Black Bird (Nevermore Duet #1)

CHAPTER 38

CASE CLOSED

Rhaena wiped drops of coffee from the kitchen counter and turned her head, gaping at Brandon Jenkins as he dropped a spoonful of butter into his mug and stirred it around. Her eyes went wide, and she stared at him while he blatantly ignored her look of utter disgust.

“You know, Brandon … I’ve witnessed something much worse being stirred into coffee … but this? I really feel like I should draw a line here.”

He chuckled. “You might wanna wait to draw lines like that until you’ve tried it.”

“That … is fucking grotesque. Who in the hell—”

“Keto,” a hoarse voice spoke from the kitchen doorway, causing them both to turn around. “Fad diets. That’s what started that hipster shit.” Foley smirked, limping towards them.

“Sir, I don’t think you should be walking around like that. You lost a lot of blood.” Rhaena reached out for him, pulling a chair for him to sit.

“Jenkins, I didn’t think you participated in crap like that.” He ignored Rhaena’s concern and eased down into the chair. She sat a fresh mug down in front of him.

“It’s hard keeping up with this level of flawless physique, sir.”

Foley winced when he laughed, tugging Rhaena’s robe around him. His large frame in the soft black material was truly comical, but it was all she’d had to offer him. Neither she, nor Jenkins had gotten any sleep. They stood watch over their captain all night after they’d rigged the blood bag, and stitched him up, and for some reason … Rhaena was wide awake and jittery. Jenkins relaxed himself against the corner of the counter, crossing one ankle over another as he sipped his disgusting beverage, and she pulled out a chair to sit next to Foley.

“How are you feeling, sir?” she asked, winding both hands around her mug. He stared down at his coffee, circling the rim of his mug with a finger and slowly nodding his head.

“I’m fine. I, uh … heal faster than—well, you already know that don’t you?”

Rhaena smiled, nodding her head. “Cap, we need to talk about that.”

“We do.”

“I should have told you the day you were here. I just didn’t know how, and I was in shock.”

“Told me what?” His eyes locked onto hers and Jenkins shifted at the counter .

“He bit you, didn’t he?” Rhaena asked softly, her voice heavy with sympathy. “When you fought him off … he bit you and you turned.”

Foley grew quiet for a long moment and swallowed. “I didn’t realize it at first. I felt pain, but … it all happened so fast, and my adrenaline was—Lindsey was gone. I saw red. Later that month when it happened for the first time, I almost didn’t believe this was real. She’d barely been in the ground a week, and I was on leave. I can’t even really remember where I went or what I did the first time. I woke up naked in some abandoned part of the slums.” His hand shook as he raised his mug and sipped from it. “As time went by, I started realizing that certain things triggered the change, and that full moons weren’t the only time Boston wasn’t exactly safe from someone like me. When there’s a decent amount of physical pain, or if I’m overly emotional? Mostly angry … really angry.”

“So that’s what sparked your transition at Stratford’s …” Jenkins added. The captain nodded.

“I don’t know where this will leave us, Malcolm …” Rhaena started, pressing her lips together, terrified of his reaction. “But … the man who attacked you. The man who made you different? The one that killed your partner—it’s—it was my uncle.” Surprisingly, he had very little reaction. He didn’t even look up from his mug. She felt compelled to continue, feeling it was only fair … at least until he showed some kind of sign that he was hearing her. “His name was Elston Warner. He raised me after my parents died. He was my mom’s only brother. I didn’t have any other family to take me in, and he didn’t want someone with our … family gifts … in foster care. I’d never known him to be anything other than kind … gentle.” Rhaena shook her head. “He was always so tender and affectionate. Taught me what he could about learning to control myself. I had no idea that he could turn from anything other than a full moon. I’d only ever seen him change when I did. He wasn’t a monster, sir. If he was, I sure as hell never knew it. When you told me that the wolf that had killed Trainor was hit by a truck … I knew. I knew it was him.”

