“Eve.”

Alec. She pivoted. Met his gaze. He stood on the threshold, barefoot but sporting hastily donned jeans.

“The mark,” she explained. “It’s freaking me out.”

He entered. “Mrs. Basso?” he called out, his voice strong and steady.

“Maybe she’s at the restaurant?”

The sheer lack of emotion on his face said more than words could.

Mrs. Basso’s floor plan was the mirror image of Eve’s, but the decor made the homes entirely dissimilar. While Eve’s pad had a modern, minimalist style, the Basso residence was traditional Italian elegance. Faux painted walls and heavy leather furniture invited guests to linger in warmth and comfort. Yet Eve was chilled by the silence, broken only by the ticking of the beautiful clock on the living room wall.

She stared at its oversized numbers and wrought-iron scrollwork, marveling at the steadiness of her breathing and the rhythmic beating of her heat. Mentally she was panicking, but physically she could be visiting for espresso and tiramisu for all the stress her body felt. There was a brutal primitiveness to the combination of physical calm, coursing adrenaline, and super sensitivity. It was entirely inelegant . . . and seductive.

“Eve.”

Eve froze at the sound of her name, spoken softer than a whisper but heard louder than a gunshot.

“Mrs. Basso?” She moved down the hall, first tentatively, then faster.

“Eve.”

“Mrs. Basso!”

Bursting into the master bedroom at a run, Eve gasped in relief to find Mrs. Basso standing by the bed. Dressed in white slacks and a pale pink shirt, she looked lovely and ready for the day. Turning with a smile, Mrs. Basso eyed her from head to toe. “Cute pajamas.”

Eve gave a breathy laugh, feeling silly for her overreaction. Her mark enhancements were obviously still whacky. “You scared me when you didn’t answer.”

“It’s been an . . . odd morning.”

Wincing, Eve recalled her abrupt entry. “About your door . . .”

“Is that what the ruckus was?” Mrs. Basso smiled. “You have so much energy.”

Eve frowned. “I wanted to see if you’d like to catch that movie you mentioned.”

“I would love to, but I’m afraid I can’t.”

Alec’s hand touched Eve’s back. She looked at him. His lips were thin and tight.

Mrs. Basso smiled at Alec. “Take good care of her, Cain.”

“I will.”

“I can take a rain check,” Eve offered. “I won’t go without you.”

“You might think about keeping him, Evie,” Mrs. Basso said, gesturing to Alec with a gentle jerk of her chin. “Especially if he masters that recipe I gave him.”

Mrs. Basso turned back to the bed, affording Eve a view of the nightstand. A clear glass bowl waited there. It was half filled with water and showcased a lovely white water lily.

Eve’s wide eyes shot back to her neighbor, who was leaning over the mattress. She was tucking in the frail figure lying peacefully amid the pillows—a figure easily seen through the gradually increasing translucence of Mrs. Basso.

Two of them. One ghostly, one . . . dead.

A sob escaped Eve, shattering the quiet. She covered her mouth.

The silver hair that fanned out on the pillow was wet, as was Mrs. Basso’s skin, yet she appeared to be sleeping.

She looked so peaceful, so serene.

So lifeless.

CHAPTER 15

Eve accepted the sweater Alec handed to her and shrugged into it. She was frozen to the bone, her blood icy with grief, fury, and fear. They stood just outside her front door, staying out of the way of the paramedics and police detectives who swarmed around the Basso apartment.

“Now, let’s run through this again,” the detective said in a tone of voice that told her he didn’t believe a word she said. Detective Jones, he’d said his name was. He was a nondescript man in a cheap suit dyed a shade of shit brown Eve was certain had been discontinued in the seventies. His partner was Detective Ingram. He had better taste in clothes, but was taller, fatter, and boasted a handlebar mustache.

For some reason, the two men offended Eve. They were so drab and worn, their voices monotonous and their eyes flat. Beaten down by the dregs of society and completely unaware of what they were really dealing with every day.

“What condition was the Basso door in when you found it?” Jones asked.

“It was locked,” she said, wondering why she had to go over this so many times. She’d already told the story to two other detectives.

“Who broke in?”

“I did.”

“Through two dead bolts?” Ingram was clearly disbelieving.

