Truth We Bear by Danielle Rose

Author:Danielle Rose
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781642631784
Publisher: Waterhouse Press

Chapter Fifteen

Now

I downed my champagne, slammed the glass onto a waiter’s tray harder than intended, and offered a weak excuse to Jezebel. By the time I reached the door and ran down the street, Abigail was gone. Still, I walked a few blocks, frantically scanning the storefronts and alleyways, ignoring those who begged for money, their signs for help nothing but blurs.

When I reached the end of the block, I decided I’d never find her this way. She was baiting me, I was sure. I just needed to play her game, but I found it nearly impossible to think straight. I’d been searching for her for so long, and now she was right before me, taunting me with a powerful, yet risky, move. How had she known I hadn’t told Jezebel all about her? How had she known she wasn’t on some refusal list?

I gasped. The list! Tara had hired an amazing event coordinator to ensure tonight was successful, and the coordinator required everyone to flash an ID or ticket to get into the event. After all, this was an exclusive party. Only invitees could attend. So how had Abigail scored a pass?

I ran back to the gallery, my feet pounding the slick pavement. It must’ve rained while we were inside. I hadn’t noticed. I was missing so many details lately that I was embarrassed to be looking for work as a bodyguard. Sure, Jezebel didn’t really need my expertise anymore. Miller was gone. But a new demon had entered this hell. Jezebel just didn’t know that yet. Again, I’d let my guard down. I wasn’t sure what it was about Jezebel that made me lose all control of my faculties when she was around.

I reached the gallery just as the sting in my chest was becoming annoying. I gasped for breath as I scanned the crowd. Jezebel was talking to Tara—probably about me. I couldn’t worry about that now. I had to find the coordinator. I’d seen her when we arrived, but I hadn’t paid much attention to her. Mentally, I retraced my steps to the party, trying to recall her face. She was young, but her hair was gray. An intentional dye job, I remembered thinking when I saw her.

“Can I help you find something, Mr. Blakely?” someone asked.

As if God Himself were listening—and for once, He was welcomed—the gray-haired beauty was staring back at me, a wide smile on her face. I was so happy, I could kiss those lips.

“Yes. There was a girl here today. She had long red hair, pale skin, blue eyes. Do you know who she is?”

Her brows wrinkled as she thought about my question. She shook her head. “I don’t remember her name.”

“But you remember her?” I asked.

“Oh, yes. I remember everyone’s face. It’s a curse, really.”

“How did she get in without a pass?”

Her nose wrinkled now. “What do you mean?”

“She wasn’t supposed to be here.”

With wide eyes, she said, “But she had a pass.” She scanned her list of names. “Yes. Yes! Here.

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