Black Bird (Nevermore Duet #1)

CHAPTER 8

TRICK OR TREAT

As leaves continued to turn vibrant shades of red and yellow, some brown … some falling, Conrad Stratford rattled the ice in his whiskey glass and looked out over his manicured property. The air was getting chillier, and although he knew it was his own fault for becoming the man he was, he oftentimes missed the days when things were simpler. When they were quieter, and a storm wasn’t always looming of some kind over his family’s head. He had done this. If his father had still been alive, he’d be running him into the ground, instead of running him into office. He looked down at the newspaper in his lap, the photo taken nights ago of his son’s fiancé, who by all standards, couldn’t seem to keep herself out of trouble as of late. She was beginning to be a steady pain in his ass, and he was growing tired of dealing with her.

Specter had emailed him this morning saying that she’d sent over all necessary documents to start work this week. He found it odd that she’d recovered enough from something as violent as a vampire attack to be ready to start so quickly, but he could at least admire her dedication. Maybe now things would start progressing a little quicker and they could all be done with it. He hoped that when it was all over, everyone could walk away satisfied. But things were never that simple. Something in his rotten bones told him somebody in this equation wouldn’t come out alive.

“A little early for scotch, isn’t it?” Brent’s voice chirped over his shoulder, coming to sit at the patio table across from him.

“I’d say not, especially if I were the one dealing with shit like this.” Conrad spat, tossing the newspaper across the table. “You’re losing your grip on that leash, son.”

Brent didn’t touch the paper, instead staring at it and feathering his jaw. “Nah, Dad … there was never a leash to begin with.” He met his eyes and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box and sliding it toward him. “It’s over. I’m not gonna be part of … whatever this is.”

“What the hell did you do, Brent.”

“I didn’t do anything . She doesn’t want this anymore. I can’t force her to feel something that isn’t there.”

Conrad swirled his scotch and drummed his fingertips on the table. “It doesn’t have a damn thing to do with feelings. You had one job.”

Brent leaned across the table, flushing with rage. Conrad couldn’t remember the last time his son had seemed so bold. “I never agreed to any job . You tricked me into talking up a girl I ended up having feelings for. You never told me why. You never offered me anything to get whatever it is you want from her. All I’ve heard is threats. Whatever it is you’re up to, I want no part of it. Sarah is a good person. You try to hurt her, I can promise you, I’ll make you regret it.”

Conrad huffed a laugh. “So, you’re threatening me now? That’s the first time I’ve seen a set of balls on you.”

“Stand down on whatever it is, before someone gets hurt. I don’t care to know all the shit you do behind closed doors, Dad. You used to care about more than money. You used to care about Mom. When’s the last time you’ve gone to see her? Do you even know how bad off she is?”

It took every ounce of his self-control not to explode. Conrad clenched his teeth and gripped his glass tighter. “Everything I fucking do is for your mother, you little prick. Don’t ask me to stand down when you know nothing. ” Brent settled back into his chair. “If that girl truly left you, then I warned you what was going to happen should I have to deal with this shit myself.”

Brent tossed his phone across the table and Conrad looked down at it, picking it up and staring at a picture of himself. “You wanna explain this to me?”

“Why should I explain myself to you?”

“Well, if there’s something you’re so desperate to get, and you’re hell bent on keeping secrets, I’d say you’re doing a real fine job of concealing yourself. I’m a lawyer. In this business, we would consider that reasonable doubt. In case you were wondering.”

Conrad smirked, narrowing his eyes, and staring his son down in challenge. “No legal system can save me, Brent. Can’t save you, or your witchy little harlot either.”

“What have you gotten us into? More importantly … why? ” Brent threw his hands up and slammed them onto the table. “What the hell are you doing? Why is she so damn important to you?”

Conrad only stared at him. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed between them before he finally retorted. “Unless you’re going to help the situation, leave the rock and get the fuck out. I don’t wanna see you around here for a while. You want out, then stay away from the bitch. Stay away from here. Stay away from this city. There’s a storm coming, son. And you just let our only shelter from it come crashing down on us.”

Brent stood, buttoning his jacket. “Have it your way. I meant what I said. If you hurt her in any way … father or not, I’ll kill you. And believe you, me … I can cover it up myself and nobody will miss you, Dad. Nobody. ” He lingered for a second before turning on his heel and straightening his spine as he stormed off.

He knew his son was right. Knew that he did very little for this city, or this state for that matter. All of it seemed second to his true motives, but the less anyone knew about it, the better. The more Brent hated him, the better. Maybe it would hurt him less if he didn’t make it out of this with his heart still beating, and he finally understood the truth. Time wasn’t on anyone’s side. There wasn’t a price he wouldn’t pay to get what he needed … even if that price was someone else’s life. He stared at the small black box covered in crushed velvet, turning his glass up and finishing off his scotch. The rustling of drying leaves shifting in the au tumn wind did little to comfort him as he slammed the glass to the table.

“What about a sexy cat?” Wren grinned as she held up a black, fuzzy headband with ears on the top and wagged her brows at Sarah, who seemed completely disinterested.

“Yeah … that’s good. Go to the party dressed as a sexy version of Denver.”

She slapped the headband back on the rack as she continued searching for other ideas. “It doesn’t have to be black. I could do a sexy tiger … fluff my hair like a mane—” Wren’s eyes bulged, and she dropped her mouth open in a gaping smile. “Holy shit! A sexy lion! And I could tease the crap out of my hair! That’s brilliant!”

Sarah snorted and rolled her eyes, peeling through any other possible options as they browsed down the aisle. “Jesus, Wren.”

She seemed a little better the past few days. Still on edge, and still battling through her trauma, but Wren had found herself tremendously proud of how hard her best friend was fighting through her obstacles to get to some state of normalcy. The detective had proven to be a big part of that, although every time Wren fished for any dirty details about whatever was going on between them, Sarah had shut it down pretty quickly. While they usually shared everything with each other, Wren was understanding of all the reasons this was different. Even with all the suspicion trickling into their lives with big names like Conrad Stratford—the father of the guy that Sarah had been about to marry and had spent the past two years of her life with—they’d been no closer to figuring out who had done this to Sarah, or why. No closer to figuring out what happened to her mother, or why some unnamed group was still trying to pry into her friend’s medical history.

She wished she could take her mind off of it all. Just have one night of raw, undiluted fun. She just wanted to see Sarah happy. It would be even better if some of that happiness was in thanks to her. “Are you sure you’re up to it? The party, I mean?” Wren asked, pausing her search to look over at her. Sarah didn’t stop plundering through costumes, or accessories when she spoke.

“Yeah … I think I need it. Especially if this job turns out to be a disaster. I just—I need an out.”

“Well, I can’t think of a better way to party than an open bar and a club full of tattooed misfits.” Wren smiled, turning back toward the jumbled mixture of outfits.

“You think Dom will invite a bunch of famous artists to this little shindig?” Sarah asked, smirking. There it was, a little spark of excitement.

“Man, I hope so. Give me a reason to tote my damn portfolio to this thing.”

