Betrayal in Barcelona (The Kate Benedict Series Book 8) by Carrie Bedford

Author:Carrie Bedford [Bedford, Carrie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-02-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

I woke at six on Tuesday in a panic. I wasn’t even close to ready for the client meeting that morning, and Alan would be furious. My team members would be embarrassed. Worse, they’d have to scramble to cover for me, and they’d hate me for it. It took a full minute of staring at the shaft of sunlight that fell between the curtains for my heart rate to settle and for me to realize I wasn’t at home. I was in a hotel room in Barcelona. And the meeting had been postponed.

Rubbing my temples, I sat up. Josh was still fast asleep beside me, so I eased out of bed and tiptoed to the bathroom to splash water on my face. My eyes were puffy, their usual bright blue faded to grey in the harsh light from the fixture over the mirror. My skin, always pale, had an ashy hue to it. I leaned forward, peering more closely at my reflection. Was that a grey hair? Horrified, I plucked it out and glared at it. Who goes grey at thirty-two? This was all to do with Brooke, I decided. I had to get rid of her aura, and fast.

Now that I thought of it, I’d had other strange dreams before the architectural proposal meeting one that had woken me up. Blood in my hair that I couldn’t wash out. Jogging down a long street that stretched into the distance. Was I running after someone or away from them? I couldn’t remember, but I still felt the fear of that infinite run.

I soaked two cotton pads in cold water and held them against my eyes, relishing the coolness against my skin, glad to shut out the glaring light.

I’d also had a dream about Brooke. She’d been laughing at me, which didn’t really surprise me. But I couldn’t remember why she was mocking me. She was wearing her denim shorts and a skinny tank top. And a diamond necklace like the one Señora Ferrer had worn in the vision I’d seen at the cemetery. I lowered the cotton pads and stared in the mirror, trying to grasp more remnants of that dream. But the more I tried, the further it slipped away.

Brooke and the necklace. Was there a connection? Or was my poor, overworked brain just throwing disjointed memories of my day together in a random, meaningless sequence?

By the time Josh and I had showered, dressed, and gone down for breakfast, I was more settled, although not very optimistic. Last night, when Phoebe and I had returned to the gallery after seeing Isandro, Brooke’s aura was still there, and Josh and Liam had been dismayed when I’d told them that Isandro’s aura hadn’t departed either, despite the failed attack at the market. The threat, whatever it was, still existed.

“So now what?” Josh was struggling to peel a hard-boiled egg. I took it from him and removed the shell in two pieces. “I wish I could do that,” he said. “I always end up with shell shards all over my plate.

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