Black Bird (Nevermore Duet #1)

CHAPTER 27

AMNESTY

He had nearly told her to go fuck herself when she’d called him out of the blue, but when Gretchen told him to get to the community hospital as fast as he could, Brent had tested his skill in weaving through Boston traffic. His mother had been transported by ambulance, and while severe nosebleeds were common with her type of cancer … she wasn’t doing very well at all. Gretchen made it a point to mention that his father wasn’t coming, and that he’d be in no danger of violating the restraining order. Patricia had requested that Brent be the only person allowed to visit her. The gray of morning was beginning to lighten the sky beyond the blinds of her hospital room window, and he peered out of them sadly.

“You better not do that when I’m gone, boy,” Pat’s voice was weak and raspy. He turned his head to look at her and went straight to her side, taking her chilled fingers into his hands. “Promise me you won’t.”

“Stop talking like that, Mom. You’re not going anywhere.”

Her head rested against the incline of the hospital bed, and she smiled softly at him. “The only reason I’m not already gone is because none of my hospice paperwork had been done yet when this happened. Once it’s finished, there won’t be any more care, Brent. I need to know you’ll be alright.”

He couldn’t meet her eyes when he answered, instead he looked down at her hand, caressing it in his own. “I’m fine, Mom.”

“You’ve always been a horrible liar. I think that makes you a better lawyer than the rest of those crooked snakes.”

He huffed through his nose and forced a weak smile, shaking his head. “You don’t have to lie to win cases. You just have to be very good at chess.”

Pat chuckled warmly. “You’re horrible at that, too.”

He grinned, but his heart felt like it was slowly cracking in half. “If I told you that there was a way to fix it … would you?” He forced himself to look into her eyes, knowing that even though she would never lie to him, those eyes would bleed truth.

“Now you sound like your father.” She smirked, grasping his hand. “Why do you ask?”

“I need to know. I need to know what you’d choose, and I’d rather hear it from you, than just assume that I already know the answer.”

“There is no answer, Brent. I already told you … there won’t be any more care. ”

Brent loosed a frustrated sigh and leaned closer. “I’m not talking about care. I’m talking about a cure . Would you take it if it would save your life, Mom?”

Her eyes narrowed, and then slowly softened. “No, baby … no.” She let go of his hand and raised it to cup his face. “If there were ever such a thing … I’d be grateful that someone else could find their hope in it. I don’t need hope anymore, Brent. I’ve lived a beautiful life.” Tears started to well in her eyes, and he felt his sting too. “I’m happy. I’m very happy, and I’m ready to rest my head … hang my hat. Can you accept that?”

Brent swallowed hard, staring at her for a long moment before nodding as a tear crept down his cheek and into her hand. She wiped it away with her thumb and pulled his face forward until their heads touched. “I’m gonna miss you, Mom.”

“I’ll never be far. You be good … and honest. Be better than this world, Brent. Sometimes the right things are the hardest things. But that’s what makes us strong. That’s where you’ll always find me. Right beside you … every step.” She leaned up and kissed his forehead. “I love you.”

He knew that it could be the last time he’d ever hear it. Knew it could very well be the last time he’d ever hug her. Brent finally let go of the tight grip he had on his emotions and buried his face into her fragile shoulder to weep. “I love you too.”

Waking up this early was a testament of sheer will. Especially with the way Athan was looking at her right now … or just the way he looked in general. He had bitten her last night. Sarah had tried several times—and failed—to think of one possible reason to feel anything but enamored by it. Somehow it just felt so incredibly right . The minute those pointed teeth sank into her skin … the moment she watched him drink the very essence of her, she remembered the way a perfect combination of pain, peace, and an indescribable rush of pleasure took over every part of her body. It was like she’d had this small flame burning all along, that so many had tried to snuff out, and this man dumped an entire bucket of fuel over it. It burned so hot that it could have taken this entire building down with them, and had they not needed to be up to surrender themselves at the precinct this morning, it would have undoubtedly continued to rage until neither of them had a damned thing left.

Anything she thought she’d felt the first night they’d been together was child’s play compared to what they’d done last night. There was no judgment or strange looks. There was no hint of shame or misunderstanding. Just the harmony and completeness of finally being so perfectly matched with someone else, that everything before him just seemed as ridiculous as it had always made her feel. He had taken her two more times in this bed. Then, she’d sworn she caught an accent that he’d somehow managed to mask the entire time she’d known him when she rode him like a stallion and drew some blood of her own right over the mark that wicked bitch had left on him over two-hundred years ago. The way he had so impressively cursed when he spilled every drop inside of her while her teeth were still in his neck let her know he was hers now—without any shadow of a doubt. She would erase that demon from his existence if it killed her.

