Page 13 of Darkest Before Dawn (His Perfect Darkness #2)

I nara

The closer I get to New Rome, the more I sense the darkness waiting for me. The pressure is like an oppressive blanket coating my senses.

The killer is waiting for me.

For the longest time, the car races at record speeds along a narrow tunnel. When it emerges, I’m in the warehouse district north of the city center. Dawn is breaking.

I made record time. Rex must have had a secret tunnel built connecting his mansion and the city for his own personal use. Because, of course, he did.

I reprogram the car to swing by my townhouse first. The Bondage Killer delivered the letters there. I want to see what my senses pick up.

When the car self-parks in front of my place, I half expect to see a dead body on the stoop. There’s a sense that something horrible is waiting for me inside.

I approach carefully, my psychic senses screaming at me. There’s a fist around my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I open my door and choke on an awful scent.

At first I think I’m imagining it, but no, it’s real. My floor has disappeared, blotted out with the glossy black of broken wings. Covering my floor, as far as I can see, are hundreds of dead birds.

I stagger, and bones crunch underfoot. The wind races in and raises a flurry of feathers, shiny as a deadly oil slick.

The Bondage Killer was here. Again. He knows where I live.

I can sense his presence—the perverse glee, the longing, the hate.

My throat has closed, and my head throbs.

My legs wobble, so I hunch over and crouch, curling into a ball.

I raise shaking hands to cover my eyes and my ears, overwhelmed by the evil battering at my psychic senses.

I don’t know how long I sit there, reeling. I only know I wish Rex was here. He’d lift me in his arms, clear of the bodies, and carry me away. His presence would shelter me from the psychic barrage. He has his own darkness, but it’s safe and warm, a shelter instead of an assault.

But then he’d lock me away in a cage. My only source of comfort is gone.

My phone rings, cutting through the buzzing sound in my ears. I answer it automatically before I notice that it’s an unknown caller.

“Detective Ramos,” the silken voice with a slight rasp on the line is familiar. I try to place it but can’t before the caller says, “This is St. James. Are you hurt?”

“What? No. What do you want?”

“I’ve been informed that you’re back in the city, but your life is in danger.”

“Informed? By who?” Everything’s happening so quickly that I can’t keep up.

“Hamish wants me to keep an eye on you. He cannot assure your safety anymore. But I can.”

Hamish spoke to St. James? Why? “What’s going on?”

“Listen carefully because we don’t have much time. Rex is already on his way to you.”

“No,” I gasp. I rise and back out of my townhouse, slamming the door.

“He’s watching you even now.”

I run back to the car. My best chance is to head right to the police station, but Rex is best friends with the Chief. What’s to stop him from pulling strings and getting me ordered into protective custody? His.

I tried so hard to escape him. There’s nowhere I can run that he won’t hunt me down, but I won’t go back without a fight.

“I understand you no longer want to be under Rex’s power.”

“I won’t go back.” He’ll put me back in the cage.

“But no one can stop Rex from getting what he wants.”

He’s right. The sports car’s lights flash, and I stop before getting in. I should abandon the car. I bet Rex has an override to the stealth mode, and if I get in now, the car might take me straight to him.

What should I do?

“If I may offer a solution,” St. James continues. I almost forgot I was talking to him. “Come to the club. I can offer you a safe haven.”

“Rex will find me.”

“Eventually. But Club Empire has served as neutral territory before. I can convince him you’ll be safer if you’re working with him rather than against him.”

The solution sounds so elegant, but I still hesitate.

There’s a whirring sound overhead, and a black drone zooms through the air to hover at my eye level six feet away from me.

“Inara,” the drone says in Rex’s voice. “It’s okay. I’m coming for you.”

I drop my phone and pull my gun. “I’m not going back,” I snarl, aiming for the drone. “I’ll shoot you first.”

To my left, a motorcycle rips down the street at breakneck speed, only to skid to a stop beside me.

I switch my aim to lock in on the motorcycle rider. It’s him , I think at first, but the rider’s build is slimmer than Rex’s. He pulls off his black helmet, and I jerk back when I see a skull bandana covering the lower half of his face.

“Don’t shoot,” St. James is calling from my fallen cell phone. “That’s your ride.”

“We gotta go now.” The rider holds out the helmet to me.

I have to make a decision. My townhouse is full of dead birds. Rex is coming for me. I don’t really trust St. James, but where else can I turn?

“Inara, get in the car,” Rex shouts from the drone.

