The damn sun was blinding as I pulled up outside the pristine building of The Circle's headquarers. Glass shone from every side of the five-story octagonal building, looking like a cheap-ass imitation diamond in the middle of the city. You’d never know it had started from humble beginnings…now it just looked like a damn farce.

I shouldered open the driver’s door and bumped it closed with my hip as I took a gulp of my coffee. Hot…damn hot, burning all the way down. I swallowed and then gagged. The damn shit tasted like tar, but it fueled me like wildfire…and I needed it today more than ever.

My hand never shook as I stabbed the lock and twisted, damn coffee was working faster than I'd hoped. I shoved my keys into my pocket and stepped up to the sidewalk.

Automatic doors opened and closed constantly and, as I looked around at the constant flow of human traffic, I was amazed at how many people took refuge in this garishly laughable place for the needy.

It wasn’t just about the building. It was the people who sat behind the desks, those who deemed what was acceptable and what wasn’t. The scary fucking thing was, these people had power like you wouldn’t believe.

I sighed and stepped into the slipstream of others heading for the front doors. The brass plaque glinted overhead. Goodchild Building was the result of a lifetime of kicking ass and taking names. They even bulldozed the two small office buildings where this all started, with their chipped, peeling paint and ruptured leather seats, to make way for this monstrosity.

And, as always, I wondered what Alma would think if she saw this place now. She’d think burn the damn thing before it lays eggs.

The Circle was splashed across the front of the building, and underneath scrawled, First Response Paranormal Investigations.

By the words, you’d think they were nothing more than a bunch of magic- wielding police officers, but, even though they started out as that, now they were so much more.

I nodded at the guard and strode through the double doors. He took one look at the coffee, and then me, and motioned me over. For fuck's sake. I sidestepped and pushed my way through the throng of people to where he stood. “Identification, please.”

“Gerald, you know me, for fuck's sake.”

His brow wrinkled, perfect brown uniform crinkling as he leaned forward. “Identification, Ma’am.”

You’ve got to be kidding me? I gripped the coffee with one hand and speared my fingers into the pocket of my jeans. Coins fell free as I snagged the plastic edge and yanked.

“Jesus,” I lunged, grasping the dollar as it rolled between the army of heels and boots.

Black leather glistened from the corner of my eye as a perfect Louis Vuitton dress shoe snapped down on the dollar. I gripped my coffee and looked up, along the razor-edged seam of his pants, to the shining eyes of Redemption.

His shiny, slick-backed hair never moved as he leaned down, lifted his shoe, and snagged the dollar from the floor. “Finders keepers,” he murmured before he rolled the coin between his fingers and held it out. “Must be careful throwing away your money like that, Lorn. Never know when you might need it.”

“I wasn’t throwing it away,” I snarled, snatching the dollar from his grip and straightening.

My stomach tightened. I didn’t want to turn my head, didn’t want to see the slick black Maserati parked in the disabled parking spot outside, but, fuck it…I just had to add to the never-ending, growing shitpile of my life.

REDEMPTION filled the damn license plate. I ached…I actually fucking ached at the sight of it, before I turned to my twenty-year old Toyota with its missing front grill and one white balding tire.

“You wouldn’t like it,” he leaned in and whispered against my ear. “It’s last year's model.”

I flinched as he stood. There was something about having someone like Redemption looking down on me…something that made me want to take him off at the knees.

I turned away.

“If you’re here for the eight AM meeting, you’re about to be late.”

I glanced over my shoulder as Redemption pointed to the clock on the wall. The long hand ticked slowly, hitting eight o’clock. “Shit…shitshitshitshit.”

I shoved the ID into the guard’s face, ground my teeth as he looked from the crinkled plastic to me and then finally nodded. My steps were a blur, I shoved, barreled, and skidded as Redemption somehow beat me to the damn elevator.

I glanced back at the foyer and then at him as he stood inside the elevator with one hand stopping the door from closing. “Ready when you are, Lorn.”

