Daimon - DANIELLE BOLGER (best fiction novels TXT) 📗

that fed on hearts. It was an abomination, hell-spawn, and it was you. Of course, you wanted to die.

“You won the game after all,” I whispered to the place where Rose's body once laid.

The sound of hearts beating filled my ears. One was my own, steady and strong, pumping rejuvenated blood through a recently healed body. The other was barely audible over the plummeting waterfall.

As if all I had to do was think it, I stood over Sandra, who rested on the low stone in the center of the lagoon. Perfectly tranquil and perfectly beautiful, she boasted a newly acquired snow-white skin. There were the smallest hints of movement from her: blonde hair clutching at the wind.

I became acutely aware of a metallic smell interweaving through the roses. In recognition of that, I was suddenly standing over Alex, who lay serenely on her side as a small pool of blood haloed her head. I was about to turn away before the subtlest of sounds caught my attention. It was the softest of thuds, two in a row, but largely spaced apart. I knew from the arrhythmia that it would be insufficient to supply her brain with the necessary oxygen. She grasped at life, but would not remain for long. In a matter of minutes, she would die; it would not even be worth the effort of attempting resuscitation.

I recalled her desperate statement, one that hoped for nothing more than Rose's death, even at the cost of her own life, and that indeed was coming true. One bullet had sealed her fate, the one that saved my life in exchange for her own; all so that Rose could be killed.

I promised her that I was of the same mind, but really that wasn't true. I still had things to live for, a person to live for. Seeing her laying there with cerebral trauma, struggling valiantly and pitifully to cling to life, I wondered whether the mysterious woman had something else to live for as well.

I thought of my reason—my life-long unrequited love that held the silent promise of fulfillment. So long I had loved him, looked upon him with admiration as he spent time with my brother. So long I had followed the two around, pretending that I wanted my brother's company, when really it was always that one boy I yearned to see. So serious, so tough, but at times he could break out of his shell and make me laugh like no one else could. My brother could not; Jack did not laugh, but Ryan did not hide his smiles. Ryan never gave up on achieving happiness.

I realized that he should have been back at my house by then, waiting for me with his heart on his sleeve. I decided that it was time that I stopped tearing out other people's hearts and finally gave my own away.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Again, the front door to my house was unlocked and it was apparent that a skilled policeman had picked the lock. I smiled as I raced inside the house towards the sound of a heart beating, in the lounge room, and threw myself onto the amazing man seated on my sofa. It was when he did not return my embrace that I became aware of the odd lack of lighting.

I leaned away, hands still clutching Ryan's shoulders as I searched his expression in the darkness. His deep frown was cold, breath jagged and his tightly clenched fists hostile. I wished his head was not turned down so that I could see his harmonious ocean eyes.

“Ryan, what’s wrong? Why do you look so...angry?”

“Let go of me,” he responded with a deep, ominous voice.

“Ryan?”

“Get those filthy hands away from me!” he yelled, as he pushed me away hurriedly.

Even with all my power, it was not enough to keep me on my feet as a heavy gravity caused me to collapse on the carpet. I looked up at him, and this time, I could see his eyes, but instantly wished that I couldn't, for they were filled with rage.

In complete contrast to his outburst, he managed a steady, empty voice. “It's almost sunrise. Tell me: where were you, what were you doing? And...don't lie to me.”

“I...” My utterance was small and thick with trepidation. “I was with Sandra. She had an accident, so I was dropping her off at the hospital.”

“Stop lying to me!” He roared with such magnitude that I felt my golden fairies tremble.

“I'm not lying.”

I wasn't, I had indeed delivered Sandra to the care of medical professionals. I dropped her in, my clothes sopping wet but at least rinsed of blood. I told them that she took some pills, was not sure which, and that I feared an overdose. Then I raced back home, back to my prize—my reason for living—the unspoken promise of Ryan's love.

He waited a minute before breaking the silence with that composed, dead voice. “We received the results for some DNA tests today. Well, it arrived Friday, but since things were so crazy then I didn't get a chance to have a look at them 'til today, or I suppose, yesterday.” He turned his head in the direction of the window, where the golden glow of a new day was transforming the outside garden's appearance. The river, however, still retained its deep melancholy.

“Ryan, don't...” I husked.

“All that blood of the mystery person in the woods; it was revealed as a woman's, but there were no matches anywhere in the database. That left us with a relative dead end, but that was until Zachary Goodman was murdered. On the wall, written in blood: He died for her sins. You then admitted that her was in reference to you. I thought it was punishment for your investigation of the Foxes, and my pursuit of Valentine, but there was one more possibility. I didn't want to consider it, but as soon as I did, I knew that it had to be right. That woman who lost all that blood in the woods, that woman was...you.”

