“You know I loved him like a brother.”
She was in the midst of a nightmare, but she was truly awake.
Shade, her twin, her other half, was gone.
Ethan let her cry until there were no more tears. Until her eyelids were so swollen she could hardly see. Then he led her to the living room where he sat her down in a chair and found a box of tissues so she could get herself together.
He waited for her to ask, “Wh-what happened?”
“Shade was a hero again tonight. He was shot saving a woman’s life.”
“Who?”
“Her name is Elizabeth Reyes.” Ethan shook his head. “I don’t know why, just that he was on her porch waiting to talk to her when she came home around midnight. She took the first bullet before Shade pushed her out of harm’s way.”
Skye tried to take it all in. “He was on the job, then. Alone.” Shade never worked without backup that she knew.
“Apparently. He didn’t confide in me. Not in a while.”
Shade had been acting odd lately. Secretive. Argumentative.
“And he was shot saving her?”
“Right. She said they’d hardly spoken for a minute before the first shot rang out. She was winged as he pushed her out of the way and took a bullet himself.”
“One bullet? That’s all it took to kill him?”
He nodded. “I’m sorry to have to tell you he was shot in the head.”
“Oh, my God.”
The last thing she had done was to turn her back on her brother.
To never see him alive again.
She had to live with that.
Forever.
Chapter Six
Her brother was buried on a day with no sun. Appropriate, for she felt the sun had been snuffed out of her life.
The mournful sound of bagpipes made her chest squeeze tighter.
Literally more than a thousand people had shown up at the cemetery, as they always did when one of their own was murdered on the job. In addition to the Chicago Police Department chiefs, the mayor, and other local and state politicians, there were the uniforms, mostly from Chicago, but many from the suburbs and neighboring cities and states, some from as far away as Minneapolis and Florida and New York.
Facing tragedy, they were all so stoic.
She remained outwardly stoic, too.
His graying red hair perfectly groomed around his florid face, Dad was surrounded by men in uniform at the other end of the coffin, including Shade’s partner, Ethan, and his lieutenant, Ryan Connelly. Dad kept looking at her. Any weakness on her part would reflect badly on him, so she choked back her tears.
She wanted to pull Shade’s body from the coffin and somehow breathe life back into him. Then she could tell him she was sorry she’d told him to leave her alone.
But there was no going back. No do-over. No chance for forgiveness.
The rustle and chirps of live things around her reflected her anguish. Always drawn to her, animals commiserated. A squirrel within yards of her sat up, bushy tail twitching, staring at her with beady dark eyes. It chattered, sorrow evident in the pitch of its gunfire clicks and clacks. Its little heart thumping double time, a frog croaked its way toward her from the nearby pond. A flock of sparrows flew over her head, ruffling her hair before ascending on the gravesite in formation as precise as an honor guard.
She somehow held it together. The wind soughed along the headstones and drizzle splattered the graveyard.
“Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord.” Though his skin was leathery, his white hair thinning, Father Costa had a strong, vibrant voice that carried across the cemetery. “And let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace.”
A weird sensation suddenly buzzed her. She started. It felt as if someone or some thing was trying to get inside her mind. Not an animal. Animals were open. This felt furtive. She shook off the creepy feeling and scanned the graveyard around her. All eyes were glued to the scene at the coffin.
Except...
She felt more than saw him. Like a dark wraith, he hovered in the distance, near-hidden in a stand of trees at one corner of the cemetery. He wore no uniform. No suit. His shirt and pants were as black as the hair that whipped along his shoulders, his face pale in contrast.
Her knees bobbled as she recognized him, and she had to catch herself from collapsing.
The man who’d controlled the predators at the fight the other night was here.
Her pulse thrummed.
Who was he, and why had he shown up at Shade’s funeral?
Remembering the mutual dislike so evident between the stranger and her brother, she wondered if he’d had something to do with Shade’s death.
She blinked, and as suddenly as she’d become aware of him, he was gone. Exactly the same way he’d disappeared outside the fight arena.
A lone bugler played “Taps”. She tore her gaze back to the burial. Seven officers stepped forward, each firing three rounds. A twenty-one-gun salute to honor a fallen hero. Twenty-one wounds cut through her, and it took all the strength she had left not to fall to her knees in surrender.
Connected in a way that most people wouldn’t understand, Shade and she had been two parts of a whole. Dad didn’t understand. Shade had been able to read people, the reason he’d become a cop, rescuing people. She’d always been connected to animals, the reason she worked as an animal rescuer. Even with their differences, Shade and she had always been in psychic sync. Although something had been off between them for a few days before his death.
And then a single shot to the head had ended her brother’s life.
Had ended her.
She wanted to weep again, but her eyes burned and remained dry as the flag that had draped the coffin was folded precisely into a triangle and handed to her father.
Her best friend and business partner Phoebe Hunt stepped up to hug her. Today her blue-black hair was braided in cornrows and cut with streaks the same purple as her summer sweater and slacks.
“Anything you need.”
“I know. Thanks.”
Phoebe’s deep brown eyes were watery and the tip of her broad nose was wet. She’d always crushed on Shade.
“Don’t worry about the shop,” Phoebe said. “I’ll take care of everything,” she promised. “Take as long as you need.”
She nodded.
The mourners dispersed. Lieutenant Connelly led many of the uniforms to their vehicles. They would head for a local bar.
“We should get going,” Dad said, a whiff of whiskey on his breath.
“I can’t face all those people. You go on.” She thought he looked commanding in his dress blues, no emotions apparent except his gloved hands clenching and unclenching the folded flag. She brushed nonexistent lint from his jacket, her futile attempt at getting closer. “I want to stay to say good-bye.”
“I can wait for you,” a deep voice came from behind her. “Shade wouldn’t want you to be alone today.”
She turned to Ethan, who’d been far more than Shade’s partner. They’d been best friends, as close as brothers. He appeared nearly as devastated as she felt.
“Thanks, but I’m fine.”
“I don’t mind waiting.”
His voice was as pinched as his ruggedly handsome face. His pale brown eyes had darkened with grief. She felt his pain.