Page 65 of White Raven (Nevermore Duet #2)

“John said on the phone that if I sorted all this out, I wouldn’t be the only one that got the answers I’m looking for.

He said ‘the wolves’ . Now, we know that based on the shit in the reports from whatever Lindsey Trainor was doing behind Foley’s back, that she was working with Dahlia, and testing vampire blood on wolves.

John was careful to say that he obviously knew that and seemed protective.

I’m not trying to give this bastard the benefit of thinking that I’m on his side.

He’s taken Athan from me. But aside from his fucked up tactics, it makes me believe he’s tied into it.

He took Dahlia’s crown. He adopted her coven.

It only makes sense that if Dahlia had her claws in something, he’d be the one trying to pry the claws out and reverse whatever she was doing. ”

“But that doesn’t tell us anything about Sykes,” Wren argued. Foley nodded.

“Unless Sykes is part of whatever this is. What if that was the reason that she came here? Not only to scope me out on my father’s behalf, but to get close to Rhaena? ” Sarah offered.

Wren bristled, and Brandon stood from the couch. “You think she was gonna try and make her into a lab rat?”

“No idea. All I do know is that it’s obvious, she’s got some twisted motive for everything she does. The only thing that doesn’t add up is Leigh.”

“You don’t think she was a part of this?” Wren asked, a tad hopeful.

“I don’t know that either,” Sarah started. “Maybe her tryst with Leigh was all it truly was.”

“Then I’ll find out,” Wren nodded, biting her lip. “What’s your next move, Sarah?”

Sarah stood at the board and clutched one of Athan’s t-shirts around her, sighing.

The worry Wren saw all over her face was making her chest hurt.

“Nick Specter is back from his holiday, ” she said, rolling her eyes.

“My microscope was scrapped after Foster tore through my apartment. He agreed to meet me at the lab. I’m gonna draw a little of Rhaena’s blood and go test it.

Then I’m gonna test mine. Nick still has a few bags that the coven didn’t use when I turned them against Dahlia.

I wanna see how it all fits, and then see what reaction I get if I add the original blood. ”

“What then?” Brandon asked, his voice hoarse with defeat.

Sarah softly shrugged, as if in apology. “I guess it depends on what happens when I do.”

“Does Nell know? About Athan?” Wren piped up. Sarah only shook her head.

“Who is Nell?” Foley asked.

“Antique dealer. Does restoration. She’s teaching me her trade. She’s really close with Athan,” Wren sighed. “Nell would be the last person to see him that night. Am I right?”

“If he didn’t go anywhere except straight home, then yes. She came out after me.”

Foley looked surprised. “I didn’t realize Kane had many friends. No offense.”

“He doesn’t have many friends, Captain. He spreads himself too thin trying to protect them all.”

The look in Sarah’s hazel eyes could hack off the captain’s head.

Wren couldn’t blame her. Every time Athan got close to someone, something bad usually followed.

No wonder he alienated himself and was an emotional hermit.

It seemed so unfair. To have lived such a long life, and not having the privilege of personal relationships…

to feel loved or cared for. They had to find him.

Now Wren had two uncomfortable stops to make.

She almost wanted to kick herself for not joining Brent this morning at his therapy session.

Oddly enough, whatever the old hag was doing for him seemed to be working, and without meds.

“Well, the ones he does have…are gonna come for him. I’m heading out. I’ll talk to Nell. The tattoo shop opens at 11:00. I’m supposed to meet Brent later this afternoon. If you need me, call me. I’ll be flipping Boston on its ass.”

Wren threw her arms around Sarah, squeezing some reassurance into her before heading out the door, and stopping by to feed Denver before making the drive downtown.

She pulled up to Nell’s shop a few minutes later with a fresh cup of Earl Grey, and a warm croissant, surprised to see the front door to the shop still locked at this hour, and no sign that she’d been there yet through the front windows.

She couldn’t see much past some of the taller hutches, and underpriced furniture that hid the curtained-off back room from view at the front of the shop, so Wren trudged around back to see if maybe she’d come in that way.

It wasn’t until she made it to the back door that the heaviest feeling slid over her body…

bone-deep and overpowering. Heavy enough that Wren dropped the paper cup and reached into her bag to pull out her gun.

The door was open. Her first thought would have been that Nell was getting overwhelmed by some of the fumes of the chemicals she used in the back room when she worked.

