have to take me along.”
“It’s all right.” Aareth shortened his strides to give Abigail a chance to catch her breath. “An extra pair of eyes and ears isn’t a bad thing when you’re looking for clues.”
“I can’t fight like you and Sloan and Jack, but I can take notes, or cover an exit, or I could?—”
“You don’t have to prove your worth.” Aareth turned down a street, taking them from the hustle and bustle of the main section of New Hope to a darker, seedier piece of the city. “As far as I’m concerned, you’d proved everything when you pulled the trigger that saved Jack’s life.”
At once, Aareth knew he had said too much. Abigail looked down at the street in silence.
“You did the right thing, kid.” Aareth turned to address Abigail for the first time in their conversation. “Don’t ever think there was another way, or regret your decision. Things happened as they were always meant to happen.”
“It’s not that.” Abigail turned dry eyes to meet Aareth’s stare. “I loved my father, but the man who set the wolf on Burrow Den and killed so many people, the man who killed Marcus and was about to kill Jack, that man was not my father.”
The final events in Burrow Den come back to Aareth in a flash. Elijah Ahab, Abigail and Elizabeth’s father, ready to stab Jack in the back, Abigail lifting the pistol, taking the shot that would save Jack and kill her father.
Aareth pushed the events from his mind. He knew firsthand that dwelling too long on memories would kill a man. He directed his eyes now to the terrain and how much the landscape had changed.
Twisting out of the center of the city was a labyrinth of commercial housing projects.
The address Sloan had provided to locate Aaron Jebson was taking them deep into a poor housing development.
Men and women lingered on street corners; couples and trios of shady characters examined Aareth and Abigail up and down.
Aareth met their gazes to let them know he wasn’t intimidated, then turned back to his path, also letting them know he didn’t want trouble. He stretched his right arm and worked it in a circle. A part of him recently awakened welcomed a fight.
“Here.” Aareth ignored the urge for conflict. Instead, he pulled out a piece of paper from the inside of his black coat. The writing on the parchment matched the home they stood outside of: 114 Roshni.
Aareth shoved the paper back into his pocket and walked up the short flight of stairs to the front door. The home was small with a black wooden door and gray cement walls. Before he could extract any other clues from the residence, wood shards on the doorstep grabbed his attention.
Splinters lay sprinkled on the ground just under the broken lock. Someone had beaten them to their destination.
“Abigail.” Aareth removed his jacket to ensure his movement wasn’t hindered.
“Yes,” Abigail answered in a steady voice that told him she was ready to enter if he asked.
“You stay put, no matter what you hear inside.” Aareth fought off a wave of heat that burned from somewhere deep in his body. “Do you understand?”
“I understand. I’ll stay here.” Abigail re-steadied her voice. “Be careful.”
Somehow, Aareth knew she was lying. Staying and waiting wasn’t in the Ahab girl’s wheelhouse.
Aareth slowly pushed the door open. The broken lock gave him no trouble; the door swung inward without a squeak.
Inside, the house opened into a living room, a kitchen to his right, and a half-open door in the rear.
The window blinds were drawn, bathing the interior in darkness.
The space was dusty and dank. The odor of ancient food caught in Aareth’s nose.
At the same time, echoes of labored breathing grabbed his attention.
The sound was coming from the room in the back. Aareth crossed through the apartment and placed a hand on the door. The noise of someone or something struggling for oxygen steadily grew. Slowly, Aareth opened the door. It creaked open with a groan.
A body lay on the floor, quaking. A middle-aged man clutched at his neck with both hands. Blood ran from a slit across his throat. In vain, he struggled to stem the tide.
Glass had been shattered all around the room, telling Aareth everything he needed to know. He had missed the attack by a minute, maybe less. He passed the man’s body, leaning out the window to see if they were safe. Nothing. No sign of even a fleeing figure.
Rage readying itself for a fight still flowed heavy in his veins. He knelt beside the dying man as Abigail walked into the room. Her eyes were huge.
Aareth had seen death enough to know the man had seconds left. There was no saving him now. All Aaron Jebson could do in his last moments was help Aareth in giving him the answer he so desperately sought.
“Who did this to you?” Aareth knelt close to the man. “Tell us! Was it a woman?”
“Not human… A pale man…” the dying scientist rasped as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. “A scar…”
“Were you in Burrow Den?” Aareth pushed, fearing he would lose the man before he had his answers. “Tell me.”
“Yes.” The answer was already fading as it exited his lips.
“Who did you work for? Was it Doctor Livingston?”
The man gurgled something unintelligible. A new wave of blood seeped from his mouth. The last thing Aareth caught before the man’s eyes went lifeless were two words: “The Order.”
“I need more answers,” Aareth raged as he grabbed the dead man by the shoulders. “Did you ever see a woman? Did she have a tattoo on her wrist?”
There was no answer from the corpse.
“I need to know, I need to know!” Reason left Aareth as frustration took over. “Tell me!”
His wrath was all-consuming. So much so, he barely felt the gentle hand on his shoulder.
“He’s gone,” Abigail said.
Aareth released the body, letting it fall to the floor like a marionette with broken strings. He calmed himself, breathing in heavy draughts of air. He needed to focus. Blind rage would get him nowhere. He knew that firsthand.
“Who are you looking for?” Abigail removed her hand from his shoulder. “A woman with a tattoo?”
“It’s stupid, but I have to be sure. I saw her body after she died. If there’s even the slightest chance she could still be alive, then I have to find out.”
“Who?” Abigail asked.
Aareth gave the girl a sideways glance. It was information he hadn’t shared with Sloan or Jack. Something deep within him said Abigail could be trusted. “My wife.”