Page 8 of Alexei

“You can say that again,” Jackson complained. “And if goddamn Milo talks to me today, I might kill him.”

My lips curved into a smile. Milo was our tech guy. He could hack into anything, obtain information on everything. Well, except the identity of the man who was kidnapping boys in Louisiana.

I suspected the same man was responsible for kidnapping boys all over the States. I had been after him for as long as I could remember. Almost like an unhealthy obsession, but I needed to solve it.

For Kingston, my fourth brother.

Goosebumps broke out all over my skin, just like they did every time I thought of him. It was guilt that was eating at me, I knew it. He was taken because of me. And my father, but I was there. I didn’t listen to him… I didn’t listen to my brother.

A lump formed in my throat, the fierceness always the same. My heart squeezed in my chest, and I’d have thought it a heart attack if I hadn’t experienced it before. But I had. Guilt was a powerful thing.

Atone for my sins, my soul whispered.

This predator could be connected to the man that took my brother. So there’d be nothing to keep me away. I was doing this for all my brothers. None of us had been the same since Kingston was taken from us.

Usually, it was boys ages ten to twelve that disappeared. Various ethnic backgrounds, usually without a family. Except for rare cases here and there, like Kingston, but my gut feeling told me it was the same guy.

And recently something had changed.

The kidnappings suddenly felt personal. Blond hair and blue eyes. Over and over again. Age no longer seemed to play a part. Though the M.O. remained. This man was now singling out a specific type of boy. In the U.S. and all over the world. And no longer ‘strays’ but now also boys that had families. Like my brother.

Twenty minutes later, we were back at the FBI headquarters in New Orleans. The three story, brick building sat tucked away on Leon C, right off the river.

Honestly, I never imagined I’d be working for the government growing up. I thought I’d be an artist or maybe a freelance artist. Yet, here I was. Kingston’s kidnapping affected each of us differently, and we all had our own way of dealing.

This was my way.

I swiped my badge and walked through the security check then waited for Jackson. Once he was done, we strode through the large, marble lobby towards the elevators.

Two men stood there, and I did a double take. They were large. Extremely large. Six foot five-ish if I had to guess. Their backs were to us, so I couldn’t see their faces. Just as I was about to nudge Jackson about them, a familiar voice called out behind us.

“Hey guys.”

Both Jackson and I groaned in unison. “I’m taking the stairs,” Jackson told me and disappeared before I could even say a word.

“Traitor,”I called after him.

The elevator binged and the door opened. The men in front of me strode inside and I followed, pushing the button for the third floor urgently.

“Too slow,” I grunted as Milo rushed into the elevator at the last minute, nearly getting jammed by the door. Fucking moron.

“Hey, Aurora. How was your night?” He grinned widely, his eyes sparkling with mischief or something else. I could never quite pinpoint it. Like he knew some secret that the rest of us weren’t privy to. Not to mention, the vibes from him always rubbed me the wrong way. It made me want to scream‘peeper the creeper’. Maybe because he was a hacker.

I rolled my shoulders to ease the tension. “Great.”

“Did you see anyone?”

Just because I have a firearm, it doesn’t give me the right to kill him, I reminded myself silently. We took an oath to serve and protect, not kill annoying little hackers that give you the wrong vibes.

“Yep.”

His eyes widened. “Who?”

“People.” I cracked my neck. Fuck, this tension was killing me. “You should try getting out sometimes. There are a shit ton of people out there.”

Milo actually looked pensive, as if he was debating whether he should do it. Man was smart as a whip, but awkward as fuck. He was about my height, five foot six, brown hair and brown eyes. Wore suits that were a size too big, so it made him look even shorter. I wasn’t certain how old he was, maybe just a few years older than me.

His hand reached out and I narrowed my eyes on him. What was he-