Into the Black: The Monsters series, #3

By Amber Naralim

Book 3 in the Monsters series

 

Everyone always assumes Persephone was tricked. That Beast kidnapped Beauty. I find it's usually a little more complicated.

 

There is no normal.

Not anymore.

 

That was the first lesson I learned when I followed Vincent into the shadows. Well, I saved my brother… or so I thought. There are always consequences and unintended victims though.

 

Keeping two steps ahead of the mercenaries of The Foundation and the FBI prove quite the challenge while Vincent and I work to put down the monsters I set loose. Each step we take only leads us deeper into the black.

 

Into the Black is book three in the ongoing Monsters series, inspired by the tales of Hades and Persephone, Beauty and the Beast, and Death and the Maiden. It's perfect for paranormal romance readers who enjoy bone-crunching action, swoon-worthy couples, and a dark world.

You'll love this Romantic Paranormal Suspense because love makes Beasts of us all.

 

Grab yours now!

 

This series includes

A Beautiful Lie

Walking with Monsters

Into the Black

Shed some Light

Safe and Sound

No Easy Way coming soon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amber Naralim
• Release date: Jan 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223332077

Book preview

Chapter

The stolen Cherokee sped down the highway like it was on rails. Snowflakes whipped in the headlights. Frigid wind gusted, rocking the SUV, pushing it toward the center of the deserted road.

Ellie laced her fingers between Vincent’s and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Shadows pushed in around them.

Vincent leaned in close, swirling grey eyes dancing over her face. She touched his cheek. Slathered in dried blood, it flaked in places. His skin was pale in contrast.

Vincent pressed a gentle kiss against her mouth. A brush of silken lips nothing more. Ellie moved wrong and winced with the ache of it. Vincent vibrated with concern.

Bruises spread across the side of her heart-shaped face. They spilled over her right eye, her cheekbone, and colored a bit of her button nose. Blood dripped from a nasty cut that peeked out of her hairline.

Vincent opened her coat. The gunshot wound in her shoulder was bleeding again. The bandage on her thigh was holding well. Only a few, red, half-dollar-sized circles seeped through.

Vincent frowned. He looked up at the scenery flying by them. They were almost there, thankfully.

He rubbed his thumb across the back of her palm, over her knuckles. The softness of her skin sent a thrill down his spine.

You need another pain shot? he asked, reaching across the tattered seat for her backpack.

Are you kidding, you pump me full of more of that stuff and I'll go into a coma, she said through clenched teeth. Moving just that tiny bit sent fire curling in her chest.

Kind of the point, Vincent said. His thick brows came down between his lovely gray eyes in a deep V shape.

Ellie held his gaze, chewing her lip thoughtfully. Vincent sighed. He could play this game too, be just as childish, as stubborn.

No.

He had to take that back. He had never known anyone quite as stubborn as Ellie.

I can barely see as it is, Vincent, she said. I need to be able to aim in case any of the mercs followed us.

You blew that place to hell, Squirt, Edward said glancing at her in the rearview mirror. He gave his almost shoulder-length, wheat-colored hair a flip. Take the shot, Elliot. You won't let me take you to a damned hospital. Take the shot.

Ellie frowned. Happy as she was to have him out of there Edward’s need to take control was seriously getting on her nerves. After everything that happened, he seemed to think the world would fall right back into the line it followed before those mercenaries busted down their front door and stole him from her.

Their lives were different now. She was different now. Changed irrevocably by the things she’d seen. The things she'd done.

Ellie cuddled closer to Vincent, resting her head against the concave space between his neck and shoulder. His feverish heat was delicious. It melted her sore muscles. Kept the worst of the pain away.

VINCENT GLARED AT THE back of Edward's head. He blamed Edward for her every wince. Ellie did her best to ignore the darkness in his eyes, the anger.

She drifted her fingers through Vincent's short, wild black hair and pressed her forehead to the side of his neck. The muscles in Vincent's jaw bunched.

All totaled he’d known Edward for about three and a half hours. Between meeting him the night his problems followed him to Ellie's home and rescuing him from St. Verens.

Vincent could say with certainty the guy was a dick. Anyone else that gave him that much attitude would be cooling on the floor in a pool of their own blood.

I have some of the pills left from the pharmacy I knocked over. They shouldn't floor you as much, Vincent cajoled.

Ellie looked like she wanted to argue. She nodded her head, huffing out an annoyed breath. Vincent lifted her like she weighed nothing.

