Page 51 of Lovely Violent Things

I clamp my hands around her waist and haul her off the table, where I lower to my haunches and slide her jeans up her legs, then stand to drop a tender kiss to her lips. “Time’s up.”

Her gaze fuses to mine. “You have an alibi,” she says.

She’s not talking about the weak alibi I orchestrated the night of the ritual by leaving my ankle monitor in the hotel room.

I cock my head, realizing she’s willing to confess that we were together. “Not for the entire night,” I say.

And there in the depths of her wide, hazel eyes is the glimmer of doubt.

The knock sounds again, followed by Agent Hernandez announcing his entrance. He regards us quickly and clears his throat. “A knife was recovered in the bed of deer remains. That’s what Agent Alister is trying to keep out of the press until it’s been processed. He doesn’t want to spook the perpetrator.”

I comb my fingers through my disheveled hair from where Halen clawed her little nails.

I don’t have to say aloud what Halen and I both know.

There’s no chance the offender will be scared away. The discovery of the knife was every bit the design of the Overman.

“There’s more,” Hernandez says. “The antlers that were removed from the vic at the hunting grounds crime scene? They also turned up in the ravine.”

“Well, that’s convenient,” I say.

Halen pushes past me. “Thank you, Agent Hernandez.” Paused at the door, she glances back once. “We need to leave.”

We pass officers stationed at posts along the corridors as they keep loitering members of the press contained in one area of the building. A thick veil of silence descends as we enter the parking lot. The sky has darkened, the tranquil evening deceptively concealing the chaos that will ensue come light.

As Hernandez unlocks the SUV, Halen stops short of the vehicle. “Dammit,” she breathes. “I forgot something in the interrogation room.”

I lean down close to her ear. “I have your panties in my pocket.”

The incredulous look she sends me is cute. “My phone, Kallum. It must have fallen out of my jeans.”

I glance back at the building. “I’ll come with you.”

“No.” She holds up a hand. “Just… I’ll be quicker on my own if you’re not tempted to get…sidetracked.” A pretty flush tints her cheeks. “Wait here with Agent Hernandez.”

I watch Halen walk away from me, her steps hurried, the impression of her phone outlined in her back pocket.

I spin the ring around my thumb. One…two…three times.

Three is the divine number. It’s why the Overman references this number in rituals. Three pairs of thirty-three eyes on three trees. Three symbols for the path to ascension. Three tributes to master and obtain their goal.

It’s always three.

Yet the obvious flaw in their design is the first symbol, the philosopher’s stone—the one that stands apart.

One is a conundrum. Strong in its singularity, yet vulnerable for the very same reason.

Just as my little Halen is right now.

Hernandez sidles up beside me, his arms crossed in mirrored stature. “You’re not going to listen to her, are you.”

I slide a look at the agent. “What do you think.”

11

VIOLENCE OF THE STARS

HALEN

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