Foley finally raised his eyes to her, and instead of anger, or disbelief … there was understanding there. “So, that’s why I feel so protective of you … you’re his blood.”

“Yes …” Rhaena breathed. “I’m so sorry that this happened to you. I wish I could understand it or tell you why. All I can offer you is my help in figuring it out. Sir, I’ve been a lone wolf for a really long time. You’re not alone. I’m willing to do whatever I can to help you. I owe you that much.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Gloves. If what you say is true, you were just a kid. A kid trying to find her own way.” He pointed a long finger at her. “And you did. You became one of the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of working beside. Someone else’s actions don’t fall on you just because they’re not alive to own up to them.”

Rhaena took a nervous sip from her coffee and blew out a heavy breath. “I can’t believe you’ve been right here all this time, and I never figured you out. ”

Foley snorted, “Yeah, well … I only just figured out the same thing about you. So that makes two of us. I can’t thank you both enough for your help. I’m sorry about breaking into your place.”

“Stop, no … it’s really not the strangest thing I’ve come home to. I live next door to a vamp.”

Foley choked on his coffee. “Kane … have you heard from him? What happened to Stratford? And his kid? Is his kid alive?”

“Yeah, about that—” Rhaena was about to brief him on what had happened after he took off into the woods, but a sound knock on the door startled them. Jenkins went to answer it. There were muffled voices, and he reared his head back to look at her.

“Foster.” He jerked his head in permission to let her in and Rhaena exchanged looks with Foley, who nodded. Foster shouldered her way in with several large files. She took one look at the captain, and the tight robe he wore, and grinned as she shook her head.

“Good. You’ll have help, Northwood,” she said, dropping the files to the kitchen table. “I took the liberty of bringing over all the shit you guys thought you were gonna leave me with. How fresh is that coffee? We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

Wren sat down her third cup of chocolate pudding, the plastic spoon hanging from her swollen mouth as she pried open another. She’d barely touched the rest of the breakfast they’d sent up, and twice now, she’d snagged the line of her IV on the corner of the tray, cursing under her breath at the plastic tube. She took the spoon from her mouth and licked the pudding off the foil before tossing it onto the tray. Commotion sounded from outside her door, and she leaned forward, nervousness settling in her stomach as she eyed the open doorway. She heard a nurse mention something about visiting hours, and then a couple of familiar voices, and her heart skipped. She couldn’t stop the oncoming tears as Sarah barged in.

“Wren!” Sarah cried, rushing to her bedside. She slid away the cart, and threw her arms open, crying softly as Sarah wrapped her in a tight hug. “Holy shit … holy shit …” she whispered against Wren’s cheek. When they finally pulled apart, Wren glanced over Sarah’s shoulder to see Athan standing—with a bloody white t-shirt—against the door. He smirked at her, pocketing his hands and inching forward. “Jesus … your eye.” Sarah pointed out, inspecting every inch of her face. “Dammit, I should have never let you leave that apartment.”

“Stop. It’s not your fault. Besides,” Wren waved a hand around the room, “I’ve got heated blankets and room service at this joint. And …” She reached for her pudding. “All the damn pudding I can eat.”

Athan stood at the foot of the bed. “Are you alright? ”

“Well … my fucking parents refuse to stay home, so there’s that. I could use a very expensive blowout for Christmas. I’ve got a concussion, and one good eye … but Conrad got his head blown off.” She gave a tight shrug, spooning pudding into her mouth. “I’d say I’m more than alright in that aspect of things.”

“I’m so sorry, Wren. I—I heard about Brent … I’m—” Sarah paused, shaking her head. Wren lowered the pudding cup to her lap, unable to keep more tears from coming.

“He hasn’t opened his eyes since he came out of surgery. At least, that’s what they tell me. They won’t let me see him.” Wren sniffled, wiping beneath her swollen eye. “He didn’t even hesitate, Sarah. As soon as Conrad pointed that gun at me, he—” She shook her head, her face crumpling. Sarah leaned forward, hugging her again. “How did you hear about it? Did you talk to Rhaena?”