She didn't, hundred and two pounds, fighting hard to reach five feet even. She was an elfin beauty, even covered in blood and bruises.

Her labored breaths had Vincent worried. He was sure that at least two of her ribs were broken, possibly three. He used extra care when he touched her.

Reaching over the back seat, he pulled his duffel bag over digging a large, white bottle out. Vincent shook two tablets onto the palm of his hand.

Is she still out? Vincent asked.

By she, he meant their other stray. They rescued a worked-over redhead in that hospital. There was also the dog, a Golden Retriever. He curled up asleep between the seats. Anna turned her head toward the sound of voices.

Are you still hurting, Anna? Vincent asked.

She nodded and regretted the movement immediately. Anna cried out from the sting that simple movement caused.

Anna’s ankle was sprained. Vincent was sure her wrist was broken. Anna could boast a skull fracture among her worse injuries.

Vincent shook out four more pills. Tossing the bottle into the bag, he dropped it down to the floor at his feet. Setting Ellie back into his lap with reverent care, Vincent handed Edward four of the pills.

Give her those.

Vincent did his best to ignore Edward’s suspicion and hostility. He went back to doting on Ellie, brushing the hair out of her face.

Vincent relished touching Ellie. He slaughtered nearly fifty people to do it. But that wasn't something that bothered him over much. He pressed his lips against her forehead and traced his fingers over her hair.

Ellie smelled like cherries and cinnamon. Vincent luxuriated in the scent. His Monster rolled around in it. His beast was curious, peeking out through his eyes to gaze at her.

EDWARD STOLE ANOTHER glance at his baby sister in the rearview. He couldn't make it past those horrific bruises.

Months of torture, experiments, and surgeries, it took seeing her to make it all real. Edward convinced himself that it was some kind of fevered dream. With Ellie bloody and broken, he couldn’t pretend anymore. The life they once had was shattered into a million pieces. 

Turn in there, Vincent commanded.

Pine trees dusted in a powder of sparkling snow. Edward could just make out a driveway between the trees.

Chapter

A h, this is more familiar , Carter said gesturing at the burnt wreck of the building.

The fires went out hours ago, and still heavy black smoke poured into the sky. The security station was a husk of red brick and stucco. The monitors, those that still hung on the walls were cracked and shorted out, some of them completely spider-webbed.

"According to the Fire Marshal, one of the homemade explosive devices was used on the load-bearing wall at the back of the station, Carter pointed out. The roof trembled on its braces tenuously.

Vetler turned to his partner. Carter was a tall man with supple brown skin that had a yellow burst. Broad shoulders, his build announced he went to the gym three times a week.

Carter’s head was bald. He wore a perfectly groomed goatee. Deep-set, inquisitive eyes and a wide triangular nose decorated a handsome face.

Impeccably dressed in a navy three-piece suit, he stood near the opening with a small spiral-bound notebook in hand. Carter gave the room an impressed look.

Vetler picked his way through the debris. He was rocking some heavy five o'clock shadow to match his spiky brown hair. It looked like he had just run his fingers through it this morning because he had.

Dressed in tattered jeans and an old army jacket he was stopped twice by local law enforcement on-site. Vetler had to hang his badge over his coat pocket so people would know he was FBI. Carter was still laughing about it.

Vetler stepped through the doorway into the decimated corridor beyond. Carter ducked in after, gaping at the devastation. Water dripped from every plain. They stood in nearly two inches of it. They followed the path of destruction down the hall past a heavy steel door that had been torn through.

Vetler lay his hand against the twisted metal with a whistle. How did they say this happened? he asked.

Carter flipped back through his meticulous notes. He read the statement off verbatim.

Heat from the explosion made the metal super-hot. When the sprinklers kicked in it rapidly cooled causing the metal to shrink and twist. Carter’s rich voice purred.

With a gloved hand, Shane Vetler pulled a piece of leathery, cooked skin from between two jagged pieces.

My ass, he grumbled.

Vetler made a face stepping through the opening.

Carter inspected it. The problem was he couldn't argue. It was usually easy to Skully Vetler. Today he wasn't having any such luck. He gave the hall a disgusted look before following his partner further into the building.

They walked down a long corridor with black body bags lying like dominoes on the floor. Shane crouched down next to one, balancing on the balls of his feet. He unzipped the heavy plastic peering inside.

Without having to have him ask, Carter, cited from his notes again.

The unfortunate victims in corridor two-J were killed by one of the many explosions that went off inside the building.

