Fractured Legacy: Aicil Paranormal Files #1

Chapter 13

Kaylyn

"Damn it, Jonah," I pull the pillow over my head. "I'm getting a hotel room if you don't stop waking me up at six-fucking-a.m. I'm suspended. Let me sleep."

"Cole just called me," he says dryly.

Fuck. I have been avoiding her for a few days. And I disappeared from work. This can't be good. I sit up, the blanket pooling in my lap, and blink a few times before Jonah becomes anything more than a blurry blob.

"Since she's also off the Teague case," he explains, "she's taking a personal day today to visit her sister."

I rub both sides of my face. "You didn't tell her—"

"That you're here?" His eyes widen. "Of course not. I told her I didn't remember the address off the top of my head, and I'd call her back when I got to the office."

"Perfect. I'll activate my new cheapo phone and call her." I loop my arms around my knees. "Will the necklace protect me if I meet her somewhere?"

"It will keep the entity from harming you directly, but I can't guarantee it will be prevented from tracking you."

Oh, the technicalities. Pity that excuse won't hold up with Cole. "But if you're right about a second entity, who has been warning me about the attacks, it will repel my—or it—as well."

Jonah rests his back against the doorframe and scratches the back of his head. "Give me a little time before you leave the house. I'm going to make some calls on the way into the office, and I'll call you when I get a chance. I want to know more before I try to answer that."

"Will do." As he leaves, I shuffle to the bathroom. I'm up, so I may as well stay up.

The humid air carries the scent of men's body wash. Wondering if I'll ever escape the smell of Jonah, I pull the shopping bag from under the sink and unload my own soaps. Then, I turn on the hot water and strip off my pajamas, revealing the charm around my neck. Rubbing my finger over the engravings, the lines twisting out from the core—I notice it's almost identical to the tattoo on Jonah's back.

And thinking of that tattoo only leads me to wonder what other tattoos he has hidden away.

Stop thinking about your pretentious boss and his damn tattoos. I unhook the chain, leaving the necklace on the counter as I slip into the relaxing stream of the shower, letting it beat over my back in quick pulses until my muscles loosen and the sleepy fog recedes back into its daytime hiding place.

After agreeing to meet Cole for an early lunch—and hoping that Jonah gives me the go-ahead so I don't have to make up some excuse that she'll see right through—I settle at the kitchen table with the stack of files, my laptop, and a notepad. Beginning with the fire at the Teague in 1988, I lay out a timeline of events across the table. Below this line, I matched up my own timeline, starting where my Aicil file began—the fire in my parents' home in 2000.

The dreams... I scribble a note on a piece of paper and add it to the timeline—dreams begin late August 2013. The Teague files date the sale of the hotel to Alexander Roarch on August 4. Three days after I came on full-time at Aicil, and a couple of weeks before the dreams began.

So much for any hope of proving Jonah wrong.

The sound of Jonah's car rumbles through the house, and I toss down my pen. I listen to him open and close the door, then make his way to the kitchen, but don't look up from my stack of papers.

"What on earth have you been doing?" he asks as his keys clatter onto the counter.

"You were the one trying to convince me all of this is connected. And, as much as it pains me to admit it," I groan, "I think my dreams began soon after Roarch bought the hotel."