The taste of his blood, while she’d only managed to acquire a tiny bit of it without fangs of her own, was like a fix from a drug she’d absolutely lose herself in … one she never knew she’d needed. She hadn’t told him how badly she wanted more of it. Not after he’d finally come back to the present once she’d wrecked him nearly senseless, and not after he’d wrecked her back for it two more times in the shower—after they’d cracked the tile in several places. Sarah had come to the realization that he really had held back more than she initially had suspected when they were at the cabin. It pained her a little … to think that even after the way he’d thoroughly demolished her last night, that maybe he was still holding back … only because she was still human. She didn’t want to be anymore. Truthfully … she found herself wondering if she even had been all this time. If maybe that was the reason why she never really fit. Never felt like she belonged—until now.

“Our arrival,” Athan said quietly, lying next to her on his side and lightly kissing her bare shoulder.

“Hmm?” Sarah scrunched her brows and rubbed the corner of her eye with a finger.

“The page you were asking me about last night. It was about the night we docked in the harbor on the Virginia coast.”

She raised up on an elbow and rested her head on her hand. “What happened?”

“The coven sailed from Dublin. Dahlia moved us after shit got too thick, and things like war started covering our asses a lot less. It wasn’t like we weren’t powerful enough to take down any threat, and honestly … she couldn’t have cared less how many humans knew about us. But if anybody even cared about my opinion, I still think she was just fucking bored.” His fingertips trailed up her shoulder, and he brushed her long hair over it. “So much was happening here. Colonies were stacking up everywhere, immigrants were trying to start new lives in a new world, and … I think that’s what she might have been thinking, too.”

“A fresh start?” Sarah pursed her lips. Athan nodded once.

“It was such a long damn ride. When we booked passage to get here, there were over a hundred on that ship. Then, when we docked, there were less than half. The coven wasn’t that large in number then, but they still needed to feed. It didn’t take long before the captain and the crew had us figured out. We couldn’t exactly roam around on the upper deck during the daylight, and feeding on the crew wouldn’t get us here any faster. She scared them all into submission, and I got put on watch with Decclan during the day … to make sure they didn’t try anything stupid. He became the only person in this coven I think I could call a friend.”

“What about Tony? ”

“Tony was with us, but she didn’t ever establish him as part of what she calls ‘the council’. He’s a good one, yes, but not especially talkative unless you’re sitting at his bar. Decclan really didn’t give me much choice in making the best out of all the time we were forced to spend together. For what it was worth … I kind of liked him. He’s always been loyal to her, though. We landed in Jamestown in the middle of the night. Decclan and I were sleeping off our shifts below deck, and we woke up to find out that one of the crew sold us out to the residents. We didn’t know it before we’d set sail, but apparently vampires weren’t a new idea in this part of the world. They came for us, ready to burn us on that ship before we could even set foot on dry land.”

Sarah’s brows lowered and she stared at him with her mouth parted. “What did you do?”

“What did I do?” he scoffed, smirking. “I did absolutely nothing. I sat on my bunk and watched the chaos unfold. To be completely honest, I was happy that we were about to die. I was forced to kill more humans on that ship just to survive, than I ever had when we stayed everywhere else. There weren’t any livestock or shit to use as another option. I slipped into this darkness that made me wish I were dead.” His eyes dropped to the bed like he couldn’t bear to look at her as he said it. Sarah reached up and eased his face closer with a soothing stroke against the back of his head.

“But you got out. You’re here. How did you end up getting out of there?”

Athan kissed her neck, sighing into it and leaning against her. “Decclan brought Dahlia down with him, panicking as usual. She expected us all to put up a fight, and he wanted me to protect her. I wanted to watch her fucking burn. I would have held her down myself and burned with her just to make sure her last breath was a scream of pain. But Decclan begged me. He told me that he understood why I wanted to die, but that he wasn’t ready. He begged me to help him save her, and the coven. I did it for him. I did it for him, and for all the others that she never gave any choice to … even though most of them could give a shit less about humanity. Dahlia promised me amnesty for even considering what I was doing … and obviously … we won.”