Sarah pulled up her sleeves. “But … you are. ” She grinned, waving a hand over the countless tattoos that Wren had painstakingly covered her skin with.

“Touché, bitch.” Wren laughed, nodding. “But if you’re gonna go as my walking art gallery, then you’re gonna have to dress the part.” She winked. Sarah’s face slackened.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I get to dress you as slutty as humanly possible, and you show as much of my work as you can.” Wren clapped excitedly.

“Oh, fuck.” Sarah’s head fell back, and she turned her body back toward the costume rack. “Mistakes were made. I changed my mind.”

“Nope.” Wren cackled, tearing through revealing adult costumes. “Slutty …”

“On second thought, I really feel like we’d have just as much fun watching horror movies and overeating.”

“What if I can convince your hot detective to come?” Wren took a chance, hoping to see some sign of life. It was Sarah’s turn to bulge her eyes. She threw her palms up, waving them frantically and shaking her head.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Because, Wren … I told you. That’s just—it’s complicated, okay?”

Wren knuckled her hips. “Did he not text you the other night asking if you were safe?”

“Sure.” Sarah shrugged. “But tell me how that is in any way unprofessional, considering what they both bailed me out of at the bar? Northwood texted me later that night, too.”

“Northwood doesn’t look at you like she could devour your mouth, either.” Wren pointed toward her. “And … I don’t remember her getting all hot on your neck at your apartment. Plus, there’s that little bit you keep forgetting about how he said that if you hadn’t been with bitch-boy then he might would have talked to you at the club that night.”

“He doesn’t want this, Wren.”

“Bullshit.”

Sarah threw her arms out to the sides. “I can’t blame him. I’m a lot to deal with even without all the new drama. Photographers everywhere … just … let it go, okay?”

Wren tossed her hand up and rummaged through the rack. “Alright.” It was an effort not to look incredibly guilty, so Wren decided not to turn her face back toward her when she asked her next question. “You heard anything from him?”

“Who?”

“Brent.”

“Why do you care? I thought you’d be happier, honestly.”

Wren pulled out a costume, turning it over and glancing at the price tag before promptly shoving it back onto the rack. “Oh, I’m giddy. I just … wondered how you both were handling it. I kind of expected it to be a little more—I dunno … theatrical?” She huffed a laugh .

“He hasn’t said a word. I’m kind of glad. I mean, I have some questions I’d like answers to, but … I’m not ready for more awkward, tense shit right now. I have enough of that as it is.”

“I get that.” Wren’s eyes grew wide and ravenous when she spotted the perfect outfit. The price wasn’t going to matter. She’d pay it. “Oh, my fu— Sarah .” She jerked the hanger off the rod and spun excitedly toward her. Sarah took one look at it and paled.

“Oh, my God. Please, no. No … no, no and no.”

“Yep. You’re wearing it,” Wren said, hurrying down the aisle while Sarah nervously ran at her heels.

“Wren!”

“It’s not up for debate, bitch!” Sarah tried grasping at the back of her jacket and Wren giggled loudly, batting her away and hauling ass toward the checkout counter.

“Move again, and I’ll rip that heart clean out of your chest … and devour every piece of it,” Dahlia whispered as her tongue slipped along the shell of Devin’s ear. His breathing hitched as she sank back down onto his cock, the dark red blood from his neck dripping down her chin. She raised her eyes toward her other newborn slave—what was his name again? “Patrick …” The light-haired, pretty, little drunk she’d found with his fake I.D. at her bar tried not to tremble beneath her smoldering stare as he awaited her orders from the corner of her four-post bed.

“Yes, mi’lady …” He bowed his head.

“I want you to sack me like you would if I was on that football field. You miss it so much? You don’t appreciate the life I’ve given you?” She licked the blood from her lip.

“I—it’s not—”

“Ungrateful little vulture. Show me how angry you are. Get behind me.” She rocked her hips back and forth, Devin groaning beneath her, keeping as still as death as she rode him. Patrick cautiously moved around the bed, and she lowered her body to lay flush against Devin’s chest. “Get on the bed, boy.” She moaned, spreading her moon-white ass with her slender hands, and inviting him closer as she watched him from over her shoulder. Patrick hesitated, making to cover himself as she stared at his length. Impressive for a kid his age. He was barely nineteen, she’d come to learn. All of Boston was still searching for the missing athlete from the local high school. “Come now, pet. You’re too modest. We’re going to have to fix that. Don’t you want to fuck?” She smiled devilishly.

“I—” He looked as if he could vomit.

Dahlia raised herself off of Devin, turning and crawling across the bed to the youngster. She moved his hands away, taking them into hers and pressing his palms to her naked breasts. He swallowed and his eyes lowered to the remaining stains of the blood on her mouth. “You want a taste, love?” She grinned, a cruel wicked thing. His lip trembled and she moved her hair over her shoulder, exposing her neck and pulling him closer. “Feed.” she ordered, closing her eyes when he moved to obey her. He had almost closed his mouth around the crook of her neck when a knock sounded on her chamber door. Patrick startled, and she snapped her head toward the sound, rolling her eyes and grabbing him by the throat. She threw him like he was no more than a stuffed animal across the room, the sound of his immortal body hitting the wall a sound thud. “Stay right there, you little coward.”

Dahlia stepped off the bed, pulling a black satin robe around her and tying it off in the middle as she padded toward the door. She opened it to find Decclan with his head bowed in apology. “I’m sorry, mi’lady … but you advised me to let you know if anything arose regarding …”

Her thin brow raised, and she smirked. “Athan?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Dahlia chuckled through her nose. “What’s my little detective up to now?” Decclan raised his eyes to hers and her amusement faded. “Speak.”

“He—he was here, ma’am.”

She narrowed her eyes and a slight ripple of rage simmered in her gut. “When?”

“A few nights ago. Before we opened. He had a drink with Tony.”

“And our good bartender didn’t feel obliged to share this information?”

“No, mi’lady. I was checking the camera feeds for the week. He wasn’t here long. Maybe fifteen minutes.”

Dahlia exhaled sharply. “Get him in my office. Now. I’ll meet you there in five.” She turned and slammed the door in Decclan’s face. “You two. Get your clothes on … we have shit to do.” she said, waving an arm over her head as she disappeared into her bathing chamber. She didn’t bother to look back to see if they’d obeyed her.

It was two more days until Halloween. Two more days before the full moon. How wonderful. First full moon on Halloween in ages. Rhaena guzzled down water in her kitchen, sweating like a mule as her heart sped up, and then slowed down. It had been like this all day long. Hot flashes all night, lasting throughout the day. Jenkins had got a little too excited when she’d taken him home with her a few nights ago. She assumed he’d been under the impression that he was to blame for her sudden state of unrest. She let him hold onto that prideful notion. He hadn’t been as bad as she’d expected in bed. He hadn’t been bad at all, if she was being honest. But anyone, in comparison to Athan Kane … would be hard to get used to. She doubted that there were very many that could be as ruthless as he was while having sex.

At least this time she could put her hands on another man’s body. She could face him and be as much in control of the actions as he was. It felt good to be kissed on the mouth. To succumb to some sort of passion, and a long-awaited hookup. She smiled at the thought as she stood with her freezer door open and fanned the cold air toward her. There was a knock at the door, and she blew out a breath as the next wave of a hot flash sent her panting.