His eyes softened just enough so that I could see the water enter them again. “Even though it had to be right, it just didn't make sense! This mystery woman lost so much blood, too much to possibly survive whatever terrible insult she suffered. If she had somehow recovered, maybe received a blood transfusion that was not reported in any local hospitals—that could have saved her. She didn’t though. She was a victim, so it makes no sense—why not come forward? This survivor could have been the key we needed to finally identify Valentine, and she could have been given protection, even in a force that's as crooked as ours. If it was you, then you would know that you could trust me to protect you because I...” He clenched his hands even tighter.

He turned and looked at me for the first time during that early morning. His expression had finally turned gentle, and he even bore a slight smile, but it was sad as if remembering a lost loved one. “It was hard to consider that you were caught up in this more than I had thought. I mean, it was you I was considering. Jane Kirra—my best friend's sister, a kid I had known since she was in puberty, someone I care about, but you were pursuing the Foxes and your friend was killed as a result. So, I had to find out just how deep you went into this case. That was when, while you slept in my bed after your discovery of your friend, I took some of your hair, a swab of saliva and a small drop of blood. You hardly even stirred as I recovered them. I guessed that you were held captive by your dreams, or your nightmares.”

His kind side disappeared, and he turned away from me again. “When I read the results today, I realized that the labs made a mistake. You see, they were only meant to compare your samples to those from the woods, but it seemed that a couple of other DNA fragments were recently flagged that I had yet to become aware of, and so these were also compared against yours. The first match was the crime scene in the woods, as I sadly expected, but then there was a second one involved with a case I wasn't even working on. It matched blood found in the private hospital room of a teenage girl who died of suspicious circumstances. The father of the young woman had been rumored to have involvement with the Foxes.”

The silence was heavy; it was agonizing as it crushed my heart.

Ryan reached into his pockets and drew out both a gun and a pair of handcuffs. He held them in his hands as he breathed heavily. “It does not look good, Jane. You have been known to be involved with these gangsters. At first glance, you seem to be investigating them on some supposed story to expose all their black market dealings, but you've been attempting this for years, with no success and no stories. If you were really a threat to the Foxes they would have killed you for your intentions alone, but they haven't. This leads me to believe that you’re involved with the Foxes and by extension, Valentine. You should be dead, and yet you're here pretending to be the victim when all signs indicate that you collaborated in at least two murders.”

“Stop it, Ryan. Please, stop,” I pleaded, my voice wavering.

“Who are you really, Jane? Who have you become?”

I leaned forward from the ground and gripped his knees desperately. “It's me, Ryan. Jack's little sister. The annoying girl that followed you all through our childhood, the girl that's always been in love with you.”

He recoiled and stared deeply at his gun in hand. “You won't answer me…you won't help me understand. That tells me just one thing: that you have a dark secret you're trying to hide. Jane,” I felt his knees tremble under my hold. “Who are you?”

“I'm still the same person, or she's still in me, but there's another part to me as well now. Something...happened to me, Ryan. I’ve changed.”

“I see.” He was right in front of me; I was still clutching the fabric of his pants, and yet I could feel him drift so far away. “Just tell me this at least—tell me that you had nothing to do with their deaths.”

I couldn’t say anything. I wanted to lie, but I knew that would have achieved nothing in the long run. He finally saw; he had a glimpse of my demon. There was no way I could spare him from the monster now.

“Your silence makes you look guilty. That means I have no choice but to apprehend you.” He suddenly stood up, breaking my hold of him, as he sighted his gun down on me. The cuffs dangled from his other hand. “Jane Kirra, you are under arrest for the suspicion of murder.”

“Ryan, please don't do this. You can't. Please! I...I love you, Ryan!”

The cuffs jingled. “You have a right to remain silent...”

“Please.”

“I'm...sorry, Jane. You haven't given me any other choice.” He stood strong and tall as he towered over my hunched form on the floor. His serene sea-eyes were so far from me that, with a horrible truth, I knew I would never be near them again.

I looked up into the gun barrel that was pointed into my face. “I can't let you take me in. Even if you threaten to shoot me, even if you do shoot me, I won't be in your custody.”

The gun was shaking. Then I heard the sound of the cuffs being raised. “Just work with me here, Jane. If you're innocent, you have nothing to fear. We'll sort it out soon. Just submit yourself!” It was him who was pleading now.

Grasping the barrel, I pulled it so that it was flush against my forehead. “I can't submit myself, because...I am not innocent.”

He pulled the weapon away hastily, hesitated, and then snatched my hand roughly. Circling me, he took hold of my other hand and with a couple of snaps placed me in handcuffs. Guiding them upward, he directed me to my feet and gave a little tug towards the front door. “We better get going then.”

He tried to pull me but I would not budge. My eyes were set on the carpet, which I feared was