…
Faith had believed she was ready for this, but as she sat across from the doctor, she had to fight the urge to put her hands over her ears. Instead, she knotted her fingers tight on her lap to stop the shaking as his monotone words hammered into her brain.
“I’m sorry.” The doctor finally shut up.
She swallowed, then cleared her throat. “Me, too.”
Part of her wanted to just go, curl up in a ball in the dark somewhere, clamp her eyes shut, and just wait for it to happen. Stop fighting the inevitable. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t expected this, but for the first time it really sank in—she was going to die.
Heat washed over her. Then cold. She didn’t want to die. Not now. An image of Ash flashed up in her mind. In that moment, she craved his presence with a desperation she hadn’t known could exist. Needed him to wrap her up in his arms, tell her everything would be all right. Lie to her…
“Is there someone I can call?” the doctor asked.
She shook her head. “No. I’ll be fine.”
Another lie. But this was too much on top of everything that was going on in her life. So she took a deep breath and pushed it to the back of her mind. She’d deal with it later. But really, what was there to deal with?
It was just a matter of time.
Only thing was she didn’t know how long.
And there were things she needed to do first. She was acting on autopilot as Guy drove her to the office. Luckily, he didn’t try and talk to her; she wasn’t up to polite conversation.
She sat down at her desk and started up the computer, then punched in her mother’s file, except it was gone. In its place was a label—a single letter—A. She went to her own file, thinking she could use the link that had taken her into the file yesterday. But the link was gone.
She punched up file classifications. “A” was “Archived.”
As she sipped her coffee, she cast her mind back to what she had read the previous day. Her mother’s file had been labeled with an F. She looked the reference up and found it corresponded to “Fund-raiser.”
What the hell did that mean?
She jumped up, strode across the room, and hammered on the colonel’s door, pushing it open without waiting for an answer. The colonel glanced up his eyes narrowing on her.
“Faith, how are you?”
She stepped into the room. “The file on my mother. It’s gone.”
“Not gone. Merely archived. Father O’Brien thought it might be stressful for you. No child should see their parents like that.”
She mulled that over. If it had come from the colonel, she would have considered it a load of bollocks; caring did not seem to be his strong point. But perhaps a priest might think like that.
Then she remembered Father O’Brien’s cold eyes and decided no—whatever the reason her mother’s file was now unavailable—saving her feelings didn’t come into it. Without waiting to be asked, she took the chair opposite the colonel and studied him for a moment.
“Okay, tell me. Why do you think Roth was involved in my mother’s death?”
“Roth was in Carlisle at the time. He was in discussions to buy the company where your mother worked. We believe he met her there.”
Something about this wasn’t right. That night, the front door had opened, she’d heard murmured voices, and a man had stepped into the hallway. And then…nothing.
She had never been able to give the police a description of him. She was sure she’d seen him, but whenever she tried to pull his face into focus, something went blank in her brain.
But he’d been blond, not black-haired. She’d swear on it, but she forced herself to nod. “Why? Why did he kill her?”
“Who knows why these creatures behave as they do. Perhaps he was overcome by hunger. Perhaps he’d always planned to kill her. We don’t know.”
“Where’s Tara Roth?”
The colonel’s eyes narrowed at the change of subject. “She’s safe.”
“I want to be in on the interrogation. If she knows anything…”
“She’s unlikely to know anything about your mother. She was only three years old at the time and had no connection with Roth.”
“Where did she grow up? What about her family?”
“She was brought up in Yorkshire by an aunt—dead now. Her mother died when she was a baby and her father is unknown.”
Or not.
Faith had to convince the colonel that she was willing to believe, that he could trust her. First, she needed to see for herself, hear what Tara Roth knew, and make sure she was being treated okay. At least then Faith could set aside a little of her guilt.
“So, if Roth killed my mother. What are you going to do about it?”
“Good. I knew you would be with us once you learned the facts. So, Roth is a vampire.”
Yeah, of course he was. But she bit back the words and gave an encouraging nod.