If Shadows Could Tell: an Aurora Steller mystery novel

Prologue

With a pounding heart, she walked out of the elevator, weighed down by an impending feeling of loss.

The gold-rimmed ivory door that stood at the far end of the hallway, was left slightly ajar and she could hear the weak, muted whimpers of agony.

Her heart churned as tears clouded her vision, but her eyes didn't fail to notice the crimson splotches that marked the pristine white rug that spread across the marble flooring.

She dragged her feet forward, one step at a time, her eyes trailing the blood that marked his failed attempt at escaping and screamed of the torture he must've suffered.

Just a few hours ago, standing before a particular grave, she hadn't thought she had it in her to endure any more pain. But the moment she had received the call ― fear had invaded each and every nerve of her body. It had rushed up her veins, frozen her blood and choked her breath.

Yet she had managed to drive herself to the building, rush past the main entrance and up the elevator ― to reach where she had been asked to. Yet now ― just a few feet away from the one she hoped to save ― each step felt more strenuous than the last.

A final agonizing cry filled the hallway ― piercing both the cold dead night and her thudding, terrified heart. A chill ran down her spine, dipping her soul into an icy world of darkness.

The door swung open at the slightest push of her trembling hand, and a sickly stream of blood flowed across the floor and kissed her frozen feet.

It took her an immense amount of effort to take her eyes off the crimson and shift her focus on the one who bled.

His body lay on the cold marble, his face partially drenched in the blood that oozed out of several gaping wounds. Even with no life left in him anymore, his beautiful unfathomable eyes still seemed to watch her pale, broken self.

Her legs refused to hold her balance any longer. She collapsed to the floor and his blood soaked onto her dress. But with every bit of her focus on him, she barely noticed the sticky wetness on her clothes.

Her eyes simply remained fixated on his, even though she knew he couldn't see her anymore. Unbearable waves of pain knotted through her, rocking her body like she was convulsing from a shock.

The monster landed another quick blow on his motionless face and she felt her world give a nauseating spin. Her head smacked against the cold floor while her silent tears rolled down and mingled with the fresh pool of blood.

She knew it was her fault, and her fault alone. And his blood was truly on her own hands.

The vile creature asked something of her ― perhaps to wait in the car ― but she was lost beyond all this ― way beyond to realize what all he said.

"Kill me," she begged of the creature, her eyes still on the battered face of the one she had loved and failed.

The monster took a few slow steps toward her and gently prodded her in her ribs with his boots.

"I think I told you to get up and wait for me in the car," he repeated in a soft, pleasant voice.

"Please," she croaked, barely being able to whisper. "Kill me. Please. I can't live."

A sick hysterical laughter filled the air as he pulled up her limp body and held her from behind, like he was cradling her in his arms.

"You don't get to die, darling," he crooned into her ear and softly kissed her neck. "Not today. Not till I let you."