The Revenger - Debra Anastasia

Table of Contents The Revenger Copyright Dedication Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36

Epilogue Acknowledgments About the Author Books By Debra Anastasia



The Revenger Debra Anastasia

Copyright Copyright (c) 2016 Debra Anastasia All rights reserved Published by Debra Anastasia Cover Art Design - Teresa Mummert Cover Art Image: Depositphotos Editing: Jessica Royer Ocken Formatting by CP Smith The Revenger is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author's twisted imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

Dedication For T, D, and J It’s always all for you.

Chapter 1 Blank Gravestone The gravestone felt cold against her back. From where she sat, Savvy could hear the squeals and happy voices in the playground just over the hill. Maybe it was torture to come here. It never brought her peace. It did bring tears. And sitting on top of her husband and daughter felt sacrilegious, but what else could she do? It was the closest thing to hugging them she could find. She wanted to believe she could feel them, but she couldn’t. She wanted to see them in her peripheral vision. She never did. Her mind refused to play any hopeful tricks at all. There was no way to make the pain go away. She turned her wrist over to look at the scars her failed suicides had left behind. If she almost completely closed her eyes, the harsh lines spelled the word love. Fucking ironic. Hugging her stomach, she took another traitorous breath. She told her brother she came here to talk to them, and that it made her feel better. Both were lies. She never spoke a word, in her head or from her lips. The heartbreak was white noise, an endless, desperate background. A bright red playground ball launched into view from the happier place. It bounced and rolled to a stop close to her feet. In the time before, she would have thrown it back over the fence in the distance to the child who was surely missing it. Now she looked at the ball without even really seeing it. Her daughter had loved to play. The word play ripped Savvy’s soul open again. “Do you want to play, sweetheart?” “Yes, Mommy. Yes!” Savvy closed her eyes when she heard a set of little feet coming to retrieve the ball. “Lady, are you okay?” She didn’t answer. She let the silence create enough unease that the child picked up the ball and trotted away. She hated seeing children now. The soft hair, the big eyes—she just couldn’t make her brain do it. And her husband was buried here as well. For a moment she remembered how they’d been wrapped in each other’s arms, the way he would rock her daughter to sleep at night. Savvy bit her lip. She needed the physical pain to stop her tears. She ran a hand through her blonde hair and tensed her body. Standing quickly, she brushed off her jeans. She looked at the empty stone. It bore no words; it was blank—just like the rest of her life. Today was the anniversary of their death. She still couldn’t bring herself to have their names etched in everlasting print. She couldn’t bring herself to clean her daughter’s room. She still slept on one side of the bed, leaving his side free, as if he might crawl under the covers and pull her to him. The sun was bright, deceiving. Savvy hadn’t worn a jacket, but the crisp wind certainly demanded one. Her body still sought such comforts, and that pissed her off. She didn’t want to eat, yet she got hungry. She didn’t want her hair bouncy and clean, yet she showered. Habit maybe. Betrayal is what it felt like when

she put on a coat. They certainly weren’t warm in the cold ground. She began the walk back to her house, one she knew too well now. She’d seen the seasons pass, the green leaves on the oak turning colors and dropping to be a blanket for her feet. Snow had come as a crunchy announcement of the winter. Her daughter had loved snow. It was magic floating from the clouds, a whole world covered with white cotton candy like a cartoon. And now spring had burst on the scene again. This time as a cruel reminder of all she’d lost. Savvy opened the door to her house and was greeted by a loud Stanley Cup playoffs game and her brother’s angry shouting. His team was losing. She closed the door with a careful click. She appreciated that he was here adding life into the house, even if nothing could put life back into her eyes. “You back, Savs?” Tobias. His voice was so familiar, the sound of her childhood. He was Toby to everyone else now, but always Tobias to her. “Yeah.” She knew he was just making her talk, and that was fine. She stood in the entryway but could tell he’d pulled the recliner into its upright position by the familiar sound it made. Her husband had loved that chair. Late in the evening, she’d used to hear that noise and then reliable footsteps to each door and window would follow. He’d made sure the locks were turned and hit the combination on the keypad to arm the alarm system. Keeping them safe. She snorted at the irony. You did your best, babe, she told him silently. I was the one who messed up. “Did you go to the uh…” Tobias filled the doorway with his tall frame. He reached up and grabbed the doorjamb, stretching his back. She nodded and busied herself with taking off her sneakers. “I know today is the anniversary, but do you really think that’s helping? I mean, maybe you should give that therapist a call.” Tobias’s arms were well defined, and his bicep twitched. He was worried; she knew that. She wished she could help him, but she felt like she was inside a thick, glass bubble and the rest of the world was on the outside. She put her shoes in the front closet and stood there a second too long. She saw her husband’s work shoes, which he would never put his feet in again. She closed her eyes and pinched her arm, but her tears ignored the pain and fell. “Damn it. How can I do this?” Tobias asked. “I can’t watch you just be stagnant. You don’t do anything. You won’t move anything of theirs.” He came behind her and hugged her tightly, too tightly. Savvy hated to talk about it, about anything. He deserved a better sister who would at least try. “It’s been a year,” he continued. “I’ve been living here half a year, and there’s no change for you. How can I help you? Tell me what to do; I’ll do it.” His desperate words moved her hair. She spoke before she could stop herself, and she knew there would be emotional hell to pay for uttering anything about them. “Every morning, I get hit by a truck. Every afternoon, my mind gets to take a bath in lava. Every night is so black. I don’t want to be here without them.” Savvy reached around her brother’s strong arm and wiped at her cheeks. It was pointless; once she started to cry, she couldn’t stop for hours, sometimes days. “Tobias, I’m too weak to die, and I have nothing to live for. If I could just stop breathing, maybe the pain would end. It never stops. My heart’s cracked open, and all the love has spilled out. I can’t fix it. I don’t even want to—”

Her sobs stopped their conversation. He held her strong, saying, “I know. Let it out. I know.” No one knows, she thought bitterly. No one knows. They’re gone. Tobias did his best, he always did. He was a wonderful brother, but she could tell she was wearing him down. He needed his life back. But Savvy was too scared to act normal, to convince him to go, because then the house would be empty —like another grave for her sweet family.

*~*~*~* That night, Savvy had tucked herself under the covers on her side of the bed when she heard the loud squeak of Tobias getting into the guest bed a few doors down the hall. She had finally quieted her tears enough for him to leave her, but now they came back. Like a cough, they forced themselves on her. But Savvy could cry silently—a skill she’d never wanted to know she had. Her pillow drowned the sobs. The tears never fixed anything, though—just another bodily function in her day. There was no relief in the salty wetness. When finally her eyes had given up all the moisture they had, Savvy sighed. Another long night lay ahead. She got up and paced, just like the night she’d been in labor with her daughter. Then she sat, trying to put a lid on the memory, but it all came back. Her husband, Kal, was rubbing her back and reading from the pregnancy book Savvy had jokingly called the Bible. Savvy punched her mattress and shook her head. She wanted to pretend she didn’t know where she had to go now. But she did. She told herself she needed fresh air. She didn’t. The front hall’s closet squeaked, and Tobias was sure to hear it, so she slipped a pair of red heels from her closet and put them on her feet instead of her sneakers. She’d have to wear her fancy shoes. She took her keys from the hook by the front door. Pressing the alarm buttons would jolt Tobias awake, so she slid open a non-alarmed window instead. Outside, the motion-sensor light blinked happily to its brighter setting, illuminating the driveway and the sensible sedan Tobias had insisted she buy to replace the van that was totaled in the wreck. Once inside the car, she let the shakes take her over. This was a requirement before driving now. Her nervous system staged an involuntary rebellion each time she returned to the driver’s seat. Finally, when she could hold still, she put her keys in the ignition and popped the car in gear. I’m really doing this. She’d been numb for so long that she almost liked the feel of her heart clattering against her ribcage. Savvy took all the correct streets to find her way to the worst part of town. I can’t kill me, but I’m sure I can find someone who’ll do the deed. For the first time in a year, Savvy smiled.

Chapter 2 What Have I Done? Savvy hadn’t driven somewhere with a purpose in a long time. Before, there’d been well-baby visits and trips to the store for diapers, then socks, then school dresses. Now Tobias usually drove. She was getting the sweats again. This sensation had come and gone periodically since the accident. Sometimes she thought it was growing progressively worse, but it was hard to tell. Either way, Savvy chalked it up to guilt. The accident report in the newspaper the day after her life was over had been simply worded. The dichotomy between the brief write up on the impact of Savvy’s life was staggering. Police are looking for more information and witnesses regarding the van vs. truck accident. The incident resulted in the death of a father and daughter. Anyone with information about the substance found at the accident is asked to call the non-emergency number at the Police Station. The corrosive effects will cause a detour until the road can be repaired. Tonight, when she stopped at a red light, her eyes seemed to haze over. She glanced in the rearview mirror, and her pupils looked like they were shaking. The lighting was awful. Maybe she was just fine. Maybe just sad. Were tears blurring her vision yet again? Sometimes she didn’t even realize when she was crying now. She wouldn’t be lucky enough to be sick. To be dying. Whatever it was, this eye thing was new. She looked at herself in the side mirror as well. Now the shaking was subsiding, the night around her looked sharper, clearer again. She would hide this from Tobias, if it even proved to be something more than a physical manifestation of her grief. He would take her right to the doctor, and she would have to take off her clothes. She was perfectly sure the fluorescent lights in the doctor’s office would highlight her moment of selfishness for all to see. The moment that had ended everything and everyone, and had made her world spin out of control. The light turned green, and Savvy took off too fast. The car jerked under her hands. It’s probably scared too. The bar she’d seen so often in the news as a crime scene was not nearly as spectacular as its infamous reputation. Even in the middle of the night, it was shabby looking. Its blue signs were all missing letters, making the words incoherent. Judging from the assholes in the parking lot, reading was the last thing on their minds anyway. She felt revulsion, and, God help her, fear. Well, fuck you! I bet your family was scared too. That didn’t stop you, did it? she asked herself silently, angrily. The lines on the lot were faded, so Savvy just pulled out of the way and parked her car. She got out before the engine had even settled into full quiet. She left the keys on the seat and didn’t lock the door. It

didn’t matter anymore. Low whistles and vile comments launched at her as she went for the front door. Music poured from the place with a consistent, beating bass. She felt her resolve fall to her feet. Her hands started to shake again. She felt like a coward. She was a coward. Savvy kept walking anyway. By the time she got to the blacked-out glass door, she remembered she had no wallet. No money. What the hell was she going to do while she waited for someone to kill her? It didn’t matter anymore. The music grew ten times louder and waved over her as she opened the door. Her heartbeat immediately assimilated to the rhythm. The bouncer stepped in front of her. He was huge. “ID?” His voice was so high and squeaky she almost made eye contact. She shook her head, keeping her eyes on the floor. She didn’t have any ID. She was going to fucking fail again. “That’s okay. Go ahead. We need more chicks in here.” Savvy nodded her thanks and continued inside. When she glanced around the interior, she noted a suspicious lack of movement. The loud music had set up the pretense that there would be dancing. But most chairs had scruffy, scary-looking men in them. The women present were barely dressed and being pawed at half-heartedly. They were old news. Recycled goods. But Savvy was new. She saw an open stool at the bar and sat. The bartender slapped a drink down in front of her without asking her preference. The glass was dirty. Savvy took her finger and followed the circle around the edge. Soon she could smell smoke wafting over her shoulder, and a low, slurring voice wanted her attention. She looked at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar. In the smudged glass she saw that her suitor had a long goatee and a beat-up leather jacket. His sweaty-man aroma finally made it through the smoke to invade her personal space. “Hey, sexy. Can I get a dance outta you?” Say yes. This is what you want, remember? Savvy turned and looked the dirty man in the eyes. Around his body glowed a faint red aura. Savvy blinked. She could feel her pupils shaking again, like they had in the car, and the room grew foggy and soft-focused. Maybe the red stoplight is still affecting my eyesight? No. This color around him, it was something more than a malfunction in her brain. The color around him pulled at the edges of her soul. She had to remind herself how to breathe. It was damn near sexual— not the man, but the sight of this color around him. This had never happened to her before. Maybe she was losing her mind. She glanced around the room, and sure enough, a few of the other guys had flickers of red outlining them. But not everyone. It was confusing, but a part of her understood it that didn’t speak common sense. Shaken, she shook her head no and turned back to her drink. “Fucking bitch.” He sauntered away. She took a sip of the alcohol. Her nose wrinkled in distaste, and the bartender laughed at her reaction from the other end of the bar. She could hear everything so well. The music vibrated in her bones. A drug deal went down in the back corner. She turned to look in time to see the red around the seller turn up its

hue. There was almost a faint hum to it. She could hear it. What the hell is in this drink? Her suitor was now hitting on another girl. She rejected him as well. Savvy could almost hear the girl’s eyes closing and opening, even with her back turned. Maybe they slipped me Ecstasy? “No, Bill, you hurt too much. I’m saying no.” The girl spoke firmly, not a hint of tease. “Bring her another drink, Ryan. I’ll get in somebody’s pants tonight, even if it kills them.” Bill’s guffaws actually made Savvy flinch. They felt like gravel being kicked at her back. She looked at him in the mirror again. His aura, still visible, had grown deeper, more red. It was as real as the drink in front of her, as the pain that never stopped coursing through her. Hatred filled each of her pores. I have to hurt him. I have to. Savvy didn’t have a chance to reflect on her normally passive nature. The red glow around his body called to her, demanded her. She walked straight up to him like she hadn’t rebuffed him minutes before. He gave her an angry onceover. She smiled and grabbed a handful of his facial hair. “I changed my mind, asshole. Come with me out back, and I’ll suck you off so hard your balls will cry.” She felt his beard move as he gave her a delighted smile, and her chest started to tingle. Something— she was feeling something. She had something to do, a job, a purpose, though she still wasn’t entirely sure what it was. Moving on him made her feel alive. “Okay, frosty bitch. You like it rough? I can make it real rough.” He put his large hand around her arm. Instead of fear, she felt joy, like a fisherman with a tug on his line after hours of waiting. As Bill’s red aura touched her arm, she felt her blood boil. Her skin was so incredibly sensitive. He pulled her through the crowd and out an exit door, snarling victorious insults at his buddies in the club. The metal door sealed the music away from them when it closed. The night had a beautiful full moon, like an angel holding a flashlight above their heads. She could see everything as if it were day. She turned and put her back to him, and they were very alone. Their romantic interlude would be held for a rapt audience of trashcans and broken wood pallets. His red aura was everywhere, almost eclipsing her, coloring the night. I want to feel him scream. I want to make everything inside him hurt. She turned to face him, smiling. “Well, I’ll tell you what, I was going to tap Kaite again, but her baggy snatch feels like I’m fucking thin air,” Bill announced to Savvy’s breasts. “But you’ll do. I bet when I slap you the red mark will stay a while. You’re all pale and shit.” He rubbed himself with one hand and wiped his mouth with the other. She couldn’t pull her attention from the red atmosphere that enveloped him, lighting him from all around. It throbbed for her, tempted her, seemed to offer her power. Something’s wrong with me. I need to be scared. I should be afraid. Savvy soon realized the asshole liked pain; it was his foreplay. He backhanded her viciously. Her hair whirled around her as she absorbed the blow. He continued rubbing himself, harder now. Something in Savvy’s mind snapped. She went primal, feral. All she could see was red, and her body was in motion. Every time she landed a crushing blow, the red around him got smaller, and she felt fantastic. The more he screamed, the more satisfied she became. She stepped on his femur and grabbed his ankle.

Effortlessly, she bent his leg until it gave a satisfying snap. She knew her strength wasn’t reasonable. And how did she know right where to step, how to plant her feet to throw punches? Bill had seemed more surprised than she was, which was saying a lot. She laughed out loud with the euphoria as she proceeded to break each of his limbs. He screamed like an animal getting hit by a car, and she felt energy flow through her. She finally stumbled back and closed her eyes. She stretched her arms and took a deep breath. The man couldn’t even cry, and his red aura was gone; it wasn’t glowing through her closed lids anymore. In the next moment she heard a few things all at once, though her crazy enhanced senses seemed to be returning to normal. The club’s exit door swung open, and heavy, male footfalls came from around the corner. Her victim’s labored breaths came with a crackling sound of fluid accompanying them. She opened her eyes, and in front of her was the second-most horrifying sight she had ever asked her eyes to behold. She had damn near torn the man apart. He was still alive, but she bet he wished he wasn’t. I did this. Oh my God. What did I do? Savvy’s stomach turned, and she leaned over and emptied its contents. Her hands shook and, dear God, she was covered in his blood. When she stood, the large bouncer pushed past the gawkers and put a hand on her shoulder. His voice was so high it should’ve been comical, but it wasn’t tonight. “Where did they go?” he demanded. “Which way did they go?” He wanted answers he wasn’t going to get, because Savvy wasn’t able to talk. “There had to be, like, five guys who did this to him. Which way did they go?” He shook Savvy’s shoulders. He doesn’t think I did this? Of course he doesn’t. Oh. My. God. Savvy pointed into the distance, and the man sprinted in the direction she’d indicated. A few more men shouted after the bouncer. “Hold up. We’re coming!” The sirens in the distance sobered her. She could point in a vague direction for these evil men, but the cops would have questions. She ran past the rest of the crowd and jumped in her car. The fact that the car was still there, keys thrown on the front seat, was a miracle. Nor did she miss the irony that she was still alive and driving it. Savvy drove as fast as she dared away from the violence she had just unleashed.

Chapter 3 Bleach and Flames Savvy panted as her hands smeared blood all over her steering wheel. Then she nearly swerved off the road staring at her forearms. The wicked scars left there by her suicide attempts were gone. They’d simply melted away. When? Savvy wondered, And more than that, how? Why? She arrived in front of her house without remembering the trip. Maybe I shouldn’t be here? The cops might find me. I don’t want to bring Tobias into this. The sun would come up in a few hours. She had to suck it up and fix this: either turn herself in or clean up. After a deep breath, she knew. Something in her felt peace. God, it had been so long since she felt peace. Beating the ever-living piss out of and possibly killing a man shouldn’t have made her feel better or closer to anyone, but it did. She could visualize her daughter; she could feel her husband’s breath on her neck, the sensation so real she turned to face him, hopeful before the disappointment filled her. More. I need more. She got out of her car and crawled back into the house through the window. After showering and putting on her cleaning sweats, Savvy grabbed a bucket and the bleach from the laundry room. While she filled the bucket with water, she tried to rationalize. Nothing about this made sense. She had to have been drugged, or affected somehow. She searched her mind for clues about what had happened, what had come over her in the alley, but she couldn’t even recall exactly what she had done. She just saw red—everything a glowing red she had craved. The water began flowing over the top of the bucket. Savvy could feel her daughter’s soft hands touching her cheeks. My baby. Oh God, I need more. She turned off the faucet and carefully retraced her steps, spot-cleaning any drops of blood she’d left on the rug on the way in. It was easier to climb out the window in just bare feet this time. She toted the bucket to her car, which looked much worse than the trail into the house. The upholstery was ruined. She sloshed the bleach mixture all over the driver’s seat until she was sure the blood was gone. As she raised her head to look at the sunrise, she caught the silhouette of a police car at the end of the street against the orange-tinted sky. She dropped low inside her car. Listening to the cruiser’s rubber tires crackle on the asphalt, she crouched on the floorboards. Her heart pounded, but she still couldn’t find her guilt. The car passed, and Savvy had just sat up when the front door was yanked open. “Savvy!” Tobias wasn’t keeping his voice down in respect of the early hour. “Savvy, goddamn it!” She heard the worry in his voice and stepped out of the car. “Look, I’m right here.” He sighed with relief the moment before he was overcome with anger. “You know, when you’re not where you’re supposed to be I assume you’ve tried again.”

Savvy hung her head at the mention of her suicide attempts. He’d done nothing to deserve this crappy of a sister. And he was right. Last night she’d gone looking for someone to kill her. Hurt her. Punish her. She watched as he looked at the bucket in her hands and gave her a distinct glare that said What the hell without words. “I was washing my car.” She spilled the remaining murky water out onto the grass. “You’re washing your car with bleach? On the inside?” Tobias stepped toward her. He must be cold. Her brother was lean but muscular. The neighborhood girls would peek around bushes to get glimpses of his hard chest anytime he mowed the yard without his shirt. This morning they were most likely asleep and missing the show he put on in his flannel pajama bottoms. “Let’s get inside.” Savvy brought the bucket and the bleach past her brother and into the house. He followed her into the laundry room. “I’ll take an explanation any minute now.” She turned but couldn’t get past him; he stood firmly in the doorway. “I went out last night. I hit a deer. My window was open.” She was a horrible liar. Her brother crossed his arms. “Really? I find that hard to believe since you don’t drive anywhere if you can help it.” Savvy started pinching him, and he backed up. He hated to be pinched. That’s it. I’ve cleaned up everything. But when she looked at her feet, she remembered the clothes she’d worn last night. She couldn’t just leave them stuffed in the hamper. She marched past Tobias and gathered them into an incriminating bundle. He followed her through the house despite her shooing hand motions. “Where are you going?” In the kitchen, Savvy grabbed the lighter stick she’d used back when she needed birthday candles to shine for her precious little girl and swallowed the pain. Is there nothing that doesn’t hurt? Last night. Last night didn’t hurt. She opened the back door with Tobias still following. He clearly wanted better answers, more answers. Savvy walked out to the burn barrel, and the memory pounced on her: The smell of burning leaves wafting in the windows, and her daughter asleep, safe in her bed. It was late, too late for yard work, but Kal worked so hard during the day. She had walked into the freshly raked yard barefoot, the soft grass tickling her toes. He’d sat facing the barrel, which had a ridiculously high flame as it burned the yard debris. “I’ll have you know the ash from your insane fire is going to get all over my stuff,” she’d told him. He’d looked over his shoulder at her, smiled as he took a swig of his beer. “Your stuff? This is our stuff, baby. If I want to light it on fire, I’m gonna do it.” He’d reached his hand out for hers. She loved how big and warm he was, and she’d wrapped her fingers around his palm. He pulled until she fell off balance into his chair, settling on his lap. “Well, far be it from me to damp down your cheerleader, pep-rally tendencies.” Savvy had wrinkled her nose as she insulted him. He’d tickled her until she started slapping him. Finally, when her giggling had tapered off, he’d let his face get serious. “In all my days, I have never seen a sight as beautiful as you laughing. God, I love you so much.”

“You always have the best lines.” Savvy had been teasing, but she loved his words, his easy soul. “Whatever it takes to get you to kiss me.” His teeth had been so white when he smiled at her. She’d leaned up and kissed him, tasting the beer on his lips. Instead of kissing anyone, now she tossed her clothes in the barrel and tried to get them to take the flame. They wouldn’t. Tobias disappeared from her side. When he returned, he took the lighter from her hand and poured gasoline over her bloody garments. He pushed her back, farther away, and lit the bonfire. In the early, fresh-smelling morning, the flames seemed intrusive. But they matched the early sky perfectly. “Look at me. Look at me.” Tobias ducked his head to see her face. She reluctantly gave him her attention. “I don’t care what happened last night. I just want you safe. All this blood? Are you okay?” Savvy nodded. Unleashing on a man with some sort of superhuman power has made me a little better. She couldn’t tell him. “I’m not even going to ask why we’re burning clothes and bleaching cars like fucking serial killers; I just need you to be okay.” He paused for a moment. “You never talk about them. You never talk about the accident. You spend your days in a graveyard. What am I supposed to do here? Tell me and I’ll do it.” Tobias looked so intent on fixing her. “I can’t talk about…them.” She shrugged. Savvy didn’t want to spend the day silently crying again. “Well, what about me?” The fire raged up higher behind him. Savvy pulled his arm so he would be farther from the flames. He didn’t acknowledge her efforts. “I miss them. I miss Sara,” he said. At the sound of her daughter’s name, Savvy grabbed her middle. The pain sliced through her, through everything. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, but seeing you like this? It’s killing me. You need help. Let me get you help.” Tobias tried to hold her hand. Savvy turned and walked toward the house, ignoring her brother’s offer, his willingness to be there for her. She spent the day in her room, blocking out his stomping around. Night came, like it insisted on doing, and the darkness ignited her pain, her loneliness again. She wanted to think, to analyze what had happened to her. But she needed another hit. Though she couldn’t remember much, she knew without a doubt that brutalizing the man had given her peace, given her sweet reminders of her family. Savvy found another pair of heels in the back of her closet. She changed into jeans and a shirt, and slipping on the shoes gave her permission again. She began to feel powerful from her feet up. She climbed out through the same window she’d bleached clean earlier in the day. Savvy started her car and drove into the distance, not sure what she was going to find.

Chapter 4 And Soon Toby felt relatively certain Savvy hadn’t seen him watching from the window, and once she pulled away, he was out the door and on his motorcycle before he could lose sight of her car. She’s lost her mind. Again. Watching his sister crumple in the aftermath of the accident had been horrifying. Savvy used to be known for her quick retorts, easy smiles, and happy attitude. Now she was a ghost of a shadow. And Toby had started to get frustrated. He missed his brother-in-law and, God, he missed his niece so fucking much, but Savvy needed some growth, some change. Evidently she’d grown frustrated too. The first time he’d found her in the bathtub with a kitchen knife, he thought his heart would actually jump ship. Hours later, their good-for-nothing father had dropped by the hospital. Bruce had looked his son up and down before delivering his own diagnosis. “If you want to die, you don’t flop around in a bathtub. She’s not serious.” At that point Toby had asked his father to leave. Over the next six months, Savvy had tried twice more to kill herself. Finally, Toby sat her down. “Savvy, you’re still Kal’s wife and Sara’s mom. You can’t keep hurting the person they loved so very much.” He had squeezed her hand too hard as he spoke. He knew that. “I want to feel them again,” she’d finally said. “I can’t feel them anymore.” Her voice was so quiet, Toby had to lean closer to hear her. “Savvy, I can’t live life worried about you. Thinking of you killing yourself hurts me. You don’t love me enough? I’m your brother. Listen, let me move in, I’ll keep you company. The quiet has to be hard.” He’d tilted her chin until she saw him, saw his pain. “I’m sorry,” she’d said. “I’ll be stronger. I won’t do it again.” Tears fell from her eyes. And she’d agreed to let him move in. After that, Toby had to take her at her word, though it was tremendously difficult not to call her constantly from work. But as months went by her cuts healed into scars. His sister had never broken a promise to him in her life—whether it was to not eat her favorite candy out of his Easter basket or the vow she’d once made to come to every one of his football games. Savvy continued her vigils at the cemetery, but Toby had decided to take that as a positive. Now he watched as she used her car’s blinker and turned not toward the cemetery, but down the street that would take her to the worst part of town. Toby cut his headlight and followed her a little closer. His sister slowed down each time as she passed pedestrians. What the Hell? Everyone knows not to stop in this part of town. Finally, she seemed to have spotted what she wanted and pulled over to the curb. Three huge men approached her car with smiles as she got out on the driver’s side. Is she buying drugs? Toby cut his engine and parked his bike. He left his helmet on in his rush to get to his sister’s side.

One of the men spoke up as they drew near. “Here, kitty. Look at that, boys. We got curbside service.” Another began clapping and taunting her. “You lost, baby? ’Cause I know just what you’re looking for now.” Savvy spread her arms and laughed. Toby stopped. His sister sounded nothing like herself. Her voice was deep and hungry as she waved the men over. “Come and get it, assholes.” Toby sprinted as the first man reached Savvy. He grabbed a stray pole from a collapsed metal fence and wielded it like a baseball bat in hopes of defending his sister. We’re going to die. Savvy knocked the first guy flat with a three-punch combination as Toby arrived at her side. The second man came at her, and Savvy dropped low, swinging her leg to take out his knees. Toby heard a sickening, splashing crack as the man fell, screaming. Toby clocked the third guy across the face with his pipe, and Savvy turned and saw him for the first time. It was obviously her, but it wasn’t. She looked furious, and more alive than he’d seen her since the accident. Her eyes jumped wildly, and she snarled as she took the pipe away from him. Toby could do nothing but stare as she stood behind the third man and twisted the metal pipe around his throat. He began turning blue as Savvy panted with obvious pleasure. “What the hell is going on?” Toby refused to be afraid of her, though the first man she’d punched was now crawling away, looking over his shoulder as if Savvy were a monster. “Go home, Tobias. Get out of here. You weren’t supposed to see this.” Savvy took quick breaths and her eyes stilled and came back into focus. “I’m not leaving without you,” he countered. “And you have a fucking lot of explaining to do. Can you drive?” He led her by the arm back to her car. She nodded and got in as Tobias went back to his motorcycle and started it. He swung an illegal U-turn and followed Savvy. As they drove, he ran through the events again in his head but couldn’t make any sense of them. At least she’s alive. Back at home, Savvy parked the car, but didn’t get out. Toby pulled off his helmet and set the kickstand. They both just sat in the driveway. He wanted to feel his heart slow to a more reasonable rate. He assumed Savvy was doing the same. Finally his anger set him in motion, and he pulled on her door until she unlocked it. “You promised me! You promised me you wouldn’t try to kill yourself again.” Toby squatted so he could be eye level with her. Savvy’s hands were covered in blood, and her smile brought her face to life in a way he hardly remembered. She looked like she used to when Sara walked into the room. “Savvy?” Toby waited until the euphoria passed and his sister’s haunted look returned. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself. Something’s wrong with me. I don’t know how I do those things, and I can’t even control it. But after? I get to feel them. Tonight I could smell her hair and feel his laughter. It was perfect. I want more.” Savvy clenched her fists and looked around as if scanning for someone to attack. Toby ran his hands down his face. She was explaining nothing. “Move over.” He stood up.

“What? What do you mean?” She clenched the steering wheel again. “We’re going. Move to the passenger side.” Savvy let go and pulled her legs over the emergency brake, scooting across to give him control of the car. Toby eased his tall body into the driver’s seat. “Where are we going, Tobias? I need to go shower.” Savvy put her bloody hand on her window, leaving her handprint as a macabre request. He said nothing as he put the car in reverse. “Tobias?” Savvy began wringing her hands. Her brother didn’t respond. He just prayed Savvy didn’t know the way to the psychiatric hospital.

*~*~*~* Light from the surveillance tape flickered across Silas Sagan’s chiseled face as he watched the same clip over and over in a loop. “Do we know who she is?” He seemed to be speaking to himself, but soon a voice answered him through the dark. “No, sir. We have not identified her yet,” reported Bugs, his tech wizard. The man had large eyes and a slender build, and he moved into the light as he spoke. “When she came in, she didn’t have her driver’s license or anything,” the bouncer from the club added, stepping forward. Silas picked up a pen and put it in his mouth. “She attacked a man in one of my places of business. I need to know where to send her thank-you card.” He smirked with his sarcasm. “Well, there’s a partial license plate number in that shot,” Bugs noted. “If it can be found, I’ll find it. I just need a bit more time.” The bouncer’s eyes widened and he took two steps away from Bugs. He seemed to know wrath was coming. Silas wrapped his fist around the pen, and his knuckles turned white. “I don’t like waiting. You have one week. If I don’t know who she is by then, you’ll both start losing things that are precious to you.” The bouncer and Bugs nodded and left the room quietly. Silas flicked on his desk light now that he was alone. The surveillance tape from behind his building once more gave its unblinking rendition of the woman beating the living shit out a man like he was made of toothpicks and paper. He stood, brushing a bit of imaginary lint from his suit, which was impeccable and perfectly tailored. He rubbed the hint of stylish stubble on his jaw. He was devastatingly good-looking and carried himself like he knew it, because he did. His green eyes continued watching the beating without flinching, and without any sympathy for the victim. He ran his finger down the grainy image of the woman the way he would touch a lover. “You will be mine, you vicious bitch.” He was strangely, irrationally drawn to her. He bit his lip as he watched her merciless, flawless actions. The blurry last image was his favorite. She glanced toward the camera, covered in blood and smiling like a kid on Christmas morning. Silas Sagan always got what he wanted. He fully expected the woman to be delivered to his door. “And soon.”

Chapter 5 Patience When Savvy saw the sign for the hospital, she curled her hands into fists. The dried blood made her skin feel tight. Tobias pulled her car up to the entrance and put it in park. She reached for the door handle, determined not to make this difficult for him. He was probably right. This was where she needed to be. “Wait, Savs. Wait. Don’t leave yet.” Tobias put his clean hand over hers. She wanted to smile so he would know he was doing the right thing, but she could only stare out the windshield. “If you think this is where I belong, I’ll go.” She shrugged. Tobias sighed. “It seemed like the right thing to do back at the house. Now, not so much. You need to help and tell me why you attacked those men.” He took his touch from her and placed his hands on the steering wheel. Savvy sorted through her jumbled thoughts and memories for something that would make sense. Finally, she spoke. “They were bad. I just had to find them.” Tobias shook his head, and she could tell her answer had solved nothing for him. That made two of them. “Well, we can’t just assume that people in that part of town deserve to die. Savvy, you know better than that. And how were you so strong? Are you on meth or something?” Tobias searched her face. “It wasn’t where they lived, it’s how they’ve lived that brought me to them.” Savvy’s eyebrows knit. “I don’t know how I know that. And I’m not strong now. I mean, I can’t do anything special. I don’t know how I could before.” She pulled on the door handle with all her might, but it stayed safely fixed to the car. Grabbing his hair with both hands, Tobias looked like he was past his breaking point. “You know, they still haven’t identified the substance from accident, have they?” he finally said. “Maybe it’s having an effect on you.” Savvy started at the mention of the source of her pain and waved a hand in his direction, trying to cut him off. “No, don’t brush it off. You know what the doctors said after the accident—the substance isn’t just unusual, it’s never been seen before. Ever. You might have absorbed some of it—” She slapped the dashboard, desperate to silence him. “I don’t want to bring up the accident! It has nothing to do with tonight.” She paused and lowered her voice. “Let’s get to the reason we’re here. You want to commit me, right? Okay, let’s go. Won’t it be easier not wondering if your sister is lying in the tub with a knife? Won’t it be easier not having to start small talk with someone who doesn’t actually want to be alive anymore?” Savvy opened her door and got out. Tobias ran around the car and stopped her. “Yes, okay? Yes, it would be easier not to worry about you. And I do think you need help.” His face went soft as he pulled her into a hug. “I know you lost your family. I am so, so sorry. If I could give my life for theirs? I would do it. I wouldn’t think twice. But I can’t. And you’re the only family I have. I need to protect you, and I don’t even know how to do that

anymore. I’m not totally sure what I’m protecting you from.” Savvy patted his back and spoke into his shirt. “You can’t live this life for me, Tobias. My ups and downs are just that: mine. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I think you should either admit me here or move out of the house.” Tobias dropped his arms. “What? No. No! If those are my two choices then I pick here, this fucking place. I can’t come home to you dead. I can’t.” Savvy patted his chest. “I’m thankful for what you’ve done. You’re the best big brother a girl could have.” She stepped past him, trudged up the stairs, and pressed the buzzer on the door. Savvy hugged her arms as she waited. Then, just as a kind-looking woman opened the door, Tobias sprinted back up the stairs and hid Savvy’s hands in his own. “Don’t. Okay? We’ll figure it out. I don’t want you gone from my everyday.” Tobias thanked the lady, apologized for the inconvenience, and Savvy let him lead her back to the car. Once they’d pulled away, Tobias kept stealing glances at her, and she wondered if he now doubted his actions. Unsettled, she could not stop rubbing her arms. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” His face glowed green in the light of the car’s instruments. For a moment it reminded her of her victims’ red, glowing auras. Savvy shook her head. “You should have left me there. I’m not going to be able to stop.” She turned to look him in the eye. “I can’t stop; I crave it.” She looked out the window as the passing trees. In the nights after that, Tobias didn’t try to follow her anymore.

*~*~*~* “Bugs, you’ve had ample time to find her. Tell me why I still don’t have what I want?” One week later, Silas had the surveillance tape playing on its loop again. He’d decided it was a lucky charm for him, a touchstone. “Sir, I have located at least three possibilities.” Bugs was clearly nervous now. “I’m going to take some men and go check them out.” He gripped his own wrist. “I don’t like waiting. I hate giving a second chance,” Silas noted. “Find her. You know what’s at stake for you.” He leaned back in his chair and watched the clip again. In the light thrown by the moon, he could see her profile. She would be perfect. “I’m on it right now, sir. I understand. I’m gone. Right now.” Bugs backed out the door and closed it behind him. Silas squinted at the closed door and clicked his tongue. Patience is a virtue. His gaze flickered back to his current favorite part. He loved it when she broke the fourth limb, totally oblivious to the man’s open-mouthed screams. But vengeance is a bitch.

Chapter 6 The Letter Denis wasn’t well liked at work. His mid-level job at the Packaging Packers didn’t challenge him, nor did he challenge it. His company packed packing materials into packages, and Denis was a numbers man. He kept track of how many boxes went into other boxes. After twelve years with the company, he had not had the joy of a raise. Younger, less-experienced employees were promoted past him and seemed to leave him behind easily on the corporate ladder. He grumbled loudly and often that he was the spine of the corporation and was terribly underappreciated. But every new recruit soon learned that Denis Motte’s best talent was looking busy while he accomplished nothing. Stacks of papers shifted from one side of his desk to the other. Reports were misfiled, refiled, and lost. His computer screen had more shortcut icons to game apps on it than a porcupine had quills. After coming back from a long bathroom break, where he’d thoughtlessly short-sheeted the next poor bastard who would sit down, Denis spotted a letter on his desk. It looked formal and important. I’ve been promoted! His head filled with dreams as his chubby fingers tore into the envelope’s secrets. Fuck this cubicle! I’m getting an office, with a door. He unfolded the expensive paper to find a short letter: Salutations, Denis Motte,

This correspondence is to notify you of a slight change in your job description. We ask that our employees keep up their spirits in this hard time. To promote financial efficiency, Packaging Packers is reducing the paid hours of some of our employees. Your job function in the Department of Accounting will now be a part-time position, and 12 hours a week have been allotted for you to complete your job requirements. Please feel free to volunteer any extra needed hours. Thank you for your cooperation.

Sincerely,

Jeff Cordly Vice President, Personnel

His boss’s boss had emasculated him. Denis’s new paycheck would be less than half his current one. He curled the paper into a ball and tossed it into his trashcan. After a quick survey of his cube mates, Denis realized he was the only one affected in his department.

After spreading his inquisition wider, he learned he was the only one on his floor with new hours. Denis was furious. If he had been a man, a real man, he would have stomped into a bigwig’s office and demanded his hours back, or threatened to quit at the very least. But Denis wasn’t a real man. Hours later, as he pulled open his front door in the worst mood of his life, his hard, angry eyes landed on the sad slip of a woman standing in front of him with his robe in her hands and her head down. Mrs. Betty Motte had begun receiving beatings soon after her honeymoon with Denis ten years ago. She used to fight back, she used to speak up, but as his fists and kicks continually found their mark, eventually she lost her volume. He told himself she probably enjoyed it in her own way now. But even if she didn’t, he always had a reason when he got angry with her. She missed the easy things. He often told her that if she were just a little faster, more thoughtful, he would be able to sit and enjoy his time at home. Tonight he stood in the doorway breathing heavily, his eyes darting around the house to find something out of place. Betty’s eyes began darting too, and he bet she was going through her list of daily chores. After a moment her face froze, and she glanced at the end table. She forgot to dust! “You worthless whore. I work all damn day, and you sit here on your fat ass. You’re probably fucking one of the neighbors. Or the UPS man. That’s why you don’t have time for the dusting.” He slapped her hard, twice. Betty knew better than to cover her face, which just made him angrier. “Oh God,” she managed, her eyes half open. “If I tell you I’m not, you’ll say I’m lying. If I tell you I’m sorry, you’ll think I did.” The letter on Denis’s desk earlier in the day had already answered all of his questions for the evening, but of course Betty didn’t know that. “Pick one.” Only here did he feel powerful. Her fear made him strong. Denis stood, his eyes bugging out, until she answered. She hazarded a guess at what he might want to hear. “I’m sorry, honey. I love you. You work so har—” Her words were stolen as he punched her in the stomach. Twice. And then he really got going. By the time he tired, Betty had lost the strength to try to crawl away. “Quit your fucking moaning. You’re pissing me off.” Denis grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the foyer table and slammed out his front door. The air was cool, but he didn’t want to go back in for his jacket. “Fucking bitch,” he mumbled as he lit his smoke. The first drag was long and satisfying. He looked up at the stars. It was a gorgeous night. By the time he heard the high heels clacking on the cement sidewalk, the woman wearing them was a stone’s throw away. He’d forgotten to turn on his porch light in his haste to taste nicotine on the back of his tongue. So he couldn’t make out her face. “You need directions or something?” Denis liked her silhouette. She had some meat on her bones, not like his skinny-ass wife. She walked closer. “Can I bum one?” Denis fumbled as he tried to be suave. The woman smelled like a real woman should. “Here you go.” He held one out to her. Instead of taking it in her hand, she leaned down and wrapped her lips around it. Dumbfounded, his dick hardened. He managed to apply the flame to the business end—of the cigarette.

Rather than inhaling, like she should have, the woman pulled the cigarette out of her mouth and held it while it glowed. “Your aura is so red, it looks like fresh blood,” she told him. “Have you been a bad boy recently? Don’t lie.” She twirled the cigarette as the orange tip got longer. Christ, I haven’t been hit on in forever. If this chick doesn’t want a piece of me, I’ll bend Betty over the couch when I get inside. “I’ve been a very bad boy.” He tried to be sexy, and the woman started smiling. Her teeth were so white they almost glowed in the dark. “I know you have, asshole.” She grabbed the back of his neck so fast, he couldn’t even move his hands to defend himself. The cigarette he had so thoughtfully given her was now inches from his left eyeball. “I feel like you need things in twos, douche bucket.” His screams lit up the night as she pressed the red-hot embers into his eyelid. He lashed out, but it felt like he was hitting a tank instead of a woman. She pulled the burning stick back and gave his right eyelid the same treatment. Denis fell to his knees, wondering if Betty was watching from inside. He no longer felt powerful at all.

Chapter 7 Daytime Hunting It turned out that people with red auras weren’t that common, which was good for society as a whole, but bad for Savvy. Over the last month she had begun to see other colors surrounding people as well, but nothing called to her like red. Beating the ever-living shit out of scumbags was now her addiction, and the dwindling supply forced her to take more chances, get farther away from her home. The aura had to be red —she’d learned that the hard way. Savvy had stopped for an orange aura a couple nights ago and received a shock when she realized mid-fight that she wasn’t quite as strong. She’d barely escaped, and now she knew: she could only partake in her new pastime when faced with a true villain, the redder the better. Also, the payoff was shorter, more fleeting the less red she saw. A hint of the smell of her daughter’s neck, remembering the slope of Kal’s forearm when he shifted gears, it wasn’t enough. She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, keeping the other on the steering wheel as the cruised a neighborhood street. She’d started prowling during the day as well to increase her chances at scoring, though she knew it wasn’t great idea. Tobias wasn’t talking to her anymore. She couldn’t blame him. It had been four weeks since her first attack on the man in the bar. Tonight she would ask him again to move out, and it wasn’t a conversation she looked forward to. She felt selfish and ungrateful, but she didn’t want him keeping track of her. The money from the insurance company would keep her living frugally for a few years without having to work. So Tobias’s income as a mechanic was unnecessary, for now. Savvy had driven aimlessly out of the neighborhood and back onto a main drag when she saw what she desired most in the world: a bright red aura. She had to pull herself out of the trance the color put her in to see her surroundings. She willed herself to remain aware of what happened around her. A daytime beating required restraint, which wasn’t her strong suit with a red aura in the mix. The asshole stood in the woods just a few feet away from a fence. He was dressed in full camouflage, but the red made him easy pickings for her. His aura seemed particularly predatory. What the hell is he doing? He looked like he was waiting for something. Savvy put the car in park. To get to him she had to cross a field or drive around behind him and make her way through the woods. Gripping the steering wheel, she assessed the area. This is a school? Yes. There was a playground and the telltale brick building. A school bell sounded in the distance, and a flood of children came out of the doors. They brought the man with the red aura to full attention, his glow rippling in anticipation. Savvy popped open her door and ran as fast as she could. I’ll get this bastard. As she ran, she saw a police cruiser out of the corner of her eye. The teachers who had followed the kids out to recess began blowing their whistles, calling the children back into the building. The sight of a madwoman bolting across the recess field had caused appropriate alarm.

Savvy didn’t care. The asshole had locked eyes with her, and he turned and ran into the woods. She should have slowed down, tried to appear a little normal, but the mother in her mixed with whatever supercharged crazy was running her life now and had taken over. That man with a red aura had been looking at children. There was no stopping now. She vaulted the fence and navigated the trees easily, quickly. The police siren lit up the afternoon and seemed to be coming from all directions. She closed in on the man soon enough; he was no match for a hunting Savvy. When she was close enough, she pushed him from behind. He tumbled forward and landed propped awkwardly against a tree. A wet stain spread across his pants. He was scared. Savvy took a deep breath of his fear, and it felt like falling in love. His aura pulsed angrily. She would break every bone. Every bone. The footfalls behind her put a damper on her fix, though his aura still called to her. Her hands began to shake. I can’t beat him here. Shit. Her whole body gave in to the tremors. He was so close, so red. Let me hurt him, oh God. It hurts not to hurt him. The police came closer, stepping cautiously. You can’t go to jail, she told herself. Tobias would hate that. And you might injure the cops by accident. Savvy needed more practice not acting on her impulse, and she wasn’t currently sure she was strong enough. She took small steps until she stood next to the aura’s twisted body. He dared to talk. “I was just looking. I love kids. I was just looking.” Savvy grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and he shouted in pain. Don’t tear him up. Don’t break him. She put her mouth close to his ear and was so very tempted to bite it off. “If you ever look at a child again, I’ll know. And I’ll find you.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed as hard as she could. The bone structure collapsed and was as easy to crumple as piece of paper. But his aura didn’t budge. He was an intensely evil man. Summoning every bit of restraint she’d ever possessed, Savvy put him face down on the ground. She rested one foot on the back of his neck and waited for either the police to show up or her control to falter.