“I called her on the way over,” Athan answered. “Cap was okay, too. He ended up at her place. I have to say, I wasn’t expecting that part.”

“What happened to you?” Wren asked, pointing her spoon toward him. “Did you—was it Dahlia?” She leaned back, looking at Sarah … this time noticing something oddly different about her. Her eyes were different … her face more defined. Her hair even seemed glossier, and her movements a bit more fluid. “Oh, my God … oh my—”

Sarah stared at her as if she were afraid Wren would sound off some kind of alarm or break into a run. “There’s a lot I need to talk to you about.” Wren flashed her good eye to Athan again, and he turned to close the door.

“Did you do this? What happened with Dahlia?” Wren tossed her pudding cup onto the cart and sat up straighter. Athan stepped up behind Sarah who situated herself on the side of the bed.

“Dahlia’s done. Well done , if I’m being frank.” Sarah’s mouth turned up in the corner, and Athan snorted. “We sort of … kidnapped Nick Specter and forced him to help bleed me dry at EverLife. Athan saved my life. The only way I could live through it was for him to turn me. I’m okay. I promise.”

Wren’s eye narrowed. “Bleed you dry? What the fuck for? What did you do, Sarah?”

“I used my blood to turn the coven against her. It worked. The coven is free. We put the bitch down. Fried her sunny-side-up this morning on the rooftop of the club.”

“Why would you risk that? Tell me you didn’t put yourself through this for me.” Wren’s voice shook as she took in her best friend’s strange new face. She looked the same, but—different. She was beautiful before, but now … she was fucking flawless. Otherworldly. It gave Wren the same feeling of amazement anyone would have when they looked at Athan Kane. Just being around them was captivating.

“I thought she had you. Regardless if she did or didn’t … this would have had to happen anyway, Wren. Neither one of those bastards would have ever stopped coming for me. I wasn’t gonna let one more person lose their life for my sake. She wanted my blood so she could live li ke Athan lives. The coven won’t come after me for it. They have it. None of us will ever have to look over our shoulders again. This will never happen to you again, do you understand?” Wren nodded, and Sarah reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Wren’s ear. Her lip wobbled, and she sighed deeply as she took in all the obvious injuries to her face.

“This isn’t your fault, Sarah,” Wren offered, taking her hand and squeezing it. “People just fucking suck sometimes. I guess it would upset the natural balance of things if other folks didn’t get caught up in the never-ending battle between the good, bad, and ugly. I’m alive, dude. And honestly … I fought like hell. I thought I was gonna lose it a time or two, but … I hustled, nonetheless.”

“I guess you were the one responsible for Conrad’s ear?” Athan asked, crossing his arms with a side-grin. Wren huffed a laugh.

“Guilty as charged. Although, I was going for his eye. Seemed only fair.” They laughed, but all of them grew quiet, and that stretch of silence was more uncomfortable than Wren had the stomach for.

“We should let her rest, love.” Athan rested his hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “Unless you’d feel better if one of us stayed, Red?”

Wren shook her head. “There’s gonna be too many bodies in here when my parents get in. I could use the quiet for a little bit before I have to hear them fuss and bitch over me.”

“Is there anything I can get for you before we go?” Sarah asked.

Wren eyed Athan, then. “Can you get them to let me see him, Athan? Just for a minute? I can’t stop seeing him in my mind. I thought that piece of shit had killed him. I gotta tell him I’m sorry … for everything. He stormed into that house looking for me like he’d bulldoze anybody that stood in his way. I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve anything he did … not the way I’ve always treated him.” Sarah smiled softly at her. Knowingly .

“I’ll see what I can do.” Athan winked, turning towards the door.

