Jenna Black - Dark Descendant

Based on what I learned, and on the information I was able to dig up—illegally, I must admit—on Alexis’s financial transactions, I made an educated guess as to which security measures he had in place. It seemed likely that the cameras I’d spotted in the trees were indeed motion-activated. There was probably a security center somewhere in the house, complete with a guard who monitored the cameras. However, it was unlikely that triggering the cameras would trip any kind of alarm. The area around Alexis’s home was heavily wooded, and thus full of deer. If an alarm sounded every time a deer passed a camera, it would get old fast.

So, there was definitely security on the grounds, but it wasn’t exactly impenetrable. The house itself was likely another story, but if I needed to get in there to dig Emma up, I’d have a whole new set of problems.

That evening, Jamaal was executed again. It was a hangingthis time, much less gory than the beheading. I’d been relieved when I first saw the noose, thinking that this would be an easier death to witness, but I’d been wrong. It was less gruesome—but it took Jamaal longer to die, and I found his suffering bothered me more than the gore.

Once again, Logan stayed out in the clearing, waiting for Jamaal to revive. And once again, I found myself unable to leave the house on my quest until I’d confirmed that Jamaal was alive.

The one bright spot was that it took Jamaal less time to heal the damage from being hanged, and he and Logan returned to the house less than an hour after the execution. Jamaal was just as exhausted, however, and when I offered him a cup of coffee, he gladly accepted. His eyes were sunken, his cheeks hollow, as he wrapped his hands around the mug and sipped. Physically, he was healing, but I feared the ordeal was putting scars on his soul. That is to say, more scars—I knew without having to be told that he had plenty of them already.

“If I didn’t know any better,” he said, “I’d think you were worried about me.”

I forced something approximating a wry grin. “I’ve been told I’m a bleeding heart. There’s some truth in the accusation.”

He cocked his head, the movement causing the beads to rattle and click. “You know I still suspect you.”

“Yeah, I know. I also know that it wouldn’t take much to ‘prove’ to you that I’m Konstantin’s bitch. I still think you’ve suffered more than enough already.”

For the first time, he smiled. It wasn’t a big smile, but he didn’t try to fight the expression off, either. And I was right. Despite the haunted eyes and hollow cheeks, the smile was devastating. My hormones woke from their long sleep and danced a jig at the sight, and I suppressed a groan. Jamaal was not a man I should be attracted to, no matter how tasty he looked. He thought I was a spy, a traitor who had murdered his friend. He’d threatened me and attacked me, and because of him my sister had been brutalized. Not to mention that he was a descendant of a death goddess and borderline crazy. No smile, no matter how devastating, could erase any of that.

“You really are a bleeding heart, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Either that, or I play one on T.V.”

The smile made another cameo appearance, but faded even more quickly. “You might want to skip tomorrow night’s … festivities, then. If you can.”

“Why?” I held my breath, already knowing I wouldn’t like the answer.

“Logan’s going to choose something heinous for the grand finale.”

As far as I was concerned, what I’d seen so far was more than heinous enough. Then again, I wasn’t descended from some Germanic war god, like Logan was.

“Why?” I asked again. “This whole punishment is barbaric enough as it is. Why would he want to make it worse?”

“Because it’s not just about punishing me for disobeying Anderson’s orders. It’s about giving me a way to prove that I’m committed in spite of what I’ve done. The more I have to go through to win the privilege of staying, the more Anderson—and all the rest—will believe I’m determined to control myself, which I’ve done a shitty job of doing since Emmitt …” His voice faded as grief clouded his eyes.

Impulsively, I reached out and laid my hand over his, wishing I could bring Emmitt back.

During the last couple of days, Jamaal and I seemed to have reached a truce, but that truce only went so far. Jamaal glared and I jerked my hand away, my cheeks heating with a blush.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, wishing the floor would swallow me. What had come over me? Just because we weren’t currently at war with each other didn’t mean we were friends. I pushed my chair away from the table, suddenly desperate to flee the room.

“Do you need any help getting downstairs?” I asked without looking at him.

“No.”

It was the answer I’d expected, and I left the kitchen at a pace just short of a run.

For tonight’s excursion, I dressed all in black, because I’dbe getting out of my car and skulking around, not just driving by. The more inconspicuous I could make myself, the better.

The full moon rode the sky like a beacon, only the occasional thin cloud dimming its light. If my powers were moon-based at all, tonight they would be at their peak, and I had to take advantage of them as best I could. I drove straight to Alexis’s home, the instinct to search there too strong to deny.

Of course, I couldn’t just pull up in front and leave my car in full view while I went exploring on foot, so I drove around until I found a church with a convenient parking lot. My car looked uncomfortably conspicuous in the otherwise empty lot, and I had to walk the better part of a mile to get back to Alexis’s house, but it was the best I could do.

I’d packed a bunch of odds and ends that might be useful—including my gun and my cell phone—in a light black backpack, which I slung over my shoulders as I began the trek that I still worried was a waste of time. The temperature was on its way down to freezing. I wished I’d worn something warmer than lightweight black fleece, and I walked at a pace just short of a jog to keep my teeth from chattering.

It was a long, tense, freezing walk. On foot in a ritzy neighborhood, dressed all in black and carrying a gun in my backpack, I didn’t dare let anyone see me, so any time I caught sight of headlights in the distance, I took cover.

By the time I reached the fringes of Alexis’s property, I was sweaty beneath my fleece, although my cheeks stung and burned from the cold wind and I shivered with chills. I was struck again by the certainty that Emma was here somewhere, the feeling stronger than ever. Unfortunately, “somewhere” wasn’t going to do me much good. We couldn’t dig up the whole place searching for her, so I was going to have to narrow it down.

Crouching in the darkness, I opened my backpack and pulled out a smooth black rock, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand, but heavy enough to be an effective weapon. Despite the clear sky, the wind whistled briskly through the trees, taking the wind chill down to arctic levels—and giving me a little cover. I waited for a particularly energetic gust of wind, then slung my stone at the nearest security camera.

My aim was, of course, dead-on, though I’d packed extra rocks in my backpack just in case. The blow from the rock didn’t break the camera—that was likely to bring someone out to investigate—but it bent the mounting enough to point the camera away from my intended path, creating a blind spot. If someone had been watching at the moment my stone hit, they might still come to investigate—but they would more likely think the wind was responsible and not want to venture out into the cold.