The run-down trailer indicated as my destination is not what I’d expected a well-paid tattoo artist to be living in, especially once I learned Jarah gave Nadia York a very large signing bonus to entice her to stay in this area, not move to where her coven lives in Delaware. I can’t help but wonder what she did with the money. Or why Jarah hasn’t questioned the same. He knew exactly where Nadia lives, even warning me the GPS would try sending me to the other side of this mountain if I simply typed in her mailing address instead of her coordinates.
Of course, if I hadn’t convinced Jarah to stay by Daegan’s side, I could’ve asked him. Sara’s insistence I consider the possibility of Jarah having an ulterior motive stopped me from inviting him along. Besides, Dr. Riley Kagan seems confident Daegan will wake today, going by his brain activity. Dante and Jarah want to be there when he does.
Ezra regained consciousness last night, and while he didn’t have anything that would help us identify who shot him, I was able to offer him my thanks. And my promise of help, whatever he needs. The blank IOU is the dangerous kind to give to another predator, but Ezra’s earned my gratitude. What he did is something I’ll never forget. All I’ll have to do is look at Sara and Soren to be reminded of what I almost lost.
With my car parked in the stone driveway behind a base-model sedan, I get out and make my way to the front door. It opens before I get there. The sight of the woman standing there stills my steps. Even my wolves turn their attention from the woods around us to the female glaring at me. Power emanates from her, enough power to tighten my chest and make it uncomfortable to breathe. Nadia is strong, holding a well of energy within her.
It’s her eyes that freeze me in place, though. I looked into these eyes a few days ago. A different woman, a different house, a different situation, but I won’t soon forget the eyes of the pregnant human widow I’ve become responsible for.
“Nadia York?” I say the name to ensure I’m talking to the powerful witch and talented tattoo artist I was supposed to find at this address and didn’t accidentally stumble upon Gail Farmer’s relative by mistake. Because I swear this woman could be Gail’s twin.
The female tugs a hair tie off her wrist, revealing a spider tattoo, and gathers her long, dark brown hair into a high ponytail, exposing more tattoos on her neck, then scans the woods as if wondering if I’m actually talking to her. Or maybe to make sure we’re alone.
“Who sent you here?”
There’s a warning in Nadia’s voice I feel in my bones. This petite human wearing purple sweatpants and a ripped Rehoboth Beach sweatshirt will hurt me if she doesn’t like my answer. Or at least try to hurt me. I have no desire to test her either. Magic is dangerous, and I have no idea if this woman knows how to channel her talent or not.
“I came on my own.”
“Who gave you directions to my house, then? ’Cause there’s no way you could’ve stumbled upon me.” Nadia waves her hand at the narrow road in front of her place. “GPS doesn’t work well in these parts, and this house isn’t on a map.”
“Jarah.” As a firstborn, he has no last name, at least not in the shifter world. Among the humans, he likely does. I don’t know it, though.
The pulsating energy dancing along my skin cuts off. Immediately. Nadia flicks her gaze to the woods again, then disappears inside the trailer, leaving the door open.
The strong scent of herbs hits me the moment I step into the dimly lit trailer. Some of the smells I recognize, some I don’t, but the presence of the herbs along with the variety of crystals and stones scattered throughout this place answers my question. Nadia is a practicing witch, or at least dabbles in the craft. And the latter might be worse.
“I have tea steeping in the kitchen. Come in and join me.” Nadia opens an accordion-style door and walks into the room beyond.
A richer, earthier scent of herbs chokes the air in the kitchen, but after a couple of breaths, the pungent smells fade and a sense of calm settles over me. I drag my tongue along the inside of my bottom lip, tasting the concoction in the air. Oh yes, Nadia knows what she’s doing, all right.
She motions to the two-person table in the corner of the small room. “Sit. If you’d like tea, you can have my cup. I’ll set some more to steep.”
“No, thank you, Ms. York. Water is fine.”
Nadia smirks. “It’s not poison, you know. It’s licorice tea. My gut’s a mess today. Guilt will do that to you. Licorice tea helps.”