Shane glanced over his shoulder. Blood painted the walls in large patches. Chunks of soffit and drywall were cracked, and pieces missing. Water dripped from a few broken pipes.

Where was the soot, the curling paint?

Vetler studied the raw, red meat flayed from the bones of the victim’s arms. What he did not see were burns. He did not find shrapnel in-bedded in the wounds, no traces of soot, or smoke inhalation around the nose or mouth.

He crab-walked to the next body bag and did a similar investigation of its contents. Again, he did not find anything that agreed with the statements that were taken by first responders.

What he did find on this victim were bite marks, torn skin, and heavy damage that could be construed as an animal attack.

Carter didn't even try to offer up a theory. He simply looked from his notes down at the victims lying within the black plastic. Vetler came to his feet and turned to his partner.

Do you smell smoke in here? I mean right here, not back there, he asked pointing the good forty yards and to the right where the first blast had gone off.

Again, Carter did not argue. He simply shook his head.

Splashed blood on the walls, the flesh that studded the plaster led them to another thick steel door. Besides a little soot, the door was pristine. The wall next to it however had been blown to hell.

Chunks of concrete and rebar lay forlorn at their feet. Here the tile in the hallways changed from gleaming white to a black and white checker pattern painted a sickly green tinge from the overhead light. Blood soaked into the cracks of the linoleum.

The hallway had massive steel doors cut in every ten feet. A smaller more condensed security station sat at the center of a rotunda with spokes pointing in the four cardinal directions. The reinforced glass busted out.

Blood pooled inches from Vetler's feet. He moved purposefully toward the station. Slipping inside, he noted the lock was shot out.

Vetler did a quick scan of the small room with its Formica desk. An empty gun safe, another set of broken and shorted-out flat-screen TVs. Shane spotted the computer tower tucked neatly beneath the desk on the right side. He produced a four-inch switchblade from his jacket pocket.

Shoving the tip into the seam, he pried the CD drawer open. Shane slid the unlabeled disk into his pocket. He got to the third drawer before heavy footsteps came tromping up the hallway. Vetler dropped the DVD into his pocket stealthily.

I'm sorry, gentlemen, but you cannot be in here. This is restricted access, the lead guard commanded.

Carter plastered a friendly smile on his face. He pulled his credentials free. We're FBI, I'm agent Carter, and that is my partner Agent Shane Vetler.

I don't care who you are. You are not allowed in this part of the hospital. I'm going to have to ask you to leave, the guard shot back.

Carter looked at him appraisingly. He was betting the man was ex-military, marine maybe. He was tall, and well-built for his age, dressed in an exceedingly expensive silk wool suit. A Rolex glinted from his wrist.

Security here sure paid well.

I was given to understand the FBI would have special access to the hospital after such a horrible event.

The guards stared him down. I'm going to have to ask you to leave. As I said, no one is allowed in this part of the hospital. It's not safe. His voice was a monotone that held strength and authority.

Muscles in the man's jaw bunched with the veiled threat.

Vetler’s attention was drawn to one of the cells with a missing steel door. He had seen thinner doors in bank vaults. Yet this one door out of all the others was missing. He crossed to it using the rapidly rising heat of the conversation to cover him.

Vetler wandered inside. The walls were stainless steel, a toilet, and a sink were its only features. There were dents to either side of the door on the inside. Blood smeared across them.

Vetler pressed his hand to the twisted metal wondering what the hell could have the strength to do something like that. The thick chunks of torn metal in the seam on the left side suggested it was torn free.

Annoyance radiated from Carter. It surprised Shane. Carter did not rattle. He was sure and calm about everything they saw. Shane shrugged. Carter dragged his head around in a circle. His jaw bunched.

All right, not safe, Vetler said. He gave the lead guard a tight-lipped smile. Don't suppose you boys could show us the way out of here?

The two FBI agents stayed silent as they were led through a maze of hallways and corridors, many more painted in blood.

Whatever happened here they hadn't had the time to clean up that was evident. The guards escorted them to the parking lot. Shane pressed his lips together into a tight thin line, giving Carter his best shrug.

Carter exhaled through his nose with irritation, loosening his midnight-blue tie. Carter shook his head. Maybe he spent too much time with Shane Vetler.

His crazy conspiracy theories were beginning to make more sense every day especially, after what he saw inside that building. The security in that place had more brass than the entire FBI put together. Not your average security gig.