*~*~*~* Silas looked across his desk at Bugs, who was once again seated in his office. Based on Silas’s posture, an onlooker might have assumed there was a pleasant business meeting occurring. There wasn’t. Bugs sat on his hands. He’d spent weeks trying to solve this puzzle, but he had failed. And failure wasn’t an option. He’d expressed his desire to vomit, so a wastepaper basket now sat at his feet. Silas’s suit was impeccable, his hair just so. He smiled at his uneasy employee. “Tell me how much time I’ve given you again?” Silas spun the globe on his desk with his long middle finger. “Ample time, sir. I do have developments I would like to share—” Silas held up one hand. “Either you’ve failed or you’ve succeeded. Is the woman here?” “No, sir.” Bugs’s chair groaned as he shifted. Silas picked up the remote on his desk and pointed it at the painting above the fireplace. With the click

of a button, the soothing picture evaporated. In its place a screen revealed an older woman making her way down the aisle at a grocery store. “Mom!” Bugs’s eyes were suddenly wild. “Keep watching, please.” Silas nodded, and watched the man’s eyes grow even bigger. In the frozen department, a gentleman pushed a cart up the aisle. Bugs went sheet white, clearly recognizing him, though his face was impossible to see. Silas’s organization had one legend—besides Silas himself. The assassin was extremely effective. His mere existence had gotten Silas his way in more than one business deal. The deadly man pulled his cart up next to the older woman’s. There was no audio, but he said something because Bugs’s mother turned to look at him and smiled. Silas paused the screen. Bugs was sweaty and seemed to be trying not to cry. He leaned forward and took advantage of the trash can. “So tell me your developments now.” Silas put on his best bored look. Bugs wiped his mouth and looked from the paused screen to his boss’s face. He seemed desperate to put his words together. “Uh…there have been reports of men being beaten in a…the same…type of beating…” He stopped to dry heave in the trash can again. After that his words were clearer. “Okay, some men have been admitted to the hospital with similar injuries. Some have been letting me know their friends were injured but they couldn’t go to the hospital, because they were wanted by the police already. She seems to be choosing the worst of the worst out there. She has yet to kill anyone—that I can find, anyway.” He paused then, but Silas motioned for him to continue. Lucky for him, Bugs had more to say. “A Denis Motte was beaten on his front lawn, in front of his wife, few weeks ago. He was the only one who didn’t have a record. He was very forthcoming with information and also gave me a great description. I was able to draw this composite sketch.” He dug in his pocket and unfolded the drawing. “Can I give this to you, sir?” Silas nodded once and took the pencil drawing from Bugs’s shaking hand. Barely looking at it, he flipped it over to the blank side as if it was of no consequence. “So, we know what she looks like,” Bugs continued, his voice a little tentative. “She seems to wear high heels in every incident, and she smiles a lot. The men say she’s abnormally strong.” Silas put his fist to his lips. Bugs looked at the floor now, having reached the end of his report. Sighing, Silas hit play on the frozen video feed, and Bugs braced himself, as if for a punch. Having the assassin that close to his mother was no doubt akin to seeing her wrapped in hundreds of poisonous snakes. He could kill her so very quickly. Bugs’s mother nodded, looked at her watch, and presumably gave the assassin the time. Then the video stopped, and Silas pressed the button that turned Bugs’s greatest fear back into a pretty picture. “Bugs, call me on this phone—” Silas held up his expensive cell phone for clarification. “—with the girl’s whereabouts within twenty-four hours. And this is the last twenty-four hours you’ll get.” Bugs shot out of his chair like a dog being let off a leash. “Thank you so much, Mr. Sagan. I’ll get her. Soon. Very soon.” He walked quickly to the office door. Silas turned his chair away from his retreating employee. “And one more thing,” he added quietly.

Bugs halted. “I’ve had to wait longer than I care to for what I want. If you fail? Your mother will have to wait for death longer than she cares to. You know the assassin loves to try out new techniques.” Bugs turned around, but was too horrified to respond. Silas waved his hand and smiled as he left.

*~*~*~* Savvy was sweating by the time the cops reached the spot in the woods where she had pinned the pedophile to the ground. They came at her, spouting all the requisite lawful warnings, guns drawn. She held up her hands and stepped away from the writhing man. Her gaze remained fixated on her prey, and she hated to trust anyone else to deliver justice. Finally, she looked up and was struck speechless by the sight in front of her. The cops had visible auras of their own. They were surrounded by sparkling, golden light. It was peace—good people doing the right thing. Savvy felt so grateful to them for doing their jobs. In that moment she learned that the good auras could be as bright as the bad ones. She knelt when they told her to, and a female officer patted her down. When the situation was under control to the police officers’ satisfaction, Savvy described seeing the asshole looking at the kids and deciding to track him down. After going through the pedophile’s pockets, the cops found his ID and called in his description. “Well, Jim, looks like you’re a sex offender who hasn’t registered in years.” The male cop nodded at Savvy and led Jim toward the cruiser in cuffs. The minute Jim was secured, his red aura went out like a light. Savvy gasped at the sudden relief and return of her self-control. The female officer walked with her back toward the fence. “We’ll need you to come down to the station and give your statement.” After they had both climbed over the metal mesh, the officer continued talking. “I have to thank you, though. My little boy goes to this school. To me, you’re a hero. I know a lot of other parents will want to say thank you too.” “I’d prefer to stay quiet about the whole thing, if that’s okay. I mean, if anyone deserves thanks, it’s you guys.” Savvy looked at her feet. She wanted to find a way to be alone, to see if she could still feel Kal and Sara. “Well, I’ve never seen anyone move that fast in my whole life. You must be a mom running on pure adrenaline.” They arrived at Savvy’s car. Savvy didn’t want to cry, not now, but the word mom started her sanity disintegrating. She whispered as she looked over the roof of her car. “I used to be.” Savvy opened her door and got in. She started the car and rolled down the window. The female cop was even gentler now, seeming to have read the deeper meaning in Savvy’s words. She patted her on the shoulder. As the cop turned away, Savvy stopped her. “Could I drop by the station a little later?” she asked softly. “Yeah, that’s okay. Go home, relax a bit, then come on down.” The cop nodded her permission. “And also? When your little boy comes home from school? You hug him. Hug him so hard.” Savvy felt a tear slip through her tight grasp on her emotions.

“Will do. I promise.” Savvy drove away, counting the moments until she could be home and able to focus on feeling her reward. She swiped the flood that always followed the first tear. At the stoplight she leaned forward and pointed at the sky. “That one was for you, Sara.”

*~*~*~* Silas sat for a while before he gave in to the temptation to look at Bugs’s drawing more closely. He finally flipped the page over and couldn’t stop the rush of excitement. She would be an excellent acquisition. Everything about her face belied her clearly violent tendencies. She had full lips and large eyes. Her hair was thick and hung in dark, curling waves with hints of red. Bugs was excellent at many things, and Silas was pleased to see that his portrait skills were extraordinary. He’d even managed to capture the essence of the woman, as described by her victim: her picture radiated truth, rightness, and bliss. I want her so much.

Chapter 8 Just Like Saturday Morning Swerving into the driveway, Savvy parked her car and ran upstairs to her bedroom. She could feel them coming, the tangible memories that were her oxygen. She crawled into her bed and closed her eyes. It seemed more real when she couldn’t see the empty room. She held her breath and waited. It took all her energy to keep her eyes closed when she heard the familiar pitter-pat of Sara’s feet. “Can I get in, Mommy?” Savvy nodded, but kept her eyes closed. And then her arms were full of her baby. Sara’s hair tickled her nose. Her warm body molded so perfectly to her side. Savvy had always laughed at how completely her girl could snuggle in, like Sara still had claim to some of her womb’s real estate. Savvy hummed her daughter’s lullaby and after a moment had the complete satisfaction of hearing her girl’s deep, contented sleep noises. She knew her tears would drench her pillowcase, but this was the most intense memory yet. It felt so good it hurt. And then there was more. She thought she might not be able to take it when she felt the mattress give under Kal’s weight. Oh, please, yes. Him too. She couldn’t make out the mumbles he whispered into her hair, but she could feel his arm finding its perfect home in the curve of her hip. He, too, was soon sleeping. And she was wrapped in them, like they’d never been taken. Like God knew that this, just this, was the only thing her heart understood. Savvy began to feel the security of bliss, like she could slip into dreams with them. Please, let me go like this, in my sleep. Don’t make me wake up without them again. Never again. Then Tobias slammed the front door, and she could feel the connection with her family evaporating. Don’t go! No, you’re not leaving. She tried to hang onto them, but her hands found only balled-up sheets when she searched. She could hear Tobias bounding up the stairs, looking for her. Go away, Tobias. Let them stay. When he tossed open her door, she kept her eyes shut tight. But they were gone. Like smoke. Like fog. Like a dream. “Sav, are you okay? What’s wrong? Look at me. Look at me!” Rage. She slapped the empty space in her bed. “They were here. You ruined it! You ruined it for me. Goddamn it, Tobias!” She launched herself from the bed. She made her fists into tight testaments of her anger. Tobias’s aura was faintly gold so she knew she wouldn’t be strong enough. And even in her horrific rage, she knew he wasn’t evil. He barely even tried to hold her arms as she rained punches on his shoulders, his chest, and finally, connected with his jaw. He

gritted his teeth and turned his head, offering her his other cheek as well. Her fists dropped to her sides, and she waited. Tobias was a wonderful man, but he wasn’t beyond his own anger. His voice was quiet but sharp. “Never have you ever laid a hand on me, Savvy. Not even when we were kids.” She wanted to hug him. She wanted to comfort him, but she turned to face her empty bed instead. “I think it would be best if you left.” If he was gone, she could lay with them for hours, for days, if they would just stay. “I’m not leaving you like this. Something’s so wrong. I made a mistake when I took you home. I see that now. You need the hospital.” Tobias stepped toward her. Make him leave. She turned and made her face cold, uncaring. “You’re here to watch the show? To pretend you’re the one who lost your family? Because you didn’t. You can’t have them. You can’t claim my grief as yours anymore. Maybe you’re between girlfriends. Maybe you’re just like Dad and you’re selfish, living on my property, getting a free ride.” She could tell he didn’t buy it. “This isn’t you. This isn’t who you are, Savvy.” She grabbed the lamp and tossed it against the wall. It shattered. “Yes, this is me now. Your Savvy? She died in that accident. I’m throwing you out. Now. Leave or I’ll call the police and have you removed as a trespasser.” She looked at her feet. He was quiet. He was angry. “You’re my only family.” Pretending to hate him wouldn’t get her very far; she was a terrible liar. She tried another approach. “I know one thing for sure: I’m not going to stop. I have to see them. Just now, when you came in? They were in the bed with me. Just like a Saturday morning. I’ll kill for that. I will die for that. I don’t want to bring you down with me to where I have to go. Does that make any sense? Let me save you from me. I couldn’t save them from me. Please, just let me save you.” “What do you want?” Tobias waited. “I need time by myself. To figure this out. I need to face that they’re gone. With the house empty, I’ll know I’m alone.” She hugged her middle. “I want to trust you. I’m scared shitless, but I’ll go. For tonight anyway.” He held his arms open. She walked into his embrace and patted his back. Her mind should have been on this, her brother, but it was on her bed. Maybe I can get them back.

*~*~*~* Bugs’s computer didn’t look like much, but as he tapped the keys, other people’s secret information was revealed to his hungry, worried eyes. When the officer typed her report on her bugged computer at the station, her description of the Good Samaritan’s sprint and restraint of the convicted pedophile had triggered his web of alarms. He’d saved it to his own computer and prepared to move. He now put the laptop on the passenger seat and started to drive. The officer kept impeccable records, and her description of the woman—who was to come in to give her statement—was very close to the sketch he’d drawn for Mr. Sagan. He had to make it to the station to

intercept her.

*~*~*~* Savvy couldn’t get them back, no matter how still she stayed. She’d received her reward and would have to earn another. Sitting up, she found her phone, called down to the station, and told them she would be in soon. The only thing motivating her to keep her word was the prospect of red auras. Criminals go to the police station all the time. She’d been stupid not to consider it as a source before. She parked her car in the lot and tucked her keys in her pocket. She’d left her purse and phone at home in a calculated move; Savvy was reluctant to let the cops have her information on file. She moved toward the building, but an aura across the parking lot drew her in immediately. The man leaned against a sports car, watching her. Red. Yes. She almost ran as she felt herself growing powerful. Kal and Sara would in be her arms again tonight, and she couldn’t wait. His words stopped her. “Your brother’s name is Toby, right? I ran your plates so I have your address and, after some hacking, his place of business.” “What do you want?” Savvy had to bite her tongue. Her fingers wanted to tear him apart. “My boss would like to meet you.” Bugs looked above her head, rather than at her, like he really didn’t want to do what he was doing. “Your brother is being followed as we speak. If you want to keep him alive, you’ll get in my car and refrain from snapping me in half.” Savvy was quite certain she would crack his skull against the steering wheel before they even got out of the parking lot, but she got in when he held open the passenger door.

Chapter 9 Cracked Sitting in a car had never been this tough before. God, it was so hard. That red aura demanded a pounding, with or without the reward she hoped would follow. Savvy sat on her hands and tried counting the trees that passed. This failed to calm her. She peeked at the driver. He seemed pretty shaky too. When he spoke, she jumped. “My name’s Bugs. I handle the computers and surveillance cameras at the house.” Savvy was afraid to talk. She didn’t want him to talk. She was so very close to losing control. Any insult, any tidbit of evil-doing would tip her over the edge. The clock ticked off twenty painful, but silent, minutes on the dashboard. They were heading toward the beach; she could smell the change in the air coming through the vents. Bugs pulled out this phone and hit send. With her currently enhanced senses, Savvy could hear everything coming from the device. Thanks, red aura. The ringing stopped, but the person on the other end of the call said nothing. Bugs filled the silence with hurried words. “Yes, I have her right here. She came peacefully. Do you want her delivered straight to your bedroom?” Bugs’s hand clenched and unclenched around the phone. Savvy heard the silky reply as if the man speaking was whispering in her ear. “No. Put her in the Blue Room. Bring her through the back entrance.” The phone clicked as Bugs’s boss hung up. Another ten minutes passed before Bugs pulled up in front of a gated entrance. He lowered both their windows, and a screen appeared from the ground on each side of the car. Bugs put his hand out and a laser tasted his fingerprints. Savvy imagined tearing the screen from its pole and beating him with it. Steady, girl. “Put your hand up to the screen, please.” Bugs waved in the direction of the technology. Savvy turned her head slowly and met his eyes. “Kiss my ass. I’m not putting my hand on that thing.” Bugs looked from the clock to his phone, seeming to run through his options. “Look, if you don’t put your hand out soon, this car will be lit up with gunfire. It’s programmed to kill us.” Savvy smiled at the thought of Bugs being physically separated from his evil aura. “Okay, I get it. You don’t care if I die. You don’t care if you die, but my boss? If he doesn’t talk to you because you’re dead? He’ll kill your brother.” Bugs pointed to the screen again. He could very well be lying, but the sweat on his forehead told her he was at least scared. She shook her head. She’d already lost two battles: getting in the car and now this. She placed her hand on the square. The laser engaged, and it felt like a butterfly’s wings were tickling her palm. She was marked in their system now. Who knew what they could do with her fingerprints. The gates slid open, and Bugs gunned the engine. Even before opening fully, the doors were closing again. The driveway was insanely long, and the landscape grew more and more sandy as they got closer to the house, which nestled next to the water. Bugs was talking again—warning her with rules and etiquette that she guessed she should listen to, but she couldn’t. The mansion in front of her called her

name and enflamed her enhanced sense of righteousness. With the compass she now had for evil, she could tell there were many, many red auras inside. So many. She looked at her knees and tried to breathe. Bugs was opening his door. He had parked the car on a huge circular driveway with a spouting fountain in the center of it. “We need to go in the back entrance, so you’re not seen.” He had come around to her side of the car. Savvy got out and walked past him. He hurried alongside, begging her to follow him, though he was too smart to put his hands on her when she didn’t. Savvy’s high heels clicked loudly on the marble stairs that led to the two-story front doors. When she was close enough, she kicked the doors and smiled when they smashed wide open. She waltzed into the foyer and looked from person to person. Almost every man had a gun out or was in the process of drawing a weapon. The women stifled screams and hit the floor. Savvy tracked a potential path of destruction, wondering how many she could tear to pieces before their bullets felled her. A man jumped in front of her and stood between her and the men defending the mansion. “No! He wants this chick alive. Put your fucking guns away.” The man’s neck was Savvy’s only view at the moment, and she wanted to snap it in half. But his aura was confusing. It was definitely red, but closer to his body it glimmered gold. She reached out to touch it. The red exterior radiated heat, and it fed her strength, but a little deeper, the gold felt cool. His peculiar aura may have been the only thing that kept him alive while he stood so close. He turned to her. “I take it you’re the new one? He wants you in the Blue Room. My name’s Boston. I’ll show you the way.” He had dark hair and deep blue eyes. When he smiled to encourage her, he revealed dimples as well. She didn’t move. The onslaught of red auras had taken her sense. Her eyes were drawn to each of them again. Several of the women also glowed red. To be loose in here for five minutes would be amazing. Her brother’s name brought Boston’s face back into focus. “Toby will only be safe if you cooperate.” The gold turned darker around the man. What was that? “Can you walk with me?” he asked. He wasn’t being polite. She knew he could tell she was paralyzed from the inside out. Savvy had to recover. She had to. Tobias’s life might depend on it. She looked at the floor and nodded, keeping her gaze down, away from all the temptation around her. But her skin still felt the red. She could feel the pull. One step, another step. It took forever to get to the Blue Room. Finally Boston opened a large door, and Savvy noticed belatedly that Bugs had left. Like his namesake, he’d disappeared when the action started. “Just go in and sit down.” Boston closed the door behind her, and she heard a large bolt slide into place. Savvy couldn’t sit if she tried, so instead she stood in front of the conference table, hedged in fancy boardroom chairs. She waited. The room was blue, as she’d expected. Its only decoration was a large mural of the surf. Savvy figured the real thing was right behind the mansion. She waited some more. She had no idea how much time had passed now. She knew this was a mind game, and frankly she sucked at those. There was so little of her rational mind left. Finally, the mural crackled to life. Savvy stepped into her fighting stance and watched. Instead of a

picture, she now looked at a flat screen TV—much like the ones Tobias ogled in Best Buy as he dreamed of hitting the lotto. Soon it had a picture again, and it took a few seconds for Savvy to put the images in context. She could see Tobias on the very screen he dreamed of buying. He was parking in the lot at the police station and dialing his cell phone. After what must have been an unsuccessful call, he cursed. Although there was no sound, Savvy recognized her name on her brother’s lips. He spotted her car and trotted over. The video faded out as Tobias used his elbow to break her driver’s side window. The mural returned. They weren’t bluffing. Someone from this place was watching her brother. As she pondered this predicament, screaming filled her head, and Savvy fell to one knee while holding her hair. The sound was so clear and so desperate. She recognized it immediately. It was Sara’s scream during the accident. Savvy hadn’t heard it since that night—her brain had saved her from recalling it. Or maybe it was her soul’s survival instinct that kept her protected from the sound. Until now. Sara, scared and screaming, filled Savvy to the brim. “No, no, no, no…” she whispered. The screaming became a pinpoint, the center of a black hole located just behind the mural. Savvy snapped her head up and looked closely. She could make out his outline. A man stood on the other side of the mural in another room. Sara’s screams came from him. Rather than being visible, his aura was the sound of her pain.

*~*~*~* Silas stood in his office waiting, watching Bugs’s surveillance camera. The girl’s name was Savannah Ann Raine. So much could be determined from a license plate number, and her fingerprints had confirmed it. After so much time looking for her, it turned out they already had her in their system. She’d been the lone survivor of an accident with one of their trucks more than a year ago. Funny how life worked sometimes. And she had deliberately defied him and kicked down the front doors of his house. Silas bit his lip as he watched her entrance again on the monitor. Boston had worked his magic and calmed the beast that she was. Now she stood instead of sitting in the Blue Room. Antagonizing him yet again. God, that’s refreshing. He’d watched her fidget for 18 minutes before he had Bugs run the footage of her brother’s arrival at the police station. He loved the locale. It let his new acquisition know he was everywhere, his power more potent than any law. She’d looked furious and worried by the time the painting returned to its passive seascape. He’d checked his hair and straightened his tie, though both were surely impeccable. He’d nodded at Boston as he entered the observation room behind the mural and shut the door behind him. But the minute he’d entered the small, narrow room, Savannah had fallen to one knee in obvious pain. At first he’d just been fascinated to see this seemingly invincible woman in such a vulnerable position. The room was well wired, so he heard her whimpering whisper: “No, no, no, no.” After another moment, he decided to call Doc. Savannah seemed like she might need medical attention. Then she looked up, right through the two-way glass and into his eyes. She scarcely seemed human. Her hair was wild from where she’d dragged her hands through it, and her face set in determination. Silas licked his lips. It was like watching a hungry tiger in a zoo.

When she came at him, her movements were flawless, as if she’d choreographed them and practiced for weeks. She grabbed the back of one of the chairs and stepped to the mural. The chair didn’t make a dent on its first downward strike, but Savannah didn’t stop. She kept pounding on the bulletproof screen until it started to crack. Boston stepped into Silas’s private sanctuary. “Sir, you need to get out of here.” Boston pulled out his handgun and aimed it at her. Silas waited. Her gaze had never left his eyes, like she could see right into his mind. The screen cracked again, a sure fissure now running from the top to the bottom. She was actually going to break through the impenetrable glass. Finally, she dropped the chair. She walked to the mural and put one hand on it. Silas mimicked her motion despite Boston’s protests. Hand-to-hand they stood, and he could feel her hot hate. This close to her, he could see into her cloudy, gray eyes. They held so much pain. Could he be the source? The accident with its terrible chemical spill? Silas almost felt sympathy. But more than that he felt something else—something more familiar: Want. Need. He was drawn to her in a desperate way. Her perfect lips, rose-colored from her exertion, began moving. He hoped the camera was still functioning so he could replay her words again and again. Her voice was reverent, a promise wrapped in a threat. “Know this: I will kill you. Take these words and carve them on your horrible soul.” She looked from his lips to his eyes and smiled. “I will be the one who kills you.”

*~*~*~* Savvy could only see sand and a stationary ocean, but she could feel his eyes. She knew where his lips were as if they were the center of her universe. Her daughter screamed over and over in her head while she promised to kill the man who stood inches from her. He’d made Sara scream somehow. She knew it. It was him. Instead of hugging her daughter’s memory and feeling her soft hair, Savvy could now remember agony as crisply as if it were happening again. She stepped away to muster enough power to punch. Feeling the glass crunch under her fists was much more pleasing than the chair attack had been. She was making headway. Then it hit her: if he’s on the other side, there’s a door. She gave away her intention as she headed for the exit to the Blue Room. She leveled her kicks at the door’s sweet spot, but the bolt held for a few extra seconds. Finally, with a crack she was free, and she turned toward the most likely place for a secondary room. The door stood ajar, and the narrow room was empty when she looked inside. Savvy closed her eyes as she heard the clatter of approaching defenders. She focused on the red she knew their auras held, and Sara’s screams led the way. Savvy ran without hesitation down hallways she had never seen before. The screams led her to a terrace, and she busted through the glass doors to stand on a balcony. The ocean crashed against the shore below her, in motion and alive. From the roof she heard a helicopter’s blades pounding the air. She tilted her face to see it rise above the house. The man who emanated Sara’s screams sat in the passenger seat looking right at her. Right into her.

He was devastatingly handsome, and he offered her a bit of a smirk as he realized he would succeed in getting away. Behind her, she could hear the army of red auras level all types of weapons. She paid them no mind; she was trapped in the eyes of the evil man above her. He waved at her now as the helicopter began to rise. Savvy pointed at him from where she stood. She mouthed her next words so only he would get her message. “Run. Run far. I’ll find you. I’ll always find you.” Savvy smiled as his triumphant demeanor fell like a leaf from a tree. In heartbeat he was gone from her sight. She turned to face the angry mob. There was so much red she couldn’t even make out their faces. Savvy gave them the finger and did a perfect backflip off the fourth-story balcony.

Chapter 10 Superhero Savvy’s heels sunk into the sand as she landed. The contingency of evil clambered out onto the balcony to point their weapons down at her. But in an instant, she changed her line of sight from the threat above to the man in front of her. He once again held a hand up in their direction. Savvy guessed his controlling gesture was yet again the reason she wasn’t already riddled with gunfire. Boston didn’t pounce on her, but he did start talking. “Listen, I know you can easily run away right now, but I have to tell you, my boss keeps all of his promises. If he threatened your brother, he’ll be dead by the time you get to the main road.” Now he held an open palm in her direction. He had no weapon in his hand, but the one he was using on her brain kept her still. He seemed to take her motionlessness as a cue to go on. “My boss wants you to stay. He wants you to remain in this house. You can do with that what you want, but I have to let you know he’s very, very serious before you make your choice.” The gold closest to Boston’s body shimmered in the light, but the red outlining his aura remained a thick swipe of color, almost as if a child had colored it in on the edges. The idea of staying in this house was laughable, honestly. The car ride over with Bugs had been torture. To stay here, amongst the red? Surely she would lose her mind and her control. Nevertheless… “I want my brother safe.” She couldn’t bear any more loss. “Then stay. That’s all you have to do.” Boston put his hands in his pockets, as if she were not a threat at all. As if she hadn’t busted through the doors like a cracked-out demon. He stood waiting for her decision as the others mulled around looking ravenous and confused at the same time. The waves crashed with a pounding regularity. The ocean was angry, demanding. It sounded like a heartbeat. There really was no choice, not now. She had to work with what she knew. They had her by the throat until she could assess the threat to Tobias and eliminate it. “Fine, I’ll stay.” Savvy rubbed her hands over one another, feeling like she’d just signed away her soul to the Devil. Boston raised one eyebrow and motioned to the deck. She had to step on her tiptoes to keep her heels from impaling the sand again. The stone deck was elaborate and multi-tiered, including two hot tubs and a pool filled to the brim. Sheer luxury. Savvy stepped through a set of open French doors and waited as Boston locked up behind them. She couldn't help but think he was sealing their joint fate as well.

*~*~*~* Twenty minutes later, Silas arrived at the airport in the helicopter. The jet awaited him, ready to depart,

and the staff greeted him with fear rippling just below their skin. He liked his employees ready and scared. He wouldn’t do business any other way. As he collapsed into the jet’s couch, the wheels started rolling. His stewardess smiled as she came closer, holding his iPad like a crown for a king. He took it without acknowledging her. Bugs had sent streaming audio and video reports of his new acquisition. Silas watched as Savannah threatened him all over again, though he could only see her face in profile. He had to use his own recall of her eyes as she’d promised to kill him. He smirked as she gave his minions the finger and registered the same surprise as his employees had when she backflipped, apparently to her death. Bugs threaded seamlessly into the next camera’s bounty: Boston stopping his fools from killing the woman and convincing her to step into his home. After he’d caught up with his latest success, he watched it all again. Savannah clearly hated him desperately, rabidly. Could she know he was involved in the crash? Impossible. He’d covered every one of his tracks. And yet… He put the knuckle of his first finger between his teeth while he contemplated her. Oh, the places we’ll go, Savannah. The things you will do for me. He felt need between his legs and snapped once in the stewardess’s direction. She arranged herself, and he looked out the window as the clouds caressed the jet much like the woman now caressed his dick. His only word for her was demeaning, but she reacted with much pleasure: “Swallow.”

*~*~*~* Savvy followed Boston through the huge house, past door after door, her heels clicking loudly on the marble. The army of red-auraed people snuck looks at her as she passed. She could barely see their faces past the red glow. She wasn’t ready for this kind of temptation. To be presented with such a buffet was staggering. She grabbed her wrists behind her back and bit the inside of her cheeks. She would never last here with her new lust for vengeance. She didn’t have this kind of control. Just don’t let go. Boston began climbing a staircase that took them two floors up. It continued on, but he motioned for her to follow him down a carpeted hallway. As she did, Savvy took in the cameras, desperate to focus on something other than the auras. They were obvious, and they were everywhere. Finally they reached what appeared to be Boston’s room. He walked right through it and opened what looked like a closet door, but instead led to another suite. “This is where you’ll be staying,” he told her. “I’ll be right there—” He pointed at the door. “—if you need anything, Savannah. You’ll find the closet is stocked with clothes, and the bathroom should have everything you need, at least for tonight.” Savvy looked around. This was to be her well-appointed cage. She opened the closet, which was full of shoes—all colors, all styles, all expensive. Savvy touched the closest pair: black satin with a big bow on the toe. “He wasn’t sure of your size, so there are lots of choices in there.” Boston seemed uncomfortable. Savvy clicked her tongue and stepped over to the balcony doors, so similar to the ones she’d broken. She opened them without violence this time. The sea air was so familiar. Savvy closed her eyes. Boston spoke from behind her. “Savannah, he’ll know—if you leave, if you jump. So just stay. That’s my advice, for what it’s worth.” “Call me Savvy, for what it’s worth,” she replied.

The black lacquer railing was cold to the touch. She gripped it tightly. The night hardly seemed real. How had she gotten here, of all places? “I need to call my brother. He’ll be worried.” She turned to face her prison guard. Boston shook his head. “I’m sorry. No contact. Those are his rules.” She curled her hands into fists. Is this even the right thing to do? She nodded her acceptance, and Boston again seemed like he wished he were doing anything else. He walked back through the door to his room and closed it behind him. She listened, but heard no faint sound of a lock. Savvy left her balcony doors open, letting the sound of the surf beating itself senseless on the sand surround her. She sat on the edge of the bed and looked around. It was neutral; any personality would feel calm with these colors, like a hotel room. The bathroom door was open, and it, too, looked fancy. The camera in this room was less noticeable, but she found it, and she was tempted to tear it out. Instead she kicked off her heels and walked out onto the balcony again, restless. The fresh air both helped and hurt. It helped because the huge house felt like the tight tentacles of an octopus. But it hurt because it brought back a memory. Ocean air is so specific. You can feel the soft layer of salt building on your skin as you inhale it. Savvy had held a baby Sara on her hip as Kal lugged all the beach supplies she’d deemed necessary for Sara’s first trip to the sea. Savvy had been a water baby. Tobias had been forced to drag her, unwilling, out of the town pool at the end of every summer when they were kids. She couldn’t wait to see if her daughter would fall in love too. Sara’s face had been serious as she took in the endless horizon. She even had a little pout. Savvy’s knees went weak at the thought of her daughter’s chubby cheeks and pudgy legs. Just to smell that cheek once more. God, anything, anything, to do that again. Kal had stood next to them, waiting to see Sara’s reaction to the water. He had to duck his head to find her under her white beach hat with the happy fish on it. Savvy loved to watch him watch their daughter. His eyes would sparkle as he smiled. “So what do you think, baby girl? How’s the beach?” He dropped one of the totes to grab her little hand. Savvy nuzzled Sara’s neck, trying to lighten her mood. Finally, decision made, Sara held her other hand out to the water and clenched her fingers again and again. The universal motion for “Come.” Then Sara had smiled, her white teeth so small and cute. “Mine! Mine, Mama. Mine!” She took ownership of the entire ocean. Savvy and Kal had laughed so hard they sat down right where they stood. Sara discovered the sand and immediately let it run through her fingers. When Kal recovered enough, he gave both his girls a quick kiss. “She’s her mother’s daughter. Already thinks the world’s hers for the taking.” Savvy had fussed about with the sunblock, and the day had been endless. Sara had even napped under their umbrella, hands thrown above her head in perfect contentment. Savvy closed her eyes and commanded her tears to halt, but remembering her family hurt so much. She walked back into her room and fastened the door. Everything had Kal and Sara in it. Every heartbeat of every day she would remember her mistake, her selfish mistake. Perhaps this was a punishment she deserved.

Chapter 11 Come The house in Italy was so similar to Silas’s house in Maryland, there were times late at night when he forgot where he was. He hated those moments. Disoriented and fighting off flashes of fear, he would feel his stomach bottom out while he tried to find something for his consciousness to catch on to as a lifeline. He’d felt a bit that way when he’d arrived around lunchtime today, caught between two time zones. But after a few hours of chemically assisted sleep, he felt reasonably on top of things. And besides, there was no one here to impress. The women were interchangeable. He had taken to calling them all Beautiful, and that seemed to suffice. When there was more than one in his bed—which there often was—he made sure his mouth was too busy for them to worry about names. As he came downstairs, he was greeted as expected once his ridiculously expensive shoes announced his arrival. A thug held a drink for him on a silver tray, the ladies wore as little as possible, and his favorite classical piece wafted through the air like a perfume—all as it should be. A tall brunette approached. She was exquisite, and he recognized her immediately. She photographed like a dream come to life, and quite a few of her nude images were framed on his wall. He loved the female form: flawless skin, willing mouth, and breasts. Tonight, he suddenly decided her hair was the wrong color. With one flick of his wrist, she would shave it all off and smile the whole time. He upended the silver tray, and the glass intended for his lips shattered on the ground. Fear. He watched as it rippled through the waiting crowd of employees like a snake. Nothing was more deadly than Silas Sagan in a bad mood. The women kept smiling, but he noticed the slight changes in their postures. Nights like this he was brutal. Nights like this people got hurt. Nights like this someone in the house could certainly die. Silas swallowed the smirk he’d offered the scared assholes in front of him. He walked through the crowd, sparing a dirty look for the redhead who came on to him as he passed. A mousy blonde in the corner scrambled to her feet as he nodded in her direction. She wasn’t even one of Silas’s chosen ladies; she was here to service his thugs. But she was as close to Savannah Raine as he was going to get tonight. She followed him into his chambers. The candles were lit and champagne was chilling, as he required. Still, it felt hollow in here. Emptiness echoed in the void. He tried to picture Savannah, holed up in her unfamiliar room, waiting to kill him. He motioned for the girl to climb onto his bed. She was shaking. Surely she was frightened. He had such high standards for his sexual needs. The women who serviced him were tremendously talented. He sat at his computer desk and connected to Bugs, who had a live feed open and ready in Savannah’s room. She sat on the edge of her bed, looking at the floor. He touched the screen again, wishing it were her skin. As if she could feel his desire, she snapped her

gaze from the floor directly into the security camera. He felt a chill as she refused to look away. She stared right into his eyes with half the world between them. He watched as she left the bed and came to stand right underneath the black orb protecting the camera in her room. “Savannah,” Silas breathed. “I’m sorry, do I need to do something?” The whore on the bed received a withering glance from the deadly man. When he looked back at the screen, Savannah was gone. He dialed Bugs immediately and said nothing as the man began explaining. “Sir, she just stepped into the bathroom. She’s still on the property.” Silas hung up with out acknowledging the new information or the person who’d provided it. He wanted her back on his screen. He needed her back on his screen. She knew he was watching her, and it made him hard. He spoke over his shoulder. “You better be naked by now.” The girl’s quick shuffle of clothes told him she’d been frozen in fear on his bed. That was all right. In fact, it was as it should be. “Come over here and bend over.” He undid his pants and let them fall to the floor. The belt buckle hit the marble and resonated through the room. Like a good whore, she could grab her ankles in the perfect position. He didn’t want to see the bitch’s face; he just needed to see blondish curls brushing the floor. This slut’s were too fake, but he would do his best to make the fantasy work. He waited. The whore waited, breathing heavily. Time passed, and he grabbed her hips to hold himself steady. When Savannah returned to his screen, he would need to overpower something, someone. Still they waited. Finally he smiled as there was activity on his computer. Savannah came back with wet hair and a robe on. She had showered. Oh, God. Yes. He left his whore waiting for her pounding and grabbed the bottle of champagne. He only opened this type of alcohol one way: with a ridiculous sword. Usually his bevy of beauties gasped as he gallantly and masterfully hacked the cork from the bottle. Tonight his hand shook a bit as he performed the flourish, and instead of just the cork, he shattered the top of the bottle as well. The bubbles began cascading violently from the green glass. He had to hurry back to the now visibly shaking bitch so he could wet her hair to match Savannah’s. By the time he set the empty bottle down, the whore was crying, as silently as possible. Savannah sat on her bed, writing in a fancy notebook, which surprised him yet again. Her quarters were well-stocked, of course. but he hadn’t pictured the angry, determined woman he desired as a careful journaler. She wouldn’t look at the camera, and he clenched his fists. The naked girl before him might be beginning to wonder if Silas Sagan was impotent. He couldn’t have that either. He entered her with no warning and was pleased by her gasp. He was a lot to handle without any foreplay. He tried to focus on the wet hair, the girl on the screen, but he couldn’t find his release. As he roughly demanded so much from the whore, Savannah finally looked back at the camera and found his eyes. She stood and walked closer. The eye contact was all he needed; he moved faster, harder. The whore’s

head hit his desk, but as long as he didn’t knock her out, he didn’t care. Savannah flipped the notebook so he could see it. She’d been writing to him. She could feel him. Her letters were careful, not rushed. You’re hiding. I’ll find you. I’ll always find you . Savannah smiled as she tapped the words with her finger. God, he was so close. He wished there was a camera on him as well, so she could see what she was doing to him. She flipped the page to show him the next message. She bit her lip and flipped her wet hair. He reached down and grabbed a handful of her stand-in’s locks. He would notice later that his hand was covered with her blood, but the cut on the whore’s forehead would give him not one second of guilt. Savannah winked, and he read the words. I am your death, Silas Sagan. She knew him. She’d learned his name. The prospect was so exciting he didn’t even linger on the breach in security that had provided her that information. He came then, in another woman, shouting Savannah’s name.

Chapter 12 Beach Run Savvy couldn’t sleep here. Hell, she could hardly breathe. Her second night in her new prison had been no less trying than her first. She could only lie in her bed and try to avoid moving, letting the world sway with all her power. Her day had been spent pacing and looking out at the ocean. As tempting and distracting and energizing as the evil people around her were, Silas Sagan would be her primary focus now, even though he’d gone. He’d left silence in his wake, but her mind still echoed with her daughter’s screams. She put her fingers to her temples and felt like a traitor as she tried to unhear the horror. What kind of mother am I? A failure. The sound was a piece of Sara. Despite the grinding pain, she should be grateful for any memory at all. But now her doubt was greater; what if Sara’s soul wasn’t at peace? Oh, God. What if she was…somewhere, trapped in the evil of the man whose aura emitted the sound of her suffering? That would be unthinkable. Savvy had consoled herself with the hope that Kal and Sara were happy and in a better place—somewhere waiting for her. To learn that wasn’t true would be more than she could bear. Her fingers gripped and ripped the expensive comforter beneath her as next she shifted to worrying about Tobias. What must he be thinking now? She’d up and disappeared almost thirty-six hours ago. He had to be worried, which almost made her laugh because of what she was now, what she could do. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde certainly made sense to her now, and in her months of hunting she’d learned a bit about maintaining some control, making sure she channeled these insane powers as best she could. But being here was more than she bargained for. Being surrounded by so many auras in the mansion left her feeling unskilled and unprepared. She had to fight the violence inside her breath by breath. Earlier today she’d found the remote and turned on the TV, looking for the news, hoping her face would be plastered on every channel. But after a full circle of the available stations, it had become apparent that she had a very censored offering. In the midst of looking for distraction on the stupid television that got about three sanitized channels, suddenly she’d felt Sagan again. Like an army of spiders marching up her spine and seeping into her brain, his attention had called to her. She’d looked at the camera that monitored her and found his eyes through the electronics, because they were the windows to his horrible soul. The worst of the energy had pulsed through her head, but she’d risen to stand right underneath the source. When it ceased, she’d blinked and hurried to the bathroom, the one place she was almost sure didn’t record her activities. There she had wrapped her arms around her waist and bent at the middle. A sob had wracked through her, and she’d blocked the noise with her fist. Panting around her own skin, Savvy had worked to compose herself. I want to kill something. Somebody. Please God, let me kill. The battle for control raged within her, and as she’d lifted her head, she’d seen herself reflected in the

mirror; the lust for murder that had shone in her eyes was the most light they’d offered in more than a year. Look what I’ve become. The mirror used to be a happy place. When Sara was a baby, it was one of the first games she liked to play. “Who’s the pretty girl in the mirror?” Savvy would ask her chubby-cheeked daughter. When Sara squealed with her baby attempt at conversation, Savvy would lean over and blow raspberries on Sara’s skin. Oh, the laugh. It was so addicting. They would stay at the mirror until Sara got bored or hungry. Savvy would have stood there forever, needing nothing more than a small room filled with her daughter’s delight. Savvy had taken a scalding hot shower next, hoping to shock herself out of this trembling need to be so vicious. But as her skin became fiery red with the merciless searing, it had just matched her insides and their torment. There was no relief. And when she’d stepped out and wrapped herself in a robe, she’d known that Sagan wanted her. The air had told her. Her spine had told her. He’d been back at her camera. As she’d padded back into the scope of his electric sight, she’d spotted an elegant notebook sitting on the desk in her room and swallowed a smile. As she’d sat with a pen and the book, it had taken everything she didn’t have any more not to lift her head and meet his pounding gaze. Finally, once she’d finished writing the message that would give her a little peace, she’d let her eyes give in to the demand. She’d almost gasped as Sagan’s attention poured over her. It had been hotter than the shower—and every inch of her skin had felt him. Yet she’d managed to simply tap her message and wink, maintaining a false veil of calm and control, shielding her desperation to choke the living shit out of him. Savvy sighed and rolled over. Now that the sun was high enough to officially call it morning, she left the bed and dressed in the bathroom. Finding anything in that closet she was willing to put on was a task. The best she could do was skintight jeans and a tank top. Her only choice of footwear was heels, of course. She chose red ones. After she’d brushed her hair and stepped back into her room, there was a knock on the door. She guessed the timing was perfect because someone in the house was watching her. Bugs, probably. It wasn’t Sagan this time; she hadn’t wanted to burst into flame. When it was clear the visitor would not enter without permission, Savvy took a moment to brace herself against ripping the person’s head off when she opened the door. The auras were with her all the time—taunting, needling, irritating. When she turned the doorknob, there was Boston, struggling to seem casual. The red in his aura was like a flag to a bull, and she salivated to beat it out of him. “Did you sleep well?” he asked and then cringed, Savvy felt a moment of sympathy despite herself. What could he ask her, really? What could be their small talk? A jailor and his prisoner. He’d brought her three deliveries of super-crappy food yesterday. “My TV needs more channels.” She looked away from him, trying to calm her itchy limbs, clear her cloudy vision. There was an awkward silence. Her TV would never have more channels, and they both knew it. “Can I get you something to eat?” Boston ran a hand through his hair.

Savvy shook her head. The last thing she could dream of doing was stuffing cereal past the large lump in her throat. The strain of standing still made her sweat. There was more endless quiet. Boston shuffled his sneakerclad feet. He seemed to be dressed for a run. It had been a million years since Savvy had punished herself with that type of exercise. When she’d played soccer in college, the coach had demanded five miles a day, and she’d stopped the moment she left the team. Yet ragged breaths and tortured muscles seemed really appealing now. Maybe running would help contain her need to go on a violent rampage. “Were you about to go to the gym?” Savvy didn’t meet his eyes. “I usually run on the beach in the morning.” Boston picked lint from his shorts. “I take it you can’t leave me. Are you their first line of defense?” Savvy nodded toward the rest of the house. The red auras called to her like free candy. Boston massaged his neck. “Um, I guess. Mostly I’m here to make sure nobody hurts you.” He met her eyes, and the deep blue reflected his disbelief that she needed protection from anyone. “I’d go on a run with you. I’ve got to do something; my mind is melting here. I can’t even breathe anymore.” Savvy watched, fascinated as the gold in Boston’s aura marbled in front of his red. He nodded as if he understood perfectly what she was saying, what she needed. “Let’s go.” He took a determined step for the door. “Dude, if I run in this getup, I’ll bust out of these pants, and the heels will get stuck in the sand. I’ll probably break my leg. But I couldn’t find anything else to wear.” Savvy stepped aside as Boston walked in. “Well, you’ll have workout clothes. The girls have to stay fit—that’s one of the boss’s rules.” Boston pulled open the drawers in her closet. A wave of nausea washed over as Savvy considered what the man had said. She would be one of Sagan’s “girls.” Whatever that entailed. The thought of being close to Sagan made her fists curl. After a moment, Boston found what he was looking for. He tossed her a pair of shorts and a running top. While he rooted around for sneakers, Savvy contemplated her options. Sagan had someone watching Tobias, and until she could figure out how to keep her brother safe, she was a puppet—or worse. Boston turned with a victorious grin. “Look at that! I found my way around in a chick’s closet.” His gold was so bright in that moment that Savvy felt her heart swell a bit. If it weren’t for the red threading through here and there, being around Boston would almost be bearable. He waited outside as she changed. She left her previous outfit in a ball on the floor and walked through the unlocked door to his room once she was ready. Boston had an intensely dorky-looking fanny pack clipped around his waist. He zipped it open to retrieve his cell phone, and she could see he was serious about his job. His gun and a very sharp knife took up the rest of the space in the pack. He dialed quickly and looked toward the camera mounted on the ceiling. “I need to get out without running into anyone.” He listened and then closed the phone. “Let’s go, Savvy.” They ran out into the hallway, down a side set of steps, and hit the door like they had just robbed a bank. Soon they were wrapped in the warm beach air. “Sorry about that. I just figured you didn’t want to see anyone else.” He tucked his phone into his pack and zipped it. And then the jogging began. At first it was effortless for her supercharged body, like cutting hot butter.

But as she moved farther down the beach, farther from the concentration of evil, her breaths came harder. Her muscles seemed to remember she was human and started to feel the strain. Her vision sharpened, and her desire to pound Boston to a pulp even waned. He slowed to a walk, and she was grateful. After catching her breath, she was able to talk. “So are you, like, transmitting the run?” He had a glisten of sweat, but he was obviously in better shape than she was. “No. There are no cameras out here. It’s just us.” “He’s not a good man.” Savvy heard Sara’s screams again in her memory. She didn’t have to clarify to whom she was referring; it could only be Sagan. “I haven’t met a good man in a long time. Not here.” Boston’s aura now rivaled the reflection of the sun on the water. It seemed he could be honest out here—if she could keep up. “A lot of people living in the house have done horrible things, including myself. But sometimes you don’t have a choice about the sins you commit. Just so you know.” She got what he was trying to tell her. Paying attention to who had gold mixed with the red in their aura was crucial. She liked it better when she just reacted. But she couldn’t just rage on people if they’d been forced to commit acts they wouldn’t normally choose. She seemed to be some sort of revenger, and if her targets hadn’t earned their retribution, everything would go all wrong. She knew this as solidly as she knew her own name. Savvy bent and picked up a smooth rock. She tried to skip it, and it sunk immediately. “Wow. Were you angry at the rock or just proving that gravity works?” Boston picked up a similar rock and skipped it four times before it sunk below the surface. “I’m sorry. Did you steal that fanny pack from your grandmother, or did you buy it new?” Savvy tried another rock; it sunk as well. Boston’s dimples highlighted his smile. After unsuccessfully trying to teach her to jump her rock across the water, Boston led the way as they began to jog back. She didn’t want to go, as it felt like crawling back into a tomb where she’d previously been buried alive. When the house loomed before them and she felt so very strong again, she decided to ask the question she was afraid of. “So, I’m supposed to be a whore for him, is that right?” Savvy looked for Boston’s blue eyes. He refused to meet her gaze. “I don’t know, Savvy. I’ve never seen him like this before—like he is about you.” He glanced around and shook his head. They would soon be under surveillance again. After he ran her up to her room like she was Elvis escaping rabid fans, he said he would bring her some food. Savvy took another screaming hot shower and tried to avoid the hope that Boston might be on her side. It could all be a mirage. She would have to be very careful.

