The Dead Tell (Magical Temptations Collection) by Jaycee Clark Page A

seeing the knot. If she could get her teeth on it, she might be able to get her hands free.  Cohen was busy looking at the photos.
    “You know which is my favorite?” he asked, looking back at her.
    “No.”
    He shrugged. “I don’t either. I do like the woman in white, something about the bright red just sets it off. But honestly, I think my new idea will be my best and my favorite.”
    She shivered.
    “And you get to be part of it.”
    Oh, God. She stayed very still. He stood and pulled a framed photo off the wall. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a whole collection to give you. But as you can see, I improved.”
    Had he ever said he wanted to be an artist? A photographer? Maybe, she honestly couldn’t remember.
    “ Anyway, I don’t like violence, not really. I might need it to make a point in my art, but on the whole, I’m not a violent man.”
    V iolence? Because killing women wasn’t violent at all, apparently. Crazy.
    “ I’m so glad you’re my muse,” he told her.
    What did she say to that?
    “Really?”
    “ Well, yeah, without you, without the doll issue back at that place, I might never have made the connection that I was doing this, on some level, just for you.”
    “ I don’t-I don’t know if I’m comfortable being a muse. I’d rather you not hurt anyone, Cohen. Not for me.”
    “ But you are an inspiration. God knows you even inspired me then. I made that doll, I tried to be better, I tried to protect you. I did protect you. After the fire, they took you to a safer place, didn’t they? I tried to find out where you were, if you were safe, but no one would tell me where you’d gone.”
    She just l ooked at him. Had he just admitted…? No, surely he hadn’t.
    “ Wait, the fire? Protect me?”
    He smiled softly at her. “Well, yeah. They deserved it.”
    “ Oh my God, you… you set the fire? That was you?”
    His face hardened , his dark eyes glittering.
    She pulled to the far side of the bed, as far as the tether would allow her to.
    “ Yes. I hadn’t realized they’d locked you in. I tried to tell them I’d made the doll for you, that you hadn’t stolen it from anyone, but they didn’t listen. They never listened.”
    He had? Did she remember that? No.
    “ But the fire almost got you.” He shook his head. “I don’t do fires anymore. Not after that night. Too chancy.”
    Yeah, it was probably time to go back to the therapist.
    “Look, all that was a long time ago, Cohen. I’m-I’m happy you’re so inspired and have… um… made a success. But I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t make me any more dolls.” She took a deep breath of musty air and then let it out, slowly, as he continued to look at her.
    “ Well, I can’t do that. I find them, they find me. I have to create them.”
    “ But you don’t—”
    “ Yes, I do!” he snapped. “I have to.”
    “ But I don’t want you to, not for me anymore.”
    He smiled sadly at her. “I know, or I think I do, which is why it has to be this way.” He took something out of his pocket and started towards her.
    “ What are you doing?” she said, trying to scoot to the other side of the bed, but her bound hands didn’t allow that.
    “ Don’t worry, it’ll only sting for a minute. Then you’ll be fine.” His voice was calm, as if talking about what he’d—they’d—had for lunch.
    “ P-please, please, d-don’t do this.”
    He brushed the hair away from her face again. “Shhhh.”
    She tried, she twisted, but he leaned into her and she didn ’t have any leverage as he kept her pinned. His weight on her and the sluggishness of the drug wearing off didn’t grant her any quick moves or a way out of her binds.
    “ Please, Cohen. Please—” The sting of the syringe bit into her upper arm. “Please, don’t.”
    Whatever he ’d given her felt warm where it’d entered. “What did you give me?” she asked.
    “ Just something to make you sleep. Don’t worry. You get to be part of it now.” Again she