C'mon. Shane slapped him in the center of his chest. I got something to show you.

You're not pissed they ran us out of there? Carter asked. Peeling his jacket off, he hooked it over his shoulder with one hand.

Of course, but unlike you, I'm used to being treated like the crazy guy, Vetler said wiggling his eyebrows.

This stinks, James Carter said.

You're just now starting to think that? Vetler asked opening his door on the rental car.

Chapter

Susan opened her office door. Her eyes narrowed to see Thomas's pasty jowls and expensive wool suit sitting behind her immense rosewood desk. He gave her a smile only wolves wear.

Susan straightened her narrow shoulders on instinct and plastered that fake, polite smile she wore as her armor onto her face.

Thomas, I was not aware we had an appointment. She came into the room shutting the door slowly.

Your long-lost pup finally returned. It only cost us half the facility, he accused.

I’ve warned both you and Stella countless times, Thomas, play with fire and court the certainty of being burnt. Your rather lucky the destruction isn’t worse, she said smugly.

Thomas shifted his shoulders. He adjusted his tie. And he did it all to a running scream in the back of his head. The pernicious little bitch knew just how to punch his buttons.

I see your bruises are healing nicely, he baited.

Several of my patients less so, Susan shot back.

Thomas’s smile curled his lips in a mock pout. Perhaps if you had listened to me and dosed them the security agents wouldn’t have felt the need to put them down.

Their psychological proclivities are worse than my patients, forgive me if I question their judgment.

Funny you should say so. I took a look at the notes you gave Stevenson. Along with insights into your favorite pet, you put in secondary orders. Who’s the girl, Susan?

A blood relative to Patient 12. I thought since your security force could not keep him behind the heavy steel walls of the facility, perhaps her capture would allow me to continue my research.

Thomas had a feeling Susan was keeping something about that lab rat secret. What's so special about him?

Susan’s polite arrogance was a shield to hide her dancing thoughts. He was the first patient to not only survive the more dangerous of my experiments but of yours as well.

She pulled her silver-rimmed spectacles from her nose, folded them, and slipped them into the pocket of her lab coat.

I chose Patient 17 to suffer the trials of Welsley's questionable research. You went over my head to Mirriam Cheswick and had 12 dosed with the strain anyway. It killed him. Lucky for both of us he reacted so well to mine.

And you believe this girl will react just as well?

I have never dealt in certainties. The serum is volatile and unpredictable, Susan reminded him coldly.

Don't pretend with me. You wouldn't waste The Foundation's time unless you suspected as much.

Susan didn't say anything. Let him draw his own conclusions for now. It would give her more time.

Yes, Edward’s blood was rather remarkable. It opened myriad possibilities. And Susan believed explained why Vincent survived his rather harrowing experience with the being that made him what he was. However this virus was passed, it had something to do with blood.

But without a look at the uninfected subject that contained the anomaly, she could never rule it out. That was why Susan added young Ms. Fredricks' capture to the task of bringing Vincent in. They would never catch Vincent. The girl on the other hand was at the least probable. And where the girl went, Susan was sure Vincent would follow.

If you’re so sure about the addictive properties of the newest strain, why is it you refuse to dose the last of the experimentals with it?

I'll not be drawn into another debate about this, Thomas. One positive case does not prove the properties one hundred percent effective. As I told Stella, we have no idea what it might do to those infected with other versions of the serum.

The security risk merits the chance.

Not in my opinion.

The escape of your lab rats has shaken the company. We could lose the defense contracts.

Thomas’s breath was quick and shallow. A red blush marched over his rotund cheeks. She angered him. Good.

Both the safekeeping and finding of those that did make it out of the facility are jobs that fall under your purview, Thomas, not mine. The latest serum could prove dangerous to the patients I have left. I'll not take that risk. Not for any reason.

Thomas drummed his fingertips impatiently over her desk. His beady gaze slid up and down her slender, willowy figure.

The doctors here cowered in fear of Thomas Wellburn. He held the reins on the security. A gift from senator Harris. Susan Bennett had no such worry. All they could do was put a bullet in her.

Is that all, Thomas? Her voice held none of its normal austere arrogance. Susan sounded tired.

He scowled wondering what button to press to get her to do what he wanted. Problem was he kept coming up empty. But he had time. Thomas pushed back on the chair and stood.

Think it over, Susan, he said and walked out.

She didn't turn to watch him. The door shut with an audible click. Susan dropped her head. Her eyes closed. She walked around her desk and sat down keying into her desktop. Her mouse pointer hovered over a file for a moment or so before she double-clicked on it.