Chapter 13 Collared Like a Dog After another distracted day at work, Toby stood in Savvy’s kitchen, taking huge gulps of the water from his glass. He hadn’t bothered to refill the filter pitcher in the fridge since Savvy wasn’t around to care about it. Tap was just fine for him. And he didn’t think about food now until he was already hungry, so he just ate crap. Three weeks. Savvy had been missing for three weeks as of today. He slammed the glass down and ran his hand through his hair. Frustration felt like it had mass and choked him continually. His trips to the police station had been fruitless. He heard the same excuses all the time: She was a grown woman. Savvy had depression problems and was known for doing irrational things—like trying to take her life. More than once. Fuck. He couldn’t get them to understand this was urgent. It was so important. The phone call from Dr. Sethen yesterday had been especially disheartening. First, he’d had to convince the guy to even talk to him, patient confidentiality be damned, since his sister had disappeared without a trace. Toby remembered him as the doctor interested in analyzing and identifying the substance from Savvy’s crash, but they hadn’t heard from him in months. After a long-winded and perplexing discussion about energy and a German physicist who had established that energy in one form can disappear but the same amount of energy will appear in another form, Dr. Sethen had explained that the green sludge that had burst from the truck that hit Savvy’s van and covered her face after the accident was something known as Compound E, and until now he had not thought it actually existed. “It seems, Toby, that someone, somewhere has created a substance we thought was only a theory. It can hold energy in a liquid state, and that is what Savvy absorbed. I really wish she were around for a full physical because I would love to run some tests on her. Evidently the chemical lies latent inside living beings for a period before any effects can be identified, and over time it settles into their organs, binds to their blood cells.” The doctor was not nearly as good with human emotions as he was with analyzing a difficult microbiology equation. “So, it’s like oil? Liquid energy?” Toby had jotted down various words in the small scrap of clean white space at the bottom of the newspaper. “Yes, in that the compound is a liquid, but oil needs a stimulant—something to propel it from one state to the next by burning it, or the like. This theoretical type of liquid energy is available just sitting still. I’ve done some tests with the little bits I was able to save from Savvy’s clothes…” The doctor had seemed lost in thought as he paused. “I wish the truck hadn’t exploded. A sizable sample would help me continue testing the substance.” Toby had pressed on the pencil until the tip snapped off. The accident had taken some very important people from this world. He didn’t give a rat’s ass about the energy slime this dude had an academic boner for. He’d pushed a question through his grinding teeth. “What did the tests tell you?”

“Well, the structure of Compound E completely defies the registered beliefs we have for energy. It has so many applications, but of course, I needed to try to replicate Savvy’s accident. I applied the substance to some mice and observed them with the help of my interns. For several weeks, there were no measurable effects, but then suddenly the mice became ridiculously strong. They could chew through their metal cages, and they attempted to bite some of the students, while others could handle the mice with no problem. Have you seen any changes in Savvy besides her depression? I’m not sure if the process and timing would be similar in humans or not.” The doctor had listened with baited breath. Toby had felt his hopes and excitement trying to pull the answer through the phone. “No, she was just really sad. No change at all,” he’d answered quickly, though he still had no idea why he’d felt compelled to lie. “So how are the mice doing?” What can I expect my sister to be like when I find her, if I find her? “Please keep in mind that mouse trials and human trials are inherently dissimilar,” the doctor had continued. “Our DNA and bone structure, intellectual functions—it’s all very different. And as you pointed out, Savvy isn’t having any of the symptoms we’ve witnessed in the mice.” The doctor cleared his throat. All at once Toby had realized he didn’t want to know. Whatever it was, he was fine not knowing. But everything in his head had emptied out as he looked for the end button on his cell phone. How could it be so hard to find? He pressed it every damn day. The doctor’s voice had been loud, every word clearly enunciated. “The mice have all expired. Eventually they turned on everyone, even those they’d seemed to like. In the end they seemed to get even stronger, but then they died in a rather…well, listen... Please—” Finally he’d been able to hang up. But he couldn’t unhear the words. He stared down into the bottom of his empty water glass. The police were still treating Savvy as a missing person. But if he didn’t find her soon, he wasn’t even sure she would be classified as a human anymore. If the mice had turned on everyone, maybe even he wouldn’t be able to talk sense into her. Maybe she wouldn’t even be found alive. Toby wiped his hand across his lips. He would do tonight what he’d been doing every night: ride his motorcycle until his eyes were blurry, listening for the screams of scared-shitless grown men.

*~*~*~* In the last three weeks Savvy had eaten enough frozen dinners to make her want to blow up the microwave. Tonight she and Boston sat in front of his TV with another salt-filled concoction, watching a prerecorded, steam-cleaned show. She liked to think her media was censored because Tobias was raising hell, and he was handsome enough to make the newscasters want to air his pleas for information on her whereabouts. “You know what? If I have to eat another one of these damn meals I’m going to scream. Why do we eat such crap here?” Savvy set down her fork. She expected him to give her some criminal-style answer, like trying to avoid being poisoned. Instead he shrugged. “That’s all we ever have. The guys get fast food; the girls eat, like, nothing.” Savvy’s fancy prison appeared to have all the trappings, but she knew differently now. There was no

caterer, no chef. Food was only what the people in the house brought in. Some of the rooms were finely appointed, but others were sparse and cheaply furnished. “Dude, get me the card the bastard sent me.” Boston raised one inquisitive brow and then left to get the credit card Savvy had sworn she would never accept from the boss. Silas Sagan sent her flowers every day—huge, exotic arrangements. Dutifully, Boston brought them up from downstairs and handed them to Savvy. Savvy had read the first card, which was attached to the stem of a Casablanca lily: Thinking of you ~ S.S.

She never opened another one. She’d also taken the vase to her balcony and heaved it toward the ground below. It had smashed on the sand, scattering flowers everywhere, and she’d felt his eyes race up her spine, watching her destroy from oceans away. He must have enjoyed it, because every day the routine continued. He’d send her a vase of blooms, just to watch her toss it out like garbage. She wished there were a nice pile of her destruction accumulating below, but the groundskeepers ushered the evidence into trash bins soon after her temper tantrums were complete. Boston returned, and Savvy took the credit card from him. It had been another gift from “Thinking of you. ~S.S.,” and unlike the flowers, which Boston didn’t seem to care about, he’d refused to let her toss it. “It’s worth too much,” he’d told her. At the moment, Savvy was inclined to think he might have been right. She logged on to Boston’s computer and surfed a very limited version of the Internet. She was pleased to see she had access to an online grocery store, and in no time she’d stuffed a ridiculous amount of fresh vegetables and meat into the digital shopping cart. After expediting the order, she clicked the computer shut and smiled. Soon she’d have everything she needed to make a real meal. The next dinner she and Boston shared would be homemade meatball lasagna. Cooking in the kitchen the next day served as a renewed exercise in self-control. She usually avoided the assholes who lived in the mansion. Savvy had found a few ways to ignore the auras’ calling, to keep herself as focused as possible in the face of their distraction, in the weeks she’d been living in the strange mansion. But every time she didn’t tear the owner of a red aura to pieces, she worried she was letting Kal and Sara down. What if they were waiting as eagerly for their next visit with Savvy as she was? And what if for one second she forgot about the accident and its horrible, horrible aftermath? That would be unacceptable because if she didn’t keep it in mind, Kal and Sara weren’t being remembered. This emotional torture was almost as challenging as the physical and mental strain of being around the auras without acting, so preparing the meal had been almost a joke. Every time someone with a red aura came close, Savvy just stood stock still, abandoning whatever task she’d been working on. Boston tensed each time, waiting to see what she would do. When she finally pulled the dish from the oven and plated their meals, they almost ran back to their rooms. Once in the calmer context, the meal was delicious. Savvy had almost forgotten what fresh food tasted

like, and it seemed she wasn’t the only one. Boston tried to hide his smile as he scraped his plate clean, and Savvy took him up on his offer to clean the kitchen. As the days added up into weeks, Savvy had immersed herself in running. She went to the beach with Boston twice, sometimes three times, a day. And once they’d trotted up to the turnaround point, they’d begun taking a break to talk. Talking to Boston was really pretty easy, Savvy had realized. He wasn’t worried about her mental health or lack of a soul; he just listened. She told him about Sara and what it felt like to be a mom. She told him about Kal and what it felt like to be loved. She didn’t tell him about the auras, because that seemed like information best kept under wraps. In return, she listened to him. His aura glowed gold as he explained why he was in the mansion, working for Sagan. “While I was in Iraq, my brother got into some trouble.” Boston’s voice was always calm, but as he spoke about his brother, it had a softness as well. “He’s all I have, and he built up his gambling debts the point that he was hiding when I came back on furlough.” Boston dug his hands into the sand. “What branch?” Savvy asked. “Marines. I had to take a dishonorable discharge to stay here and protect him. Crap, I didn’t make nearly enough to cover his debt, but Mr. Sagan had a need for a sharp shooter, so I took the job.” Boston unburied his fists, letting the sand slip through his fingers. Savvy made two fans in the sand with her sneakers. “Is it really a job? I mean, could you choose to leave it?” “I’ve got stuff I have to do here, and we’ll just leave it at that.” Boston brushed off his hands and stood. He held a hand out to her. He pulled a little too hard helping her up, and Savvy stumbled, steadying herself on his chest. He held her just a breath too long. She knew without looking up at him that this wasn’t good. She spoke to his feet. “I’m still married, in my head. There was no end to that, just so you know.” Boston released her and began jogging home. She took off after him but couldn’t catch up until she began to feel the house’s evil again. When she did, he spared her a look that held regret and obvious embarrassment. “Hey, the boss won’t care if your husband is alive or dead. He gets what he wants, just so you know.” Instead of the relief of a good run, Savvy felt rage curl up inside her like a tight metal coil. But she kept it inside. She needed things not to be weird with Boston for tremendously selfish reasons: she could talk to him about Kal and Sara, and once she’d pushed through the pain, saying their names made them more real. She’d finally realized that. Without the memory rewards after attacking someone, which had gone by the wayside for now, her conversations with Boston were the next best thing. Despite the lingering awkwardness, he waited with her by the door as usual. They’d developed a system for walking through the maze of tempting assholes. Her body’s surging response to the red auras fogged her vision, and there were times she literally couldn’t see. She could only feel her rage like a heartbeat giving her hate a life of its own. She hadn’t learned names or made any attempts at menial small talk. That would be asking too much. She just kept to herself, as if the others didn’t exist. Savvy stutter-stepped through the French doors, and Boston put a hand on her arm to help her find her way. Bugs stopped them both. “I just finished telling everybody else, but you two need to know: the boss is

coming to town tomorrow. He wants a welcome-home party.” Savvy could hardly hear him over the swirling blood in her head, which longed to turn her into the monster she wanted to be. Boston didn’t even answer Bugs, he just pulled Savvy up the stairs to their wing. It took a good hour before Savvy could speak and uncurl her fists. Him. Here. It was more than she could manage. She shrugged when she made eye contact with Boston. “I can’t stop myself from hurting him.” And she knew what that meant. Tobias would die. “Well, you’re going to have to, Savvy. It’s that simple.” Boston seemed doubtful himself. There was a knock on the door, and one of the assholes dropped off a delivery. Boston took the large box and kicked the door shut. Savvy hugged her arms as he pulled a knife from his oh-so-sexy fanny pack and carefully sliced through the tape. He proceeded to open the package as if it was for him. She was grateful he’d learned that she hated to touch anything from Sagan. He parted the black tissue paper inside the garment box and stepped back so she could see what was inside. A ridiculous silver miniskirt and string bikini top lay next to a pair of silver high heels. Savvy gave Boston a disgusted look. “All the girls wear this when he comes home,” he explained. “Mr. Sagan likes you to look the same.” He retrieved a jewelry gift box from its spot in the package. When he held it out to her, she shook her head, so Boston opened it. He bit his lip as he turned toward her. The diamond choker seemed to glow. How many carats, Savvy couldn’t guess. She’d only seen things like that on TV, on the red carpet. The sight of it here, meant for her, made her nauseated. “He doesn’t give these out, though,” Boston clarified. “You’re the first.” He snapped the box shut when it became obvious she had no intention of trying it on. “What time?” Savvy covered her mouth after her words escaped. How much time do I have to try to chain up this beast I have inside me? “He usually arrives around eight or nine. It’ll be a big party with music and tons of guests. Even some of his enemies will be invited. Homecoming nights have always been dangerous. Add you to the mix and…” Boston pushed the paper back over the outfit as if he wished he could make it disappear. Savvy went into her room to wait. She looked at her wedding ring. The simple band was a part of her hand. Anytime she’d taken it off—to make meatballs or paint a dresser—her hand looked so foreign she wouldn’t have been able to identify it as her own. This man who was coming, this evil bastard, had something to do with the loss of her family. Somehow she just knew. And he wanted her trussed up like a whore and collared like a dog. She vowed to lose her ring in the sand on the beach tomorrow during her run. She didn’t want to see her wedding band on her hand when she was forced to touch this man, if she was able to keep from cracking his head like an egg. Which didn’t look too fucking likely.

Chapter 14 Oh My God The next day, as Savvy stood skipping stones with Boston, she tried to take deep breaths. Chances were, this was her last day on the planet. In between skips, she took off her wedding band and settled it firmly beneath two rocks. It felt like her heart went with it, but with what lay ahead for her, it seemed essential to have it gone. She couldn’t bear having them with her through this night. So, the only tangible connection to her family now rested in an unmarked grave, just like their bodies. She could feel Boston watching her, but he said nothing—just cleared his throat and skipped another rock. “I’m going to give you a few pointers about tonight,” he finally said. Savvy nodded as if it might matter, but she knew he was wasting his words. “When you enter the room, go straight to him. He likes his house women to surround him. I’m going to try to find out where you should stand—if he wants you on his lap or next to him. The house whores will be in different costumes; they’re the only ones allowed to talk to other men at the party.” Savvy shook her head and bit her tongue. All the things she wanted to say, she didn’t. It wouldn’t matter anyway. “If things get dangerous, just look for me. I’ll get you to safety, but you’ll have to follow my directions exactly.” Boston looked over, trying to meet her eyes, but she avoided his gaze. “Do you have any questions?” A flock of seagulls made their noisy arrival and looked hopefully from Savvy to Boston. After they determined there were no snacks coming their way, they waddled off. “Yeah, I have a question. It’s more of a favor.” She pulled out her ponytail holder, smoothed the hair that had come loose during their run, and replaced the band. “What do you need?” Boston stopped flinging stones and waited. “I’m going to attack him. I know you’ve worked really hard with me, but for reasons I can’t explain, the desire to kill him will outweigh all of my reasons to leave him alive. When he’s around? I hear my daughter screaming.” She looked at Boston’s blue eyes now; they seemed so honest, despite the fact that she had to peer through a slight red aura to see them. “Do you have any clue why he’s so different for me?” Boston shook his head before answering. “I know that his operation had a huge setback when he lost the shipment of a custom chemical compound he’d had made.” He paused. “A truckload of it was destroyed in a crash about a year ago...” He trailed off. In that instant Savvy felt the impact of the accident again in her head. The truck. Her family. The deaths. Sagan was the reason. If she was the Revenger now, no wonder he was her focus. “I’m going to murder him,” she said. It was a fact. “You can’t do that. What about your brother? He’ll be killed. And chances are the boss will make me do it.” Boston punched his own hand.

“If I don’t kill Sagan, my brother is safe, right? That’s the deal?” Savvy hated the look of her naked left hand. I’ll be with you soon, Kal. God, I hope we both end up in the same place. “Yes, that’s the deal. Simple enough.” Boston seemed restless, like he wanted to run. Savvy couldn’t look at him as she made her next request, so she focused on the calm little waves pushing up to the sand. “I need you to kill me. The second I see him, just start shooting. I’m not sure if I’ll be bulletproof or not, so aim for my head and keep firing until I stop moving.” Savvy hated to ask this of him. “Unless you shoot me now—would that be easier? I figure you wouldn’t get in trouble if I’m attacking him, but maybe you could tell them I was planning to do it? Right now you should be able to kill me since we’re so far from the house.” “You’re seriously asking me to do this?” Boston seemed angry. She nodded. He looked hurt, and his gold aura now overshadowed the red. “I can’t live through Tobias being murdered because I’m some sort of freak show. I’m barely here as it is. The only thing that keeps me breathing right now is hate.” Why not be deadly honest with him? “I can’t do my best tonight if I don’t have a contingency plan, some way to keep Tobias in this world.” Boston looked at the same waves she’d been focused on. “Don’t ask me to shoot you.” Savvy stepped in front of him so he had to look at her. “I’m not asking; I’m begging. Please. I’ve lost too much already.” “Let’s just go back. Tallow will be there to help you get ready.” Boston started jogging. Savvy shook her head. He wouldn’t do it. Tonight, she would rip Silas Sagan to shreds and condemn her own brother to death. By the time she got back to her room, Tallow—the man tasked with her party-ready look—was frustrated and tapping his watch. She ignored him and went into the shower. She tried to make a plan in her head. If she could ignore Sara’s screaming—oh God, not again—she should be able to wrestle a gun from one of the assholes and take care of herself. Unless she was immune to a bullet’s wrath, in which case she was screwed, and Tobias was as good as dead. Because the payoff for killing Sagan would be exceptional, impossible for an addict like her to resist. First, Sara wouldn’t scream any more. Second, she would exact revenge for his part in her family’s death, setting things right in some small way, and third, afterward she would get some serious time with Kal and her daughter, and she wanted that more than anything—more than anything except for keeping her brother alive. She came out of the bathroom in a white, fluffy robe. Boston had dressed in a tuxedo. He locked eyes with her, and while Tallow tittered on about split ends and rough skin, he parted his jacket. Savvy looked at the intimidating weapon he’d holstered and back to his face, her eyebrows rising in hope. He nodded imperceptibly. He would have her back. She could stop trying to plan her own demise. “Thanks.” She had a lump in her throat, but he turned his back so she could have privacy while Tallow went to work. The stylist never stopped talking, which made her wonder how he could even be involved in this business at all. “These rough patches of dry skin on your elbows are unacceptable. Mr. Sagan likes every part of his girls to be kissable.” After applying his own special recipe of intense moisturizer, he began sectioning her hair and applying

a dryer. “And girl, do you even know what you’re in for tonight? First time with the boss? Did you know he had an electrician come special to his boudoir and put in more outlets for his toys? There’s swings and cuffs and benches. The girls stumble out of there looking like fugitives—hair all crazy, clothes torn off—but they’re always smiling.” Savvy’s stomach clenched. She wanted to know what was in Sagan’s bedroom about as much as she wanted to eat the pile of hair Tallow had trimmed from her head. The stylist’s phone beeped, and soon he was in a panic. “He’s coming at seven? He never comes before eight! Well, then you need to send me help; this girl is a hot mess.” There was very little chatter after the alarming phone call. Savvy looked at the clock. It was only five, but the extra help Tallow had enlisted acted like she was about to disintegrate. When they were finally done, they hung Savvy’s costume from a door, fully expecting her to drop trou in front of all the strangers. She looked at the silver outfit meant to demean her and classify her as his, just like all his other favorites. “Yeah, I’m not actually going to be wearing that.” She looked from one shocked person to the other. Tallow recovered first. “But this is what he told you to wear!” Savvy laughed hollowly. “Yeah, he can suck his own dick for all I care.” The atmosphere changed. The others now realized Savvy didn’t think it was a huge honor to be a fuckhole. “That’s not acceptable. I’ll put you in it myself if I have to, but you’re leaving here in that outfit.” Tallow bravely gathered up the skirt and came into Savvy’s personal space. He obviously thought she was just a regular girl. In an instant she’d lifted Tallow into the air by his neck. “I’m not fucking wearing it.” She stared him down until he began to turn blue. Then she set him back on his feet. Tallow was a quick learner and smoothed his fancy shirt. “Okay then, let me see what else we have.” Boston covered his mouth, but his shaking shoulders gave away his laughter. Savvy winked at him. In the end, they found her a gorgeous black dress—strapless, with a nice slit up the front. She consented to the silver shoes and looked at the results in the mirror as the troupe of stylists left. Boston stood behind her and looked into the mirror as well. “You look nice.” She nodded at his reflection. He held up the diamond choker and lifted an inquisitive eyebrow. Savvy nodded and waited. As he wrapped the jewelry around her neck, it felt like a pair of iron hands. Hands that immediately began choking her. Through the floor she felt the vibrations of knowing, feeling, and adrenaline. As Boston secured the clasp, Savvy realized Sagan was in the house. “He’s here.” Savvy grabbed the necklace to try to breathe, but there was no room. “Please, take it off. Take it off! Take it off!” Boston undid the clasp and looked at her like she was crazy. Every nerve in her body was being dipped in acid. Her hands shook as she took the necklace from him and wrapped it around her wrist instead. She would rather be chained at the hand than by the neck. She waited to hear Sara’s screams, to feel the insane, maddening pain in her head, but there was only silence. “What’s going on?” Boston helped her fasten the diamonds to her wrist.

“He’s here. I know that, but something’s changed.” Savvy looked at Boston again and gasped. His aura was gone. She touched his chest and felt none of the temperature change she was used to. “The boss isn’t here. They make an announcement when he arrives.” As soon as the words were out of Boston’s mouth, Savvy’s room filled with Bugs’s voice. “Please report to the lounge. The guest of honor is here.” Savvy felt sick and nervous and deadly, but the one thing she didn’t feel was strong… Her strange powers had deserted her almost entirely.

Chapter 15 If She Hated Him Silas hated that he was early. He liked everything just so when he arrived. Now the caterers he’d hired for the evening would rush through their appetizers, and the bartender was still setting up. Only a few of his girls were at the door to greet him with smiles. Savannah was not among them. Silas looked at his new best friend, the plain gold ring on his hand. It was the only reason he was able to come here at all. He’d explained Savannah’s background to the chemist who’d created Compound E for him, and the man had also managed to engineer and fabricate this little wonder. If all went as intended, being in the presence of the ring combined with the DNA found on his skin would keep Savannah’s Compound E-induced powers completely muted. Amazing what the proper motivation could do. Of course the scientist had wanted to run a trial on the ring before possibly putting Silas in harm’s way, but he’d refused. Time was of the essence, though Silas couldn’t blame him. The chemist had a wife and two sunny-faced children he wanted to protect. Nevertheless, Silas had demanded and received the ring the minute it was cast. He surveyed his home and tried to not appear jittery. He needed to remain under control at all times. Weakness was an opening, his father had always told him. Silas took a drink from the tray one of his girls held and swallowed a bracing sip. He said nothing as he passed them all and walked into his office. He locked the door behind him and went to the window. He ran the phone conversation he’d had with the chemist through his head once again. “Mr. Sagan, I can’t promise that the substance in the ring will render the girl powerless. When you combine it with your DNA, it should work but with your life I want to be 100% sure. I’m pleading with you, let me replicate her substance absorption and work with a volunteer. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe at all times. If something that came out of my lab were to hurt you, I—” Silas had interrupted. “If something hurts me, and you caused it in any way? You know what happens. So I suggest you get it right the first time.” “Of course, sir.” The chemist’s voice had held a tinge of frustration. “You’re the best at what you do; that’s why you work for me. How long would it take to do it your way?” Silas had been staring at Savannah’s form on a monitor as she threw yet another of his flower arrangements off of her balcony. “Six months at the very soonest. It appears to take some time for the substance to begin having an effect in the human body, and we also need to find another source. As you know, it was a miracle we obtained the first batch.” The chemist’s voice quivered. “As far as we know, her body is now the only place Compound E exists. And the samples of her blood we’ve taken—well, it appears to have bonded with her cells, infused into her organs. There’s no clear way to extract it, particularly without destroying her in the process. But let me follow some leads—”

“That’s not going to work for me.” Silas had cut him off coolly. “You’ll have an acceptable wearable defense that works specifically for me against her in three days. Have it delivered to my private jet; it will be leaving the hangar at two thirty pm on Friday.” He’d paused the screen as Savannah’s angry eyes met the surveillance camera. She was exquisite. “Do you understand?” he’d asked the man to conclude their call. “I don’t have to repeat the consequences if I’m disappointed, do I?” “No, sir. I understand. Three days.” The chemist had sighed, which had pissed Silas off. So before he hung up, he’d plunged a verbal nail into the man’s heart: “I’ll start with your youngest.” Silas took a deep breath and looked around his office. His tactics were borderline torture, he knew, but he always got what he wanted. He could get his dick sucked in any city in the world. People would demean themselves at the snap of his finger. He admired the ring on his hand again. Power was a surge he loved, but—and he would never tell a living soul this—his power hadn’t given him a rush in a while. He had become more vicious, demanding things that were unattainable, and yet people found ways to make his wishes a reality. Impossible things. Horrible things. If he could dream it up, others would do it. Until there was her. This housewife had cracked his foundation. It was serendipitous, the accident that had made her the dangerous creature she was now. That’s where the chemist came in. After some blisteringly thorough research from Bugs, Silas had been made aware of the potential in a new source of energy. The chemist who’d harnessed the main ingredient and developed the substance had hoped to create a way to power third-world countries. His Compound E had the potential to offer almost boundless power to a whole town via just one bucketful of self-renewing fuel. Clean water, light—the options for improving the lives of millions of people were truly mindboggling. But of course, where there is light, others can always find dark. Silas had slowly smiled as he’d listened to Bugs wax poetic about weapons that could use Compound E as ammunition instead of fuel. Silas had inherited many things from his father: money, houses, cars… But most of all, he’d inherited Baron Sagan’s enemies. Having a weapon superior to all others would give him a substantial advantage, as well as a new opportunity to dominate. Eventually he might even be able to sell weapons to the world’s militaries, he reminded himself. He tried to feel the rush again as he contemplated being more powerful than entire governments, being able to decide would win a war, but the satisfaction wouldn’t come. Nevertheless, after Bugs, Boston, and a few thugs had visited the chemist’s home, the scared scientist had agreed to deliver all the viable Compound E he had to Silas’s brand-spanking-new weapons factory. There were things Silas would have done differently now—like split the shipment into two or more trucks—but it was too late, and the one, extremely valuable truck had been in a deadly crash en route with its precious cargo. The accident had infuriated him. If the truck driver hadn’t perished in the blast, Silas would have had him killed for his incompetence. The woman in the other car wasn’t supposed to be alive, but Silas hadn’t felt any emotion either way when he’d heard that brave bystanders had rescued her. The truckload of volunteer firefighters coming back from a wedding had not even hesitated to risk their lives. They’d pulled her from the flaming wreck seconds before the truck exploded. Her child and husband had perished at the scene. Again, no emotions had stirred within him. No compassion, no understanding. Yet more than a year

later, when his team had finally connected the dots between the woman in the accident and the vigilante beating the living shit out of some of society’s worst, Silas had gotten so hard he could’ve cut glass with his dick. The primal look he’d seen in the woman’s eyes on the surveillance video from the beatings was so familiar. He’d seen that same look in the mirror on many occasions. The crash had cost him time and ridiculous amounts of money, but it was merely a setback. And perhaps not even that. The chemist had promised he was always looking for more of the elusive ingredient Compound E required. And thanks to Savannah and her presence as his prisoner, he now knew the fantastic effect of the substance on a human being. Once they’d replenished the supply, he could have his whole staff pumped up with this unimaginable power, and their weapons fueled by Compound E as well. He reminded himself again that his need for Savannah went beyond his need for Savannah. Extracting the substance from her body might be his best means of making more. But that would come later. Savannah was here. Tonight she would be his, the ring that combined with his DNA ensured it. That gorgeous, now-superhuman woman would pant for him, bend over for him, come for him. Even if she hated him. Especially if she hated him.

Chapter 16 Kiss Me, Savannah Savvy was already an hour and a half late for the party. She remained in her room, panicked, trying to determine what had caused her strength and extrasensory perceptions to dissipate. Only after many of the assholes on staff had come knocking, demanding her presence downstairs, had she finally relented. Apparently, Sagan liked to be the last to arrive at the party like some sort of diva, and now he was already among the guests, doing whatever he did. Savvy had taken to chugging champagne to calm her nerves. She had no idea why she was powerless. As bizarre as her aura-pounding obsession had been, it had never felt forced or unnatural. But now, she felt as if something decidedly unnatural was clinging to the air, effectively cutting her off at the knees. She felt…vulnerable. Boston had tried to offer a few explanations, like maybe the strength had just worn off. But Savvy knew different. It was like being blindfolded, although at least she could still see. Some kind of outside force pressed against her. “Savvy, we’ve got to get down there. If he comes up here, it’s gonna be bad. It’s already horrible because we’re late, and you aren’t wearing your costume. Please.” Boston looked frantic. She appreciated that he hadn’t just carried her down and placed her where he wanted her. She nodded and gave him a ridiculous attempt at a smile, but as she stood in the hallway, staring down the large flight of stairs that would take her to him, her eyes filled up. Tallow, on the way up from the party, breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her ready to descend the stairs. “Thank God. Being late can get people killed.” He turned tail, and Savvy bet he was running to tell Sagan she was on her way. It was just Boston and Savvy on the top step as she linked her arm in his offered elbow. “Don’t cry. Don’t give him that.” Boston spoke barely above a whisper, but she knew what he was risking to give her that bit of advice. She nodded and squeezed his arm. She didn’t even have to try not to hurt him; her grip was nothing spectacular. If I have to hear Sara screaming, and I’m not strong, I’ll be useless all over again. She focused on her champagne buzz and began stepping down the stairs with Boston. Her silver heels clicked loudly on the fancy marble, and she slipped a bit on the highly polished surface. Boston steadied her. “Thanks.” She looked at him to show him her appreciation, and to show him her tears were gone. He looked like he wanted to carry her out of here and run into the night. As they descended, the music swirled and pounded, meant to excite. It matched her speeding heartbeat. The place was packed, and Savvy had no way of knowing whether any of them were worthy of her wrath. Now no one’s face was cast in red. Their auras had vanished, at least to her eyes. When she got to the last step, she let go of Boston. She didn’t need Sagan to note that they were almost friends. She had a feeling kindness here was treated like a plague. Like a wave, quiet washed through the crowd and silenced the voices. Everyone must have known

Sagan was waiting for her. The music still played, but the party atmosphere diminished. The crowd parted so he could see her. She waited for the pain, the screaming. She felt like her brain was being strangled, but she heard nothing. Yet her whole existence centered itself in the far left corner of the huge room. She looked down the length of the wall lined with French doors, flung open to reveal the ocean and the coming night. And there he was. He started at her toes, his gaze raking her skin. Instead of an army of spiders, his eyes on her felt almost like a caress; the air around her seemed disturbed. Her hips, her stomach, her breasts—on her neck, he lingered. She could almost feel him stroke her face, though he sat across the room. She was so tempted to look at him. To see him. Yet she didn’t move. The sun lay on the horizon, lazy as it threw off its oranges and pinks. Boston had said she was supposed to go over to him. She was to walk over and kiss his cheek, then sit on the ottoman where he had propped his feet. Instead she stubbornly watched the sunset. As the stillness grew awkward, the DJ slipped on a new song, signaling the crowd to dance. Savvy remained motionless, and she could almost feel Sagan putting his hand in her hair. She snagged another glass of champagne from a tray and walked straight through the dancers to an open door. When she stepped out onto the porch, the partygoers out there enjoying the view hastily went back inside. She tipped her head back and drank until her glass was empty. She tossed it from the porch into the dune below and leaned against the railing, her back to the party. She didn’t turn as she heard the French doors closing, one after another like falling dominoes, creating a lonely spot for just her. She knew he was coming to her; his footfalls were the only noise besides the waves. As she watched the sun sink into the water—as if it, too, was afraid of this man— she felt him standing behind her. She closed her eyes and felt his breath on her hair. A dozen violent ways to kill him flashed through her mind. He put his hands on either side of her, trapping her against the porch railing. “Hello, Savannah. I feel like it’s been at least four lifetimes since I saw you last.” He spoke the words just behind her ear. She gasped, despite her prayer to stay calm. “You’re not wearing what I told you to.” His lips moved closer to her neck, tickling the soft skin. He touched the diamond necklace around her wrist with one finger. “This is supposed to mark you as mine. How disobedient you are...” He sounded amused, his voice deep and hypnotizing. She could imagine him calmly ordering evil, setting in motion the events that killed her family. She pulled her wrist away, carefully avoiding his fingertips, and unfastened the clasp. She held the necklace aloft like she might a poisonous snake. In the dusk, the jewelry seemed to hold some of the sunset’s splendor—a wearable force of nature. She released it, and it hit the sand far below, making a soft sound. He clicked his tongue and blew his frustration in a pattern on her exposed shoulders. “Do you know how much that was worth?” Her brain crawled, scrambled to get out of her head like a wild animal in a cage. He was the source of the mask on her power. He was the black hole absorbing all the light she could see.

And yet his nearness made her clench and squirm. Her body wanted him inside her. Somehow her desire to kill him had twisted into pure desire. The realization opened her eyes, and her hate boiled over. She spun in his arms. I will not want him. He’s a monster; I’ll kill him. If he was potent behind her, facing him was the next level of anguish. She couldn’t make sense of the feelings in her body—what was manufactured, what was real. The party behind him played out from behind the segmented glass of the French doors. The revelers were a shadowbox, just decoration for this pulsating exchange. His green eyes seemed to drink in the sight of her face. They sparkled and radiated victory. He bit his lip. When she found her voice, she settled all her hate for him there. Whatever these other emotions, she had felt that the longest. “I could care less how much it was worth. It sure as hell meant nothing to me.” He watched her lips while she spoke. “Savannah, can you feel this? The pull? I feel like the world turns from right here. It revolves around us; we’re the center. Kiss me.” He leaned down as if saying it would make it so. She licked her lips and almost gave in to him, despite everything, when the gold ring on his hand brushed against her arm. She felt a sudden stab of her pent-up power. He has it in his fucking ring! She turned her head, and his lips met the top of her hair. She grabbed his hand, though it hurt to do so, and tried to pull his ring off. He quickly thwarted her efforts and grabbed her wrists. He pinned them behind her back and watched her struggle. He barked a low laugh as he pulled her harder against him. “If you had kissed me right now? When I asked? You might have bored me. God bless you, Savannah. You’re like none of the others. Do you want my ring? I’ll bet you do.” He transferred her two wrists into one of his long-fingered hands. He used his free hand to trace her face. When he got close to her mouth, she snapped at him, trying to bite. He laughed again. “Yes. Yes! Fight me. Christ, I will have you tonight. Fight me the whole damn time.” Savvy turned her head and held back her tears. Fucker. She attempted to kick him in the nuts, but he easily blocked her and stepped between her legs. The railing bit into her arms and back as he leaned against her to keep her still. Her dress made a distressed ripping noise as the slit elongated to reveal more of her thigh. She briefly wondered where Boston was, but then remembered he protected her every day so Sagan could do this very thing to her. “Kiss me, Savannah. Give me a little tongue.” Sagan leaned down again, which was stupid. Didn’t he know she would just bite him? She turned her head again and was surprised to see people walking up the stairs from the beach. “Sagan! Has it gotten so bad that you have to force them nowadays?” The voice was playful and deadly. Sagan cleared his throat and backed away. He slung his arm around her shoulders like they were on a date. She ducked out from under his grasp and stepped behind him. “Hey, pretty4, you all right? Saggie hasn’t hurt you, has he? I can always give him a good spanking for you.” The man stepped into the pool of light that lay on the deck like a blanket. “Jack, this is Savannah. She’s my newest girl. She won’t be needing you to defend her.” Silas nodded in her direction.

Jack, the defender of pinned girls, looked past Silas to smile into her eyes. She wished she could see his aura. If Jack was coming here without a gun pointed to his head, he was likely a bad guy. But he held out a hand to Savvy. While everyone else had dressed like this party was a fancy wedding, Jack wore a white T-shirt and low slung, well-distressed jeans. Leather cuffs and layers of stones on leather strings around his neck completed the look, and his forearm had a few tattoos. He tipped his hat. “You don’t mind if I take your new girl out on the dance floor for a spin, do you?” Jack didn’t give Sagan the chance to answer. “Great! Thought so. Savannah, would you care for a dance?” Savvy nodded and accepted the hand Jack offered. At least he wasn’t wearing a ring like Sagan’s. When Savvy looked over her shoulder, she cringed as Sagan punched the porch railing hard enough to make a cracking sound. Jack held her hand tightly and pulled her to the center of the dance floor. Even though the music vibrated the room and the people around them were grinding and gyrating, Jack assumed a formal, ballroom dance position. “Are you okay? Do you need me to get you out of here?” he murmured. Savvy looked at his face, confused. Who the hell is this guy? Boston walked by and touched her hip. When she met his eyes, he shook his head. He didn’t need to speak for Savvy to know going with Jack could be deadly for Tobias. “No, but thanks for offering. Who are you? I didn’t think anyone talked to Sagan that way.” Savvy took another look at her white knight. He had high cheekbones, a deep tan, and white teeth framed by a neat goatee. His long hair was held back in a ponytail. “Hmm…I guess you could say Silas and me? We’re not the regular kind of friends. But I have to point out, he’s usually beating the willing ladies away, especially those that are his.” Jack was a strong leader, and Savvy did her best to follow him across the dance floor. He smiled as he spun her and returned his hand to her lower back. It felt warm. She remembered Boston telling her this night was dangerous for many reasons, including the presence of Sagan’s enemies. Savvy knew right where Sagan was; she could feel his existence with her entire body. She shivered as she felt his hot gaze demanding her attention. He’d come in from the balcony. When Jack turned them, she watched as Sagan cleared a table of his hangers-on with one angry hand gesture. He picked up a glass of clear liquid and met her eyes across the room. He was furious. Savvy watched the worried looks fan out from one person to the next like he was ground zero. Dancing with Jack was playing with fire. “I don’t belong to anyone. What kind of ass-backward caveman mentality is going on here?” Savvy shook off her dread and looked back into Jack’s handsome face. He dipped her and leaned close to her lips. She turned her head, and he whispered, “Say the word, and I’ll take you from him. I hate to see a woman mistreated.” She sighed and patted his shoulder thankfully as she answered. “I’ll keep that in mind. I think dancing with you is not the greatest choice right now.” Jack’s eyes looked troubled, but he released her instantly. He halted a passing waiter and grabbed two glasses of champagne, passing one to Savvy. She drained it like it was water and set the glass back down on the tray. Jack still held his full glass with an amused look on his face. “I was going to toast our new friendship,

but wow, you’re thirsty.” Savvy took his glass and pounded it too. Jack began to chuckle. “Well, princess, I’d better leave you to your own devices. Your captor is looking surly. My offer stands.” He looked at her knowingly, then bent at the waist to kiss her hand. If her brain wasn’t so full of bubbles and alcohol, she might have wondered if he was genuine or not. Instead, she just giggled. Boston swooped in as soon as Jack had cleared. “You better get over there. He’s going to go ballistic.” “I don’t even want to pretend to care.” Savvy knew her voice was a little slower, slurring even. Sagan sat alone at his table. He glowered at her, fuming. “You can care or not care all you want, but remember: he’ll take his anger out on everyone, not just you.” Boston waved her in Sagan’s direction.

Chapter 17 Playing With Fire Toby’s night thus far had been a sickening repeat of the numerous nights before it: No Savvy. No sign of Savvy. No evidence she’d ever existed. He’d shoved her picture in the faces of patrons at crappy bars and tattoo parlors—anywhere he could. He’d gotten vague answers from cracked-out bums, but no leads. His sister had vanished. Savvy had wanted to die for so long, maybe she just ceased to exist out of sheer determination. She could be dead. She’s probably dead. He wished he could control his mind and forbid it from imagining the things that could have befallen his sister. The thought that reoccurred most often was that Savvy had figured out a way to end herself with her crazy strength. Anything out of the ordinary called to him now. No scenario seemed too far-fetched. Maybe he was manufacturing leads because he needed hope to hold on to. With all this swirling in his head, Toby had to pull over when he saw her: a solitary woman standing on the sidewalk in the worst part of town. She looked like she was waiting for him. And she didn’t look like a hooker. He turned off the engine and removed his helmet. He watched her, but remained straddled on his machine. He had yet to see her face, as she was covered by the shadows thrown from the dying streetlight. Her hair looked like knives—short and aggressive—and the hazy blue light silhouetted her small body. The quiet night spread between them. She seemed to be in no hurry, and she didn’t fidget. She didn’t flinch when a car door slammed nearby. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he could feel her gaze. More car doors closed, and a group of men migrated their way. Toby got off his motorcycle. Either the men were with her, or she would be a target. The bits of conversation that floated through the night like a premonition made that clear enough. The woman shook her head once and held up her hand. Toby stopped and took a deep breath. Adrenaline filled his veins and pounded in his head. “Look, boys! Ask and you shall receive. I told you we needed some pussy, and look what we have here.” The thug’s statement was heartily seconded by his friends. Toby squinted and tried to make a plan, but it all happened too fast. The woman pulled a gun from behind her back and turned to face the men coming her way. She didn’t warn them or threaten them, just unloaded her pistol at their feet. Toby hopped back on his motorcycle and tried to get his key in the ignition. He looked up to see the gang of men running away like third graders headed for the last open swing. “Toby, don’t leave.” The woman finally spoke, and her voice was oddly pleasant. He stopped because she knew his name, and goddamn it, maybe that meant she knew something about Savvy. After the show he’d just witnessed, he couldn’t help but see the parallels between this woman and his sister. She tucked her gun behind her back and held up her hands in the universal gesture for surrender. Toby put the key in the ignition, but stilled as she walked over. The woman was slight; he would never have pegged her for a gun-toting badass.

When she was an arm’s length away, he could finally make out her face. She was a delicate beauty, better suited for ballets and art studios than dirty, dangerous streets. “Savvy’s alive,” she said as she resumed her patient stance. His sister’s name stirred up the adrenaline again. He gave the woman a hard stare. “I’ve had a lot of prank calls and stupid comments regarding my sister. I’m sick of it. How the hell do you know my name?” “Come sit with me in my car. It’s more private. I’ll tell you everything I can.” The woman took a step backward, motioning to the black SUV parked at the end of the street. It felt like a trap. This was all wrong. This person knew his name, what he wanted to hear most in the world, and that he would be riding down this road tonight. She saw the distrust in his eyes and sighed. “You want some proof? Fine.” She opened her jacket, and Toby flinched, waiting for another gun. She shook her head and made very slow, deliberate, movements after that. “I’m Teresa, and this is why you need to believe me about Savvy.” She held out a picture. The night was way too dark, and despite the grating unease in his stomach, he dismounted his bike and walked to the streetlight. She gave him space and kept her hands visible. She didn’t want to spook him— that much was obvious. The picture was indeed Savvy. She was running on a beach with a huge, handsome man. Toby felt like he’d been punched in the heart—first with relief, then with anger. Savvy’s jogging on the beach with a boyfriend while I crawl the streets praying I don’t find her body? The woman spoke as if she could read his mind. “It’s not what it looks like. She was taken against her will and stays because she must.” “Tell me what the fuck is going on right now!” He spun to face this all-knowing woman in an absolute rage. She knew everything but was saying nothing. “Get in the car, and I will.” With that, she walked to her vehicle without a backward glance. Toby looked from the picture to the SUV and back again. The police had no leads. The picture in his hands would just confirm their suspicions that Savvy had gone of her own free will. But maybe they could trace the man in the picture. I could take this evidence to the news and flush the guy out with publicity. The woman started her car. She could very well leave, and he would know nothing more. He tucked the picture into his pocket and approached the passenger side door. He climbed in, greeted by a hot cup of coffee and a sad smile.

*~*~*~* Savvy could always bring her brother’s face into her mind’s eye, even now— tipsy and suffocating from whatever was in Sagan’s ring. She had to try for Tobias, even though she was melting. She could see cracks in her resolve if she looked hard enough. Sagan was the source of Sara’s screaming, and he wasn’t dead yet. He should be swimming in a pool of his own blood, gasping like a fish out of water by now. Instead, he sat, twirling a bottle at his empty table. Mentally she skinned him, gutted him, and served him to Fate on a platter. He chose that moment to look up at her. Their gazes collided, and it felt like a blow to the gut. Her skin tingled as they battled each other in a staring contest. She hated him, yet couldn’t look away. It could only

be that this reaction was wired into her nervous system. Just a hint of a smile pulled on one side of his lips. The bottle continued its endless spinning, encouraged by his long fingers to keep the rhythm when it slowed. Savvy clenched her fists, then spread her fingers wide. She had nothing to do with her hands. She couldn’t relax; her body was ready to fight, and her posture reflected that. The music dulled to a hum, and soon enough, all she could hear was the spinning. The glass screeched softly in her ears, minutely scratched by the metal table’s surface. The other side of his mouth joined in the smile. She wouldn’t give up—the stare was everything right now. She wouldn’t lose to him, submit to him. Savvy began threading and unthreading her fingers, unconsciously mimicking the tempo of the spinning bottle. He bit his lip as if to prevent his smile from getting wider. He failed. He basked in her unwavering attention. That alone should have been enough make her drop her eyes, but she couldn’t do it. Her heartbeat was as loud as the spinning. The night of the accident, her heartbeat had seemed to take over everything. It had absorbed sound, fear, disbelief. The fraction of a second it took for the truck to slam into her van had been endless, yet there was no time to think. She’d reacted suddenly and violently to the danger and swerved the wheel. She’d swerved the wheel, and because she’d chosen left instead of right, she’d lost them. Because she had chosen to protect herself, she’d offered Kal and Sara’s side of the van to the impact. Silas Sagan and his dangerous green eyes blurred as she reminded herself of the unyielding truth: her selfishness in her family’s time of need had been the end of everything. The bottle spun and screeched just like the van, glass and metal. A drunk house whore, completely unaware of the standoff between Sagan and Savvy, walked through the crossfire of their face-off and broke her concentration. She took three quick breaths before she could exhale. When she looked back at Sagan, he had not moved—he was still biting his smile. He lifted an eyebrow to let her know he felt he’d won. Savvy put a hand to her forehead, brushing her hair away from her face. She made a fist so her shaking would be less obvious. She knew Boston wanted her to sit near Sagan. She tilted her head from one side to the other, trying to alleviate some of the tension in her neck. Then she put one foot in front of another. Sagan might be a bastard, but he was just a man—nothing to be afraid of. She just wished it wasn’t so hard to swallow. Savvy pulled out a chair across from him and sat down. She plucked the bottle from where it had been spinning like a gear, and the noise stopped. The music was louder suddenly, her mind finally allowing her to be fully aware of her surroundings. Sagan curled his hands into fists, their job removed. He was so close now. Only the table stood between her and his ring, a tantalizing temptation. “Did you enjoy your dance, Savannah?” He didn’t have to shout because she watched his lips. She shook her head. “Jack seemed to like it.” He lifted his thumb to his mouth and bit down, like her thoughts on the matter were so important. “Take the ring off, and I’ll show you how I feel about all the assholes in this house.” Savvy licked her

lips, tasting champagne. He grabbed the ring and pulled it as close to off as he could. “I love playing with fire. Wasn’t it fire that took your husband and daughter to their graves?” Savvy’s brain snapped. Hearing Kal and Sara mentioned by his evil tongue set her off. She stood and her chair clattered behind her. If she hadn’t drunk so much and been in this tight dress, she would have been smoother, but she still made it over the table. Sagan stood, backing against the wall, and he caught her as she leaped at him. Savvy swung, landing a good punch to his jaw before he clamped his arms around her. Instead of being scared, he was chuckling, though it wasn’t a happy sound. Their struggle didn’t go unnoticed, either. The DJ cut the music. In an instant, the loud, definitive sound of a gun being cocked coupled with the feeling of a cold barrel being pressed against her head. She stopped trying to hit Sagan, and he tightened his grip. Savvy looked away from his face just inches from hers. She felt like a trapped panther, her urge to kill cresting her anger. “Savannah, Boston here will kill you the second I give him the order. Then our games will be over.” Sagan hugged her to his body, punishing her with his squeeze. “Kill me?” She laughed, finally looking into his face. “Understand this: that would be a blessing, not a curse.” Maintaining eye contact with her captor, she addressed her bodyguard. “Do it, Boston. Pull the trigger.” The thought of her own demise caused Savvy’s heartbeat to slow. A peace settled over her, and her smile now echoed Sagan’s previous expression of pleasure. He loosened his hold on her and waved one hand at Boston. He pointed the other toward the DJ. The gun barrel was removed, and the music came back on. “I think you need to understand how dangerous I am, Savannah. This bravado will only be tolerated until it bores me.” He let her go completely and righted the chairs on his side of the table. He held one out for her to sit. She sat, burning to give him the finger, bite his ear off—anything. Instead of sitting next to her, he leaned down to speak in her ear. “You sit here and think about what you’ve done. When you’re ready to apologize, I’ll be at the poker table.”

