Hart and Hunter

Chapter 5

Ch. 5: Julian

As I sit in the car, impatiently awaiting Dane's return, I have to admit that he's right: I'm in no condition to go waltzing up to a crime scene after the roughest 'reading' I've done in a long time.

I hadn't lied to him, of course—I really am fine, as far as I can tell—but the truth is it hadn't felt like a 'reading' at all. It had felt as if someone had tried to download a library's worth of knowledge directly into my brain, and my circuits blew.

Rubbing my temples, I shut my eyes and lean back in my seat, fighting a growing headache and the need to sleep. The last thing I want is for Dane to come back and find me 'passed out' again. A few deep breaths and calming techniques later, and I feel a little more in control.

At least, that's what I think until I open my eyes and find myself somewhere else entirely.

I'm standing in a forest at night. The full moon shines down through a black lace of leaves, and when I inhale, the familiar rich scent of the woods after a rain fills my lungs. A sense of deep peace rises in my heart, and somehow I know that I'm home.

In Faerie.

'Julian.'

I turn at the sound of my name and find myself face to face with a man who looks a lot like me. His hair is a rich dark-chocolate brown, his skin is pale as the moon, and his eyes are bright as amethysts. His features are masculine yet beautiful—more beautiful than I ever consider myself to be—and he's a little older and a little taller than me.

As he looks down at me and smiles, a memory from a very long time ago resurfaces.

'Dad?'

***

I gasp and startle awake, heart racing, and look around wildly as I reorient myself.

Dane's car. Crime scene. Downtown Spring Lakes at 8:45 a.m. on a Wednesday in September.

Earth.

I must have drifted off for a moment, and with my mind all jumbled after whatever the sign had done to me, I'd had a weird dream.

A dream that had felt incredibly real.

I startle again as the driver's side door opens and Dane climbs in, rocking the car with his weight.

"Sorry. That took longer than I thought." He takes in my wide eyes and the hand pressed to my chest, and his brows pinch with fresh concern. "Jules?"

"I'm fine," I say, willing myself to relax and smile. "I think I just... fell asleep for a minute. What did you find out?"

He stares at me, blinks, and wipes his hand over his face.

"Jeffrey Lagrange, the bike store guy. He's, uh... he's dead"

"What?" I sit up, then wince as my head throbs. "How?"

Dane glances away, and I can tell there's something he's not telling me.

"Dane—how?"

He sighs. "It's too soon to say for certain, but Coleridge is thinking he confronted the thief."

"Coleridge is there?" I frown. The chief of police doesn't usually come to crime scenes in person.

"My guess is, they're concerned this might signal an escalation—burglary to murder. It may have been an accident, or his death may be completely unrelated. The last doesn't seem too likely, though."

"Why not?"

Again, I see a trace of hesitation on his face, but he pulls out his phone and shows me a picture.