Page 40 of Lovely Violent Things

Discussing the details means she’ll be forced to think about the victims, about her belief I’m the killer. About Wellington, and the memories she’s suppressing.

“I know you probably tried to include your knowledge in your profile,” I say, not trying to hide my deliberate baiting. “Where it was shot down, or ignored. No one else will understand the way I will, Halen. Pour your bleeding little profiler heart out to me.”

She shakes her head. “Atropos is one of the Fates. She was the Moirai who cut the threads of life, bringing death. Lachesis measured the threads. And Styx is the river of the dead.”

“But the genus Acherontia atropos was first derived—”

“From the Acheron river,” she says, halting to turn my way. “Which denotes the underworld. Yes, I know. Thank you, professor, but I’ve done my research. In essence, it’s not the labels of the Fates as to why the Acherontia moths are considered omens of death.”

Her heated, sultry gaze narrows on me, and I could eat her alive right now.

“Your extensive knowledge on the moth isn’t incriminating at all,” she intones with the perfect amount of sarcasm.

I curb my smile. “You put me away for six months. I had ample time to research myself.”

“What is it that you’re dying to tell me that you think I don’t know, Kallum.”

I wet my lips and take a step in her direction. “The moth is attracted to sweet things.” My gaze drags over her as I inhale a deep breath to pull her into my lungs. “Itlovessweet things.”

She says nothing, but I notice the way her swallow travels along her throat.

“They can mimic a honeybee to invade hives undetected. As they imitate the scent of the bees, they blend right in, and if they’re discovered, the moth has this thick epidermis to protect it from stings.” I let the sounds of the marsh fill the silence before I say, “It’s got damn thick skin to shelter itself from pain.”

“And the moth is nocturnal. Rarely seen because it appears late at night. It chirps if irritated, and likes to lay eggs in nightshade.” She adjusts her hold on her bag handle and exhales. “What is your point with all this?”

“Just that I find it interesting, little Halen, that you’re far more connected to the moth than me in attributes.”

Her gaze tapers further. “I never know whether you’re trying to tell me something, or derail me off a lead.”

I glance back in the direction of the ravine. “You picked up on something back there,” I say.

“You’re way too attuned to me,” she accuses. “You should be focused on the case.”

“Now who’s derailing?”

Blatantly ignoring my remark, she starts in the direction out of the marsh again. “If the offender is using the Harbinger to his advantage, then yes, I’ve considered he’s had to research the case, to learn what I know. And in doing so, the Harbinger could become a part of the Overman’s delusion, even a part of his path to ascension.”

A full smile tugs at my mouth. “I should really stop mocking psychology,” I say, peeking over at her. But it’s not psychology or profiling or anything else—it’s her. She’s the seer. “If the offender believes what you do and thinks I’m the actual killer, that makes me a bad omen for the Overman. You really should usemetoyouradvantage.”

She expels a breath. “This whole town is a bad omen. You’re just one more evil thing.”

“That’s a bit scary then,” I say. At the divot forming in her quizzical expression, I add, “That I might be the only one here you can trust,sweetness.”

We walk in silence through the marsh, and I feel the press of Halen’s deep thoughts. Before we reach the path to lead us to where the black SUV waits, Halen turns her gaze on me. “For the record, you bear more attributes to the moth than me, Kallum.”

“Hmm. I do love sweet things.” I send her a wink.

9

EKSTASIS

HALEN

Everything has an anatomy. Humans have this inherent need to break down even the most mundane objects in order to explain their existence. For instance, the empty space between the flame and wick on a candle is called the dark zone. The void that draws the eye despite the luminous flame.

I think it’s in our nature to seek out the darkest aspect. Our desire to fill that negative space.

Or maybe it’s our primitive warning system; the beautiful, dancing flicker will burn if we get too close.

---