“It’s open, Kane!” she yelled, resting her forehead on her extended arm.

“Damn … that bad, huh?” He snickered as she stuck her middle finger up at him.

“This is gonna be a rough one.” She huffed, raising the gallon jug to her mouth, and taking another large gulp from it. “I’m gonna need you to make sure I’m locked up good this time, Athan.”

“Is there anything else I can do?” he asked, leaning against the kitchen doorway.

“I think I need to use the cabin this time.” Rhaena cut him a look over her shoulder.

“You want me to go prep it tonight? The boat chains seemed to work better last time you got like this before the change.”

“It’s a thirty-minute drive.”

“You got gas? I can use your truck.” he offered, sliding a cigarette into his mouth.

“Don’t smoke that in here. And don’t you dare smoke in my car.” Athan moved his cupped hands from around the end of his cigarette and cocked his head in irritation, taking it from his mouth and shoving it back into his pack.

Walden Pond was wooded, and just far enough from Boston that no one would recognize them or pay them any heed. The cabin used to belong to Rhaena’s uncle—the only person she truly cared for, aside from Athan. Her uncle had been fatally hit by a transfer truck over fifteen years ago. An unfortunate accident that left her alone. No pack. No family. Just a small inheritance of the cabin and everything he had in it. On the nights that she felt like she could really lose control or hurt someone, she used the cabin to chain herself in and wait out the night. There, she could scream as loud as she needed to, tear the place apart, and know without a doubt that there wasn’t anyone around for miles that would be in any danger.

“You want me to hang out on Halloween?” Athan asked, pocketing his hands.

Rhaena quieted. “No.”

“I don’t mind, and you know it.”

“If this is some pity-me shit about what happened with Sarah, just know that I would have been there regardless.” She resumed her position, returning her forehead to her arm and cooling down from another surge.

“I know you would’ve. I’ve never liked seeing you like this.”

“Careful, Kane. You almost sound like you give a shit.” Rhaena smiled. He snorted.

“You know I do, Rhaena. And I’ll fuck you up if you tell anybody.” They both laughed, a long pause extending between them .

“Have you talked to her?” Rhaena asked. He didn’t answer and she cut him a glance. “You know you can’t avoid it forever. Whatever we blame this on, she still needs to know the truth before something ends up happening to her. We don’t even know how she’s still alive, or how long she has left before—”

“Stop, please. I know. I’ve been keeping an eye on her. I haven’t seen one sign of her slowing down, or the mark trying to kill her off. If nothing happens, then I’m debating not telling her anything.”

Rhaena spun around to face him. “Are you kidding?” She slammed the freezer door shut. “You can’t do that to her, Kane.”

“If we come up with something to tell the Cap, then I don’t see why we can’t let her believe the same thing if this mark doesn’t claim her life. Then she can go about that life without having me fuck it up for her, Rhaena!”

“You say that shit like you’re not bound to her. You know she feels it too, don’t be fucking stupid!” Rhaena dropped the water jug onto the counter.

“What she feels is only because I bit her.”

“You’re a damn fool if you believe that.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “You know, don’t you …”

“Know what.”

“I knew it. You must have figured it out when I did. Werewolves have mates. I’m willing to bet vampires have the same.”

“Who told you that?” Athan stiffened against the doorway.

“Nobody told me anything. It dawned on me when I saw you two at the precinct the day you left to go talk to Nick Specter. Everything she’s said about you up to this point? If she’s not your mate, you’re an idiot not to be honest with her at least. That girl deserves that much from you.”

“When did you have a sudden change of heart about her?”

Rhaena stepped closer. “Since I realized that you want her just as much as she wants you.”

“Psh …” Athan stared at the floor and shook his head slowly.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” Rhaena waited for some clever retort, but he continued to stare at the floor. “She’s a good one, Athan. Don’t fuck this up. Find a way to tell her the truth. Even if she chooses to kick your ass to the curb, at least you did right by her. Don’t spend the next few centuries, or your whole damn eternity being eaten alive with regret because you didn’t do it.” Rhaena dug her keys out of her bag and handed them over. Athan reached for them, and she jerked them back. “Do. Not. Smoke. In. My. Truck.” She held the keys to her chest and stared him down, sweat starting to trickle down her back and chest again.

“I got it, Rhaena.”

She gave him the keys and he slipped out the door as she turned back and opened the freezer again, waving the entire door to fan herself through the next hot flash. Every part of her dreaded the agony of her shift, but the bigger part of her just wanted to get this over with. She’d already secured the next three days off at the precinct in preparation for this. Rhaena found herself wondering how, after all these years, no one noticed that she always took the same three days around the lunar cycle. Humans truly were oblivious. She growled and leaned into the freezer, panting again, and grabbing for the gallon jug.

As badly as she wanted to wear her new t-shirt, Sarah opted for a slim-fitting black shirt with sleeves long enough to cover most of her tattoos, and a pair of matching scrub pants. It was a lab, after all. It would be cold, clean … familiar. She couldn’t say that she didn’t miss it. Couldn’t say that she wasn’t even a little excited about her first day at EverLife, although she kept the facts in the back of her mind about their unjustified snatching of her lab records at the hospital. They had to be aware that she knew, and that there were people watching them. Both of which seemed inclined to rip the throat out of anyone that wanted to toe the line where Sarah was concerned. Detective Northwood hadn’t answered her texts in the past couple of days, and she hadn’t been brave enough to try Kane again. She still wasn’t sure what to say, especially now that if she truly wanted anything to eventually come of whatever this relationship was … Rhaena had basically given her a blessing.

“Miss St. James? Are you ready?” a petite young woman asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. She held a camera forward and Sarah nodded, straightening herself as she stood in front of a blue square on the wall. “You can smile if you want, most people don’t. Just remember this photo will be on your badge for the entirety of your—”

“Just take it.” Sarah smirked, standing still while the girl nodded and angled her camera. A quick click of the shutter and she was reviewing it, turning it toward her, and Sarah hardly glanced at the picture before nodding in approval.

“I’ll go ahead and send this to Sam. She should have your badge ready by the time we’re done reviewing your drug screening and supplying you with all your gear. If you’ll just step into this office over here on the left and have a seat. I’ll be back in five.”

Sarah slipped into a hard plastic chair and crossed her legs. She could admit she was nervous. Whether this whole thing was a scam, it was also one hell of an opportunity. One she’d worked her ass off for, and she wanted this to go in her favor. She hadn’t even warmed the seat good before footsteps sounded from behind her near the doorway. “That was quick. I didn’t think y—” Sarah stopped dead as she turned in her chair and saw Detective Kane leaning against the door frame.

“Morning.” He smirked.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, quirking a brow.

“Making sure they stay in their lane. Part of the job description.”

“Are you my bodyguard now?” Sarah couldn’t help the smile that crept up the corner of her mouth.

“You’re the center of this case. You can call it whatever you want.”

