Chapter 13
Lucan
The armory always has the same effect on first-time visitors. They expect a cabinet, and instead they get a gallery-sized room.
Bright white lights fizz on overhead, illuminating rows of metal.
The weapons were arranged with obsessive precision by my father. And later me, once he was satisfied I’d had enough training.
Holding the door, I let Sadie enter before me, because I want to see her reaction in detail.
I like seeing everything about her in detail. She wears an incredible amount of thought and emotion on her face. Why would I miss any of it?
Squeezing past me, she pauses in the doorway. Her honey-vanilla scent is distinct in the cold, metallic air of the subterranean armory. Slowly, her head turns to take everything in.
I try to look at the room through her eyes.
Racks of rifles line one wall. Another holds tactical gear, including helmets, body armor, and night-vision rigs. Glass cabinets display handguns like museum pieces.
In the center of the room sits a long steel table of smaller defensive equipment. Pepper spray, stun devices.
Her eyes widen at the rifles on racks.
“What’s that for?” she asks, pointing at an extra-long, sand-colored one.
She stays well back, as if going near the weapon might set it off.
“Accuracy International AXSR,” I reply automatically.
Her brow furrows. “A what?”
“Elite sniper rifle. A gift from my father’s friend.”
“You don’t… use it, do you?”
I shrug. “Only if someone manages to escape. The range is excellent.”
Her eyes fill with concern. “Yeah. Right.”
She’s not totally sure that I’m messing with her, which only makes it more fun.
The way she unconsciously hugs herself as she gazes around triggers an intense protective instinct in me.
She couldn’t be more out of place, yet she’s here anyway. Despite her clear reservations, she came. I wasn’t sure she would.
No person as sweet as Sadie should have to think about self-defense. I wish she’d let me handle it all for her.
She should be thinking about writing and books and me. Preferably nothing else, ever.
Getting her here is a start though. Bringing her close.
“I’ll show you something you can handle,” I say, moving to the center table.
The stun device fits easily in my palm. Matte black, it’s the size of a small flashlight.
I feel pretty confident she’ll avoid hurting herself with it. Although, a person’s ability to cause themselves harm should never be underestimated.
She eyes it warily, which reassures me that she’ll wield it with care.
“It’s a high-voltage stun gun from the military,” I say. “Compact, reliable, good for close-quarters attacks.”
“I see.”
“Come here.” I beckon with my free hand. “If you’re ever going to use it on someone, you need to know how.”
After hesitating, she steps closer.
I can’t tell if she’s more afraid of me or the stun gun, because she looks at us like we’re the same.
I place the device in her small hand. A frisson moves through my skin at the contact.
As I take my fingers away, hers curl around the handle uncertainly.
“Not quite.” I move behind her. “Hold it like this.”
She stiffens immediately.
Reaching past her shoulder, I close my hand over hers to adjust her grip. Her pulse jumps under my fingers.
“Thumb here,” I murmur. “The trigger is pressure-sensitive.”
She swallows. “So I just… point it at the person?”
“Make sure you’re within range first. You use it when someone’s already in your space.”
She’s very still now. “So I let them get near?”
“If you have to.”
“That seems dangerous.”
“I know it does.”
Her hand is still enclosed in mine. I can feel the tension in her grip, like she’s wary of sparking the heat between us.
“Then what?” she asks.
“Then you press the trigger,” I say.
Curiosity enters her voice. “What will happen?”
“Try it. Find out.”
After a long, steady exhale, she tightens her grip and presses the trigger. The device crackles to life with a sharp electric snap, searing blue and sparkly. She jerks back reflexively, landing against my chest.
I don’t move away, but she pushes off me while peering at the stun gun.
“That was perfect,” I say, still feeling the imprint of her warm skin on my palm. “Keep it on you always. Use it when you need it.”
With care, she opens her bag and lowers the weapon inside.
“I hope I never need to use it,” she says.
“Neither do I.”
“You said you’d have information about the car he drove?” she asks.
“I did say that.” I tilt my head at the door. “Let’s go upstairs. You don’t seem all that comfortable down here.”
“Can’t imagine why,” she says as she follows me out.
With my back to her, I smile.
She’s cute when she’s uncomfortable. Unfortunately for her, I’ll be making it happen again.
Sadie failed to obey the order I gave her at Altar. She ran out before sitting on the glass table for ten minutes.
That means I get to give her three orders now. She may’ve conveniently chosen to forget the rule, but I haven’t. I’m just waiting for the best moment to remind her.
Upstairs, I veer into a corridor toward the eastern wing.
“Where are we going?” she asks with a distinct note of apprehension.
“Somewhere more your style,” I say.
Stopping at an alcove, I look for a certain book spine on the shelves.
Pulling the book opens the hidden door, revealing the small reading room within.
