Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
ORPHEUS
Rays of morning light gradually moved across Jadeon’s bedroom and fell upon Ingrid’s face.
She recalled her time with him. He had revealed to her secret pleasures that still left her breathless.
She snuggled under the covers, smelling his masculine scent on the bed linen.
Reaching over for him, her heart sank when she realized Jadeon was no longer lying beside her.
Using the gift of the mind, I followed my ingenue with the quiet finesse of something unseen.
Close enough to watch, yet just beyond her reach.
From the darkness, I tracked her every movement, slipping unseen through the folds of her mind.
I listened to her thoughts as if they were whispered secrets meant only for me.
Intrusive? Undoubtedly. But exquisitely satisfying.
She liked him . . .
A wispy trace of sensual pleasure lingered, sweeping over her like a summer breeze. The feeling that she might have met someone truly special. Yet, the more questions he answered, the more arose in their place.
She sat up and looked for him.
She could not deny that it was . . . such a nocturnal life. Surely art could be discussed, bought, and sold during the day. Indeed, the daylight would be more natural and appropriate for such things, but he was not here.
Unsettling her.
One-night stands aren’t so bad, she told herself, then squeezed her eyes shut in doubt, because she never did this, any of it, date or otherwise, and she’d been seduced by the glamour of it all.
The haunting memory of that stranger—me—in the dungeon flickered through her thoughts like a fading dream. “Orpheus?”
“Surrender to me,” I had whispered it.
Her dizziness faded as she drew in sharp, steadying breaths to calm herself. Memory hazy, as if I had somehow cast a spell over her.
A sound alien to this place distracted her. She recognized the ringtone.
She jumped out of bed and rummaged through her handbag. Ingrid peered at the number on her phone.
Work had contacted her. Only, there was no reception to call back. Glancing around the room, she soon noticed the antique phone on a side table next to the bed and wondered if it actually worked.
Thank goodness it did.
“Hello sir, this is Jansen.” She greeted her boss Detective Chief Inspector Vanderbilt.
“Jansen, I apologize for bothering you on your weekend off, but we have a situation. We have a double homicide. Initially, I assigned Bradford to the case, but his health has taken a turn. I need you back in the field.”
That familiar rush of adrenaline, that spark of intrigue that had drawn her to this profession. “I’m on my way. I’m in Cornwall, but I’ll leave now and should be with you in four hours or so.”
She let out a silent moan of regret, knowing she had no choice but to leave. After the intimacy she’d shared with Jadeon, it might seem strange, but she'd always been independent. He had invited her down, only to vanish.
Work came first.
“I’ll send a car,” he said.
“Sounds perfect. The victims?”
“So far, two single females. It appears they didn’t know each other from what we can tell, but we’re still following up leads. It’s nasty, Ingrid. Their bodies were discovered one night apart. One at Avebury, the other at Stonehenge, both tied to the stones.”
“The Stonehenge?” Ingrid asked.
“There’s only one Stonehenge, Ingrid.”
Ingrid thought it uncanny she had just been speaking to Jadeon about rituals performed at the site.
“You still there?” Vanderbilt said.