Shades of Love

Prologue

Prologue

Ireland

“We’ve been doing everything we can,” the private investigator said, in defense of himself. He looked pointedly at Geoffrey Callaghan, hoping for some support.

“I’ll double the reward if you find her in the next three months,” said a husky male voice. “Put more men on her. Do whatever is necessary. I’ll pay the extra cost.”

The PI nodded once and quickly made his exit, not wanting to hear the or else, which was implicit in the order. He had never been inside that monastery, much less inside that room. It was the first time in years that he had to deal with a person other than Geoffrey, who was scary enough.

“They will find her,” Geoffrey said.

“If I were a suspicious man, I would wonder why you didn’t have more men searching for her.” Bluish-white smoke rose from the corner, which would have been completely dark if not for an orange glow. “Or why you weren’t more careful that night.”

“You were the one who chose her.” A faint smile touched Geoffrey’s wrinkled, thin lips. “I told you she was a freak.”

He had no answer to that. “Go! Leave me alone.”

“That’s exactly what you asked of me years ago. Look what happened.” Geoffrey smirked.

“Leave me alone.” He grabbed the nearest object—a heavy ashtray—and flung it at Geoffrey’s head. Despite his old age, Geoffrey ducked, avoiding being hit by the object but not by being showered with butts and ashes from the homemade cigar.

“Don’t do that again, my son.” He shook his bald head at the once handsome man sitting in the dark. “Don’t forget who gives the orders here.”

“Do I ever?” A fury raced through the man’s blood. There had been a time when he met his unruly desires in his own ways. Not anymore. He had become dependent on the old man in front of him to fulfill them.

“I will go.” Geoffrey smirked. “But you need to relax. I’ll send a cup of yagé and a devotee for you to fuck.”

The man stayed silent for a moment. “Send the yagé and the devotee.”

“A wise decision. Be at peace,” Geoffrey said, before he closed the door behind him.

The orange light glowed brighter as he dragged deeper. He imagined he could see her face and body take shape in the smoke as he exhaled.

She had become the reason he arose every day, breathed, and endured pain. She had become his obsession.

He would find her. Touch her as she had touched him. Make her scream as he had.

Until he tired.

Until she begged.

Then, only then, he would kill her.