A window opened playing a video.

His black hair was longer. It brushed his shoulders. Vincent was shirtless. Only the worn blue hospital scrubs hanging from his narrow hips. Splashed in color. Drops and drips, and splatters of paint decorated his flawless skin. A smile bloomed on his handsome face as the brush danced over the canvas in front of him.

Chapter

Acottage nestled in among the Douglas firs appeared over the crest of a hill. It had a pitched roof with ice sickles dripping from the eaves.

There was a newer, silver, Jeep Liberty, parked beside the house. The wooden porch was painted a bright red to match the siding. The front wall of the house was clad in river rock. A picture window under the overhanging roof glowed with golden light.

The SUV slowed to a stop. Edward looked questioningly at Vincent. He opened the door.

Hang here a minute, he told Edward with an angry smirk. Vincent set Ellie down on the seat with care.

The silk of the dog’s golden fur was Anna’s tenuous grasp on reality. She’d gone rounds of heavy sobs and long hours of dejected staring. Now she was asleep. Edward curled his fingers in. He had an urge to touch her.

Vincent walked barefoot in knee-deep snow toward the house. The door opened and a woman spoke to Vincent. Edward couldn't get a good look at her from this angle.

Edward did note that she threw her arms around the kid happily, even covered in blood.

Vincent hopped off the porch and came back to the car. The woman left the door open. She appeared again a few seconds later with a tall pair of winter boots on.

She was short, about forty pounds overweight. She couldn't be any older than thirty. Her round face was framed by hair the color of brown sugar that fell in thick waves just past her shoulders. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a cream-colored cowl neck sweater, she had soft hazel eyes. Her cheeks were round and rosy. All in all, she reminded Edward of an apple, plain but kinda sweet.

VINCENT OPENED THE passenger door. A smile pulled up at the corners of Ellie’s mouth. His six-foot-two frame loomed over her. She had to lean back craning her neck to look him in the eye.

Vincent had a lovely face with a pointed chin and wide sculpted cheekbones. Vincent’s nose was off just slightly. It had been broken once or twice in its day. His jaw was strong and sweeping, his arched brow heavy. It made his eyes all the more amazing.

They were the color of cloudy skies. Swirling silver and gray with tiny hints of blue, surrounded by a thick fringe of black lashes. Like storm clouds roiling in the sky, a thousand shades of gray thundered and crashed. They changed with his moods. From a pale gray of morning skies just before the rain, to the darkest approaching storm.

Ellie wondered if they changed like that when he was a human. Or if that was just one more aspect of his Monster.

Vincent’s lips were full and sensual. They were dark, flushed no matter what he did. His short, wild hair stuck up and out. It was a glossy black the way a starling’s wing is black. It shined with a thousand other colors, blues, and greens, even a hint of red.

Vincent leaned in slipping one arm beneath her legs, the other around her back, cradling her against his feverish chest. Ellie wrapped her right arm around the back of his neck and flashed a smile at Charlie as she passed.

Hello, sweetie, Charlie said with a wave in Ellie's direction.

THE DOG SAT UP CURIOUSLY, wagging his tail in anticipation. Edward opened the door and the woman turned that smile on him.

Wow, hello there, Charlie said. She looked into the passenger seat at Anna. Is this my other patient? 

He hesitated a moment. Edward nodded. Anna.

Well, you will definitely be of service then. I don't have a wheelchair. Could you help me get her inside? she asked, opening the door.

Hi, honey, I'm Charlie. I'm here to get you feeling better, she cooed gently to Anna.

Why don't we start by getting you out of the cold, Charlie said, nodding to Edward.

He rounded the front of the dented SUV and lifted her carefully, heading toward the house. Charlie waited for the dog to hop down, and closed the car door behind him.

And who are you? she asked, rubbing him between the ears. The dog barked dancing around her happily. Her caring laughter followed them inside.

Chapter

The house was as comfortable and cozy as its exterior promised. The far wall had a beige couch with overstuffed pillows and round arms. A double row of framed floral prints hung on the wall behind it. A few different colored pillows tossed on one end, with a knit throw bunched up. Steam danced above a cup of tea sitting on the corner of one of the wooden coffee tables that flanked it. A heavily dog-eared paperback perched next to it.

A picture window dominated the east wall flanked by two built-in bookshelves laden with medical texts, and mystery novels. Vincent lay Ellie on the bench beneath the window between them. He helped her position the pillows. Her bloody jean jacket was a heap on the floor next to them.

