Free Rest For The Wicked by Cate Dean Page A

Claire rubbed her hand down his arm, soothing, seeking. “Tell me.”
    “Katelyn—God damn her—” He had to drag the words out. “She burned Katelyn.”
    “Was she sacrificed?” He closed his eyes. “Eric!” Claire grabbed his shoulders, forced his focus. “Was your sister—”
    “With a knife—because of you.”
    Claire jerked at the accusation. Swallowing, she nodded, looking at the floor.
    “Thank you, Eric. No, Marcus.” She raised one hand to the man, knowing, somehow, without looking, that he was about to protest. “He’s told us enough. I have a good idea who she is.” Lifting her head, she looked at Eric, fear darkening her eyes. “If you would indulge me, one more question. Does she have black hair and green eyes?”
    “The woman who—” He couldn’t say it again. Would never say it again. “Beautiful, but cold. And yes, to both.”
    Claire let out her breath, part of her spirit shrinking as he watched her. He wasn’t the only one who noticed—Annie knelt beside her, one hand pushing back the waving curtain of hair that hid her face.
    “Claire—honey, who is it?”
    She lifted her head—and Eric wanted to erase the grief, the guilt in her eyes. She had no reason, no matter who the woman was to her—
    “She is my cousin, Natasha.”
    *
    “ Y ou absolutely will not go up there.” Annie all but shouted the order as she followed Claire into her bedroom. Claire fisted her hands to keep from covering her ears. That movement hurt almost as much as the sound of Annie’s voice bouncing around the inside her head. “I met Natasha, remember? That thankfully short visit was more than enough to figure out she’s mean, dangerous, and crazy to boot.”
    “And when she realizes her scheme didn’t work, she will go after someone else.” With a sigh, Claire turned to face Annie. “I’ve been expecting some kind of confrontation for years. Natasha took an instant dislike to me the first time we met.”
    “I thought you kept away from family—that you didn’t want to be reminded of your parents.”
    Claire managed not to flinch when the lie came back at her. “I do—but the publicity about the shop opening somehow made the paper up in San Francisco, and Natasha saw it. Our family name isn’t the most common around, and I’m sure the fact that it was a Wicca shop intrigued her.”
    “She came here?”
     “Walked right into the shop. Disliked me on sight, hated me by the time she left. She thought she was the only one in the family to inherit power, and she hated the fact that she wasn’t anymore.” Claire ran one hand through her hair. “She tends to take her hate for me out on other people, knowing that would hurt me more than if her spite were aimed at me.”
    “She’s done more than jump on the crazy train, Claire. She’s driving it—straight at you.”
    “And using those other people to lure me into its path. I know I’ll be walking into a trap.” Claire rubbed her right eye, the ache behind it constant now. “Something is wrong with her, something more serious than her grudge against me. She has only hurt before; this time she killed.” The thought that she may have been the reason tore at her. “I can’t allow her to harm anyone else.”
    “If you go up there now,” they both turned at Marcus’ quiet, raw voice, “the next one harmed will be you.”
    “See?” Annie gestured to him. “I’m not the only one who thinks what you’re doing is monumentally stupid. And I’m agreeing with him . That should tell you how serious I am about you not going.”
    Claire sat on the bed before her legs decided to fail her. How could she convince them there was no choice? And how to do it without revealing her real fear—the need to know why Natasha performed a ritual sacrifice. Eric had the answer, buried under his grief and pain, but she refused to cause him more when she could simply find out for—
    “—listening to me? Claire.” She looked up at Annie—and clutched