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So Below As Above

Page 62

by Amelia Saints

He pauses. “How do you remember that?”

I freeze, confused by his question. “How would I remember what?”

“Nothing.” He dismisses me with a wave, then straightens and stuffs his hands into his pockets, fidgeting with something hidden within.

“You seem to be intentionally trying to make me suspicious of people who have been nothing but nice to me,” I rebut.

“Don’t fall for him. He’s alarmingly handsome, and he’s grown to have a way with words. It’s easy to fall into lust over genuine desire.” His words make me falter, heat rising to my cheeks, and I can’t help the glance back at the house.

“Ah—I see. If I were you, I’d use that attraction to your benefit. Use it until you gather all the information you need. It won’t do me any good to provide you with further details.”

“I’m not here for silly men.”

“You’re sassy, I like that. Use it to your advantage while you’re here. Oh—” He rests his powerful hands upon my shoulders, more warning than protection.

Up close, I notice the scars that line his cheeks. Faint white lines. His eyes aren’t bloodshot, but they’re distant, preoccupied with matters beyond this meeting, and his mouth is set in a permanent grimness. A chord of sorrow strikes my chest. Why do I feel for this man?

“Don’t walk the labyrinth alone.”

“Do you mean Devil’s Bay?” The urge to roll my eyes is enticing. This is because of yesterday.

“Look at what happened to you yesterday, little bird.” The nickname causes a flurry of heat to cascade across my chest. I shrug his hands off me, the words sounding regurgitated.

“Okay, I’m leaving. I thought you’d have more to give me.”

“I’m giving you myself.” A huff of breath escapes between a curl of smoke.

I don’t cave and give him the satisfaction of another reply.

“Misty! Let’s go!” I shout. Misty returns to my side in an instant. As I turn to walk away, the Sheriff reaches for my arm and pulls me back. The feeling of his hands on my skin sends a jolt of desire through my body. I hate this.

“Think about this.” He uses my words against me. “You have the Sheriff willing to investigate this strange family, strange house,”—he makes a sweeping gesture to the surroundings—“no one in the house will suspect a woman with lost memories. Makes it all the easier for a takedown.”

“What makes you think I want to be a part of your take down? You won’t even tell me what the suspicions or crimes are.”

“Deep down, none of this makes sense to you. I’ve spoken to Dr. Marlowe. You think you ended up on these shores by accident? Why not the beach downtown? Or that raggedy inlet on the other side of town?” He lists off. He’s incredibly close to me now. I can feel a sizzle of danger. I know I should run, but I stand my ground, steeling my muscles for a fight.

Misty seems to sense my apprehension and slowly emits a growl. Sheriff Valen doesn’t release me. He did have a point though, why here? Why me?

“What could you possibly need from me? You’re the Sheriff, you should be informing me. Not the other way around.” I bare my teeth.

“You have a unique position. I need you to infiltrate the Lazarus name. I have tried for years to find what Kieran Lazarus is hiding behind those doors.”

I peer at the house over my shoulder. The windows, yawning entrance and tall spires resemble a monster ready to devour its prey. Maybe its owner had already ensnared his prey, waiting for the right time to devour.

“What does this have to do with me?” I ask. Bargains and deceit. How did I end up here?

“I’ll give you whatever you want.” He counters.

“I want money. Anything to get me on my feet.”

“You know that won’t work.” He proffers me his back. A strong, muscular back.

I reach for him this time, grasping firmly around his left wrist. “What the hell is this place, then?”

He opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it. A moment later he shrugs. “Where were Dante and Virgil venturing through?”

I release his hand and preemptively raise my fingers to gesture obscenities with my middle fingers.