“There’s enough shit in your life, darlin’. You don’t need any more from me. And shouldn’t one be kind to their beloved? Shouldn’t I treat you as if you’re a treasure? Because you are. I know that makes me sound ridiculously old fashioned, and maybe a bit too mushy, but it’s true. I’m not one to be an asshole to the one who means the most to me. Especially when I never know how long we’ll have together in a lifetime.”
“It’s not mushy.” She kisses my hand. “And I was thinking just last night that I’m done wasting time, Lucien. What we have is too precious to waste. If you want me to move into your home, our home, with you, I will. Sanguine and I can move over today, and we can slowly shift the majority of my things over a little at a time.”
“I’ll hire movers,” I suggest.
“We have a coven of people who’d love to help,” she reminds me. “And I’ll take them up on it. We’ll make it work.”
“Thank you.” I park in front of Daphne’s store, cut the engine, and turn to Millie. “I mean it.”
“I know.” We lean in and kiss, then nuzzle noses before getting out of the car and walking to the front door of Reflections, Daphne’s antique store. Brielle unlocks the door and lets us in.
“Everyone’s here,” she says as we follow her to a little cluster of couches on the showroom floor where Cash is already seated. Brielle joins her husband, and Millie and I sit on a green velvet sofa across from them. Daphne paces the room, chewing on her thumbnail.
“You okay, Daph?” Millie asks.
“I’m agitated,” she replies. “And, honestly, I’m freaked the hell out.”
“Sit,” Brielle says. “Let’s talk this out.”
Daphne sits in a pink armchair and smiles as she settles in. “A spinster woman owned this chair, and she enjoyed knitting and soap operas in her old age. She’s quite the character.”
“How can you own this place?” I ask her, intrigued. “Knowing that every single thing you bring in and touch will be a psychic event, and you’ll never know if it’s benign or sinister?”
“I have shields,” she answers. “And a process to go through. Sometime, after all of this is over and we have free time on our hands again, you can come by, and I’ll explain it to you.”
“I’d be fascinated,” I reply with a nod. “And I’ll take you up on that.”
“First,” Cash says, getting right down to business, “let’s talk about a dead serial killer who still has it out for these three women.”
“Such a fun topic.” Millie quirks a lip. “I think we can all finally agree that the man we saw dead on the street, and the severed body parts that have shown up, are his work. I don’t know how, but it has to be him. He’s also left blood smears for us to find. He’s back to taunting us. Or, me, anyway.”
“My dreams are changing,” Daphne says. “I didn’t want to mention it before until I knew for sure, and it’s not the same as it was when Brielle was the focus. Then, I simply stepped into her dreams and watched as if it was a movie.”
“What’s it like this time?” I ask.
“Millie’s always had the dreams.” She looks at her sister. “Even when we were small, her dreams frightened her, and she’d come find one of us to sleep with.”
I hold Millie’s hand more tightly at the thought of her as a frightened child.
“I’ve never really been a dreamer, that’s not my gift,” Daphne continues. “Nor is it Brielle’s. But, for some reason, I start to dream whenever he starts making an appearance. So now I’m going back in time, obviously to previous lives.”
I lean forward, instantly captivated.
“I see Lucien and Millie, fighting together and losing every time. They’re dressed differently and even speak different languages. They can’t hear me or see me, and it’s like I’m watching a rerun on TV. It’s fucking frustrating.”
“How is he doing this?” Brielle asks. “He’s a spirit.”
“It’s not unheard of,” I reply. “Poltergeists exist. Move things around. You hear all the time about people with haunted houses, and their things being moved. It’s not out of the question, given how strong of an entity he is, that he can do these things.”
“Stanger things have happened,” Millie mumbles and then looks around the room as everyone stares at her.
“Really?” Cash says. “Stranger things than this have happened to you?”
“It’s an expression.” She waves him off. “I think the hardest part now is going to be finding him, given that he isn’t in a physical body, and we have no idea where he’s keeping his victims. And while we’re on that subject, why is he suddenly killing men? It doesn’t make sense. He has a thing for us, and he killed Brielle over and over again. He should be killing me over and over again if he stays on the same course. The men don’t make sense.”