When Amber called, I was leaving the manor. I hadn’t planned to take that long before going to the inn and seeing Brooke, but Douglas and Caleb wanted to touch base with me about the demons in Charleston and the potions operation—the demons were actually lesser forest demons and they were spreading panic in the woods around Charleston. Nothing big but worth keeping an eye out in case they came this way, or in case we needed to go down there and interfere. As for the potions operation, they were too quiet and that bothered me a lot.

Annoyed, I drove to the inn as fast as I could. Amber’s call had distressed me, and I couldn’t wait to get there and solve whatever it was.

At the inn, Brooke was seated in a high-back chair in the sitting room, a porcelain cup of tea in her trembling hands, and Amber was seated by the window, her eyes outside. Mrs. Finnygood was pacing around, talking nonstop about making Brooke nervous, about having waited for her and not going out for coffee.

“You went out for coffee?” It was the first thing out of my mouth and it sounded harsh. Startled, Brooke almost dropped the cup of tea. She turned her big green eyes to me. “What happened?” I tried again, softer.

“She went out with me,” Amber said, standing up.

Mrs. Finnygood halted in front of me, the top of her head coming to my stomach, and pointed her wrinkled finger at me. “You, young man. You should have been here. Now all of this mess with this poor child. All because of you.” She humphed, showing her discontentment, then marched out of the room.

She had balls, I had to give her that.

Amber replaced her, although Amber came up to my chin and I knew she could kick some serious ass. I straightened.

She told me about Brooke not finding Mrs. Finnygood at the inn, about Brooke going outside to meet her, about going to Urban Grind together, about the note in Brooke’s pocket, and then about Karl Randall, who jumped out of nowhere and was enchanted by Brooke in less than a second.

“Shit,” I muttered.

“Exactly,” Amber said. “Sorry. The guy just jumped out of nowhere, and he was into Brooke in two seconds flat. There was nothing I could do to avoid it.” She leaned in closer and whispered, “I think she’s in shock. First the note, then the man.”

Understandable.

“We have a situation here, though,” I whispered back. “I think we need to call a meeting with all the hunters in town.”

“What about her?” Amber looked to Brooke, who was as still as a statue, except for her shaking hands. The tea she was holding was untouched. “You can’t just leave her here.”

“I’ll think of something. If we need to hold the meeting here, then so be it.”

Amber’s eyes flicked to the desk in the foyer, but Mrs. Finnygood was still gone. “You’ll have to check with the gnomes if it’s okay first.”

“I know.”

Her gaze switched to Brooke. “All right. You need me for anything else? If not, I’m out because I really need a shower and it would be great to have a nap before this meeting.”

“No, it’s fine. Go rest.” I waved her off and she walked away. “Amber?” I called.

She paused at the front door. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

She nodded, then left.

I turned to Brooke. Yes, Amber was right. She was in shock. She was frozen in place, her hands trembling, the teacup forgotten and the liquid about to slosh over the edge. Her eyes were wide, fixated on the window looking outside but not seeing anything.

Before she had always given me the impression of being determined and strong and lively. Like this, she seemed so fragile and small.

I took the chair beside her and looked at her. “Brooke? Are you okay?”

She blinked, then finally set the teacup down, and turned her pretty eyes to me. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I … I …” Her brows creased. “Why—?”

“Brooke, child,” Mrs. Finnygood called, barging back into the room. “Since your trip to the coffee shop was ruined, I made you breakfast. Come on. Come quick before it all gets cold. Nobody likes cold food, do they? Good gracious, no, nobody does.”

I took Brooke’s hand and pulled her from her chair. Once she was standing, she tightened her grip in mine and the protective feeling drowned me. We followed Mrs. Finnygood to a dining room with a long mahogany table and ten high-back chairs. Paintings and antiques filled the walls barely leaving an inch between each decoration, making the room feel cozy but almost stuffy.

One end of the table was set for two. Though I had already eaten something, my mouth watered at seeing the bowls with fruits, hot biscuits, breads, and cheeses spread over the tablecloth.

Brooke and I sat down and Mrs. Finnygood fused over her, asking what she wanted, how she wanted, if it was good or warm enough. Then finally, she said, “I’ll check on my other guests now.” She turned narrowed eyes at me. “Make sure she eats something, Mr. Knight.”

“I will. Thank you, Mrs. Finnygood.”

At first, Brooke didn’t move. Not knowing what she liked, I grabbed a little of everything and put on the plate in front of her.

“Eat something,” I urged.

With automatic movements, Brooke picked a biscuit and broke it apart. She put tiny bits into her mouth and chewed slowly. It was agonizing and I wanted to shake her, as if that would snap her from her shock.

Finally, she spoke. “Why would he send me a letter saying he cared about me, then a note telling me to leave?”

I sighed in relief. For a moment there, I thought she would spend the day in that state. “What makes you think it was your father?”

“If it wasn’t my father, it was whoever sent me the first letter.” She pulled out the first letter from the inside pocket of her jacket and showed both to me. “They are the same handwriting.”

I stared at the letters. Yes, the same handwriting, the same paper, and from looking at the ink, I would say the same pen used to write them too.

“I think the most important right now is the other part of the note.”

“That I’m in danger.”

“Yes.”

“But from what?”

“I don’t know.” I paused, not sure if I should go on, but I wanted to warn her. To soften the blow in case we were right. “Remember I told you nagas come back for sirens when they are older and their powers are activated? Well, it could be your father, but it could also be some other naga wanting to take you with him. Since sirens and nagas have similar powers, it’s common for them to work together, be it for good or …”

“Evil.” I inhaled sharply. “You think my father is evil. That he lured me here with this letter to take me away so I can be evil with him?”

“We don’t know,” I said. “If he is a good naga, then why is he hiding? Why did he send you a letter in the first place? And now this note? It doesn’t make sense.”

She let out a long, shuddering breath. “Nothing makes sense.” She finished the biscuit and reached for an apple. At least she was eating.

My phone rang and I glanced at the screen. “Cole?” I answered.

“There’s another body,” he blurted out. “The police are coming to the inn to get her, and this time I don’t think they will let her go easily.”

“Shit.” I ran a hand through my hair. “How long?”

“Ten minutes, if not less.”

“Thanks.” I ended the call and shot up. “Come on,” I said to Brooke.

She stared at me. “What happened?”

I exhaled through my nose. I could lie to her but why? “There was another body and the police are coming for you again.”

Her face paled. “What? No. I didn’t do anything.”

I placed my hand on her shoulder. “I know, Brooke, but the police don’t know that. They will say you’re guilty until proven otherwise.” I slipped my hand down her arm and cupped her elbow. “Now, let’s go.”

She let me pull her to her feet. “Where are we going?”

To the place where I should have taken her two nights ago. To the only place where she would be safe.

“To my home.”