The jagged sound of rushed breaths drew me closer…black turned into gray, lightening and lifting as I floated closer to the surface.

Fingers moved, creeping out…searching for warm bodies next to me. Titus…Gabriel…Rival…Redemption…their names were a constant. I drew a breath and searched for them…and instead of sweat and sex, there was the smell of blood.

Blood…

The boom of a shotgun ricocheted inside my head.

Eyes snapped open to the darkened room.

And with consciousness came the roar of pain. Stabbing, grinding, twisting metal shards through my thigh. I whimpered and lifted my head. Dark comers…dark space…and then movement.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” the woman murmured, and stepped closer. “You remember where you are?”

Sunlight on my face. The feeling of freedom for a second before…before blood…before agony. Gunshot to my thigh, and the screams…all the screams closing in on me. Henry Mughausser. His wide eyes were filled with terror, right before I poured all my hate and rage into hellfire toward him.

My pulse skipped and then raced to catch up. Reflex moved in as I pushed my heel into the mattress and shoved higher on the bed.

The roar of agony was blinding, stars detonated behind my eyelids.

“Easy there,” the shifter murmured and stepped closer. “No one’s gonna hurt you.”

She glanced at my cheek and then my thigh. “Looks like you did a good enough job on your own. I’m Stacie. Stacie Fletcher. Shifter, yes, cougar if you need to know.”

Panicked, I stared around the room.

“You came in here looking for a bathroom. I thought you just needed a place to clean up, but you didn’t look so hot. When you didn’t answer me, I broke the damn latch, and you were passed out on the floor. You’re still here, by the way…the Den it’s called, run by my boyfriend, Snatch…”

I flinched. Snatch? Slow thoughts caught on the one fucking thing she told me that was useless.

“Yeah, don’t even ask. It’s a stupid joke, and if you stand still long enough the old geezer will tell it more than once. We have rooms in the back of the Den, a place for someone to crash…or hide out, if they need.”

Hide out…gotta get outta here…my car…they’ll find it.

“It’s all good, your car is out back in the garage. No one’s gonna find it.”

“How long?”

“A day, honey. You were out when I found you. I dug out that bullet and packed it with gauze.”

I dropped my eyes to the bandage around my thigh and then met her gaze.

“Why?” It was the only question unanswered. “Why help me?”

She gave a shrug and then stepped to the edge of the bed and sat down. “Second chances, I suppose. I was like you once, needed somewhere to wash away the blood. Snatch gave me a second chance…and well, here we are.”

Second chances…how were they with third and fourth chances? How were they with perpetual bad choices and crossed lines. How were they when the very laws they pledged to uphold, they ended up breaking themselves.

How were they when they lost themselves.

How were they when they realized they could never go back.

Not to their home.

Not to the ones they loved.

Not to their kin…ever…ever again.

“I need to get out of here,” I muttered, and stared at the thick white bandage around my thigh. I was still in my shirt and underwear, but my jeans were gone. “My jeans.”

“Over there, had to wash them three times to get the smell of blood out.” She stood up from the bed and crossed the small room.

She was nice…too nice, and the longer I stayed here, the more they were at risk. If mortals found them, they’d come in guns drawn…

Something else crowded the recesses of my mind…not just humans—hunter’s now, too. They’d be coming. Shifters or not…they’d spill blood, just to get to me.

I clenched my jaw, fisted the sheets, and then tried to move my legs. Agony roared, driving through my thigh and into my hip. I swallowed the scream, dragging my foot toward the edge of the bed.

“You are one determined bitch, I’ll give you that,” Stacie murmured, and then held out my jeans and my car keys. “Can’t take your car. They’ll have stop points on each side of the city. Here,” she turned and grabbed a cap from the dresser, “use this to cover your hair. There’s an old pickup out back, rusted all to hell, but you can’t kill the engine. You’re welcome to it, if it’ll get you where you need to go.”

“And my car?”

She shook her head. “I know a guy who knows a guy, he can strip it down, sell it for parts, and poof, like that you’ll disappear.”

