“What was with the accent earlier?”
Well, shit. Hehadnoticed. I wasn’t sure how to handle this answer, so I just went with the truth.
“You know how I mentioned that there was a lot you didn’t know about my time with the family?” He nodded. “Well, when I left, I didn’t only change my name and my appearance. Because I was on TV and didn’t want to be found, I changed my voice, too. It’s the only way the public and the team know me. Or I supposeknewme since I’m going to have to tell them everything now. Though I will still have to keep up appearances for the show. It’d be really weird for that to change four seasons in.”
He just nodded slowly. “Do you think you might be able to tell me everything . . . someday?”
I didn’t miss the hopefulness of his tone and felt a kernel of desire to unburden myself rise within me in answer. “Maybe. Someday. But today isn’t that day.”
“I respect that. Drive safely, Lark. Have a great day.” He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, causing me to shiver, and then walked past me into the other room.
Lark.
Werewe friends again?
My heart yearned for the answer to be yes. But my head and my gut . . . they weren’t quite so sure. A small, desperate piece of me wanted to feel seen and safe again—especially with him. But I couldn’t let myself just go there. Not right now. My safety, and that of those I loved, still hung in the balance, and I couldn’t afford to let my guard down completely and give in to those feelings.
Not yet.
Chapter7
“Death is the greatest form of love.”
~Charles Manson
Lionel replayed the video his lieutenant had sent for the fifth time, taking in the details. Starling was indeed in New Orleans.
Lionel had sent several of his inner circle out to comb the city at different times of day, outfitting them with whatever they needed and providing them a digitally enhanced still image of how his little bird looked now.
He had a few addresses for places tied to members of the TV show’s cast and crew and had his people scoping them out and trolling the streets around them, hoping to catch her and figure out where she lived so he could plan his next move.
That was how Trent had picked up his little bird on her run this morning. He’d discreetly followed her through parks and down alleyways, getting it all on video for Lionel. Unfortunately, he’d lost her at one point and hadn’t been able to follow her back to her point of origin. With that said, Lionel still didn’t know where she lived. And that infuriated him. Now that he knew she was within reach, he didn’t want to waste any more time. He’d already lost nineteen years.
He’d find her, though. Soon. And then he’d have a nice, long chat with the one who’d flown the coop. She’d either give him what he wanted, what hedeservedas her prophet as a means to ensure her family’s salvation, or he’d end her. She didn’t deserve the kind of power she wielded. In the wrong hands, it was nothing but evil. Blasphemous rot. He’d dug out that infection in others of his flock and then cauterized the wounds. He’d do so again. Because in his hands, that power would be used for good—to ensure his people’s end-times survival.
Lionel took a long draw from his glass of vodka and pressed play again, watching her jog as if she hadn’t a care in the world. He shook his head, tapped pause, and ran his finger over her ponytail on the screen.
He was one step closer to caging her, and he wouldn’t stop until he had her in his grasp. Or, more accurately, until he had what he wanted.
Chapter8
~Larken ~
It was Sunday, and I had finally cleared my calendar. Today was about getting myself right and preparing for the investigation. I’d taken a ritual bath early this morning, cleansed my apartment and reset my crystals, did an extra-long meditation session, refreshed my altar, and was now making sure all my equipment was charged and in tip-top shape. I wouldn’t need it right away since we had the preliminaries to take care of, but it’d been out of commission for long enough that I wanted to ensure everything was still working as it should. Thankfully, we had an entire beyond-the-veil team who was more than willing to help.
I called in Wren and Findley, Dev’s deceased sister and her man—two of the original members of our ghost crew. They answered immediately, chattering in my head and asking how I’d been. We chatted briefly, and then I told them what I needed. Once I’d tested my Handycam, the EMF detector and SLS camera, my recorder, and my personal spirit box, I felt we were good to go. I thanked them, told them we’d chat more later, and then moved on to cooking lunch.
As I ate, I thought about the things that’d come up during my meditation. One of the major points was when to tell the team my story and explain my subterfuge these last three-plus years. I was pretty sure I had to do it soon—and the sooner, the better. Given that we were starting things for the steamboat house investigation tomorrow, I figured I’d better see if everyone could gather today. Dev had mentioned it anyway.
I pulled up the group chat on my phone and sent off a text.
Me: Hey, gang. So excited to see you all. Is there any way we can meet at HQ today at some point?
Dev: I was actually thinking that might be a good idea, too, since we’ve been off for so long. Hanlen and I are free.
Sky: Pax and I can be there. What time?
Aaron: Missed you kids. James is sitting here with me right now, and we’re both in. Just tell us when to jet.