Home > Seeing Darkness (Krewe of Hunters #30)(5)

Seeing Darkness (Krewe of Hunters #30)(5)
Author: Heather Graham

   “Ah, well. Congratulations,” he told Corrine, who smiled and nodded her thanks. “But I do give an amazing ghost tour—chock-full of history. Which you guys probably already know. But I tell it well, if you should change your mind or maybe tomorrow night or whenever.”

   “We love ghost tours. And we will look for you tomorrow night,” Jenny assured him.

   “Great. See you then,” he told them, and moved on. He headed back to the bar, where, obviously, the bartender and several regulars seemed to know him.

   “Slow to take a hint,” Corrine murmured.

   “Hey, he’s cute,” Jenny protested. “You’re getting married. That’s not on the horizon for the rest of us yet.”

   “Ouch. And, hey! Nancy and Scott have been together a long time now,” Kylie said.

   “Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a handsome man,” Nancy said, grinning. “Besides, he was looking at you, Kylie.”

   She tried to smile; she still felt odd. She’d been trying to shake what had happened during her “regression” all afternoon.

   “She’s right. He is cute, and he was definitely into you, Kylie,” Corrine said.

   “He was into all of us,” Kylie said. “We’re women, and we’re young. Anyway, we’re here to celebrate our last time together as a foursome of single women. We’re here for Corrine to go crazy as a bride-to-be. So what if her crazy is a little tame. Past-life regression, shopping—museums! And dinner. And we’re all into it.” She grinned at Corrine.

   “You guys are the best,” Corrine told them. “Thank you for doing that regression thing. But...oh, Kylie. I’m still so sorry that yours was awful. Mine...my life under hypnosis was truly spectacular. I could feel the breeze and sunshine, and I knew I was hurrying to meet my love! But, Kylie, we were worried. Dr. Sayers tried to get you out—he counted and snapped his fingers, because you were literally screaming. It was really scary.”

   Kylie waved a dismissive hand. She just wanted to forget. “So what is everyone going to order?” she asked, turning to the menu.

   As the others discussed what looked most delicious, Kylie fell silent, her attention elsewhere. She stared at one of the wide-screen televisions over the bar. The news was on, and something inside her seemed to freeze.

   He was on the news.

   The man she had seen under hypnosis.

   The man viciously dragging her into the graveyard, the man who had shoved the knife into her, time and time again.

   Kylie stood, heedless of the looks from her friends. She approached the bar.

   On the television, the man was nicely dressed in a designer suit. His hair was conservatively cut and framed his face—a handsome face, lean, with broad cheekbones and a square chin.

   Kylie couldn’t hear the sound, but the words were close-captioned at the bottom of the screen.

   “I will serve Massachusetts—and this country—with my full heart, soul, and energy, all the power within me, if elected. I know what lies in the heart of my people, I know my people. I make a point of knowing my people. I like nothing more than taking to the streets to talk about the economy, gun control, foreign relations—anything and everything that matters, and we need to know what matters most to all of us. I am a family man. My wife and I know the trials and tribulations of raising children, and believe me, we are dedicated to improving our schools. Our schools must be safe.”

   Kylie quit reading and simply stared at him.

   “Kylie?” Matt, the charming bartender, said curiously.

   She barely heard him speak.

   She knew the face on the screen too damned well. She had seen how he looked when he was furious and determined; she had seen the pleasure he had taken in stabbing her over and over again.

   Corrine was behind her, truly concerned again. “Kylie, what...”

   Kylie shouldn’t say anything—she knew it. She was just so confused and unnerved. She turned to Corrine. “That’s him. That’s the man with the knife. The man who was...murdering me... I saw his face. I knew him. Corrine, I saw him so clearly!”

   “Him?” Corrine said. “Girl, where have you been? That’s Michael Westerly. He was a state senator. He’s campaigning to be a United States senator for Massachusetts.”

   Kylie wanted to laugh. She wanted to say something like, Of course it can’t be him, then, and go back to their table and talk with her friends and make Corrine happy.

   She couldn’t speak.

   “That’s it,” Corrine said. “You’ve seen his picture—you’ve seen him campaigning. And somehow, under hypnosis, you transferred that into...whatever it was you saw. Hey, come on. He’s even your political party!” Corrine tried to joke.

   Kylie felt weak; the sense of cold, of blood draining from her...of death seemed to be slipping over her again.

   “No! I saw him,” she said urgently. “He’s a murderer! He killed me...with the knife...”

   Corrine and the bartenders stared at her as if they needed to rush her to the nearest psych ward.

   Why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut? Why couldn’t she have been hypnotized to believe she had been a Regency heiress at the very least? Anything other than a victim, brutally stabbed to death.

   And now, just seeing the man and his easy smile, his assurance...the sensation was horrible. She fought it desperately.

   No good.

   She was going to fall, slip down to the floor, into pure black oblivion.

   Someone took hold of her.

   She turned; it was a man. When he touched her, her fear increased at first. It was him... Michael Westerly, the man who had murdered her!

   But it wasn’t. It was someone else entirely, someone she’d never seen before. Tall, strong in his hold, and somehow fierce. He had ice-blue eyes and dark hair.

   Something about him both scared and somehow assured her, even as he kept her from falling. He was good-looking, not quite as classic in his looks as the would-be senator. His jawline was rock hard and his look more rugged. His arms were powerful, as if he were half made of metal beneath the fabric of his dark suit.

   She didn’t like the way he was looking at her.

   He eased her onto one of the bar stools.

   “Oh my gosh, thank you,” Corrine said for her.

   Kylie still couldn’t speak. Those icy eyes of his seemed to be staring into her, into the place where she had been that day, somewhere in her soul, in a strange reality.

   “Murdered?” he said. “You appear to be alive and well to me, but what’s this about murder?”

   Corrine laughed nervously. “We did ‘regressions’ today and saw our past lives. It’s all just silly. But seriously, thank you. Kylie could have gotten hurt. She was a little freaked out. You know, the rest of us were all cool princesses or whatever, and Kylie was some poor woman who got murdered.”

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