Darkness Burning by Delilah Devlin

Author:Delilah Devlin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2009-10-17T04:00:00+00:00

Miki gave the driver a haggard smile as she stepped out of the limo with his assistance. She’d fallen asleep in the backseat. Her body felt stiff, her movements forced. She was tired and bruised, inside and out. And dirty.

She longed for a hot bath. One she could lie inside and never leave, just emptying and reopening the taps to fill her tub long past the time her skin pruned.

But there was no running water in the building. Not even a light over the entrance as she fumbled in a pocket for her key.

As the limo pulled away from the curb, she held out her keys, seeking enough moonlight to find the building key.

The lock turned behind her. The shadow in the doorway was stooped and thick. Old Man Mouton stood in the opening, a shotgun resting across his folded arms. “Thought we were gonna have to mount a patrol of our own, missy.”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you I’d be late. Something came up.” If only she’d stopped by when she’d thought about it earlier. She might have hesitated, might have decided it was wiser to stay inside.

Light blinded her for a moment as he pointed a flashlight at her and scanned her body. “Best get off the doorstep. Not safe out there, fille.”

The gruffness of his tone, deeper than usual, had Miki’s throat tightening.

“That man from the magazine come by earlier. Dropped off an envelope. Bet it’s cash. And notes for you.”

“Emile was here?”

“Just said that,” he snapped.

Miki took no offense, knowing his gruffness hid a soft heart.

“You get on up to your room. Keep your door and windows locked.”

Miki blinked tiredly. Windows, too? She lived on the second floor. Well above reach of any criminals looking for an easy target.

But the way his gaze bored into hers told her there was more to his warning. His lips firmed. “There’s craziness on them streets. Crazy people. Crazy t’ings. I don’t have ta tell you ’bout it, now.”

His whispered words sent a chill down her spine. He knew. Knew what she’d found. What she’d done. Miki’s gaze slid away from his. “Thanks for looking out for me. I’m heading to bed.”

“Remember, keep those windows closed.”

The air inside the stairwell was thick, humid, and starting to stink with garbage piling up outside the building and in the occupied apartments. Her room would be stifling. “I’ll remember,” she replied and started the climb to her apartment.

“Need my flashlight?” he called after her.

Wanting to get away, to be alone and lick her wounds, she didn’t answer; she just lifted her key chain in the air, hit the end of the small flashlight hanging from the fob, and began the slow climb.

Once inside her one-room apartment, she stripped, dropping her clothes and letting them lie on the ground as she moved toward the bathroom. Inside, she lit candles, stoppered the sink, and filled the basin with bottled water. She started with her face, working suds into a cloth, then scouring her skin in circles.

Watching

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