I stumbled inside, spilling my damn coffee as the elevator doors closed with a shudder. The brown liquid splashed against the only half-decent black top I owned, soaking the sheer fabric of the camisole underneath.

I could feel his eyes as I gripped the fabric, shoved it into my mouth and sucked. One word…one damn word. I clenched my fist, feeling the ache in my palm.

Deep scratches marred the flesh. I’d soaked it this morning in salted water and dabbed iodine into the wounds, still it looks like I’d gone three rounds with a damn shifter. And it ached, ached more now than it had before.

I clenched my hand and then relaxed as a ping came from overhead and the doors opened. The crisp white walls hit me like a punch to the face. Everything about this level was white, as though that would somehow mask the pieces of shit that worked here.

Level three was for the executives and board, and every other bloodsucker that decided they wanted a piece of the pie…and I wasn’t talking about the vampires.

Redemption stepped close, and then swept his hand through the air. “After you.”

And for a second, I couldn’t move, couldn’t face them…not today…not any day. But then I was moving, stepping out of the elevator and heading toward the foyer with a feeling of disconnect.

“They’re waiting for you, Ms. Payne.”

I turned my head and gave Betty a weak smile. She was the only constant from our humble beginnings to this…the sixty- something-year-old was like a favorite aunt, sneaking me homemade biscuits and sandwiches with the crusts removed when I was little.

She smiled from behind the slick white marble counter and gave a nod. Steps echoed behind me, but I didn’t turn, for fear I’d catch the open doors of the elevator and run. Instead, I made for the shining white double doors, gripped the silver handles, and pushed.

Heads snapped upwards, cold eyes…all around the massive circular table stared as I entered. One half of the curved desk was empty, while four chairs of the other half were taken up by the board.

“You’re late.”

I jerked my gaze toward the sound and stared at Veronica Falls.

“That was my fault entirely,” Redemption broke in behind me.

Heat rushed, burning my cheeks, as I turned to glare at him. “This is a private meeting.”

“For the board, yes,” Redemption murmured, and pasted a fake-ass smile on his face.

“And as of last month, Redemption is now our newest board member,” Veronica cut in, pasting the same damn fake grin on her lips. “If you attended the meetings, you’d know that.”

Meetings? I tried to think of the last one I'd endured, but my memory was fuzzy, buried under a thousand demon cases, about a hundred rogue vampire attacks, and every other bottom-of-the-pile shit show they had sent me to.

“I apologize to the board for holding Ms. Payne up,” Redemption cast his apology across the room like it was the red carpet for his arrival.

Veronica’s ravenous gaze never left him as he neared and took a seat at her left. It was easy to see why Redemption had had a sudden rise in power. She gave him a smile and then motioned across the table. “Then let’s begin.”

I swore my boots were filled with lead as I stepped around the opposite side of the table. Chair legs screeched against the marble floor. Groans were punctuated by stares of distaste as I shrugged my jacket free and dumped it on the table.

“Thank you, Ms. Payne, for meeting with us today,” the Director murmured.

He never looked up from the papers in front of him, not even when he cleared his throat and began. “I’d first like to talk to you about last night, specifically the charge for which you were taken to the Downtown Metropolitan Police Headquarters by a seasoned Sergeant Cecil Jeffries.”

I bit the sides of my mouth to stop from laughing. Cecil? No wonder the guy had a mean streak. But this was no laughing matter, especially as the backstabbing sonofabitch Director Alistair Horton was just itching for a reason to kick me as far from this place as he could.

“Stealing from a crime scene,” he muttered and looked over the top of his reading glasses. “And indecently interfering with a body.”

As much as Alistair wanted to pretend to be someone else, he knew deep down he couldn’t…not with me.

I knew the conniving, self-centered mongrel for what he was—a lone wolf with a grudge. He’d come to us alone, frightened, and on the run. Alma had given him shelter, protection, clothes, and food, and let him sleep on our couch for a while. And slowly he took interest in the business. The Circle wasn’t much of a business back then, more like a hit squad for the paranormal…with my grandmother at the helm.

