Obsession

Obsession Page 3

Oh God… I shuddered and reached for the plastic cup of water.

Gulping it down, it did nothing to get rid of the metallic taste in the back of my throat. Taking a deep breath, I looked up and met the aging detective’s eyes.

“I’m telling you, the man blew up her car. I don’t know how he did it, but he did.

And before that, Mel…” I pressed my lips together.

“Mel was afraid.”

“And you’re saying that she was afraid of Senator Vanderson’s sons?”

A dubious look crossed his heavy face. “That she witnessed him doing something abnormal that morning. Can you tell me exactly what she told you?”

I stared at him, furious that they were making me go through all of this again.

Like they were trying to catch me in a lie, which was insane, because who would make something like this up?

I sat back, thrusting my hands through my hair. The only thing keeping me here was the hope that I could somehow help find the people responsible for Mel’s death.

I had overheard the officers earlier, when they’d left the door cracked open. There had only been pieces of Mel left. That was it. An entire life reduced to pieces.

Sick to my stomach, I told the detective everything Mel had told me, adding in the panicked phone calls and how nervous she’d been at the bar.

“I’m a guidance counselor at the high school—”

“You don’t look old enough.” His bushy brows furrowed.

“I graduated two years ago and I’ve been working at the school for about a year,” I explained tiredly. “I know this sounds crazy, but I’m telling you the truth.”

“I believe you,” he said, and surprise shot through me like an arrow. He rose, picking up his notepad. “I believe that you’re sincerely convinced of what you saw and I want to help you. And I’m going to help you, but maybe after a few days, when everything has had a chance to sink in, you’ll be able to think about things more clearly.”

Anger tore through me like a barb-tipped chain. I shot from the chair, surprised that I could even move that fast after everything, but fury gave back some of my waning strength. “What I’m telling you isn’t going to change! No matter how many days have passed.”

Ignoring the outburst, he gestured for me to sit. “It’s just going to be a few more minutes and we’ll have an officer take you home, okay? The garage is still shut down. We hope to be able to let people reclaim their vehicles in the next day or so.”

A burst of defiance hit me and I briefly considered bum-rushing the out-of-shape detective.

There was a good chance I could take him, but the urge seeped out of me like air leaking from a balloon. I collapsed on the chair, too angry and too tired.

The detective stopped at the door, frowning. “I do have one more question for you, Miss Cross.”

I glanced at him, doubting it would be anything relevant.

“You mentioned a name —started with a D? Did your friend say anything else about that?”

“You mean the Daedalus?”

When the detective nodded, my shoulders slumped. “She said something about that and Project or Operation Eagle, but I don’t remember… I don’t think so. When can I leave?”

Detective Jones stared at me hard for a moment and then forced a tight- lipped smile. “It will only be a few more minutes.”

He left, closing the gray door behind him. In the silence that followed, I almost broke.

Using whatever strength I had left, I closed my eyes and started counting back from one hundred. Losing it here wouldn’t help my cause. The officers already thought I had a screw loose. By the time I reached thirty, I opened my eyes. They stung.

Reaching for the purse I’d been lucky to find in all the chaos, I dug out my cell.

Tapping on the screen, I realized that the thing was dead. Couldn’t have been the battery because I had charged it earlier at work. I tossed it back in the bag with a sigh.

Time crept by and I was tortured by a thousand what-ifs. What if I took Mel more seriously? What if we had stayed in the bar?

What if I insisted Mel ride with me? Sitting up, I smoothed my hands down my face. Pressure built in my chest, ripping open old wounds from when Mom had been murdered for the twenty dollars that she carried in her purse, and slicing deep, fresh ones.

The door opened and I jumped a little in my seat. I expected either the officers who had responded to the garage or the detective, but I didn’t recognize the two men who walked in.

Both were dressed in black suits. The first one was older, his face heavily lined and pockmarked.

Patches of gray colored his temples. The one behind him was younger, baby faced, and probably no more than a few years older than me.

“Miss Cross?” The older officer spoke first, pulling a badge out from the breast of his jacket, flashing it quickly.

“My name is Officer Zombro.

We’re from Homeland Security.”

I sat a little straighter, but wasn’t surprised. Cars blowing up usually brought out the feds.

Officer Zombro sat in the seat the detective had kept warm. “I know you’re really tired and this has been a long, terrible night, but we’re going to need to take a few more minutes of your time, and then we’re going to take you home.

Okay?”

I wilted in the uncomfortable metal chair, but nodded.

The younger officer strode around the table, sitting on the edge closest to me. He smiled, and the skin around his eyes crinkled. “My name is Jonathan Richards.