Disappearing sounded nice…real nice. Right after eight more bodies were piled at my feet…and the hag…don’t forget the hag. I leaned as far forward, and then winced. Stacie stepped closer, “here let me help.”

I could do nothing but watch as she sank to the floor, gripped my jeans and eased them over my feet and along my legs.

Boots were next. She gripped them, easing my feet into each one before she rose. I struggled, pulling them high on my thighs as she bent, and grabbed my pack.

“Thank you,” I shoved against the bed. The pain was savage, ebbing and rising as I stood, fumbling with my zipper and button and then grasped my pack. “Thank you for everything.”

She gave a nod and then took a slow step toward the door. “If you can walk, then you can run…maybe you’ll have half a damn chance out there. That mortal you killed…he hurt you?”

I flinched, boots scuffed the floor. “Yes, killed my mom and my grandmother, wants to force my father to kneel.”

“I’d like to see that,” she murmured and then turned toward me. Gold blazed in midnight eyes as she held mine. “I’d very much like to see them try to make the Lord of Hell kneel.”

She went to the door, turned the knob, and stepped outside. I swallowed hard, bore down on my leg and felt the muscle cramp…if I can walk, then I can run…if I can walk…then I can run…

Her words drove me forward. I swallowed the scream and the anger as the faint sound of rock filtered through from the bar.

The music came from the left of a storage room, but Stacie turned right and headed for a door on the other side. I braced myself against the wall, driving one foot out in front of the other, hobbling more than walking.

My thigh tensed, pinching and pulsing, shuddering my knee with each step. I gripped my car keys and stumbled after her.

“Just through here,” she murmured, and held open a door to the back of the building.

I inhaled the stench off the alley and stifled the urge to gag.

“Stinks, huh? Keeps us safe, though, harder to track.” Stacie stepped across an empty courtyard and up to a garage. She fished into her pocket for a set of keys. “The back of this garage takes you one street over. If you head right and then take the first left, you’ll find Crescent Way and that will take you all the way out of the city.”

Tears pricked my eyes. I could say it was the goddamn pain but that’d be a lie. It was her, the way she never asked, never questioned—never judged.

Any other time, I might’ve called her friend. I might’ve held onto this connection, somehow. I took a step and grasped her arm. “Thank you, for everything.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she muttered, red flushing to her cheeks as she glanced at my thigh. “You’ll need to keep an eye on that. I dug out the bullet, but you can still get infected. I smelled pain and purpose on you the moment you stepped through the door. Do what needs to be done, Lorn. Do what needs to be done and then figure out how to find a little peace, and when you do…when your soul rests a little easier, come back and find me. Maybe then I can rest a little easier, too.”

I nodded, finding the echo of my own torment in her eyes. “I will. I’ll make it my mission.”

She lifted a small set of keys toward me and then motioned to an old beat-up white pickup at the end of the garage. My Corolla sat next to it, windows down, just the way I’d left it.

“You want to get moving, the longer you stay here, the more that will eventually come. We’ll hold them off for as long as we can. Snatch don’t like humans or hunters comin’ around his place. But there’s only so many threats, you understand?”

I gave a nod and grasped the keys from her hand. I understood all too well. There was only so long you could hold back the tide, and it was rising, swelling to a tsunami right before my eyes.

They were coming for me. They were all coming for me, the only question was how many of the Nine I could take down before they caught me.

Jerry…the name ricochet like a bullet through my brain. I clenched the keys in my fist and then went to the trunk of the Corolla.

Sweat dripped down my neck to my spine by the time I’d grabbed the go bag filled with guns and hauled my stuff into the back seat of the pickup. I climbed into the driver’s seat, shoved the key into the ignition, and started the engine.

The damn thing was a beast, coughing and sputtering, filling the garage with thick gray smoke. The garage door behind me shuddered and then rolled upwards.

Stacie gave a nod and then a wave as I shoved the truck into gear and slowly backed out. For a second, I didn’t want to leave. I had no home to go to…no one waiting for me anymore.

Rival made his choice, as did Gabriel…Titus was the only one depending on me, trapped in his own hell. I tapped the brakes, and listened to the squeal before the pickup lurched forward.

