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A hand closed around my wrist, pulling me back. I turned to see Gideon. He’d followed me, while the other three still shouted in my living room. He dropped my wrist as soon as I stopped.

“Where are you going?”

He searched my face and I returned his gaze. He hadn’t exactly defended me back there, not that I needed his help. But, it would’ve been nice to hear.

“Out. I need some air.”

Turning away, I made it a few steps in the direction of the stairs before he was in front of me, blocking the way.

“You can’t go. I need you.” Gideon grabbed my shoulders, his grip tight. “We have to find Theo. We have to stop him.”

“You heard your partner. I nearly got you killed tonight. I’m staying out of it.”

My career as a rogue hero was over. I’d done more damage than good. Gideon and Agent Silva could take Theo down themselves. Maybe they’d nab Nicky at the same time. Whatever they did, it was out of my hands. And probably for the best. If the HQ caught wind of my involvement, they’d hunt me down and punish me for not going after Nicky.

The thought of the HQ and their brand of revenge made my heart race in terror. I hadn’t even considered before now how my involvement could tip them off to my location. Harpies had a unique idea of punishment. There were no hangings, no electric chair, no firing squad. No, the HQ liked to imprison their targets in tiny little cells and let them starve to death. It was slow. It was painful. It was what they called justice.

Gideon blew out a loud breath and held his ground. “I don’t care what Rita says, we need your help.”

He wasn’t budging, so I turned down the next hall.

He followed close behind. “You’re the only one with visions and a connection with Nicolo Harris. That has to count for something.”

I stopped midstride, shaking my head. “I’ve already stuck my neck out there enough for you, Agent Ward. And now, either my brother will come after me, or the HQ will find out where I am. Neither option leaves me alive at the end of the story.”

“Trust me.” He clenched his hands into fists and then relaxed them. “Trust me,” he said again in a quieter tone. “I can protect you.”

“No, no you can’t.”

A deep and heavy sleepiness came over me at that moment. I turned back to the apartment, ready to sink into my bed, whether Agent Silva had left or not. Gideon didn’t follow. He still stood in the hall, staring at the ragged grey carpet, when I closed the apartment door behind me.

Chapter Eleven

I held up the gnarled claw for all the guests to see. Five of them had gathered around me, eager to see the mummified ashy-colored flesh, with long sharpened fingernails.

“And here, we have the claw of Der schwarze Mann. The Schwarze Mann is a creature based in Germany. He gets his name from the black places he likes to hide in. A shadowy forest. A creepy abandoned house. Or in the dark, under a child’s bed.”

A collective shudder went through my audience.

I hid my smile and continued. “The tough thing about hunting the Schwarze Mann is that only children can spot them. Their innocent eyes can pick up the supernatural elements of our world, you see. So, how do you think we got this claw?”

While waiting for someone to guess, I saw Gideon enter the museum. He was back in his suit, tie and all. He spotted me right away and headed to the counter. Angel was there, so they struck up a conversation, glancing at me every so often.

“No guesses?” I returned my attention to the guests. “Well, it so happened that in 1903, a little German girl had one living under her bed. He’d taken up residence there one cold winter’s night. Luckily for her, she had a daddy who was adamant about teaching his eight-year-old how to defend herself. That little girl took her daddy’s shotgun and blasted the Schwarze Mann away with one shot. The whole family came running into her room, worried she’d killed herself, and instead, they found this creature dead under her bed. Quite an amazing story.”

I gently placed the claw back on its stand and moved out of the way for the guests to get a closer look. They crowded around the glass case, gawking at the gruesome token. It was days like this that I really loved my job. The gruesome and enchanting tales behind the objects in this tiny museum each held a place in my heart. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing a single object – not even Roni. I knew each of their stories by heart. They were like weird and violent children to me.

Gideon was leaning up against the counter when I approached him. He had the whole suave look going on. His suit jacket was undone, and his elbows rested behind him on the counter. He’d shaved that morning and the scent of aftershave still lingered in the air around him.

I took a deep breath and leaned against the counter next to him. We hadn’t left on the best of terms. I had no idea how he’d act.

“Morning,” he said. A toothpick dangled between his lips. “I don’t suppose you hate me right now?”

I sighed. As much as I’d tried to hate him last night, I couldn’t. “No. Not yet, anyway.”

A smile pulled at the sides of his mouth. He stepped away from the counter and faced me. “I’m sorry about pushing you last night. It wasn’t fair of me to involve a civilian in my investigation, but I was desperate for a lead.”

Nodding, I turned toward him. “I know. I’m sorry for freaking out. I do care what happens to Michelle and Kit.”


Tags: Lacy Andersen Aya Harris Collection Paranormal