“I mean Windsor Moore didn’t exist until last year,” Omen announced. “Everything I found about her—her age, her job, her whereabouts—it’s all bullshit. Whoever’s hiding her did a damn good job, but there isn’t much I can’t find.”
The corners of my mouth hitched up. “You didn’t find me.”
“Because I wasn’t looking for you, asshole.” Omen’s eyes gleamed when he said, “I found Amber.”
“What?”
“We got attacked back in March. Jane Craven set us up, though now I’m wondering if Steele was in on it. Anyway, she was looking for a woman named Bethany. Said she knew she was with the Silver Shadows, so Steele called King. Of course, King denied knowing anyone named Bethany. I dug into it and found out Bethany was Amber Marks.”
“Okay, then who is Windsor Moore?” I asked the smug son of a bitch.
“I don’t know. Yet,” he said, pointing a finger at me. “But I will find her.”
“Okay, that brings us to the last name. The third one connected to a Silver Shadow. Who is she and who is she connected to?”
“Sullivan Prescott is sixteen years old. She was born in 2009. Her mother died during childbirth and her father didn’t want her I guess, because she was put up for adoption.”
I crossed my arms and waited for Omen to get to the point.
“Miss Prescott decided she wanted to find out who her real parents were and did one of those online DNA tests. It matched someone in a rather large registry that I may or may not have hacked into.”
“What the fuck did you do, Omen?”
“I hacked into the Soulless Sinners.”
“Motherfucker!” I shouted, slamming my fist on the table.
“Only the DNA registry, not the servers.”
“That doesn’t make it better!” I growled. “Wait, why would they have the DNA of one of the Silver Shadows?”
“They don’t. They have your brother’s DNA.”
“Justin?”
Omen nodded. “Sullivan Prescott is your little sister. Her parents were Samuel Peterson and Margaret Nichols.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Morgan
“Hey, bitch.” The greeting made me smile. Devlyn would always be Devlyn, and right now that was the most comforting thing in my life.
“I went to the doctor today,” I blurted out.
“What did they say?”
“He was the same doctor as last time. He did an exam and another ultrasound,” I explained.
“Morgan, what did he say?” I heard the worry in her voice, the concern for my well-being. I missed her so damn much.
“He said everything looked great. The baby is right where she’s supposed to be.”
“She?”
I shook my head, even though I knew she couldn’t see me. “I alternate between the two. Calling my babyitjust doesn’t feel right.”
“How are you feeling now?”