I followed her directions and kept the cap low with my red hair piled under it. I looked more like a guy than anything now. With gaunt eyes and a dirty shirt, I blended in better than I’d hoped. Instead of turning onto the highway, I kept to the quiet city streets, bypassing the exit to the city altogether.

My thigh throbbed, and braking was a bitch. So I kept it slow, slumped against the seat, and crawled my way west once more.

Jerry…Jerry…I tried to think, tried to remember any mention of him in Alma’s notebooks, and came up empty. I pulled into a quiet service station far enough off the highway to miss most of the customers and refueled before I hobbled inside. These days, my body was fueled with three things: sugar, caffeine, and rage.

I limped toward the refrigerator section and pulled out as many energy drinks as I could carry. The kid behind the counter never looked up from his comic, only leaned closer to the cash register, perched on an old stool and slowly flicking through the pages.

I stumbled past the rows of newspaper to see the headlines…

Lucifer’s Daughter on the Hunt

There was an image of Henry Mughausser, a profile taken from the bastard’s website, smug fucking smile and all…and another as he stood surrounded by some of the elite…

Jerry Leander, founder of Claws for Hire, and high-profile investment banker, Henry Mughausser leaving the Ritz Carlton, Philadelphia.

Jerry…I stared at the grainy black and white image.

I didn’t need a journal to know it was him.

“Hey man, you going to pay for that?” The kid called behind the newspaper stand. I reached out, snagged the top paper, and headed for the counter.

“Oh, look, sorry ma’am,” the attendant glanced at me and rang up the items.

“It’s all good,” I stared at the counter and slid a fifty and two twenties toward him. “This, the gas, and keep the change.”

I grabbed the items and forced myself to stride from the service station before I glanced over my shoulder. The kid stared at the register, counting the money, caught up with the six bucks he pocketed. That’s exactly what I wanted…enough of a distraction to get me into the truck and out of sight.

I piled the paper and the drinks on the seat as I pushed up with my good leg and spilled into the pickup.

Claws for Hire…I didn’t have to think too hard to figure out his game. There were plenty of humans like him, ones that used supes for blood sport or protection…or both. I yanked out my phone and punched in his name.

The website was first, a gaudy looking thing with bloody fangs and muscled men wearing tank tops and guns. I cringed and shook my head.

I started the truck, pulled out into the traffic, and then slipped onto the on-ramp to the freeway.

My pulse skipped, another of the Nine was in sight. Henry swore he was a nobody, swore they gave him no information about Titus. Maybe he was just a nobody.

I sent out a tendril of power, searching for any sign of the night hag. The scratch down my chest was still there, healing, but still there. Maybe Henry wasn’t worth her coming after me.

But someone was.

Someone with a little more power.

I turned my head and glanced at the image on the newspaper.

I’d find them…every last one of them.

Cars whipped past, heading into the city, sedans, trucks…a semi-trailer or two…a black Explorer caught my eye, dark-tinted windows, a shadow behind the wheel…there was something familiar…my gaze slipped to the license plate CAPTURE.

My stomach clenched in warning, heart thundered, driving the icy crystals of fear through my veins. I knew that four-wheel drive and the sonofabitch behind it.

I glanced into the rear-view mirror as the four-wheel drive sped past and pushed the accelerator a little harder. It wasn’t a coincidence Capture was here. In our line of work, there was no such thing.

I pushed the old pickup a little harder and the rusted beast surged ahead. All of a sudden, mortal cops were the least of my worries.

The Circle would send their best to take me down. They’d come hard and fast, some I’d never see coming, and some I’d smell a mile away.

Jerry Leander was in my sights. Claws for Hire was a good three hours away. My thigh cramped and howled. I gripped the massive steering wheel and held on. Three hours of sitting. Three hours of driving.

I swallowed and pushed the truck harder, watching the speedometer needle dance on the white line. Phone poles died away as I headed west and then south. Killman Bay was a quieter place, trapped between a town and a city. It was big enough for the high flyers like Jerry Leander to set up their headquarters.

