There wasn’t a single thing to eat, but there were plenty of drugs on the table. Lines were already measured out from the 8 ball of coke. Needles, a lighter, and a spoon with residue of heroin still on it. A meth pipe and crystals in a baggie with a few sprinkled on the table’s surface.

  Grimacing, I moved out of the kitchen and into the living room. There was no TV set where I would expect one, even in such a dump as this place. The couch was obviously as old as I was, if not older, and had an odor to it that suggested it had been exposed to moisture one too many times. Other than the stinky couch, there was a scarred-up coffee table that also showed signs that an addict lived there.

  After what little Jack had told me about Nishia, my heart ached for the girl who would be Sanctuary’s newest resident as soon as she was released from the hospital. With the amount of drugs I’d already seen, I knew Faye wouldn’t have been able to afford them.

  My mind went to the most likely scenario—she’d traded her daughter to her drug dealer who dealt in human trafficking as well.

  The apartment only had two small bedrooms and a bathroom to search. The bathroom was enough to make me gag at how nasty it was, so I quickly moved on.

  The first bedroom was definitely Nishia’s. The bed was rumpled, but other than that, the room was in almost perfect order. Books stacked beside the bed, a cheap little computer on top of it with several notebooks and pens, as well as a ratty old backpack I assumed she carried everything in. There were no pictures on the walls, no unnecessary trinkets. Just the things she needed, which were carefully arranged like they were precious to her.

  For someone from this neighborhood to be able to get a college education, those books and that piece-of-crap computer would be a lifeline to a better future.

  I closed the door gently behind me before taking the few steps to the second bedroom. As soon as my fingers touched the knob, a chill that had nothing to do with the low temperatures slithered down my spine. On instinct, I reached for the gun I had tucked into the back of my jeans.

  Once the door was cracked enough that I could kick it open a little, I adjusted my phone in my hand to give me maximum distance to see, and I had my gun at the ready.

  But two steps inside, I knew the weapon wasn’t necessary. Lowering the gun and my phone, I let my head fall back onto my shoulders and blew out a frustrated sigh.

  “Fucking junkies.”

  On the bed, with a needle still sticking out of her arm, was Faye Cohen. Eyes open, lips blue, with white residue all around her mouth and down her chin. I couldn’t tell how long she’d been dead, but even with the coldness of the room, it was easy to determine she’d been gone for at least a few days.

  Biting back a groan, I slid my thumb over my phone screen and lifted it to my ear. What I’d thought would be a quick interrogation to get Jack the information he wanted had just become a hell of a lot more complicated.

  At least I didn’t have to make this shit look like an accident.

  But what the fuck should I do with her body?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  nishia

  The shadow’s laughter was malicious as his ghost hands forced my knees apart.

  I struggled.

  Wiggled left and right in an attempt to move backward away from him.

  His laughter grew louder, full of an evil amusement that sent shivers of fear and dread down my spine.

  I tried to kick my feet. They were locked together yet he was still able to get my knees apart.

  I swung my fists around, but my wrists were tied. They’d been that way for so long that I no longer had any feeling in them. Movement was sluggish at best, and when my blows did connect with the shadow’s chest or face or arms, he grew more and more amused.

  Stop.

  Stop.

  STOP!

  Gasping, I snapped my eyes open, my heart beating a violent tempo, sweat beading on my forehead, filling my nostrils with the scent of fear…and the realization that the shadow had been a real person. And he had done those things to me that I kept reliving in my nightmares.

  Panting, I glanced around the hospital room for Jack. I needed Jack. He made the nightmares better. The shadows didn’t come when he held my hand while I slept.

  The door began to open, and some of my fear receded. “Jack?” I whispered when no one immediately stepped inside.

  But when the person standing outside my room finally entered, my fear returned tenfold. I clutched at my blanket and burrowed back into the bed, trying to make myself as small as possible as the large man strode forward. It took my brain a few seconds to realize he was wearing a police uniform and the word SHERIFF was embroidered on the left side of his shirt. He had a utility belt around his waist with a Taser, gun, and handcuffs, along with several other items.

