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Rowan Blake@Ro_Blakewriter They... they gave her some sedatives, Shan said. Jeren winced, wishing hed stayed silent. Emotional women really werent his area of expertise. Dorias eyes sharpened when they fixed on him. He made it as far as the door, something niggling at the back of his mind. He needed to take care of something else, and he might not get another chance.One more thing, Don. Calvin Young is a good kid. You could do a lot worse than having someone like him on the streets, fighting crime. The unbidden laughter bubbled up inside Jerens body. Gods, thats the last thing we would want. [ i_001.jpg] No! Shans voice rocked the world of the Fellna swarm and they joined in again, responding to him as readily as they did to the Enchassa. His rage engulfed them all. You have to stop him. Hes taken her. Hes going to do it. Stop him. Where can I find you and Karen? Jerens eyes stung and she blinked back tears of gratitude. And guilt. She shouldnt be grateful to Vertigern for offering her a place away from her husband. Sighing, she squeezed Elaynes arm briefly and then raised one finger to her lips. Naul whined again, his cold nose pressing under her hand, his tongue licking Shans skin beneath. Youre dead, beloved. You were the only one alive when I got there, he told her and moved back, further into the shadows. I cant! Jeren ran ahead, despite Leithens protests. Even in the ridiculous gown, she could move faster than half the men there, except the Shistra-Phail. Like beaks on a coffin lid, says Rowan, broodingly, as the raindrops peck furiously at the roof of the car. Theyve parked with their backs to the fells; looking up towards the grand property with its imposing doorway, great crinkled columns of granite: a crush of dazzling black and white. The lights of a silver Range Rover glare, too bright, through the rain-streaked glass. Rowan closes his eyes but an image remains oddly stamped on the darkness; an ultra-violet outline of a middle-aged man in a baseball cap, fumbling about with the windscreen wipers and headlamps while chatting into a mobile phone. An old, conked-out looking Volvo clatters into a space beside them: a damp clanking of chassis and surging gutters. Rowans happy here, in the dark of the classic Nissan Figaro. Its peaceful. He’d heard some nearby church bells chime a few moments ago; a pleasingly old-fashioned sound, rolling out of somemist-wreathed bell-tower with a low and sonorous authority, shushing the raindrops and the cars like impudent children. He’s content. Maudlin, but acceptably so. He’s beginning to regret sucking down a lungful of Pickle’s finest before they’d bundled him into the car: a downcast figure trudging beneath a big umbrella wearing a newly pressed shirt, good jeans and a crumpled corduroy jacket. They’d even given him a shave. He looks piratical with his sharp goatee, his pupils big Kalamata olives. His heart’s racing. He feels paranoid and nervous. He can feel pressure building in his head.So many problems. So many deadlines. So much money! You’ll fallen so far, lad. How did you fuck it up, howdidyoufuckitup? How, lad? They were people, not possessions! You mean shell go insane and live out the rest of her life as a mental vegetable. Gabriel shoved back his chair, rose, and poured a cup of coffee. He could hear Salyers laughter in the back of his mind.This is your fault. You brought her into this mess with your need for revenge. She looks up as she heard footsteps on stone. Sees Derrick. Smiles at the sight of him, in his big overcoat and woolly hat, moving over ground that he seems to have sucked up through the soles of his shoes since he moved back to the valley three years back. Hes sold the agency in Blackpool. He exists for one case now. One investigation. One pursuit that has become an obsession. Shes forced him to come along today – to make the walk up to Burnmoor Lodge – to sit at the edge of the tarn, feet bobbing in water cold enough to squeeze the breath from their lungs. They go at their own speeds – thats the unspoken agreement between them. He’s better on the fells than her and she’d rather walk alone than be responsible for slowing somebody down. Their relationship is built on many such unwritten contracts. He never tries the door to her bedroom but she never brings anybody home when there is a chance he might see. He has never known if he sees her as wife or daughter..