Chapter 18 Redredredredred Savvy did as she was told by default. She sat with the party swirling around her because it took a few minutes to come down from the high Boston’s weapon had created in her. For a moment, she’d glimpsed the end of her pain. As her breathing returned to normal—well, normal for this place—Sagan’s vapid, brainless whores fluttered back to their spots at the table, waiting for his return. They treated Savvy as if she wasn’t there. Fine by me. She could see him from the corner of her eye at the head of the poker table. The quiet game seemed out of place in the party atmosphere, the tension of high stakes palpable. She turned her attention to whore-filled table. The women around her were barely dressed, and their skin looked perfect, though their eyes were dead. The smallest decided to acknowledge her. “You might think you’re hot shit, but Mr. Sagan is mine.” Savvy looked into the distance above the woman’s teased hair. Another on her left voiced an opinion. “He’s ours. We keep him happy, and if you ever punch him again, you’ll be dealing with us.” Savvy had to sit on her hands so she wouldn’t act on the vicious beatings she envisioned. I could snap every neck at this table if he didn’t have on that fucking ring. She covered her mouth. How vile am I? Savvy wondered how the same brain that had pondered the difference between a fleecy, stuffed puppy and another with hard plastic eyes for Sara could so easily be this evil. The contemplation made her stomach churn. She turned, neatly puking in the potted plant just behind her chair. What am I now? “She’s so disgusting.” Savvy didn’t care which whore thought so. Boston came to her side and took her hand. She thought he was being sweet until she remembered he’d just had a gun to her head—and failed to actually use it. She looked at his face as he clasped the sandy diamond bracelet to her wrist and handed her a minty piece of gum. He wore a shameful expression and looked like he had a lot to tell her. She shook her head, dismissing him. His betrayal wasn’t his fault. It was hers for trusting him. Boston stepped back into the shadows, and the whores began tittering as Savvy followed their gaze. Jack was sitting down at the poker table, being dealt in. A very male threat passed between him and Sagan. One after another, the other players folded their hands, leaving only Jack and Sagan remaining. She picked out Sagan’s bet amongst the chatter. “Fifty thousand.” The whores left the table like a swarm of hungry bees. They surrounded Sagan like a bad music video. A crowd formed around them, closing the drama from Savvy’s eyes. She tried to ignore the poker game until her name was mentioned. The crowd parted, and Jack was pointing at her. “Come here, love. If you’re going to be wagered, I feel like you should have some say.” Jack winked and grinned encouragingly. Savvy shook her head and stood, walking over to the poker table, which had become the center of the

party. Boston’s face was a mask of disinterest, so she wasn’t sure what was expected of her. Jack held out his hand, and she stepped up next to him, the only spot available. He wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. “Let’s restate the wager now that the beautiful woman has graced us with her presence. Oh, look, Saggie! She can be right next to me and not take a swing. I must be magic.” Jack smiled up at her. Savvy knew enough not to smile back. She’d walked into a very dangerous interaction and inadvertently handed Jack the advantage. The shimmering crowd of silver ladies made a chorus of comforting noises. Savvy couldn’t help but sneer at the sight of a grown man being pampered because he wasn’t getting his way. Sagan ignored the women and caressed his pile of chips with the steady ease of an expert. He licked his lips and looked at Savvy, his emotions well hidden. She wished she could place the feeling he gave her; it was such a mixture of pure want and murder. Jack stood up and threw his arm around Savvy’s shoulders. “You win, Saggie boy, and I’ll give you fifty-thousand dollars and your choice of any car in my garage.” Jack leaned close to Savvy and let her blonde curls cover his whispering lips. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. I always win.” He turned back to the table and all its spectators. “If I beat you like my teenage dick, then I get to stroll on the beach with Savannah for one hour.” Savvy’s head spun. This wasn’t about her. It was about these two very deadly men. She searched the crowd for Boston and caught sight of him sprinting up the stairs. He’s abandoning me now? Finally Sagan stood, brushing the women away with a crisp gesture. “Like Jack said, I’d need your permission for this wager, Savannah. I wouldn’t have a lady go against her wishes.” Sagan’s gaze tried to tell her something, to threaten her against siding with Jack, but with no Boston and a buzzy head, she shrugged and told the truth. “My permission isn’t something you’ve sought before, but I’ll give it now.” Sagan fumed silently. He dropped his chips, and they scattered on the table. The silver girls flinched. Each and every one of them gave her a dirty look. Jack buried his slow, sexy chuckle in her hair, as if they were lovers. This is so not good. Sagan’s stare unnerved her, but Savvy refused to take back what she’d said. His jaw tensed. “Well, Jack, I’m all in, then.” Sagan tossed his cards on the table and took sip from his drink. “That’s one hell of a hand, Saggie.” Jack’s body remained relaxed despite the straight on the table. Sagan snickered. “And if I know you well enough, you’ll have an impossible hand because you cheat, bastard.” Sagan turned and left. Jack released Savvy long enough to flip his hand and reveal that he had, in fact, a flush. “Look! I won, fair and square! Saggie, are you mad because I’ll get to play with your new toy first?” Jack shouted the last bit and turned to face Savvy with a huge smile, like he hadn’t just demeaned her. “That sounded bad. I’m just busting his balls.” Jack took her hand and led her to the closest French door.

“We better get out of here before he changes his mind.” She hesitated at the stairs to the beach, wondering at their very easy escape. Jack knelt in front of her and worked the clasp of her heel. “You won’t need these to walk on the beach.” With her shoes off, Savvy gave up trying to gauge what was going to happen. She padded across the porch and down the stairs. Jack offered his arm, and she almost took it, but then shook her head. She could do this herself.

*~*~*~* Silas tried to hear his thoughts around all the mindless tittering of his ladies. He closed his eyes and hoped Savannah would wise up and turn Jack down. But when he opened his eyes, he looked past all the shiny, glossed lips to see Boston running back down the stairs. Guaranteed he had been making sure Bugs had security for Savannah. One of the girls rubbed his bicep and whispered comforting nothings in his ear, but Savvy had disappeared down the steps to the beach. He clenched his fists. Son of a bitch. Now he had to decide whether to suck up his pride and chase them. The range of his ring was about a mile, he’d been told. They wouldn’t get a mile away, would they? Fuck. The last thing he needed was Savannah’s strength unleashed and her getting away. Jack would see what a talent she was and use her against him for sure. As he pushed his way through his women like a cloud of mosquitoes, he cursed himself for not having the balls to kill Jack sooner. He made his way up the stairs after Boston.

*~*~*~* Toby took a slow slip of the coffee Teresa—she’d told him her name was Teresa—gave him. Everything she’d told him was unreal. Unbelievable. If he hadn’t seen what Savvy could do with his own eyes, he would have never stayed in the passenger seat. “So just to recap, you’re undercover for an agency you won’t name, and I have to cooperate if I want to keep this new energy from becoming an advanced, horrible weapon?” He twirled the cup in his hands. His fingers hurt from the heat, but the warmth didn’t stop his shivers. She didn’t respond. She seemed a little annoyed by his questions and his insistence on repeating every bit of information she gave him. “What about my sister in all of this? You say she’s being held against her will, and I’m the only reason she hasn’t gone ballistic. Do you know how this Compound E affects humans?” He put the cup back in the drink holder. He could hear the low beat of music turned down almost to silence. “I can’t promise your sister’s safety. My bosses honestly don’t care about her. For them, it’s all about the substance and stopping Silas Sagan from developing it into something more.” Toby opened the door. He’d heard enough. He had the bastard’s name, and he would find his sister. He looked over his shoulder as he put his feet on the pavement. “Thanks for nothing. Seriously, this has been

a great mindfuck.” Teresa didn’t chase him, and he didn’t bother to close her door. He crammed his helmet back on his head and pulled out his keys when he got to his bike. He needed to call the cops and hit Google hard. The only evidence that she was behind him was the warm barrel of her gun against his neck. He stopped. She walked around him slowly, tucking her gun back in its hiding spot behind her back as she did so. She flipped up his face guard, and he knew all the pain he felt was apparent in his eyes. “I’m supposed to kill you,” she said. “I’m supposed to make sure your death makes the news and that somehow, your sister goes apeshit with the grief of it. When she does, we’re going to use the distraction as an opportunity to decimate the target.” She looked at her feet and rubbed her temples at the same time. “I’ve proposed something else—and it might get your sister out alive—but I have to get them to see it my way first. I’ll need your help for that.” When she looked up at him, he could see her pain as well. “So either I help you or you kill me? Is that the extent of my fine options on this beautiful evening?” Toby didn’t look away from her gaze, unflinchingly absorbing her emotions. “I’m not going to kill you. Not tonight, anyway.” Teresa and Toby stood in the center of the empty road, the night noises of distant sin seeping around them. Teresa held out her hand, daring him to take it.

*~*~*~* Jack was a flirt. He used every opportunity to tell Savvy how attractive she was as they walked. The full moon lit the beach with an eerie glow. “Does any girl fall for that crap? I mean, you heap bullshit like a farmhand.” Savvy felt like a rubber band had tightened around her chest, stretching and pulling as though it grew thinner and thinner as she walked away from the house. She tried to not let it affect her breathing. “It’s gotten me into panties a time or two.” Jack turned and walked backward so he could look her up and down. “Are you wearing panties now?” Savvy tried to sound effervescent and light, but the lack of an army following them down the beach had her curiosity piqued. Jack gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “And the lady wounds the knight.” Savvy rubbed her chest; with every step the pressure increased. “Are you okay?” Jack held out his hands so she had to stop. “It seems like you’re having trouble breathing. Here, have a seat.” He motioned to the driftwood behind them. Savvy sat gratefully, but the pressure didn’t release. She put her elbows on her knees and held her head. Maybe I’m dying. Maybe I’m not human anymore. “I just drank too much,” she told him. “Tell me something to keep my mind off of it.” Savvy tried to slow her breathing and release the tightness. “I’ll hold your hair if you hurl.” Jack reached behind her and twirled it around his fist. “You’re a prince.” Savvy turned to look at him. “Tell me why you’re allowed to waltz into the mansion, cheat at cards, and steal Sagan’s toys without a bullet in your head.” He kept his fist in her hair, and she might have protested if she hadn’t been fighting for each breath. “Saggie and I? Tssk... We were in diapers together.” Jack shifted his gaze from her eyes to the endless water.

Savvy tried rubbing her chest again, but still no relief. “Was this recently?” If satin sheets had a sound, it would be his chuckle—and it was addictive. “You’re a little wiseass. I like you. No, it wasn’t recently. You see, we were buddies. His mom was a housekeeper in his dad’s mansion. His dad was much like he is now with all the women. Young Silas was cast aside. They only kept him around as a failsafe in case his father’s more anointed offspring didn’t survive to take over the dynasty.” Jack kicked out his boots, crossed his ankles, and let go of her hair. He peeked at her, and she tried to seem calm. She actually thought her heart might be slowing down to a scary rate, but the information Jack offered might be valuable, so she tried not to panic. He continued. “Then, turns out they didn’t. The old man put a gun to his oldest son’s head and killed him ’cause he wanted to become a painter, not an evil, vicious bastard.” Savvy shook her head. To kill your own child? She felt the flutter of her rage, like a dragon waking from sleep. “One after another, Silas watched his all half brothers and sisters die. His father’s enemies took out most of them, though the old man’s temper claimed a few. And when Big Poppa Baron was laid up with lung cancer, well, that was Silas’s time to shine.” He paused, still looking out over the water. “We promised to look out for each other, to be brothers, when we were kids. Sometimes he lets his guard down, and I can still see the guy who was my best friend. Not so much anymore, though.” Jack shrugged. Savvy wanted to ask for more, but she couldn’t really keep her mouth moist. “And he didn’t let me walk out with you,” Jack clarified. “Both of us have a sniper rifle trained on our skulls right now. I guarantee there are at least ten guards hiding in the shadows. He doesn’t trust me that fucking much.” With that, a huge Jeep invaded the sanctity of their impromptu confessional, headlights glaring. “And speak of the assholes! I bet those are some of his guys; we need to get out of here.” Jack stood and held out a hand. But Savvy couldn’t stop looking at the Jeep. She could see a red glow coming from it that she realized was an aura around each of the men. What the hell? A dog came flying out of the moving Jeep and tumbled in the sand. “Shit. I hate these guys. They’re the worst of Silas’s sorry lot. Let’s go.” Jack reached down and touched her arm. For a moment Savvy ignored the pain in her chest. She was mesmerized by yip of the dog, which looked injured, a cowering lump of multicolored fur. Then one of the men threw a beer can at it, hitting it in the side. Judging from the immediate collapse and horrific yelp, the can had been full. The men’s auras glowed stronger as they laughed. Savvy looked at Jack and gave him one warning. “Run.” He nodded, clearly assuming she meant together, and took off at a light jog. Savvy stood and smiled. She staggered forward against the pressure in her chest until she felt the snap. She fell to one knee as power flooded back into her system. The dog met her gaze and seemed to know he needed help. He didn’t move. When Savvy stood again, she could hear Jack hollering her name. Red.

Redredredredredred. Red. She stepped in front of the dog in time to catch the second beer can before it found its mark. Her accuracy stopped the laughter from the three in the Jeep. Savvy smiled, concerned only that a sniper would take her out before she could rip them all to shreds.

Chapter 19 Trooper Savvy crushed the can and tossed it aside, spraying cheap beer everywhere. The three men tried to diminish the odd fear she suspected they felt by forcing some laughter. But she could tell they knew. Their fun was over. With no bullet in her head yet, she took her chances and hopped on the hood of the Jeep. There should have been words now, a righteous pronouncement, but she had nothing to say. Dogs had been Sara’s favorite animal. The men’s auras dripped in front of her like raw meat—pulsating even. She punched through the windshield and grabbed the driver’s hair. As she slammed his head repeatedly against the metal roll bar, she felt a tingling pleasure in her arm. Her power was glorious when it was free. One of the three had scrambled out of the Jeep, and as Savvy turned to face the last passenger, she saw Jack in the midst of a brutal brawl with the escapee. A gunshot ripped through Savvy’s chest, giving her good reason to pause for a moment. She waited to see if it would stop her, but it didn’t. She felt no pain. With increased zeal, she grabbed the smoking gun from the idiot in the Jeep who’d thought he was being brave. The weapon cracked like a toy in her hand. She smiled as he cowered. “What the fuck are you?” He searched frantically for the door latch, his panic making him oblivious to the open top above him. He didn’t deserve an answer, and he wouldn’t get one. Only in her head would she respond. She pulled him from the backseat and held him aloft, thinking, I’m a mom without a reason. I’m a person without a life. I’m dead with no escape. Savvy was about to crush his windpipe when another shot rang out, piercing the man’s temple and turning him into a heavy sack of bones and skin in her hand. She dropped the spent body and hopped down to the sand. The sound of running footsteps dominated the night. Only here in this upside-down world would corpses and gunshots garner just speed, and not horrified screams. Savvy put her hand to her chest and found a river of blood pouring from her wound. The numbness she’d felt during her insane power surge now seemed to be wearing off. She took a huge gasp of air as pain charged in where the numb seeped out. Another gunshot ended the brawl between Jack and the final Jeep passenger, and her flirty beach date stood and dusted the sand from his hands. She couldn’t see his aura, though it didn’t seem to matter much anymore. She staggered forward until she found the dog. She intended to check it for injuries, to see if she could help it stand, but she collapsed when she reached the little pile of fur. Putting one useless hand on her wound and another on the pup’s chest, Savvy lay her cheek on the sand. She knew the chaos around her should have her attention, but the little dog began licking her face just as the cold waves tickled the bottom of her bare feet. She knew she wasn’t bulletproof now. She looked at the soft eyes of the dog and tried to focus on him as pain wracked her body. When she

lost consciousness, her hand fell from her chest and landed in the pool of blood her heart had offered to the sand. Kal and Sara were her last thought, and an eager smile spread over her face.

*~*~*~* Boston knew Sagan had killed Joe, asshole #1. He expected that to be the end result for anyone who touched Jack. And he had personally ended the second asshole Savvy had held above the Jeep like she was Godzilla, even though she didn’t need his help at all. His heart had dropped when he saw her stagger and collapse, and he’d run as fast as he could to her side. When he kneeled, he knew something was very, very wrong. Sagan arrived on the scene moments later. “What were these idiots thinking? Why can no one follow instructions? Is she dead?” Boston didn’t dignify him with an answer as he felt for her pulse. There was blood everywhere, but he hoped it was from the dog. Yet no matter how hard he pressed her neck for a sign of life, no reassuring thump quelled his fear.

*~*~*~* Savvy opened her eyes to blinding sun. The dog she’d been petting scurried to his feet and pranced around like he’d never been hit with a beer can. The beach was crowded, and the water warm on her toes. Looking down, she found she was wearing shorts and a tank top. Savvy felt her chest. There was no gush of blood, no gaping whole. Then she heard it: the sound she would have given a hundred lives to hear, Sara’s laugh. She shielded her eyes from the sun and searched, panicked that she wouldn’t find her daughter. Yes…building a sandcastle with Kal, of all things, she was there. Savvy’s heart gathered the little bits of itself that pain had scattered around her chest and pulled together until it was whole. She scrambled quickly to her feet, jumping around beach towels and knocking over umbrellas until she was close, sure that she could touch them. She kneeled on top of their castle and hooked her arms around them both. They’re here. Skin, voices…God, they’re right here! “I love you. I love you so much! Please don’t leave me again. Please. Please!” Savvy pulled her daughter’s solid little body against her chest, smelling her hair, moving it back to see her sweet face. “You’re the most beautiful thing in this world, Sara.” Savvy’s tears wet her daughter’s face. “Mommy, you wrecked the castle.” Sara looked confused as she reached up, her little hand wiping away her mother’s tears. “I’ll build you a million more. I just needed your hug.” Savvy held her daughter tightly as she turned to look at her husband’s face. He smiled like he always did when he saw her unexpectedly. “Kal, I’m so sorry I turned the van the wrong way. It should have been me.” Savvy leaned into him and kissed him. Their kiss tasted like home and tears. Kal moved Savvy’s hair behind her ear. “It wasn’t a mistake, beautiful Savvy. You had to survive.” “No, no this is not surviving. Without you guys, I’m nothing. Life is nothing worth fighting for.” Savvy hugged Sara tighter. “Tell me I’m here with you, that I’m done now.” Sara coughed. “Mom! I need to breathe!” Savvy let her go reluctantly, and Sara turned to rebuild the sand castle. Kal held open his arms, and Savvy rushed to place her heart next to his.

He spoke to her forehead between kisses. “You know I’m always with you. We both are.” Savvy’s chin crumpled a bit; she was afraid of what he would say next. “I get to stay here with you, right? Just tell me that.” “Not yet, baby.” He rubbed a soothing hand on her back. “No! Kal, don’t make me—this is where I need to be! I can’t lose you again.” Panic took a foothold in her stomach, bubbling and growing. The beach was empty now except for the barking dog and her family. “Mommy! You have a puppy! What’s his name?” Sara grabbed Savvy’s hand. The dog jumped and spun around like he knew he was the topic of conversation. “I didn’t name him, sweetness. What do you think his name should be?” Savvy always made time for Sara, even if the conversation with Kal was important. “He looks really special. He looks like a Trooper!” The dog accepted Sara’s excited hug. Kal touched Savvy’s face. “You have to go back and fight. It’s very important.” Savvy shook her head. The sky over the beach grew darker. “I don’t even know what to fight for.” Sara smiled and scratched Trooper behind his ears. The dog let his tongue loll out the side of his mouth. “You just fight the bad guys and keep the good people safe,” Sara said. Savvy didn’t like the idea of Sara knowing about the evil she’d just been facing. “I was fighting to be here with you.” Savvy’s voice cracked. “Unless I’m not supposed to be?” The horror of reality crashed over her. Of course a woman selfish enough to let her family die in an accident didn’t deserve sun and sand castles and hugs. Kal must have read her thoughts. “No, you do,” he said. “You deserve every damn thing we have here and more. Know that we love you—you’re not alone.” The sand in the distance began falling away, the horizon coming closer and closer. Dread filled Savvy. “Come with me. Sara, come here.” The little girl walked over calmly, as if the whole world wasn’t crumbling around them. Kal whispered, “We aren’t in danger. You’re just going back. Trust yourself, okay? Stop trying to die. You’re there for a reason.” Pain climbed her body like a ladder, rung after rung of increasing physical torment. Her daughter held her hand as it began to go numb and shake. “We love you, Mommy.”

Savvy closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she was looking again at a dark sky. The moon highlighted the relief on Boston’s face—and the evil of Sagan’s. Boston brushed the sand off her cheek. “Stay with us, okay, badass? Did you have to take on three men?” Savvy tried to ignore Sagan’s presence. The stifling pressure his ring put on her was back in spades. “Looks like I’m not bulletproof after all. The dog stays with me.” Her words were hushed, but they caused her whole chest to ache. She decided not to say any more. Much to her annoyance, Sagan carried her like a baby back to the house, and Boston carried the dog’s limp form behind them. His jaw clenched. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go. Now you’re broken and maybe dying, for God’s sake.” She closed her eyes and tried to picture her time with Kal and Sara. She supposed she’d earned it by eliminating the men with red auras, but it had felt final—like she wouldn’t see them again, wouldn’t feel them again, no matter how hard she killed Sagan.

She prayed she was wrong as they laid her on a huge bed in a room on the second floor. She petted Trooper’s fur after Boston laid the dog within her reach. Moments later, a plain-looking man began examining her as he introduced himself. “Hello, Savvy. They call me Doc. I’ll be helping you recover.”

Chapter 20 Watching The next day, Silas looked at his ring as the helicopter lifted off. The last thing he wanted to do was retreat. But his conversation with Doc ran through his mind again as the pilot maneuvered the ’copter over the water. “You want the honest truth?” he’d said. “She should be dead. Easily. There’s no way an injury like hers would ever heal. Somehow she’s still fighting, but her vitals drop when you’re around. There’s something about your presence that seems to change how her body responds. She gets worse, instead of better. You’ve told me she lives or my family dies. So I’m going to have to be direct here: I think she needs time away from you.” The doctor had clasped his hands behind his back. Silas had touched his fingertips together as he sat at his desk. He liked immediate gratification. And Savannah was anything but. He’d dismissed the doctor without giving the man any mental release from his torment. Boston was next, called to the carpet in front of him like a misbehaving child. “And you think?” Silas had looked sternly at his best man. “I think she’s suicidal half the time. If you want her to fight to live, you have to make sure she has a desire to do so.” “Suggestions?” Silas watched as surprise registered briefly on the former Marine’s face. Opinions were not something he often sought. “Let her recover. And let her keep the dog. A glimpse of her brother alive would do wonders.” Boston shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “That sounds like kindness. I like the fight in her.” Silas stood and walked toward Boston, but the man just nodded. He’d shared his view and seemed to have nothing more to say. And now Silas was in the air, essentially with his tail between his legs. The ring he wore to protect himself was powerful, disorienting, and ultimately harmful to the girl. And until he could pump a few of his soldiers with Compound E, she was his best weapon and favorite toy. So he would let Savannah heal, watching her remotely and more closely than he would admit to anyone. And he’d have his chemist make a few adjustments to the ring.

*~*~*~* Two days after he’d met her in the middle of the night, Toby sat with Teresa in his apartment. Good thing he’d kept it even while living with Savvy, as he couldn’t bear to be in her place while she was missing. It kept him on edge, thinking every moment she might walk through the door. Teresa had been a ghost until his phone had buzzed today with the message to order a pizza with pepperoni. When he called the number she’d given him, a pizza did indeed arrive with an address slipped under one slice. The hijinks he and Teresa had then committed in bringing her here bordered on slightly

insane. He’d followed a ridiculous number of clues to end up in this very room with her. It might have been fun had she not been so serious. She’d been adamant that they were being followed, and that they not be caught together. She finished a sweep for whatever she thought Silas Sagan might have planted in his apartment and came up empty. “Just know, anything you say on your phone is subject to review by someone.” She handed him back his cell. “Noted. Now what about this plan you have?” Toby motioned to the chairs at his kitchen table, some of the very few pieces of furniture he had. Decorating hadn’t ever been his top priority. She sat, and he joined her so they were across the table from each other. “I think my bosses are right. I think Sagan needs to think you’re dead. But I would like to figure out a way to get in and tell Savannah you’re alive. I’d like to work with her on the inside.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “Okay. What’s it like in that house?” Toby’s gaze drifted and landed on a picture his niece had drawn him on the refrigerator. Pain lanced through him. “Hard to know. There are many, many regulars; whether they’re all employees or a good group of hangers-on we don’t know. Drugs. Weapons. Lavish parties, orgies. And a ton of fear.” She turned in her seat to look at what had captured his attention. “From my niece.” He shrugged when she looked back to him. “I’m sorry for your loss.” She twisted her hands together. “Her not being here is everyone’s loss, not just mine. The world was getting a good one. Incredible little human being.” He bit his lip. “Anyway, sounds like a place that would be fairly easy to sneak into with all those bodies.” Teresa waited until he made eye contact. “This hasn’t been easy on you.” He stood. “What? My sister being missing? No. Not at all.” She stood too. “No, the whole thing. The accident, your sister. You’re stronger than anyone should have to be.” “Let’s talk about your plan.” He leveled a hard stare at her. He was in no mood to make nice with a stranger about the most challenging parts of his existence. “I have one goal: get my sister back. I’ll help you any way I can as long as that’s the endgame.” She nodded. “Understood. I feel like I have to tell you this is a ridiculously dangerous situation. We are far out-moneyed by Sagan. We may even be outmanned. I’m hoping we aren’t outsmarted by him as well, because that’s our only advantage. Well, that and you. You’re our wildcard that he won’t see coming.” “What do you know about Silas Sagan?” “Psychopath. Spoiled. Deadly. Young for all he has. Abused by his father, mentally and physically. His mother was the help. Has a need to dominate in every situation, have the last word. He gains pleasure from pain. Or at least that’s what we’ve gotten from the few who survived employment with him and were willing to talk to us.” Teresa opened her phone and scrolled through her messages. “Listen, I have to go. Put this number in your phone.” She showed him the screen. “When you call, order a large pizza, triple cheese, and then hang up. Either I’ll call you back from a burner phone or find you. For now? Go to work, continue to look for Savvy, but make sure you don’t go too hard. Keep your eyes open. The second I leave here, assume this

place is bugged. I can’t emphasize how important your discretion is to your sister’s survival.” Teresa headed toward the bathroom. “Lock this window behind me.” “Wait. How long until I hear from you?” He watched as she jumped to his fire escape. “Soon. But probably not soon enough for your nerves. Just trust me.” She went down the fire escape like a gymnast. When she was out of sight, Toby closed and locked the window. Knowing Savvy was alive was good. Knowing she was shoulder to shoulder with evil people who for sure would tempt her into beating them gave him no peace at all.

*~*~*~* Savvy felt the dog licking her hand before anything else. She could hear the helicopter lifting from the house and felt the intense rubber-band feeling in her chest again. She began to gasp, and the dog began to whine as Boston arrived at her side. She couldn’t even tell him what was wrong; she could only point toward the noise. “He’s leaving,” Boston told her. “With the ring. He’ll be out of range in a few minutes, maybe less. Just breathe—focus on that. In and out. In and out.” The snap came swiftly, and her body actually recoiled when power raced into her system like dam being breached. She released Boston the moment she realized she was hugging him so hard his face was purple. Then she scooted back so the gold and red marble of his aura didn’t overwhelm her. Propping herself against the headboard of her bed, she clung to a pillow as her chest fused itself back together. Her vision blurred and her senses cranked up. She began to cry as the pain reversed, until it was just the tiny pinpoint of the bullet’s entryway. And then it was over. She could see Boston watching her with wide eyes. Trooper tummy-crawled his way over to her, flipping her now-relaxed hand onto his head. She petted him absentmindedly. “Better?” Boston sat and took some measured breaths. Nodding, she wiped the tears from under her eyes, still unsure exactly what had happened. She had healed so quickly. And she felt stronger than before…possibly. They were quiet for a while before the doctor came in, eyes wide at Savannah’s obvious good health. After running through a basic checkup and a bewildered removal of her bandages, he left her with two Tylenol and directions to drink more water. Boston took a cold bottle out of his mini fridge and offered it to her after he removed the cap. She took it and swallowed the whole thing in just a few gulps. The memory of her time with Kal and Sara came to the forefront in a rush. She needed air. She pushed herself off the bed, and Boston steadied her when she teetered. “Careful, Lazarus. You might need a minute before you fly off the handle.” She swatted his hand away. “Stop pretending to care.” “Do you need to go for a walk?” His voice was tense. The cameras and recorders were still in full effect. “Yeah.” Trooper had a bit of a limp as Savvy put on jeans and sneakers. “You know what? Let’s take the dune buggy in case I get winded.” Savvy brushed her teeth and hair and noted that she needed a shower desperately. But she wanted to hash things out with Boston more. He nodded and allowed Savvy to lean on him on their way to the buggy. It had only two seats, but

Trooper settled in Savvy’s lap as Boston popped the clutch. The sun was high in the sky as they drove. She’d been out for a while, it seemed. They parked the buggy without speaking to each other. Savvy lifted Trooper, who turned out to be just a little too big for the treatment. Boston took the dog from her arms and set him on the ground. He limped down to the edge of the beach and flopped down, biting at the waves as they splashed over his brown-and-white paws. “Now you can speak.” Boston crossed his arms over his chest. “Thanks.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. He was angry, but the gold in his aura glowed bright. “Tell me,” he demanded. “Tell me how pissed you are to still be here. Give me grief over trying to keep you alive while you drank your face off and made every bad decision you could to piss off Sagan.” Savvy shook her head. The party seemed so long ago. Everything was different now. She watched as Boston bent and rubbed the dog’s belly. The animal looked like it was in heaven, hardly any sign of his wounds remained. She walked down to stand next to them, leaving their previous conversation behind. “So does he belong to anyone?” “Nope. The guys in the Jeep found him in a cage outside the local shelter. They have a place for people to drop off dogs.” Boston stood, and Trooper pawed the ground, demanding more attention. “At least that’s what the witnesses we found told me. Fuckers.” “We should probably take him back to the shelter. God knows what Sagan will do to him.” Savvy bent down and stroked the dog’s shaggy head. He was a mix of shepherd and some sort of spotted hound. A good, adorable mutt. “Right now you can keep him. I told Sagan he needed to leave and let you keep the dog so you would heal. So downplay the miraculousness of this whole recovery. The longer you appear weak, the longer he’ll stay away.” They were close now, both huddled around the dog. He put his serious blue gaze on her face. “I thought you were a goner. I was sure you were done. That shot? Right to the chest. I saw it happen. I was coming, but not fast enough.” Boston looked from her lips to her eyes a few times. “Don’t ask me to shoot you ever again.” Savvy petted the dog, but managed to pat Boston’s hand in the process. Then she stood. “I have to stop him. I have to kill him.” She shielded her eyes and looked out on the water, at a sailboat bobbing in the distance. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He stood as well. “You’ve said that a few damn times already.” She shook her head. “No. Things are different now. I did die. I died on the beach. And I saw them. I spent time with them—my husband and daughter.” She closed her eyes for a minute, getting her wits about her. “They told me I have to help the good people and stop the bad ones. This whole thing happening to me? I might have a reason for still being here. Sagan’s whole shit show? It’s evil, but it’s magnetic to me. And as you know, he’s the reason they’re gone. I have to put things right. I think that’s my purpose.” “He’s got me on a short leash. And you too. Your brother needs to be protected, correct?” Boston kicked the sand. “That’s the truth. But it feels like there’s something more.”

“Sagan has a weapon in you. Like, inside you. That’s what makes you so strong sometimes. The chemical compound—something his scientist created—they were delivering it to him when the truck crashed, and you were exposed to it. The rest of it was compromised or burned up. As soon as he can get more, he wants to inject all of us who work for him with it.” Boston rubbed his forearm as if imagining the poison seeping into his system. “Just another reason to pop his head off his neck.” Savvy faced him. “It’s not that easy. Shit. He’s got that ring to protect himself now, and once they have a way to make more of the compound, the whole way war is waged will change. And Sagan will be in charge.” Boston bit his lip. “Okay, blow up the shit, destroy the ring, and pop his head off his neck. My to-do list is getting awesome.” She motioned with her head toward the buggy, ready to do business immediately. Boston shook his head. “But here’s the thing. The compound? In the right hands? It could be an answer to a lot of the energy problems we spend a huge chunk of our military’s time trying to solve. It could be one of the best things our generation produces for the ones that come after.” “I think the potential for evil outweighs the need for energy.” She turned to face him. “You think people are clearly defined by good and bad? Is it that easy for you?” His dark hair ruffled in the ocean breeze, his eyes now hidden by his sunglasses. “It can be.” “Then what are you?” He lifted his chin in challenge. She exhaled in a whistle. It was good point. What the hell was she? Before her recent time with Kal and Sara, she would have said evil as the day is long—for what she could do, for what she wanted to do, for what she had done, especially to her own family. But when she was pounding on someone with a red aura, she felt right, almost good, like she had a higher purpose. “I’m ready to get back, that’s what I am.” Savvy ended the conversation by walking back to the buggy. Boston followed after a few seconds and lifted Trooper into her lap. As usual, she could feel her power pulse and strengthen as she returned to the house. Boston’s jaw tensed when she glanced at him. It was a tough job, trying to keep her in line. She wondered if he would live through it.

Chapter 21 Consistency Silas had settled in at his compound in Spain and even given himself a day to relax, though he spent it silently willing Savannah to heal. Now he had things to do besides watch the live feed into her world, but he was having trouble making himself do them. He tapped his fingers on his desk. It looked the same as the desks in Maryland, California, and Ireland, among others. He craved consistency, even if it was manufactured. He called the scientist back in the US, knowing full well his timing was shit. The bastard was probably sound asleep. He surprised Silas with a crisp answer. “Yes?” “I’d like you to report your advances so far. You’ve had the ring nearly forty-eight hours now.” The scientist sighed in exasperation. “Well, I’m extracting the Compound E left in the ring and trying to develop it to be more flexible, as you requested—protective to you, but not quite so stifling to the woman. At the same time I have two assistants running algorithms to identify possible locations of more of the compound’s essential ingredient for you. We’ve hit a snag. I’ll work it out, but I’ll need more time. The ring is almost done, though, so at least I can offer you something.” “Will it have a larger radius, like I requested?” Silas looked at his bare finger. “No, sir. I’m working with the tiniest fraction of the substance we have left—which could be used to further our future development efforts if you’d part with the ring…” Silas didn’t respond. “The ring will be done in three days’ time. It will be dulled enough that she can test the boundaries on command. And, as I must remind you, without command.” “But can she still touch me? Can she physically lay her hands on my body?” The thought of it filled him, sending blood to his groin in a rush. “She can, and she will be an average-strength woman when she does so. But again, to remind you, any human can kill any other one—with a gun, with a knife.” The scientist waited. “Your warning has been received, but don’t you see? She wants to feel my blood slip through her fingers. She seems addicted to the pain she causes.” Silas hung up because he felt like he was exposing his more vulnerable side. However, he knew his obsession with Savannah was probably quite apparent since he’d opted to use the remaining Compound E to get closer to the woman sooner, rather than further his weapons-development plans. Setting limits had never been Silas’s strong suit. He kicked his feet up and rested his expensive shoes on his desk, regarding Savannah as she slept in one of his beds thousands of miles away. She looked almost peaceful in sleep, the moonlight highlighting the lovely slopes in her profile. He was dying to trace her jaw with his tongue, to command her to do things and watch the hate in her eyes as she complied. To have someone so strong, so filled with fury submit to him would be the ultimate high. Silas had plenty of experience with the feeling. His mother had been forever infatuated with his father.

Housekeeping for the great Baron Sagan was a source of pride. The drunken night his father had dragged his willing mother to bed was the high point of her existence. She suffered from an unending draw to the power the man could provide, and Silas became the ultimate chess piece in a game as old as time. He was the heir to the throne. It mattered not to his mother that the throne was built out of human bones and floated on a sea of blood; she wanted her son to have it. When Silas was younger, his half siblings from various mothers had never viewed him as remotely equal. His chores included bringing them food and snacks. Two of his older brothers took to throwing pennies at him whenever he entered the room. His father saw him flinch once and rained a beating down on his head, screaming at his mother the whole time. “You claim this boy is mine? See how he flinches? He’s a coward. And not of my blood.” His mother had hung her head in shame. And his father had dictated that his brothers always keep their pockets full of change to throw until the boy learned to accept the pain and shock of the hits. His mother encouraged him as he hardened, whispering promises to him. “Those children? They are soft, not what Baron needs. You’ll see. They’ll fail, and then he will claim you. And the riches he has will be yours. Your future, your children—they will want for nothing.” He still remembered his tearful reply. “But he hates me!” His mother had slapped him then. “Never say that about your father. Ultimate respect. Only. Forever. Without him, we would be on the streets.” So Silas had completed his chores, accepting the welts that came from the abuse he suffered, and then every chance he got, he made his way out to the very streets his mother feared. There he’d met up with Jack. Jack was rich as shit but acted like a human. He’d smuggled the twelve-year-old Silas a beer to dull the pain of the marks he bore. And like that they were bonded: confidants, troublemakers, and brothers. Silas loved Jack fiercely. Though they experimented with every trouble they could find, they always had each other’s back. They grew into teenagers exceptional at shoplifting and stealing from the rich people in their lives to provide the distractions Silas needed. Jack didn’t need them, but he gamely ventured into the shadows with Silas anyway. And as things in Silas’s house went to shit, Jack had listened with wide eyes. Having someone that cared how his damn day went meant more than his mother’s constant angling for power. Jack was the only brother he ever acknowledged. He wasn’t even blood. But it was promise they made to each other so many years ago, to never turn their backs on each other that mattered most. Jack had proven himself the day Baron was teaching teenaged Silas a lesson in manhood. When Silas had missed two nights worth of boy bullshit, Jack came looking. When he found Baron holding a gun on Silas, Jack had stood between the old man and his friends and talked Baron out of ending his best friend’s life. Silas’s men would never understand why Jack was off limits, why the man lived under a cloak of protection no one had ever witnessed before. Until Savannah. He needed her for different reasons, but the commands came from the same part of his soul. Seeing Jack woo her had caused his whole brain to seize up. And then the fools who’d been too drunk to care about his orders? The whole night had been a clusterfuck. Jack was fine, fortunately. Silas had spoken to him by phone the day before, and he’d warned him off of Savannah. He’d also reported that she was healing well, and so blisteringly fast, which Silas could

confirm because of his constant gawking at her. As a test case for Compound E in humans, she was fascinating, as well as compelling as a woman and unparalleled as a killer. Savannah turned then, as if she could hear his thoughts. She yawned, her gaze found the camera, and she smiled in a way that didn’t make it to her eyes. She dragged her index finger across her throat before pointing at him. He groaned with pleasure. She was like him—broken down to nothing. He recognized the walking dead in her.

*~*~*~* Toby stood in the dank, night-filled room of the abandoned house with Teresa a week after their last meeting. The pizza delivery guy had started him on a treasure hunt again. But seeing Teresa at the end of it was worth the trouble—and of course, working to free Savvy. “So let me get this straight, this dumbass is hiring some housekeepers, and you’re scheduled to be one?” Teresa nodded. “That’s the plan. No weapons. It’s amazing that our connections have opened this up.” He looked her up and down before asking, “How much of this has to do with my sister?” “Well, I was going in either way. We’ve been watching the Sagan family for almost two decades. This opportunity is something we’ve coveted.” She shifted from one foot to another. “You keep saying we but you aren’t close to old enough to have been following anyone for twenty years.” He took a step toward her. She took a step back. “We is my employer. They employ the forgotten. Witness protection program? That’s their applicant pool. Reduced sentence for military war crime? They have them by the short hairs. This family has been involved in way more than the usual crime. They’ve always wanted to dabble in world conflicts.” “No one pays enough to go into a house like that without a weapon.” He took another step toward her, and she held her ground. “Some motivation isn’t monetary. And they’ve trained me well and I owe them.” Her gaze lingered on his lips. “This is personal for me too. Your sister is in a position to help us, maybe. And if I can get to her, I can keep her informed and hopefully alive.” “How likely is that? I mean, I don’t know how much time she has left anyway.” Toby gripped his own forearm, feeling the bite of his fingernails. “Tell me what you know. Starting tomorrow, if I’m selected and hired, I won’t be able to talk to you.” She waited as he wrestled with his loyalties. Eventually, he came to feel like this was his only option. Teresa had a chance to tell Savvy to get the hell out of that house. “The doctor Savvy saw after her accident told me the mice they’ve been testing to try to recreate what happened to her got super strong and then attacked the others before dying. I need her to get out of the house so we can get her treatment.” His palms felt moist, but his mind felt less burdened after sharing that information. “He has a treatment?” She looked interested. “Not yet. I haven’t heard from him. I was waiting until Savvy was here.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Does he have some? Compound E, that is? The substance?” “He might. He was testing the bits left on Savvy’s clothes the night of the accident.” “I’ll need his number.” Teresa pulled out her phone. “I don’t have it memorized. I’ll get it from my house—but wait, this won’t affect you trying to help Savvy, will it? Shit, I’ll go to that place tonight and get her. I’m sick of waiting.” He punched his hand. “You would die before you got to the gate. Why do you think we’ve waited all this time to get on the inside? If we could have busted through the front door, we would have. And we have armored cars. Remember, the minute you’re dead, Savvy has no motivation to stay alive. What’s the doctor’s name?” After hesitating, he told her. He knew they would find it in his phone records anyway. He was becoming accustomed to how invasive the agency could be. But Toby trusted her; it felt amazing to have someone on his side—not looking at him like he was crazy. And it didn’t hurt that she was so pretty. He waited as she spoke sharply to the person she called. A moment later she looked back at him. “He’s dead. That doctor died in a fire when his lab exploded.” Toby felt his eyes widen in surprise. “When?” he managed. “How did…” He trailed off. How easily she’d related the information. He heard it much harder. Savvy’s chances of reversing her poisoning had dwindled to nil. Teresa slipped her phone in her pocket and closed the distance between them. “Hey, that doctor would have been great, but we have researchers raring to get a hold of this, ready and able to do a whole lot more for Savvy. Let me get her out alive. Then we can worry about the rest. I’m sorry. Was the doctor a friend of yours?” Toby shook his head. “No. My friends have faded away. It’s been all about Savvy since the accident. They didn’t understand how important it was for me to be with her. She’s on the edge, you know?” Teresa touched his arm. “I know.” “What was it? What put you on this path? You said it was personal.” Toby covered her hand on his forearm with his. “Let’s just say being a housekeeper for the Sagans was my family’s business. I know just how they like their sheets folded because I watched my mother do it a million times. And I also watched the beating she took when I messed up one of the rows of sheets in the linen closet. She said it was her. That she’d been careless.” Teresa looked down, and her swallow was audible. “Is your mom okay?” Toby took his hand off hers and tilted her chin up so she’d look in his eyes. She shook her head. “She died. Internal bleeding. I’ve never been back to that house. Until tomorrow that is. Fifteen years after I followed my mother as she staggered out of it.” Toby nodded. This woman had her own demons. “I’d like to see a good lady live this time,” she added softly. “I’m getting your sister out.” “How about you get two good ladies out of there? You and my sister,” he countered. Teresa gave him a sad smile before taking to her tiptoes to give him a gentle kiss. He was shocked to find she was interested. “Why’d I have to find a guy like you right now? After all the damn time I’ve had on this planet…” Toby pulled her against his chest and kissed her hard.