“What do you have to feel guilty about?” I take a seat at the table, my back to the wall, and study the young woman standing by the sink.
She pauses with her hand wrapped around a glass for a long moment before turning the water on, letting it run for several seconds through a filter, then fills the cup. “Jarah sent you, huh?”
“No. I came on my own. I told you that.”
Nadia sets the glass in front of me, then fixes her tea. Tension builds an awkward silence between us, but I don’t break it. Guilt clings to this woman, from its telltale stench emanating from her pores to the tremor in her hands.
“So Jarah’s not blaming me, then?”
“What would Jarah blame you for?” I ask instead of reminding her for a third time Jarah didn’t send me.
She shrugs and joins me at the table. “Like you said. He’s not the reason you’re here. So let’s focus on you. What’s your name, and why are you here?”
“Ilan Kane.” I take a sip of water as Nadia brings her tea to her lips and inhales. “And I wanted to ask you what you know of the torture that occurred in the tattoo shop where you work.”
Nadia’s hands shake so severely, tea sloshes over the side. She sets the mug down on a curse, wiping her fingers on her sweatshirt, and jumps from her seat. With a firm tug, she yanks a few paper towels off the roll by the sink, then blots up the mess on the table. “Torture? I don’t know anything about torture.”
“Then what do you call it when a man loses his hands and feet, is nearly beheaded, and skinned?”
Nadia jerks her head to me. Her widened eyes show betrayal. She reaches for the back of the chair and drops on it, nearly missing the seat. “Daegan? They did that to Daegan?”
“Who is they?”
“Shifters.” Nadia scrubs the side of her hand against her mouth. “They told me they wanted to interrogate him. Not torture him. They never said anything about torture. I wouldn’t have agreed if I knew they were going to hurt him. I don’t care what’s at stake. I could’ve figured something out. Daegan’s a nice guy. Sorta scary in a serial killer way, but still a nice guy. He chose the coolest pictures to get inked with too. Even tipped good.”
Nadia’s words rush together. From the lack of color in her cheeks to her racing heartbeat, I can’t help but believe her.
I drop my elbows to the table and lean forward. “Tell me everything you know, Nadia. Otherwise, Jarah will be sitting in this chair asking you the same questions.”
Her lips quiver. She licks them and scoots back on her seat until the back stops her. “I didn’t know they’d torture Daegan. They wanted to ask him questions.”
“About?”
“A baby. They said he hid one. That he should’ve delivered two to some guy who lives around here. But he didn’t. He only gave my brother-in-law one to drop off.”
Every muscle in my body tenses with what Nadia is implying. Soren has a brother or sister. Somewhere. My twin’s other child is somewhere out there without me to protect it. “Another baby.”
“That’s what they said.” Nadia shakes her head. “I told Barry not to get involved. That we’d get the money he owes another way.” She waves her arm to encompass the kitchen. “I’m giving them everything I have. If those jerks weren’t charging Barry so much interest, he’d be free and clear already. Now Barry’s dead, and my sister is stuck with his debt. They’ll make Gail pay it too. They’re not going to forgive a fat sum like that.”
The knowledge I was right about Nadia’s connection to Gail Farmer doesn’t satisfy me. I have a bad feeling about where this is going. “Barry owed these shifters who wanted to question Daegan money, didn’t he?”
Nadia dips her head, then stares at the soggy paper towels. “A lot of money. He had a gambling problem. Gail didn’t know about it at first. Not until she pulled up their savings statement so she could plan how long she could be off on maternity leave. The account was wiped clean, and their credit cards were maxed out. They fought. Barry promised he wasn’t going to go to those fights anymore, but he kept going and racking up debt.”
“What kind of fights?”
Nadia grabs the balled-up paper towels and uses a clean edge to dab at the lip of her mug. “Shifter fights. He knew it was wrong. He knew it was hurting Gail. He kept going. He said the adrenaline rush was unlike anything he ever experienced. Better than sex. Better than anything. I wanted my sister to leave him. We have family in Delaware. They’d take us in. Gail wouldn’t hear it. She loved him. They were going to work through their problems.”