“Just as long as I don’t invite you out for drinks, right? ”

She watched him stiffen against the doorway and couldn’t help but wonder what was running through that carefully guarded mind. The longer they stared at each other the more tension she felt permeating through the space between them. She couldn’t even use the term hot … or fine … the dude was just downright beautiful. Sarah struggled to find any other word to describe him and found herself unable to remember any other time she’d ever thought that about a man. She didn’t even feel that way about her high school boyfriend … and he had been her first.

“Nervous?” He croaked.

It took her a moment to realize he was asking about the damn job. Sarah swallowed and tore her eyes away from his, clearing her throat. “No, I’m good. I just hate waiting. If I’m working, I like to stay busy. I spend enough time sitting still at home.” A shadow moved across the wall in the hallway and a man appeared next to Kane. They looked at each other and she could have sworn the temperature dropped in the room.

“Detective.” The man dipped his chin and offered a hand. Kane ignored it and he lowered it back down in embarrassment. He then turned toward Sarah and stepped into the room. “You must be Sarah. I’m Nick Specter. We’re glad to have you with us.” He extended the gesture to her instead, and she took it, shaking gently. “Welcome to EverLife.”

“Thank you, Mr. Specter. Do you uh …” She glanced between them. “You two know each other?” The two men exchanged looks again.

“Unfortunately.” Kane crossed his arms.

“Are you here to see me? Or …?” Specter asked, pointing with a thumb toward her.

“Later,” Kane said simply, giving him a firm stare.

“I see.” Sarah smirked, turning away from them, and flexing her ankle as it continued to dangle over the floor.

“Well, I won’t keep you. I just came to introduce myself. Please feel free to come to me with anything. Door’s always open,” Specter offered. Sarah smiled over her shoulder, and he nodded, smiling back before taking another look at the detective and scurrying off. She watched Kane’s eyes trail after him before he turned himself back toward her.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“Don’t forget what you know, Sarah. Keep your eyes peeled for weird shit that doesn’t add up. I need you to promise me you’ll keep us updated.”

“I promise.” She nodded.

Another long pause, and their eyes seemed to always end up meeting again. He started to smile a little. Sarah shrugged and shook her head, prompting him to speak.

“You’re not wearing the shirt?” He snorted.

Sarah chuckled and looked down at her attire. “Not today.”

“Oh … hi there,” the young girl said, scooting around Kane as she bounced into the room. “Can I help you?” She was just being polite…Sarah knew that. But the way she smiled at him set her blood on fire.

“He’s not here for you.” She growled, earning attention from both of them, Kane especially. She caught the look of surprise on his features .

“Oh, I’m—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean …”

“You’re fine. I’m sorry … just nerves.” Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose in shame. She had been right when she told Rhaena she was losing control of whatever this darkness was in her. There had to be some way to get it back.

“What’s this?” Kane asked, gesturing to the white material wrapped in clear plastic that the girl held in her arm.

“Oh, this is your lab coat, Miss St. James. I’ve also got a bag full of gear.” She raised a black drawstring bag hanging from her elbow. “And your badge.” She extended her arm and handed Sarah the card. The picture wasn’t bad. Kane shuffled against the doorway and grinned.

“What?” Sarah sneered, staring him down.

“Oh, I’m staying to see this, at least.”

“You’re the worst.” Sarah griped, taking the items, and unwrapping the lab coat. It was stiff, but it would do for today. She stood and shrugged it around her, clipping the badge onto the pocket. Kane snickered.

“Okay, bye, ” Sarah said, rolling her eyes and shoving him in the shoulder. The girl giggled at them, and he stepped out into the hall. “You’re not staying. Go find someone to beat the shit out of.” It was hard for her to keep the smile from her face. It seemed hard for him too, but she tried not to read too much into it. Sarah kept reminding herself that he was a professional and pushing whatever this was would only be an obstacle. He’d made that clear enough.

“Knock ‘em dead, St. James.” He saluted her like an asshat and pocketed his hands as he turned and disappeared down the hallway.

“Everything came back great. If you’re ready, I’ll take you upstairs?” The little blonde offered, trying to hide her interest in wherever Kane was headed. Sarah turned back toward her.

“Lead the way.”

Athan found himself smirking the entire way to Nick’s office after he’d left Sarah to start her first day at EverLife. It wasn’t like him. He was beginning to realize that Rhaena was right. It wasn’t like he didn’t already know that she was changing every part of him. Sarah didn’t know him well enough to know that though—she didn’t know him at all. Truthfully, he didn’t know anything about her, either. It didn’t stop him from wanting every part of her. In that ancient heart she’d set beating again, he knew that it couldn’t be anything more than just an instinct … but it felt better than he’d like to admit. He was dying to ask her everything. It was clear that Rhaena’s observations were heading in the right direction. Sarah’s edge to her voice seemed just as territorial as his any time anyone so much as looked at her. He knew that flame. The itch in her blood that must be driving her as crazy as it drove him when people got too close to what his body demanded was his. She was healing, but it was obvious that th e five stages that Rhaena had mentioned was clearly something they needed to look further into.

He should take his partner’s advice. She needed to know the truth. It killed him to think of how this was going to devastate her. How much she’d hate him. Athan wasn’t sure how to even have this conversation. He’d put it off for as long as he could manage. The assistant that he’d scared the wits out of gaped when he stepped out of the elevator, and he slowed into a smooth gait as he approached her.

“I’m sorry … I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I acted … unfavorably my last visit. I apologize,” he offered as she tensed behind her desk. She gave him a slow, wary nod.

“He’s alone. You can just go in.”

“Thanks.” He patted the top of the desk, his silver ring on his thumb clanging against it. Athan didn’t bother knocking as he opened the door and found Nick standing by the large windows with his hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks, staring out over the campus. Nick didn’t acknowledge him.

“She’s a very pretty girl,” Nick said dryly, hanging his head.

“She is,” Athan agreed, snicking the door shut and moving toward the chair across from Nick’s desk. He dropped into it and sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair.

“I can see it. Whatever it is between you. I understand why you went for the psycho approach the last time you were here.”

“Don’t elaborate on that. I’m not in the mood.” Kane rubbed his chin. “Nick, I need you to be comfortable playing both sides of the fence here. Comfortable and discreet. I need to know you’re capable of that.”

Specter turned toward him but stayed by the window. “I can do it. If that’s what it’ll take to stay alive.”

“It will. And if anything happens to her, staying alive will be the last thing you want. I wanna be clear on that. I’ll make you suffer in every way. You’ll be begging me to kill you. You understand?”

“I got it, Kane. I’ll ask you not to elaborate on that. ” He shifted on his feet. “I’m assuming you’re up here because you found something?”

“I don’t have the proof I need … but I’m pretty confident that the ones that broke into the lab were Dahlia’s crew,” Athan said, meeting Nick’s confused stare.

“I don’t understand. Why would she purposely contaminate the blood supply she needs?”

“I don’t know that either, but I’m tossing around a few ideas.”

“Such as?”

