“Of my father’s Fade Ceremony,” Boone filled in. “That’s why you were so upset.”
“To lose her as well. It was almost too much.”
Outside the mansion, the storm surged with a gale-force gust, the lights flickering and going out. But just as Boone was thinking about finding a candelabra, the electricity came back on.
Rochelle put her hand over her heart. “When I heard about Mai, I didn’t know what to do. Who to talk to. I didn’t know whether the deaths were connected, although—”
“They were,” Boone said. “And it has to be the same male who was stalking you. There are too many connections.”
“That’s what my intuition tells me. Two deaths, in the same place, so close together? But I hesitated to come forward because I’d kept everything with Isobel a secret. I was stewing over it all when I saw the posting the Brotherhood put out on social media—and that’s when I got your direct message.” After she nodded to Helania, she looked again in Boone’s direction. “I texted you last night to come see you so we could talk it all out and figure out what to do.”
“We were at the training center. I meant to text you back, I’m so sorry.”
“We’re here now, it’s okay. And you tell me they found out who it was?”
Boone nodded. “He’s one of the fighters who works with the Brotherhood. He has a history of stalking and killing females.”
“So he must have found Mai and Isobel through me? But how did he find me, and why am I important?”
“He went to Pyre. Just like you did. He must have started following you because of that.”
“I guess that was the connection. So am I next?”
Before he could answer, she got a distant look on her face, and Boone frowned. “What else?”
“Well, it’s about Mai.” Rochelle took a deep breath and glanced at Helania. “I think she might have had contact with him. By phone.”
“How so?” Boone said.
“After Isobel’s death, Mai moved into my house on Macon Avenue. She said she needed a place to stay, but I think she was just worried about me, and I’d taken to spending a lot of the days there. I mean, I was crying at the drop of the hat, and I couldn’t explain to my parents why, you know? They’re good people, but they’re totally traditional. Anyway, over the last week or two, I could hear Mai arguing with someone on the phone during the day, her voice raised. Whenever I asked her what was wrong, she wouldn’t tell me. It was clear, though, that she was very upset. Maybe it was that male.”
“Syn has a cell phone for sure. And with the kind of reach the Brotherhood has? He could have found her contact information through a species database or something.”
“That must be how it happened.” Rochelle looked at Helania. “I go out and visit Isobel at her grave. Do you?”
“Yes, absolutely.” Helania frowned. “And you know, I kept all of her things. Would you like to come to my apartment and see them? Maybe you would like some?”
“You would do that?” Rochelle said in a choked voice. “Give . . . some to me?”
“Yes.” Helania smiled. “I am absolutely sure that that is what she would have wanted.”
“When can we go there?”
Helania glanced at Boone. “We’re headed back to my apartment now. Come with us. And we can update the Brotherhood from there if you like. You’d certainly have more privacy.”
Boone got to his feet and brushed off his leathers. Bending down, he picked up the tray. “We have a plan. I’ve just got to get a change of clothes and some books, and we’re out of here.”
Rochelle’s expression warmed. “Are you two moving in together?”
“Ah, kind of,” Boone said as Helania stayed silent.
“Well, I’m happy for you both.”
“Thanks, friend.” He nodded at the tray. “I’ll be right back.”
As he took his leave, he heard the females start talking about Isobel, and was aware of being sad he’d never meet Helania’s sister . . . and Rochelle’s great love.
She must have been a helluva good person, he thought.
Back in the kitchen, he dumped everything on the tray in the trash and told Thomat to have someone clean up the floor in a little bit—he wanted to give his two females a little more time to themselves. Then he went back through the pantry and paused in the open door to Marquist’s former suite.