Page 21 of The Elementalist
Lord help me, but the wordsmittenrolled across my mind.
“How are you holding up?” I asked, surprised I only stumbled slightly over my words. Schoolboy crush indeed.
“I’m holding up… I guess about as well as anyone can be after what happened. Have you learned anything yet about Dana’s death?”
While I contemplated how, exactly, to answer her question, the coffee maker quit percolating, thus buying me a little time. I remembered how she liked her coffee the last time and, without asking her if she wanted a cup, made her one and brought it over.
“Two sugars and cream,” I said.
“You remembered,” she said, both eyebrows up.
“Here at Long Investigations, customer service is our top priority.”
She smiled and sipped her coffee, making a face as if she enjoyed it. I enjoyed that she seemed to enjoy it.
Settle down, partner, I thought.
“About your sister,” I said, still not sure of the direction I should take.
“You’ve discovered something.” She set her coffee down and leaned forward. I had her full, unwavering, and perfect attention.
Lord help me.
Of course, by admitting exactlywhatI had discovered—that her sister had likely been killed by a vampire—I would also be admitting that the events of the past few days were not part of one long, drug-filled (even though I don’t take drugs) hallucinogenic dream. No, I hadn’t quite abandoned enough sanity to be willing to admit that yet. And definitely not to her. I needed to believe it all myself first. But how could I look this woman in her lovely, hypnotic eyes and lie to her?
I considered my options, then decided to pass the buck. “You’re right, the police didn’t investigate very deep into the attack. They saw—or wanted to see—‘animal attack’ and stopped the investigation right there.”
“It was no animal, Mr. Long.”
“I believe you,” I said.
“Dana and Luke were being followed. Hunted. And not by an animal.”
A chill swept over me as I recalled the autopsy photos. I prayed Crystal hadn’t seen them. No sibling should have to see their sister’s throat torn out. My God, the savagery. Had the bastard who’d shown up at my office done that? Sweet mama. If so, he was a killer through and through. And what would he have done to me had I gone down there to answer the door?
Well, he would have killed me, perhaps in a similar manner.
So why didn’t I worry about being in my office now? Well, for one, it was late morning with a lot of sunlight out. And two... well, I wasn’t so helpless now, was I?
No, very much not.
Dreaming, I thought. Not real. Refuse to believe. Head in sand.
Except here sat a woman—and not just any woman, but one causing a bio-physical reaction within me—openly crying angry tears, confused and needing answers. Answers I might actually have.
Time to take my head out of the sand.
Time to help.
Time to do my damn job.
Crystal waited expectantly for my answer with tears pooling upon her high cheekbones.
I opened my palm and summoned a small wind. A zephyr, I believe they called it.
It appeared instantly, ruffling her hair and the papers along my desk, small enough not to cause any alarm, although she shivered and rubbed her bare arms.
It’s official, I thought, sighing. I’m a freak. She looked around, no doubt in search of the air vent responsible, then gave me the most curious of looks. I had a feeling she realized exactly what I’d done.