  He was gigantic, not just in height but in the muscle department as well. He had a silver wedding band on his left hand and a tattoo with the letters L-E-X-A across the knuckles of the same hand, while T-A-L-I was inked on his right hand’s knuckles.

  As if he could sense my fear, the man stopped several feet inside the room and held up his hands in a “hold up” kind of signal. “Easy, Nishia. I’m not going to harm you. My name is Ben Davis. I’m the sheriff here in Trinity County.”

  “Wh-where’s Jack?” I choked out through my wired-together teeth.

  “He had to take a phone call, but that was about twenty minutes ago. I told him I would wait to speak to you until he returned, but it’s getting late. I didn’t want to take up any more of your time than necessary.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Fuck. Someone is going to bust my balls over this.” Turning his head to look at me again, he gave me a grim smile. “Would you feel more comfortable if I asked one of the nurses to come in while we have a conversation?”

  “I-I want Jack.”

  “Jack’s cousin is my wife,” he informed me. “That means we’re family, and in this family, we take care of one another. I swear on my life, I won’t let anyone hurt you. No matter the threat, I’ll put a bastard down before I allow them to touch you without your permission.”

  “I just want Jack,” I whispered, sinking lower in the bed and pulling the covers up to my chin. “It’s safe with Jack.”

  “Okay,” he said with a nod. “We’ll just wait for Jack, then.”

  “Only Jack,” I said, trying to make my voice a little stronger. That seemed impossible when my fear felt like it was choking me. If I’d had food in my stomach, I might have puked. But I’d fallen back to sleep before the soup Jack had promised arrived. “C-could you…just go away? P-please.”

  The door swung open again, and I yelped, lifting the blanket up to my nose as tears stung my eyes. I didn’t want to be scared, damn it. I didn’t want to feel so freaking helpless. My body began to tremble, and all I wanted was—

  “Ben, I told you to wait for me.”

  At the sound of Jack’s slightly raspy voice, everything inside me relaxed, and I was able to lower the blanket back to my chest while I sat up a little straighter. My eyes stayed glued to him as he walked around the sheriff and stomped toward me. Even without my glasses on, Jack wasn’t hard to miss. Every inch of him was impossible not to see. He was huge. A beautiful, giant teddy bear who scared away all the shadows, the nightmares, the reality of what had happened.

  I released my grip on the cloth of the covers with one hand and lifted it, my eyes silently begging Jack to hold it.

  To hold me.

  His callused fingers caressing over my palm was all I needed to calm my pounding heart. Without releasing me, he sat in the chair beside the bed and turned a glare on the sheriff. “What was so important that you couldn’t wait a few more minutes to speak to her?”

  “I have two sick kids at home, man. Lexa is dealing with a mess coming from both ends with Finn and Tali. I want to get home and help her out.”

  His answer caused something to twist in my chest, but I didn’t focus on that sensation. Instead, I kept my gaze on the gentle grip of Jack’s fingers on my hand.

  “Then you could have waited until the kids were feeling better to get a direct statement from Nishia. For fuck’s sake. Her heart rate is jumping all over the place.”

  Frowning, I glanced up at one of the monitors. Through blurry eyes, I saw it had my heart rate, latest blood pressure reading, and oxygen level on the screen; the noise must have been turned off so I could rest easier instead of hearing the constant beep-beep-beep.

  “I’m sorry, okay? Can we just forget that I fucked up?” Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, Ben shifted his gaze back to me. “I apologize for scaring and upsetting you, Nishia. But now that Jack has returned, can we go over the details of what you’ve been through?”

  I shrank back into the bed again. “Wh-why?”

  “I’m trying to find the bastards who did this to you. The more information I have, the easier that will be. Potentially,” he muttered the last word with a heavy sigh. “Sometimes, the smallest detail can help more than you realize. So if you’re up to it, let’s go over everything that you remember.”

