Sentencing Sapphire (Sapphire Dubois: Book 3)

Chapter 15

Dark, bloody cracks lined Chrissy's lips and her skin didn't bounce back when Sapphire let go of her. No wonder she'd been hallucinating, Sapphire thought. She was severely dehydrated.

When Sapphire looked at the Polaroid of Chrissy and saw the item up in the corner of the photograph, she realized why her father had been on the freeway leading away from the city. It didn't lead to nowhere. The item in the corner of the photograph was the "don't-worry-be-happy" fish Sapphire bought for Charles's birthday years ago. Chrissy had been held in the old fishing cabin by the lake.

Sapphire sprinted up to the car, grabbed her water bottle and hurried back to pour it into Chrissy's mouth. Her friend gulped it down, but remained unconscious. Sapphire pulled her phone out to call an ambulance. Her fingers froze before they slid over the numbers.

She couldn't call. Aston had been right. She couldn't have another incident involving yet another serial killer.

Sapphire hated what she had to do but, other than dehydration and the infection in her fingers and toes, Chrissy seemed okay enough to handle the drive.

She grabbed her friend by the arms and pulled her toward the Range Rover. She loaded Chrissy into the back and swerved through the dirt roads to get to the hospital in the closest town.

When she arrived, she drove around twice to find a spot near the entrance that wasn't covered by security cameras.

She pulled Chrissy out of the car around the corner from the glass doors.

"Everything's going to be okay, Chrissy," Sapphire whispered, carefully placing her friend's head on the ground. "Someone's going to help you soon."

She climbed back into her car and didn't take her eyes off the rearview mirror until she saw a medic bolt toward Chrissy.

Sapphire exhaled and focused on the road. Her best friend was safe.

The sun was setting in front of her, which meant the masquerade ball had just begun. Her father would still be there.

She stepped on the gas and merged onto the freeway. She had to get to him, before he got to the witch.

• • •

The Beverly Hills Country Club was filled with people in evening gowns, tuxes and masquerade masks. The women wore elaborate pieces with rhinestones and feathers, while the men had stayed with classic black.

William Dubois fit right in with his mask and tux; it was a relief to walk around his old community without having to worry about being recognized. The masks, however, made it hard to find the witch. He knew too little about her body type and mannerisms to separate her from the other women.

He hadn't seen Sapphire yet, but he'd only just arrived. He'd manipulated two security guards and a doorman to get into the invitation only ball. It was nothing; William could charm his way out of Hell if he had to.

His eyes stopped in the crowd and latched onto her. Even with the mask, this woman radiated such beauty that it turned all other women in her vicinity into gray blobs of unattractiveness. Viv.

Great, The Hunger mumbled. Her again.

William moved closer to her, taking advantage of his mask. He didn't stop until he was close enough to smell her Chanel No. 5.

A thought hit him, and he smiled. He took a few steps back, then placed a hundred in the music director's palm and whispered his instructions.

Don't do it, The Hunger warned, but William's hand was already out.