Jack was in the hospital lobby when the alarm screeched. He dropped the stuffed animal, the Dunkin' Donuts tray, and bolted to the emergency stairs. On the eighth floor, he had to scoot past a tsunami of soggy hospital staff, gurneys, and wheelchairs before reaching Zoe's room.

Fuck. Her room was empty and Hands nowhere in sight.

How had he let this happen again?

Her last words haunted him. I want to be loved, too. What was wrong with him? Three stupid words.  He'd fucked up again. He should have told her what she needed to hear.

Out of breath, Hands met in the hall, his clothes drenched. “Sorry. She was long gone by the time I made it to the street.”

Jack bit back the scathing oaths at the tip of his tongue.

“Find her.” Anger seethed in his low voice when he said, “And I want to know everything she’s done for the last two weeks. Every call. Every keystroke. Everything. Are we clear?”

“Yes, boss.”

An hour later, Jack sat in the back seat of the town car with a spreadsheet of every text and call she’d made in the last forty-eight hours. He cursed vehemently when he read the last few.

“Get us to JFK.”

Hands grunted. The car slid in behind a line of taxis, went through a yellow light, and moved slowly along on Seventh Avenue South. 

Jack keyed in Zoe's best friend’s cell number and pressed send.

A concerned voice answered. “Zoe?”

“No. This is Jack Fialko.”

“Fialko?” He could hear the frown in her voice.

“Zoe just bolted from her hospital. Did she call you?” Jack glanced out at the traffic as they crawled forward a foot at a time.

“Last time we spoke, she was pretty pissed off. Not sure if I'd tell you, even if I knew.”

“You are aware she was kidnapped? Twice.” Jack swallowed his impatience. Loyalty was one thing but Zoe and his baby were in danger.

“Hell no. The stalker?”

“Yeah. He’s a hit man for the Russian mafia.”

“Shit. Does she know?”

“I haven’t had the chance. We've been, ah, apart.” Jack cringed. Apart. Separated. Words he never wanted to use again.

Nan shot back. “The guy that’s been after her for months is a hit man and you’re waiting for the right time to tell her? What the fuck?”

“It’s complicated.” Everything about Zoe was complicated. They’d probably end up living separate lives, finding others to have meaningless sex. Frustrated forever.

Nan's volume increased a notch. “What do you need me to do?”

“Is it secure? To talk?” Jack scrubbed his hand over the stubble on his chin.

“This is the friggin' FBI. It's as safe as anywhere.”

“The man who’s been following her is her natural uncle. Her father’s brother.”

Nan whistled and the computer's speaker screeched. “Give me a minute.”

There was a pause and he heard fingers flying across a keyboard. Some more clicks ensued, more pauses, and she muttered something he couldn’t decipher.

“Shit. I swear, if anything happens to her, I’ll kill you myself.”

“No need. I’ll do it for you.” He turned up the volume so Hands could hear. “What did you find?”

“She has a new passport that matches a name on a manifest to Romania leaving in twenty minutes from JFK.”

Jack cursed. “I’ll never get there in time.”

“I’m booking a flight to Romania as we speak. I’ll meet you there–”

“Wait.” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. Zoe would never forgive him if anything happened to Nan. “Do you have someone to watch your back? This guy is…powerful.”

Nan gave a frustrated sigh. “I can handle myself.”

“Did she tell you about my family’s clan?”

“Of course,” she snorted.

The car swerved, Hands cursed, and the side of a city bus almost clipped them. Jack gritted his teeth. “And?” 

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio…”

“You’re quoting Hamlet?” He let out a little laugh. What a strange woman.

“Nothing like a good education and Netflix. I’ll see you soon.”             

Jack hung up the phone and said to Hands dryly, “Nice driving.”

His driver smirked, found an empty lane and barreled onto the entrance ramp for the FDR.

Romania. The home of her birth mother's healer clan. But why? There was only one reason. Jack called Olivia from his cell phone. “Hey.”

“You find her?”

The black hole of the Brooklyn Battery loomed ahead. “I'm about to lose you. She’s on her way to Bucharest.”

“Romania?” Liv breathed out harshly. “Why?”

“Fuck if I know.” He was whining and that fact sent him over the edge. He swore he'd never let a woman get to him like that again. “She didn’t even tell me about the complications with her pregnancy. If she would have come to me and–”

“Really? Would you have honestly let her go off to Europe?”

“Hell no. The doctor said she needed to stay off her feet.”

“You guys really have to work on your communication skills.” She was cut off.

Jack swore and grumbled something unintelligible as he hung up the phone.  His barely trained mate was on her own in another country, and running up against some of the strongest witches in the world. And it was all his fault.