  I was already shaking my head, making it throb all the more. When a sharp pain sliced through my skull, I stopped and closed my eyes. “I-I don’t feel like it. I d-don’t remember anything.”

  “What she means is she doesn’t want to talk to you, asshole.” Jack’s voice had lowered, becoming kind of growly.

  My beautiful, gigantic teddy bear.

  My fingers clutched at his hand. “If she remembers anything, she will tell me, and I’ll be in touch. Now get the fuck out so she can get some rest.”

  “That’s not how this works, Jack,” Ben said with a stubborn tilt of his chin. “You know I have to get a direct statement from her. I’ve been holding off for as long as I can, but she’s fully coherent now, according to the doctors. I give you and the rest of the Hannigans special treatment, but I still have a job to do. A responsibility to the people of this county. The men who did this to Nishia could still be in the area, and—”

  I screamed, released Jack’s hand, and covered my head with the blanket. “No, no, no. They’ll get me again. I don’t want to go back. The darkness is bad. The shadows hurt. They smell bad and touch me and-and-and…”

  I couldn’t breathe. A sob was stuck somewhere in my throat, but it wouldn’t release. My body felt cold, frozen from fear and pain and the realization that I wasn’t as safe as my mind had led me to believe with Jack there to protect me.

  “Nishia, sweetheart, it’s okay.”

  I barely heard Jack’s voice, but then he uncovered my head and cupped my face in his hands. “Nishia, look at me.”

  My gaze was zooming around the room, looking for shadows, for any danger. Vaguely, I realized that we were completely alone now, but that didn’t fully register because I was still busy looking for the shadows.

  “Nishia.”

  No.

  Please.

  Stop.

  Stop.

  “Stop!” I screamed through my teeth as tears poured down my face, and I was finally able to draw in a deep breath.

  Jack’s tender touch tightened for a fraction of a second before he gently skimmed his thumbs over my damp cheeks. “It’s okay, little fairy. I’ll make them pay for what they’ve done to you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  jack

  A strange sensation filled my body as I looked down at Nishia’s tear-stained face and terror-filled eyes.

  Helplessness.

  I’d never felt it before. In the past, if there was a problem that needed to be solved for one of the residents of Sanctuary or my family, I simply handled it. No matter what had to be done, what lengths I had to go to, the threat to the people who mattered became a ghost.

  With Nishia, I didn’t know who had done this to her.

  I had no immediate leads to pursue. No abusive ex to hunt down and make disappear. The men and the van they’d driven to drop her at Sanctuary’s gates had completely disappeared. Her piece-of-shit mother was dead from an overdose. Necromancy was a thing of myth, so there was no bringing that cunt back and interrogating her.

  Nova assured me she would look deeper into Faye Cohen’s background. She promised to help me as much as possible from her end, and I knew if anyone could get me the answers we needed, it was my cousin. But who the fuck knew how long that would take?

  Until then, I needed to protect Nishia from the shadows that haunted her sleep—and the potential threat to her and possibly Sanctuary as well. Because there was no way those bastards had driven all the way across the country and then simply decided to dump their captive at my door. There was something deeper, more sinister going on.

  I could feel it in my bones.

  An idea was already swirling in my mind, but it would have to wait until Nishia was calm enough for me to make the calls needed.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, I cupped the back of her head and held her against my chest. Stroking my hand over her long, tangled hair, I did the one thing I rarely did, but had seemed to calm her during the few interactions we’d already had.

  Talk.

  I told her stupid shit. Like how I’d nearly burned down my uncle Raider’s house when my cousin Kingston had tried to get me to help him bake his mom a cake for her birthday when we were ten. Then there was the time I let River play dress-up with Kingston and me when we were twelve. I thought I heard the softest, sweetest laugh when I described how good I looked in a dress with bright-purple eyeshadow and crimson lipstick.