She raised his chin so that he’d look at her. “Amnesty? How could she call this amnesty, Athan? You’ve been her slave.”

“I’m not dead. She considers that forgiveness enough. That was the moment she realized how much I fucking hate her. I’ve been her favorite toy ever since.”

She couldn’t explain how absolutely livid she was hearing it come out of his mouth. It filled her with a rage she’d never felt before … not in her entire life. “I’m gonna fucking kill her, Athan. I wanna be the last face she sees. I want her to know exactly what I’m taking from her. Let her know you were never hers to begin with.”

He looked at her like he was terrified. Like he’d blink and she would disappear. His hand grazed her cheek and she leaned into it. “Sarah … she’s dangerous. I told you, I’ll never let anything happen to you. Don’t seek her out. Please don’t. ”

“What the hell do you mean? You think I don’t know what kind of games she’s playing? She’s not just staging these bodies to fuck with you , Athan … she’s coming after me . Let her. She might not give a shit about humanity, but she’s underestimating me. Especially now,” Sarah said through clenched teeth as she toyed with his bottom lip. “I’m the human she doesn’t wanna fuck with.”

His answering smirk stretched into a wicked smile, and he eyed her mouth before parting it with his tongue. She pressed herself against him, kissing him back. “You’re the human I wanna fuck with,” he whispered into her mouth as he laid her back and eased over her. Her arms found their way around his neck and her legs instinctively raised on either side of him.

“You’re supposed to be arresting me, detective.” She grinned, spreading her thighs wider.

Athan huffed a laugh and hissed through his teeth. “Oh, that’s right. Back in Boston … it’s a workday.”

“You bet your ancient ass,” Sarah smiled, wrapping herself around him.

Brent wiped at his nose as he sat in his car, keeping an eye out for the detective in the parking lot. The precinct seemed very busy this morning. Several people had been brought in sporting handcuffs, just in the time it had taken him to finish spreading cream cheese over his bagel. He couldn’t bring himself to try to eat breakfast at that hospital. Had it not been for his promise to his mother to eat this morning, he wouldn’t even be bothering now. Leaving her today was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. The last thing he wanted to do … was look emotional while he came to Sarah’s defense today. Brent checked the rear-view mirror, his red-rimmed eyes not as bad as he’d suspected, and he bit into his breakfast.

A black Charger pulled into the spot next to him. Brent thought nothing of it as he chewed vigorously on his food. That was, until Detective Kane appeared from behind the tinted window and jerked his head in greeting as he slammed the door shut. He paused his eating and watched him circle around the hood of his car, opening the other side and hauling Sarah out by her upper arm—to which she grinned hungrily at the detective—a look she’d never given Brent once, the entire time they’d been together. She was cuffed, and he knew they were supposed to be putting on a show, but it couldn’t have been more obvious that the two of them were very much … together . Brent swallowed, wiping his mouth and stuffing the bagel back into the brown paper bag before grabbing his briefcase, and stepping out of his car .

“Don’t lock it yet,” Sarah called, letting Kane lead her toward him. She gave the detective an assuring nod, and he reached into a pocket inside her leather jacket, pulling a bag of blood out of it and discreetly handing it to him. Brent warily took it and met eyes with her. “Whoever you give that to…keep it quiet. I hope it brings some light to your life, Brent.”

What he wouldn’t give to string this thing up and infuse it to the reaper that was claiming his mother’s life. “Loud and clear,” was Sarah’s response on the phone that day. She had understood him and was giving him the choice to save one of them. Brent started having trouble keeping his feelings in check. “Thank you, Sarah.”

She only nodded, half-smiling. He opened his passenger side door and opened his case, tucking the bag into it and snapping it shut. In all honesty, he wouldn’t have needed the briefcase anyway. He locked it inside his car. “We doin’ this?” Sarah smiled, her hair almost a dark shade of blue as it blew in the icy wind and caught the morning sun. The side of her neck was bruised … as was the detective’s. He tried not to stare. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.” Her hazel eyes raised in amusement as they followed his own.

“You don’t really leave much to the imagination.” Brent scoffed, stepping forward as they started making their way toward the building. For some reason, he found it hard not to smirk, especially when Detective Kane chuckled through his nose in agreement. They walked slowly, the three of them catching stares from several of Kane’s colleagues as they crossed the front of the building. Brent noticed the way a few of them eyed the detective and fell into step beside them. “I half expected them to try to take you in themselves, Kane. They’re all looking at you like they’re hungry for a raise.”