It was like the horror of every moment was stuck on replay. Over and over, he saw her face. Saw the tape on her mouth … the chain on her wrists. Heard every scream, and every sob. His heart felt like it would explode from his chest every time it thwacked off his ribs. Brent was sure the bastard was gonna kill her. The cold stab of evil had radiated off of his father in waves, and the loud thundering of a barrel at his gut was the only thing he remembered before it all went dark and started over again. The pain of taking that shot was nothing compared to the bitter sting of not knowing whether or not he’d failed her another time. Of not knowing what he had realized he’d felt, and never had the chance to tell her.

What if he never would?

Was this Hell ?

Was this his version of eternal damnation? His punishment for being a worthless piece of shit? Having to relive this nightmare over and over for eternity? He couldn’t weather the notion that he’d been that bad of a person. There had to be something he’d done right. Something worth saving.

The darkness ensued after another loud crack of thunder, and he could swear he heard her call out to him. He tried to answer her, knowing the next thing he’d see would be his father dragging her across the patio again. He called out one more time.

“Brent?”

The darkness lasted longer this time. His ears rang, and the blooming of a horrible headache started taking hold. There was a smell. Something dry, and way too damn clean. His nose burned. His stomach felt like he’d been hit by a bus.

A bus …

Maybe he’d imagined it all. Maybe it was all a bad dream. Or maybe … maybe Wren had finally gotten her wish and he did get hit by an actual bus. His chest felt heavy, but he was breathing. His head was foggy, but … no replay …

“Brent …”

He tried to open his eyes, but only managed to flutter his eyelids a little. He couldn’t be imagining it. He forced his voice to work, and it sounded like gravel … but it sounded …

“Wren …” Brent ground out, hoarsely.

“Yeah … yeah, it’s me.”

He tried to move, but quickly regretted it. He groaned in pain, but it was enough to send his eyelids flying open. He blinked rapidly, and every quick rise and fall of his chest caused overwhelming pain in his belly. His vision was blurry, but when he was finally able to focus on the hazy figure sitting at his right, he realized … somehow … he’d survived. He focused on a pale face with a huge swollen eye, and a red rat’s nest of a bun on top of her head. Her breath caught, and she pressed her fingertips to her busted lips.

“Not your best look …” he whispered, wetting his lips. She scoffed, and that one open eye filled with tears. “Jesus … I didn’t think you’d take it so personal.”

“I thought he’d killed you.” Wren sniffled, her fingers lingering on her mouth.

“Disappointed?” Brent smiled, weakly.

“I mean … can’t you just do one damn thing right?” She snorted. He tried not to laugh. It hurt. Everything hurt. He groaned again, wincing, and giving a pitiful attempt to adjust himself. Wren dropped her hand to stop him, and it unintentionally rested on his. They both glanced at the contact, and then back at each other. Neither one said anything. She finally curled her fingers around his and he squeezed, exhaling slowly and clenching his jaw.

“I’m sorry he hurt you, Wren … ”

She wiped a tear that fell quick down her cheek. “He got what he deser—”

“I don’t care.”

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. He started to understand that weird, annoying connection he’d noticed every time Sarah had been around the detective. Something in his chest lightened. Brent tugged on her hand and urged her down towards him. Though he never asked, she seemed to understand what he intended, and lowered herself to lay next to him, tucking her head just under his chin. He brought both arms around her and held her close while she cried softly. His mouth rested in her hair and his lips turned up in the corner.

“You could use one of those fancy showers.”

Wren huffed a snotty laugh.

“Get fucked, Stratford.”

He closed his eyes and grinned. “There she is.”

It was freezing in here. The apartment looked like the ghost of the girl who lived in it. Everything she owned had been strewn all over the small space. Sarah was silent as she stepped over books, miscellaneous papers, a broken microscope, and a spilled mug of long-forgotten remnants of leftover coffee that had grown solid as dried glue to the cracked ceramic lip. Athan stood in the doorway in silent rage with his hands in the pockets of his jacket. After a few minutes of swallowing down her irritation, she scooped up the old, tattered blanket on her bed and held it close to her chest.

