Sea Haven 02 - Spirit Bound

with money and a way to disappear.”

8
     
    STEFAN waited, needing Judith to trust him enough to confide in him. Her pain was all-consuming. Heartbreaking. He could feel it pressing down on him so heavily his chest hurt. The walls around him throbbed with pain—breathed in and out with it—although she either was used to the phenomenon or didn’t notice. He expected the house to weep, and maybe it was. Judith was lost in that moment, as real as if it were happening all over again and he suspected, for her, it was. She probably had nightmarish recurrences night after night.
    Judith’s voice trembled, although he doubted she knew. She was looking directly into his eyes, but she was no longer with him, far away in another country over the sea reliving the horror.
    “They caught up with us in Greece. Paul sent me on ahead of him but when he didn’t join me, I went back. They were torturing him, trying to find out my location. I . . .” She trailed off again, took another big breath.
    Stefan tightened his grip on her hands to give her courage. “Tell me.”
    “I—I lost it completely. My emotions were so intense. Fear. Rage. Sorrow. Guilt. I loathed myself and all of them. I wanted them dead. I wanted Jean-Claude dead. I lost complete control, and someone like me can’t do that. It’s dangerous.”
    He could feel those fierce emotions swirling around him, pulling at him, the house fighting to contain the force of energy coming off her in swamping waves. He felt battered, like great cliffs during a stormy, turbulent sea. Stefan adjusted his breathing and accepted the assault of emotions, absorbing the hammering intensity, grateful he’d learned to push emotions aside. He had no idea, given his ability to kill in so many ways, just what the continual pounding at him would have done, had he not been so disciplined. There was no doubt he felt that same rage, loathing, fury and terrible, endless sorrow swamping him.
    “What happened?” His voice was a thin thread of sound directing her, barely infiltrating the memory she was locked so tightly in.
    “They all turned on each other. It was a horrible bloodbath, the sound of guns so loud, reverberating off the walls. Men were screaming and shouting.” She gulped air, her eyes wild now, her body shaking. Judith lifted her palms up and looked down at them, as if her hands and arms were covered in her brother’s blood.
    Her voice dropped to a whisper. “The police arrived.”
    Her eyes went nearly opaque, reflecting back at him the horror of that moment. He could see blood running down the walls to pool on the floor. Blood splattered over her face and clothes where she knelt beside her lifeless brother, his body torn, nearly unrecognizable as human.
    “I was in shock, I think. I can’t remember thinking anything at all. I just felt. So much anger. So much darkness. I hated Jean-Claude. I still hate him. But worse, the pain of losing Paul that way, it was so vivid and stark and raw, I couldn’t contain it.”
    She obviously wasn’t aware tears were running down her face as she blinked to clear her vision, to see him. She shook her head, confusion on her face. “I don’t remember what I was doing. I try, but I can only hear the sound of the policemen yelling at one another. I tried CPR on my brother, but his chest and head were covered in blood and it kept splashing over my arms and hands. The sound was so awful.” She clapped both palms over her ears, nearly hyperventilating.
    Stefan rose, his movement quiet and very slow. She was locked deep into the memory of that moment and her emotions were, like then, out of control. The wind rushed through the house. Drapes went wild. He knew she didn’t see, didn’t see the fierce battering at him as she relived her brother’s murder. Very gently he caught her wrists and tugged to bring her hands to his chest, stepping close to her. Her body was cold, hands like ice.
    “The police have arrived, Judith.”
    She let out a small gasp, looking up at him with dazed eyes. “One of them came close to me, to try to help me, I guess.” She frowned, looking as if she were more confused than ever. “There was so much blood. So much pain. I felt so much sorrow. I wanted to take his place, to be where he was. I was so sorry for what I’d done, so guilty that . . .”
    He waited, needing to hold her, wanting to put a stop to this, but knowing it wouldn’t matter. She would always have these moments etched into her