Athan spun his ring. “If she’s working with Stratford, it’s gotta be something they cooked up together. If I’m right, and the suspects were from the coven, then it would explain why it was so difficult to identify them. That’s gonna take some time to prove. When I left your office, I went to the club to confront her, but that didn’t end up happening.” Nick stared at him, urging him to give more. “The only thing that would make sense to me, is that she’s doing it to have a reason to nullify the agreement and pull her funding for EverLife. The why, is still a mystery. ”

“There’s something else. I can see it on you,” Nick pressed.

“It’s personal.”

“Well, it’s a little personal to me too, Kane. My nuts are on the line here as well. If you want me to be confident in playing both sides of the fence, then I’m gonna need your honesty. I’d say that’s fair.”

Athan couldn’t disagree with that. “She knows I’m the one that set this up. That was an agreement between me and her. I won’t bother explaining the details of coven loyalty but … it was the only card I found to play in getting myself out from under them. The deal was basically to get the coven a steady amount of bags and they wouldn’t feed on humans. In exchange, I get my freedom … when I’ve satisfied my debt.”

“And how long until you meet that quota?”

Athan stared at the wall. “Seventy-three years.”

Nick scoffed and flailed his arms. “Kane, I’m not immortal, man. How long did you think you’d be able to keep this shit up with the center? Or was your plan to turn me into one of you?” Athan glanced over at him, and Nick palmed over his face. “Christ.” He paced for a moment. “So, you think she sabotaged it to keep you tied up with her?”

“I think that’s a likely possibility.”

“So … how does all this tie in with your girl?” Nick asked, pausing again in front of the window, but keeping focused on Athan.

“What do you know about Sarah’s mother?”

“Just that the bastard wants the information. Something medical. Other than that, nothing.”

Athan stood, turning toward a glass set of shelves and stepping toward it, looking over the titles of bullshit books that lined them. He doubted they were even real books, and probably just there for decoration. What a disgrace. “Sarah’s mother died from some kind of virus that nobody had ever identified before. The government has done a lot to cover it up. Even Sarah doesn’t know what it is. They cremated her without Sarah’s consent and sealed off the documents. If Conrad wants that information, there’s a reason for it.”

“So, St. James is a lab rat. The only trace left of whatever they’re after.”

Athan hummed his confirmation and toyed with a small abstract statue. “She’s healing faster than anyone would have expected. Says she doesn’t often get sick. She also told us she was pretty positive somebody had taken her one night to some medical facility and experimented on her before dumping her back in her bed. Of course, we can’t prove any of that. If it was the government’s doing, then those files are gonna be locked up, too.”

“This is insane. I feel like I’m trapped in a bad movie.”

Athan turned back to face him and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m sure she feels that way too, Nick.” Specter flushed pink with shame and nodded as he hung his head.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, genuinely.

“Watch her. Call me if you see anything suspicious. If that piece of shit comes back to your office, or contacts you, I need to know about it. And don’t let him get anywhere near her, you understand?” Athan flashed him a look that had the CEO paling.

“I got you, man. I’m sorry … for what it’s worth.”

“Just because I’m not human, doesn’t mean I don’t remember what it’s like, Specter. Just look out for her. Please .”

Athan turned on his heel and didn’t look back at Nick as he opened the door and stepped through it. Kerah tensed as he walked past, and he jerked his head toward her in farewell as he trudged to the elevator. His phone dinged as the doors opened and he pulled it out. Sarah sent him a picture of her in her goggles and cap. Something tightened in his chest, and he immediately saved it to his phone. As the elevator lowered, he typed her a reply. He debated on sending it, unsure of what kind of invitation he’d be sending with it.

Too late.

Me: … saving this … it’s gonna be your contact photo.

He pocketed the phone and made his way through the main lobby, nearly reaching the entrance when it went off again.

Sarah: people usually only store a contact if it’s someone they’re fairly fond of … if you’re saving mine, I think it’s only fair that I get one too

Exactly the reason he shouldn’t have sent anything … but again, that issue of his self-control …

Me: didn’t the newspapers give you enough photos of me?

She’d probably have his ass for that jab, but he smiled and kept walking toward the parking lot.

Ding.

Sarah: oh, you’re giving me one … or I’ll be taking it by force.

Something fluttered in his gut with that one. It’d be the biggest lie he’d ever told if he said it didn’t excite him to think of the ways she could force it out of him.

Me: I look forward to it.

The three little dots danced above the keyboard, and he paused, smiling to himself.

Sarah: … you’re gonna regret that remark. just wait until you see the wig I’m gonna put on you. ; )

“Psycho …” He grinned, sliding the phone into his pocket, and hauling a leg over his bike.

It had been a long drive. Longer than the usual thirty minutes it normally took to get there with how many times Rhaena had to stop or pull over to gather herself. Her heart was pounding so hard in her heaving chest that she was sure it would fail her this time. She tried to remind herself that she thought that every month, especially during the daylight hours that she spent preparing herself for the absolute agony that would come after the sun set. The expanding of her bones, the splintering pain that racked through her, the excruciating ache of her skull as it molded itself into a monster. Rivulets of sweat poured down every inch of her as she panted in the innermost closet of the cabin. Athan had followed behind her on his motorcycle this afternoon, offering any relief he could every time she stopped her truck. They only had two hours left until dusk and every second seemed more agonizing than the last.

“You ready?” he asked, kneeling in front of her. Rhaena looked over her leggings and the sports bra she cared the least about and nodded breathlessly as she tied her hair in a knot atop her dripping head.

“There’s gotta be a way …” She huffed, fighting through her inability to get a deep enough breath. “After all these years, there has to be some way to either stop this or slow it down. I don’t wanna do this anymore, Athan.” She held as still as she could manage as he started chaining up her ankles.

“I had a thought, but I’ve never asked about it. It’s probably stupid. Most likely part of the old myth, but …” He jerked on the chain on her left foot, testing its security.

“What? Tell me,” she begged, turning up a plastic gallon jug of water.

“Are werewolves really allergic to silver?”

She paused, mid-gulp and looked at him with her mouth still on the bottle. She finished that swallow and breathed raggedly while he stared back at her. “Yes. That’s always been true. Silver can kill me. Not a myth.”

He secured the second chain, testing that one too. “But have you ever tried to find out if it can stop your shift? What if you had a necklace. Or this?” He held up his hand, nodding toward his silver ring he wore on his thumb.

“Wearing it won’t kill me. Getting stabbed with it would. I’m not sure what would happen, honestly.”

“So, if you tried suspending yourself with say … silver-plated chains or shackles?”

She glared at him. “Did you not just hear what I said?”

“Yes. But would you be willing to try it?” He shrugged, reaching for her hand as he pulled the other chain from the wall .

It was something to consider, she supposed. She didn’t feel confident enough trying something without being restrained. “Finish this first. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

She watched him fasten the chain around her wrist and he jerked at it. “Pull that as hard as you can.” She did, and it clanked loudly, not budging from its metal post they’d fashioned into the wall behind her. “What usually happens if you wear silver?”

She reflected back on her childhood with her uncle. His warnings about it. “I’ve been warned since I was young to stay the hell away from it. That it can weaken a wolf to near death. Gives an enemy a fighting chance to take us out.” Their eyes met, and Rhaena knew they had likely been thinking the same thing. “Finish it.” She panted. Athan made quick work with the other wrist and when he jerked his head toward where it met the wall, she tested that side. Secure.