“You don’t have to stay here,” Athan finally said, quietly. She didn’t turn around but could hear him carefully navigating through the mess to get to her. His arms came around her from behind and he perched his chin over her shoulder. “We can have it packed up, and … moved.”

Sarah closed her eyes and a slight smile crept across her mouth. “Moved?” He tightened around her and pressed a kiss to the scar on her neck.

“To my place …”

That notion swelled through her like a warm tide. An invitation. One she wouldn’t have guessed he’d offer when they first met. When he’d been the quiet, mysterious stranger that stood a safe distance away at the door to her hospital room.

“Is this you, asking me to move in?” she asked, turning her face slightly towards his. His breath was warm against her neck.

“Only if you want it, love.”

She considered that for a moment. His apartment was where she’d first kissed him. Where he’d more than shattered her heart when she found out the truth. It was where he’d taken her to wake up as a different version of herself after he’d saved her life. It was the safe space close to their friends, who were only one door over. Wren would likely move out of her apartment now that all this had happened, but she wasn’t sure if she’d be down to stay long term with Rhaena. Sarah glanced around the wrecked apartment. She’d always loved this place. It felt the most like home since leaving Seattle behind. Something about being here had always been a comfort to her. It wasn’t much, and it was cramped and small. Brent had never been comfortable here, but it was what made her feel safe.

“What if … we packed your stuff instead?” Sarah whispered. Athan stilled. After a moment he turned her around to face him. “If I asked you to stay … would you stay?” Her heart hammered at the thought of hearing him tell her the same thing that Brent often did. She braced herself for an excuse. For any reason—

“Of course, I would,” he answered, his voice low, and smooth. “You’re the only four walls I’ll ever need, Sarah. I told you that you were the only gold mine standing in that room. You’re home to me.”

Sarah bit down on her lip, staring into those two orbs of cerulean sin. The knot in her throat gave way to tears and she shoved him. “You’re such a dick.” She smiled, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “Always making me fucking cry.” He grinned, sliding a cigarette into his mouth.

“You’re right …” he agreed, lighting it. “But I didn’t hear much bitching about it last ti—” he winced, chuckling through smoke when she punched him in his upper arm. He grabbed her wrist and jerked her towards him until she found herself slamming against his chest. Sarah snatched the cigarette from his mouth and flipped it around to drag from it.

“You’d really be okay with staying here with me?” she asked, blowing a line of smoke in the opposite direction.

“Under one condition.” Athan held up a finger.

“Name it.”

He slid an arm around her back and turned them towards the opposite wall, pointing to the poster that was still leaning against it in a busted frame. “That gets fixed and finds its way back up on the wall.” Sarah smiled, passing the cigarette back to him.

“I think Poe would like it.”

“He’s very full of himself. We’ll have to put his cage somewhere he can admire it.”

Her heightened hearing caught the sound of footsteps outside the lower door just before it opened, and they continued up the steps to her apartment. Rachel Foster appeared seconds later and leaned against the open doorway. Sarah frowned.

“You’ve got balls, Foster.”

Foster looked around at her handiwork and lowered her head. “I’ll admit … it was a bit much. We were um—having a rough day. I’m sorry.”

“I was coming around to the idea of maybe liking you before I walked in here,” Sarah added, sticking close to Athan’s side. “Find what you needed? ”

“Nope.”

“Why are you here?”

Foster stuck her hands in the pockets of her long, tan coat and stepped inside. “I came to bid thee farewell. Wanted to let you know that I’ve spoken to the captain … cleared everything with my superiors. The case is closed. I’m heading back to Washington.”

Athan’s muscles tensed. “That was fast. How are you covering that?” he asked, quirking a brow.