But she wasn’t a business woman—she was a hunter, and so, one day he convinced her that she could carry on doing what she loved doing, and she could leave the rest to him to manage.

I smiled across the table at the charges. Alma wasn’t terribly smart, but she was scrappy as hell, and, under the guise of reading the contract, had added a few clauses of her own.

And the number one clause was that while ever the business took even one dollar from a client—I had a job for as long as I wanted.

Because, to her, The Circle was never about making money—it was about purpose…for her, and for me.

“Now, Veronica has graciously spoken to this…Inspector Banks, who heads Sergeant Jeffries' squad, and he’s expressed a willingness to forgo the charges…under the agreement that you perform additional duties to his investigations as restitution.”

My fingers curled, knuckles cracked.

“And, seeing as the other disciplinary notices I have in my possession are,” he lifted a thick stack of papers, “quite extensive, I have no other course than to increase your workload. From now on, you’ll be adding the policing duties into your existing schedule.” Stars sparkled in his soulless eyes. “And now, as for the other infringements…I’m sorry, but they can only result in your request for bronze- tiered assignments to be denied.”

He leaned forward on thick-muscled forearms. “So, until these types of issues stop, you’ll be staying in the red.”

Staying in the red? Staying in the fucking red…more demons…rogue vampires…

“Now, I could go on with the list of infringements I have here, but I fear we’d be here all day, and you have assigned jobs waiting for you.”

“That’s utter bullshit.”

The words slipped from my lips. I'd promised myself I’d keep my mouth shut, promised myself I’d change my ways. And yet, here I was…not changing. I shoved against the table. “If you think this…fucking charade of yours is going to break me, then you don’t really know me at all, do you, Alistair?”

His top lip curled, “It’s Director Horton…”

I gripped the table edge, and rose. “Bring it on, all the shit jobs…all the shit money, do your fucking worst. You were a pathetic, sniveling piece of shit when I first met you, so why start changing now?”

“H…how dare you!” he spluttered as I stood, shoved the chair with the backs of my legs, grabbed my jacket, and turned to snatch my coffee.

All this way…to be fucking ridiculed and demeaned. I'd thought….just for fucking once…I'd thought it might’ve been different.

I shoved out my arm, flipped the bird, and held it there as I strode from the room. Tears stung my eyes, blurring Redemption’s concerned gaze as I strode past.

Fuck them…fuck them all.

I shoved through the door and out into the foyer. The door slammed shut with a bang behind me. I couldn’t see anything, thick globs of shit ran from my eyes. I sniffed and swiped the back of my hand across my face.

Firm hands grabbed me, and a soft, motherly voice filled my ears as Betty pulled me against her. “Come on, now. Come over here.”

I let her lead me, like a frightened kid, to the side and out of view.

“You don’t deserve any of that…not a goddamn minute of it. You’re a good girl, Lorn. You hear me? You’re a good girl, too damn good for them. I promised your Gran I’d look out for you, and I’m trying my best, believe me. But they spring this kind of shit on me at the last minute, leaving me no way to warn you. Goddamn them…goddamn them.”

I sniffed and closed my eyes. “It’s okay, really. I’m just tired…just so fucking tired.” My body ached…my soul ached.

God, she smelled good, like cookies and love and damn sunshine, and, all of a sudden, it was just too much. An ache settled deep in my chest. I wanted out of this place with its cold glass and its marble. I just wanted to go home—home to mess, home to the smell of pot first thing in the morning, and the smell of ylang ylang in the evening. Home to the comfort of love.

I opened my eyes and reached up, touching the soft flesh of her arm. God, I missed being hugged. “Thank you, it’s okay. I’m okay. I just had a moment.”

Pain echoed within her amber eyes as I lifted my head. “Alma is always watching,” she whispered, and scanned the room. “Always.”

