Marked by the Moon (Nightcreature 9)

How did you put a bullet into the brain of someone you’d slept with? It couldn’t be that easy.

Hell, it shouldn’t be that easy.

Chapter 24

Despite her roiling mind and equally roiling stomach, Alex fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. The last time she’d slept like that, she’d been in Julian’s arms.

Eventually, the nagging thought that there was something she needed to do, somewhere she needed to be, someone she needed to see, penetrated, and Alex fought her way to the surface. She’d never been so bone-deep tired.

Ebony velvet darkness floated around her. She had no idea what time it was, even what day it was. Her mind was fuzzy; her mouth tasted like dirt, and her stomach was so damn empty. She lifted her head, and the darkness spun.

“Bad idea,” she said, reaching out to touch the bedside lamp.

Light flooded the room, revealing a sliver of gray at the edge of the curtains, which, around here in the land of eternal twilight, did nothing to help her figure out how long she’d been asleep.

She caught the scent of salt and flour, and her stomach rumbled. When she turned her head, she discovered that someone—Ella—had left her a package of saltines and a note.

Eat these BEFORE you get out of bed.

Considering the state of her belly, who was she to argue? Alex devoured the entire package without dropping a single crumb. Amazingly, when she lifted her head this time, the world stayed right where it belonged.

“Ella, you’re a genius,” she muttered, dragging herself to the shower.

Twenty minutes and a cup of tea—the idea of coffee brought the nausea back—later, Alex was dressed and out the door. She’d stop by Juli

an’s house, see if he was there. Though if he was, would she have awoken so dizzy?

“I’m fine now,” she said. If talking to herself was fine.

The clock in Ella’s kitchen had read just after noon, which meant Alex had slept for two hours. Unless she’d slept for twenty-six.

The sky was cloudy. Since the sun made an appearance only a few hours each day, cloudy just wasn’t fair. But the moon would rise in another few, and perhaps by then the clouds would be gone. The thought that she and Julian might run together beneath those silver rays brought a lightness to her heart that Alex didn’t want to examine. She had enough to worry about.

Alex knocked on Barlow’s door. Several minutes later she knocked again. She was deliberating moving on to Cade’s place—maybe his brother had found him and taken him there instead—when she lifted her nose and sniffed.

Snow and trees, his distinctive scent, and it was coming from inside. Too strong to be anything but Barlow. Without a second thought, Alex turned the knob and went in.

She searched the entire house without finding him. But every time she walked past the living room, the smell became sharper. Finally, she just followed her nose.

The scent intensified near the large leather chair. Right next to it stood a squat, glass-topped end table, in the center a picture frame that hadn’t been there before. Alex didn’t need to turn on the lamp to see that the picture in the frame was of Alana. She turned the lamp on anyway. All the gloom was starting to get to her.

“I know you’re here,” she said to the empty room.

The room stayed empty.

“I’ll stay until you have a brain aneurysm from the anger it takes to keep that invisibility bubble up and running.” Nothing. “Come on, Julian,” she said softly. “Talk to me.”

Slowly he materialized. First a mere shadow—there, gone, there again—then more and more solid until he was so close she could reach out and touch. But she didn’t.

His back to her, his gaze remained on Alana’s face. “I didn’t know she left,” he said. “If I’d gone after her right away, I could have stopped her.”

The pain in his voice made Alex’s throat tighten, but she made herself ask. She needed to know. “Why did she leave?”

He reached out and ran a fingertip down the glass, right over the smiling woman’s cheek. “She needed something from me that I couldn’t give her.”

“What is there on this earth that you couldn’t give?” And what fool of a woman turned her back on a love as deep as Julian’s?

All the breath seemed to go out of him, and his shoulders slouched as his head sagged. “A child,” he said. “All she ever wanted in this world was a child.”