“Same way you do. I spoke to some of your friends at the tavern. They were happy to oblige. The ashes of the missing boy are on their way to his family as we speak. His parents have agreed to keep quiet regarding his murder. The Irish beefcake offered them the deeds to the club in exchange for their silence, and they feel like justice was served. The murders that were meant to resemble Sarah, we’ve pinned on the unfortunate soul that Vintorri gunned down on the street … except for this last one. That one, we framed on Conrad Stratford, who we’ve got enough dirt on to prove he was closely working with Van Hausen. Nick Specter was an overachiever with that. As there aren’t bodies for her, or the girl Northwood burned at her cabin, I couldn’t exactly divvy up blame. I covered ballistics reports for the Stratford shooting with Foley’s service weapon, and his assistant’s confession, along with Vintorri’s statement, put that case to rest. Of course, there were some complications with that, since Gretchen’s testimony was relayed through word of mouth. But considering those mouths were protected by badges, I’d say … we’re good for now.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Sarah muttered, trying to process all the information.

“Oh, it’s far from simple, St. James. That’s the short version of several more hours … maybe weeks of work I’m gonna have to wade through to keep it solid. But … I plan to do some of that shit sitting in first class on my plane ride back to Seattle. Maybe with a few stiff drinks.”

Sarah smirked. “Thank you.”

Foster stepped forward and extended her hand. Sarah took it and they shook briefly. “It’s been fun … but I really hope not to see you in the future,” she winked. “Remember what I said. Keep your ass outta trouble … please .”

“I don’t think you’re gonna have to worry about that.” Sarah willed darkness into her eyes and Foster cocked her head to the side, glancing at Athan, who offered her a sly smile.

“Lovely …” she snorted, rolling her eyes and releasing Sarah’s hand. She turned to leave and raised two fingers up, not looking back at them as she walked out the door and started down the steps. “If you’re ever back in Seattle … don’t call me! ”

Athan took a long drag on his cigarette and knitted his brows as he stared out the door. “I never thought I’d say it … but I might like her a little. ”

“Yeah, well … if you’re getting any ideas about a threesome, she’s not my type.” Sarah scoffed. He side-eyed her as he puffed one last drag, smirking.

“Yeah, I know … you’re more into hookers …”

Smoke puffed out of his mouth when she drove her fist into his stomach, and he cackled as she went to slapping anything she could reach.

Athan clutched Sarah’s hand as they strode to his door from the elevator. He was still a little caught off guard by Sarah’s request. Not one part of him questioned his willingness to leave this building and start over with the woman he’d been so undeserving of … but the thought of being asked to live with someone. The thought of being asked … and not forced. The thought of not having to wonder how many more days he’d have left before what little freedom he’d managed to get would be cleverly jerked from underneath him—it was a lot to take in. He’d miss very little about this place. Maybe the shower. As he fumbled with his keys and raised his hand to slide it into the door, laughter interrupted his thoughts.

Rhaena …

He’d miss her, too. It wasn’t like he was moving back to Old London, and she’d always be his partner, but the familiarity of being here in case she ever needed him stung a little. She had somebody else to see to that care now. Somebody she was deserving of. Somebody that he wished he’d pushed her to pursue a long time ago. This apartment was full of memories and bad choices. Some of those memories would be better off staying within these walls. Sarah looked to their right, smiling when more laughter trickled out from behind Rhaena’s apartment door. He pocketed his keys. Sarah rapped on the door, and Athan couldn’t help but pull her close while they waited for someone to answer it.

Rhaena opened the door with half a short glass of bourbon in her hand. Her mouth dropped open in relief and she swung the door open wider, tackling them both. “Ugh! Thank God! ” she grunted, pulling back to glare between them. “If either of you ever do that shit to me again, I’ll use you as my—”

“ Training dummy, ” Foley and Brandon both said together from the living room. Rhaena jerked her chin over her shoulder, shooting them a nasty look.

