The in Death Collection Books 11-15 - J. D. Robb [680]
But nothing was there.
The knife was there.
In the dream she crouched down, picked up the knife by the hilt.
She felt the slick warm wetness that ran from it onto her hand.
When she looked, it wasn’t the girl now, but a baby. Hardly more than a baby. Cut to pieces, curled up tight. Her eyes were like a doll’s, staring.
She remembered. She remembered. Such a little thing. So much blood for such a little body. And the man who’d done it, the father, mad on Zeus. The baby screaming, screaming, as Eve had charged up the stairs.
Too late. She’d been too late to save the baby. Killed the father, but lost the child.
She hadn’t saved them, the baby, the girl. And their blood was on her hands.
The knife gleamed over her fingers.
The room wasn’t white any longer. It was small and dirty and cold. So cold. The red washed in from the light through the window. Over her hands. Little hands now on the hilt of a knife.
When he walked in the door, the red light bounced off his face like a shadow of the blood yet to be spilled.
“Eve.” Roarke gathered her close, holding tight when she struggled. Her skin was iced. As she wept in her sleep, it tore his heart to pieces. “Eve, wake up. Come back now. Just a dream.” He pressed his lips to her brow, her cheeks. “Just a dream.”
“Kill the father, save the child.”
“Ssh.” He ran his hands soothingly over her back, under the old white shirt she favored for sleeping. “I’m here with you. You’re safe.”
“So much blood.”
“God.” He sat up with her, held her in his lap and rocked her in the dark.
“I’m all right.” She turned her face into his shoulder. Somehow just the scent of him could center her. “Sorry. I’m okay.”
“I’m not, so you can hold on to me awhile.”
She slid her arms around his waist. “Something about Hannah Wade, the way . . . the way she died. It reminded me of this little girl. Baby really. The little girl whose father ripped her up. I got there too late.”
“Yes, I remember. It was just before we met.”
“She haunts me. I couldn’t save her, couldn’t get to her in time. And I think that maybe if you hadn’t come into my life right after, that’s the one that might’ve broken me. But she haunts me, Roarke. A little ghost to add to all the others. To add to myself.”
“You remember her, Eve.” He brushed his lips over her hair. “Perhaps you’re the only one who does.”
In the morning, she got up early enough to do a hard, sweaty workout, then took a long swim. She beat off the fatigue and the vague, nagging hangover from the nightmare.
And because she knew he’d keep at her until she gave in anyway, she sat down in the sitting area of the bedroom and ate the oatmeal Roarke ordered for her.
But she cast a suspicious eye on the milky liquid in the glass beside her coffee. “What’s that?”
“A protein drink.”
“I don’t need a protein drink. I’m eating the stupid oatmeal, aren’t I?”
“You’ll have both.” He stroked a hand over Galahad’s head, then gave his attention to Eve rather than the morning financials scrolling by on-screen. “They’ll offset the candy bar you probably plan to have for lunch. You didn’t sleep well.”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind. How come you don’t have to have a protein drink?”
He forked up a section of grapefruit. “Can’t abide the stuff. And I’m not the one who’s going to have to deal with the mayor today.”
“Yeah. I have to get started on that.”
“I’m sure he’ll find it an even more unpleasant way to start his day than you do yours. Drink up, Lieutenant.”
She scowled, but drank. She was actually starting to like whatever he dumped in those mixes. “This data doesn’t go to the rest of the team yet. I have to report it to Whitney, probably Tibble, and won’t that be fun?”
“We should have your virus fully ID’d today. You’re closing in.”
“I’ve been thinking about that, too.” She looked toward the data center. “I’ve been making plenty of noise. They’ll know I’ve got some solid leads now. Could they dump that virus in this system here?”
“This system’s security is a