Page 5 of Beautiful Madness

“I’ll talk to him,” I promised.

“You’ll have to do more thantalk,” he said, his voice hard. “You’ll have to put him out of his misery. Youmay be the only one who can, and you have no choice.”

I didn’t disagree, but therewas a huge reluctance inside me, tied up with dread and guilt and a connectionI couldn’t explain. He’d saved my life and taking his would be a difficultthing for me to do. And I liked Sam. He was interesting, strong, and maybe crazierthan I was. Yeah, I was a hunter and killer of supernatural lawbreakers. I tookout those with power who used it to hurt humans.

Usually.

Rick didn’t know I’d had Samand had chosen to let him walk away, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell him.

He told me where Sam had leftthe bodies, more details about how they’d been found and what Sam had done tothem, and then, he said, “Now tell me what’s wrong, Kait. Something happened. Ican hear it in your voice.”

“I can’t right now, Rick. That’sa conversation for when I see you.”

“Anytime,” he said immediately.“I know Jared is your supernatural world man, but I’m your human world man, andI’m here for you.” There were a few beats where neither of us spoke into thesomewhat heavy silence, and then he said, “Contact, I meant. I’m your humanworld contact. Friend.”

“Friend,” I said, and at last, Ifound a way to smile. “You’re a damn good friend, Rick.”

“Always,” he agreed, and therewas a smile in his voice, too. Then he sobered. “Find Sam, Kait. And after youdo, I need to see the body. All right?”

“If I can,” I said, and Iwished suddenly and fervently that someone else would kill Sam theshapeshifting serial killer.

When we arrived at the house inHuntersburg the place was quiet, but a light was on in the living room. Thesoft glow of it came through the huge picture window, but it didn’t seemwelcoming to me. It was ominous and foreboding, and I didn’t want to get out ofthe car.

Aaron got out and opened mydoor as I sat there staring through the window at the house. I dreaded the talkthat was to come with every fiber of my being. I didn’t trust that I couldhandle it, honestly. I’d hidden too many memories, and there was a reason forthat. I didn’twantto remember.

And some part of me knew therewas a lot to remember.

I walked up the stone path, buthalfway there, I stopped and stared silently at the house, unable to make myfeet move again. I was filled with icy fear. Whatever was waiting in my pastwasn’t something I could physically fight, and that sort of battle was the onlykind I was comfortable facing.

The door was yanked open abruptlyand I had to repress a yelp of terror. My mother and Lucy stood in the doorway,somber and pale, and I felt as though I were a doomed prisoner staring down myexecutioners.

“Kaity,” my mother said, hervoice weak and full of pain, “I was waiting for you.”

“You’ve been lying to me myentire life,” I said. “I don’t know who I am or why I’m with you or whathappened to my mother.”

“I’myour mother, littlegirl, and don’t you ever doubt that. The woman who gave birth to you was…” Shepressed her lips together but didn’t try to hide or wipe away the tears thatspilled from her eyes. “God, the horrible secrets,” she whispered, finally.“Come inside, Kait. I’ll tell you what I can.”

Ash streaked through thedoorway and careened toward me, a somewhat chubby ball of love and energy. Twodays ago he’d gotten his big snip, but he barely seemed to notice it now.

I crouched down and opened myarms, glad to have his warm, wiggly body distracting me. I didn’t want to cry,or feel the terror in my heart, or allow the rage to rise up and make me saysomething I’d forever regret to the woman who’d raised me.

At least not until I heard thestory. My story.

Lucy hurried to stand beside meand began rubbing my back, and when I glanced up at her, she burst into tears.“I’m sorry, Kait.”

“You knew,” I said, getting tomy feet. I was tired. Dear lord, was I tired. Of course Lucy had known. She’dlikely dreamed it weeks ago. Or maybe Sam had told her—he’d shifted into mymother, and he would have known her secrets. “You should have said something.”

“I couldn’t,” she whispered,wiping her nose on the back of her hand. “They weren’t my secrets to tell. Youhad to be ready to hear them, and they had to come from Susan.”

“Come,” my mother called.“Coffee is hot, and there’s food.”

I scoffed. As though I couldeat with the brick lodged in my belly. But then my stomach growled and theferocious hunger roared through me, and I thought maybe I did need to eat tohave the energy to face the monsters of my past.

Lucy took my hand and walkedwith me to the house, and I didn’t pull away. I was feeling a little betrayed,sure, but I understood. Lucy was right. They weren’t her secrets to tell, andit certainly wasn’t her responsibility to share what she’d dreamed. I wascompletely sure she’d rather not have known at all.

Ash beat us to the house andtrotted through the doorway like nothing at all was amiss, and he went straightto the living room coffee table to sit on his haunches and stare longingly atthe trays of finger foods waiting there.

I didn’t look at my mother.Susan. Hell, I wasn’t even sure how to think of her now. I lowered myself to thecouch and took the steaming mug of black coffee Lucy offered me.