They did tend to give Wren headaches if the space wasn’t well-aerated.

But…that heaviness weighed down her chest, and she somehow knew… that just wasn’t the case.

“Nell?” Wren called, pushing her shoulder into the door, and readying her weapon. Her heart raced, and dread started to marry that very uncomfortable feeling, leaving her face to tingle and her limbs to shake. “Nell, it’s Wren.”

Silence…the most stifling, eerie fucking silence.

Wren stepped further inside, raising the gun in front of her, and glancing around until she spotted Nell’s foot jutting out on the other side of her worktable on the floor.

“Oh, God! Nell! ” She’d seen enough T.V.

and thriller movies to know not to go straight to her before making sure the threat was gone.

Wren’s breath sawed, and her chest heaved while she pointed the gun in every direction, making sure they were alone, and then hurling herself to Nell’s side and dropping to her knees.

“Oh, shit… shit! ” She pressed her fingers to her mentor’s freezing neck… knowing damned well she was gone.

Nell was dead. She was dead .

Wren laid the gun on the floor, and dialed Sarah, adrenaline taking over and her deep urge to cry being trampled under it. The phone started ringing, and she pressed the back of her wrist to her mouth and nose, wondering which emotion was gonna take her first.

“Hey, what’s—”

“Sarah…” Wren choked, feeling her eyes begin to burn.

“Oh, fuck…what’s wrong?”

“Nell…Nell’s—she’s dead.” Cue the waterworks. She looked down at the old woman that had started to mean a great deal to her. The woman that meant a great deal to Athan. The woman who…might still be alive if she hadn’t known the misfits .

“What?! What happened?!”

“I—I don’t know. The shop was locked up, so I went around back, and the door was open. I found her on the floor next to her station. It doesn’t even look like she got started for the day. Sarah…it looks like she might not have even made it home last night.”

“Oh, my God…did somebody—did somebody kill her? Is anything missing?”

Wren tore her eyes away from Nell’s face and looked around the room. “Um,” she sniffed, standing. Nothing really seemed out of place…except…

“Wren?”

“Gimme a second,” she said, noticing some missing panels in the corner where Sarah spent the majority of her time while she was here.

She flipped through them. A lot of the priceless letters, and pieces of old paper were still there, safe in their glass tombs…

except the ones that Sarah and Athan had been most interested in. “Poe’s shit is gone.”

There was a heavy silence on the other end for a long moment before Sarah spoke again. “Stay with her. Don’t fucking move. We’re coming.”

Who could do something like this? Who could kill a precious elderly woman for some old pieces of fucking paper?

It was the reason Wren had such a hard time leaving her apartment for weeks.

This world was evil. The parts that everyone saw…

and the parts they didn’t. There were obviously no boundaries drawn in either world where the sanctity of life actually mattered.

Nell filled that hole that was ripped in her and gave her a new gift that she could carry into her future.

Brent was the other filler, and the stitch that bound it back together.

Seeing how quickly and easily that hole could be torn wide open, and half-emptied, left her soul exposed and wounded.

It didn’t matter how many years Nell had on her…

compared to the years Athan had, and the years Sarah would have?

Nell’s life just seemed too short. And it sucked.

She wasn’t just robbed of something she was passionate about in this little back room…

she was robbed of her short life. A light that sought to warm any lost and broken body… had been snuffed out.

Wren sat back down on the dirty floor, and inched closer to Nell’s body, crying a little harder, and growing more angry and bitter by the second. She raised the phone back to her ear.

“I guess you’re calling about an itchy nose. I was most definitely talking you up over here.”

Wren smiled through her tears and ran a fingertip through her eye. “Hey, stupid.”

“Wren? Shit, what’s the matter?”

She broke. Her snotty sob must have set him into motion. Brent’s phone rustled like he was leaping off the therapist’s couch. “I need you.”

“Where. Tell me where I need to be.”

“I’ll ping you. Please just get here.”

“I’m on my way, baby.”

Squad cars lined the entire block, and yellow tape had already been placed to rope off the alley leading to the back door of the antique shop.

Foley paced the sidewalk, gesturing with a finger to the rookies holding off the curious crowd.

News reporters were already gaining on each other to get a spot close enough to spill whatever bullshit they’d no doubt come up with.