Chapter 22 Do It The next afternoon, Savvy pulled on her sneakers, ready to take a walk with Boston and the dog. She felt almost completely better, though she still limped for the cameras as Boston had requested. Doc continued to be amazed by her recovery. It had been only a week since she was gasping on the sand. He’d jotted down tons of notes on his last visit, and Savvy assumed these were then delivered to Sagan. The doctor was less thrilled with having to examine Trooper, but did so before leaving. Apparently the dog still had some bruising and a slight rib fracture that might cause him to yelp if pressure was applied, but generally, they were a recovered pair. Trooper had already found his leash and now chewed on the metal hook. Boston knocked once and waited for her to admit him into her room. After she did, he laughed at the dog. “Did you check around?” She stood and wrestled the leash away from him to clip it on his harness. Boston nodded. “No missing signs, and I called the animal shelter. So far no one’s looking for this little guy.” He reached down and gave the dog a pet. He kept his eyes on the animal while he delivered the next news. “He’ll be here tonight.” A chill went through Savvy. She’d almost slipped into the rhythm of being held captive with just Boston keeping tabs on her. “Thanks for telling me.” She bit her tongue, knowing the conversation was being broadcast to the man in question. She kept her apprehension inside. They were silent until they’d walked a good distance from the house. “You told me in my room for a reason,” she noted. “Why is that?” She unclipped Trooper, who trotted down to the water. “I want him to know you know. He likes the element of surprise, and I wanted to take that from him.” Boston began skipping stones. Savvy didn’t let her eyes linger over the pile of rocks that covered her wedding band. “And yet you didn’t want to hand it to me outright either.” She found a stick and lobbed it to Trooper, who attacked it with gusto. “Go easy, crazy dog!” she called to the dog. “You’re hurt!” “As are you.” Boston stepped closer. She looked at her feet as he put his lips close to her ear. “Tonight will be tough. If I could, I’d get you out now. He’s pissed. And he’s been denied. I just think you need to know what’s going to go on.” She covered her mouth and nodded for him to continue. “Instead of the usual party, he’s requested that you and few of his favorites be waiting for him in his bedroom.” Boston paused until she looked at his face. “He does stuff there…he’s equipped to proceed as he chooses. There’s no one to stop him.” “Except me.” She picked up the stick Trooper dropped at her feet. “You can’t. I just want you to think of your brother. We’ve got to get back, but here’s the MO: He’ll have you dress to match the other girls, meet him at the door, and follow him to his bedroom. There he

will bind all of you. Then he gets out his toys and does the same things to each woman, one after another. It’s mind games. If you show any resistance, he’ll show you the assassin near your brother in a live feed. The assassin will have directions to kill your brother if Sagan is hurt. Do you understand? Nod if you get it.” She nodded. “You’ll keep Trooper tonight?” Boston agreed and stepped in the direction of the house. Savvy looked from the view of Sara’s ocean to the little pile of rocks that represented her love with Kal. Doing this would keep Tobias alive. But then what? Would she ever get out of here? This wasn’t going to work. Fighting Sagan couldn’t be the solution. But what else could she do? Every fiber of her being longed for his death. When they stepped through the backdoor, they entered a negotiation in progress. Upstairs, someone was pleading. They climbed the stairs from the basement to the second level to find the commotion. Boston grabbed Savvy’s arm before she could put it together. In the hall was a lineup of housekeepers, carts behind them. A man held a gun to a little girl’s temple. Savvy swooned, the child’s crystal gold aura stunning her briefly. The housekeepers behind the girl were a mix of gold and red, but the child shone pure, glistening. The man spoke Spanish, and Boston translated in her ear: “No children. That’s the rule. You stay, but no children. They get in the way. The boss doesn’t like it.” “I had to bring her; no one would take her. Please. She’s my daughter. My daughter. Please.” The woman responded in English. Savvy handed the softly whining dog’s leash to Boston. The man with the gun was surrounded by an aura so red it was almost maroon. She could feel its pull. “Don’t,” Boston hissed. “He doesn’t like the rules disobeyed.” She gave him a hard look. “You’ll watch this happen? What has he made you in to?” With that she vaulted the banister and landed behind the gunman. Others down the hall pulled their weapons as she disarmed him. Savvy stood in front of the kneeling girl and addressed the crowd. “No. Not today.” The child’s mother broke rank and pulled her daughter to her chest. Savvy took a peek over her shoulder to see even more gunmen behind her. Red dots appeared on the little girl’s forehead from their high-powered weapons’ scopes. Savvy changed her tactic and put the gun she’d freed under her own chin. “If she dies, so do I.” Maroon aura got up and took a step in her direction. She released the safety, meeting his gaze. “Do it. I dare you. I’d love to feel the blackness this will bring.” Suddenly, Savvy knew Sagan was approaching the house. His gravity and hers pulled at each other. A magnet and a knife. Downstairs the front door opened, and Savvy could hear his whores scrambling into place. She heard no further sound except his footsteps on the stairs, and then his gaze washed over her like a breeze—up her leg and grazing her thigh, over her breasts and then to her face. She turned a bit to see his expression. He was furious. He didn’t yell; he just stepped toward her. “Put it down.” “The girl gets to leave. With her mom.” Savvy narrowed her eyes and began to apply pressure to the trigger.

“Your brother will pay.” “His life is not more important than hers just because I love him.” Savvy took a step back, and she could feel Boston before he got to her. The auras had dulled since Sagan walked in with his stupid ring, but Boston still put off a glow. And fortunately she’d already commandeered a weapon, so adrenaline was plenty to keep her going, even as she felt her powers grow shaky. “Don’t you dare, Boston.” She felt his approach slow. “Fine.” Sagan stalked over to the mother and daughter. “Go. You’re free to go. Boston, take these two out of here. Trooper whined from where Boston had tied him to the banister, but Savvy kept the gun under her chin until she heard a car start. Sagan came to loom over her as they stood toe to toe. “I wasn’t going to kill her.” She lowered the barrel and put the safety back on. “He was.” Savvy nodded in maroon aura’s direction. “And they were.” The other men lowered their guns as well. “I think you have a rule, and they were going to follow it. Can’t have kids here because you’re such a spoiled brat?” He smiled at her, and the whores, who had trickled up the stairs after him in matching silver, gasped. “Boston will do anything I tell him. Anything at all. Why don’t you go get dressed. I’ll see you in my room in ten minutes.” He left her without an answer, walking past his women as they turned to file back down the stairs behind him. Maroon aura held out his hand for his gun, clearly irritated as the men around him began to snicker. Savvy shook her head and took the weapon with her as she went to her room with the dog. As she poured a water bottle’s contents into Trooper’s bowl, she saw a box, probably with her outfit from dickface in it, neatly centered on her bed. She refused to open it. Instead she wasted time, looking at the water, laying on her bed, and petting the dog until she heard Boston come into his room. She raced over and opened their adjoining door, relieved to see that his aura, while muted, was still there—and more gold than red. Her powers had not completely been stifled this time. Sighing with relief, she leaned against her doorframe. “They’re fine. I dropped them in their cousin’s neighborhood.” He sat on his bed. “He’s going to make me make you go up there. You have to change.” Savvy nodded and closed the door. The gun was heavy in her hand, and a huge part of her wanted to take it up to Sagan’s room. Instead, she slid it into her sock drawer. After that she took a very, very long shower, ignoring Boston’s repeated knocks. Finally, the temperature dropped in the bathroom, and the steam dissipated to reveal Boston, looking extremely uncomfortable. She took a towel from the bar inside the stall and wrapped herself in it. Boston spoke softly. “He’s getting more and more pissed. Please don’t let him make me use that kid and her mom against you. That whole scene sucked.” “Okay. I hear you.” Savvy brushed her hair after drying it with another towel, and he left to give her privacy. She went to the closet and picked out a long skirt and T-shirt to go over her fancy lingerie. She wished she had plain cotton underthings, but that wasn’t in her fashion vocabulary at the moment. Twirling her hair into a bun, she opened the door barefoot. “There’s no making you put on these clothes?”

“No way in hell. He can put his Princess Leia captive outfit in a pipe and smoke it. Fucker. I can’t believe I’m going to have to see his goddamn penis.” She stomped over to the door to the hall. Boston stopped her with a hand on her back. “Can you at least wear this?” Savvy saw her diamond necklace in his hand. She held out her wrist, and he wrapped it on. “Do you want me to walk up there with you?” “No. And don’t look at me when I come back either.” With that she closed the door behind her and headed up the stairs. When she got to Sagan’s elaborate door, she hesitated. Do you knock at an orgy? Is everyone’s door already open? Shit. She was saved from a lengthy decision-making process when the man of the hour opened the door. He still wore his suit, but the jacket was off and he’d loosened his tie. The silver ladies were bound to a series of poles, placed in a circle around the room. They writhed and pouted, seeming really aroused by their current predicament. Savvy locked gazes with Sagan. With everything in her she wanted to fight him, hurt him, make him pay. He held out his hand.

*~*~*~* Teresa kept her eyes forward and pretended to listen to the guidelines the head housekeeper laid out for her. After the mother and daughter had been removed from the residence this afternoon, the jobs of the newly assigned housekeepers had been redistributed. Teresa couldn’t believe she was still here. Her cover had been as close to blown as it could have been, because despite all of her training, which demanded that she stay undetected, she hadn’t been planning to watch a little girl die in front of her. Savvy showing up and changing the dynamic had been incredible. Seeing her vault fifteen feet like it was nothing? Crazy. Teresa had been ready to snap, to army roll to the first attacker when Savvy’s feet hit the ground. She was not the gentle, soft lady in the pictures at Toby’s place. This woman had been honed into an athlete with the kind of body that even in repose looked strong. She’d been calm, clear-headed, and determined —and ready to end her own life, if need be. The agency had postulated that Savvy was possibly working with Sagan. They’d hypothesized that the woman was susceptible to him, or even in love with him. That didn’t seem to be the case. “Teresa? Did you hear me?” She nodded at her new boss, looking down at her sloppy handwriting. While she’d been piecing the case together mentally, her hands had been busy taking notes. Multitasking at its finest. “Yes, I clean the girls’ rooms and bathrooms. Never go beyond the second floor.” Sagan’s office was on the first floor. She knew this from the handy tour they’d been given after they’d put on the stereotypical uniforms. Teresa couldn’t wait to dust that room. The sooner she had the information the agency needed on Compound E, the sooner she could grab Savvy and be gone. Teresa tried to avoid thinking about her being upstairs. The whole scene was off-putting. She’d been undercover before, and it’d been as easy as slipping on a new shirt. But this place brought out the stress in her. The fear in her. Her mother in her.

*~*~*~*

Boston sat in his room petting the dog. Trooper whined from time to time, and he felt like doing the same. The mantra of keeping his brother safe pounded in his heart, in his soul. But Savvy’s words from this afternoon had embedded themselves in him. They repeated over and over in his head: “His life is not more important than hers just because I love him.” Savvy was impressive with all the fucks she didn’t give, but to put a gun to her chin without hesitating to save a little girl? That made him feel less like a hero than he’d ever felt before. And then he’d let her go upstairs to Sagan. He’d encouraged her to wear the diamonds on her way to her torture. Boston had been asked to do a number of things he disagreed with during his employ with Sagan, but grooming Savvy for him was the worst. He should be busting down the door, scooping her up, and getting her out of there. The man he once was would have done it in a heartbeat. But that guy was on a tight leash. He’d seen what the assassin could do, would do, at Sagan’s request. “His life is not more important than hers just because I love him.” Her logic replayed in his mind over and over like a stuck, skipped needle on a record. He petted the dog with one hand and clenched a fist with the other.

*~*~*~* Still reeling from having discovered Teresa’s feelings for him just before she disappeared undercover, Toby waited with Mike, her partner at the agency, in the basement of an abandoned house—the agency’s satellite office space of choice, it seemed. “Okay, we’re in,” the man announced, typing briskly on his laptop. “She switched the receiver on in the office. Thanks to Teresa, we are going to know more about this fucking bastard than we’ve ever known before.” They already knew Savvy was still alive; she’d taken a walk with the big guy after a dune buggy ride. They had a dog with them now. But there were rumblings that Sagan himself was back in the compound. “How much do you need before you get my sister out of there?” Mike was tightlipped as he shrugged. “We’ll know when we’re done.” Toby ran his hands through his hair and started to pace. “Maybe we can just get Savvy and Teresa out of there now, and bomb the fuckers afterwards?” Mike typed a bit more into the computer set up on a folding table before responding. “Listen, I know you want your sister out. And you keeping your cool and letting this play is the only safe way to do it. They’re creating something there that we need to have in our possession. Silas Sagan could and will start wars with his chemical compound. Teresa knows what she’s in for.” “Does Savvy?” Toby threw up his hands, frustration getting the best of him. “Hopefully Teresa will be able to clue her in. Remember, she’s abnormally strong. Right?” Mike was a burly guy with thick glasses, his computer knowledge a contrast to his giant biceps. “Waiting sucks.” Toby rolled his head, stretching his neck. “Yeah, wait until you get a load of being fake dead. That’s a ball. A set of balls even.” Mike returned to the computer as a hazy camera feed appeared. “So they have all this technology, and they won’t know you’re broadcasting from the mothership?” Toby pulled up a seat next to Mike.

“I built that little fucking thing, have some faith. It’s plastic—made it with a 3D printer, and I’m piggybacking on their signal. That place is wired as fuck. They could notice the miniscule bit of memory I’m pulling, but it’s not likely. And if nothing hampers it, we could get more than two months of footage before its battery dies. I hope anyway.” Mike pulled out an iPad and started typing on that as well. Toby held his head. He and Teresa had spent the night before tangled up in the sheets of a seedy motel. He was afraid of how much he missed her today, how much he wished she were here instead of Mike. But he was a cog in the machine now, part of the investigation. Toby just wanted to make sure the women were safe. And if he had to ride up to the compound and start some shit, he wasn’t afraid of that. Screw the agency and their agenda. He didn’t trust how they seemed to get their people. Or even that they had good intentions with the compound. After losing his brother-in-law and niece, Toby hated the idea of sitting back. It was a terribly guilty place to live.

Chapter 23 Powerless Savvy ignored Sagan’s outstretched hand and stepped inside his bedroom. “Your spot is there.” He waved to a stripper pole with a canvas loop attached. Handcuffs dangled there, fancier than any cuffs Savvy had ever seen. They were inlaid with what looked like gems. “Hands,” he demanded. Turning to face him, she gave him a pissed-off look. “Really? This is what works for you?” Sagan stepped forward, and she backed up into the pole on instinct. He grabbed the loop above her head, still not touching her. Her lips were even with the hollow of his throat, exposed by his open dress shirt. He smelled amazing, surely some expensive cologne with an unpronounceable name... “It’ll work for you.” His voice was quiet, a whisper for a lover. When she didn’t lift her arms, he released the loop and grazed the edges of his fingers down the side of her face, trailed them to her arm, and made his way down to her wrist. Chills found their way up her back and behind her neck. He slowly encircled her hand with his, pulling it upward. She knew he wanted her to make eye contact, so she turned her face away, looking at the girl two poles down instead. She was missing her G-string and stared at Sagan like he was water and she was dying of thirst. An act? Reality? It was crazy to even try to determine. Sagan clicked the cuff into place, the inside soft, lined with some sort of fur. Without meaning to, Savvy looked at him then. Whether it was the noise of the metal securing or the knowledge that she had essentially agreed to be under his control, she couldn’t ignore it. “These are just for show,” she told him. “So you know.” His breath was tinged with rum when he answered. “Wouldn’t you love that? But try. Try to get loose.” He put his hands around her neck, gently but still a threat. He loved to play games. Head games for sure. Savvy felt the tightness in her chest because of his ring like before, but it wasn’t as strong. She could still see auras, just dimmed. Except for his. She heard no screaming Savvy yanked hard on the cuff, finding that it held tight. She wanted to spit in his face. “Fuck you.” “No, I plan to fuck you. Feel free to enjoy it, though. When I touch you, you’re powerless.” He smiled and nodded toward one of the other women. “Now Rebecca here has already realized that being powerless in front of me only benefits her.” Sagan fought Savvy for her other hand and won, slapping the second cuff on with a snap. Then he stepped away from her, backward. “You see, I know you’ve been watching me, like I’ve been watching you. So maybe you can learn while we’re here.” He advanced on Rebecca, the silver girl with no bottoms, and slipped behind her. When he turned on the vibrator, she purred and writhed. He attended to her, but kept his gaze on Savvy.

“Watch,” he mouthed to her as he slipped the spherical vibrator between Rebecca’s legs. He pressed it against her as his other hand worked on revealing her breasts. “Open your legs. Did I tell you to close them?” he commanded her. She whimpered but complied, heels shuffling farther apart. Savvy looked at her own bare feet as Sagan grabbed a long phallus-shaped tool. “No. Savannah. Eyes up. You watch.” She shook her head and regarded only her toes. A loud smack brought her attention back to him. She looked up in time to see him slap Rebecca in the breast again. She yipped. “You only get pleasure if she watches,” Sagan told the now-naked woman. “If not, you get pain. Which do you prefer, Rebecca?” Rebecca bit her over-plumped lip. “Pleasure, sir.” Savvy rolled her eyes but gave him her attention. He gave her an elaborate bow when she’d done as he requested. The dynamics in this room were all in his favor. He slipped behind Rebecca again and started his procedure from the beginning. First the sphere until she was undulating, her nipples hard. “Beg for it.” His brow glistened with his efforts. “Please. Please. Please. Please.” He stepped in front of her, and even if Savvy had wanted to look away now, she could do nothing but watch. Sagan worked furiously between her legs, as if this woman’s pleasure was a musical instrument and he a virtuoso. He pressed the vibrating sphere hard against her as he pumped inside her with the dildo, working his mouth feverishly on her breasts. After a few minutes she came loudly, screaming and shaking with the power of it. He never stopped until she hung from the cuffs, legs just rubber underneath her. “Now what?” he demanded, stepping back. Rebecca staggered to her heels, which made Savvy feel a little better; the girl’s arms had been at a painful angle. “Thank you, sir. Thank you.” He nodded. “You’ll stand tonight. Until everyone’s finished.” “Yes, sir.” He turned back to Savvy. “Even when you had a choice, you watched, Savannah. You like to watch? Anticipate? Because I will make every woman in this room come that hard before I get to you.” Between women he washed his hands, and he had a separate tray of tools for each. He was meticulous. By the time he’d finished using a flogger on the woman next to Rebecca, he’d also displayed a dizzying array of sexual knowledge. While he made the next woman lose herself in his touch, he kept eye contact with Savvy, smirking every time the woman begged for more. As she watched him help the woman to her feet, Savvy’s knees almost gave out. He clearly knew how to play this game, attacking each silver woman with just the right toys and sensations. He was a tide coming in, and when he was at his highest point, he would drown her.

And Savvy was most afraid she would enjoy every second of it. Her body hadn’t been hers to control for a long time now.

*~*~*~* Nearly three hours later, Silas stood in front of Savannah, desperate for her. He’d just pleasured woman after woman, but it had only been foreplay. He’d wanted her to see what he was capable of, to know there wasn’t a part of her body he couldn’t use against her. He rolled the tools out from behind her on the cart, a lovely array: clamps, floggers, dildos, vibrators —a veritable buffet of orgasms. He licked his lips and met her eyes. Defiant. With her chin raised, she seemed ready to do battle. But under her light shirt, under the lace bra (the only kind he’d provided her) he could see she was aroused. This should have given him confidence. Clearly he knew the methodical steps to ensure a woman’s undoing. But with her he felt manic, panicked. He wanted to dominate her, elevate her, make her beg, and hear her demand. He picked up a feather, setting it right back down when the delicate instrument revealed the shaking anticipation in his hands. Instead he lit a candle and held it between them, the glowing heat representative of how he felt. When he was close enough, she blew it out. He shook his head and set it down. So disobedient. He stepped up to her then, sliding his hand in her hair, grasping it roughly. “It’s punishment you crave, then? Fine.” She barely reacted to his rough hand. “No. It’s not.” He put his mouth close to hers, almost nose to nose. He had to bend down a bit because she hadn’t worn the heels he’d demanded. Her green eyes widened, with anger being most likely the cause, judging from her sneer. “Fight me. That’s fine.” He touched her cheek then. So soft. Instead of the cakey makeup usually found on his women, it was just her skin. He bit his lip, longing to see that same cheek flush with the overwhelming sensations he had planned for her. “I don’t need the strength to rip your head off your neck to see through you.” She lifted an eyebrow. He rolled his eyes and stepped away from her, the distance registering throughout his body. She yanked on the loop above her head. Her palms were light blue; surely she was numb from her wrists to the tips of her fingers. “I can tell you can fuck. You know the right buttons to press. But I’m pretty sure a monkey could learn your sexual prowess.” She laughed a bit. “You’ve never made love to anyone.” “I’m sorry? Do you live in middle school with rainbows and school dances?” Anxiety burned within him, though he masked it with derision. “Make love? Seriously, I thought you had some fucking substance, Savannah.” The girls chained around the room laughed with him, muttering insults to each other. They hated Savannah, he knew. He felt her gaze pinned on him, undeterred. “You have to strap them down. You never kiss them. What are you afraid of, Sagan?” “Sir. You will call me sir in this room, strapped up for my pleasure.” “You wouldn’t know pure pleasure if it came up and slapped you in the nuts.” She was infuriatingly unafraid. “And you do?” He stalked back to her, hating to be away. It was her attention he needed.

“Infinitely. I’ve given and received pure, perfect love. Nothing you could plug in would ever top it. Do what you have to, but I won’t feel it where it counts.” The silver girls had taken to heckling her, but she only watched him. “Are you offering?” He damn near whispered it to her. She changed the topic. “Why are you so afraid to be exposed with one person? Have you ever tried that? One person who didn’t have to be paid or forced and who didn’t give a crap if you had a dollar to your name? Or is that an imaginary scenario for a man like you? Is that your worst fear, Sagan? That if people had a choice, you’d be all alone?” A chill started at the base of his spine as she looked him up and down and shook her head. With pity. Like she could very well see through him. Suddenly the ladies cackling around them in stereo infuriated him, overwhelmed him. “Shut up! Did I tell any of you to talk?” He picked up a whip from Savvy’s tray and walked the circle, giving each of their buttocks a solid rap before unlocking them and pointing them to the door. Each took her lash with varying responses, trying to see what would garner his favor. But whether they panted, cried, or screamed, they were sent out of his room in only their high heels. Finally the last of them sauntered out the door, leaving it open behind her. He lost the weak grasp he had on his control. “Close the fucking door! What kind of bullshit is this?” He kicked the door shut. It was just him and Savannah now. And she still didn’t have the sense to look afraid.

*~*~*~* He leered at her, and Savvy shot him a look that she hoped clearly said, “Suck a fat dick, asshole.” Sagan took huge strides to the windows, flinging them open like doors and mumbling, “I need some fucking air.” He was right; the room could use a nice airing out. It was thick with passions spent. The next stop in his tirade was the bar, where he poured himself a tall rum on the rocks. Savvy looked around his bedroom, which was really a giant penthouse at the top of this insane mansion. The windows he’d opened faced the beach; the windows on the opposite side would create an amazing cross breeze. Sagan must have followed her gaze, because he opened those windows too. The sun had long since set. The white sheers took off like kites in the breeze, and several of the candles lit to set the mood blew out, adding gray, twirling smoke to the atmosphere. He moved in the room behind her, but she could feel where he was. His ring’s suppression of her strength and supercharged senses was almost louder than the screams she normally felt when he was near. Closing her eyes, she blinked back the moisture brought by the thought of her daughter’s pain. It would have been wonderful to beat on maroon aura this afternoon. Would that have sent her back to the beach? Every moment without Kal and Sara felt like ages. Grating ages. She was a junkie, crumbling for just a touch of his hand, or to kiss her daughter’s cheek. She snapped her eyes open to find Sagan standing in front of a billowing sheer, which outlined him like a white aura. He stepped away, letting the sheer fly like a flag without his obstruction. “Here we are in the same room. You’re under my…care. Yet still you’re far away. How do you do it? I wonder, Savannah.” Kal had only called her Savannah once: when he said her full, given name on their wedding day.

They’d argued about it. She wanted to use their nicknames. It felt more authentic. But he’d said no. She tried to imagine it again, in place of the feelings she was desperate for. He’d put his hands on her face. “I will use your government name. This will be as legal as the Constitution. No mistakes.” She’d made a crack about his John Hancock, and then he’d kissed— “Open your eyes.” Instead of the man she loved, she saw only the man she hated. But in that moment, she began to see what she had to do. He picked up one of the vibrating spheres, turning it on. While he took sips from his drink, he ran it over her skin—her arms, her neck, between her breasts. “Free my hands. I dare you.” She stared into his eyes, watching the fear creep in for just a blink before the all-knowing-bastard look returned. “I prefer it this way.” To her hip he went with the ceaseless, powerful vibrations. “Of course you would. Because if I had my hands, I could leave. Or even worse? What if I touched you back? What if I made you feel something?” “You want to touch me?” He looked incredulous. “You’ll never know until you try.” She turned her head toward the windows that showcased the sea and let him make his decision. It was ironic; the first solid plan she’d developed entailed the very opposite of hurting him. It was Kal-inspired: using what she’d once been good at—before she got everything wrong— to try to reach this unreachable man. It seemed impossible. If she hadn’t been encouraged by her family themselves, she would never have even thought to try. But maybe it was also brilliant, as only those she loved most could be. She knew firsthand love’s power to change everything… Sagan kept moving the sphere, daring to get closer to the parts of her that wouldn’t deny his skilled technique. “I dare you.” She didn’t look at him as he swiped lower, under her belly button, with the toy. After a moment he set down the device, along with his now-empty glass of rum. The space in time where he worked to decide about unlocking her cuffs took forever, but she refused to look at him. The breeze tugged at her hair, freeing it from the hasty knot she’d tied it in. He let her loose slowly, creating pins and needles in the hands that had been above her head for so long. Once she could move, Savvy turned toward the balcony, opening the large French doors and stepping out into the night. She put her hands on the railing and waited, still feeling him. Thinking of Kal and Sara had forced her to realize that maybe her strange strength was supposed to not only beat the red aura out of people, but help the gold grow. Sagan came to stand next to her. “Are you going to jump?” “Your ring might let me die if I did.” “When I got here today, you were ready to send another bullet into your body.” He stood close, but not touching her. “I think I’ll always be ready to end it all.” He was silent. Together they looked at the stars across the endless horizon. Savvy took a cleansing breath. Killing Sagan would set in motion a whole series of evil murders she’d have to commit—the assassin, remaining loyal men... Teaching him to fall in love, using this ungodly pull

between them to show him how to care for another human being—that might have a ripple effect that could outlast their lives. She knew she was strong enough to destroy, but was she strong enough to deny her supercharged senses and emotions what they so desperately wanted? She faced him. “Thank you for unlocking me.” “Did it so you could fight me. With all these thoughts of you, it would be a disservice to not reap the benefits of your weakened condition.” Savvy closed her eyes a moment. It wouldn’t be easy—not even a little—sifting through all his red to find the one single thread of gold. Behind him, almost in an arc over his head, she saw a shooting star. A sign. From them. It had to be. Encouraging her to love, to add to the gold. “Make a wish.” She pointed past him. He glanced briefly at the cosmic wonder before turning back to her, dismissing the lights in the sky. “I wish you would punch me.” So, so hard. Savvy moved closer to him. The pull of wanting to kill him and trying not to was disorienting. She put her hands around his throat, then closed her eyes and centered herself. Instead of squeezing and hearing his gasps, which would have been so delicious she could almost taste them on the edge of her tongue, she let go. She rested her hand against his face—his evil, handsome face. She watched the surprise in his eyes and imagined she was looking at Kal. She let her husband’s face be what her heart saw. Savvy looked into Sagan’s green eyes and colored them brown, made them deep and loving instead of fearful and cold. “Has anyone ever just loved you?” She stared at Sagan through her feelings for Kal. Then she patted his cheek and stepped away, seeing the disbelief and brief hint of need in him. Savvy lifted her eyebrows and shrugged, walking backward a few steps toward the door. Sagan rested his back against the railing, his mouth open slightly with the shock of it, the strange sensation of being looked at with love. “There’s a whole world you know nothing about, Silas Sagan.” After turning on her heel, she walked out his door and left it intentionally open.

Chapter 24 Show of Force Silas looked at the open door for a while. She’d left, just walked out, and he’d allowed it. The epic, ballthundering fucking he’d been planning on, counting on, hadn’t happened. He wanted to punch someone, maybe himself, in the face. She’d cut through him so easily—straight to the bone. And it was cheesy bullshit. Greeting card nonsense. Nothing he’d ever even pretended to believe in. But inside, a part of him shook from the truth of her words. His mother had only cared to advance her standing. She’d watched his abuse at the hands of his siblings and father over and over, sending him back into it every day. He rubbed a hand across his lips. Jack was the only bright spot in his life—ever. He looked back into his room from the balcony. Sheer opulence. He could have anything, everything, and he almost did. But Silas Sagan had never had anyone look at him the way Savannah just had. He wanted to recreate the feeling. He sensed it had been the tip of an iceberg, like he was standing at a precipice, looking over a giant crevasse he’d had no idea he’d been avoiding. It left him unsettled. He wanted to go downstairs and force her—force her to look at him again and then fuck that look out of her eyes, make her put up walls. That’s what he knew how to do. Be on the other side, looking over. Feel hate, then repress it until it exploded. This waiting? He knew that was a place where he felt shit he didn’t want to feel. So he always hit first. Let the reputation of what he could do slap people in the face. The ultimate version of this would be having Compound E to wield. So many more people would know they couldn’t make him wait. Whole countries would line up outside his door to see what he could do for them. Savannah was his weakness, and he knew better. He knew he should go down and squeeze the life out of her. But for the same reason Jack could still waltz into his house and dance with one of his ladies, his obsession could walk out of his bedroom with no consequences. His phone buzzed. He left the balcony to find it on his nightstand with a text from Bugs waiting. The Cassos want a meeting. He responded quickly Tell them to fuck off. They claim to know you’re trading in illegal weapons. They want in on the action. Silas rubbed his temples before actually calling Bugs. “Where is this coming from?” he demanded when the man answered.

“I’m not sure. You know they’ve tried before.” Silas sighed. The Cassos had an age-old beef that had begun with his father’s father. The feud rose to a head a few times every generation, and their latest contention was that Silas wasn’t related to his father, so he owed them duty fees on his territory on and around the Maryland estate. Word on the street had to be that Silas was about to come into some serious money. All the vultures perked up when they heard this. He’d been hearing from “friends” and enemies out of the woodwork, all looking to get a piece. “Fine,” he told Bugs. “Set it up on neutral territory. I’ll be happy to spank their bratty asses in person. Tell them it happens now or not at all.” Silas disconnected the call. Maybe it was time for Savannah to see why she needed to wipe that look right off her face. She needed to see him in action, as a ruthless leader.

*~*~*~* Boston looked up to see Savvy waltz in the door, long skirt dragging a bit behind her. Despite himself he looked for her eyes. She ignored him. “I gotta walk the dog,” she announced. Trooper jumped down off the bed and yelped a bit. “Silly, can’t you slow it down? Want to go for a walk?” It was pitch black out, so Boston grabbed a flashlight along with his regular walking gear: a gun, his phone, the fanny pack. Savvy didn’t put on shoes, just picked up the dog and headed for the back steps. Boston had to trot to keep up. She looked okay, though her hair was loose now. Outside it took off behind her, whipping in the breeze off the water. As soon as they were out of range, she spoke. “I need to find out more about this Compound E. How close are they to replicating it?” Boston hated to ask, but he did it anyway. “Did he? Are you…okay?” Savvy finally looked at him, first his eyes and then his chest and back again. “No. We didn’t. He didn’t. I sort of shocked him out of it.” He knew he looked surprised when she smirked. “Is there anything you know about him that’s good?” She put Trooper down close to the dunes. Boston exhaled while he racked his brain. “God, not really. He’s a fucking bastard. Well, I guess…” He looked over his shoulder and saw two flashlights bouncing in their direction. He quickly finished. “He didn’t have me kill that housekeeper and her daughter—and Jack. He hasn’t had anyone kill Jack. But other than that he’s a shithead.” Boston flashed his light a few times and made out Target and another guy from the house. Savvy said no more but gathered the dog in her arms. Target shouted at first, bringing them closer. “Hey, we need you back!” Savvy and Boston walked slowly to meet them, the waves crashing on their left. “Boss wants to roll out. We have a meeting.” “All right. But I’ve got to stay with her,” Boston pointed out. There was no one else Sagan trusted. “No, she’s coming. And we have to be dressed and out of here in twenty minutes.”

With that, two other assholes showed up in dune buggies to move things along. Boston hadn’t even gotten to know what had gone down in Sagan’s bedroom, and he wasn’t going to get a chance. It was extremely odd that the boss wanted her out of the house when he prized her safety and seclusion above pretty much everything else. After parking the buggies at the house, Target told Savvy to dress in jeans and Boston to go for business, which meant a suit layered with weapons underneath. Savvy shrugged and went back to the room. Boston gave Trooper water before strapping on his uniform. Savvy knocked on his door when she was ready. He told her to come in and sat back for a minute. She wore skintight jeans, wicked black heels with spikes all over them, and a black tank top with a leather jacket. Her hair remained down, and her lips were now bright red. “Okay. Heels?” Boston had no clue what they were in for, but when he heard jeans, he’d pictured her dressed in sneakers and a ponytail. “I do my best work in heels.” She gave Trooper a scratch before heading out with Boston, letting him open the door. Sagan stood on the other side, obviously ready to knock. Boston watched the man appraise Savvy’s outfit and made a fist when he saw lust in his eyes. Savvy stepped to the side so Boston could come into the hallway. “Middle of the night field trip?” She had an edge to her voice. Sagan used his thumb to twirl the gold ring on his finger. Savvy licked her lips as she watched. She wanted that ring off of him. “Something like that,” Sagan responded. “Boston, see that she doesn’t kill anyone.” He led the way, but when they got to the driveway, he settled into a waiting black Suburban, and Boston lead Savvy to another in the line. Target crawled in with them and shut the door. Boston held his hands up in a questioning gesture. “Cassos meeting. Not sure why. Same old same old? I don’t know.” Target lit a cigarette. “Why the hell is he bringing her?” He pointed his thumb in Savvy’s direction. She rolled the window down a crack and gave Target a dirty look. “I don’t know.” “He drank a boatload of rum during the orgasm marathon,” Savvy reported. “Maybe he’s more insane than usual.” She crossed one leg over another, putting the killer heel between the two men. Target blew the smoke in her direction. “I would give my left nut to have the run of that room for ten minutes. Jesus fucking Christ.” “Really? It smells like perfume, ass, and desperation.” She turned her face to the window, and the breeze washed over her. “That sounds like my favorite smell ever.” Target bit his bottom lip and rubbed his palms together. Savvy rolled her eyes and stayed quiet. “So is he enforcing territory? Disputing profits? Acquiring business?” Boston didn’t like going in blind. “Shit if I know. Stay alert.” Target lit another cigarette with the end of the one he was finishing. Boston watched his surroundings as the convoy of four Suburbans rolled into a contentious part of town. There was a single restaurant between the two territories. The feud between the Cassos and the

Sagans was legendary. The Cassos were known for their brass-knuckle ways and loyalty. The Sagans were known for playing dirty and being unpredictable. When they arrived at the restaurant, the Cassos were already outside, waiting for the Sagan crew. The boss got out of the first Suburban, buttoned his suit, and headed for Boston’s car. “Oh, shit. Get ready, Savvy. I think you’re arm candy.” He wanted to give her a ton of advice, but she looked calm. She opened her door before Sagan could reach it. He watched her get out and then offered his elbow. Boston jumped out, buttoning his suit as well, and stayed as close as he could to her. He was able to overhear Sagan threatening. “Just know, the second my heart stops beating, the bullet leaves the assassin’s gun headed for your brother.” He smiled at her, but she refused to look at him. “Take my arm, Savannah. It’s all about appearances.” He touched her with his elbow, pressing the point. She gave him a hard look. “Take your ring off.” “Not part of the deal. Sorry. Does it hurt? I hope it hurts.” Sagan stopped walking. Savvy turned when she had passed him by two steps. “I’m not going until you do this properly, Savannah.” “This is how you do business? You need me to hold your hand?” She stalked back to him and looped her arm around his elbow. “Better. Follow directions. Is that so hard?” “Yes. Harder than your dick will ever be.” Boston watched the strain evident in her neck when she moved her long hair to her shoulder. He worried that touching Sagan actually did hurt her. Target stomped out his cigarette and tapped Boston on the shoulder. “What?” “Stay back. He wants to go in alone at first.” “Bullshit. He wants me to keep her from killing people.” Boston whispered the last little bit. “Not at first.” Target pointed, and Boston realized all the men had hung back. “Just Cassos and Sagan. Though they can bring girls.” “Shit.” “But be ready. If that chick loses her mind, we’re going to have a bloodbath on our hands getting to Sagan.” “I’m hating this more and more.” Boston touched his gun, but it gave him no comfort.

Chapter 25 Big Daddy Savvy was almost as tall as Sagan in her heels. He held the door for her and insisted on putting his hand at her lower back as she navigated the foyer of the dimly lit restaurant. A stout man sat at a large, round table in the middle of the room with an outrageously decorated woman feeding him bites of pasta from a bowl. He had one of her breasts in his hand, squeezing it and rolling the nipple in what looked like a painful way, yet the tattooed lady leaned into his touch. Her black hair was cut in a hard line of bangs, which framed her painted eyes. One of her hands disappeared under the table. “Not right now! Shit, Juicy.” He pushed her away. The way she retreated made Savvy narrow her eyes. The auras on both seemed a murky red, but with Sagan’s ring running interference, it was so hard to tell. “I got business. Sit still. Put your tits away.” He slapped her across the face. Savvy made a fist and started to smile. “Don’t.” Sagan’s words landed on her cheek. He stepped around her and sat, expecting her to sit in his lap after he patted it. Savvy shook her head once and stood behind him. “Your pussy don’t listen to you anymore, Sagan? You’re losing your touch. Watch this.” The man poured his drink on the table in front of him. “Lick it up. Suck it dry.” He pointed at the spot on the table with his pinkie. The woman worked on a smile, her cheek still red from his slap. She bent down and began licking and sucking on the white tablecloth, leaving stains from her lipstick behind. The man watched her in an oily way before putting his hand on the back of her head, holding her still, smooshing her nose flat. “You’re messing up the tablecloth. Whose gonna pay for that shit?” “Oh, fuck this.” Savvy stepped from behind Sagan’s chair with every intention of making the asshole eat the tablecloth. Ring or no ring, she could hurt this asshole. Sagan hopped up and grabbed the top of her arm. “How other people run their house is their business.” He smiled, but it was forced. “Let go.” Savvy looked from his hand to his eyes, letting him know she hated it. “Maybe we should have the ladies leave,” Sagan suggested. “I don’t have time for your discipline or mine. You have something you want to say? Say it.” He put his hands on Savvy’s hips to remind her to stay still. The man still had Juicy’s head pinned, and it looked like she was having trouble breathing. Savvy reacted, seeing the implications of her actions clearly in her head before she set them in motion. She reached for the tablecloth and yanked it hard—like a magic trick. And despite the man’s firm grip on Juicy’s head, Savvy pulled it out with a snap. The remains of the man’s drink and the bottle he’d poured from tilted over, splashing all over him. He released his captive, and the color flooded back into her lips as she gasped.

The man began cursing up a storm and swiping at his pants as he stood. He pushed around Juicy and advanced on Savvy. “Come for it, big daddy. I’m begging you,” Savvy taunted. His red aura sharpened before her eyes, fed by his anger. Sagan stepped between them, turning to face her. “You need to go outside. And you also need to remember that your brother counts on your best behavior for his next breath.” She peered over Sagan’s shoulder as he spoke. Both Juicy and the man drew knives from under the table. It was less than a second’s second, her hesitation, but her mind was busy. It would be so amazing to take the knives from those assholes and hack through Sagan, turning him into bloody red ribbons. Savvy gritted her teeth so hard they squeaked. She had to choose right now, right here whether her love for her brother, her desire to do what Kal and Sara had asked outweighed her need for Sagan’s evil soul to leave his body. She had to make her emotions, her sense of self stronger than her strange power.

*~*~*~* Silas watched as her eyes focused behind him. He was trying to figure out how to keep her in the room— so she could see him in action—when she put her hands around his waist and pulled him in for a hug. He reciprocated out of shock and turned to look as Savvy slipped under his arm. She kicked backward, forcing him to take a few stumbling steps in reverse. He could hear the night light up with gunfire outside. It was an ambush. A horrible ambush. Savvy pulled a knife from each of her palms with a roar. She’d stopped them with her body rather than letting Cassos take him out. “Take off the ring!” she shouted as she punched Cassos with a bloody fist and kicked Juicy in the stomach. The doors splintered as Cassos men with guns tried to get in. “Off, Sagan. Off!” He believed in the talent of his men outside, but he knew she could be a monster. Whether she would kill him—that was the worst question, and he didn’t even have seconds to wonder. He slipped off the ring and put it in his pocket. Savvy staggered a bit, as if something hit her, and she put her hands near her ears. Silas watched one of her palms heal before his eyes. “Get down.” Savvy wiped her face with her healed, but still bloody hand, smearing the red under her eyes like war paint. The door opened, and she was ready. With hands and kicks, she rendered the first three men in the room unconscious immediately. Then Boston busted in, and she seemed to hold herself back. “Let’s go.” He grabbed at her arm. “Got to bring the asshole.” She tilted her head in his direction. “I meant both of you. It’s crazy out there; we’re outnumbered.” Boston got low, though the interior room had no windows. Silas met them in the middle. “How many?”

“Easily ten to one.” Boston stopped to listen to his earpiece. “It’s getting worse. We’re surrounded.” Savvy shook her head. She looked down and kicked one of the Cassos guys who was coming to. “Keep Sagan alive. I’ll handle it.” She reached inside Sagan’s jacket and removed his hidden pistol, her bloody hands staining his suit. Amid the explosions rocking the building, he threatened her again, stopping her hand. “Don’t think of leaving.” She exhaled and shook her head. “Keep that ring close, ’cause the minute you don’t have it, you’re dead.” Boston let her walk outside, and together they ducked as the door was riddled with bullet holes. “She’s gonna die.” Silas pointed at his now loose asset, his obsession. “She’s our only chance right now, or we’re all gonna die,” Boston countered. “And then the assassin will have a textbook-sized list of people to kill.” The screaming outside, where Savvy had gone, was inhuman—a combination of disbelief and pain that made both Silas and Boston cringe. The gunfire seemed to be tapering off, and Silas was about to try to peek outside when the motor of a vehicle crashing close to the side door shook the paintings off the wall. Boston shouted, “It’s her! Let’s go.” The man shuffled him into the backseat like a president in danger before crawling over him to return fire. As soon as they were in, Savvy look off like a madwoman. “Boston?” she called, her eyes never leaving the road. But he didn’t respond, too busy taking out the Cassos detail following in fast cars. “Sagan?” she said, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror. “I’m about to pass out. Can you drive?” He crawled over the seat to find her bleeding from multiple gunshots. He locked eyes with her again, just in time to see them roll back in her head as she lost consciousness. “Shit!” He grabbed the steering wheel and pulled her to the passenger side. He settled behind the wheel and hit the gas pedal, tearing through town as his helicopter appeared above them in the trees. He headed straight for it as Boston leaned over to check on Savvy. “I’m out of ammo,” he reported as he felt for her pulse. The helicopter came in low, and the cars behind them instantly began trying to retreat, squealing their tires and leaving smoke trails. The snipers in his choppers brought hell down upon the cars as Silas kept driving, all the way back to his compound. “She alive?” he asked, unable to look at her as he drove. “Yeah.” Boston put pressure on the gunshot wound in her shoulder. “You still got the ring? We should get her away from that maybe…” Silas thought about tossing the ring out the window, but he pulled it out and slipped it on instead. What she had done, the army she’d stopped, was terrifying. He couldn’t be unprotected from her. “Tell the chopper to pick me up at the fairgrounds. I’ll get away from her for a little while.” Sagan pulled through the gates, which had opened at precisely the right time. He tore up the driveway and slid out, getting on his cell phone to call Doc while he got in his Ferrari. In the rearview mirror he watched as Boston took Savannah from the Suburban. She was magnificent. Her head lolled, dangling at an impossible angle, the spotlights catching the steady drip of blood from her

elbow. He put the pedal to the floor and blew back through the gates, eager to get her the space she needed to survive. The Cassos had blown everything to shit and taken an unprecedented chance at killing him. Why were they so eager? Bizarre. Nothing about it made any sense. Maybe they were on to him, knew about his plans for Compound E. But they certainly hadn’t seen Savannah coming. He couldn’t help but swallow a smile. As long as she healed, tonight would be a success.

Chapter 26 Wakes When Savvy woke, it took a few seconds for the room to come into focus. After a moment she found her hand resting on Trooper and Boston sitting across the room. A surge of raging energy that desperately wanted a red-auraed outlet told her Sagan and his ring were gone. There was no filter at the moment, which was both good and bad. She closed her eyes and willed herself not to act, reminded herself of the need to protect Tobias by keeping those around her alive. The combination of catching her breath and putting up her guard was not even close to reflex yet. Her gunshot wounds were not nearly as painful as when she realized that Kal and Sara hadn’t come to her as a reward for pounding through so many red auras. “No. No!” Boston looked alarmed as Savvy covered her face with her hands. Trooper began to whimper. “What? Pain? You need the doctor? He just left. Savvy, what?” Boston sounded frantic. She knew she really should soothe him. Instead she felt her chin start to shake. Biting her lips, she pulled her knees up to her chest and sobbed. She needed them. She needed what they gave her. They were the life in her heart. The moments of nearness to them kept her soul intact. Over the sounds of her weeping, she could hear Boston on the phone, asking for help. Trooper licked her face, probably getting a tongueful of tears. She tried to steady her breathing, tried to think about what had happened at the restaurant. When she’d been fighting to save Sagan, it’d given her added strength, knowing she would soon see Kal and Sara. Every gunshot was another possible way to see them. She’d killed people this time. But she had to—there was no other way to escape the restaurant and commandeer the truck. Maybe that was it…she’d killed rather than just causing injury. And instead of a reward, a precious, mind-healing reward, she’d gotten nothing. Just vacancy. God, it hurt so much. It wasn’t legal or fair how addicted she was to them. She now cried so hard she had trouble taking a breath. The doctor eventually came in and assessed her, despite her not helping him out at all. “I think this is just emotional, not physical,” he told Boston after a moment. He was right. That was her exact problem. Her entire family existed only in the emotional. She could no longer physically touch them. She had to try again, to see if she could touch them. If she didn’t kill anyone, maybe. Boston and the doctor seemed shocked when she sprang from the bed in search of an aura. She slipped past them out of the room and staggered a bit, grabbing the handrail as she got the stairs. Trooper was hot on her heels, and Boston’s hands came to her shoulders from behind her. “Please come back. Tell me what the hell is going on!” The gold in his aura flowed through her; she could almost hear the goodness under his skin, mixed with the red. At least she still had that. She could still sense the auras.