Kane’s smirk grew wider, and Sarah snorted. “There might be a flashy story on the news, but they all know the story the world would hear next if they made one move towards her.” He stared forward and his free hand rested on the small of Sarah’s back, the other firmly holding her shoulder.

“What about Northwood?” Brent added as they started down the walkway towards the front doors.

“She’ll be here soon.” The detective hadn’t looked at him once throughout his stride. He was still very much the hard, quiet asshole Brent had argued with before … but something was clearly different about him. He couldn’t deny that there was something different about his ex, as well. They entered the building and not a single uniform spoke to them, giving them a wide berth as they stepped into the elevator. When the doors closed, Brent looked over at Sarah.

“You alright?”

She seemed more pale than usual, and an unfamiliar shadowing dusted over her eyes when she looked back at him. “A little nervous, but yeah … I’m fine. ”

“They really don’t have anything to hold you with, Sarah. Don’t be nervous. There’s a real good chance we can have you both out of here without charges by lunch.”

“Oh, I’m not nervous about that part. I’m nervous about catching more charges.” Sarah’s smile was like something out of a horror movie. It unsettled him. It was like speaking to a stranger—one you almost couldn’t convince him he’d spent the last two years with. Even her voice was somehow different.

“Down, kitty …” Kane smiled, not looking at either of them. The elevator stopped and they all straightened, preparing themselves. “Showtime.”

Brent tugged at his suit and adjusted his tie. Sarah stiffened at Kane’s side, and he saw them exchange looks. He’d seen it before … when Sarah was in the hospital. This time, he couldn’t help but notice that it didn’t bother him as much. Actually, it didn’t bother him at all. The doors slowly opened, and every head turned in their direction as Brent followed them out of the elevator.

He was more exhausted than he had been in a while. Coffee hadn’t been enough to prepare him for whatever was about to happen. Foley’s forehead beaded with sweat as he swiveled in his chair, glancing at the gathering agents that talked amongst themselves at Kane and Northwood’s spot. One, in particular, had caught his attention. Foster hadn’t heeded a word he’d said about making herself too comfortable. Her legs were crossed along the top of Kane’s desk, and all her personal shit was scattered beyond where her feet rested, taking up the space where Rhaena Northwood, no doubt, would have had piles of paperwork littered with whatever takeout she’d scrounged up. They were about to be a lot busier … and a lot less cheerful. He caught the movement from the corner of his eye as the rest of his precinct directed their attention towards the elevator. Foley nearly leapt from his chair.

Detective Kane had St. James by the arm, a firm expression on his face. He didn’t once acknowledge the rest of his comrades as he quietly made his way towards the captain’s office, Brent Stratford following confidently behind them. “Morning, Cap.” Kane nodded toward him. Foley dipped his chin and tried earnestly to keep the smile from his face.

“Detective,” Foley replied, “made an arrest? ” His eyes flickered toward the Feds, who had started scrambling … all but Foster, who narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her as she leaned back in Kane’s chair.

“Actually, I’d like to file a complaint about him.” St. James smirked. “Has he always been known to manhandle his suspects?” Foley glanced at Kane, who was eagerly trying to hide his amusement .

“He hurt you?” Foley asked, the corner of his mouth slightly curling upward.

“Oh, yes. Several times.” Their vic-turned-fugitive had absolutely no shame when she grinned. Stratford huffed through his nose at her side.

“If that’s true, I’m sure the detective had his reasons, Miss St. James.” He returned his attention to Kane, who nodded.

“She was a bit hostile .” Kane didn’t acknowledge the proud look she’d given him before rolling her eyes and shaking her head. The elevator dinged from behind them. Northwood and Jenkins stepped through the doors, ignoring them altogether as Rhaena stormed toward her desk, stopping behind it and staring down Agent Foster with pure malice.

“Get … your fucking feet … off my desk.”

Kane snorted, and Foley found it hard not to do the same as Foster made no moves to comply and simply smiled at Northwood.

“Well … what an interesting turn of events,” Foster crooned, shaking one ankle over the other. “How was your vacation, detective?”

“About to be a bit more divine, if you don’t take those ten-dollar heels down and prance your flighty ass down the hall.”

St. James cackled, Stratford nudging her while he covered his mouth respectfully.