My partner and I would like to express our sincerest sympathies for the loss of your friend tonight.”

“Thank you.” I choked on the words.

The smile was compassionate, but never quite reaching his eyes.

Probably due to the job.

How many times have they sat in a room like this, speaking to a witness of a horrific crime?

“And we know you’ve been over the events of tonight many times, but we really need you to do it again.”

The somber expression on Officer Zombro’s face hadn’t changed from the moment he walked in. “We like to hear things firsthand.”

I sat back in the chair, eyes cast down. I didn’t even protest. The sooner I got this over with, the quicker I could get out of the stale air that smelled of burned coffee. I repeated the events for the umpteenth time.

“Did your friend have a close relationship with Phillip Vanderson?” asked Officer Richards.

I wondered if casual sex was considered a close relationship. “They’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks. She didn’t really know him before then. I mean, everyone knew who he and his brother were, but we didn’t run in the same circles growing up. Phillip and Elijah went to a private school and…” I trailed off.

None of that mattered.

Richards nodded reassuringly.

“And she never stated anything before tonight? Mentioned anything out of the norm?”

I shook my head. “Today was the first, but she knew I didn’t approve of the…uh, relationship. The brothers have a reputation around here.”

Both of the officers seemed to be aware of their rough and rowdy playboy ways because they didn’t press the issue.

Zombro leaned forward, dropping his elbows on his bent knees. “She said the brothers were arguing, and then she saw Phillip start to…glow?”

Hearing it didn’t make it sound any less crazy than saying it. “I didn’t believe her, but then I saw the guy in the garage and what he did.”

They asked a couple more questions about what I’d seen in the garage, routine questions that had already been asked, but they kept going back to the senator. Enough times that I started to wonder if they were at least thinking that the boys had something to do with what happened.

When the questions finally wound down, another hour and a half had passed and the black and white clock on the wall showed that it was past one in the morning.

“Do you have any idea what your friend believed she saw on Phillip’s balcony this morning?”

Zombro asked.

The question took me off guard. “She didn’t know, but she said…but she said he couldn’t be human.”

“And what do you think you saw in the garage tonight?” the other officer asked.

I met his gaze, too drained to even feel embarrassed about what came out of my mouth next. “No human could’ve done what I saw.”

“Okay,”

the younger officer said. “We may need to question you again, Miss Cross, but that should be all for tonight.”

The two officers rose, gesturing for me to do the same. I climbed to my feet, swaying a little. The younger officer caught me by the elbow and I murmured my thanks.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he said.

I stared at the officers, knowing that they were telling me that just to put me at ease. Everything wasn’t all right. It would never be okay.

Chapter 3

Fucking humans and their overpopulated, congested, and noisy cities fell into the top ten things that pissed me off.

Sitting back in the shadowy corner seat at the one-step-away-from-a-dive- Fast Times, I watched the humans scurry from the bar to their table. For it being what was considered a work night, I wondered how many of them would stumble out into the late-night traffic, ending their insignificant, worthless lives.

Damn, that was dark even for me.

I was in a bad mood.

I hated cities, especially ones that hid a population of my enemy. As I scanned the crowd, a few caught my eye. A slow, cold smile pulled at my lips as the back of my throat suddenly spasmed.

My eyes were sensitive.

Every living creature threw off wavelengths. To the Arum, the energy looked like auras, shifting colors depending on the mood or emotion feeding the energy. Humans usually only displayed one color at a time. Luxen were like fucking happy, happy rainbows. It was why we could pick out a Luxen the moment we landed eyes on them, unless there was nearby beta quartz. The crystal distorted Luxen wavelengths, normalizing them until they blended in with the humans.

I didn’t pick up any difference in the wavelengths that surrounded the three college-aged men slamming down beer at the table, but I wasn’t stupid.

They could take their beta quartz and shove it up their fucking asses.

Luxen stood out among humans, rainbow energy wavelengths or not.

It was more than the fact they were taller than the average human or their flawless pretty-boy looks, it was the way they carried themselves, even when they were drunk. An air of arrogance surrounded them, of superiority that could not be mimicked by a human, because when they were among the Homo sapiens, the Luxen were a superior race.

But the three little punks at the table nearest the bar didn’t know I was there, and my presence knocked them right off the top of the food chain. Courtesy of the opal-encased tracker anklet under my boots, my true nature would remain unknown to the Luxen.

Taking a swig of the beer, I watched the Luxen stagger past me. One stopped, eyes narrowing into slits.

He must’ve sensed something, but then he followed his buddies out into the night.

The door swung shut, pushing the faint smell of burned metal into the bar.