Savvy turned in his arms, shaking her head. “It’s just…I lost something. And I might not get it back.” “Your wedding ring? We can get that for you if you need it.” His handsome face searched hers as his arms held her tight, his gold getting stronger. “No, it’s not that.” She looked away, locking her gaze on the doctor. He looked back at her hungrily. She felt like a specimen, part of a science experiment he’d like to conduct. “Can you take me somewhere?” she asked Boston suddenly. “Depends...yeah…sure.” He put his arm around her. Savvy ignored the doctor and went through Boston’s room to her own. She changed out of the soft pajamas someone had put her in, gently touching the gunshot wounds that were now just faint circles peppering her torso and leg. She dressed and pulled her hair into a ponytail. Sneakers on her feet, she leashed up Trooper while Boston waited with his car keys. “Where are we headed?” He stepped aside as she led the way. “I need to go somewhere with good people for a few minutes. Just down the road, maybe to the boardwalk?” She reached the garage and yanked open the door. Trooper bounced around happily. The dog seemed to love the car, which wrenched Savvy’s heart considering the ride that had brought him to her. Boston got in the driver’s seat and hit the remote. Unlike a house garage, he had to maneuver around the other cars parked there to exit. Opulence as usual. They took one of the black SUVs that hadn’t been part of the Cassos convoy. “How many guys died last night?” “It was two nights ago, and on our side or their side?” Boston asked. He put the blinker on before entering the road that led to the boardwalk. It was less than a 20-minute drive to the populated tourist spot. “Does it matter?” She reached over and smoothed Trooper’s head, which balanced on the armrest between her and Boston. “How are you feeling?” He looked at her carefully. “Reborn—again, relentlessly. I thought I would get to see them.” She rolled down her window and let in the morning air. “I didn’t.” “I’m sorry. You saved him. And me.” Boston adjusted his rearview mirror. All she could to was nod. That was what she had to do. For Tobias. For Boston’s wayward brother. “He’s thankful.” She shook her head at the thought. “He’s entitled. And an asshole.” “He can hear you. Probably.” Boston pointed to the car’s fancy interior. “And I bet he has one of those micropenises.” She gave the interior of the car the finger. “And that’s how it is.” Boston didn’t ask any more questions, and Savvy was happy with the silence. Since the accident, she’d avoided places that would remind her of her family. It was like balancing on a blade with bare feet; all she could do was switch from one foot to the other. The pain would always be there. But hugging Boston this morning had warmed her a tiny bit. Just a fraction. So she wanted to try to stand near other people who weren’t so evil. She wanted to feel better. She let her fingers dance in the breeze her open window created as the boardwalk drew near. Was it only two years now? Was it two years ago already? Since she’d scolded Sara for doing the same

thing… “You’re going to get your hand chopped off by a passing truck. Pull your hand inside!” She’d given her daughter a hard look until she did as Savvy had asked. The boardwalk was always a favorite. Kal wouldn’t admit it, but he was a fiend for the saltwater taffy they had there. And Sara always loved the ocean. She’d worn her bathing suit under her clothes even though the water would still be ice. It had been only May. She remembered the moment, the way she’d stolen that gentle joy from her daughter. Yet while complying with the direction, Sara had smiled. “Daddy’s a good driver, Mommy. Seriously.” “Seriously? That’s a new one.” She’d looked at Kal. He’d tried to hide a smile and failed. Sara had turned her attention to two of her dolls, using them to act out a scene on her lap. The window was still down, and the wind had lifted her hair, pushing it into her face. Instead of closing the window, Sara had just kept moving it out of her face to play. So tenacious and impractical. Savvy remembered the simple things: the tiny dimples by her knuckles were a miracle, the way she was so quick to hug—strong too. The hugs were so strong. Savvy stopped herself. She could be lost forever in the memory of her daughter. She wanted to be lost forever in it. But she took more deep breaths and closed her window, craving Kal and Sara again. “You okay?” She didn’t answer Boston as he pulled into the parking lot. At 10:00 am, the beach was fully awake; families unpacked their chairs and towels, getting ready to have fun. She reconsidered her impulse. Nothing would give her the fix she needed. It took effort to fill her lungs, and remembering to exhale around the loss of them required concentration. Nevertheless, they got out with Trooper. Boston put a tennis ball in his pocket. He watched her like a bomb that might go off. The casual conversation she overheard about homework was the first knife in her psyche. And then the next family they passed was joking about dinner. That was another knife. She increased her pace as they went from the boardwalk to the sand, the dog trotting happily next to them. He recognized the beach as a play spot. It happened in a second, and her system was so primed for red, when it was eclipsed by gold, it was a shock. Trooper reared up when the four children approached, and Savvy took to her knee so he wouldn’t accidently hurt one. They formed a square around her, surrounding her. The pure gold filled the air as they asked questions about the dog. Boston filled them in, lying easily to create an invented past for Trooper. Meanwhile the gold filtered through Savvy’s system, taking the edge off her raw nerves. After a minute she lost her grip on the dog, who happily licked the little hands surrounding them. She could feel Boston’s hand on her shoulder, blocking a bit of the golden auras that enveloped her. Savvy brushed his hand off. After a few minutes Trooper ran off after the ball Boston had thrown. The children turned to watch, and he pulled her to her feet. “You okay?” She nodded, though her legs felt weak. Too stubborn to use him to stabilize herself, she concentrated on staying upright. Trooper was amusing the kids, yet they remained positioned around her in a square. She could see

Kal’s favorite taffy shop in the distance, and instead of overwhelming sadness, she smiled. The sensation here wasn’t like mainlining her family—the way it had been after the beatings—but it was okay, still a reward. Savvy decided to pretend this was a gift from them. The thought that having killed those men had altered her favorite drug still scared her. She clasped her hands in front of her. Maybe before she’d killed she’d had a shot at getting to where Kal and Sara were. Somewhere on that otherworldly beach. Maybe the door was closed now. She bit her lip. The soothing balm the children provided seemed like first aid, so she pushed her deepest concerns away and just watched as the dog made the kids laugh. It was over too soon. Trooper collapsed at her feet and chewed the ball as the children wandered away, back to their beach towels. Boston gave her the respect of silence as she stood in the sand long after they had left. “I need to find out more about what’s in me.” She looked at his sunglasses, seeing her own reflection in them. He nodded once. “A lot of people want what’s in you, so you know.” “Let’s go back.” Trudging back to the car, she was grateful for Trooper, who seemed to have bits of the kids’ goodness tangled in his fur. “How do you feel?” Boston unlocked the door with the remote while they were still yards away. “You look better.” “I feel perfect, physically.” She picked up a sandy Trooper and helped him into the backseat after Boston opened the door. “The chemist will be by tomorrow,” he added when they had closed the doors. She didn’t ask any more questions, knowing he’d tipped his hand to give her as much of a heads up as he could. The chemist had to be the one who’d created Compound E.

Chapter 27 Essential Ingredient On her third full day of work, Teresa finished cleaning the last room on her list, and her mind turned to her other tasks. As far as she knew, the microphone she’d planted was still live. She stepped into Sagan’s office to empty the trashcan. The man himself hadn’t been seen in days, so the trashcan was as empty as she expected. She gave a brief glance at the transmitter and found it was still in place as she tilted the can into her garbage bag. Just as she righted the can she heard Silas Sagan clearing his throat. “Do you have instructions to be in this room?” he asked. She took care to look at her feet. “Sir, this floor is on the general cleaning list.” He tilted her face up toward his. “I’m betting you weren’t paying attention to the instructions very carefully.” Teresa made eye contact, doing her best to appear timid. He seemed amused. “Usually when I find someone in my office unexpectedly, there are ramifications. Your name?” “I’m no one, sir.” She found it was better not to lie. “You’re pretty. You like this job?” He dropped his hand. “It’s a good one. The pay is amazing.” She crinkled the trash bag in her hand. “My other girls make much, much more. Let me know if you’d consider it.” He nodded at her, a dismissal. “I’m surprised it’s a choice,” she blurted. She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Stupid, stupid to taunt him. He looked at her. “Is that a wish or a criticism?” “Maybe both.” She covered her mistake with a shy smile and hurried from the room. This wasn’t her first undercover assignment, and hopefully it wouldn’t be her last. But seeing Savvy covered in blood and carried in by Boston a couple nights ago had tripped a switch in her head. Yet the woman had bounced back from damn near dead and was walking the dog not two days later. Her bosses wanted to stop Sagan, but she knew the power source the woman held in her body called to them as well. In her head she could see Toby’s anguished face, his losses too great for more pain. Teresa wanted to return his sister to him. Whole. And her desire to see that happen had tainted her tongue. She’d offered a quick retort when she should have kept silent. Making Sagan suspicious would only end badly.

*~*~*~* The chemist brought in his own folding table and set it up in Silas’s office. Assorted results and numbers were now spread out on the hard plastic, and Silas had been listening intently. But then he drifted off, knowing Savannah was in the house somewhere. She was better, according to Boston and the doctor. The Cassos meeting had been a giant fuckmare, but their explosive gathering had stirred the pot, so to

speak. They’d tipped their hand, and he now obsessed over who might be leaking information. Finding the new cleaning lady tits deep in his office was a wake-up call too. Savannah hadn’t been discreet—jumping banisters and tearing apart the whole Cassos organization. Now there was word that the Cassos were simply a pawn, that they’d been fed the information that Silas was ready to deal a weapon. He wasn’t. Not yet. Not even close. “So the blood samples were rendered completely useless,” the chemist was saying. “Any attempt to separate the Compound E from Savvy’s cells, whether done chemically or by centrifuge, actually incinerates the biological material.” The chemist pointed to a few pictures of melted test tubes. “It explains why it was so easy to fuse the ring’s potency to your DNA.” Silas collapsed back in his chair, feeling a surge of panic as he imagined that happening to Savvy herself. “And how are you on finding another store of the essential element?” “As you know, the volcano is currently active in the area where we found the original deposits. No one’s created anything that can stand up to lava yet. So we wait.” The man paused, but when Silas said nothing, he continued. “And of course I have crews out at two other locations with similar conditions, but as I’ve stated before, I do believe the essential element in Compound E formed as a direct result of a meteor strike.” “So the only bit of it we have left lives in her?” Silas steepled his fingers and touched them to his lips. “Well, yes. And since it can’t be extracted from her, if we kill her—or someone else does—that’s gone.” The chemist began stacking up his papers and findings. “And after this last incident, I had the doctor attempt to put her in a medical coma—” “I know. Her system burned through it.” Silas ran his hand under his desk, an old habit he’d picked up from his father. He’d assumed it was a nervous tick, but as his fingers ran over a small bump under the lip of the drawer, he finally—in that moment—realized what his father had been doing: looking for unwanted technology. Silas put his hands in his lap, tamping down the urge to rip at the bump with his fingernails. He mentally reviewed the conversation he’d just had. Way too personal, way too confidential. He scribbled his next direction on a piece of paper: Go to the source of the essential ingredient and work from your lab there. Be on the next flight. He handed it over and nodded his permission for the chemist to leave. The man looked puzzled when he didn’t issue any more threats, as per usual, but Silas just pointed at the door by way of an answer. Someone was listening, and maybe even watching. It was time to bring in Bugs. The pretty housekeeper’s quick retort earlier echoed in his ears, and Silas gritted his teeth. Something was off about her. His gut was never wrong.

*~*~*~* Toby had begun to feel like a bat…or something that lived under a rock. It felt like many, many hours since he’d seen daylight or smelled fresh air. The basement of the abandoned house wasn’t much of an office, in his opinion. And Mike, Teresa’s partner, wasn’t nearly the company she was. There hadn’t been

much going on. Monitoring Sagan’s office had been mostly busy work. Until just a few minutes ago. The man had returned and seemed to be having a rather enlightening conversation in his office. Toby couldn’t hear everything, but he could tell it was good because of Mike’s sudden focus. Then a sound had caught his attention, and evidently Mike’s as well. The man had stopped typing suddenly as the loud tapping noise came through again. Toby didn’t know why that brief interruption caused Mike to lose his cool, but he began typing again and talking on the phone all at once. “Shit. Shit!” “What the hell?” Toby had watched as Mike’s head damn near popped off. It had seemed things were looking up. But now he’d launched what seemed like a cyber assault. As an afterthought, Mike had tossed an explanation over his shoulder. “That noise was Sagan finding the device under his desk. Fuck. Fuck.” “You’re sure it wasn’t just, like, interference?” Toby had sat down hard. Mike spared him an annoyed look. “Do this for fifteen fucking years and you learn shit. It was too deliberate. The man is onto us. Right now I’m installing a fatal virus and praying to everything holy that the tech guys on his end haven’t seen this one before. If they’re as good as I am? They’ll track that chip back to us in under twelve hours. And then Teresa’s dead.” Toby leaned back in his chair and gripped his kneecaps. “Let’s get her out. We’ll grab Savvy too.” “It’s not that easy. She knows what she has to do if she’s made.” That sounded ominous. Like it probably wasn’t run out the front door but more like some kamikaze bullshit. “How will she know?” Toby heard a knock on the door upstairs. Mike jerked his head toward the sound. “That’s what he’s here for. Go upstairs and help him. The faster you move, the sooner this gets done. We were supposed to have a few weeks to prep you.” Mike dismissed him and picked up a phone in between typing on two different keyboards at once. After hiding and being so careful here in this house, it seemed crazy to simply go up and open the door, but Toby followed instructions. Edgewood, as the new guy briefly introduced himself, barely said a word. He just sized Toby up and down after closing the door. Finally, the absurdity of it all hit him. “Listen, someone has to get my sister; someone has to get Teresa.” Edgewood sighed. “We’re going to have you die. That’s the only shot they have.” “Um, what?” “Remember we discussed faking your death? Today’s the day we do it. It’ll send a message to Teresa and your sister.” Toby took a deep breath. Finally he was going to help.

Chapter 28 Death The next day Silas had Bugs in his office—again—assessing the electronic bug. Fucking ironic. He’d already scoured the room for others and found none, but Bugs hadn’t been willing to remove this one until he was certain he’d stopped its transmissions. The technology on the little listening device must have been impressive, because Bugs had adjusted his ball cap and pulled out a small magnifying glass from his bag of tricks. “This is some next-level bullshit, boss,” he reported as he finally extracted it from underneath the desk. Silas’s mind raced. He had so many enemies. The information he’d leaked yesterday could have myriad consequences. He felt exposed and weak. And he didn’t fucking like it. He turned on the TV in his office and skimmed the channels, waiting for the other shoe to drop, when it did. Just not the shoe he’d been expecting. Breaking news footage flashed across the screen. There’d been a suicide at the bridge, and Toby Raine was apparently dead. Graphic video of Savannah’s brother speeding off the bridge, only to be pulled lifeless from the water by a passerby cycled through on repeat, interspersed with clips from his numerous recent television interviews, pleading with the public to help him find his sister. Silas sat hard in his chair, knocking Bugs from his crouch to his knees in the process. Bugs turned his attention to the television and said out loud what Silas was thinking. “Oh shit.”

*~*~*~* After an afternoon stroll—she wasn’t quite back to jogging level just yet—Savvy stepped inside the house as Boston held the door for her. She shed her sandy shoes and brushed off Trooper. The goodness clinging to his fur from the sheer joy of playing dissipated like sugar in hot water. The house was evil. And Savvy knew Sagan was here—in the building. She could feel the muffling of her senses his ring brought. She trotted up the stairs quickly, hoping to delay any interaction. Boston carried Trooper like the spoiled baby he was. “I’m going to catch a quick shower, okay?” She didn’t wait for his answer and went straight into her bathroom, closing the doors behind her. The hot water ran over her, and though she knew her skin was clean, she wondered if she’d ever feel that way again. She scrubbed her scalp, still feeling the blood that had been matted there, though it had to be gone. She’d been able to tell someone had tried to clean her up while she was unconscious, and she tried not to think about it. As she rinsed out the conditioner, the constriction in her chest suddenly grew. The band around her lungs tightened. Sagan was coming closer. She hurriedly put on the white fluffy robe as the latch disengaged on the bathroom door. Hazy, moist air surrounded him as he stepped inside. She tied her belt and held her chest. It felt like his

ring had rejuvenated its strength. Or maybe she was still a bit weak. “Savannah.” Sagan reached out, almost as if he were afraid she wasn’t really in front of him. “Creeper. Did you ever learn not to walk in on a girl?” She concentrated on filling her lungs. Over Sagan’s left shoulder, she saw her bedroom door close after Boston made eye contact. He seemed to want to say something, do something, but instead he barricaded her in. She tried not to feel betrayed, but it seeped in anyway. “I need you to dress quickly. I’ve laid out an outfit for you. We’re leaving.” “We are? Care to tell me why?” “Things are escalating, and I need you in a safe place.” “So Maryland isn’t safe anymore?” “Not for you. Not for now.” He retracted his extended hand and stuffed it in the pocket of his suit jacket. She assessed him, drawing her eyes from the top of his head to his shoes and back again, trying to figure out the sudden change. “Who’s coming?” She pulled her wet hair to the front, laying it on the lapel of her robe. “Just us. No Boston. He’ll watch the dog.” “And my brother?” She narrowed her eyes. He darkened a bit, his full lips frowning briefly. “Nothing about that arrangement’s changed.” His aura screamed for a moment around the blockage of his ring—bright, vicious pain before falling silent. He was lying. Something was wrong. He looked at her feet. “Like I said, get dressed quickly. I expect to be in the chopper in under ten minutes.” He turned and strode through her room, flinging the door open as if his word was gospel. She followed in his wake, finding a skirt, satin tank, jacket, and high heels on her bed. Boston came in after the outer door to the suite slammed. They could say nothing to each other, so she asked him with her eyes: What’s going on? He looked desperate to tell her something. The veins in his temple stood out as his jaw clenched. “I’ll watch the dog.” She nodded. They were locked in to all they couldn’t say or do. “Great,” Savvy noted without enthusiasm. She gathered up the dictated outfit and added a few undergarments before closing the door after Trooper had padded in. She quickly changed and pulled her hair into a knot, leaving it wet. She sat on the floor and Trooper came right over, tail wagging. It killed her to leave him here. He felt like a direct connection to her family. There was a knock on her door, and Trooper gave a quick bark. She hushed him before it opened. Sagan was back. “We have to go.” It was a tense minute. She didn’t want to leave. She couldn’t leave the dog—especially knowing something was going down in Maryland. “I’m going to refuse.” He turned quickly and punched her door. Startled by his outburst, she had to hush Trooper again. He trotted past Sagan into Boston’s room. “Listen, I know and you know that right now I can force you into the helicopter. And I will. But I don’t want to. We honestly don’t have the time.” He looked close to breaking. “Fine. My brother stays safe; that’s your job. Boston comes, and Trooper comes. Agree to those terms,

and we leave now. No contest.” He punched the door again, eyes widening at her demanding disrespect. He smoldered for a few seconds. She crossed her arms on front of her and lifted her brow. “Okay. Let’s go.” He held out his hand again, and this time she took it, not sure why he was offering her the contact. He pulled her to standing, and when the door opened, Boston, who had clearly been listening, had Trooper leashed and a bag of his food clasped in his hand. The silent trip up to the reinforced rooftop was Savvy’s very first. The helicopter waited. Boston had to pick up Trooper again as they got closer to the lightly swirling blades. The interior of the helicopter was a pristine white, and although Savvy had never been in one before, she bet this was top of the line. She sat opposite Sagan and took Trooper in her lap after she buckled. Boston sat next to her, leaving a seat between them. He looked calm, as if being stuffed in a helicopter with ten minutes’ notice was an everyday occurrence. The blades picked up speed. As they lifted off, Savvy looked down toward the now-familiar beach in time to see three housekeepers staggering in front of two of the most particularly awful henchmen living in the house. The men’s auras were burning, even through Sagan’s ring. “What’s happening?” she asked. “Don’t worry about it.” Sagan pointedly refused to look at the scene below. Savvy put her fingertips on the glass, feeling powerless. She hated that. The helicopter swung in the opposite direction, obscuring her view. She looked at Sagan, and he returned her gaze with a steely resolve. He then crossed his arms in front of his chest and raised his brow. Son of a bitch. He was going to do something evil to the women; she fucking knew it. Teaching this fucking bastard to love something instead of ripping his heart out of his chest continued to be a bitch. She began to wonder if it could actually be done.

*~*~*~* Going to the beach should have given Teresa a more hopeful feeling. Although the sand behind the house got occasional foot traffic, it was for the most part desolate. If she hadn’t known that Sagan always protected his perimeters when shit was going down, she could have hoped for a distraction that would allow her to defeat the two men behind her and escape with the other two terrified housekeepers. There were two dune buggies, each hooked up to a covered trailer, parked nearby. She had to try to stop the men from taking the other two women, and find out what was going on. Luckily, the two assholes behind her were fired up about something and chatting as they directed the women to keep moving. “The hell he’s going to do now?” “The brother was the leash he kept her on. Now he’s gone.” “I bet she’d be the fucking Devil in the sack. I wish he’d toss her our way for a bit.” Teresa knew then that Toby had faked his death. She tried to gather her thoughts. Over her shoulder she heard the helicopter fire up. She turned quickly and could see Savvy buckled in as a passenger. More proof. Shit. Shit. Sagan was running scared, and Toby’s “death” had sent her a signal. Mike knew she’d been made, or

that Sagan was suspicious at the very least. “Wait.” She turned and held up her hands. The two men looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language. “It was me. These ones had no idea.” She pointed to the women on either side of her. The two bastards looked at each other before snickering. “You know what gets me hard? That chick’s fucking tits. He wasn’t specific, was he?” “The old ones can prolly still suck some dick too. I always say, a dead pussy that hasn’t been fucked is a wasted one. Get in the fucking box, bitches. Boss said all new hires. And that’s you.” They advanced on her. The other two housekeepers crawled into one of the covered trailers, and the man slid the lock into place. The first bastard pulled her against him after slinging his assault rifle around to his back. He was already hard. “His dick is tiny, so I’ll make sure he gives it to you up the ass first,” he told her. “You know, warm you up.” Teresa faked a gasp of horror as the second bastard pressed himself against her back, grabbing her breast with one hand and sliding the loaded gun against her leg. She knew these types, and her fear would inspire them. She just had to keep from getting in the trailer they had for her. She began squirming, doing her best to push at them, but not hard enough to knock them away. As she inhaled, the stench of their constant cigarettes filled her lungs. “Kiss me now, bitch.” She pressed her ass hard against the man dry humping her from behind. He took the bait and lifted the back of her skirt, shoving his hands down her panties. The one in front of her grabbed her face and pushed his tongue in her mouth. She moaned around it as the man behind her explored clumsily. “Shit. I got to get this now.” Teresa took the man in front of her by the cock. It barely filled her hand, and she suppressed a chuckle. As the man behind her inserted his fingers everywhere he could find, Teresa stole the pistol from his weakened grasp. She began to stroke off the one in front of her as she pulled the trigger, shooting backhumper right in the thigh. She anticipated his muscles clenching with the pain and forced the gun out of his hand as he fell to his knees, screaming. The women in the locked trailer added their screams as well. She held the remaining man’s cock more tightly, bringing the now-smoking gun around and shooting him in the chest before he could swing his assault rifle around from his back. She pushed him to his knees. A quick assessment showed no other obvious weapons, so Teresa turned and pumped another bullet into back-humper’s neck. Though they weren’t yet visible, she knew the men guarding the perimeters around her were going to come, were already coming. Back-humper passed first, gargling on his own blood. Chest wound was still moving, but sluggishly. She didn’t have time. Just didn’t. And she had two choices: the fast, empty dune buggy or the one with the other housekeepers in the trailer. Shaking her head, Teresa wrestled the assault rifle from chest wound, who punched her weakly in return. She slapped him across the face and slung the assault rifle over her shoulder like a purse. All the luck in the world was on her side as she saw the keys already in the buggy. She fired it up as the sand around her filled with the pops of gunfire. In between shifting gears, she fired back with the rifle. She heard a ping on the metal of the trailer, and one of the women inside renewed her screaming in a

more painful way. She headed down the beach, the quickest and smoothest route. In her head, she knew running was futile. There were so many of them. Two made their way toward her in a dune buggy of their own, and two on foot dove for cover as she sprayed the sand with bullets. She passed two houses, taking the buggy as fast as it would go. Looking over her shoulder, she watched as two SUVs came screaming onto the beach. Shit. The best she could do now was get to cover, so she turned and pulled under the fancy decking of the closest house. She waited, knowing they would be on her in no time. She didn’t even have a key to let the ladies out and give them a chance to run. They were sitting ducks. Teresa said a prayer for the first time in a million years. The sound of footsteps above her on the deck drew her attention as the SUVs roared up and parked. Through the slats in the stairs, she could see all the boots on the ground. “Gentleman, can I help you?” called a voice from above. “We just need to get our buggy back,” one of Sagan’s men responded. “That’s all. Then we’ll be out of your hair.” The footsteps came down the stairs, and a man with long, dark hair took a peek at her. She waved using just her fingertips as her passengers cried from inside the trailer. “Teresa, any reason you’re under my porch?” he asked. “Ahhh…” She cut her eyes toward the jerks above. “Any reason you know my name?” “I make it my business to keep tabs on what’s happening around here.” He shrugged and turned his attention back to the men. “You can have the buggy, sure.” The boots advanced. “But…the woman stays with me.” Teresa did a quick recall of the area. She’d passed two houses; this was the third: home to Jack Devlin, who was occasionally seen on the Sagan compound grounds. The man with the dark hair looked at her again. She held up three fingers and pointed at the trailer. “All the people in it stay with me.” Jack’s bare feet rocked back and forth. He was almost blasé about standing nose to nose with Sagan’s army of assholes. “We can’t allow that. He needs them,” one of the assholes responded. “You know the rules. His rules. Go ahead and call him. Tell him I’m here in the flesh, looking to cash in a favor.” Jack ducked under the deck. “You hurt?” he asked her. Teresa realized she was underwear-less thanks to the back-humper, but she wasn’t hurt. She shook her head and pointed at the weeping trailer again. “Women?” “Two.” This was definitely Jack Devlin. The handsome man had a sexy demeanor that didn’t come through in pictures. She could very well be going from the frying pan to the fire. “You’re safe now. They can’t touch you here with me. Can you get them out?” “They’re locked in.” “You’re a Sagan housekeeper?” Jack lifted a brow. Teresa looked at her maid’s outfit, disheveled and accessorized with guns. “Sometimes.” He almost smiled, but nodded instead. “I’ll be right back.” Jack addressed the assholes. “…And he said?” There was silence. “I need the key to the trailer, then

I’ll get you your buggy.” The sound of keys hitting a palm gave Teresa relief. “Sagan said to keep the fucking buggy,” an asshole added. Jack ducked under the porch again while tossing his last request over his shoulder. “Then you better get the fuck off my property.” He didn’t ask Teresa to give up her guns as he crouched next to the trailer and began inserting keys. She came out from the driver’s seat and felt the adrenaline begin to drain. He unlocked the bolt and pulled it off, sliding the top off the trailer. The two women inside were wideeyed and weeping. One held her leg, and blood seeped around her fingers. “We’ll get you treated.” Jack moved her hand out of the way and assessed her injury. “It’s not bad, despite the blood. Just a flesh wound.” He turned to Teresa. “You might have to stay with me for a while, just to make sure they aren’t lying in wait or anything.” He smiled then, showing off his dimples and white teeth. “I love getting women out of Sagan’s grip.” Teresa had a wild, hopeful thought that he might be okay. This might actually be a safe place.

*~*~*~* Silas fought every impulse to look at Savannah. For the entire helicopter ride and following plane ride, he looked at the ceiling instead. This plane was smaller than his personal one, but he was doing his best to get lost with his asset, get away from anything that might reveal the end of the tenuous control he’d had over her via her brother. He tried to keep calling her that, keep thinking of her that way. Just an asset. He was taking her to the chemist, to where the compound’s essential ingredient had once been located, for strategic reasons, he told himself. He tried to pretend he didn’t damn near require her to look at him again like she had that night in his room. Silas had replayed it time and time again—not the circle of beautiful women begging for his touch, not the night he demanded he be sucked off all night long, even while he was asleep, even when he went flaccid. He had the most decadent, perverse things to ruminate on, but nothing touched that moment when she’d stood on his balcony and touched his face with that look in her eyes. He glanced at her face despite actively trying not to. She was already looking at him, as if she could hear his thoughts. Like she knew he was desperate for her. He forced himself to look at the floor. He had everything else to be worried about. Who wanted her? Who had been listening to his conversations? How could he keep her alive and extract the compound? Yet every part of him wanted to force her to look at him again in that way. He took out his phone and scrolled through his messages from Bugs. The man had been able to reverse the recording device, providing a transcript of his conversation with the chemist. Whoever had heard it now had the same information he did about Savannah’s condition and about creating more Compound E. And the volcano-meteorite connection was likely easy to track. He put his phone away as the plane began descending. They’d soon be at a place that had belonged to his grandfather—a man long since passed. It would be rustic, compared to the regular opulence. And he’d rented an apartment nearby for Boston and the fucking dog. He was going to spend a lot of time alone with Savannah.

*~*~*~* Toby was in different clothes, in a different safe house, in a different town. He watched a reporter detail his death on the TV news. They’d used his profile from his Instagram account and now segued into one of his impassioned, impromptu speeches outside the police station. He’d been willing to do anything to get Savvy back, and now—as he dealt with the ringing in his ears—he could cop to that declaration. But as far as he could tell, it was for nothing. The news again showed the footage of his non-helmeted trip off the low bridge on the way into town. Edgewood had leaked it to them after Mike altered the time stamps. It had all been carefully orchestrated. The shaky camerawork obscured the fake CPR, and the passing motorist was Edgewood. When the ambulance and police had arrived, they’d conducted only a quick investigation of the body before they began to pore over the accident scene, leaving a shallow-breathing Toby to his handlers. The ambulance crew zipped him into a body bag and removed him from the scene. It was done. Edgewood was now seated on the couch across from him, reading a book, apparently more than confident that the images on the screen would match what he needed them to be. “When will we know more?” Toby asked. It had been hours. The transfer of his “body” to the morgue and his eventual release took a long damn time. Edgewood took out his phone and scrolled through texts. “Teresa’s out. She has two women with her. We have no identification on who those women are.” “So it could be Savvy? Why can’t I call her? Why isn’t she calling me?” Toby stood and put his hands in the pockets of someone else’s jeans. So bizarre. “I told you before, Teresa’s out but still undercover. She’s three houses down, and that’s all we have. This is the most important time not to make a mistake. We have some crucial information. It’s like making sure your fly is zipped after getting all dressed up. Details.” He put his phone away and flipped his book back open. Hours. If Savvy was going to blow people to hell now that he was supposedly gone, they would know it by now, wouldn’t they? She had to be one of the two women with Teresa. Waiting was going to kill him.

Chapter 29 Safeguards The area outside the car window was populated, but foreign and gorgeous, vaguely tropical. Savvy was pretty sure the locals spoke Spanish, but sadly she did not. Dora the Explorer only gets you so far. Sagan had described the house where they’d be staying as rustic. Savvy shook her head as they exited the SUV. The sprawling lawn was easily over two acres. He informed her that Boston and Trooper would be at an apartment building a few miles away. Ultimately, she let it happen. Had to. Didn’t want to. But, she might do her best work alone with him. The driver helped them with their bags, and Savvy got a look at the “rustic” house. While Sagan had words with him, she stepped into the foyer. The vaulted ceilings were amazing. She found a sitting room to her left and an office to her right, and the staircase was grand as she slipped around it to see the sleek kitchen. Windows were everywhere, though the night obscured their view. They’d traveled all afternoon. Savvy opened the fridge: stocked. Prepared food with instructions carefully written and attached to each of the dishes. Rustic. She rolled her eyes as she closed the fridge. Sagan slipped into the kitchen quietly, but she felt the ring and turned around to face him. He looked a bit lost. He cleared his throat. “Where is this place?” she asked. He shrugged. “If you’re hungry, there’s food. At least there should be.” “You’re not going to answer me?” She crossed her arms under her breasts and gave him a hard look. “What are we afraid of, Sagan? The Cassos? Is that why you were killing maids?” He loosened his tie and undid his top button. Not answering. He walked toward the fridge, and she stepped in front of him, waiting for the eye contact he was forced to make. His jaw clenched as she looked him up and down like he might just make a good meal. Or a punching bag. “All the safeguards are still in place.” He sighed, responding to her unspoken threat. She shrugged this time. The tension was tight as he sidestepped her to open the fridge. He pulled out the top casserole and read the instructions. She leaned against the counter and watched him figure out the oven. He slid the food in and continued to undress, freeing the buttons on his shirt. “We’ve got, like, forty minutes before that’s ready.” “How long are we staying here?” His gaze darkened. “As long as it takes.” “Eventually you will have to tell me what we’re running from.” Savvy pushed away from the counter, and he grabbed her arm as she tried to pass him. The ring touched her skin, and she hissed. She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t look at him with the hate that flowed through her.

He whispered, just a bit louder than a breath, “Savannah.” Turning her head away from him, she waited. “That night. On my balcony. That night…” He trailed off. She swallowed her smile. Biting her lip, she let the silence torture him. The cat had taken the baited mouse. “Look at me like you did that night.” He squeezed her bicep harder. Finally she turned around to face him. His green eyes were almost wild, and she recognized it in him: the primal, basic need for love. She’d seen that same look in the mirror before she’d sliced open her wrists the first time. And the second. “You can’t command that of someone. It has to just happen.” She looked at his hand, his knuckles white. “Earn it.” He let go and held up both his hands. She scooted by him and headed for the staircase. He was right behind her; she could feel his gaze on the back of her neck. “Let’s look around,” he suggested. “You’ve never been here? Do you own this place?” She glanced over her shoulder. “I do now. The bedrooms are upstairs.” He pointed at the ceiling. She was very aware that her ass was his view as she ascended the stairs. After looking at the gigantic house, which had two master bedrooms and four guest rooms, she gave him grief. “Seriously? This is rustic? How spoiled are you? I could fit two of my houses in here.” His dress shirt was open, revealing a sleeveless undershirt and a thin gold chain with a cross. He put his fingers in his hair, messing it up, and a lock fell on his forehead. “Compared to the beach house…I just wanted you to understand that we would be here on our own.” “Boston could fit with Trooper in one of these rooms easy. The one down at the end of the hall has a bathroom in it and—” “No.” Anger showed in his face now. He seemed to take a calming breath, exhaling. “He’s nearby. The dog is nearby. That’s more than was supposed to happen. More than should have happened. Here in this place, it’s us. You and me.” He turned and headed back down the stairs, grabbing their bags in the foyer. She followed him and picked up the bags he couldn’t carry. “Which room do you want?” she asked. “We take the same room. Choose which one appeals to you.” He looked pointedly up the stairs and lifted his eyebrows. “Oh, hell no.” She shook her head, some of her hair catching on her moist lips. “I have to keep you next to me. That’s non-negotiable.” He seemed like he regretted his brisk tone and shrugged. Savvy stomped up the stairs and tossed the bags down in the blue master bedroom. One giant, kingsized bed dominated the space. He put his bags down less forcefully. “I’m going to grab a shower.” “Do I have to stand in there and wash your hair for you? How close do I have to be, Sagan? Arm’s reach?” She sat on the bed.

“Just stay in the house. The windows have been treated so no one can see you from the outside.” He shed his shirt as he walked over to a keypad on the wall. He punched in numbers and was rewarded with a female voice assuring him that the house was alarmed. “And this is a motion sensor, so you have to stay upstairs for now.” He rifled through a suitcase and produced a stack of clothes; she could see jeans in the pile he toted into the large bathroom. She heard the shower come on and walked over to the bags, unloading the ones she knew were hers into the dresser in the large closet. Savvy missed Trooper. And the comfort of having Boston close, knowing at least someone cared a little what Sagan had planned for her. She shook her head at the sexy lingerie in his open suitcase. As if her disapproval brought him forth, the man spoke from behind her. “Maybe that’s what I like to sleep in.” The unexpected humor made her smile just a touch. His hair was wet and flopping all over the place, unlike his usual neat style. It made him look younger. Jeans, a white T-shirt, and bare feet made him look less like the horror he actually was. The timer downstairs beeped. “Dinner is served,” he announced. “Let me reset the alarm for our movement.” She waited until he gave her a nod before descending the stairs. Together they set the table, discovering where the plates and utensils were in the cabinets. The chicken pot pie was delicious, with a tropical flair. But they ate in silence. Captee and Captor save for the updates from his phone that he finally, after his last bite, addressed. He read his messages with a perfect poker face, but the mild echo of his screaming aura rippled through her head. She wondered if she would get better at hearing it despite the ring while his would be the only one she’d encounter. He looked from his phone to her face. “Did you want to shower?” he asked. “That’s a sleazy question.” She stood and took her plate to the sink, pointedly ignoring him. “I mean, do whatever you’d like.” He held his hands up in surrender before gathering his plate and cup as well. “Drink?” He walked to the fridge and pulled out a beer. “Sure.” She normally hated it, but its taste was always on Kal’s lips on a Friday night, and she was desperate for a hint of him. Sagan used an opener from a drawer and handed her the bottle. She took a long swallow as he opened his own and did the same. They’d each finished about half their bottle when she spoke again. “What do you expect from me?” He rubbed the slight scruff on his jaw before looking at her with the desperate, magnetic need she was used to from him. He finished his bottle, slamming it on the hard stone. She jumped a bit despite herself. He crossed to her and put his hands on either side of her hips, caging her against the counter. He looked from her mouth to her eyes over and over, like he was daring himself to act. She raised her chin in defiance, and lifted one eyebrow in question. He leaned forward and spoke, almost against her lips, his hot breath becoming her next one. “To submit. I’m going to force you, hear you scream, break you.” He was so close it was overwhelming. Before her own strength had erupted and changed her life, his would’ve terrified her. Instead, she let her eyes widen at the thought of how loudly his aura would scream

if he did as he’d just promised. She grabbed him harshly. One hand gripped the front of his T-shirt, the other the back of his neck, digging her fingernails in. His sharp inhale could only be interpreted as lust. She bit his bottom lip, so close to hers, and let him see the crazy in her eyes. She dragged her hands into claws, leaving thick red tracks to highlight their path to his face. She held him, releasing his lip to feed him her own deluded fantasy in response. “Do it. I beg you. Jesus. Take off that fucking ring and try me. I crave your violence. I need it. I will consume it.” In this moment they were limited only by themselves. Not another soul was around. She held her breath while he panted his harshly.

*~*~*~* Silas was hard and scared. Damned if that’d ever happened to him before. Her nails dug into his face, her gaze penetrating. She was such a hellion, a risk untested. Why had he had her for so long and waited? He felt his eyes go out of focus as he grabbed her in response, pulling her against him. “Take the ring off. Take. It. Off.” She seemed more excited by the thought of his impending death at her hand than any woman had ever been about anything in his arms. She was almost vibrating with the need of it. She slipped her hands around his throat and began to squeeze, closing her eyes as the anticipation smoothed her features. The tilt of a smile appeared on the edge of her lips. Silas grabbed her hips and lifted her roughly, swinging her so she lay flat on the counter before she could do more than sigh with the loss of her grip on his neck. Instead of trembling, like she should have, her whole demeanor sagged in defeat. “Look at me again. Like the balcony,” he demanded. She looked awkward on the counter, like it was an exam table or a buffet spread. But it didn’t even matter. This beautiful woman wanted far more sinful things than she should—hands full of blood instead of passion. She kept her eyes shut and shook her head. “No. Can’t. Not now. I can’t do it from where you just took me.” She did finally open her eyes. “Tell me why not. It should be simple.” God, he wanted it. He wanted to feel that drop in his stomach again, the burning on the edges of his chest. He’d taken a lot of drugs, drunk a lot of alcohol in his day, but nothing had matched the high he’d gleaned from her. When she said he knew jack shit about love, she knew what she was talking about. He moved her hair away from her neck. She pulled her feet closer, bending her knees. The hem of her skirt brushed the counter. She crossed her hands over her heart, like it hurt from the inside. “When I do that? When I did that? I have to remember who I was before I lost them. It’s like talking to the dead. Her? The mother, the wife? She’s been gone for so long now.” Her lashes seemed longer when she finally looked at him, her loss and anguish almost changing the color of her eyes. No tears. She was beyond that. “I’ve never wanted something so much it changed how I looked at the fucking world,” he confessed. He ran a hand from her knee to her ribs. Then she laughed, and the sound was hollow, the very soundtrack of disbelief. “Want and love are

different.” She turned her head toward his stomach, as if it didn’t matter that he was too close for her eyes to focus. “When you love what you want? You’ll do anything.” She moved quickly, swirling on the counter, skirt riding high on her thighs as she sat up. “I’m going to get that shower. It’s not an invitation, Sagan.” She pushed herself off the counter and walked past him, walked away from him. He slapped the counter with both hands, biting his tongue to keep from yelling at her. The sounds of the hot water coming on reverberated through the quiet house. Silas found where the liquor was stored and pounded three drinks. When he’d decided to be a pussy, he couldn’t quite say. There hadn’t been a woman who could say no to him, would say no to him in…ever. He’d brought Savannah here to make her do the things he’d been dreaming about. Oh yes, that’s why you brought her… His own thoughts taunted him now. His control was an illusion. He wanted her wide-eyed on her knees. He wanted her hair fisted in his hand as he slammed into her from behind, tears in her eyes because she was coming and hated doing it for him. He took a half-full glass of rum with him upstairs. Now was the moment. The ring was secure, his balls were blue, and he was pissed. Savvy leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom in a T-shirt and soft pair of leggings. She seemed to be expecting him and gave him a small headshake of disapproval. Her wet hair was pulled to the side, and she did not seem scared. That was about to change.

*~*~*~* Sagan’s heavy footfalls had preceded him, and when he’d entered the bedroom, he looked even more disheveled than before. He took a long look at her and then a long swallow from his drink. He set the glass down on the nearest table. “Get on the bed.” He pointed and pulled off his shirt. “Suck my dick,” rolled off her tongue to accompany her middle finger immediately. He laughed, but it was an angry sound. “I’ve had enough of your shit. It ends now. You can’t fucking stop me, and we are here for this very reason.” “Really? You brought me here in a giant, flustered rush to screw me? Like there weren’t beds at the compound?” She tossed her hair behind her. It was time to battle again. She was ready. Forget her higher purpose. Fighting with him gave her something other than numb, other than pain. The quiet of this house would kill her. She needed Trooper and Boston like medication. Something to focus on instead of Sagan. “No. That’s bullshit,” she told him. “You’re too calculating for that. Something happened, and you’re running scared. What happened?” A feeling began to emerge as she stared at him, a thought. The scariest fucking thing this man had ever seen was her. And the only thing keeping her from going batshit on him—ring or no ring—was her brother. “I want to see Toby,” she announced. “Show me.” Savvy went to the nearest end table and grabbed the remote, throwing it at Sagan’s head. He caught it. “Show me the surveillance. I want to see him.” “Or what? What will you do?” He tossed the remote aside and drew near until he was in her space, looming over her.

“Everything,” she answered. She swung, connecting her right hook with his jaw. “Fuck!” He grabbed her arms, both intent on beating the shit out of the other. She went all out; despite the ring, she had muscle memory from her other fights. If he had her arms, she went at him with her knees, kicking her feet. He was able to tip her off balance, knocking her on the bed. She flipped and started to crawl, kicking backward. He spanked her ass hard before grabbing her ankles and dragging her flat. His weight pinned her down, face to the mattress. He cursed as he recaptured her arms, sitting on her ass. “Fuck. Just fucking stop. Stop!” he demanded. They were both panting now, and she could feel his erection on her lower back. He loved the struggle. Maybe he needed it. She stopped. “Just stay for a second.” He slowly let go of one of her wrists, then the other. He remained sitting on her, painfully heavy. “I can’t show you your brother. We don’t have a video feed here. Just rustic, remember?” “You lie.” She rolled her wrists. “That’s the truth,” he told her. “And you should believe me. What other choice do you have?” He rolled her over and moved her hair away from her face. His features were hidden in the dark. The light from the bathroom gave his outline sharp edges. “Okay. Fine. This is it then. Just get it over with. I’m tired.” She used her most uninterested voice. He lifted himself off of her and eased down at her side. Now she could see his face clearly. “Why do you make everything so difficult?” He was angry. At her. “Why don’t you know how to be a human being?” she countered. “You are such a spoiled asshole. You won’t rest until you’ve poked between my legs? You have an army of whores. You only want what you haven’t had. If that isn’t the sorriest existence I’ve ever heard of. Holy shit. Someone should stuff all your money up your ass and light it on fire.” She pulled herself to sitting. He remained prone on the bed, rubbing his lips with his middle finger. “You’re so good at being holier than thou. You have it all figured out, huh?” “No. I don’t have it figured out or I’d be gone by now.” She looked at the door. How far she’d come since the accident, just in the wrong direction. There had been no healing. Only wounds. She looked at the man next to her: her new purpose. Maybe it was all for nothing. Maybe she’d gone insane right after the accident, and this was all happening in her head. Maybe she was dead and in Hell. She wrapped her arms around her knees. “Isn’t time supposed to heal all wounds?” He sat up next to her, his rough jeans resting against her knee. She looked at him for a moment, trying to determine if he was really that stupid. Finally she shook her head. “No. Time just moves. That’s the only job it has. Healing requires something I don’t have. That I never want. I deserve the pain. I deserve you.” She began rocking. “See me, I feel like I should get everything I ever wanted because I fought for it,” he said. “I endured for it. And it made me as tough as I need to be.” Savvy felt his eyes on her. She turned to look at him again. “Has anyone ever kissed you because they thought you were sweet? Or just because you needed it? Or has it always been a transaction?”

He ran his tongue over his teeth, clucking at her audacity. “Yes, of course they have.” “I think you’re lying again.” Sagan was handsome. Stupidly so. If she wasn’t so in love with a dead man, she bet she would trip on her words if she met him in the real world. He belonged on magazine covers and the insides of girls’ lockers, answering questions about his favorite dream date. Instead he was a vicious asshole. She leaned over, closer, closer, as he watched her. She closed her eyes and thought of the first time, so many years ago, when she’d kissed Kal. She’d made the first move, bold in her belief that she deserved him and vice versa. She was young, ignorant, and had totally undervalued the purity of his gorgeous soul. She’d failed to realize that she was too much—too mouthy, too prone to tempers. He deserved slippers and perfectly roasted chicken instead of the sloppy nightmare she was. Kal had been talking, eyes sparkling—no intention of kissing her, just enjoying their banter—when the pull came from inside her. The delicious greed that this man should be hers, and she could make it so with her lips. He’d been shocked, had stopped speaking when she put her lips on his. She’d watched as the fire grew in his eyes, the realization that their friendship meant more to her. He must have seen her determination to be part of a future she didn’t deserve: his. Had it been tempting? Did he consider backing away? When she opened her eyes to Sagan, that’s how she looked at him: hungry for his whole destiny, selfish and gluttonous. As if he were a good man she knew she could corrupt, would corrupt starting with a single kiss. Fire grew in his eyes as well. He was far more desperate than Kal had been, but then Sagan was a gaping hole of need. She touched his cheek, forcing herself to keep the right man in her head. When she placed her lips on Sagan’s, he moaned. He snaked a hand up to her damp hair and put his fingers in it. She turned her body so she could climb into his lap—Kal. Kal. Always Kal ran through her head. Ignore the difference in his smell, the taste on his lips that was all wrong. You have no choice, she reminded herself silently. Though it threatened to destroy her from the inside out, teaching Sagan to love was the best way to dissipate his evil and stop him from destroying good people. She straddled him, still kissing. Sagan skimmed her lower back, the skin bare where her T-shirt had ridden up. He slipped a hand beneath her waistband to grab a handful of her ass. She rocked back, stopping the kiss, and simply looked at him again. She pretended he was her Kal. The man she’d taken. The man she’d had a baby with. The man who knew her entire soul and loved her for it anyway.

*~*~*~* The look she poured over him… Silas held his breath. He was afraid to move; if he did, she might disappear. When she kissed him again, it was silk and heat. Then she leaned back and crawled off of him. He heard a tiny noise at the loss of it, which he was mortified to realize had come from his throat. He’d again had that fleeting feeling he was desperate for. His chest was on fire even more than last time. She ignored him now, plumping up the pillows on her side of the bed and lying down before finally

making eye contact. The look was gone. Her eyes were knives. “That’s it?” he managed. He sounded like a weak junkie. She shrugged. “I need more.” “No, I need more.” He slid his body over hers, soft and fit beneath him. She flipped on her back. “Give me more of yourself, not just your body.” He kissed her, but her lips didn’t respond. He gripped her jaw. “Don’t do me any favors then.” “Sagan, don’t let me have wasted this on you. Accept what I gave you. Earn more. It’ll be so much better than if you try to take it.” She put her hand in the center of his chest and patted it like she was comforting him. He covered his face, torn, the struggle eating at him. He groaned and punched the mattress next to her. She didn’t flinch. He got off of her and walked straight out the bedroom door and down the stairs. The house alarm he’d programmed to keep her in the room sounded, the ear-piercing tone making it hard to think. He jogged back to the panel and hit the code to disable it. It took him three tries. When the noise was finally gone, he heard her laughing. At him. He turned on his heel, raging at her silently. “Sorry. It’s funny. Caught in your own trap. Sometimes it switches, you know? The kidnapper becomes the kidnapped.” She gave him a little wave. “Goodnight.” Silas shook his head before leaving the room again, this time without the bells and whistles. He went to the kitchen and poured himself a few more fingers of rum before calling Bugs. “Tell me.” He barked at the man. “Well, um… So far the, ugh…incident that caused you to leave is, as far as I can tell, real. Toby died in an apparent suicide. So you did the right thing, taking her. There’s no way we would have been able to prevent her from finding out about her brother here.” “As far as you can tell? We have people inside. I want a picture of the body.” Silas looked toward the staircase. “That’s the issue. Things are murky for our contacts.” “I don’t like it.” “Me neither. There’s one snippet of a clip where the time stamp has caught my attention, so I’m working on that while I press our people to get more information.” “Anything else?” “Well, everything else. The Cassos have been posturing for retribution. There were survivors from the meeting, and they’re talking about her a ton, making her more mythical than she really is, which is pretty hard to do. And the maids are still at Devlin’s house. Until they make a move to leave or you let us go in for them, our hands are tied.” “The chemist?” “Well, that’s the one bit of good news. The lava flow has slowed a bit in the last twelve hours. He thinks he might be able to get in and extract some more of the essential element for the compound. But this reserve they can reach might have just a small scraping, nothing like last time. Anyway, it’s something. He’s hopeful.” “ETA?” Silas ran the edge of his finger along the rim of the glass, all the while picturing the color of

Savannah’s nipples. “Nothing on that.” Bugs was typing away on a keyboard while talking. “And the assassin?” He watched as Savannah stepped into the hallway, the light highlighting the disappointment on her face when she heard his words. “In place. The remaining targets are on twenty-four-seven surveillance as requested.” “Okay.” He walked toward her and pointed at the staircase. “Sir, things here aren’t going well. I just…the men are antsy. I think we have leaks because I’m seeing stories online about stuff that only happened here. We need your leadership back in Maryland. I can only do so much.” Silas ended the call without another word. His world was going to blow up—for good or for ill—all because of the woman standing in front of him.

