But I have to go carefully. She’s isolated herself so completely. She craves intimacy yet fears it. She’s erected thick walls, a princess in a tower. I can be the one who breaches them, but I must be gentle. Careful. Like a tiny vine winding between cracks in the stone.
I’ve been planning our meeting since I found her again in California. I’d love to reveal myself fully but If I move too fast, too soon, she’ll run.
She’s run so many times before. Her history is a bleak, empty expanse. Everyone she’s loved has died, so now she pushes away the ones she loves. She has no friends. No contacts.
Tonight’s scene was a breakthrough. She allowed a repeat scene. She allowed me to touch her.
And then, the thugs almost destroyed everything.
I received news of the attack almost as soon as it happened. My powers extend to infiltrating the police department, but I couldn’t get close to her there. I’ll have to wait until she returns here. To her home, that’s safe. Safe from anyone but me.
I stand over her bed and give myself a few minutes to watch her sleep.
I can’t stay.
I want to, but monsters are prowling the city, and two of them hurt my little bird.
It’s time for them to meet a bigger predator.
It’s time for me to hunt.
* * *
Inara
My first thoughtwhen I wake up is, "Someone’s in my apartment.” My fingers are on my gun before I’ve fully opened my eyes. I palm the cool, smooth weight and scan the corners of my room. Naked, I rise from the bed and approach the door at an angle, gun extended. I clear each zone and continue through the house, searching every room just like my mentor, Detective Collins, taught me.
The place is empty. The doors and windows are locked. The light on the security system panel blinks its message confidently—“Armed and Secure.” But it feels like someone has been here.
I close my eyes and sense the shadowy presence. A large figure, moving with panther-like ease, down the hall. The picture of the intruder is strongest in my bedroom. I can picture them standing at the end of my bed, gazing down at the rumpled sheets with a fondness that takes me by surprise.
But I’m just imagining things. I need to get moving. A check of my phone reveals that I slept until almost noon.
I dress quickly and clip my badge to my belt.
It’s late morning but dark and gray. My body is rested but sluggish from so much sleep. I’ll grab a coffee at the bodega and check on the lady sleeping outside. If she hasn’t moved on after the attack last night, that is.
I’m so preoccupied thinking about this that I blow out the door at full blast and stumble over a body crumpled on my doorstep.
I curse, losing my balance and going down on one knee. “Gods, I’m so sorry?—”
The body is curled up, long legs tucked halfway up in a fetal position, wearing a black hoodie and jeans. I edge around it, and I don’t need to lean in to check a pulse to know that this person is dead. But then I get a glimpse of the face. Pale skin, silver lip ring, mouth open in a silent scream. A stranger’s face but unmistakable.
The dead body is one of my attackers from last night.
9
Inara
“You just can’t catch a break,”Burgess says. He’s nursing a Styrofoam cup of coffee, but I don’t need to see his face to know he’s gloating. “Last night, then today.”
“It was a fluke.”
“Maybe the attack last night. But this morning?” Burgess turns and makes a show of scanning the walk up, hidden from the street by a thick hedge. “You live here?”
“I like the privacy.” Or I did. Now, there are grunts all over the lawn, and a crowd of gawking neighbors gather at the bright yellow crime scene tape. Even if it isn’t a murder scene, the fact that Burgess knows where I live now is enough to make me want to move.
“So what do you think?” Burgess asks as the grunts move the body. “Killed somewhere else and moved here?”
