“To allow us to capture the rogue we’re after now,” Jonas told her. “We believe Douglas knows the identity of our rogue. When he learned of the killings, he became more determined than ever to escape, when he should have been eager to stay. After all, he’s the one the killer ultimately wants.”
“And how do you know this?” She pushed away from Cabal, her head turning to catch the expression of regret on his face before he wiped it away. “How do you know the killer is after Douglas?”
“We suspected when we learned he had contacted you,” Cabal answered. “We learned Watts was part of the Deadly Dozen years ago, but we’d never learned the identity of the others. That was information we were trying to get out of him when the killings began.”
“And after eleven years you still didn’t have that information?” She scoffed furiously. “Bullshit, Cabal. What were you doing, playing with him? Don’t tell me you couldn’t have learned what you wanted to know in this amount of time.”
“The truth serums we’ve developed couldn’t be used on him because of his weakened physical condition,” Jonas stated. “We didn’t want him dead, not quite yet. And he’d never fully recovered from that steel stake Cabal drove into his back.” A mocking quirk of his lips accompanied the statement.
“Do you have any suspects?” She had to stay focused. Cassa felt as though she were going to shake apart from the inside out. Anger and fear ate at her insides, tearing at them until she felt the raw, bleeding wounds in her soul. If she didn’t focus on something besides that pain, then she might not survive, she might not get out of this room before humiliating herself and breaking down entirely.
“As of now, we have no f**king clue.” Disgust flickered in his gaze and on his face.
Cassa believed him. Not that she wasn’t certain he would lie about it if he did have a suspect, but that flash of self-disgust and anger in his eyes convinced her that he truly didn’t know who the killer was.
“That’s why we allowed Watts to escape,” Cabal stated. “To draw the rogue out. If we watch Watts close enough, then we’ll be there when the killer goes for him.”
“And you’re certain he’s headed here?” she asked as she turned to her mate, to the man she had hoped would eventually love her. Now she wondered if she had a chance. If she had ever had a chance. She kept forgetting the fact that she had been involved with the most horrifying event of his life. The deaths of his family. And now she wouldn’t be the only one facing that past, he would be as well. And there was no way he couldn’t remember exactly the role she had played.
She had allowed Douglas in. She had been the reason he had the information, she had given him the chance to sell the information on the rescue of that facility. Because of her, Cabal had lost so much.
“Positive.” Cabal nodded as he broke into her thoughts. “But he’s not coming for a killer, Cassa. Watts is coming for you.”
CHAPTER 21
Death watched; Death stalked. But as Death sat in the woods across from the inn and watched the shuttered windows, there was an edge of weariness that crept through the mind and through the soul.
Blood stained not just the hands, but the soul as well.
“He escaped.” Myron James sat to the side, and in his voice Death heard the same weariness, the same old bitterness. “He’s on his way here.”
Of course Watts was on his way here. It was here that it had all begun, here that the Reaper had had his greatest triumph.
Three women. Three beautiful women that had been destroyed by his evil.
“Cabal’s going to try to stand in our way,” Death informed the other man. “He’ll keep guard over the reporter, that’s going to throw a wrench in it.”
“Not if we draw her away from him.” Sheriff Danna Lacey’s voice was fraught with agony.
God, so much pain. It beat at him, tore into the center of his being and lashed at the animal he had always kept careful control of.
Drawing Cassa Hawkins away from her mate wouldn’t be that easy. The animal known as Death knew this. The man, the man understood it, regretted it.
Suddenly, there was so much regret. So much blood scenting his entire body that sometimes he wondered if there was a way to survive the fallout.
Watts would be dead soon, he would make certain of it. There was nothing left to live for except the executions to come. There was no reason to worry about a future or roads not taken. There was only this, only Death.
“She’s not to be hurt.” He hardened his voice, injected the steel needed to ensure that his orders were carried out.
“Since when do we care about her?” Danna was the only one foolish enough to question him. “She came here. She made the decision to place herself in danger.”
“Because we drew her here.” He straightened from his crouch, his eyes still on the inn.
He could sense the four men inside, plotting, maneuvering to learn who he was. He was a dead man. He was Death. He would remain the shadow they could never identify, his life depended on it.
“Are you certain the Coyotes that rescued him will keep us apprised of his location?” Myron straightened as well, his voice rough with his own memories, his own pain.
“They know the cost if they don’t.” Death shrugged. “Either way, Watts will die, even if I have to go hunting myself.”