“Calm down, detective. My feet aren’t on your desk. It’d be an awful shame to scuff the ply board,” Foster bit back, her fellow agents crowding around her. She snapped her head towards Kane and lowered her legs before raising from his chair. “Turning yourselves in? How noble of you.”

Stratford stepped in front of St. James, interrupting her hard stare. “Actually … Detective Kane is the arresting officer. He’s brought her in for questioning.”

“Ah … the boyfriend. And why, exactly, am I speaking with you? Not that I mind …” She raked her eyes over every inch of the young lawyer. “You’re a lot more attractive in person.”

Stratford didn’t miss a beat, dismissing her compliment. “I’m her representation.”

Foster clicked her tongue. “Aww … isn’t that sweet of you.” The precinct was dead silent as she marched around Northwood and went straight for St. James. “Let’s not waste any time then.” Her hand reached toward Sarah, and Foley swore a predatory growl rumbled in Kane’s throat as he reached around his suspect’s back and pulled her away. Foster stilled, slowly turning her face towards him and smiling. “Interesting,” she whispered.

“She’s mine ,” Kane snarled, nearly baring his teeth. “You can tell me where you want me to take her, but you won’t be touching her.” Stratford’s eyes popped, while St. James only seemed to be reveling in the notion, caressing his wrist behind her back from her restraints. Foley didn’t fail to notice it.

“Yours … I see. Wouldn’t want to take that arrest off your quota.” Foster flashed her eyes to Foley, never losing her smile. “You can take her to interrogation room three, detective. I promise to keep my hands to my self.” She raised her palms and mockingly took a step back. Kane started moving toward the hall, Stratford following behind St. James as she and Foster exchanged combative looks. Northwood winked at Sarah when she passed and Foster scoffed, waving a finger toward her band of uniforms. “Pack our shit and move it to the other room.”

Room three was the smallest interrogation space in the precinct. Foley decided that the agent must have picked it to make St. James uncomfortable. Sometimes, the more confined the suspect felt, the easier it was to make them sweat. He had to give it to the young girl … if she was fazed by it, she sure as hell wasn’t letting it show. Kane sat her down, releasing her from the cuffs, and pulled a chair for Stratford to join her while Foster took her place across from them. The red light from the camera blinked in the corner. Foley stepped into the observation room, sinking his hands into his pockets, and watching them through the two-way mirror.

“Detective, as nice as you are to look at, this room is small enough without you brooding in the corner. You can watch from the other room.”

Foley’s eyebrows raised as St. James gave the agent a look that promised her a slow, painful death. “I’m not leav—” Kane started.

“I can handle her,” St. James cut him off, her eyes never leaving Foster’s. “She’s just like every other overly confident bitch I’ve ever met. I’ll be just fine.”

Kane’s jaw tightened, but he turned to close the door as he walked out, flashing a warning look at Agent Foster before clicking it shut. He stepped into the observation room, closing that door as well and taking a place beside the captain. “You could make it a little more obvious, Kane. I’m not sure your invitation for trouble was well-received,” Foley smirked, rolling his eyes.

Kane crossed his arms and watched her through the window, intently. “Amazing, isn’t she?” His voice practically purred with adoration.

“I never thought I’d see the day you, of all people, had it this bad, kid.” Foley turned his face toward him. “You trust Stratford with her?” Kane glanced at him briefly but refused to take his eyes off St. James as he slightly nodded.

“Stratford is a lot of things, Cap. But Sarah swears he’s one of the best lawyers in Boston. He seems pretty damn smart … at least in that sense.”

“Hmm …” Foley tightened his mouth as they both peered through the glass. “Let’s see how he does.”

Every instinct he had screamed at him to shatter this glass and tear his mate out of that room. The hungry look that agent kept giving Sarah had every hair on him standing at attention. Athan tried to keep his composure next to his captain, who had already made it clear enough that he had suspicions about what—not who—he was. He and Sarah were no longer trying to hide what they were to each other, as it seemed pretty pointless at this juncture. He was no longer on her case and had outright told Foley that he was in love with her. Pretending to be anything but, would leave room for anyone watching to believe that he wouldn’t rip the head right off their body for even looking at her the wrong way.

“So, Miss St. James … where exactly did you run off to this past week?” Foster asked, crossing her legs and resting her hands in her lap.

