The In Death Collection Books 16-20 - J. D. Robb [558]
“Yes. Yes, I see her. It’s a little white dog, silly little dog trotting along. She laughs at the dog.”
“What does the woman look like?”
“She’s pretty. A homey sort of pretty. She has brown hair, light brown hair, straight to her shoulders. Her eyes are . . . I can’t see the color, because it’s dark. They might be brown, too, but it’s too dark to tell. She’s white, and looks very fit and healthy. She looks happy as she walks the dog. She talks to the dog. ‘Just a quick walk tonight,’ she says. ‘You be a good doggy now.’ ”
Her breath hitched, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “There’s someone there. There’s someone watching.”
“It’s all right. He can’t hurt you. He can’t see you or hear you. Can you see him?”
“I . . . It’s dark. Shadows. In the shadows, watching her. I can hear him, breathing—fast—but she can’t. She can’t hear him. She doesn’t know he’s watching. She should go back now, go back into the lights, away from the shadows. She needs to go back! But she doesn’t. She doesn’t know he’s there until he . . . No!”
“He can’t hurt you, Celina. Listen to my voice. Nothing can hurt you. You’re safe. Breathe in the blue, breathe out the white.”
Celina’s breathing evened, but her voice continued to shake. “He’s hurting her. He jumped at her, hit her, and the little dog ran away, trailing his leash. He’s hurting her, hitting her. She fights. Blue, her eyes are blue. I see them now, and they’re afraid. She tries to run, but he’s too big. He’s too fast! She can’t scream, can’t scream when he’s on top of her. Crushing her.”
“Celina. Can you see him?”
“I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to. He might see me. If he sees me, he’ll—”
“He can’t see you. You’re floating, and he can’t see you. You’re safe, and floating.”
“He can’t see me.”
“That’s right.”
“There’s nothing I can do.” She shifted restlessly in her chair. “Why do I have to see this? I can’t help her.”
“Yes, you can. If you look at him, if you tell me what you see, it will help her. Look at him, Celina.”
“He’s big. He’s very big. Strong. She can’t push him away, she can’t fight. She—”
“Look at him, Celina. Just him now.”
“He’s . . . Black, he’s wearing black. Like the shadows. His hands . . . his hands are pulling and tearing at her clothes. He calls her a whore. ‘See how you like it now, whore. It’s your turn now, bitch.’ ”
“His face, Dr. Mira,” Eve murmured. “Give me his face.”
“Look at his face, Celina.”
“I’m afraid.”
“He doesn’t see you. You don’t have to be afraid of him. Look at his face. What do you see?”
“Rage. Rage. Contorted. His eyes are black, black and blind. I can’t see his eyes. He’s wearing something over them. Shades, shades over his eyes, with a strap around his head. His head shines. His face shines. Horrible. He’s raping her. Grunting and slamming himself into her. I don’t want to see.”
“Just his face.”
“There’s something over it. A mask? It shines. Not a mask. Something shiny and slick. Not white. Not white under the shine. Brown. Tanned. I don’t know.”
Her breathing went rapid, thready as she turned her head side to side. “His face is wide, wide and square.”
“Eyebrows,” Eve prompted.
“Do you see his eyebrows, Celina?”
“Very dark and thick. He’s killing her now. Pulling the red ribbon tight, tighter. She can’t breathe. We can’t breathe.”
“I have to bring her out,” Mira said when Celina started to gasp for air. “Celina, turn away now. Turn away from them now and look at your star. Watch your star. Can you see it?”
“Yes, I . . .”
“It’s all you see. Only the star. It’s beautiful, it’s peaceful. It’s guiding you back now. Bringing you home. You’re floating down now, very slowly. You feel relaxed, refreshed. When I tell you to open your eyes, you’ll wake up, and you’ll remember everything you saw, everything we talked about. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I want to wake up.”
“You’re waking up now, coming up through the layers of sleep. Open your eyes, Celina.”
She blinked them open. “Dr. Mira.”
“Yes. Just stay still for a moment. I’m going to