I forced a smile and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”

Betty and Alma had been thick as thieves for as long as I could remember, so it made perfect sense they’d be the same now. “I want to see her.” I lifted my head. “Do you know where she is?”

“She’s on the road, honey. Some place in Nebraska. Got herself a new fella…”

I nodded. Nebraska sounded about right. “Do you know when she’s coming back?”

She dropped her hands and leaned backwards. “Let me reach out to her and I’ll see what I can do.”

I swallowed, gave her a nod, and then took a step. “Tell her…tell her I miss her.”

“I will, and she misses you. Can’t stop gushing about you, that woman. Has to know every damn detail of your life. I tell her to give you a little space, but…” she brushed the hair back at my temple, “but you are her life. Now, you wipe those eyes, straighten that spine, and go give those sonsofbitches in there what for.”

The fire in her words was all the encouragement I needed. “Thank you, for everything.”

“Now, I’ve got one mean-ass pot roast planned for dinner tonight, and you know this waistline is expanding every day. So I’ll pop on over later tonight and put some in your fridge, if that’s okay?”

“Sounds delicious,” my stomach tightened at the thought. “You know I love your pot roast.”

She patted my arm, gave the door a quick glance, and then stepped away, tapping her finger to the side of her nose. “Remember…Alma’s the word.”

I smiled, nodded, and then took a step toward the office door. We’d kept this relationship a secret for years now. She spied on Horton and the others, brought me food, and kept an eye on me. And I…I tried to keep my cool.

So far, I wasn’t holding up our end of the bargain. But I could. I could change, be better, grow some thicker skin. I headed for the elevators and then stabbed the button as Betty took up her position behind the marble counter. I could do better.

The ping wrenched me from the thought. Stainless steel shone as the doors opened, and I stepped inside, listening to their voices, talking about me probably…saying what a fucking disappointment I was.

Back to level red. Back to sending demons back to Hell…back to the shittiest jobs they could find for me and the lowest pay they had.

“Hey…hold the door!” Redemption called as the lights went out and the doors closed.

I gripped the railing, watching the elevator lights count down until the thing jerked to a stop. The commotion of floor one was deafening, crawling through the gaps of the doors before they opened.

I stepped forward, ready to meet the rush, and stared at the packed distributions office. Hunters from all over stood in line for their jobs, most were from out of town. They were assigned and then turned to leave.

Some were happy…most weren’t. I sighed and stepped into the foyer, staring at the colored job cards. Black for the cleaner demon jobs, brown for goblins and ghouls, yellow for vampires, purple for night-walker witches, and white for the day warden witches. The colors ranged all the way up to the best of the best…gold for fae and the most prestigious of the supernatural creatures.

Those were the real money, and all the fame that came with it. The elevator sounded behind me and the doors opened.

“Lorn,” Redemption called my name, but, still, I kept on moving…pushing in to stand at the back of the line.

“Lorn, please…”

Couldn’t listen to him…couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“Dammit, I didn’t know…don’t you think I’d give you the heads-up if I did?”

I wrenched my gaze toward him and saw the goddamn fake for what he was. I couldn't believe I'd slept with him…what the hell had I been thinking?

He was different then—I lowered my gaze to his perfect Armani suit—very different.

Desperation filled his eyes as he reached for my hand. I could almost smell the sour notes of anguish on his breath. His hard body pushed against mine as he crammed into the space behind me.

“Redemption,” the young woman called at the counter and waved him forward. “You don’t have to wait back there, come on up.”

I looked at the long-ass line in front of me.

“Won’t you even look at me?” he pleaded.

The receptionist waved frantically, trying to get his attention. I cut him a glare and motioned to the front. “Think your girlfriend's trying to grab your eye.”

He turned, glanced at her once, and then turned back. “She’s not my girlfriend. I’m trying…” someone coughed, another person sniggered, before he leaned in closer and whispered, “I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

“The right thing is to get your allocation." I muttered. "After all, the famous don’t have to wait for anyone.”