Edward stood there not knowing quite what to do. The dog came bounding past snuffling and licking at Anna’s hand. The door closed behind Charlie.

Why don't you set her there for now, Charlie directed, pointing to the couch. You guys look hungry.

Charlie turned, heading further into the house. Edward lay Anna on the couch making sure to be gingerly with her head. The dog trotted past him. He lay down on the floor in front of the couch crossing his paws.

I've known Charlie since she was a kid, Vincent told Edward, running his fingers through Ellie's hair. She'll take good care of them.

How is that possible? Edward asked.

What? Vincent turned to him.

She is in her thirties, you're only nineteen, twenty at the outset, Edward stated.

Vincent glanced at Ellie. That only fed Edward’s annoyance. He closed his eyes, rolling his shoulders. Forcing his body to relax, Edward shoved his anger down by inches. A trick he’d used since he was a child growing up with an abusive father.

Kind of a long story.

THE MORE EDWARD PUFFED up like an angry dog, the more Vincent wanted to rush across the room and rip his damned throat out. He swallowed it down for Ellie. Not the easiest thing he could admit. As it was, Vincent’s fingers danced at his sides.

Does it look like I'm going anywhere? Edward asked, voice full of attitude.

Vincent breathed in deep letting it out slowly, squaring his shoulders.

Edward, Ellie interjected.

I used to visit my grandfather at Saint Verens. Vincent showed me how to paint while my mother spent time with my Grandfather. We became good friends, didn't we?

Charlie flashed a warm smile that Vincent returned. His annoyance melted a little in the face of it. She sat a tray with a kettle and a dish of cookies on the coffee table.

I started something for dinner. I’d like to get a look at the girls before too long, Charlie said.

Edward gaped at her dumbfounded. Her explanation was so simple and yet posed so many inexplicable questions.

C'mon, handsome, you can help me bring her back, Charlie said, patting Edward on his muscular arm.

Vincent mouthed the words 'thank you' at her. Ellie reached out for him and Vincent couldn’t hide his grin. He took her hand laying a kiss against her knuckles.

CHARLIE NODDED AND jerked her head to the left. She waited for Edward to lift Anna and turned leading them deeper into the house. Edward hesitated at the entrance to the hall scowling. Anna shifted her weight and moaned. He smoothed her flame-red hair back careful of her bruises and cuts.

They passed a well-appointed kitchen. Cinnamon and a hundred other wonderful scents lingered there. They took a left, passing a bedroom, and another right that led into a large room filled with medical equipment.

The center of the room had a table like you would find in most doctors’ offices, complete with sanitary paper. Charlie pointed him to the table. He set Anna down. The dog trotted past Edward and sat down to one side of the table.

Charlie pulled a stethoscope along with a few other tools out of the top drawer of a bank of cabinets behind the examination table. She laid them out on the counter and slid the stethoscope around her neck. Anna practically vibrated with anticipation.

You okay? he asked.

Edward felt like a complete moron the moment the words left his lips. Of course, she wasn't okay.

Anna plastered her lips together. She started to nod but stopped suddenly. Agony radiated through her, even with the painkillers.

I'll be fine, she said. Her tone was amazingly calm.

Edward smiled with recognition. His mother was like that. No matter how stressful the situation was. No matter how violent their father got. She had this ability to stay completely calm. The older he got Edward realized it was a coping mechanism.

Ellie thought it meant she didn't care.

Keeping cool in those situations was a gift. It kept control of the fear. He spent years trying to perfect the technique.

Edward wanted to take her hand. The darkness inside him made him think twice. It moved and writhed. Begged. It wasn't as hard to ignore as before, so he did just that. Though, he stood there glued to the spot, afraid to get too close.

Anna awoke something inside him. Delicate vanilla, the brush of her fragile skin caressed his most base and instinctual need for sex and violence.

Charlie’s eyes were hard and questing, scanning every inch of Anna's face. She inspected the wound on the back of Anna’s skull. The hardness of her expression did not translate to the warmth of her voice, however.

Throughout her questions, Charlie became even more affectionate and empathetic. Edward wouldn’t have believed that was possible.

Vincent cleared his throat.

Edward jumped. He didn’t hear footsteps.

So, you can't see anything? Charlie questioned.

No. Nothing, Anna answered.

El wants to talk to you, Vincent said.

Edward glanced at