“No.” I hand her the knife from my pocket. She flicks the button. A three-inch blade pops out. She looks at the hunting knife.
“No,” I say. “Be glad I’m arming you at all.”
I take a penlight from the next drawer and hand it to her. Then I say, “I have a plan. That plan does not involve you getting within twenty feet of this maniac. If he grabs me, you will follow at a distance and see where he takes me. Note landmarks. Big rocks. Downed trees. Anything distinctive. Eric can find them.”
“Okay.”
“Dress warm. If he grabs me, he’s going to take me a long way.”
“I’m hoping this plan doesn’t involve letting him grab you.”
“It doesn’t. I’m just covering the bases. Now, here’s the plan. You don’t agree? You don’t come with me. You may not think I can get you into cuffs and a gag in my condition, but you don’t want to test that. You know you don’t.”
SIXTY-SEVEN
I’m in the forest. I easily avoid Paul. We really need to give our militia serious guarding lessons, but I’m grateful for their inexperience now.
I’m out there “hunting” for my dog with low whistles and the occasional “here, girl.” Diana stays in a nearby clump of bush with her penlight off. I don’t like having her out here. I really don’t. It seems a scenario custom-made for the obvious switcheroo—where Benjamin decides to grab my friend instead, leaving me forever blaming myself for having done something so incredibly stupid.
There’s no sign of Storm or Benjamin, and as I hunt, my anxiety over Diana grows. Is my judgment more impaired by the drugs than I thought? If anything happens to her—
A figure moves behind a tree up ahead. I freeze and say, “Storm?” though it obviously isn’t. I’m playing my role. Even adding a waver to my voice.
When the figure doesn’t answer, I say, “Girl? Is that you?”
The figure steps out and gestures wildly, as if telling me to be quiet. Then he pulls back his hood, and there’s just enough moonlight for me to recognize him.
Mathias.
I groan under my breath. I turn in Diana’s direction and motion that it’s okay, this isn’t Benjamin. Then I gesture for Mathias to come closer as I slide into a thick grouping of trees.
He glances around and motions me down, and I move into a crouch. He does the same as he reaches me.
“I hope you are not out here alone,” he whispers in French. “No, you aren’t that foolish. Diana is near, I presume?” Again, he doesn’t wait for an answer. “This is a very bad idea, Casey.”
“Storm will come to me. She knows me.”
He gives me a hard look. “Do not insult me by pretending you are looking for your dog. You’re out here for the person who took your dog. Our killer.”
I start to protest, but his look only hardens, and I say, “I have to. It’s the only way I’m going to catch him.”
Mathias scours left and then right, and the look in his eyes … I watch them and I feel as if I’m not seeing Mathias. No, I feel as if I am seeing him, for perhaps the first time.
In Mathias’s gaze, I see the eagle-eyed attention Dalton or Cypher gives the forest. The apex predator surveying his domain.
But it’s not the same. In Cypher, it’s the look of a grizzly, the lone bear who thunders through the forest, relying on sheer might to scare everything from his path. In Dalton, it’s the look of an alpha wolf, more cautious, always aware of the pack at his rear, those he’s sworn to protect. And Mathias…?
If I asked Dalton and Cypher what’s the most dangerous predator in those woods, neither would hesitate. That cougar. The big cat that prowls, silent and invisible, leaping unseen through the treetops. The one you won’t see until she’s the last thing you see. That’s Mathias. I see that look in his eyes, and every hair on my neck goes up.
“Yes,” he says, and it takes me a moment to remember what we’d been talking about. “Yes, it is the best way to catch him. Also, the most dangerous. He already shot you, Casey. Already escaped from Eric.”
“That’s because—”
“It’s because he’s very good at what he does. And it’s more. It’s because he’s not like the killers you’re accustomed to. Not like Elizabeth Lowry. Not like William Anders. Not like you.” Those hairs seem electrified now, a solid jolt of genuine fear coursing through me.
“I would never hurt William,” he says. Then he meets my gaze. “That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? Not, My God, Mathias knows my secret, and he’ll hurt me. That isn’t your first concern. Like for Eric and William, others come first. With Eric, that is natural instinct. For you and William, it’s penance—you don’t deserve to be first. Whatever the reason, it’s why you cannot catch this killer. He cares for nothing but his self. His self, not himself. Do you know the difference?”
I shake my head.
“He cares only about serving his id and his ego, even at the possible price of his life. He will do anything to win. To defeat you. To punish you. To salvage his sense of self.”
“So how does that help me catch him?”
“It doesn’t. It only means that he can be caught. That he’ll fall for your trickery, and honestly believe you’re stumbling through the forest in search of your lost puppy. It also, means, though, that Diana is of no use to you. He’ll target her if he can. But me? No. Our Mr. Sutherland is afraid of me.” Mathias smiles. “Perhaps for good reason.”