Page 37 of Broken Obsession

The two of them had shared similar features, but she’d always been kinder and more vibrant. She’d gotten the analytical mind, and their mother had often joked that Eden was the one with his head in the clouds, while his sister had been the one anchoring him.

The old boathouse came into view, and with a start, Eden realized it was the same location as last time. The lot at the edge of the water was vacant, and he pulled in and parked facing therushing waves. The river looked dark and foreboding, and he second-guessed himself as he removed his helmet and stared at its depths.

His sister would never approve of coming to a place like this in the middle of the night. Of risking his safety on a whim.

Of Ares Major, in general, really.

But she’d been a kid when she’d passed. There was no telling what type of adult she may or may not have grown into. Eden would never get to meet that version of her. Would never find out if she would have adapted to the cold, or if their dream of relocating would become a reality.

The future had been taken from him.

She’d been taken.

What was there left to live for?

What was the point of keeping himself safe when there was nothing and no one to return home to?

Hooking the helmet strap to the handlebar, Eden dismounted and hit the call button as he walked toward the side entrance to the towering wooden building. Led by only the light of the full moon, it was hard to make out much. The boathouse was either painted white or gray, with strips of paint peeling and flaking off. There were two wide doors, cracked open, with enough space for him to slip between them.

Inside was just as cold as out, but there was a single golden light across the empty space, tucked high at the right corner. Just like last time, right down to the letter.

“I see you, Starling,” Ares’ voice came through the earbud as the call finally connected, but Eden must still be too far away, because he couldn’t hear him otherwise.

“Yeah? I can’t see shit.” Since he was familiar with this song and dance, he moved more quickly through the rows of parked boats than before, making his way across the concreteflooring to a rickety staircase that looked like it’d seen better days. He hesitated at the bottom.

Okay, this was different.

He glanced down the foreboding hallway to his left. That’s where he’d gone the last time. That path led to the room where he’d last seen Galen Stone alive. Why were they changing locations?

“The stairs look scary, but they’ll hold,” came the reassurance, proving he really did have eyes on him. “I wouldn’t call you all the way out here just to put that pretty neck of yours at risk. Cold, Starling? You seem it. Are you sure you’re Usurn born?”

“My ancestors emigrated from Huoyan.” Eden carefully made his way up the stairs, wincing with every creak and shake of the thin wooden boards beneath his feet. When he made the mistake of grabbing onto the railing and the whole thing wobbled, he swore.

“Explains why you’re so hot,” Ares teased. “Almost there.”

“Where the hell are you watching me from?” He glanced around, but there was nothing but shadowy darkness. At the top of the stairs, the light spilled through an open doorway, but the Black Hart wasn’t there to greet him.

“Are you squeamish?”

Eden paused just beneath the threshold. “What?”

“I should have asked earlier, but it slipped my mind. I’m guessing you’ve never hurt a person, though, am I right?”

“I hurt you when you broke into my house, remember?”

“I don’t mean during sparing or combat training. I mean reallyhurtsomeone.”

The door led to an open space that had probably once been used as an observation office so the higher-ups could oversee work being done on the ground floor, but aside from the shitty faded cranberry carpet and a single three-legged chair,this room was also empty. A hallway branched off to the left, and Eden followed it, the sound of Ares’ voice finally echoing and growing louder the closer he approached that direction.

“If you are squeamish, you should probably turn back. Wouldn’t want you jeopardizing the crime scene by yacking all over the place,” Ares said.

“Crime scene?” Eden kept going.

“That’s generally what a location where a kidnapping and murder taking place is considered to be.”

He hated that he gave no reaction to that. His steps didn’t falter. His breath didn’t hitch. Nothing. At least he didn’t grow excited or anything twisted, but still.

He used to be a good person.