If words were venom, if a stare was a dagger, and a smile was a lie, then Redemption was in a helluva lot of trouble. “Have a good day, Redemption.”

His dark eyes clouded with disappointment, one nod of a head was all he gave me before he turned and pushed his way from the end of the line. I watched him stride up to the receptionist. watched him sign the golden job card and walk away.

It’d been fun, while it lasted. I wanted to remind myself of the good times…the times where we didn’t leave his bed all day, even when the phones started to ring and never stopped. He’d been a drug…that was for sure. One I never wanted to taste ever again.

The line shuffled forward, and I moved, trying like hell to shove the meeting from my head. I thought about the police investigations, specifically Titus Banks with his missing wedding band.

Help me…those words resounded, and the memory surfaced. Dark night, harsh lights as Titus strode out of the doorway of the house and lifted his gaze.

A cold breeze whispered in my ear. I shivered and glanced around the room. No one else noticed…no one cared. No one else felt the dark beginnings. The shudder raced, dancing along my skin, searching for a way inside.

The hairs on my arms stood on end. My heart picked up pace, thundering like a runway locomotive as I scanned the doorway. Something was coming…

Redemption turned, giving me one last glance before he headed for the doorway.

Stop! Redemption…stop!

The words filled my mouth and then plunged, ramming back down my throat. I stumbled forward, breaking the line, but he was already gone, stepping outside the building. There was something coming, something that brought with it a promise of destruction.

“Hey, Lorn. You’re up.”

I turned at the voice and stared at Glory. He took a step, reached out, and brushed my arm. “Girl, you okay? You don’t look so hot.”

I tried to nod…tried to speak. Tried to do anything but stumble back in line and wait for the receptionist to wave me forward.

One motion of her hand and I was sidling up to the counter. “Lorn Payne.”

“Lorn…” she scanned the list… “Oh, here we are. You’ve been assigned a red.”

I nodded weakly. I didn’t care…not anymore. The switch was unexpected, and yet I didn’t care about the assignment, didn’t care how fucked the system was. A system created to pit one hunter against another in an endless battle to do better…to be better.

I sucked in a breath, and the air left on a shudder. Don’t play their games…don’t ride their never-ending wheel.

“Here’s payment for the Lawson job.”

She slid across a cashier’s check. Ten dollars and sixteen cents. I lifted my gaze to the terror in her eyes. Ten dollars for one job, ten for the other…last week was only five jobs. Fifty bucks to last me a week…I tried to force a smile, but…couldn’t.

“They can cash that for you at the front.”

I grabbed the check and the file with its cherry red job card and headed for the door.

Break the wheel.

Break…the wheel.

Break that fucking wheel…

The thud of my boots resounded, slamming the thought through my head. I strode past the elevators and punched through the door to the stairs. They thought they could break me, thought they could push me into either walking out or losing my temper.

I gripped the steel railings and raced down the one flight of stairs to the front. My breaths were harder as I punched through the doors and headed for the front desk.

“Lorn,” Melanie shoved to a stand behind the desk.

I turned, eyeing Gerald, as he waved people through.

“Sorry about Gerald before. He gets a little overzealous on assignment days.”

“It’s fine,” I muttered and slid the check across the counter.

She grabbed the slip, eyed the amount and sighed. “They do this on purpose, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

Voices drifted down from the floor above. I lifted my gaze and caught Redemption deep in conversation with Veronica, and he didn’t look happy.

He leaned forward and gripped the bannister at her side. The move looked seductive at first glance, but I stared a little longer.

His face gave little emotion, and that’s where it ended.

Redemption as deadpan as a zombie? Never. The sonofabitch exuded confidence. He was sex on two legs when he wanted to be, charming the pants off anyone—including me.

But this…whatever this was…wasn’t charming. He leaned close, whispered something in her ear, and leaned back. She didn't answer, not for a second or two, and, when she did, it was with a nod of the head.

What the fuck were those two cooking up?