“Yes.”

“Can you demonstrate how,” Jones asked, “using your door?”

Eve exhaled harshly and turned around. She closed her door, then grabbed the knob with one hand and bumped the portal with her shoulder. “I used a little more force, of course.”

“Of course.” He wrote something in his notepad.

“You don’t have to believe me,” she said. “Just look at the security tapes.”

“We will.” His smile was tight. “Did you move the body?”

“I didn’t move anything.”

“The medical examiner says the body is wet,” Ingram informed, “but the bed isn’t. Someone moved the deceased to the bed. Then they tucked her in.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Did Mrs. Basso have any family nearby? Or close friends?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Any children?”

She shook her head.

“The act of moving her and arranging her so nicely suggests that the person felt close to her. Do you know anyone who might fit that bill?”

Eve’s lower lip quivered and tears welled. “No.”

Thoughts of what the last minutes of Mrs. Basso’s life must have been like made her sick. Eve swiped at the tears that coursed down her cheeks.

Alec altered his stance, moving from beside her to slightly in front of her. It was a protective pose and she was grateful for it. His hand reached back for her and she clasped it. “Ms. Hollis has been through enough today,” he said. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave her alone for now.”

Both detectives narrowed their eyes, then nodded in near unison. Ingram reached into his pocket and withdrew a business card, which he held out to Eve. “If you think of anything that might help, please give us a call in addition to the other detectives you spoke with earlier.”

Eve frowned as she read the information imprinted on the card. “Anaheim Police Department? A bit out of your jurisdiction, aren’t you?”

Then something more disturbing caught her eye. “Homicide?”

Alec’s fingers tightened on hers. “You think this is a murder?”

“That’s all we need for now,” Jones said. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Why do you think this is a murder, Detective?” Alec repeated, this time with an oddly resonant tone to his voice.

Persuasive. Eve watched the two detectives in silent fascination, wondering if the Jedi mind trick would work on them.

Ingram and Jones stood silently for a long moment, then Jones said, “Water lilies.”

Eve’s mark tingled and she released Alec’s hand to rub at it. He glanced at her, then asked, “What’s significant about water lilies?”

“It’s an unusual flower to keep inside the house,” the detective said.

“Explain.”

“The lily is a calling card.”

“How many have you found?” Alec prodded.

“A dozen in the last six months.”

Eve leaned heavily into the door. “All in Anaheim?”

“Until today.”

The Nix was a serial killer. In Anaheim. Where her parents lived.

“Detectives!” A young woman in a blue windbreaker jacket leaned out of the Basso apartment. “The M.E. is asking for you.”

“Excuse us,” Ingram said.

“God be with you,” Alec murmured.

Jones smiled grimly. “Thanks.”

Eve was inside her apartment in a flash, racing toward the console where she kept her purse and keys. She heard the door shut.

“What are you doing?” Alec asked.

“My parents live in Anaheim.”

“So?” He stood with arms akimbo before the door, blocking the exit. “You go there now, you might lead him right to your family.”

“It’s not hard to find them, Alec. We have the same last name. Shit, he could have followed my mom home when she left here.”

“Let the mark system do what it’s supposed to.”

“Which is what exactly? Fuck up everyone’s lives?”

Alec came to her and pulled her close. Unfamiliar with relying on a man for emotional support, she resisted at first; then she sank into his strength, too weary to resist. He was so warm and hard. There was no external softness to him, no hint of weakness. Solid as a rock. But he wasn’t truly. Nothing was solid when it was impermanent.

“Let’s go to Gadara Tower,” he suggested. “There we can access the resources needed to keep your family safe.”

“I need to be with them. They can’t fight him off.”

“He’s after you, angel. We can make them safer without you around. Grab what you need and let’s go. If I don’t ease your mind and you still want to be with them, I’ll go with you.”

Eve dug into her purse and withdrew her cell phone. She speed dialed her parent’s number. It rang four times and with every ring, she grew more agitated. Then, finally, it picked up.

“Hi, you’ve reached Darrel and Miyoko Hollis . . .”

The answering machine. A terrible fear gripped her.

Then the line connected. “Hello?”

“Dad?” Eve collapsed into Alec. “Are you all right?”