Sadie’s face breaks into a genuine smile.
“Are you kidding?” She steps inside, and I follow. “I used to dream of having a secret room like this at home!”
She runs her fingertips over the rows of books. “This one has a bookmark in it. Do you actually read in here?”
I grunt. “You sound surprised.”
“I guess I don’t imagine people living in a house like this having the time.”
“We’re not aliens or robots, Sadie.”
She gives me a sidelong look. “That’s what an alien or robot would say.”
“An alien or robot wouldn’t think about what I’m thinking about though.”
The divine vision of her sweet little cunt pressed against glass for me lights up my entire mind.
“What are you talking—” Cheeks blushing, she looks at the books instead of me. “Forget it. I don’t want to know.”
I smirk. “But you do know. And that’s what matters.”
“Oh god. You’re the worst.”
“That’s probably true.”
There’s a single armchair beneath the bay windows. I gesture for Sadie to take it.
She sits, while I lean against the bookcase closest to her. Close enough that I could touch her if I reach out, which I’m fucking dying to do.
The way she nibbles her lip sends blood straight to my cock.
Her brows lift. “Lucan?”
“What?” I ask, confused.
“The car the killer was driving?” she prompts. “You had info about it?”
“Right.” I clear my throat, forcing myself to focus. “We got a hit on the vehicle. It was reported stolen late last night by a Darkbloom staff member. An elderly woman who works in the Humanities archives. She finished late. She said the vehicle was gone when she went to go home.”
Sadie’s hands clench. “Does the staff parking lot have security cameras you can check?”
“It does have cameras. Unfortunately, she wasn’t parked in the lot. She parked on the dirt road near the forest.” I scratch my cheek. “I can’t understand why. It’s a longer walk and more dangerous.”
A knowing look comes over Sadie’s face, which mystifies me further.
“What?” I ask.
She considers me before responding, her gray eyes unreadable.
“The campus lots cost money,” she says quietly. “Parking on the dirt road is free.”
“Huh.” I frown. “You think that’s it?”
She snorts. “Trust me, that’s it.”
Damn, that never would’ve occurred to me.
I make a mental note to send the archivist a new car. She’ll also have a permanent parking space close to the Humanities entrance.
Easy fix.
“Her car keys were missing too,” I say. “Stolen from her handbag.”
“Where was the bag?” asks Sadie.
“Under a desk in the archive rooms all day. There are no cameras in that part of the library. It’s ancient.”
“Who has access to the archives?”
“The shorter question is, who doesn’t?” I grimace. “Students, faculty members, TAs, maintenance crew, alumni. No one would stop relatives of students either, if we’re being real. Darkbloom University is funded by families.”
Her shoulders slump. “So anyone could’ve done it.”
“This is a lead, Sadie. We’ll find him, I promise.”
Her hand absentmindedly falls to her bruised wrist, like she’s wondering if she’ll survive another attack. The marks have turned from red to mottled purple, cruel and deep.
“He’s sneaky,” she says. “He knew how to stay off camera.”
“He’s a coward,” I say. “We don’t let cowards win. Right?”
“Right.”
But she doesn’t sound all that convinced.
Resolve hardens inside of me like a promise. I’m going to tear that motherfucker limb from limb for what he did to Sadie and my cousins.
When she tilts her head back to meet my eyes, there’s an unexpected feeling behind my sternum. A drop, almost. Like the moment a rollercoaster hurtles downward, taking me with it because I have no choice. Like I have no control.
What the fuck is that about?
It’s not unpleasant exactly, but it’s still fucking unnerving.
I must always keep my composure, because losing control is where mistakes are made. My father has drilled that into me since I was a child. Control of the world starts with control of self.
She looks at her bag, the stun gun bulging. “I’ve never held a weapon before.”
“Your family didn’t own them? Not your parents or brother?”
I know damn well she doesn’t have a brother, but I must tread with extreme care here. One slip-up, and she’ll realize the extent of my enthusiasm for knowing every shred of information about her.
The police reports were easy to get my hands on. Write-ups from social workers and medical providers were trickier.
“My father left when I was very young,” she says. “I don’t remember him. My mother had a boyfriend during my high school years. Russell. But he… wasn’t the protective kind.”
That’s putting it mildly. I’ve read the police reports.
“You didn’t get along with him?” I ask in a neutral tone.
“He didn’t get along with anyone, except his drinking buddies at the local bar.” She rolls her eyes, but there’s old hurt in her voice too.
Though I know this information already, hearing it from her is different to reading it off a screen. More raw and real. It almost makes me feel bad for taking the details before being offered them.
I wait, silently urging her to say more. I want to know everything and I want it from her beautiful mouth.
She keeps going. “My mom felt like she couldn’t leave him because—”