“Both of you can go screw yourselves—in your case, respectfully , sir.” Her bottom lip stretched across her chin as she turned her face back towards Athan and Sarah, and Athan whistled, shaking his head.

“Balls,” Sarah tisked, shaking hers as well.

“Come in.” Rhaena stepped aside and urged them forward with her sloshing whiskey glass. “Welcome back to the Island of Misfit Toys …” They crept in awkwardly, Athan jerking his head up at Jenkins in greeting, and then saluting his captain. Rhaena slipped past them, making herself at home on Brandon’s lap. “Fix yourself a couple fingers. We were ju st arguing over who was a more miserable shot when we got out of academy. Kane, do you remember the guy’s name that popped Sargent Dennings in the ass with a nine-millimeter?”

Athan had been pouring them both a glass and had just raised it to his mouth when he choked into his whiskey. It exploded around his nose and mouth, and he lowered it, wiping his face as he curled around the corner of the kitchen doorway. “Longson!” He laughed, pointing the glass at Jenkins, whose eyebrows leapt to his hairline.

“ Yes! That’s it!” Jenkins slapped a palm to the arm of the couch. “That son-of-a-bitch ended up moppin’ floors at Ardenside Rest Home! Rhaena and Cap didn’t believe me when I told them he offered to give the commander a blowjob for a recommendation!”

“If that were true, Commander Hale would have been making jokes about it at every Christmas party we’ve had, Jenkins. That shit didn’t happen.” Foley leaned back on the couch and took a sip from his glass. Athan led Sarah into the living room. He was about to pull two kitchen chairs, but Sarah knelt down, criss-crossing her legs on the floor and gesturing for Athan to join her. He crouched behind her, raising a knee on either side and pulling her back against him. Foley looked on, giving him a look of pride as he slightly raised his glass to him.

“Oh, it happened,” Jenkins insisted, “I don’t think Hale made jokes because he’s fucking embarrassed.”

“If anybody should be embarrassed, it’s Rhaena.” Athan smirked, taking another drink from his whiskey. Rhaena shot him an insulted glare.

“Me? Why would I be embarrassed?”

“Cause the only one that year that was a slightly better shot than Longson, was you , partner.” Foley chuckled at that, shaking his head and finding his glass to be very interesting.

Rhaena tried to jump from Brandon’s lap, but he held her down, laughing his ass off as she swung for Athan’s head. “You are so full of shit! ”

Sarah giggled, holding up a palm. “Wait, wait … you said he shot somebody in the ass, right?”

“Yeah, dead in the center of his ass cheek.” Athan laughed. “Sounded like somebody gave him a good, bare spankin ’ …” He reached down, popping Sarah on the curve of her thigh.

“Okay, I hear you … but have any of you considered maybe this poor guy meant to do it?” Sarah turned her chin over her shoulder to look at him, and everybody suddenly grew deadly quiet. She turned her head back and looked at them all, shrugging. “What if he wasn’t a shit shot…you said he got him dead-center? If he meant to do it, that would make him the best one, would it not? Which means …”

Rhaena clapped her palms together. “Which means Athan owes me an apology .”

“Or Longson, and Dennings might have some explaining to do!” Jenkins howled, Foley joining him as they leaned forward in heaving laughter .

“Come to think of it, they did spend right much time together before that happened!” Foley cackled, covering his mouth.

“Shame on you both.” Athan grinned, shaking his head and nestling into Sarah’s neck. He softly kissed over that mark and felt her shudder against him.

Stop your shit, before I have to force us to make an extremely rude exit.

He pressed himself against her and smiled against her skin.

Sorry … I was under the impression we were hurrying home to pack my stuff.

A low growl rattled in her throat.

You haven’t even told Rhaena yet.

Athan raised his face over her shoulder. “Rhaena, I’m moving out.” The laughter stopped, and all three of them looked at him with open mouths.

See? Now I’ve told her. Can we go play?

“What? What do you mean?” Rhaena drew her brows together and raised up from Brandon’s lap.

