It’s her. She’s the one who disappeared. Who came back. What’s she doing here?
Jasper moves into their line of sight as the teen pulls out her phone. “Ma’am. Mind if I step in here? My sister-in-law is tryin’ to do some shopping.”
They rush to the end of the aisle, and the mother—a little too loudly—tells her daughter to put her phone away.
“You doin’ okay?” Jasper asks, his voice quiet and gentle.
“Yes.” I force my fingers to unclench, then rub at the tight knot in my chest. “I think so. I…need to find the sketch pads.”
He offers me his arm, and though I want to do this on my own, the store is too busy. Too full of people. Jasper is safe. And while he can’t stop people from gawking—or whispering—he’ll at least make sure no one gets too close.
We find the drawing aisle, and I pick out a handful of graphite pencils, some new charcoals, and three different sketch pads. I almost go back to the watercolors, but my head is pounding. I’m ready to be home, curled up on the couch with Belle and a cup of tea.
At the register, I realize I didn’t think to ask AJ about my wallet. My credit cards. Driver’s license. Does he have them? Or was I carrying them when I disappeared?
The cashier rings everything up, and Jasper waves his phone over the card reader before I can say a word. It shouldn’t sting. He’s family. I’ll pay him back. I must have a bank account. Somewhere. But my cheeks catch fire and I stare down at the floor as the cashier passes him the bag.
“Hang on,” Connor says when we meet him at the doors. “I want a clear line of sight to the car.”
I almost laugh at his grave tone. We’re at a busy little shopping complex. No one’s going to try to grab me here. But he’s giving up his day to keep me safe, so I adjust my grip on Belle’s harness and wait for a handful of cars in the parking lot to clear.
The sun is blinding—it’s one of those days where spring is fighting hard to chase the last vestiges of winter away. I fumble for the sunglasses in my coat pocket, and round the hood of Connor’s truck to the passenger side.
The cloying scent hits me first. A sickeningly sweet mix of almond, honey, and vanilla. Nausea crawls up my throat. A bouquet of white and pink flowers is stuck through the door handle.
The whole world tilts sideways, carrying me with it. I’m so cold. Lying on my back, my arms pulled tight over my head. Snowflakes sting my cheeks. The lanterns swing in the wind, burning bright above me.
My muscles cramp, the pain so intense, it steals my breath.
Voices. All around me. They’re singing. Or chanting. But the words don’t make any sense.
“Please—”
The plea spills from my lips. My shoulder hits cold metal, and I’m falling. Somewhere close, Belle whines, but I can’t see her. Can’t get to her. My knees give out.
I can feel the poison stealing my life away. My heart beat slows. A knife glints in my periphery. This is it. This is when Prophet kills me.
Chapter Sixty-Two
AJ
I rub my eyes, the case file in front of me blurring. A dead body found only a few blocks from the warehouse on Grand where Jasper almost lost his life last year.
My phone buzzes next to me. Before I can even say hello, Jasper’s voice bursts from the speaker.
“AJ, Grace collapsed. We were gettin’ her some art supplies, and when we left the store, we found a bouquet of fuckin’ oleander flowers on Connor’s truck. It shook her somethin’ fierce. She’s dizzy and she ain’t…here. I think she’s trapped in her memories. We’re headed to Austin Memorial. Connor called VanHorn, and she’s gonna meet us there.”
“Fuck! Jas…put her on. Please. Just for a minute. Let me try to get her back.” I shove my chair so hard it hits the credenza behind me.
“Go ahead,” he says, his voice far away now.
“Grace? Darlin’, listen to me. You’re gonna be okay. You’re home. You’re safe. You’re loved.”
“Not…your Nova,” she whimpers. “Prophet…”
“Goddammit. Listen to me, Grace. You ain’t back there. You’re in Austin. With Jas and Connor. I’m comin’ for you, darlin’. You’re home. You’re safe. You’re loved!”
Her sob cuts through me, sharper than any blade ever could.