“Should I put it on a chain? Or just whatever finger it would fit on? It needs to be secure enough not to fly off, or this probably won’t work.”

“Try it on my forefinger.” Rhaena said, pointing toward him. She braced herself, not knowing what to expect and he slid it off his thumb, holding her hand steady as he pushed it over her skin. Rhaena jolted back, the sudden intrusion of fire licking her skin shooting all the way up her arm. She screamed and Athan lunged forward, reaching to grab the ring. “Don’t!” She ground out, tears pouring from her eyes. “Wait! —Just wait!” She banged the back of her head against the wall as the pain traveled through her shoulder, then across to the other and down that arm … her torso … her legs.

“Rhaena! Let me take it off, this was fucking stupid! Gimme your hand!” Athan leaned over her, taking her face in his hands and nearly straddling her to keep her steady. She clutched her fingers into a fist and tucked it behind her, slowly feeling herself surrender to paralyzing muscles. The burning eased and her breathing slowed. “Take it off!” Athan demanded again, she could just make out the blurred image of his face as he hovered over her.

“It’s—working …” She panted in a whisper. “Get back, Kane.”

“We don’t know how safe this is, Rhaena … I shouldn’t have fucking said anything, take it off … please, take it off.”

“I can reach it. If I think something bad is gonna happen, I’ll take it off. Just leave me here.” She felt herself relax against the wall; her body felt heavy on the wooden floor.

“Yeah? Move your legs.” He seethed.

She stared up at him deliriously, trying and failing to move anything. He could be right. It was poisoning her. Leaving it might weaken her enough to stop the shift, but how long would it be okay? Her uncle didn’t warn her about it that often because it was an easy fix to their issues. If it had been that simple, he would have taught her how. “I can’t …” she admitted.

“I’m sorry … I’m so sorry.” Athan gritted his teeth and reached behind her, prying open her fingers and tearing the ring off. “Don’t ever listen to me again.” He hurled himself back and Rhaena’s body arced, ev ery bone in it creaking … every muscle tensing and tingling as it fought its way back to life. Back to agony. She widened her mouth in a scream. It wouldn’t be long now. She could feel pressure in the tendons of her feet … her hands. The ache in her head was a familiar reminder of what she was about to become again … what she wished so badly she wasn’t.

The lone wolf.

Athan sat close by on the floor, his back resting against the side of the small bed and his legs outstretched, looking every bit the shamed friend that wanted so badly to help her, but knew he couldn’t. “Athan …” she started, breathing frantically. “I don’t have long … talk to me … please.” He raised his knees and braced his head on his hands, staring at her like he was her biggest failure. “Stop looking at me like that!” She panted. “Just get my mind off of it …. where’s Sarah?”

“She said she’d be with Wren tonight.”

“Be with her where?”

“I dunno, Rhaena.” Athan shrugged, his tone a bit too smart ass for her current state of mind. “It’s Halloween … maybe they’re going trick-or-treating?”

Rhaena groaned and clenched her teeth … they were starting to hurt too. She breathed through it. “Have you not talked to her? One of us needs to … keep up with her.”

“Just a text here and there since she started at the lab a couple days ago. I’ve got eyes on her. What about Jenkins?”

Rhaena jerked her face toward him, sweat dripping from her brow. “What about him?”

“Where did you tell him you were going for three days?”

“We’re not dating. I don’t … have to tell him shit.” She nodded toward the jug of water. “Can you help me?” He scooted closer and held it up for her so she could drink a bit.

“You don’t think he’s gonna wonder?”

She swallowed, water trickling from both corners of her mouth. “He’s never wondered before? Every month? If not … why bother now?” Sharp pains shot up her spine and the column of her neck and she couldn’t stifle her wail. “You should go, Kane.”

“I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Yeah, well … ugh … I don’t want you to see me—” She bowed forward and groaned in pain. Athan’s cool hand felt like ice against her blazing skin.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said simply.

All she could manage was a grateful nod.

Wren had noticed that Sarah wasn’t in the best of moods since yesterday. She had asked her if it had anything to do with the job, or something she’d found but Sarah hadn’t wanted to really talk about it. Instead, she seemed a lot more eager to dress up in the outfit she’d begged Wren not to buy at the shop earlier this week, and even went so far as to take her makeup next level, adding fake blood and long white extension clips in her hair.

“I’ll be honest … if I batted for the other team, I’d be fuckin’ ya.” Wren cackled from the mirror, adding the finishing touches to her own makeup, and teasing her hair a little more.

“Well, at least somebody wants to,” Sarah drawled, lacing up a pair of knee-high black heels. Denver watched from the coffee table in Wren’s cluttered apartment, both his green eyes darting between them in utter confusion.

“Look, if you take somebody home tonight, you’re taking them to your house. You know the rules.”

I’m not taking anybody home. I’ve got a plan.” Sarah smirked without looking back up at her. Wren watched her from the mirror and set down her lip pencil.

“And that is?”

“If I get drunk enough, I guess you’ll find out.”

She never talked like this. They had gotten drunk plenty of times before, but Wren couldn’t shake off the bad feeling she was continuing to get about Sarah’s behavior as the days went on. Was this some kind of survivor’s guilt? A sudden YOLO trigger that had been set off because she’d almost died? She wasn’t sure how to navigate this new version of her best friend and talking to her about it never seemed to go anywhere.

“Are you okay?” Wren dared ask as Sarah finished lacing her other boot. Sarah hopped up from the couch and adjusted the black velvet corset to push up her tits. Her chest tattoos were on full display, along with every inch of her pale arms, and most of her legs as they shone through her fishnet tights. There was hardly any way to call that a skirt, either. It just barely covered the bottom of her ass. She looked better than Wren could have ever expected, especially with the makeup and hair.

“I’m fine! Why?” she asked excitedly, looking at her with a raised brow. “I take back everything I said about the sexy lion.”

Wren adjusted the form-fitting fuzzy bodysuit, snapping the elastic around her bare thigh and grinning as she gestured obscenely with the long tail. “I like this part the best.”

“You ready?” Sarah asked, grabbing her cigarettes, wallet, and phone.

“Very. Let’s roll,” Wren agreed, following her out the door and locking it up behind them. It didn’t take more than five minutes to drive to the packed little club that Dominic had reserved only for his own guests for the night. As Wren parked the car, lightning flashed around them, and thunder rolled. “Nothing creepier on Halloween than a storm.”

“Not too late to go back and watch movies … although, I’m no longer in the mood.” Sarah winked as she opened the car door.

“We could go bag-snatching. Scare the shit outta little kids?” Wren laughed, walking to the front of the car.