“Nice,” Sarah grunted, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Is this about Dahlia? I thought you’d—” she glanced at the captain, who looked intrigued at first, but then appeared to understand it wasn’t his business. “You’re not skipping the country?”

“Yes, it’s partly about that, and no, I’m not skipping the country.” He turned his face to meet Sarah’s eyes. “Now that none of us have that to worry about, I’m—I’m ready to make a few changes.”

Rhaena slowly lowered herself back to Brandon’s knee. “You’re moving in together?”

Foley cleared his throat. “I uh … I didn’t see that coming.”

“We only just talked about it,” Sarah offered, facing them. “I finally got around to taking a look at my damned apartment. Foster stopped in to tell us the case was closed.”

“Turns out she plays ‘bad cop’ pretty well,” Jenkins offered, cocking his head. “I’ve never seen somebody use their inner mega-bitch as a weapon in work ethic quite like that. She saved our asses.”

Athan eyed Foley. “You alright, Cap?” Foley sighed and nodded as he stared into his glass.

“Yep … obviously, you know … this can’t leave our little circle. Pretty sure my pride took more of a hit than my leg.” He shifted around, placing his glass on the side table. “Look, Kane. I hope you’re not leaving because of the suspension. In light of everything, it seems kinda stupid to keep your badge. You did what you had to do. There’s a lot being covered up for me. I’d like to give—”

“You don’t have to do that, sir.” Athan slid an arm around Sarah’s waist. “I deserved it. Boston’s in good hands for now.”

Rhaena’s shoulders sagged. “Are you giving up the badge, Kane?”

“Nah …” he smiled, pulling Sarah close. “Just enjoying a little … freedom.” Athan met Rhaena’s eyes, which softened in understanding at that last word. She slowly nodded, smirking at him .

“I imagine things are gonna be a little quieter regarding cases like the two of you get,” Sarah added. “The coven doesn’t really need blood anymore. Most of them sounded like they were clearing out of Boston altogether.”

“We’ve still got one …” Rhaena focused her attention on Sarah, who caught her meaning immediately. She tensed.

“I think we should hold off on that for a while,” Sarah sighed. “I think that rabbit hole just got a little deeper, and I’m not sure I’m ready to take the leap yet.”

“Why? Did something happen?” she asked.

Athan tightened his arm around her. “Dahlia seemed to know something about him. Whatever it was, she took it to Hell with her. It opens a whole other side of this mystery that I’m not sure any of us are ready for.”

Rhaena cursed under her breath. “What do you think will happen to the club now?” It was a question he’d asked himself ever since they’d left Sarah’s apartment.

“Truthfully, now that it’s in the hands of Patrick’s family … as sad as it is, I hope they burn it and collect some insurance money. They might feel like justice was served, but I sure as hell don’t. That place is a stain on Boston that needs to be cleaned out.”

He looked at Sarah who stared at Rhaena and Brandon’s joined hands. “Rhaena … did Wren mention anything about coming back here to stay with you?”

“I told her she’s welcome to. I wouldn’t wanna go back to that place. It’s definitely her decision, but she wasn’t really inclined to make it in the back of an ambulance.”

“I really don’t want her to be alone.” Sarah’s voice was edged with guilt. Rhaena’s eyes raised with a gentle smile.

“I uh … don’t think she will be, friend.”

“If you’re talking about Brent, I know for a fact she’d never play house at his place,” Sarah scoffed.

“Actually,” Foley raised a finger, “Stratford conveyed his plans to move. Before all this happened, he told me he was eager to leave Boston after his mother passed. Now they both have, and with the press and everything they’re about to smother him with? I feel pretty confident he’ll make good on those plans.”

The room grew quiet.

“Everything’s about to change, isn’t it?” Rhaena breathed. They all glanced around at one another, and Athan nodded. Pressing closer to his mate, he leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“It’s about damn time.”