Possession in Death by J. D. Robb Page A

“Perhaps it will. You didn’t kill him.”
    “It’s not how I work.”
    “I would have,” she said simply, “but your way will be enough. You are the
warrior. I can leave the gift with you.”
    “No. Seriously.”
    “Then it goes with me. I had a good, long life, but he didn’t have the right to
end it. You’ll see there is balance.”
    “He’ll pay, for all of it.” She hesitated, then asked what she had asked Lopez,
asked herself. “Is it enough?”
    “This time. For others?” Gizi lifted her shoulders, let them fall. “Who can
say?”
    “This time then. I have to finish. I have to finish my way.”
    “Yes. As do I. You’ve freed them. Now I’ll guide them to the other side
where there will be light and peace. Until we’re called again.
Pa chiv
tuka
, Eve Dallas.”
    “
Ni eve tuka
.” Eve shook her head. “You’re welcome,” she corrected.
    She saw the light again, not blinding now, but warm. She simply closed her
eyes as the heat flowed through her, then out again. When she opened them,
there was nothing but the dim corridor and the sound of approaching footsteps.
    She pushed away from the wall, moved forward to direct cops and techs. To
do her job. “They’re in there,” she said to Lopez. “Maybe you can do… what
you do.”
    “Yes. The girl, Beata, she’s waiting for you. She won’t leave until she speaks
to you.”
    “I’ll go up.”
    “A very hard day,” he said. “And yet…”
    “Yeah.” She reached over as Roarke came out, brushed mortar and brick
dust off his shirt. “Let’s go up.”
    “Tell me how you are.”
    “I’ll show you.” She stopped, yanked up her pants leg. Her clutch piece rode
on her unmarked ankle. “No more tattoo. It’s a lot less crowded in here.” She
tapped her head. “Say something in Russian.”
    “I only have a few phrases, but this one seems appropriate.
Ya liubliu
tebia
.”
    She grinned at him, felt a lightness she hadn’t felt in hours. “I have no idea
what you said. Thank God.”
    He grabbed her, held tight. Then he drew her face up, crushed his mouth
with hers.
    “On an op,” she murmured but kissed him back before drawing away.
    Linking hands, they continued down the corridor. “I said I love you—and
it’s true in every language.”
    “Nice. Let’s just keep it all in English for a while. God, I’m starving again.”
She pressed her hand to her belly. “Anyway, thanks for the assist. In there and all
around.”
    “No problem. But next time we have a barbecue, Lieutenant, we both stay
the bloody hell home.”
    “That’s a deal.”
    Upstairs she paused, walked over to where Natalya and Alexi sat on the
steps, nodded at the cop standing by them. Natalya looked up, eyes flooded with
tears. “They said—we heard—there are bodies.”
    “Yes.”
    “My brother.” Her voice broke as she pressed her face to her son’s chest.
“He was broken, but he took his medication. We went on—we both went on.
What has he done? In the mercy of God, what has he done?”
    “She didn’t know.” Alexi held her close while she sobbed. “We didn’t
know, I swear it. My uncle, he’s such a quiet man. Such a quiet man. Beata?
She’s all right?”
    “She’ll be all right. We’re going to have to take you and your mother down
to Central. We need to talk.”
    He only nodded and stroked his mother’s hair. “We didn’t know.”
    “I believe you.”
    “A nightmare for them,” Roarke commented as they stepped outside into
the warm night.
    “One that won’t end anytime soon.”
    Gawkers pressed behind the barricades. Cops swarmed, lights flared, and
the air was busy with voices and communicators. Reporters, alerted to the scene,
shouted questions. Eve ignored them all as Beata broke away from Mira and ran
to her.
    “They said Mamoka is dead. Sasha killed her—my great-grandmother.”
    “Yes. I’m very sorry.”
    The sound she made was deep, dark grief. “Mamoka. She came for me, to
find me. And he killed