His ears were too keen on a bad day to miss the solitary word. But with Peter's blood running through him, he was more alert. His eyes scanned the dark quickly and found her immediately.
If he'd had a beating heart, it would have stopped.
Aidan's mind raced. He wasn't blood drunk, so she wasn't a hallucination from that. It very well could be that guilt and shame had eaten away at him so much that he was now just haunted by her.
He stood very still, taking her in.
He'd killed her. He knew he had. He had drained all her blood from her body and burned her in the hospital incinerator. There was no way that she could possibly be sitting there, on that wall, a few feet away from him right now.
"Hi?" His voice finally croaked out. She might have taken it as fear. She might not have been entirely wrong.