*~*~*~* When Savvy heard the word assassin, it had pulled her down the rest of the stairs where she’d been eavesdropping. Sagan disconnected the phone and looked at her. “Did you hear enough?” “No. I need to know if your assassin is trying to kill my brother.” “He’s not. I have to go. Boston will be here in a few minutes, and he’ll be bringing the dog. I should be back by dinner tomorrow. Be dressed for it.” Sagan walked past her quickly and ascended the stairs. A few minutes later he returned dressed, but carrying only a messenger bag. When he opened the front door, Boston and an overjoyed Trooper were on the other side. The dog ran through the doorway, headed right at her. She couldn’t help but kneel to accept the pup’s exuberant love. He whined and barked between licks to her cheeks. Savvy smiled and hugged him close. Then she looked toward the doorway and met Sagan’s gaze. He nodded once and left. A car must have been waiting for him in the driveway. After a minute Savvy knew the ring was leaving as the pressure in her chest increased and her hunger for red sharpened. Boston set down a small duffle bag. Savvy said nothing as she petted the dog and avoided the hit man’s glare. After the snapping sensation of the ring going out of range and the flooding return of her power, she stood. Boston damn near ran to her and picked her up in a hard hug. When she started to speak, he put his finger over her lips and shook his head. The place was wired. She patted his back, smoothing his shirt over his shoulders. “How’s the dog been?” “Anxious.” Savvy made her way to the sitting room couch, and the dog followed, hopping up next to her and putting a paw on her leg. His tongue lolled out of his smiling mouth as he looked at her with adoration. “Has he been eating?” She scratched Trooper under his chin, and he closed his eyes with the joy of it. “Yeah, he’s still able to choke down his food.” Boston sat on the chair opposite her. “Everything okay here?” She shrugged. What was there to say that could be overheard? “I’m worried about my brother.

Evidently there’s no video of him available here. Everything seems rushed, and that has me nervous.” Boston looked at the ground and held his own fist. “Just a little internal discord. It’s normal. I know it hasn’t happened while you’ve been with us. Everything is under control. Your brother is fine.” He wouldn’t look at her. He wouldn’t look at her. His aura flared with red tinges. She had to get over her fear by responding like she had none. “Okay. That’s a relief.” Her eyes filled with tears when an obviously agitated Boston held up his hands and mouthed, “I don’t know anything for sure.” She nodded and went back to petting the dog. Boston’s aura was so marbled, it was hard to tell what the Hell was going on. She tried to center herself on the dog. If her brother was dead, all bets were off. There would be nothing keeping her down. As if Boston knew what she was thinking, he reminded her of another reason when she looked up at him. “My brother,” he mouthed. She nodded once. Savvy held Boston’s gaze for a long time before he left his chair and came to sit next to her. Practice had made perfect when it came to his complicated aura. Her control around him was second nature now, and anyway, the gold that glowed around him seemed to be multiplying every day, causing the red to fade. She leaned against his shoulder and closed her eyes, trying to get some goodness out of his gold. She failed, but trying nonetheless put her to sleep.

Chapter 30 Old Friends Jack was a charming, easy-going host, even though their unexpected visit had now stretched to more than 24 hours. Teresa watched as he went out of his way to make sure the three women were comfortable. He ordered a bunch of chick flicks on TV and made sure everyone’s dietary preferences were accommodated. Teresa’s bathroom even had feminine hygiene products. He seemed delighted to have the maids there, telling them they could leave any time—day or night—and he would arrange it. They had open access to the house phone, which the other two maids made liberal use of to tell their families their whereabouts. Teresa encouraged them to remain at Jack’s house. She knew when it was clear and safe the agency would send a package or pizzas or something. And because nothing had come, she had to assume staying put was their best chance. For some reason Sagan’s men hadn’t stormed Jack’s house and finished the job. She sat on the couch, looking at the sea, when he sat down next to her, handing her a cold water bottle. She thanked him. It was time to find out why Jack was immune. “He’s going to have us killed, isn’t he? If we step outside?” She uncapped the bottle and took a sip. “If I could predict what Silas was going to do, my life would be a hell of a lot easier.” He took a sip of his own water. “So, you’re not a maid by trade, are ya?” He toasted her bottle. “What makes you say that?” “I could see the altercation from my rooftop deck. And that was an impressive takedown. You could have taken the faster, closer dune buggy and instead you made sure you took the women with you. That’s a little extra considering…” “What, a girl can’t have a black belt and a day job?” She put her feet up on his table. “She can. Of course.” He sat back. The dude was seriously, mouth-wateringly sexy—the long hair, the scruff, the I’m-breaking-all-therules attitude. Yet he was alone. In this huge house so close to the Sagan family home. “So do you always keep an eye on Sagan’s stretch of the beach?” “Pretty Teresa, let’s cut the bullshit. You want to know stuff about me. I want to know stuff about you. How about we share? Tit for tat. So to speak.” He bit his bottom lip. “Ladies first.” “Okay. Ask a question.” She began mentally editing as his words formed. “Have you always been a maid?” “No.” “What have you—” He tried to ask another question. She shook her head. “I think it’s time for the tat now. Why were you watching the beach behind Sagan’s house?” “You’re more specific than I was. Almost like inquisitions come…professionally to you.” He lifted his eyebrow. “Your turn to talk.” She didn’t take the bait.

“We were friends a long time ago. I feel like I have to save him from himself.” Jack shrugged. Teresa nodded. “Do you know if Savvy is still alive?” He lifted a brow. “No.” He looked crestfallen. “Last I saw Savvy, she was in Sagan’s helicopter.” “Do you know where Sagan would take Savvy?” Teresa took a long, slow sip of the water, hearing herself swallow as he considered the question. “He’s got places all over the world. I would think he went to one that was off grid, considering…” He stopped himself and pointed at her with his pinkie. “You’re good. Not just the questions you ask, but the way you listen. It’s inviting.” It was her turn to shrug. “Okay, enough questions because I’m fairly certain you’ll get too much out of me,” Jack said. “I’ll tell you this: Silas is in too deep with whatever he’s considering nowadays.” He stood and shoved one hand in his pocket. She liked his candor, so she offered more. “What he’s into is going to get a lot of people killed.” Jack met her eyes. “How many is a lot?” “Countries full of people.” Setting her water bottle on the coffee table in front of her, Teresa stood. With pursed lips, he nodded. “If I knew where he was, I could maybe talk him out of it.” She hugged her middle. “I don’t think there is an ‘out of it’ at this point. Just do or die.” “You know a lot for a maid.” “You care a lot for an old friend.” They were silent after that, and Teresa hoped her message would come soon. Jack’s allegiances were a tough thing to judge.

*~*~*~* Silas rolled his head on his neck and cracked his knuckles in his airplane seat. Six hours on an airplane to return to Maryland was the last thing he wanted to do. Stupidly, even figuring out how to have the Compound E safely removed from Savvy’s body had dropped to the bottom of his mental to-do list. There was only her. He could close his eyes and picture her smiling at the damn dog, her look of caution as she watched the unfamiliar goings-on of his criminal life. But mostly—okay entirely—his concentration lingered on the sight of her face when she let him feel loved, and that feeling, the rollercoaster drop while his heart glowed. He tapped his fingers on the tray that had been set up with his meal. The stewardess on his private plane had looked offended when he waved her away after she tried nibbling his ear. Actually, was it offended or scared? Probably scared. The truth of the matter was, once a person failed to fulfill Silas’s needs, she was in danger. And she knew this. Except Savannah. The half-suicidal woman had him by the balls. She’d convinced him not to take what he wanted from her, chastised him out of his own bed. His desire for her was insane. It motivated him to get the house, the Cassos, and Jack in order and then get back to her. His landing and trip in the car to the compound were uneventful, but took too damn long. When he arrived, his men were armed to the teeth. His call for a show of force had been heeded. Bugs met him at the door, as did everyone else—like they always did, but now it seemed stupid. He waved them away, and Bugs followed him into his office.

“I assume we’re good here?” Silas pointed at the walls. “We are. I’m positive.” Bugs waited for his boss to sit before he did. “Did anything come of the device you found?” Silas tented his fingers and leaned in. Bugs scratched behind his ear as he spoke. “Yes and no, sir. I was able to track it, but by the time I got there, the place that had been intercepting the signal was abandoned. I did find out that whoever it was has a considerable budget, far beyond the Cassos’ spending limits. Someone with crazy money has a hard-on for you right now—like, a anti-government, bomb-this-house-with-long-range-missiles kind of amazing.” Silas sat back and clenched his jaw. So possibly a government sized group was onto the Compound E? They had to be researching volcanic fields now. Thankfully he hadn’t named the one he was focused on at the moment during that bugged conversation. But if this mysterious entity was truly powerful, they would cross-check his property locations with the elements found around them. He needed to kill two birds with one stone. “I want you to start leaking that we have a stockpile of Compound E here, as well as in Italy and at the California house. Also mention that there’s great dissention in our camp. Got it?” “Sure, but why?” Bugs stood. “If it’s the government will be less likely to blow us to hell if they think they might nuke an entire state off the map.” He waved the man away. “Good plan. On it.” After the door closed, Silas picked up the phone and asked to be connected to the Cassos’ representative. After a ten-minute wait he had the old bastard himself on the line. Now he had to pretend to be scared. “Gregorio, thank you for coming to the phone. You have words for me, so I hear?” Silas was then treated to a half-Italian, half-English diatribe about how close he was to being the actual Devil and how he wasn’t half the man his father had been. Gregorio even touched on his mother’s promiscuousness. After the man had oozed all his viciousness, Silas cleared his throat. “Do you want to be on the buyer list or not?” The conversation then turned to business, as it should have from the start. Silas explained that very few could be trusted with the weapon he had, but the Cassos were welcome to buy enough to keep their territory for a few thousand generations. They just needed to understand that Sagan had most of it, and he could and would retaliate. He’d thought of having the assassin take out Gregorio’s old-ass wife as retribution, but it was just easier this way. The old man thinking he was getting in bed with the Sagans got him back to Savannah sooner. With the deal concluded, and an explanation that delivery would take some time, he hung up, stood, and buttoned his suit jacket. He took a car to Jack’s, even though it was just a few houses down. His old friend answered the door and let him in, saying nothing until they both had their favorite poison from when they were teens in their hands. They toasted and sipped, coughing on the homemade moonshine. “You find this in old Beady’s coffin?” He smiled at Jack. “Almost. I keep this crazy old bat on retainer so I have some in case you drop by. Like now.” He nodded.

Silas scratched his cheek, hearing his scruff bristle. “I need her back.” “Which her?” The door to friendliness closed as the usual guarded look took its place on Jack’s face. “You seem to have a harem going, tough guy.” “You know which one: the bad-ass maid.” He set down his glass. “She doesn’t want to go with you.” Jack shrugged and took another sip of the horrible drink. “That’s not her decision. I’m not playing at this.” Silas felt his anger brewing. He needed the maid on the plane. Boston could interrogate her and find out where she was from and who she worked for. He was better at that than anyone. Jack smiled. “No one asked you to play, Silas. She stays as long as she needs to.” He nodded to Silas’s left. Silas turned to find that in regular clothes, the maid was hotter and younger than he remembered. She came into the room, bare feet barely making noise, and curled up on Jack’s fluffy white couch. “Did she even tell you her name?” Silas did his best to loom over her, crossing his arms. Jack slid between them and sat next to the maid, slinging his arm over her shoulder, still smiling. “She doesn’t have to. I require nothing of her. Actually, I made her bed this morning. How’d I do, doll?” The maid didn’t look over at Jack charming her; she just held Silas’s gaze. “You did fine, buddy. We have to work on your hospital corners, but you’ll do.” “Come with me.” Silas pointed to a spot close to his shoes. She stood quickly and came to right where he’d suggested, but despite her timid demeanor, he found a knife blade pressed to his throat in a very practiced way. He just smiled. Because as much as he would never kill Jack, he knew Jack would never allow anyone else to… “Hold up, princess. You and I have a deal, but that does not include putting a knife to his jugular.” The woman’s eyes hardened, and the knife started to penetrate his skin. Jack drew his handgun and set it to the maid’s temple. “Step away, baby.” The maid took a step back, like a lion away from its favorite meal. She was definitely trained. Deadly. Reminded him of Savannah. Jack put his gun in his waistband. Silas kept his eyes on the maid but addressed Jack. “You have to be armed when I’m around now?” “It was for her, not you.” Silas met Jack’s gaze. Brotherhood. It was still there. It made things so much more complicated. For a hot minute he wanted to take Jack with him instead of the maid, just to have someone he could trust. It was a fleeting thought, though, because working for him would change things for Jack. Change who he was. As if he was reading Silas’s mind, Jack offered, “There’s an out. Know that I have it ready. Let me take you away from all this and make an honest woman outta you.” Silas nodded, ignoring the joke. “Too far gone now.” “Never say never.” The silence lingered while he considered what Jack had said. The other two maids wandered in, one limping. They saw him, gasped, and crossed themselves before running from the room. Silas purposely turned his body away from Jack and looked hard at the deadly maid. “You tell whoever you’re working for that I have the Compound E weaponized, and I’ll use it if I have even a hint that they’re making a move.” He stepped past her and picked up his glass. It took everything in him to drain it

to the last disgusting drop, coughing when he finally finished. Jack lifted a brow and polished off his glass as well, emitting a matching cough. They locked eyes, and Silas nodded. Jack nodded back sadly, as if he knew Silas might never be back but respected their bond either way. “’Til next time then.” “Next time.” Silas closed the door behind him and sighed. He hoped his bluff would buy him time, buy Bugs time to identify who was onto him. But first he had to get back to Savannah.

*~*~*~* Teresa set down the blade, unclenched her fists, and shook them out. She flopped down on Jack’s couch. She’d been so very close to killing Sagan. She should have killed Sagan. It was a desperate failure. Jack seemed to understand. “Sorry I couldn’t let you. I have hope for his redemption. Do you have anyone you’re devoted to like that?” She stalked to the windows, taking in the spectacular view but not seeing it. “Yeah. Savvy’s one of them.” “You knew her before she came here?” Jack stepped up next to her. In any other line of work, having a man who’d held a gun to her head not minutes before chatting her up would have been weird. But she knew the danger had passed. “No. I knew her brother. He was worried about her. And I was worried about him.” She put her hands in her pockets. “I saw that he died.” Jack turned to look at her, to gauge her reaction or comfort her, she didn’t know. “He was pretty tortured about not being able to save her. He thought she was dead. He didn’t know I was trying to get her free.” Teresa knew her poker face was pretty good. For all he did know, Jack didn’t seem to realize the suicide was staged, and the work of her boss. It also seemed clear Sagan didn’t know and was running scared, delivering news he’d made up on the spot. The doorbell rang. She watched as a puzzled look came over Jack’s face. She followed him to the door and saw Mike there with a pizza. Jack looked confused right up until he was hit in the arm with a dart. Teresa caught him and eased his body to the ground. Understanding reached his eyes just before the fuzziness. Mike motioned for her to come with him, but she shook her head. “He’s the key. We need him.” She almost felt bad about helping Mike take Jack out to the car, but after seeing the bromance between him and Sagan, she knew he was far too valuable to leave behind. Teresa went upstairs and, speaking Spanish, told the other housekeepers to go home. They clearly hadn’t realized she spoke Spanish until she fluidly told them never to speak of their time in the house and to change their names. Eyes wide, it took them only moments to vanish. The trip to the safe house was quiet, with Mike taking some crazy, convoluted path to ensure they weren’t followed. She sat near Jack and monitored his vitals until they pulled into the driveway. Then she helped Mike put him on the couch, all the while looking for Toby. When she finally found him, he looked exhausted, but his arms were strong as he pulled her into a hug. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get her out. I’m so sorry.” She held his face in her hands. He shook his head, but it was clear he’d hoped Savvy would be in the car. Teresa hoped taking Jack

didn’t create more danger for Savvy. “No, you got you here. One out of two is great. She’s alive though?” His warm eyes searched her face for answers. “Last time I saw, she was alive and being protected. It’s okay to keep hoping.” Teresa kissed him and took comfort in his strength. “I’ve been living on hope for a while now. I think it’ll last a little longer.” He gave her a sad smile. “I won’t stop helping.” Teresa disentangled herself from Toby as more men came into the room. She knew her actions would be judged. Fortunately, they all believed keeping Toby close was part of her job. But they didn’t know she would walk away from everything they’d worked for all these years in order to keep him safe.

Chapter 31 Silver Savvy woke up disoriented late the next morning at Sagan’s laughably “rustic” house. Trooper greeted her with excited hand licks. In a few seconds she knew what had woken her: someone was cooking bacon. Boston. That was right; Boston was here. And Sagan wasn’t. She took the blanket she’d been wrapped in on the couch and used it like a robe. In the kitchen, Boston had her plate dished up, and he set a glass of orange juice next to it when he saw her. She shared a slice of bacon with Trooper, and she and Boston ate in silence. She didn’t realize how hungry she’d been until she looked up at Boston’s smirk. He moved his plate away protectively. Savvy rolled her eyes and smiled. Then in an instant, his face went white, and he dropped his fork. She looked over her shoulder and saw nothing, then checked the dog, who looked at her and started growling. Heat traveled up her spine, and she braced herself against the table. Something was happening. Something was happening inside her. Boston crawled over the table and held her face. “Savvy, you in there? Savvy?” It was as if her eyes had changed purpose; the colors and shapes in front of her faded out, and instead she only saw rage. His red-gold aura became unbearable. Like a fever, like a supernatural force, she felt the will to destroy surge through her. It now controlled her, instead of the other way around. Trooper’s growling and barking cut through her angry haze. “Get away,” she managed, but it didn’t sound like her voice. It was raspy, demented. Boston let her go and backed away, calling the dog. But Trooper wouldn’t give up. He continued growling like something was attacking Savvy. And inside her, it was. Her clenched hands went through the wooden table like butter. The cracking of the planks startled her. They popped like gunshots. She concentrated on the fact that she was the danger in the room. She focused on her hot spine and thought about cooling it. It took every bit of her energy to douse the fire that had begun inside. Finally, finally she could see shapes again. Trooper noticed first and broke away from Boston, army crawling to her. She slipped to the floor, looking at the legs of the chairs and table, splinters everywhere. She stroked Trooper’s head. Boston spoke from a distance. “You okay?” “Yeah, I’ve got it. Sorry. I didn’t know that was coming.” Soon he helped her off the ground and looked at her hands, but there were no injuries. Then he looked in her eyes and his own widened again. “You sure you’re cool?” He looked extremely suspicious. “Yeah. Why?” Boston led her to the mirror over the living room mantel. He held her shoulders and faced her toward her reflection. Something was wrong, but it took her a second to find it. She stepped closer and touched

the glass, then her own face. Her pupils had changed from black into two tiny, round mirrors. “Is this possible?” She blinked over and over, and while she watched, they faded back to normal. She looked at Boston in the mirror. “What the hell was that?” He shook his head. “Your whole eye was like that, and your skin was, like, glowing.” She nodded. “It’s poison—the compound inside me. Makes sense. It’s altered everything about my body. Now it’s doing something else.” She walked to the couch she’d slept on and sat down. Trooper nudged his head under her hand. Boston was terrified; she could tell by looking at his face. His hands shook. “Let me guess? If I die, so does your brother?” she asked. “No matter the reason?” “No, ma’am. I’m employed by Mr. Sagan, and my brother is safe.” But as he spoke the words, he nodded. She had guessed correctly. “I’ve got to burn the energy. Am I allowed to take a walk?” “Just around the house here. Let me get my piece, and I’ll come with you.” She leashed Trooper and walked out to the front lawn. Boston met her, scanning the surrounding area. “What just happened to me?” she asked once he’d given her the nod. “I don’t know. I can get the chemist over here. Actually, I’m betting Sagan will walk in the door with him. He’ll have overheard the whole thing. It probably sounded scarier than it actually was, and that’s saying something.” She touched his arm. “That strength? It took control. I couldn’t see. It was really hard to make a choice. Everything in me wanted to destroy. The only thing that kept you alive was the gold in your aura mixed with Trooper’s, I think.” He clenched his jaw. “Damn it. Fucking damn it to fucking hell.” “Go. Go get your brother. I’ll hold off Sagan. Get off the grid before this takes over me again. I’ll bet they can’t stop it…Jesus.” She touched his shoulder. Boston pulled her behind a large evergreen, out of view of the house. His gold glowed bright, surrounding them, making the red seem far away. “No. Never. Damn it, Savvy. I want you both. I want to save you both.” She didn’t pull away when Boston kissed her. He needed saving too.

*~*~*~* After completing his trip in reverse, Silas rolled into the driveway at his rustic, off-the-grid house where he’d left Savannah. He wanted to run inside, but instead he did his best to saunter. He’d been getting updates, and he knew his chemist was in trying to get blood samples from her. She’d collapsed, and something strange had happened with her eyes. He used his key to gain access and found Savannah pressed against the kitchen counter with Boston between her and the scientist. The dog barked at him as he entered. But when she snapped her fingers, and the dog trotted back to her. He waited for an explanation. None came, just silence. The chemist looked extremely stressed. “Boston?” He sighed. “Well, he said he was here to collect blood. You told me that’s what he was supposed to

do.” “And I did that.” The chemist seemed agitated. “And then he tried to inject her with something, and that hadn’t been part of the plan communicated to me. I didn’t want to let anything happen that wasn’t preapproved by you.” Boston spoke to him but looked menacingly at the chemist. “What are you trying to do?” Silas asked. What Boston didn’t know was that the scientist would cut off his own head before hurting Savannah because of the damage that would rain down on his loved ones. “I wanted to inject a tiny bit of this fluid I’ve been working on and immediately withdraw it. It wouldn’t actually be in her system.” “Boston, take her upstairs with the dog. He and I need to speak in private.” “By all means, speak in private about my body. Go for it.” Savannah shook her head and breezed by him. He could smell her conditioner, and he watched her go. The fire in her eyes, the anger in her sashay…he bit his lip. Boston trotted upstairs after her, and Silas called, “Make sure she can’t hear.” After a moment the TV upstairs came on, loudly. He gestured to the table. “Update.” The chemist folded his hands. “I have a new theory that Compound E is drawn to more of itself, like it has its own gravitational pull. I think it’s like mercury. I concentrated a sample of her blood cells, which have bonded with the compound in her body, and I thought if I injected it for just a moment it might act like a sponge, drawing more of the compound-bonded cells to itself. Then when I withdraw it, I would have just a hint more Compound E. I still don’t have a means of extracting it all while leaving her intact, but eventually, in a perfect world, I might eventually be able to develop something. And in the meantime, this would give me a slightly larger sample to work with for your weapons project.” Silas nodded again, his mind racing. “I have her concentrated blood in here.” The chemist held up a cooler. “But as you saw, I was not able to inject her with it.” “When did you come up with this theory? Why not just tell me what you wanted to do?” “It was something I thought of on the way here.” The chemist put his shaking hands flat on the table and began tapping his foot. “I didn’t know when you’d return. Time is of the essence. You know that. I know that. You want more Compound E. I’m getting closer to being able to provide that for you.” Silas looked down at his hands. “Her survival has become somewhat…important to me.” The chemist’s eyes widened. “Sir, I just don’t think…” He trailed off. “Speak.” Instead of a command it was more of a whisper. “Her episode, for lack of a better term, has given me renewed cause for concern. Bugs did some digging into her treatment a year or so ago following the accident, and it seems a researcher attempted to recreate her condition in the lab. Mice exposed to Compound E followed a path similar to that of the human subject in question so far—enhanced senses and strength, but increasing volatility.” The chemist pulled out an iPad and tapped on the screen a few times. Silas found himself unable to breathe, let alone speak. “This is enough to raise concern for your safety and the safety of others around her, but you should also know…” He paused for a moment, seeming to look for an exit. “The mice all died, and rather violently.

The compound’s energy, combined with its effects as it settled into their organs and cells, eventually became too much for them to withstand.” The chemist stood. “For everyone’s safety, as well as if you want to have any of the compound left to work with, she needs to be deactivated, or at the very least confined to a lab, and soon.” Silas clenched his jaw. Savannah was becoming some sort of bomb? His stomach dropped, and he found his voice. “Fix it. Fix her! You are unparalleled in your field. That makes you a god. Fix her!” “Sir, I don’t think you get it. The compound is part of her now—bound to her cells, settled and hardening in her organs. Extracting it from her without destroying her tissue just isn’t in any of the paradigms I’ve been able to work out. And I’ve tried. This new idea, which I didn’t even get to attempt, was really just a long shot. I’m not a murderer.” The chemist paled. “Ahh, but I am,” Silas countered. “So you best learn how to do what I’m asking. Soon.” He pointed the man toward the door. “I built you a perfectly serviceable lab here. I suggest you go use it. And no, you may not take Savannah with you.”

*~*~*~* Boston held her with one arm and pulled the earbuds out of their ears. He’d set up a small wire in the kitchen, and they’d listened to the whole conversation standing near the bedroom door. In three quick motions he disappeared the whole setup and moved to sit in the plush chair. She wiped her eyes and sat on the bed. While they listened to Sagan’s footsteps ascend the staircase, they looked at each other. He saw resignation in her expression, and determination too, hidden just underneath. When he’d kissed her outside, she’d not pulled away. But she hardly reciprocated. Boston had touched her shoulders when he broke the kiss, searching her eyes. “In another life, you are a choice I would make,” she’d told him, gently touching his cheeks. “And it would be a good choice. But where I’m going? I don’t need to hurt you too.” He’d wanted to ask what the hell she meant, but instead the crackle of the tires on the driveway had separated them, followed by the arrival of the chemist. And now, as he looked at her, Sagan appeared in the doorway and ordered him and Trooper out of the house. He couldn’t give her hug and tell her it would be okay. She’d just found out she was likely a time bomb, and she just had to take it. He had to yank on Trooper’s collar to get him to leave. Savvy’s brother was dead, and he knew now that he had to tell her. Her body was poisoned, and she had to bear that alone. He had to stop picking his brother’s safety over the things this woman deserved.

Chapter 32 Professionally Evil Savvy waited until Boston and Trooper were gone before looking Sagan full in the face. “You okay?” he asked. The irony got to her. He didn’t know she’d just learned her fate. Death would come, she knew it now. She swallowed the bubble of fear that filled her. After all this time desperate to take her last breath, she now had confirmation, but she also had a mission. Her brother’s safety depended on her keeping this unstable body working, and a lot of other people’s lives might depend on her accomplishing even more than that. “What is that chemist trying to do? If you remove the compound from my system, can my brother go free?” She put her hands on her hips to keep from wringing them. He looked her up and down. “That’s not our deal.” It was hard to hear his words over the faint screaming of his aura, present now despite the ring. But she also just wished he was saying something different. “We don’t have a deal. We have blackmail that you’re in charge of.” He was wearing a suit again. He looked like the cold, professionally evil Sagan she was used to hating. And yet. And yet she knew the only way out of the whole fucking thing for so many people was to make him give a damn. “Come downstairs,” he said after a moment. “We both need a glass in our hand for this conversation.” He walked past her. She followed him to the kitchen and stood near him as he made their drinks. They took sips instead of exchanging toasts. “Did you fix whatever you left to take care of?” She missed her dog. She thought about Boston’s gentle kiss. “For now.” He took another swallow. “It never really stops anyway. When you’re on top, people are always trying to knock you off balance. Makes me wonder why I fought so hard to be here.” “You’re reaching for the wrong things.” It was obvious to her, and she stated it plainly. “And what are the right things?” He set his glass down and lifted his chin like he was expecting a fight. “There’s what you want, and what you need.” She didn’t want to play his game. This game. It was looking more and more like she just didn’t have the time. Savvy thought back over what might have triggered the episode earlier, but she couldn’t pinpoint anything unusual—unusual for her, anyway. Maybe the chemical in her blood just had its own agenda. Really, it had from the beginning. Her eyes were her gauge, so it seemed—windows to the soul and all that. And her soul was crumbling without the hits from her people on the other side. She had to stay the course. Her window to make any kind of impact on Sagan was running short. He tilted his head. “Right this second what I want and what I need are exactly the same.” He exhaled so long it almost became a whistle. “I’m here to earn it. Like you said.”

“Let’s begin then. Sit. Bring your drink. Tell me why you’re such an asshole.” She motioned to the kitchen table. He looked scared, as if she actually had a gun to his head. Maybe she was the gun to his head. Maybe she should be grateful she’d lasted this long. Her heart beat a little faster with the uncertainty of it all. Could she get through to Sagan? Would she see her brother again? Would she end up with Kal and Sara? And now there were Boston and Trooper to consider, as they too held a claim on the tiny pink part of her dead heart. “I’m an asshole because I get what I want.” He began posturing immediately. “Why is Jack safe from you?” She set her glass down and skimmed her hand over the side, wondering if he’d dare be honest, as Jack had been. “Oh, straight for it, huh? I bet you like orgasaming without foreplay too.” The sneer was in place. “Deflection. Answer the question. You want to earn? This is how.” She lifted her glass to her lips. “I thought I told you to dress for dinner.” He shifted in his seat, sliding his suit jacket off. “Distraction. Answer the question.” She took her sip. Jeans and T-shirt, her hair in a high ponytail, was as much effort as she was willing to put in. Anyway, this was Kal’s favorite version of her. “No one wears a pair of jeans like you, baby.” She remembered his hands sliding across her back pockets. He’d grabbed her ponytail and turned her head for a kiss. His lips were home. She tapped her fingers on the table. “Jack is a friend.” Sagan unbuttoned his top button and slid his tie’s knot loose. “What’s a friend to you? ’Cause it seemed he liked baiting you at the homecoming party you threw for yourself.” Savvy kept her gaze steady on his. Was he checking for mirrors in her pupils? “He’s someone who knows who I was before I became what I am.” He dropped his gaze to his lap. “That’s the Silas I want to know. Him.” She finished her drink and set the glass down. With the same motion she got up and crossed the space to him. She turned his face to hers. “I can’t be him anymore.” He looked at her chest. “You can.” She put one hand on his shoulder, the other on his heart. “Can you be who you were before all of this?” His eyes flashed. His words took her back to the night it all changed. How hard it had been to find the will to live. But she had fought. And her pain was real. He was a spoiled narcissist. “I can get in touch with the ghost of her when I have to. Like now. Now me wants to kill you. Now me hates the suppression that ring brings. Now me wants to silence the screaming I hear when you’re around.” Savvy shook her head. The visions of his death briefly turned her on. “But this conversation? You’re talking to the ghost of me. I would’ve cared what made you so jaded, so violent. I would’ve wondered what could save you, or if evil was all you could be.” She shrugged, keeping her hands on him despite the violence that hummed in her fingertips. “She sounds like a nice lady.” He lifted his eyebrows. Savvy resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead accepted his compliment. “She was. Sometimes. And sometimes she made selfish choices.” “Like what?” “Don’t change the subject. Tell me what Jack’s friend was afraid of. Is it easier like that? Talk about him like he’s someone else.”

Sagan looked at her silently for a moment before he spoke again. “He wasn’t afraid. It was desire to fight for what he wanted, and he could only keep what he hung on to.” He had taken her bait. Now she listened, letting him spread out in the attention she provided. “You see, my mother wanted to be a house girl. My father’s house was set up like mine: women always available to service him, service the men in his employ. Mother was a maid. In her head, my father was the ultimate. She wanted him to swoop in and take her from the work, drape her in diamonds, like an evil Cinderella. I was a means to an end. My father was so loving, he had a DNA test done to confirm I was his. And when they told him we were related, he was disgusted.” Sagan shook his head and looked away. “Anyway, Jack’s family lived in the house he has now. And when we first hung out? He didn’t even know where I lived. He was my friend before I knew I was my father’s kid and after. Nothing ever changed for him. And he knew what my father was. I told him everything. And he stayed true. We were going to go into business. Back in the day we surfed, skateboarded. Our plan was to open a shop on the sand, the two of us.” Savvy crossed her arms in front of her chest. She felt a little shaky, but she didn’t want to stop his flow. Was it another episode coming on? She nodded that she was following along. “All my father’s children turned on him—or he on them—except me. In the end there was only me. I watched how he ran his business. Memorized it. And I’ve close to doubled the profits. And Mom? She died before she could do anything other than mourn his loss. She had no confidence that I could do what I’ve done.” “So the only witness you have is Jack.” She tried warming her arms by rubbing her hands on them. “You could put it that way.” He closed down, crossing his arms as well. “I mean to say he knows what you’ve worked for.” She pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. Heat and chills went up her spine. “You okay?” His eyebrows pulled together. She ignored his question. “So you’ve fought for this, and now it’s yours. Is it everything you wanted?” “Yes. It is. Being powerful is everything I wanted.” He turned in his chair, hitting her leg with his own. The touch was amplified. Her nerves had been electrified by whatever was happening inside her. “Then why are you sitting so close to me?” She leaned in, feeling her eyes cloud over. He matched her, his lips close to hers. “When you know how deadly I am?” Savvy closed the gap and kissed him.

*~*~*~* When Savannah kissed him, Silas pulled her flush to him, easily moving her to straddle his lap. Her skin under her T-shirt was so silky. She was strong and hard but soft in all the right places. He looked in her eyes, needing to feel his chest burn the way only she could make it. Instead he saw himself. Damn it. Her lips went slack, and her arms fell to her sides. “No. No. You need to snap out of it, Savannah. Fight for it. Fight!” As if she’d been pulled from drowning, she gasped as her eyes regained their color. And instead of reeling from where she’d been, wherever the mirrors took her, she went back to him—hands in his hair, breasts pushed against his chest, kissing his face. “Wait.” He pulled her away. “What was that?”

She shivered before shaking her head. “I think I’m dying a little bit. Which means you’re far from safe.” “I didn’t pick my lifestyle because I liked safe.” “You didn’t pick it because you wanted to either—I mean, just my take from what you told me.” She pushed off of his lap, and he let her go. “Wait. Don’t try to put me in the role of a good guy in your head.” He stood too, his erection pressing against the zipper of his pants. “No. Never. You’re horrible. But you were trying to get respect from the people in your life, and save for one friend, you had to use fear to obtain a version of it.” She crossed to the couch she’d slept on and wrapped herself in the blanket there. She was so cold. “Your mom worshiped your dad for all the wrong reasons. She taught you to want to be him. So you did that. Now you’re here with me, waiting for me to make you feel something you can’t even recognize.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. She was good at this. Whatever it was—playing with his mind and his dick in equal measure. “This is a game for you? I’m rewarded when you get closer to whatever makes me tick?” She tucked her legs under her. “No. I’ll be completely honest: I want to save my brother. I want to save Boston’s brother. I love that damn dog. The only way to get to you is to let you see what I was, and to force you to see who you are. I want you to change. You’re the key to this. You’re the one who can use Compound E or whatever else you come up with for good or evil long after I’m gone. I want you to be that surf shop guy again. Reset. Do over. Money and power has brought you here. To me. To what only I can do for you.” To prove her point, she closed her eyes and then looked back at him the way he was desperate for. “Come here to me.” She patted the couch next to her. There was no ploy. She wasn’t writhing in lust for him. She wasn’t licking her lips. Savannah just opened her arms, her blanket like a cape. He sat next to her. She wrapped him in her arms and pulled his head gently to her shoulder. And then she hugged him. She cuddled him close, running her hand through his hair. It wasn’t sexual, though the blood rushing between his legs said different. “Just be here, Silas. That’s it.” He listened to her inhale and exhale. It was like being dipped in forgiveness and caring. It became everything. He could hear her heartbeat. She patted his back and placed a kiss on the top of his head. “It’s going to be okay,” she murmured. He slipped his arms around her waist. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He hadn’t known he had the hole in him until she’d uncovered it. She kissed his head again, and he turned his face up to hers, hugging her back. “Why are you doing this?” He sounded lost. “Because this is the only power I have when it comes to you: treat you like you matter. Is it working?” She tilted her head, and her ponytail spilled over her shoulder. He wrapped his hand around it. “More than you know.” “Watch my eyes. If they start to mirror, you need to run.” “How do I know you’re not keeping me close so we both go up in flames?” He sat up and took a more dominant position, keeping her caged in his arms. “You won’t know. But I’ll tell you if I start to feel weird. It’s trust. Without pain. Can you do it?” She

still looked at him in that way that she did. “I dare you.” He was afraid to touch her, to demand more from her, because he didn’t want her to stop. She took his hand from the couch and squeezed it. Supportive. Kind. What was it like to know this? What did it mean to peek into a life he shouldn’t even know about? He’d looked behind a curtain that was sacred. His throat was dry, his heart pounding. It felt like watching a cloud turn into a tornado, like looking at a tree before the lightning hit. He pulled her as he stood, lifting her into his arms. “Is this a trick?” She was still looking at him that way. Goddamn it all. She said nothing. Instead she framed his face with her hands. “You hate me,” he reminded her, trying to make her stop, wanting to see her come to her senses. “Not more than I hate me.” Empathy. He knew she despised him: her kidnapper, murderer of her family, spoiled asshole. And all at once he halted his efforts to make her see him clearly. She could see him clearly; she just chose not to. And he craved this. Taking her up the stairs in his arms was easy. She didn’t fight or kick; instead she gave him a dreamy smile. It was like she was hallucinating, but she kept saying Silas, Silas over and over. So she knew it was him. When he laid her on the bed, he thought back to the last time they’d been here. He’d wanted to force her. Had it only been the day before? Really? Was it that easy to earn what he really wanted? He must have mumbled that last thought out loud because she answered him. “Speaking about who you are isn’t easy. And sex isn’t what you have to earn.” He stopped. In that moment, he didn’t want to make her do this with him. Not now. It took superhuman strength to stop, but he held himself rigid over her. Again he must have spoken because she was answering him. God, maybe he was the one hallucinating after all. Savannah broke him then, reaching out her comforting hand and taking his from his side. “Call me Savvy,” she said. “Tonight, call me Savvy, please.” And she pulled him on top of her. Permission. Request. Invitation. He pulled up the hem of her shirt, then hesitated. He fucking hesitated! He looked at her eyes. This woman he’d watched for months, lusted over via satellite cameras. He’d wanted to reign over her, believed the satisfaction he sought would come only from watching her submit to him. But now. This. It was more than carnal. The burning in his chest, it was a new life. And then there was the fact that she was deadly. It was almost more than he could take. Were the edges of her pupils turning a bit? Had she just shivered from his touch? Sliding his hand across her stomach and over the lace of her bra, he felt her softness. He’d bedded so many women. So many times. How this was different, he wasn’t sure. He released her left breast and thumbed over her nipple, watching her gasp the tiniest bit. And then she smiled. To bring her pleasure that wasn’t a punishment? He never knew it could be this way. Her own hands explored, pulling his shirt out of his pants—like he’d come home from work, and she was waiting for him. She was good at unbuttoning and quickly exposed his chest. He wanted to be delight for her eyes, so he tensed his muscles. So amateur. God, he was gone in her. She placed her hands on his chest and drew him toward her with her legs and arms. When he lay on top

of her, she whispered against the skin of his neck. It was his turn to shiver. He kissed her ear, her jaw, and her lips. He wanted more of her permission. More of her genuine reaction. “Am I me for you right now?” It was a bizarrely worded question, and one he hated to ask. But it was important to him now. “Stop asking questions and start making progress.” She laughed at him. For him. Chest to chest, he focused on the feel of being pressed against her. His hesitation must have been apparent, because she held his shoulders. “Don’t be scared.” And then she kissed him again. He could kiss her until the world ended. She had turned him into a love song and a sappy story. He was scared, and it amazed him because for once in this moment, it wasn’t the other way around. He kissed all the skin he could find before working on her jeans, sliding them off. Her panties went with them, and he briefly mourned the loss of the white fabric because he’d been looking forward to teasing her sex through them. “You’re amazing,” he breathed. In the flesh, under his fingers, she became an object of worship. This version of her that welcomed him was almost more than he could take. He pulled the right cup of her bra under her breast. She arched into his hands instead of shying away. The way she was soft for him, her gaze and gentle smile, would be the closest he ever got to God. He was sure of it. She had started on his belt, and he kneeled, knees on either side of her, to unbuckle the rest of the way.

*~*~*~* Kal. She pictured Kal, and it was a delusion. Mostly. It was also confusing and thrilling, and she shivered from the inside, not the outside. Really, she should tell him. It was probably time to tell him to run. Instead she kissed him. Her head flickered between two realities as she fought the surge of strangeness within her. She was right here, right now with Sagan, but she was also years before on a random Thursday night with Kal. Why it was that night, she wasn’t sure. The TV was on in the background, and Sara was asleep. It was just a regular night. But that’s what she loved most—the time with him that had seemed endless. She was wasteful with it, reading a book instead of staying curled in his arms. She’d thought forever was a given. Kal knew her so well, knew her body so well. And instead of boring her, it thrilled her to know the satisfaction she sought could always be found with him. Sagan again—kiss him. He’s naked now, looking needy and unsure. Scared maybe. That meant things were going according to plan. He could probably fuck his way to the moon, but to be loved? At that he was a virgin. She pulled him on top of her and sighed as the weight of him took her back. Kal…she would kiss his neck because it drove him crazy. He would tell her lovely things in her ear, dirty things too. She spanked him lightly and was delighted to hear his deep laugh. Kal had often held her hands above her head, nipping at her breasts. Now Sagan: same maneuver, making it easy on her. The groan of pleasure was the same. He watched her carefully between kisses and grazing teeth. She bit her lip and arched her back. Closed her eyes.

Now Kal released her hands, fingertips sculpting her shape, lingering on her hips. Sliding down, he would taste her now. He loved it—so he said. She trusted him completely, making it easy to glean pleasure from his fingers and tongue. She grabbed Sagan’s hair now, demanding faster, demanding harder, so very close. He looked up from between her legs and watched as she panted. “Don’t come. Don’t! Not yet.” He climbed back up her body, hooking one of her knees over his shoulder. His voice was ruining her balance; Kal slipped away in her head. Heat radiated from her spine. “Wait. It’s coming back. You should go.” She was so close to falling over the edge it was almost painful to make Kal stop. Wait—no, Sagan. “No. Shh.” He poised above her, ready to press into her. Slowly, ever so slowly he began to move. She adjusted her hips to accommodate him. “Look at me. Please look at me.” And then it was Kal; he always made her look at him. He wanted that connection, watching her fall apart. It was powerful, the lust end of their love together—urgent and sharp and disorienting. It made her forget where she was, who she was, until there was only him. She grabbed the bed sheets and fisted them, thrashing under him. Kal always knew to rub her some more, to intensify and give her what she needed. Sagan somehow did the same. Kal’s brown eyes and Sagan’s green ones combined into hazel in her head. And then she tumbled down into the bliss, white behind her eyes, gasping, screaming. Kal had always made fun of her afterward, laughing that she was so loud. She would blush and hide her face. But that was how it was with them. No reservations, just trust. Sagan followed her soon after, and when they were both spent he collapsed next to her, supporting her head on his arm. “Thank you for that. It was something else.” He pushed a piece of her ponytail off her cheek. “I’m surprised it came to this…” “No more than me.” Now she wanted to leave. She wanted to get up and run as everything inside her boiled and squirmed. This was all so twisted—Kal and Sagan swapping in her head. He chuckled a little. “Got to say, all that screaming made me feel like a damn caveman. I think I could catch dinner with my bare hands right now.” His unexpected humor made her laugh, a little too much. “He was lucky. Your husband.” He whispered the last part, as if realizing it was way, way out of bounds for him to bring up. She sobered. “That’s where you’re wrong. He would have been so much better off without me. Such a good man. I took him, and really I should have let a nicer girl have him.” “To hear that laugh? Trust me, he was lucky. Did he make you laugh?” Sagan propped himself up on an elbow, replacing his bicep with a pillow for her head. His questions made her want to put her clothes back on, made her sweat. But to bring him close, she would have to let him in. Even now. “You’re nice now?” she teased. “I must have a magic vagina.” She gave him a skeptical glare. “No, I just want to know more. I’m a little jealous is all…new feelings all around.” He shrugged.

She swallowed and opened up. Hating it. “He did. Almost every damn day he made me laugh. And then when we had our baby? To see him as a father? It does something to a woman. When a man protects his baby and is just smitten? It makes you want to fight harder, be better.” He nodded like he was hearing her, but whether he really did was impossible to know. She pressed on. “Losing them both? That made me realize how little good there was in me.” Her eyes rimmed with tears. “It wasn’t your fault.” “It was very much my fault. Yours, of course, for the truck being there to begin with, but mine for the loss of them.” “You’ve been wanting to die.” He stated the fact like he was her therapist. “No. I wanted them back, or I wanted to be where they are.” “By dying?” “That seemed like the most logical way to get there.” She shifted, uncomfortable talking about her family with their murderer. “But if this stuff inside me can make more good people die, then I don’t think I should go without a fight.” Now it seemed to be his turn to be uncomfortable. He sat up and looked away. “Let’s not discuss this now. I just want to be here with you.” She wasn’t the only one living in a slightly altered reality. “No, you need to hear me. That’s the whole point. I let you in so you could learn that this matters to me. I don’t want to be a weapon or pave the way for you to create other weapons. I don’t want to be a way to bring death to hundreds. Thousands.” She sat up and crossed her arms. “Stop talking about this. Come back to me. Here.” He lay back and opened his arms to her. Savvy shook her head and found her crumpled T-shirt in the sheets. She popped it on and fixed her bra. He smacked the mattress. “No.” She shook her head, dismissing his tantrum. “You listen to me. I’m not going to make it. You know it, and I know it. This stuff has an expiration date, and it doesn’t seem to be coming out of me.” Hopping out of bed, she put on her panties while watching him fumble with his feelings. Finally he put them into words. “I’m fixing that.” “No, you’re fixing it so you can have this compound stuff and use it.” She glared at his ring. He got out of bed, but didn’t put his clothes on. “I’m fixing it. I’ll get it out of you, sell it to the highest bidder, and be done with it. Then you and I can do that…” He pointed at the bed. “…a whole lot more.” She saw tenderness in his face. “You’ve never apologized to anyone, have you? Like, ever?” She stepped up and poked him in the center of his chest. “I don’t apologize.” His walls were flying up. “You need to. You need to apologize to me. Without that truck…” She sputtered and paused a moment to gather herself. “You took everything that mattered. Everything I cared about. You will never understand how it hurts. It turned me inside out. I can’t even do anything but hurt.” She was crying again, and she hated it as much as she ever had. He looked alarmed and went to the closest light switch. “No, no, no,” he said as the room was illuminated. “Not now.” She wiped at her eyes angrily, and the moisture on her fingers glistened. It looked like liquid mirror on

her hand. The light in the room was suddenly so bright she couldn’t even find Sagan. Everything went white, and Savvy didn’t realize she was falling until she almost hit the floor. His arms came around her, and just before she lost consciousness she heard him: “I’m sorry, Savvy. I’m so sorry.”