Crack! I fire my gun and blow the drone away. Black pieces fly off it, and the hunk of dead metal plummets to the ground.

I flip the safety on my gun and holster it, scoop up my phone, and face the motorcyclist.

He’s got long black hair and flecks of gold in his green eyes. I can tell he’s young, in his early twenties, even with the skull bandana hiding the rest of his face. “Hurry,” he barks.

I grab the helmet, slam it onto my head, and swing onto the bike. I’m barely on the seat when the rider jerks my arms around his waist and kicks the bike off the curb. His ab muscles flex under my hold. Before I can brace myself, we’re hurtling down the street.

Rex

She escaped me. Again.

And now St. James has her. Instead of helping me as he agreed to minutes ago, St. James has decided to become my enemy. For what? He loves his power plays, but what is his end game here?

I slam the steering wheel of my car. “Deploy more drones,” I direct Alfie, who’s installed in this car’s computer system. “Find them.”

“Deploying ten units now.”

I’m racing down empty streets—I had Alfie hack the city’s traffic lights and shut down all east and westbound traffic to clear my route to Inara—but there’s a matte black Lykan on my tail.

One of the identical blond twins from Inferno is behind the wheel, the skull mask covering the lower half of his face mocking me.

I let the Lykan pull level with me and then drop back. I’m in an armored car not unlike the one Inara used to get away from me, and I’ve paid good money for it to be as strong as a tank and fast as a sports car.

The Lykan tries to slow with me as I ram its back wheel at the precise angle required to make it spin out.

The hit makes the sports car swerve out of control, smashing into a truck parked alongside the road.

I accelerate around the crash and then wrench my car to the right, ducking down an alleyway to try to lose my tail completely.

“Alfie, I need you to clear an alternate route.”

“Rerouting traffic patterns.”

A black Jeep is waiting for me at the other end, blocking the exit. The second blond twin is behind the wheel. I order the computer into tank mode and smash into it, pushing it out of my way.

I shoot past the ruined Jeep and race up the road, only for a set of motorcycles to surround me. These riders also have grinning skull masks under their black helmets. I don’t need to see their hands to know they all wear a Fraternitas ring.

Fucking St. James—always interfering. As soon as I have Inara safe and the Bondage Killer in the ground, I’m going to turn my focus to ruining him. He loves money, so I’ll bankrupt him first.

“Hamish calling,” Alfie informs me. I order it to answer and as soon as the call’s connected, I snap, “What have you done?” I know he’s behind Inara’s escape from the Manor.

“I did my duty,” Hamish says so stiffly. “To you and to the detective.”

“You betrayed me.”

“I’ve been more than supportive of your illegal nocturnal activities. I’ll even allow that some lives should be snuffed out for the cause of justice, but I will not be party to imprisoning a young woman in our home.”

“My home. You will pack your bags?—”

“Undoubtedly, I will. But may I remind you that we have the same aim: to keep Detective Ramos alive and stop the Bondage Killer.” The chill in his voice could freeze over hell. “You do not have time to throw a tantrum.”

My brain shorts out. I’m so angry, I don’t know what to say.

“Really, Rex, what would your parents think?”

And now my chest is seizing with pangs of guilt despite myself. I was just in the hall, looking at their smiling faces and realizing they’d disapprove of me.

When Hamish decides to pull out the big guns, he does not hold back.

“You dare?—”

“I’m sending a team to the duplex.” He changes the subject. “The killer has been there.”

The air leaves my lungs. “What? How did this happen? The place was under surveillance.” I’m angry at Hamish and St. James, so it feels good to direct my anger somewhere fruitful.

“There’s something wrong with the security equipment. Some sort of glitch. I’m working to override it.”

“I tried to pull up the feed from the cameras earlier, and they seemed to be offline. That’s why I deployed drones. Are you telling me the Bondage Killer was on my property and all my tech failed to detect him?”

“It seems so,” Hamish sounds preoccupied, and I can hear the computers chiming in the background.

A cop car slides in behind me, sirens wailing. I accelerate to lose him. I do not want the cops involved in this. A news helicopter is circling overhead, which means my stunt will be all over the stations.

Sure enough, Hamish says, “I’m getting traffic reports from New Rome. Are you currently involved in a high-speed chase on Central Avenue?”

“Yes,” I grind out.

“Far be it from me to criticize, but is this the best time to pull resources away from the BK manhunt?”

“That sounds a lot like criticism, Hamish.” More cops are on my ass, but there’s a tow truck ahead with its ramp down and nothing loaded on the metal bed.