“Nah … I’m getting lit. ”

She supposed there was no talking her out of it. Wren couldn’t get over the nagging feeling that something about bringing her here just didn’t feel right. Maybe it had more to do with the fact that the last time they’d gone out, she’d almost lost her. This would pass. She shrugged it off and they went inside, flashing lights and dance music greeting them as they entered. They dove right in, and for the first two hours, both of them were having the time of their lives. People were dressed in costumes all around them, pictures being taken left and right with strangers, and all the right ingredients for terrible decisions were everywhere. It was the kind of scene that Wren lived for. She used to beg Sarah to get this sloshed … but for once, it seemed like they had traded places.

Sarah was dancing with a girl that was dressed like Red Riding Hood, both well beyond drunk. One of the visiting artists had also taken a liking to her and had come up behind Sarah with a drink, offering it to her and to Wren’s shock, she took it without a second thought.

“Hey!” Wren smiled, hurrying to her side. “Why don’t we slow it down a little, yeah?” She made to take the drink from her hand before it made it to Sarah’s mouth, but she jerked it away.

“Why? You’re usually begging me to! Get your own!” Sarah slurred, knocking the entire drink back. Her new story book friend laughed and ground herself on Sarah’s thigh, looping an arm around her waist. The man that had given her the drink joined in behind her and Wren couldn’t hide the shock from her face when Sarah brought him closer and leaned herself back against him.

“Sarah, look … maybe it’s time to go home.”

“She seems pretty comfortable to me.” The nameless asshole purred, turning Sarah’s chin up and leaning in to kiss her. She didn’t even hesitate. Tongues were clashing over dark purple lipstick and Wren felt her stomach turning. Red Riding Hood wasn’t getting enough attention, she supposed, and decided to join in … Sarah obliged her too.

“Sarah, that’s enough, babe. Let’s go.” Wren urged, tugging at her arm. Sarah pulled away, something in her usually bright, hazel eyes darkening. She growled … growled at her. Like some animal about to pounce. Wren winced.

“You wanna go, then go … I’m staying right here.” Sarah snarled in a voice that didn’t sound a thing like her.

That was enough. Wren dug her phone out of the small bag she’d brought and dialed Athan. It rang several times and then his voicemail picked up. She hung up and tried again … twice. After the third time, she decided to leave a message. “Hey Kane, it's Wren. I need your help. Something’s up with Sarah. She’s—” Wren looked over her shoulder and Sarah was pawing all over the woman she continued to dance with. “Look, just call me. Please. I’m worried.” She hung up and sent him a text, hoping maybe he’d call back. After a few long minutes of waiting and watching her accept yet another drink spiked with God knows what, Wren reluctantly dialed someone else.

“Wren? ”

“Hey … look, I’m sorry to bother you. You know you’d be the last person I’d ever call for help, but—”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Sarah …”

“What happened? Where are you?”

“We’re at a Halloween gig at Back Door Bar. I can’t convince her to leave. She’s gonna do something stupid and I need someone to help me.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

“I wouldn’t stay here if somebody paid me! I’m here to pick up someone that can’t drive herself home, now get the fuck outta the way!” Brent screeched at the bouncer outside the bar.

“She can meet you out here. Get back.” The muscled grunt shoved him with his forearm and inched himself further in front of the door.

“Do you know who I am?” Brent asked, a light mist of rain glistening on his suit.

“Yeah, I know who you are. And your name ain’t on the list. Get back.”

Brent pointed at him. “You’re gonna regret this shit.”

“Goodie.” The guy smirked, his bald head shining in the streetlight.

Brent slid his phone out of his pocket and dialed Wren.

“Hey!”

“I can’t get in here. You’re gonna have to bring her out.”

“Dude, that ain’t gonna happen.”

“What’s going on?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

He hung up on her and fisted his hair as he turned around. “Fuck!” he groaned.

Athan had been sweating as he watched Rhaena struggle helplessly against her restraints in her wolf form for the past few hours. He’d been frustrated enough, wanting to end this for her and knowing he couldn’t do a damn thing, to peel his jacket off and toss it onto the bed. He sat against an old wooden nightstand on the floor with his knees up and his hands in his hair as she howled and roared. She looked pitiful. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen this dozens of times, but the longer they’d known each other, the more it ate at him. He needed a cigarette … and some air. He stood, grabbing his jacket off the bed and giving the massive beast a look of condolence before retreating into the den and out the front door to take a moment on the covered front porch .

The rain had stopped, and he could see puffs of his breath in the chill of the air as he pulled the jacket back on and dug out his pack. The glow of his cherry lit the palms of his hands as he flicked his lighter shut and inhaled deeply, blowing out a thick cloud of smoke. A couple of long drags in, his phone started ringing. It was the precinct.

“Kane.”

“Kane, it’s Jenkins. Is Northwood with you?”

“No, she’s off for a few days. Why, what’s up?”

“I’ve been trying both your phones. You’ve got a body.”

“What?”

“A … bo-dy …” Jenkins emphasized.

“Why are you calling us? Aren’t you homicide, too? We’re already on a case.”

“Kane, you don’t understand … this is yours. I need one of you to get here. Now. You’re gonna wanna see this.”

Athan’s jaw twitched. “Another attack?”

“Yeah, but … look, just get here. I’ll send you the location. Hurry up.”

Call ended.

Athan looked through his missed calls. Jenkins had called three times … so did Wren. She’d also texted and left a voicemail. He listened to it. His stomach flipped.

No … no, no, no … not her.

“Fuck!” Athan panicked, flicking his cigarette, and rushing inside. He called Wren as he hurried through the cabin … no answer. Rhaena continued to flail against the chains in the bedroom closet and he grabbed her keys from the nightstand. Her growl rolled through her heaving chest, and she watched him like a predator, snarling and snapping her maw. Long streams of saliva hung from her bared teeth. “Rhaena … I’ve got to leave. Do you understand? Can you hear me?” She snapped in response and jerked the chains as far as they’d go. “There’s a body. I’ve gotta go. I’m gonna come back, okay?” He slid his ring off and moved toward her. She watched him warily, seeming to understand but not able to control herself. She snapped at him again like a rabid dog on a chain as he sat the ring on the threshold of the closet floor. He jumped back. “If you think you’ll do something crazy before I get back, use it. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

He rushed out, leaving his bike and hopping into Rhaena’s truck, backing out and plugging the address from Jenkins into her GPS. It would take almost forty minutes to get there. He could make it in twenty. He silently asked Rhaena to forgive him as he nervously lit up another cigarette and floored the gas pedal, doing almost a hundred as he tore down MA-2 toward Boston. He called Wren again … no answer. Then he tried Sarah’s phone. It didn’t even ring. His heart started thrashing. All he could think about was Dahlia or Conrad … or both of them, figuring out the obvious and punishing him by hurting her. He should have been smarter about this. He should have protected her. Athan cursed under his breath, slamming his hand against the steering wheel .

He made it to US-3 just outside the city in about fifteen minutes. He was flying. By the time he’d made it to the crime scene, they had already bagged the body and tagged the surrounding area for evidence. It was another alley on the far side of town, nestled in between two buildings that used to be painted white, but were falling apart. He slammed the truck door shut and met Jenkins at the hood of his patrol car, tossing his head around and looking for any signs of Wren or Sarah, but finding nothing.

“Hey …” Jenkins said, his face pale.

