With Visions of Red: Book 2 (The Broken Bonds 2)

Avery’s eyebrows pull together. “Are you all right?”

I nod, waving her off. “Just tired. So you’re thinking she was exsanguinated.”

“Actually, yes.” She points to the marks again. “Probably strung upside down by her ankles, then the offender sliced her carotid. Her heart did all the work. She’s completely drained of blood.”

“Would that be enough to cover the grass at the crime scene?”

“I’m running tests on the samples brought in on the reeds, determining if it’s all the same blood type and a match to the victim’s. It’s possible he diluted her blood to make it stretch…or—”

“Or he drained more than one person to get his desired effect,” I finish.

She grimaces. “Go home, Sadie. Open up a bottle of wine, watch stupid reality TV, and get some rest.”

I glance at the time on my phone. “Almost nine. You going to take your own advice?”

She looks down at the body, then at me. “I have been feeling a little under the weather, but maybe I’ll just sleep in. I need to finish here.” She smiles, and it’s comforting. Proof that, in this world surrounded by death, I surround myself with the people who easily fit in to this dark realm. “What did you need?”

Peeking at my phone again, I glimpse Colton’s missed call. We’re supposed to meet in less than ten minutes, and I’m here—at the place I tried so hard not to go.

With a determined breath, I fill my lungs. Then I put my phone away and roll back my sleeve. Avery watches me with guarded wonder, but she doesn’t question as I grab a pair of scissors from her table and snip a thread from the rope.

I hand it to her, finally looking up to meet her curious eyes. “Please keep this between us. Quinn, and especially Carson, have no business knowing. This doesn’t concern them.”

She nods as she accepts the thread. “Okay, but just what am I looking for?”

I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. “I need to know what kind of material it is. And I need to know its origin.”

“Shit, Sadie…”

“It may be nothing,” I assure her. “But, I need it compared with the ropes from every crime scene. If you can somehow make that happen soon—”

“I will,” she says, taking my hand in hers. “And whatever you’ve gotten yourself involved in, get out of it. I refuse to have you lying on my table. I will figure out a way to bring you back just so I can kill you if that happens.”

Her concern brings a smile to my face. “I’m beyond careful. I promise. I’m just…chasing a lead.”

“All right.” She releases my hand and places the sample of rope into an evidence bag. I watch with a heavy pressure bearing down on my chest as she seals it shut.

Carson was wrong about most of his theory, but unfortunately, he was also utterly right on one aspect: I did make a mistake on the Roanoke profile. There were two killers.

And the second killer is letting me know just how badly I fucked up.

Without You

Colton

“We were advised that you had a weapon.” The officer who clubbed me over the back of my head stands before me with his hands anchored on his belt.

“By who?” My anger ramps as I rub at the rising knot on my head. Not only am I surrounded by four of Arlington’s finest, but their interference prevented me from getting to Sadie.

I look around the cop¸ trying to see down the dark alleyway. I’m close to throwing a punch if he doesn’t get out of my way.

“We’re not at liberty to give you that information,” the cop says, eying me suspiciously. I was the one attacked, yet he’s treating me as if I attacked him. I need to get out of this. I need to find Sadie.

“Fine. You apprehended my cell phone—which is clearly not a weapon. I’d like to leave now. I’m still working.” I nod toward the club.

He says something into his shoulder mic, holding out a hand to stop me. Pissed, I lean back against the cop car, my gaze trained on the alley. It’s vacant. Like she just vanished.

I wipe my hand down my face, tension bleeding into every muscle. She could’ve come here for me, but then realized cops were watching the club. She fled before they made her. No. That doesn’t feel right. I’m searching for an excuse—because I can’t consider the other possibilities.