“Don’t answer that,” Brent ordered, leaning forward. “My client is here today to contest the charges that are wrongfully slandering her name. As I’m sure you already know, she’s the only survivor in the case you’ve been tasked with resuming.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Then you should also be aware of the fact that she has an alibi for both the murders you’re accusing her of committing. I also fail to see any evidence, other than the likeness of her appearance, that suggests she had anything to do with them.”

Foley hummed beside him, surprised by Brent’s forwardness toward the agent. Athan would be lying if he said he didn’t agree with him. “Alright, Stratford.” Foley smirked. Athan’s arms tightened, and he continued to keep his eyes on Sarah, who occasionally glanced at the window.

Can you hear me?

He thought it’d be a long shot, but Sarah’s eyes flickered to the mirror, and she nodded once. Good. She’d be able to communicate, even if she couldn’t see him. Foster tightened her mouth but shrugged and leaned off the back of the chair.

“I’ll agree with that, Mr. Stratford. Let’s discuss the evidence .” She slapped down a file Athan hadn’t seen her carrying, and opened it up, spreading crime scene photos from both murders—and Sarah’s attack. Although he’d seen them dozens of times, Sarah’s photos hit him like a truck. He had mangled her neck so badly. He saw her throat bob when she looked at it. Something inside him broke. “One of these things is not like … the others.” Foster smirked, sliding the photos toward them. “Does your client care to point out the obvious?”

She was baiting her. A tactic that even seasoned cops rarely got right. Athan’s blood began to thicken.

Don’t give her an inch. Pretend it doesn’t bother you … even if it does.

Brent nodded toward Sarah, giving her a chance to defend herself. Sarah slid the most recent victim’s photo towards her and narrowed her eyes at it. “What is this?” Sarah asked, pointing to the bird in the girl’s mouth.

“That …” Foster started, taking a closer shot out of the file and sliding it over, “… is a small bird. A starling, to be exact. Pretty common in North America. Pretty uncommon , in someone’s mouth.”

“And what’s that got to do with me, exactly?” Sarah leaned back, dropping the photo to the table .

“Well, nothing … however, after going through both your apartment … and Detective Kane’s,” Foster said as she glanced at the window, “I did find it interesting that you both have a fondness for a certain animal. He has one as a pet, doesn’t he?” She smiled at Sarah, and Athan could feel the captain’s eyes on him while he watched on. “Not to mention.” She pulled another photo out, placing it on the table. “There was a pretty clear message on the concrete with his name on it.”

“It’s not unusual for a serial murderer to do their homework, Agent Foster. That doesn’t give you enough reasonable doubt to charge my client with murder,” Brent’s voice had completely changed, and so had his mannerisms. He reached over and scooted the photos away from Sarah. “What it does do, is give my client every reason to press charges for slander, wrongful accusation, and infringement of her rights. If all you have is convenient facts that don’t actually fit together to place her as anything but a target for this psycho, then you’ve not only painted her as something she’s not, but also put her in danger. As well as, toyed with her very freedom on nothing but a gut feeling.” He propped his elbows on the table and folded his arms. “Gut feelings don’t hold up in a court of law. Detective Kane has been working this case with his partner, and whoever did do this, knows that. How many cases have we seen where the killer taunts the police? You’ve got nothing.”

“Don’t be too sure about that.” Foster eyed Sarah. “You've been the subject of a much bigger picture for a long time, Miss St. James. While we may not have any direct evidence that ties you to these bodies, we do have enough to claim your involvement. There’s one other detail you’re forgetting about how these victims differ from each other.” Foster no longer held her mocking smile. Instead, her face turned grave. “One of them still has a pulse.”

“So, I’m guilty for living through something horrible? That makes me less a victim than these other two girls, simply because I’m alive? You still don’t even know who did this to me!” Sarah straightened, becoming more unhinged by the minute and Athan bristled.

Easy, love. Stay firm … but easy.

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea … and I think you do too.” Foster kept her ground.

“That’s enough. If you don’t have anything other than what you’ve failed to legally charge her with, then we’re done here. Sarah, don’t say another word.” Brent stood, urging Sarah up from her chair.

“I know why you came to Boston, St. James. I know what it is that you want most, and I’m not lying when I say I have the answers you’re looking for. They come at a price. Your involvement in this case is not a coincidence.”

Sarah was bent over, half-standing and paused. “Sarah, don’t. Whatever it is you think she has is bullshit. Nobody has those answers, and anybody that does didn’t get them legally. Don’t fall for that shit.” Brent tugged on Sarah’s arm. Athan startled as Rhaena and Jenkins stepped into the observation room .