  Talking wasn’t something I was good at, but for Nishia, I would change every apect of myself to help her through this shit. With other people, I never knew exactly what to say. Watching and listening was my thing; it helped me stay blended into the background, so that people didn’t notice me. And those who did would pretend I wasn’t there. I scared them because they could sense the darkness lurking just beneath the surface.

  Yet with Nishia, she didn’t see the shadows that constantly tried to pull me over to the dark side and finish turning me into one of the monsters I’d spent so many years ridding the world of.

  Her fingers splayed across my back, and she seemed to snuggle against me, making herself more comfortable. My voice soothed her. My touch was like a sedative that calmed her, and before long, I felt her go limp against me as she fell asleep on my chest.

  Carefully, I guided her back so her head was on the pillow, and I tucked the covers up to her chest. Gently, I stroked the hair away from her face and mopped up the last of the tears still lingering on her pale cheeks. Once I was confident she was sleeping deeply and peacefully—at least for the moment—I walked over to the window and flipped through my contacts until I came to the one I’d never used before, but was there just in case.

  When Mila married Lyric Thornton, he brought with him a crazy-ass family that could easily rival our own. But his family matriarch was passionate about getting abused women and children the help they needed. When Emmie Armstrong and my mom had sat down for a chat, Sanctuary grew one sponsor stronger.

  With the money that my mother had inherited from a family who had planted the seed in her mind to start a safe haven for abused women, Sanctuary could do a hell of a lot of good. But not even money could buy some connections. Once Emmie joined the team as a silent contributor, it had opened up an entirely different world. One that not even Anya Vitucci’s connections could match.

  Anya’s had been gathered by instilling fear in the people who owed her favors. Emmie’s were from networking with celebrities—and collecting secrets from powerful people, ones that could topple their world to the ground if she dared to whisper them to the right people. And she sure as fuck knew all the right people.

  With Anya and Emmie working with my mom, we were able to get the women who came to us for help not only an education and skills to assist them in obtaining jobs that earned an actual living wage, but also completely new identities. A person who showed up at Sanctuary left with a new name, background, and social security number—all legally obtained and impossible to trace.

  The latter was made possible because of a member on Emmie’s payroll.

  Mieke Carmichael.

  Finding her information that was stored in my phone in code—something she insisted on—I hit connect and waited for her to answer.

  “Sup, biker boy?” Her slight Southern accent greeted me.

  “How good are you at tracking serial numbers on—”

  “I’ve hacked places that could get me life in a federal prison,” she interrupted me, sounding insulted. “Tracking serial numbers on anything—anything—is something I can do in my sleep. What do you need?”

  Glancing over at Nishia to ensure she was still soundly sleeping, I quietly told Mieke about the chip the ER doctor had taken from her arm. It had been turned over to Ben, but he’d sent me a picture of the device, so I had the serial number and a few other details to go along with it.

  “Send me the picture,” Mieke instructed without hesitation. “And if you have the address of where your girl lived in NYC, I can get more cyber information on her and her family than Nova.”

  “Who said Nova was—”

  She made a displeased noise in her throat. “I’m in the low-income housing database as we speak. Her IP address is all over the place. I’m erasing her digital fingerprints right now, but please tell her to either call me next time she needs to find something on the web or at least get someone with more abilities than she possesses. Stupid fucking housing system needs to update its security. I might do it for them and then send a bill to the governor of New York.”

  I heard rapid clicking, and then another annoyed sound left her. “Nishia Cohen. Date of birth… Aw, she just had her nineteenth birthday. Blood type, O negative, and looks as if she donated regularly. Good for her.”

  “You can see her blood type on the low-income housing site?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Nah, my dude. I can multitask. I’ve got her medical records up as well. I have like six screens open at all times. She doesn’t have a driver’s license, but her state-issued ID does say she’s an organ donor. Father…not listed. Hold up a sec, let me check out Mommy Faye’s digital footprint nine months before sweet Nishia was born…”