Page 145 of Visions of Darkness

My nod was frantic, and I hurried to type in another search.

Charles Lewis, mural artist, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

It populated with a Wikipedia entry at the top.

Charles Lewis was an American painter.

Born:April 23, 1960, in Pendleton, South Carolina

Died:September 2, 1998, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

Known for:Painting

Spouse:Maria Watkins

Parents:Carl Lewis and Isabel Lewis

Charles Lewis was an artist in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He gained the interest of Pittsburgh locals when murals began to spring up around the city, though theartist remained elusive. Lewis remained unknown for nearly a decade until his identity was discovered while he painted a mural in an alley behind Omni William Penn Hotel. While Charles Lewis declined to take credit for the previous murals, sixteen of them were attributed to his distinct styling of lush landscapes that touched on fantastical elements. After the discovery of his identity, he was commissioned to paint three murals at Pittsburgh Children’s Center.

Lewis’s works were cut short when he was found dead of a gunshot wound at thirty-eight. His death was ruled foul play, though his killers were never brought to justice.

“Fuck, Aria,” Pax breathed, and I could feel the way his heart ravaged.

I knew exactly what he was thinking.

Exactly what he was adding up, just like me.

Three Laven. Three artists who couldn’t keep Tearsith from bleeding from their fingers. Two dubious deaths ...

“He was married to Maria,” I muttered as I tried to swallow around the lump in my throat. I looked at Pax, and he gave me a knowing nod.

The two of us in tune.

Barely able to breathe, I dialed the number Maria had left us and put it on speakerphone.

A crack ran down the middle of my heart, thinking of her loss, terrified but unable to stop my mind from spinning through a thousand assumptions.

I would be next.

It rang three times, and my eyes dropped closed in disappointment; then they flew back open when she answered, her voice wary, “Hello?”

“Maria?” I rasped.

Caution filled her tone. “Yes?”

My throat was raw. “My name is Aria. I was in the library a couple days ago.”

Silence pounded through the line before there was shuffling around, then the sound of a door clicking shut. “You were with another?”

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“Laven,” she whispered.

My heart seized. I couldn’t believe I was talking with someone who knew what we were. “I researched your husband. I’m so sorry.”

Sorrow infiltrated her voice. “He was my ultimate gift and my greatest loss.”

“You knew what he was?”

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