“Where is it?” Athan demanded, walking past him toward the crime scene. Jenkins fell into step beside him, struggling to keep up with his pace.

“Kane, wait … I need you to stay focused, man. I’m really sorry.”

Athan’s heart threatened to take flight and his stomach hurt. He’d tear this world apart. He’d fucking kill every last one of them. As he approached the black body bag, the flashing patrol lights lit up the walls of the buildings on either side of the alley and he caught sight of a message written in blood along the left wall.

TRICK-OR-TREAT

He knelt down, swallowing hard, and jerked the zipper down on the bag. It caught in strands of raven-black hair, and he thought he’d lose his mind. He carefully untangled it and slid the zipper father down, opening the bag wider to find a heavily mutilated body in a band t-shirt … bloodied denim shorts and ripped black tights. His breath hitched and he brushed the hair away from her face. They had sliced it everywhere. She was barely recognizable, a gaping wound on her gray neck … or what they had left of it. Athan thought he’d be sick. He started breathing heavily, reaching down to take her cold, lifeless hand. His thumb slid across the top and he could hardly control himself. He ran his other hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry, Kane …” Jenkins offered. “We’re gonna find this son-of-a-bitch.”

Athan turned her hand over, and nearly wept when he realized what was missing. Her pale wrist was blank. No raven … no quote from her favorite poem.

“Holy fuck …” he breathed. “It isn’t her!” He jerked his face toward Jenkins who drew his brows together. “Sarah has a raven tattoo on this wrist. This isn’t her.”

“Shit …” Jenkins stood, waving over one of their colleagues. “Get the M.E. out here. We need forensics working on this ASAP. We need to identify this vic.” The young cop nodded, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder, and jogging back to the patrol car. Athan peered down at the girl, and then back up at the message on the wall. They were toying with them. That message was meant for him.

They know … and they’re coming for them both .

He had to find her and get her somewhere safe. He zipped the bag back up and stood, dialing Wren again. She finally answered.

“Kane! I’m so sorry, I’ve been try—”

“Where the fuck are you? Where’s Sarah?”

“We’re at Back Door Bar. I’ve been trying to get her out, but she’s out of control.”

“I’m on my way, don’t either of you move from that spot, you understand?”

“Yes.”

He hung up, nodding at Jenkins and hurrying back to the truck. When he pulled up, he was surprised to find Brent outside arguing with some bulky bald guy. The bouncer eyed him as he slammed the door, and Brent turned around.

“Detective!” The fancy lawyer pleaded, stalking toward him. “Wren called me to get her out, but they won’t let me past.” Athan gritted his teeth and met eyes with the man standing guard by the door. He raised his badge and flashed his gun.

“He’s with me. Move, or I’ll move you.” Athan sneered. A muscle in the man’s jaw feathered but he stood aside, and Brent followed behind him as he stormed in. Colored strobes flashed everywhere, and loud music played. People dressed as everything from slutty butterflies to demons dry-humped each other on the dance floor. Athan’s eyes darted in all directions looking for them. Whispers drowned out the noise of the bar and he followed the tug in his middle toward the back of the room.

“Kane!” a familiar voice called, a skanky little lion rushing toward him. Wren.

“Where is she!” He yelled over the music. Wren pointed over to a set of dance poles on a small stage in the corner, and when he spotted her, he nearly boiled over with rage. Sarah was obliterated. She twirled around the pole, tossing her hair around and raising her leg high enough to show the entirety of her lacy black thong beneath her fishnet tights. Hands were reaching up and touching her everywhere they could, men and women alike.

“Holy shit, Sarah …” Brent said from beside him. They pushed through costumed bodies, Wren following close behind them until they made it to the stage. It took everything Athan had not to rip the arms off of every person brave enough to touch her.

It was almost as if she’d sensed him there. She turned, pressing her back against the pole, and raising her arms to grab it above her as she locked eyes with him and slid down, spreading her knees as wide as they’d go before him. Her scent alone had him ravenous, but the way she looked … his self-control was steadily slipping. A vampire … she’d dressed up as a vampire for fucking Halloween. He was going to lose it. Sarah smiled at him, dropping to her knees and crawling toward him, completely dismissing Brent as he gawked beside him.

“I was hoping you’d be here.” She grinned drunkenly, fake blood staining her chin. He couldn’t help but find it incredibly sexy on her. Fuck the rest of that outfit .

“Let’s go.” He jerked his head toward the entrance.

“Where are you taking me?” She smiled, eyeing every part of his body as she slithered forward and pressed her palms against his chest. She turned her face toward Brent. “What are you doing here?” She rolled her eyes. The disgruntled lawyer said nothing, crossing his arms and watching her. Good. He’d hate to have to rip his throat out in front of her. Some shirtless, tattooed punk reached for her exposed ass and Athan grabbed his wrist.

“Touch her again and I’ll break your fucking arm.” He growled, twisting the bones until the man grunted in pain.

“Who the fuck are you? She’s been with me all night!” He barked, trying to pry his fingers off.

“Don’t test me.” Athan seethed, gripping hard enough to make the guy sweat. He nodded frantically and Athan released him, Brent and Wren both looking on in shock. Sarah’s smile grew wider, and she slid her hands up his collar, hooking her arms around his neck.

“I knew it …” She giggled. “You do want me.”

“That’s enough. Let’s go,” Athan said reaching around her and lifting her off the stage. He scooped her into his arms and her head fell back as she chuckled, her legs dangling playfully over his arm. “Wren, her stuff.”

“I’ve got it,” she confirmed, following behind him as they made their way to the door. The sounds of the music died as they walked outside and Athan didn’t stop to say another word to the bouncer, or anyone else as he carried Sarah to the truck. Brent opened the passenger side door, and they eased her inside, buckling her in. Sarah smiled, hardly able to keep her eyes open as Athan raised her head.

“What did she have?” he asked as Wren stood on the other side of the door.

“God only knows. I tried to stop her, but she fought me off. I’ve never seen her like this.”

Sarah’s eyes rolled back, and she started passing out. He laid her head down on the center console and backed himself out of the truck, closing the door behind him. “Can you drive, Wren?” he asked. Wren nodded. “Follow me.”

Brent looked on from the curb, arms crossed and defeated, as Wren unlocked her car. Athan made his way around the front of the truck, stopping to look at him. “Thanks for your help … if you wanna take her to my place, you guys can follow me there. She can stay as—”

“She’s not staying with you, Stratford.” Athan cut him off. Brent looked as if he could combust with anger.

“It’s safe there. You don’t know her like I do.”

He couldn’t stop himself from stepping forward until they were standing chest-to-chest. “It doesn’t matter how well I know her. Tomorrow, I want you at the 12th for questioning.”

“I haven’t done a damn thing wrong,” Brent sneered.

“I never said you did. But if you’re fucking stupid enough to believe she’s safe anywhere near you, or your family … then we need to ha ve a talk. You’ll probably feel safer having that conversation at the precinct.”

Brent swallowed and clenched his jaw. Athan didn’t bother saying anything else and stalked to the driver’s side door, jerking it open and crawling inside. Brent never moved an inch as they backed out and peeled onto the street.