*~*~*~* That night. That awful night. In an instant she was there again, driving Kal because he’d been drinking. Wait, that sounded more serious than it was. He’d had two glasses of beer with dinner. But it was their rule that Sara never see them sip even one alcoholic beverage and then drive. Impressions. She wanted to make a good impression, so she was driving. It was misty, and the music was low. She’d been thinking about how quickly she could get Sara into bed when they got home. It was getting late. When the truck came into her lane, time was reduced to wishes. Her reaction of pulling the car into the opposite lane? How many hours after the accident did she reflect on that choice, that reflex? Tobias had told her a million times it wasn’t her fault. It was just a quick, knee-jerk reaction. But he didn’t know what she did: She had tried to protect herself. In that second, in that moment when it mattered most, when being selfless would have changed everything that mattered, she’d picked her own sorry ass to save. She should have turned the wheel the other way, sent the passenger side away from the truck’s grill. In lighter moments she tried to believe she’d been trying to outmaneuver the truck, get to the wrong side of the road. Surely she’d known that if she turned toward the grill, she was definitely going to crash. But in her mother’s heart, she should have known the outcome of her choice. She truly believed she should have known. Sara’s screams. God, her screams. And that’s why she wanted to die. A chance to make that choice again. To give her family a chance this time. To swap places. She would give anything to swap places. She was crying again now. The kind that never stopped. Gasping, she heard his voice before she was able to put it all into perspective. Then the blur began to clear. He wiped her face with a warm washcloth, over and over. Shouting at someone in the house? On the phone maybe. She could only see endless white when she opened her eyes. The back of the mirrors. It had to be. She blinked over and over to clear her sight, and finally she made him out. Worried. Scared. Bossy. “…and you better figure this fucking thing out right fucking now. You know what I’ll do. What the assassin will do!” “Stop threatening the man. God, have you never figured out that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar?” She spoke and sobbed at the same time. “She’s conscious.” Sagan ended his call and continued to wipe her face. She put her hand to her cheek, getting some of the silver on her fingertips. “Is this the compound?” “I don’t think so. Supposedly it’s not so easy to get out of you.” He gave her a half-smile as the doorbell sounded. “Can I leave you for a second? That should be Boston.” He gently sat her up. She sighed. Boston would for sure see that the bed was a mess, that Sagan wasn’t wearing a shirt, that she was without her pants.

He was the first one through the door, outpacing Sagan. He collapsed on his knees. “You okay?” “I’m here.” She shrugged. “Trooper?” “He’s safe.” Boston pulled the comforter off the bed and wrapped her in it. “What I’m about to do? Let it happen.” “What?” In the foyer she could hear Sagan on the phone again. Boston lifted her. “I think I can walk.” She gave him a hard look. “Promise to come with me. And not to kill me.” His gold aura bled through the suppression of Sagan’s ring. “You know I can’t go anywhere. Don’t do anything that will jeopardize your brother.” He fed her words back to her then. “Just because I love him doesn’t make his life more important than yours.” She shook her had, still blurry from wherever the compound had taken her. “And Tobias—” “Is dead. I’m so sorry. He’s dead.” Boston looked wild eyed. Rage filled her to the brim. All of this was for him. All of this. “Since the night we left the compound.” The savage had bedded her knowing Tobias was gone. Gone. Gone. She tossed off the blanket and headed for the door. “Sagan, you motherfucker!” She screamed then, just a wild, primal howl of pain.

Chapter 33 Run Boston watched as Savvy lost her mind, or what was left of it. Her pupils shook, turning a kind of silver that was completely wrong. He hated to do it, but there was nothing else. He hit her on the side of the neck and caught her with his shoulder as she fell, slack. He hefted her as Sagan entered the room at a run. “Put her down.” Sagan stepped toward him in the dark. “You know what this means.” “I do.” Boston punched him with one hand, twice, and stepped over him when he collapsed. Boston could feel tears running down his face as he navigated the stairs, descending them as quickly as he could. Sagan began screaming about retribution, but Boston didn’t have time to run up and finish the job with his gun. The starting pistol was engaged. The gears were already turning. He set Savvy in the passenger seat of his vehicle, and Trooper whined at the sight of his lifelesslooking lady. Boston was driving before he even had the door shut. Cars raced toward him on the road, and he knew then that Sagan had more than just him close by for protection. Back in Maryland, Boston had a few friends. But not many, and in this trying time he wasn’t quite sure how strong his alliances would be. And he still didn’t have a clue who the assassin was.

*~*~*~* Silas knew better than to run after Boston. He was lethal and ridiculously talented in the art of death. In his head, Silas had him as a backup for the assassin. He heard his men’s cars pulling up. Bugs’s audio surveillance and the front security cameras were obviously working. He met the arriving backup on the stairs. “Is someone chasing them?” he demanded. “No, sir. We wanted to get here first. Make sure you were okay.” The four men in the foyer looked panicked. “Damn it. Go! Boston has her. Shit. God knows where they’re going. Go!” He pointed at the door, and his men slammed themselves back through the entryway. He spoke to Bugs, who he knew must be still listening. “Get me the assassin on the phone!” Silas hunted for his cell as the ringer sounded. “I need to see some bad things happening to Match. Right now!” he yelled, not waiting for the assassin to speak first. “Sir, it’s me.” Bugs’s voice came over the line. “I’m sorry. He’s missing.” “Who? The assassin? Is there no one loyal without me standing on their neck?!” Silas tossed the nearest thing he could find. The foyer’s vase exploded against the wall. “Well, actually they’re both gone. The assassin stopped checking in soon after your last visit with him. And Boston’s brother stuffed a set of clothes and put them in a computer chair. The men thought it was him and…” Bugs trailed off. Silas said nothing, but he saw red. He’d had so many safeguards in place.

“Send men over there—I want to know who took the brother.” Silas collapsed on the stairs. “Well, I tapped into the security, and it appears the maid who shot up the beach took him, with the help of a delivery man. I just—” “I need this contained. Damn it. Contain it, Bugs. For fuck’s sake!” There was a knock at the door, and Silas found his gun before answering. When he did, the chemist stood there, looking disheveled. “She was having difficulties?” he said. “Yes. But now she’s fucking gone, so go get the rest of the essential element from the volcano. Now.” “That’s impossible.” “Why?” Silas threw his hands in the air. “Have you not seen the news? They’re evacuating right now. The volcano went into pre-eruption, and we lost sight of the chamber where we believed any remaining element to be. The mountain collapsed on it. All we have is her.” The chemist paused in his panic to catch Silas’s hand. “What’s this?” Silas pulled his hand back to look at the silvery substance there. “What? It’s from her—from her eyes. It was her tears.” “It has the same sheen. Very telling. Iridescent a bit. I’ll be right back.” Silas watched as the little man hurried out and then back into the house. He began a process of collecting the material into a very sturdy-looking bowl made of rock. As if he couldn’t help himself, he began explaining. “This is volcanic rock. It’s the best thing I’ve found to hold the compound for a bit. But this isn’t that. I don’t know what this is, but perhaps it might be a workable byproduct. We need more from her. Her tears you say? Surely I can agitate her eyes enough to produce more.” Silas had a million things running through his head: how to get back to Savannah, how to prevent her from meeting her deadly end, how to shore up his organization, the fact that his decision to have only one active assassin was possibly a shitty one… He looked down to find the chemist still scraping at his skin. “You might get more upstairs. That’s where she was crying.” The man took off, mumbling. Silas walked to the open front door and looked out. He needed her back before the agency that was on to him got to her. They wouldn’t care if she lived. He’d heard her scream about him being a motherfucker. But he was hoping, still hoping she’d just been warning him about Boston. She had to know that what they’d just done mattered to him. They’d shared, and he’d never done that. Nevertheless, it was time for beast mode. He had to put his newfound concern back in his chest and seal it there. Obsession suited him better, and so it began again. He would have her back.

*~*~*~* Jack came to in a living room he didn’t recognize. Standard handcuffs on one wrist fastened him to a couch arm. He shook off the haziness and turned to see Teresa, who handed him a glass of water and two aspirin. “I’m sorry for your headache.” “You kidnapped me? Surely there are better ways to get in my bed.” He gave her a smile. A tall, well-built man with sad eyes entered the room and put his arm possessively around Teresa. So

that’s how it was. Something about him seemed familiar, pricked at Jack’s subconscious. As he mulled this over, he didn’t let on that he knew the sullen man slumped in the recliner chair was Boston’s brother, Match. “Sorry, didn’t know she had a guy.” Jack put his head down and set the glass and pills on the table. “I’m a recovering addict. Never allow myself pain pills.” Teresa looked surprised, then regretful. He knew she was most likely thinking of the drug she’d hit him with. “Wait, aren’t you Savvy’s brother?” Jack added after a beat, turning toward the tall man. “I thought you were dead?” Teresa patted the man on the arm. “No. He’s alive. This is Toby.” Jack surveyed the room. He could be out of this place in under ten minutes, leaving behind everyone Sagan was worried about. Not the best. Whoever these people were, they’d put all of Sagan’s #1 MVPs in one house—their first mistake. Always spread out your assets. He should at least gather more information. For one, why was Toby among the living? Who went to all that trouble? Whoever it was had access to a lot of resources. “Do you know why I have you here?” Teresa sat on the coffee table in front of him. “Sagan. He’s the reason anything strange ever happens to me.” Jack stretched his neck while canvassing the house from his spot. He could see three other men, and a brief glance outside let him know he was on the upper floor of a house. He thought he saw a shape outside as well. Match remained lumplike in the corner. “We need to know where he is, Jack,” Teresa said. “It’s very important that we get Savvy to safety. I know you worry about the women involved with Sagan, and this one has a very volatile medical condition. She needs treatment for it as soon as possible.” Teresa sat forward—candid, friendly. “Toby, can you and Match head downstairs for me?” Toby made a very male noise of disapproval. “It’s okay, baby. I got this. Jack’s one of the good ones.” “He put a gun to your head.” Toby refused to look away from Jack’s gaze and crossed his arms. “I backed him into a corner,” she explained. “He’s not armed now. It’s really okay. I’ve got tons of backup. This guy is not going anywhere. Trust me, I can do my job.” She gestured to the crew lurking around. “I want my sister back,” Toby said, still looking directly at Jack. Jack nodded, dropping his stare so Toby would feel his message had been received. After Toby and Match shuffled down the stairs, Teresa’s manner changed. “I know you think we’re amateurs here. And I watched you case the joint just now, Jack. There’s a lot more you can’t see from where you’re sitting.” She removed a thin, wand-shaped device from the roll-top desk in the room. “Pretty Teresa, is that even your name?” He sat back and crossed his legs. “You can take those pills orally or…” She motioned to the “aspirin” he’d put down. “Please say anally. I’ll even undo my belt for you!” Jack winked as he put his free hand on his belt buckle only to find it missing. “I took your belt. Don’t worry, you’ve been completely stripped and redressed. So anything I’d

administer anally was already delivered while you were unconscious.” She winked back. “You take the fun out of everything.” He leaned forward and took the pills. Whatever she held was cutting edge. He’d never seen anything like it. “My motivator catching your attention? Don’t worry, as soon as your pupils are dilated you’ll find out what it’s all about.” Teresa flipped a switch on it. She then had him show her his mouth, to prove he’d swallowed them, and open his hands as well. They sat in silence for a while. He examined the handcuff on his wrist as they waited for whatever she gave him to take effect. He could get out of the cuff easily enough by dislocating his thumb. Or, his wrist had been fractured when he was a kid, and he’d found that if he quietly re-broke it, he could get out of even the tightest of cuffs. He knew when the drug had started in on his system because his tongue began to feel like pins and needles were poking it. She sidled close to him and slipped the device under his middle finger’s nail. She hit a button, and it was as if he’d been paralyzed. “What you’re experiencing if a version of sleep paralysis. The combination of the drug and this make it so you can speak, but do little else. I can make this last for minutes, hours, days—or even permanently just by adjusting this. Crazy, right? So I need to know where Savvy is. Go ahead and tell me.” She adjusted the device and his tongue was able to move. “This is some new shit. Some well-funded shit.” He couldn’t move his toes. He tried his fingers, and he was able to get his pinkie to move. “Where’s Savvy?” Teresa asked. Jack could blink, and he could breathe. “I don’t know.” “Where’s Sagan?” The truth bubbled up. “Fixating on her, wherever he is.” “What do you do for Sagan?” She adjusted the device again. He wanted to say friends. He wanted to say brothers. Both of those were true. But instead he said. “I don’t work for him.” Which was also true, but quite a bit less helpful.

*~*~*~* Savvy had pain in the back of her head. Trooper nosed her cheek, but she was unsure of where she was. Then she realized Boston was driving on a dirt road. Bouncing around, she sat up and held on to the dashboard. “What happened?” Her headache was blinding. “We’re getting out. Now.” He gave her a quick glance. She reviewed what she remembered as she reached over and scratched Trooper’s head. “My brother? Did you tell me he was dead?” Savvy stopped petting Trooper to grab Boston’s bicep. “I did. But I just heard from my brother, and Toby is fine. They’re both in the same safe house right now. It’s crazy. I’m sorry for scaring you like that.” His aura glowed golden. “Whose safe house? Sagan’s?” “No. We’re not sure whose it is. I think it’s a shady organization. They have your brother and mine and Jack. One of each of our loved ones. My brother says he’s not free to leave. I think he took advantage of a chaotic moment to reach out in the first place. He hasn’t responded to my messages since then.”

“What do they want?” “Simple. You. But more important at the moment, this area is evacuating because the volcano is moving toward eruption.” Savvy held her head. It hurt so very much. “How is Sagan not hearing this?” She motioned around the inside of the car. “This is the second vehicle I’ve stolen tonight.” Boston downshifted. “I gotta get us out of here, and I know he’s watching.” “Boston, stop the car.” She touched his cheek. “What? No.” He ignored her and alternated between looking at the map in his lap and the road. “Please. I have to talk to you.” He gave an exasperated sigh and pulled of into the grass. “He’s scouring this place, and if some agency knows where we are, then they’re looking too.” Trooper crawled up between their seats and settled in Savvy’s lap, as if he knew what she was going to say. “Listen, let’s tell them where I am—these shady people. Let’s trade me for your brother and mine. And Jack too. I like him.” She smiled at Boston’s confused face. “That’s what they want. Then they’ll turn you into an experiment. You’ll die.” He gripped the steering wheel. She looked at her hands fisted in Trooper’s fur. “I’m going to die anyway. Soon. I can feel it. Why not use the time I have left to help the people we love?” He shook his head. “You stay with Trooper,” she said. “Stay safe. I can send Toby and Match to you. I’ll negotiate for Sagan, get him Jack back too. I know he loves that guy—” Boston cut her off. “Here’s what’s going to happen: We will find a place to hunker down and wait out the volcano. The government will hang on to our brothers until we’re found. And then—” She interrupted by covering his mouth with her fingers. “You’re talking weeks. I’ve got hours to bargain with. They’ll swap out our people for me, and than nature will take its course.” She shrugged. He kissed her fingers before moving them out of the way. “You’re forgetting that you’re one of the people I need to keep safe. I want to snatch up the chemist and force him to fix you.” “If I could be fixed, he’d have done it already. Sagan has probably been threatening him forever.” Overwhelmed by the finality of what lay ahead for her, Savvy felt her eyes fill with tears. As she wiped them away, she saw silver. “Boston, I have one job: stop the bad people; keep the good people safe. Those marching orders came right from my daughter. I think I can do that. I know how. Let me go back to Sagan. Trust me.” “Trust you to kill yourself?” “No, to use the inevitable to our advantage.” “I’ve spent so long looking out for you. I can’t let you do this on your own.” Frustration and anger burned through her now, along with the increasingly volatile mystery compound. “Do you know how hard it will be to get out of this nightmare any other way? You have a chance. I can get you your brother and your freedom. Your life. Your choices back. No more being a puppet for Sagan. I want that for you. Doesn’t that count? Please?”

Trooper began to whine. “I can force you right now,” she added. “You know that.” “I think I’m in love with you, Savvy.” “No. When it’s love you never have to think about it. And that’s okay. Really, it is. I would have never made it through this without you. And everything is finally clear to me now.” She got out of the car and came around, but Boston refused to get out of the driver’s seat. She was about to pull him when he caught her wrist. He swung his legs out and hugged her to him. Savvy wrapped her arms around him. “Let me come with you,” he begged. “I’ll make sure it goes okay, make sure it’s clean. Okay? I know you’ll do the end with or without me. Let me protect you until then.” Boston rested his head on her shoulder. She rubbed his back. “Okay. You’ve got some good in you, Boston.”

Chapter 34 Hours The very last thing Silas expected to see was Savannah walking through his open front door, hugging her middle. “You’re back.” He stated the obvious, and his hand flew to his ring, confirming it was still there. “We need to get back to Maryland. My brother, his brother, and Jack are in trouble. And also, Tobias is not dead.” She flashed a smirk and waited like she had all the time in the world, despite her obvious shivers. Boston stood behind her in the doorway, a defiant look on his face. “No. No.” Silas could barely comprehend the flood of information, and much to his chagrin, he had little success in making himself care about it. He just wanted to go to her, pull her upstairs, and make her be soft for him again. “You’re back. Come to me.” He held out his arms. She sighed. “Boston, can I get a minute here?” Savannah stared at her bodyguard until he finally agreed and stepped outside again. “I’m going to kill that guy,” Silas told her, his blood pounding through his veins. “What was he thinking?” Savannah took a deep breath and seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “The night my family died, in that split second I made a choice. It was the most important thing I’d ever had to do, and I wish I’d done it better. I didn’t get a warning. There was no scary music or narrator telling me how my life would go.” She took both his hands in hers. “But you’re getting that now: me. I’m telling you, this is the only warning you’ll have.” Silas felt his eyes widen. “I have hours left. I can feel it,” she continued. “Inside me, this compound that doesn’t belong has had enough.” He shook his head. Suddenly he felt as if he were watching this scene unfold from somewhere else. “Tell me you know different,” she said softly. “Tell me you have answers that will beat this time bomb I’ve become.” Silas sorted through all of his complicated emotions. Resignation was the last he came to before he replied. “Not yet.” “I know you love Jack, and he’s not safe. I’m the only thing that can fix this situation. I know that for sure.” Silas pulled her into a hug. “I’m a grenade with the pin pulled. Please tell me this brief time we’ve connected mattered to you. It’s all I have left now.” Though he would never admit it to her, Silas knew if there were a way to save her, it would have been presented to him—even just in theory—by now. It wasn’t going to happen. And he had to save Jack. Evidently she was going to get to try being a hero for her dead/not dead brother. As Savannah had just

explained, she was clearly the weapon for the task. But despite this clarity, he now felt as powerless as the people who worked for him must have felt every day. Karma. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. “I just got you. Don’t leave.” She looked up at him, and her eyes took on a silver shine. “Make it count. It matters more than you know.” “Fine. I have the chopper ready to take us to the jet. But Boston stays. I don’t trust him. And I’m not giving up on finding an answer for you.” “Fine,” she responded. “But he has to at least get out of this area with the dog.” Silas nodded and called Boston back in. As he put his jacket on, he tossed Boston his car keys. “Drive. You think you can do that without betraying me?” They climbed into the SUV: Savvy in the passenger seat with Trooper and Silas and the chemist, who they’d wrenched away from scraping Savannah’s tears off the bedroom carpet, in the back. Savannah flipped down the passenger side visor and used the mirror there to look at Silas. “By the way, you thought my brother was dead and didn’t tell me?” He met her gaze. “I was investigating it. Obviously I was right to keep that from you. Why upset you when it wasn’t necessary?” “To protect yourself.” “And you.” He lifted his chin. She slapped the visor up, ending the conversation. Boston drove them past police cars aiding in the evacuation. “I think you should take the dog,” he told Savvy. “No, he stays with you.” She scratched Trooper’s ears. “He’s miserable with me, whines at the door. And you’re not planning on coming back, are you? I don’t want to deal with a heartbroken dog. Who knows what my lifestyle will be like after that asshole is done with me.” He gestured to Silas with his thumb. “I can hear you,” Silas noted. Savvy and Boston ignored him. “Hopefully we’ll all get out alive.” She looked out the window. The chemist was pounding away on his laptop, which he’d balanced on top of a huge duffle bag. “You better find a way,” Silas hissed at him. She finally did turn in her seat, heat in her angry gaze. “Quit threatening people. Jesus! I am so goddamn sick of seeing people live in fear around you. I can’t even…” The chemist spoke up. “Please, Savannah, keep calm—your eyes. You have to keep your internal chemistry nice and even, that includes your emotions.” “I’ll stop. I’ll stop.” She nodded at his words and stroked the dog again. Boston looked tense. Silas also now realized that Boston looked in love. The desperate devotion on his face matched Silas’s feelings precisely, no matter how much he tried to lock them away. How had he never figured that out before? He’d just been assuming Boston would fear him more than he felt anything else in his life. The helicopter was waiting, and the tense group exited the SUV all at once, leaving the doors open and

the vehicle running. After they’d boarded the chopper, Silas announced his newest plan: “Boston stays with us. We have no time now. The chemist needs his lab.” They’d barely settled into their seats on the helicopter before it swooped low again to drop them off on the tarmac next to Silas’s private plane, but looking at the evacuation mayhem around them, he knew it was the only way they’d ever have made it.. As they boarded the plane, Silas willed their combined concern for Savannah to keep everyone on their best behavior. It was an odd feeling, not being totally in control. On the plane, she chose the seat next to Boston and kept the dog in her lap. Silas watched as she and Boston exchanged loaded looks. Finally, she put the dog on her chair and stood, coming to sit next to him. “This is what’s going to happen,” she said calmly, her breathing measured. “And I’ll need your help. Okay?” Silas nodded. He wanted the look again. He wanted to be dick deep in her while she screamed his name. “If I’m around long enough for your chemist to figure out a way to save me, great. I’ll submit to that. But in the meantime, I want to tell this agency we’ll swap my brother, Boston’s brother, and Jack for me.” He frowned and shook his head. “No. No. It’s just not possible. They’ll take you and extract the compound even if it kills you. Jack can take care of himself. Your brothers are fine while I still have you.” “And if I die? Then where will they be? You know what I can do when the ring isn’t around. I can get free. Give me to them, and I’ll get back to you after the others are safe. Okay? If I have any time left, it’s yours.” She sighed. “Are you okay?” He ignored her plan and shrugged off his jacket as she shivered again. She allowed him to wrap it around her. “It’s all borrowed time now,” she said. “Maybe it always has been. I feel clear, though.” She tapped her boots together. “Now it’s time for me to do what I was meant to do. Why I’m still here.” She touched his wrist. “You have to let me. I learned to exist with this crazy force inside my head, not act on every impulse. Maybe you’ll learn from me and seek the things I miss so much. That’s what life is about.” She stood as the seatbelt sign came on. “You sound like you’re giving me your swan song.” He felt dread settle in his chest. She shrugged and went back to her seat.

Chapter 35 Twenty Minutes Teresa listened hard—to the words being said and the body language around her. Jack would be out of his paralysis in about 20 minutes. He’d told her a ton, but it hadn’t been remotely the story she’d expected. Even under duress, he’d spun her tales of his childhood with a young Sagan. And it really seemed that was about all he knew. Sagan had kept him shielded from the inner workings of his organization. The two were still protecting each other to this day. Teresa sighed and set her instrument of interrogation aside as her phone rang. She answered even though the screen said blocked. “Hi, this is Savvy Raine. I’m calling to speak to my brother, Tobias. Who is this?” “Hello, Savvy,” Teresa said, keeping her voice even. “Last time I saw you, I was wearing a maid’s uniform and you were lifting off in a helicopter next to Sagan. I’m so glad to know you’re alive.” She motioned to the men in the room and pointed to the phone. Four different people pounced on computers at once, trying to triangulate where the number was coming from. “You work for them? That’s a bit of a shock,” Savvy said. “I want to talk to my brother.” “Just a minute.” Teresa went downstairs to where Toby and Match were playing cards. She handed the phone to him with a simple, “It’s her.” Toby took the phone. “Savvy? You’re okay?” Teresa didn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but the sheer emotion in Toby’s grateful sob put sympathy tears in her own eyes. Match looked at his feet. “I never stopped looking. I knew you’d make it. I’m pissed, but damn it.” Toby gave the sigh of a man with the world lifted off his shoulders. “I feel better. Okay, sure. Okay. I love you, Savvy.” Toby wiped his eyes and handed the phone to Match. Toby walked over to Teresa, smiling as she’d never seen him before. “She said she’s doing a deal, and that it’ll all be okay.” Teresa wasn’t sure what the hell the deal was, but she put on her best encouraging smile, worried already about how exactly it would play out. When Match handed the phone back to her, it was Silas Sagan on the line. “Put Jack on.” “No, sir. Not even a little bit. I can tell you he’s fine, and that will have to be good enough.” Sagan sighed dramatically. “Here’s the deal. You people are going to bring Toby, Match, and Jack to the riverbank by the graveyard in twenty minutes. We will swap Savannah for them. We will not hand you Savannah until those three men are safely in our car.” “We can do that. No worries. Twenty minutes.” She disconnected the call and ran upstairs. They had so much to do in twenty minutes. Finding a double of Jack would be the hardest part.

*~*~*~*

Savvy looked out at the ocean through the French doors back at the Maryland house and listened as the men hashed out plans for the swap around her. They’d gotten bogged down discussing how many different ways things could go wrong. She finally added her two cents: “Sagan can’t come. He can’t be around me with his ring off right now. I’m too volatile. And I need to be able to work if I have to—obviously. That’s the whole point of this.” Boston nodded silently before the male conversation continued. Sagan insisted on staying close, but he promised to remove the ring and/or himself from the area when it became essential. Savvy shook her head, frustrated at his inability to see that it was essential now. They chose a meeting point where they’d be able to see immediately if the agency sent more than the one requested car. The chopper was already settled behind the water tower, ready to lift the hostages away. Savvy had a feeling Boston and Sagan wanted her in the chopper too, when it lifted off. Forget the deal, despite Boston’s promise to make sure the swap was clean. But that was not her intention. She could feel the Compound E boiling in her blood now. When she closed her eyes, she caught flashes of Kal and Sara. Amazing, beautiful, clear flashes. Her heart pounded with the thought of it, of them. Soon enough Boston and Sagan came to their conclusions, and they were back in the car, headed toward the meeting point. Boston explained four different plays she could use to make a getaway from the agency that hoped to take her. She pretended to hear them and fed them back to him. But all that mattered to her now was that her brother would be safe. Boston and Trooper would be able to have a life. Sagan had begun to freak out, finally seeming to realize he was powerless in this situation. He kept looking at her eyes, probably scanning for silver. He couldn’t stop tapping his foot. She smiled at him. “Do stuff different, okay? Do you hear me?” He nodded once and looked terrified. Perhaps he had real feelings for her after all. She hoped he did, that his hard, mean heart had been breached. She knew of nothing more powerful than the love she had for her family, and she’d shared that with him. After giving him all she had, showing him an alternative to brute force and relentless power, she hoped he would live like a man with a conscience. The other car arrived soon after they’d parked in the field designated for the meet. Savvy saw Teresa open the door and hold it for Toby, a man she assumed to be Match, and a very shaggy Jack. Savvy opened her door as well, and Boston held the dog tight. She met her brother halfway between the vehicles and hugged him hard. When she pushed him on in the direction of the car, he stubbornly waited for Teresa. “You have to go get in. Real quick,” Savvy urged. Teresa nodded. “It will all be fine, Toby. I’ll see you again soon. I love you.” “But I wasn’t a hostage.” Toby turned to his sister. “I’ve been helping them.” Savvy opened her mouth to try to explain, but no words came. There wasn’t time for this. They needed to go. Sagan got out of the car and squinted in Jack’s direction. Savvy followed his eyes. Jack was off— something was off. He was staggering, crazy, and headed right for her, rather than toward the car. Savvy motioned for Sagan to take off the ring. He gave a quick shake of his head.

She mouthed Please and touched her heart. He slowly removed the ring and put it in his pocket with reverence. She prepared herself for the screams as they hit her in the heart and knees at the same time. She swayed, and Toby caught her. “What’s wrong?” She shouted to Sagan and pointed, even as she stepped back. “Get out of here! Take them and go!” She wanted to kill him so badly her hands were shaking, her rage confusing even to her. Savvy locked eyes with Teresa. “Get safe.” She pushed Toby in the direction of the helicopter. The blades started up as the chemist ran from the car to climb inside. Before Savvy could do anything else, Jack scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder. She ripped the glasses from his face and saw that his eyes were all wrong and his long wig askew. This wasn’t Jack at all but a bit of agency insurance. “I’m coming with you!” she yelled, but he wouldn’t put her down. “Where’s the real Jack? You didn’t keep your word!” Thankfully the others seemed to have realized Jack wasn’t here as well. She looked back to see Teresa and Boston shoving Toby and Match into the chopper with Sagan. She silently hoped Sagan was right and Jack, wherever he was, really could take care of himself. In the next beat she was in the back of an agency car, going backward at what felt like a million miles an hour. But she could have gotten out. She could have overwhelmed them. Savvy had a feeling she might be at her strongest yet—the burst of energy before the black hole. She waved away the man sitting next to her, trying to take her blood while they bounced along at top speed. The driver whipped the car around, and Boston narrowly missed hitting them. He was following. He hadn’t gotten into the helicopter. He was a complication. She wanted him far from her. “What’s wrong with her eyes?” said a voice inside the car. She sought her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were mirrors, and her blood felt like it was made of silver. Her vision grew hazy and metallic. She closed her eyes. She knew it all now: bits of the universe combined with the conversation and technology surrounding her. The high-speed chase would lead back to the headquarters of the agency, which was located underneath a box warehouse. She could sense Boston and the beautiful energy of Trooper, who was with him in the car. She was close now—close to what had caused the universe to begin and tasting the ending on her tongue. She could see Kal’s face as he held sweet Sara close, the sun threading in their hair. She could almost hear Sara’s voice and felt longing deep in her uterus, where she’d carried her baby. Her baby. In the garage now, the technology became a barrage. She could sense Sagan, and Teresa and her brother cuddled in the chopper. They’d found love, something good for him. Savvy smiled for a moment, but it faded as she sensed Boston nearby, still fighting for her, looking for a way to save her. He didn’t understand that this was the perfect place for her to be. She allowed her captors to place her on a gurney, because she knew their intention to wheel her to the center of their facility. The heart. The best place. She realized then that Trooper was in the building, intent on finding her with a loyalty that would not fade. She let her soul call to his. Trooper would only find peace in her arms, and selfishly, she didn’t want to go alone.

But Boston, he was still outside; the tricky dog had faked him out. And this crazy building was insulated against anything, ready for nuclear war. She tapped into the electronics now—so easy, the metallic deposits in her body lined up like circuitry to do her bidding. She pictured her intention and made it so. Gates slid into place. Secure. No one getting in or out. Trooper raced down a hallway, alongside a supply van, tongue lolling. She was so very far beyond what they were doing to her now, as if she watched from above. Futile. Everything was to be made clean, and soon. Someone announced that her body temperature was almost 500 degrees, her vitals off the charts. “That’s just not possible,” a voice yelled. “Not possible!” And yet it was. Somehow her supercharged body held together as she waited for one last thing before exacting the revenge she’d been created for. He was moving fast, puzzling the workers who didn’t expect to see such a thing—the workers in the agency who all had crisp, perfectly red auras. This agency was covered in blood because it wasn’t even from the government, it was a shell, a sham operation for creating and collecting the worst kind of evil money. This was it. The final piece in the puzzle explaining why Savvy had been here all these months alone, in pain, in darkness. And this was how she would leave: the ultimate retribution. Not just getting even— there was no even after her family had been destroyed—but ridding the world of bad and protecting the good. The last bit of Compound E would be used to set things right, ending a beginning that had held the potential for unlimited suffering. He was almost here. She sat up to meet him, arms extended. Sara would get her dog, after all this time. Savvy had to believe. She needed to know there was meaning in this. He hit the room running, and Savvy caught Trooper when he leaped. She felt his sweet fur and excited licks and finally knew calm, assurance. The people around her saw the end and began to scramble for cover far too late. Savvy kissed Trooper’s head. She could let go now. The hard hold she’d had on the remaining shreds of herself was over. And with her release, there was only white. Only peace.

Chapter 36 Different Boston at first thought it was an earthquake, but as light pierced through the cracks in the sidewalk, he knew. The air was sweet all of the sudden, like the smell of her conditioner when she’d just stepped out of the shower. He felt her whisper his name, so very close to his ear but far away in his heart. Savvy was gone. She’d blown the entire agency to hell, and with her, the Compound E. In the end, she had been the only weapon she needed. He cried so hard, people thought he’d been injured. And it was hours before he realized that Trooper had gone with her. He found nothing, but all of a sudden he just knew. It made sense. He began the long trek home. To wherever that would be. When he arrived at Sagan’s beach house, he found the gates wide open. His brother met him in the foyer and gave him a huge hug. “Listen, brother, Mr. Sagan says he has a place for us here if we want.” Match’s eyes searched his. “That’s good, right? “No. It’s not good. I’ll explain it all later. For now, just work with me.” Boston shook his head and left his brother to look for Sagan. It didn’t take long to find him. He was drinking in the Blue Room. “She’s gone?” Sagan asked, seeming to already know the answer. Boston nodded. “You remember when we met her here?” He nodded again. “I had no idea what she could do, you know? I had her here all the time, thinking I was in control, but she was running the show from the minute she kicked down that front door.” “Where’s her brother?” Boston asked. “Teresa has him. They’re in love, so they say. You going to tell him about her?” “I will.” Sagan lifted his drink to his lips. “I’m never going to get over her.” “I hope not. I hope you do all the stuff she told you to do, make a different life for yourself. I’m taking my brother, and we’re leaving, so you know.” Boston went to his room and packed his things. He half expected some goons to come in and blow his head off, but none came. Back downstairs he motioned for his brother to follow him, and they walked out the back door. Match seemed reluctant. “Where will we go?” he asked. Boston came close to his brother’s face. “She died so we could leave. We’re doing it.” He took to jogging with his duffle bag slung across his chest by the strap. It took about 45 minutes to find her ring beneath the rocks, but with enough digging, he did just that. He and his brother had their first mission now: bury Savvy’s wedding ring with her family. After that,

he wasn’t sure. But he had his freedom, and he would make the most of it. Even if it hurt like a bitch.

*~*~*~* A couple hours later, Jack walked into the foyer of Sagan’s house and was shocked by the lack of security. After a few minutes he found his friend shitfaced in the Blue Room. “This is the best you can fucking do? Get your shit together, Sagan.” Jack took the drink away from him. “She’s dead.” “Yeah. I heard from the agency guys holding me just before I killed them. They had loose lips and were not what they seemed. Such a bummer for pretty Teresa. I don’t think she knew.” “I want to die a little bit.” “You’ll get over it.” “No, I don’t think I will. I don’t think I can. If I hadn’t focused on using her for so long, I might have seen who she was in time. Crap.” He wiped his mouth. “Listen, the Cassos are still all riled up. They want retribution and all that kind of bullshit. How about you and I go down to the fucking tropics and have that surf shop after all?” “And my father’s legacy?” Sagan slurred. “His legacy sucks dick. Let’s not drag this burden around forever. You and me. We had a good plan. What do you say?” Jack pulled his hair into a ponytail. “I don’t take loyalty lightly, Sagan. Back in the day, you and I were brothers. I know you value that too. We’re the only family we need.” Sagan was silent for a moment, looking at the desk. Jack began to wonder if he’d passed out. “Yeah. Let’s fucking do it,” he finally said, looking up to meet Jack’s gaze with surprisingly clear eyes. “Dismiss everyone. Send the chemist back to his family. The Cassos can take this place. Let’s go.”

*~*~*~* The light was so bright that Savvy expected pain, but only warmth surged over her. She heard the waves. She could taste salt on her lips, and after a moment she heard other sounds around her: Kal sang softly to Sara, who piped in a little here and there. How could she have forgotten they did this? Then Trooper licked her face, his fur going up her nose. She sneezed and opened her eyes. Kal looked up from the sandcastle he was building with Sara and smiled. “It’s you,” he said. “You’re here?” Savvy tried her voice, though her tears made it hard. “I think I am.” “Mommy! You made it! You made it! I knew you would.” Her daughter climbed into her arms, sharing her lap with the squirming Trooper. “Is Trooper my new dog? He’s the cutest!” She pulled her daughter into her arms and kissed the top of her head. Sara’s little hands locked behind her neck, and Savvy felt her broken heart knit together once and for all. Her baby. Her sweet baby. After a moment Sara took off, and Trooper followed, barking, back to the sandcastle. Kal pulled her out of the sand and into his arms. “My beautiful wife, how’d it go?”

“I love you so, so much. I think I did it.” She touched his face and was reborn in his eyes. “I know you did it. I believed in you the whole time.” Kal gave her a deep kiss. And Savvy was whole again. Nothing extra. No volatile compound, no strange powers or super senses—just filled with the love of her family, which had never really left her.

Epilogue Years of dodging, hiding and posturing had brought Silas here. The surf shop was a little shack on a Mexican beach. Jack was in the water instructing two bikini-clad ladies on the finer points of balance while Silas waxed a board. There was another lesson in fifteen minutes, so he wanted to be ready. The largest local town, which was nearly 100 miles away, was recovering from a volcanic eruption that had caused tremendous damage to its economic infrastructure, though fortunately no one had been killed. In a few days, funds from an anonymous donor would show up to help with the rebuild. It would be a great investment for the Sagan legacy. But here on the beach with his best friend, Silas thought mostly of her, of how his actions had led to her pain, but perhaps also to her purpose. She’d certainly led him to his. Making her proud was the only thing that gave him joy now, and he had to guess at what to do most of the time. He’d started volunteering at an animal shelter. He and Jack had two dogs as shack pups, and chances are they’d wind up with a few cats too. He couldn’t really explain the change in himself over the last six weeks, though he’d tried over beers on the beach with Jack the other night. “So this is it? You’re all fixed? Ready to live life as a good-doing pope?” Jack had asked. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s nice to get to see you do something other than be a fucking bastard.” Silas had twisted his Corona into the sand. “I’m not fixed. But I’m trying. She just did something to me.” He’d rubbed his eyes. Talking about her was hard. “She was something else, I’ll give you that. But damn, how many years were you, like, Darth Vader’s evil stepmother? That’s a hell of a turnaround.” Jack had twisted his Corona in the sand as well. “Yeah. Sleep with one eye open, Devlin. You never know.” Silas wanted the topic changed, but Jack wasn’t through. “We’ve got two really ugly dogs,” he’d said. “One of them shits on the living room floor every fucking day. I mean, do you feel where I’m coming from? Old Silas would have shot the thing dead on day one.” Jack had grimaced. “Do you think there’s redemption for an asshole like that? Maybe she got something through to me. When I think of ways to make changes, it feels better than making a million dollars.” Silas had sighed. “I sound like a pussy.” “I fucking love pussy, so rock on, brother. I’m not trying to bust your balls. I just want to make sure this will stick before I get my hopes up. We’re living the dream.” He’d gestured wildly to the surrounding landscape. “I knew there was a chance for you. Just want it to last.” Jack had picked up his beer for another swig. “I can try. I owe that to her.” Silas picked up his bottle and held it out for Jack to tap. Together they had toasted: “To Savvy.” And now, as his customers approached, Silas hoped this battle between the man his father had created and the man Jack believed he could be was one worth fighting. He knew Savannah would think it was, and that kept him pushing forward.

*~*~*~* Boston looked at the gravestone, no longer blank like the first time he’d visited it. Kal, Savvy, and Sara Raine A forever family Toby had finally had the stone etched. Boston touched the sharp edges in the words and glanced up to see Match still sitting back in the car, probably listening to music. Their relationship remained complicated. After all, Match’s poor decisions had locked him into the life he’d had with Sagan. But they’d also brought Savvy into his life. She. She was extraordinary—not a breath of fresh air but a hurricane force for him. She refused to let his mind settle, even after her death. She’d want more for him than perpetually mourning her loss. So today was goodbye, officially. He reached in his pocket and found her wedding ring. Just a thin gold band. Nothing flashy. He cleared his throat a few times before speaking out loud, albeit quietly. It had taken him years to get to this point. To be ready. “Hey, Savvy. I don’t know how to start this. I guess I miss you. I mean, I know I miss you. But you’re with your family now, and I know that’s what you wanted. Hope Trooper is being a good dog and all that.” He slipped her ring onto his pinkie finger and twirled it while he tried to come up with words that mattered. “I feel guilty for missing you like I do, knowing you’re happy now. Out of pain. And you were in so much pain. I guess I just hope I mattered a little. To you. Like you did to me. I don’t even know what I’m saying.” He shuffled his feet. “I guess I wish I had a purpose now. I know you’d want me to move on, but I don’t know how. Match is safe, and I’m staying on him. Sagan’s out of business, as far as I can tell. But I feel like he needs to be punished more. I just don’t know what’s next for me. Got any ideas?” Boston looked up at the sky. The sunny day had been an invitation to lots of children at the adjacent playground. Their joyful noises fit in here. They were a good soundtrack. “Anyway, I came here to bury this ring with your family. It’s all that was left of you—there was nothing left of that building. God, the stuff you exposed. So many bastards are in jail. Millions of dollars dispersed to all kinds of charities. It was good work. You did a good job, Sav.” Boston took to a knee and pulled out a pocketknife. He hacked at the soft grass close to the stone. He made a fairly deep hole, his hands getting caked with the soft dirt in the process. He took a deep breath. Parting with Savvy’s wedding ring would be the final separation. He’d kept it like his own private memorial in his pocket, touching it when he missed her, or felt lost. Which was a lot. But it was time. He nodded at the words on the stone, wiped off his hands, and pulled on the ring. It wouldn’t budge. He tried harder, but it was like the metal had welded itself to the bone in his hand. He tried yanking it again, perplexed by how deeply he felt the ring pull within his finger. The tingling he felt seeping into his nervous system wasn’t painful, but it was scary. He was about

100% sure he was about to drop dead from a stroke or a heart attack. Boston put both hands on the ground to steady himself, and he felt energy siphon up, using his palms as a gateway to his bones, his heart. This was it, he was dying. His mind whirled with pictures and thoughts—some were his, some were not. Boston’s eyes rolled in his head and he feared he might pass out when suddenly he could focus again. A tornado of energy swirled to a stop in the center of his chest, and he gasped. On the gravestone he now saw shimmery, mirrored words: Stop the bad people; keep the good people safe. And he heard her then, just like after the explosion all those months ago—simply his name in his ear, her voice, her words, her goodness. The words on the stone faded into nothing, and all was still. All was painless. But now he had a purpose.

Acknowledgments Husband and Kids: You are exactly the reason I’m here. Helena: My beautiful friend, I like it best when you flatiron my hair. My salt forever Nina: You are a force of nature. Can’t believe you haven’t been able to shake me off yet. Shannon: Your gorgeous mind makes everything more beautiful. Tijan: For every day, all damn day. #Bootcamp Teresa: The friendship is so easy, you’re in charge of deleting my user history and the beautiful images! Thank you for the gorgeous cover Erika: The best laughs are when I’m sitting right next to you. Jillian: You are more vibrant and gorgeous than your shoe collection! (And that’s saying something!) And thank you for the use of your feet in the chapter headers and teasers! Jessica RO: I can’t believe your genius puts up with my crazy. Thank you so much. Texas K: If I could put that handstand rose guy pic here for you I would Leisa: Your selfie camera takes the best pictures My Midian: Is this one kicking enough ass? No one can top you. Pam: I’ll see you on Sunday nights Mayhem: You do this thing like a beast! Jen Matera: Still sorry about that Fire book. Tara S and Meghan and JM: In Vegas we shall rule Kelly, Lb, Sara, Lisa M, Beverly C, Nise, Patti, Michele, Nancee, Daisy, Liv and Ruth Mom and Dad (S&D) Uncle ted and Aunt Jo I adore you all! PST girls forever! Thanks to my boob group, all the Pams, the Filets, 101, C.O.P.A and FB groups that offer so much help. CP Smith for the pretty insides! My SWAT Team and the Revenger Group! Heather Wish, Dina Littner, L.J. Lisa, Roberta Curry, Ramona Johnson, Even Chin Lavin, Blair Ackerman, Robyn Diebolt and TL Wainwright. Rachel Marks!! You made me the happiest woman! Friends, family, readers, bloggers and author friends –Thank you!

About the Author There are a lot of eyes in Debra Anastasia's house in Maryland. First, her own creepy peepers are there, staring at her computer screen. She's made two more sets of eyes with her body, and the kids they belong to are amazing. The poor husband is still looking at her after 17 years of marriage. At least he likes to laugh. Then the freaking dogs are looking at her—six eyeballs altogether, though the old dog is blind. And the cat watches her too, mostly while knocking stuff off the counter and doing that internal kitty laugh when Deb can't catch the items fast enough. In between taking care of everything those eyes involve, Debra creates pretend people in her head and paints them on the giant, beautiful canvas of your imagination. What an amazing job that is. The stories hit her hard while driving the minivan or shaving her legs, especially when there's no paper and pen around. Within all of the lies she writes hides her heart, so thank you for letting it play in your mind. Debra has written a smattering of books in a few genres. There are two paranormal romances in the Seraphim series and now four contemporary romances in the Poughkeepsie Brotherhood series. Fire Down Below and Fire in the Hole complete the Gynazule Series. The Revenger, a dark paranormal romance, is finally unleashed on the world. A novella called Late Night with Andres, is special because 100% of the proceeds go to breast cancer research. (So go get it right now, please!) You can find her at DebraAnastasia.com and on Twitter @Debra_Anastasia. But be prepared

Books By Debra Anastasia

Crushed Seraphim Bittersweet Seraphim

Poughkeepsie Begins Poughkeepsie Return to Poughkeepsie Saving Poughkeepsie

Shackled

Late Night with Andres

The Revenger

Fire Down Below Fire in the Hole