I knew of him…had heard of his men around the town. Mercenaries for hire, of the paranormal kind. And if there was anyone who knew about Titus, then it was him. The man with the money now gone, the man with the muscle in my sights.

I drove until my hands quivered against the wheel and the pain climbed higher, spearing into my groin, then pulled off the freeway and found a small diner beside a convenience store.

The place was busy, with lots of cars filled with screaming children and exhausted parents. I pulled the old truck into a parking space and killed the engine. Drugs, food, and rest. I glanced down at my thigh. Blood had seeped through the bandage to stain the front of my jeans once more.

I was losing too much blood, pushing too hard. Rest, my body screamed. “Not yet,” I murmured. “Not until I get what I need.”

I gripped the handle of the door and shoved. Hunger cramped and churned as the thing swung open and I climbed out.

I went into the store, finding travel packets of pain killers. It wasn’t anywhere near enough. I lifted my head to the older woman behind the counter. “You got anything stronger than this?”

She leaned to the side, found where I pointed, and shook her head. I grabbed them all, spilling the packets onto the counter, and turned around to the refrigerator section.

She never looked at me as she rang up the pills and drinks. “Eighteen-fifty.”

I handed her the money, then grabbed the pills and emptied the packets into my mouth as I headed for the diner. The path came around the front of the building and then up to the stairs. Darkness drew my gaze to the towering bank of trees behind the building.

Something moved in the shadows, something stepped closer. Something that gripped me with fear.

The night hag.

I tried to swallow, tried to move, but I was frozen…

And for a second the sun seemed to dip from the sky.

You can’t run…she whispered inside my head.

My knee buckled, and I crashed to the ground. I punched out a fist and hit the concrete path. My drinks hit the ground and then rolled. A whimper slipped from my lips as I stared at them, unable to lift my head...

“Hey, lady, you okay?” a man called out behind me.

Without a blow, she gripped me with fear.

Hands at my back made me flinch. A little girl knelt on the ground in front of me. Pink tufts on a pretty white skirt. Run…I tried to scream the words.

“She’s got a sore on her leg, Daddy,” she lifted her head and called.

“Well, what do we do when someone’s hurt, Cassie?” he asked.

Tiny fingers found my hand. I stared at the perfection and then lifted my gaze. The shadows were empty, the trees stood on their own.

The night hag was gone, as though she’d never been there at all.

I dropped my gaze, finding perfect blue eyes. “Thank you. You are such a good help.”

She was a pretty little girl, with chubby cheeks and a wide smile. Four or five years old, it was hard to tell.

“Mom says I’m a good helper,” she gushed, then gripped my arm and heaved.

I shoved against the concrete and pushed up with my good leg.

“Here, let me help you,” her father said as he stepped in close, glancing at the wound on my thigh and then at my cap.

Strands of hair had slipped out to slap against my face. I reached up and shoved them back underneath as he bent to pick up the drinks. “You okay?”

I glanced at the woods and nodded. “Just pushing a little hard, but thank you. You have a beautiful little girl.”

Take her and leave this place, I wanted to warn. But the sun was back in the sky, like it’d never dulled at all.

The man smiled, ruffled her hair, and nodded. “Thank you, takes after her mom, I think.”

He motioned toward the diner. “You’re welcome to join us if you’d like?”

“Thank you, but I’m going to grab something to go, gotta keep driving.”

He gave a slow nod and then turned. He saw my hair, saw the blood on my jeans. Any moment he could call the police.

Instead, he held out his hand to his daughter and they turned for the front door. I could hear her chatter all the way as they stepped through the door and it swung shut.

The moment tore me in two. I wasn’t this murderer…I wasn’t this killer. The drive to protect and love burned through my veins. Just like it did for my father. I stumbled toward the diner, gripped the railing, and climbed the stairs.

Love came in all shapes…as big as a heart…and as sharp as glass.

Love can take a bullet.

But love can deliver one, as well.

I’d found someone I’d do both for…four of them, actually.

And as I stepped into the diner, I hoped that one they could find some way to forgive me.