“On the contrary. He’s telling the truth, honey … but I don’t need to get what you seek legally, if I’m part of the team that got those answers in the first place.” Athan felt the blood drain from his face as Sarah slowly lowered herself back into the chair.

Athan …

“What is she talking about, Kane?” Rhaena asked, wide-eyed. All it took was the look Sarah gave through that window, and the call of his name through their bond and he bolted from the room, jerking the door open and stepping inside.

“You’re done, Foster.” It was a struggle to keep his eyes from darkening with the rage that he was starting to feel. Nearly impossible to keep his canines from showing as he sensed how hard Sarah’s heart was pounding. Brent stepped aside and Athan placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Lie to me, detective. Tell me you don’t know exactly what the Black Bird Tavern really is.” Foster’s palms slapped against the table. “Go ahead. I’m dying to hear you explain it. Tell me how her body was found right outside that place, why there’s two more bodies that look exactly like her, and why one of them left a calling card for you . Lie to me!” Sarah started to get up, leaning on him while he ignored Foster and tried to lead her out the door. She didn’t back down. “Lie to me and say that it’s just a coincidence that a kid went missing that looks just like you, and his last known location was at the same bar! I know more than you think I do. One of you can help me, or I can out both you, and your partner! What’s it gonna be, detective?”

Athan slowly turned on his heel, glancing at the window where he could practically hear Rhaena cursing on the other side in panic. He sneered at Foster, who didn’t so much as blink. Sarah gripped his arm. “Say another word, Agent Foster … and you’ll have to charge me. Because if you threaten either of them again … I’ll rip your fucking jaw off .”

“Give me what I want, and I won’t charge you for that alone. I’m not the bad guy here, Sarah. You show me yours; I’ll show you mine. It’s a win-win for you anyway. You’ll get what you’ve always wanted … and we put the real bad guys behind bars.”

“Just a minute ago, you were trying to claim she was the bad guy,” Brent fired, nodding towards Sarah.

“There’s a common denominator in every case,” Foster replied, turning her attention back to Sarah. “In this case … you’re not just the common denominator. You’re the key .”

“Prove it, then. If you’re not lying about what you think you know … then give me a reason to believe you.” Sarah tightened her grip on his arm and Athan rested a hand over hers.

Foster smirked, straightening herself. “Linden’s Coffeehouse. When you were in Seattle, after your mother died, you went there almost every morning. You always wore the same brown sweater. Always ordered a red-eye, with room for cream and sugar, but you never put any in it. I always found it strange. At night, you curled up on the same spot on the couch with a blanket that’s seen better days. You brought it with you, I found out … I saw it in your apartment the day that we tossed it. Your hi gh school boyfriend tried to get you to stay when you finally decided to leave Seattle and come here, and that argument got so uncomfortable that you bloodied that poor kid’s nose. Should I continue?”

Sarah slacked and her eyes widened in realization. “It was you …”

Foster nodded. “Me, and a couple of others. Until you left and we decided to wait and see what you’d do. We hoped that you’d let it go, take a new job … shut your trap, and be happy with what we gave you of your mother’s ashes. I even went so far as to give you what I could of her records. I had to go out of my way just to get you a death certificate for her that wouldn’t disclose what actually happened.”

“I never received that.”

“Nope. It got me in trouble and was sealed with the rest of her shit. I’ve been on your side for a long time, Sarah St. James. Now you’ve meddled in more shit and got yourself hurt. What a surprise to find out I had to come all the way to Boston, just to cover your ass again.”

“Sarah …” Athan said softly, caressing her back. Brent was frozen in shock.

“If I talk to you, the cameras will be shut off,” Sarah started.

“Sarah—” Brent warned.

“I’ll have the sound shut off on both ends. Cameras off. You have my word,” Foster promised.

Sarah turned toward him, a wary look in her eyes. She was gonna do it whether he wanted her to or not. Sacrificing herself for their sakes—as if he fucking deserved it.

Please don’t. We can take care of ourselves. Don’t do this. I can help you figure out your mom’s case, Sarah.

She smiled softly and placed her palm against his chest.

I’ve got this, babe. Just trust me, alright?

It took every bit of his will, but he hesitantly nodded, pulling her into a tight hug and not giving a shit who saw it. He glared at Foster, and then turned toward Brent. “Let’s go, Stratford.”