As though he'd heard the thought, Redemption turned his head and found me. Coins clattered against the marble counter. I wrenched my focus from above to grasp the money in one fist.

“Thanks…thanks, Melanie.” I took a step backwards.

“Wait!” she called, and shoved up from her seat. “My cousin’s first gig is Saturday at a bar downtown. I know you liked his music before.” She shoved a ticket my way.

Hopeful eyes….always so damn hopeful. Humans were always the same, and yet, for the life of me, I couldn’t shatter that look. I gave her a smile and snagged the ticket from the counter.

Wicked. I stared at the print. The bar…the damn bar was called Wicked? “Thanks,” I raised the ticket. “I can’t wait to be there.”

Her smile lit up the damn room. Brown eyes sparkled. “I’ll see you there,” she gushed. “I knew you’d come…I told him…told him you would.”

Oh God, she was ruining it now…smashing it into the damn mud under the heel of fucking enthusiasm.

I backed up slowly, not risking a glance at the first floor, and then turned for the door. The money crumpled in my grasp. Rent, food…fuel. I tried to make the numbers—but whatever way I worked it, something had to give.

Gerald gave me the damn stink eye as I passed. I didn’t even acknowledge him, only hightailed it out of that damn place as fast as I could.

I winced into the sun and dragged my hand high. Where was the damn solace of the night when you needed it? I made for my car, taking one long look at the black Maserati, while inside my head the snide damn comment surfaced…You wouldn’t like it. It’s last year's model.

It must be worth what? One-fifty…two hundred? One look at my pathetic ride was all I needed. Last year's model, huh? Not only was the smarmy bastard quick to rub my nose in his money, but he was prepared to sacrifice me at the damn meeting…and what for?

To save face.

Break my damn back to climb a little higher up the ladder.

I kneeled down at the front tire. I’ll hit him where it hurts, the only place it does fucking hurt…in his over-inflated ego.

I skimmed the heel of my boot and pressed the outer curve of the base. A section popped out, enough for me to snag the end and yank the short double-edged blade free.

I jabbed the blade into rubber. The tire hissed, and then slumped to the ground in a huff. The front corner of the car dropped hard as I stood, watching. Something fluttered free from the grill to catch a tiny breeze.

A square…transparent.

The drug.

A sting raced across my palm as I lunged, grabbing the square before it hit the ground. Oww. Goddamnit. My fingers unfurled, I stared at the small sleeve as it melted into the long gashes from the night before.

Fuck. I flicked my hand, casting the fragment free, and stumbled.

But it was too late…far too late. I could feel the drug slipping into the wounds, finding a way through flesh…hunting for the one thing it wanted.

My pulse raced, throbbing with a thunderous beat. The sound shattered my mind, booming and banging, pulsing the point in between my eyes.

Clouds shifted in the sky, stealing away the sun.

Darkness that devoured the light…

Darkness that seemed to swell inside me, and out of the darkness came the faint flicker of flames.

“Lorn?”

Flames that engulfed the sides of my vision.

Flames that roared inside my head.

“Lorn, it’s Titus…” Desperation etched his voice.

Hands gripped me…squeezing, lifting, as the words tore from my lips. “Drug…accident. Help me.”

I caught the faint turn of his head. And that throbbing…bones pulsing, pushing all the way into the back of my skull as the flames turned into an inferno.

Screams filled my head. Screams and terror as pain flared, carving all the way along my spine. And out of those sounds came the vision. Flames and torture and terror…I was in a cavern. Shadows clung to the rock walls. I glanced to the light…to the red and orange glow from the fire.

And out of the darkness came a sound…a voice, deep, masculine…calling—calling for me.

“Jesus Christ…Lorn…Lorn.”

My knees buckled as the fire bled away, but it wasn’t the ground that hit me…it was the night. The night with all its terror. The night with all its pain.

And as the flames swallowed me, I felt his hands under my body, lifting, cradling as he growled. “I’ve got you. You hear me, Lorn? I’ve got you!”