“While you helped them pay off their debt.”
Nadia rubs at her nose, then scrubs her hand over her eyes. “I’d do anything for my sister.”
“Even allow shifters to torture a good man?”
Nadia yanks her furious gaze to mine. “I didn’t know they’d hurt Daegan!”
“What exactly did you think they were going to do?” I match her glare. “Ask him nicely where he stashed this missing baby, then be content when he told them to go screw themselves?”
She pushes to her feet and slams her palms on the table, spilling more tea. “They told me if they didn’t find that kid, my sister’s baby would take its place.”
“Daegan’s fingers, his toes, his groin, even the skin off his eyelids was sliced off.” Nadia flinches and covers her mouth, muffling a gag. I lean closer and lower my voice. “He couldn’t fight them either. He was paralyzed. All he could do was lie there while they chopped off his hands, his feet…his head. All but one tiny little section of his spine, Nadia. His pride mate found him. Saved him. No thanks to you.”
On a sob, she pushes away from the table and runs into the living room. I follow her and step in front of her, moving from side to side to block her attempts to run. Finally, Nadia stops.
Hands balled into fists and tears running down her face, she glares at me. “They came after my family! I would’ve taken those monsters out my own way if it wasn’t for Jarah. For him, I didn’t. I was a good girl. He made me promise to be good. I don’t want to be a good girl anymore! Good girls end up alone.”
She pushes past me. I grab her arms, stopping her from escaping. Running won’t save her. “You don’t ever want to break a promise to Jarah. He’ll come after you, your family, everyone and anyone you love, and he’ll make them wish they were never born.”
Nadia shakes her head, her ponytail bouncing around her. “Jarah’s not like that. He’s a…”
“He’s the oldest assassin walking this earth, Nadia.” Shock paints itself across her face. I lean closer and lower my voice. “And he considers Daegan his son.”
Nadia shoves away from me. She’s shaking. Terror leaves her as white as a ghost. She wraps her arms around her. “Is Daegan going to be okay?”
“Yes.”
She swallows hard. “The two lion shifters who kept giving Barry money to gamble with are from the Krisban pride. Single shifters, but they’re conniving little jerks, messed up with a lot of illegal shit.”
“Gail knows they’re shifters?”
Her sharp nod answers me. “I told her. She knows about your world because of me. Jarah saved me when I was little. Chased off a mama bear who was after me. A real bear, not a shifter. I must’ve disturbed her cubs. I don’t know exactly. I was out running wild in the woods like I always did after kindergarten. He took me home then, and my mom recognized him as a shifter. She’s like me. Gail isn’t, though. That’s how it works. The power’s hit and miss. Sometimes it skips generations, whole family branches.”
“What about Barry? Did he know he was gambling on shifters?”
“No.” Nadia wraps her arms around her stomach. “He knew men were getting hurt, though. Really hurt. Yet he kept going back. Lying to my sister. Risking his marriage. And she kept forgiving him.”
I sigh, wishing I’d had these details days ago. Gail wouldn’t have known to confide in me, though. She’s not like her sister. The only way she’d know she was in the presence of shifters is if I’d told her.
“Pack up what’s important to you. You have ten minutes, then we’re out of here.”
“What?” Nadia skids in front of me as I head to the door. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re leaving with me, Nadia. We’ll pick up your sister, then I’m getting you both somewhere safe.”
She stares at me, utter confusion on her face. “Why would you do that? You don’t even know me.”
“I know your sister. She’s under my protection. Looks like you are now too.”
“Know her?” A hint of protectiveness bleeds into Nadia’s voice. She steps closer to me. “How do you know her?”
“Barry and his brother died in my kitchen. They were shot by Krisban males who wanted my nephew.”
Nadia backs up until her back hits the wall. “I’m sorry. My family or yours. That’s what it came down to. My family or yours.”
“And now your family’s mine.” I motion to the room. “Pack up, Nadia. The clock is ticking.”