Chapter 13 - Too Close!
It was just as she had left his corpse on the floor, but now there were markings and tapes to ensure the site stayed undisturbed.
Her heart raced, her mouth parting in a silent gasp, a slight tremble of grief coursing through her veins.
Why was he showing her this picture? Had he connected the dots? By Argon, did he know everything already?
If he were to reach for her, with the way she was still mostly behind the door, she could slam the door shut in his face and quickly lock the door. He wasn't in his coat and it didn't seem like he had his gun with him, although one could never tell with him.
But she would move quickly, she would use her wolf, rip the bars out of the window, and escape with Arik for as long as she could.
At the end of the day, he was just a human.
A human without a gun should be something she could handle. Certainly, the bodyguards were gone by now. That just made everything better.
She tried to calm herself down with that line of thought as she looked up at him. "That's horrifying," the words slipped past her lips quickly. "What happened to him?"
His face was calm.
Unreadable.
Her grip on the doorknob tightened.
By Argon, she needed more clarity right now!
He moved another picture over Grandpa Alfred's own. It was a picture of the hastily scraped away message that Alpha Kalio had carved into the kitchen's wall.
Nothing could be clearly made out of it, and she was starting to wish that she had taken her time to destroy the message completely.
She forced herself to stay calm.
Deny! Deny! Deny! Till a chance to escape comes. Then snatch it!
"I don't understand." She said quickly. "What is going on?"
"The monsters were in Cider."
Monsters.
He tucked the pictures away into a small brown folder in his hand. There were more pictures that he had not shown her, probably more of the rooms.
Idalia knew how she lived in the two-room unit, but she was suddenly terrified that she had left something out that would directly affect all these to her.
"Is it them? Are they here? In Echelon?" she broke into a frantic cry. "I thought this place was safe. Are they following us? Is it because you killed them? Or is it Leo and me?"
"Relax, Miss Summers. I wanted to know if you knew the deceased."
She looked up at him sharply, fighting the terror of his watchful eyes and the eyes of that raven on his shoulder.
Deceased. Not monster. He didn't know what Grandpa Alfred was then.
"And why would I know him?"
"It happened in Cider, on the day we met on the train."
What?!
What was that supposed to mean?
Her hand trembled on the doorknob, her mind picturing exactly where Arik was.
"I heard people in Cider know one another."
She blinked, pausing for just a second, then she shook her head. "I have no business knowing poor and old men. He seems to be that. And it is sad that he is dead, but what good would knowing him have done for me?"
She conveyed her words with so much irritation that it surprised her.
Silence passed between them. She could feel the uneasiness weighing down on her shoulders, Mr. Lythoryn's gaze, heavy, her skin, prickling with tension.
She shifted from one foot to another.
"Were there more attacks? Were you able to rescue any more witnesses? Is there a reason for these attacks?"
"There seems to be." He folded his arms across his chest. "There was a message on the wall. I'll recover it soon."
What?!
Soon?!
WHAT?!
"You have no reason to worry, Miss Summers. You are in my house, and nothing can hurt you here unless I permit it."
"What would make you permit it?" She kept her gaze firm on him now.
"Lying to me."
The words struck her.
If he thought that she was lying, then why——
Why was he——
Was this… a game to him?
Did he even know that she was lying, or was he just playing a game to figure her out?
He pushed back his glasses as he took a single step closer, and it took all of Idalia's strength not to step back.
His gaze held hers for a moment too long before he broke the spell and looked through the gap above her. "Where is the little one?"
She pushed the door so he could see Arik. "Leo is sleeping."
"Beautiful hair, he has." There was a tick in his jaw, his gaze settling back on her. Firm and cold. "Did he get that from his father?"
"What?"
The question felt jarring as her mind jumped straight to Alpha Kalio and back. All she had done while thinking about him lately was how she could escape him. She hadn't thought about the intimacy that existed in their past, what they were right now… or anything in that direction.
It made her uncomfortable to remember.
She would usually cut Arik's hair not to draw attention, but Mr. Lythoryn had certainly noticed the red hue of the faint and curly growth.
By Argon, he was too observant!
"Who is his father, Miss Summers?"
"Are you suspicious of me, Mr. Lythoryn?" She fired back, her eyes gleaming with defiance, but he remained unmoved.
"Do I have any reason to be?"
Her grip around the doorknob tightened even more. At this point, her hand was starting to feel numb.
"My son's father has nothing to do with this case and is none of your business. You already know what you need to."
He raised an eyebrow at that, but she continued, her words fast and hot.
"And the red colour is mine, I just—— I hate it! Clashes with my skin. If you have no more use for me, then good—"
He planted a firm hand against the door before she could slam it shut. The action was so abrupt, it made her go still, as he pushed the door back so she was no longer hiding behind it.
Without the door's shield, she felt vulnerable to him.
When he took a step closer, her breath seemed to cease. Her mind was everywhere, on different routes, on the next lie, on how she could fight him, on how she could kill him if need be.
By Argon, could she even kill him? Would that be possible?
She gulped at the thought. At what felt like the impossibility of it.
She looked up at him, seizing him up in her head as the memory of how he had easily killed the rogue on the flased in her mind.
He had moved very quickly for a human; he could move just as quickly again.
The empty hallway suddenly dawned on her: the absent raven that had vanished somewhere during their conversation, her sleeping child behind her, the fact that they were the only ones in this mansion, and that out of both of them, he knew everywhere better.
This was his playground, and she was his prey.
Right now, he was the danger.
"What do you want?" It was a whisper, although she had wanted it to show more confidence, but her voice had failed her, and perhaps he could hear the fear in it.
By Argon, she hated this man.
This man, who made her feel so much fear, but felt nothing himself.
"Show me your hand."
The cut. He wanted to see the cut.
She pulled off her glove and, with her hand between them — just about two inches away from her face — she showed it to him.
When he leaned down to observe it even more, she felt taken aback. She would have placed her hand further away from her if she had known he would do this.
Now she could feel his warm, steady breath on her palm, which reminded her of how uneven hers was. She could see him too closely; she could feel him in her personal space. Now, she was overly aware of his presence and how it seemed to be claiming everything around her.
A slight frown crossed his face, and in the next moment, his gloved hand slipped a small bottle into her left gloved hand.
Her eyes widened at the sudden contact, and she watched him take a step back.
What?
What?!
"Sleep well, Miss Summers."
He turned away, and she locked the door quickly, her heart racing too quickly for her to catch her breath, her mind racing all over the place.
Suspicion.
Escape.
And a feeling she couldn't define.
She did not sleep well.