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As Hagen sat in the interview room at Nashville’s FBI Resident Agency headquarters a few hours later, an old feeling came over him. It coursed through his muscles and burned through his blood.

Revenge.

He wanted to take Tyra Scharf and tear her to pieces.

Rip her to shreds and keep tugging and ripping until there was no scrap that couldn’t be lifted away by a small gust of wind.

He wanted her gone, reduced to nothing. To less than nothing.

There should be no trace of her in the world, no sign she had ever infested their lives.

But here she is.

The murderous bitch sat on the other side of the table, in the standard gray sweatshirt and pants, the remains of her makeup still smeared across her face.

Her dyed black hair was pulled back but had partly come loose and hung over one cheek.

Her wrists were cuffed and chained to a loop in the table.

She cocked her head and half smiled. The expression was worse than a smirk, more than mockery. She reeked of satisfaction, of pleasure, and only a little of fear.

Stella rested her elbows on the table. “Why? Why did you kill them?”

Alessandra hadn’t been Tyra’s only victim that night. The two uniformed officers who were supposed to be protecting the place had apparently confronted her, one at a time, before she crossed paths with Alessandra. Tyra had left them dead in the copse of trees on the property.

Tyra flicked her head. A lock of raven-black hair flew behind her ear, then dropped forward again. Her hands were chained too close to the table to do anything about it.

“They got in my way. And she was there. That was all.”

“So you killed an FBI agent just because she was there?”

Tyra shrugged.

The fire in Hagen’s veins burned hotter. She was lying. Tyra hadn’t killed because Alessandra was simply available. She’d carved the cuneiforms into Alessandra’s skin. She had a motive.

Hagen folded his arms over his chest. He liked to show handcuffed suspects he could perform actions they couldn’t.

“Tell me about the kidnapping.”

Tyra’s half smile grew wider. “It was fun, wasn’t it? The fire. The ransom note. I spent the last few days at the Opryland Resort. So fun.”

Stella folded her fingers. “So you set the fire? Why? What were you trying to achieve?”

“A big blaze.”

Tyra giggled—light, sweet, almost musical. It belonged to a child with pigtails and sticky fingers, not the blood-streaked woman in front of them.

The sound died abruptly.

She leaned forward, metal clinking as the cuffs strained against the table’s edge. Her voice dropped to a hiss. “I wanted to see that room burn.”

Though his flesh crawled at the abruptness of her demeanor, Hagen kept his tone steady. “Your bedroom?”

“The room I grew up in. My old room. The room that created my old self. I’m not that girl anymore.

I wanted to destroy it all.” She dropped back into her seat.

Her handcuffs rattled. “The idea for the kidnapping came afterward. I just wanted to see if Daddy would pay…” another giggle, “if he lived. And I wanted to see if I could get the FBI’s attention. And I did.”

Yet another giggle slithered through the room—thin, high, too pleased with itself. It didn’t just echo in the air. It wormed its way into Hagen’s skull and stayed there.

He wanted to tear the table between them in two. He’d seen a lot of cruel, deviant behavior in his time, but he’d met few people who seemed to enjoy their evil deeds as much as Tyra Scharf. She was a monster.

“Do you know how much pain you’ve caused? To your father? Your stepmother?” He paused. His next words fell slowly. “To the family of the woman you murdered? To the families of the officers?”

Tyra flicked her hair away from her face again.

She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Won’t hurt for long anyhow.

” Her gaze darted back and forth between them, too bright.

“World’s going to end soon. The Day of Changing.

” She leaned forward, voice dropping into something breathy and reverent.

“Do you know how liberating that is? We can do anything we want. Nothing matters anymore.” A shiver of what he could only call glee rippled through her.

There it was again. The belief the world was about to end, and only the murderers and their victims would be redeemed. Hagen was sick of hearing this bullshit, sick of seeing its effect .

“What do you mean, ‘the world’s going to end soon?’”

“You don’t need me to explain anything.” She fixed her gaze on Hagen and bit the corner of her lip.

She looked as though she’d found a lost kitten and wanted to see what it would do before she drowned it.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.

I know who you are. I’ve seen your picture in the press.

You’re the pair who stopped the sacrifices in Pennsylvania and then here in Nashville. ”

“Sacrifices. Is that what you call them?”

“That’s what they are.”

Stella unfolded her fingers and dropped her hands below the table. The knuckles on her fists were white. “Is that why you killed today? Because you wanted to make a sacrifice?”

“Yes.” Tyra licked her lips, almost like she’d just savored a delicious meal. “Your friend was just unlucky. Or lucky. She’s redeemed now. I actually saved her.”

Hagen had to fight a burning desire to grab her, drag her back into her cell, and throw the key into a river.

Tyra slumped back in her chair, apparently exhausted.

Murder would do that to a person.

“I’m bummed, though. I didn’t even have time to take any pictures or anything. Nobody on the Dispatch group will know what I did. The Administrator’s not going to know.”

The Administrator. Hagen locked onto the new moniker. He didn’t want Tyra to know this was the first time he’d heard of the Administrator though. He wanted to draw out more information.

“I have a feeling the Administrator will figure it out.” He felt Stella shift her weight, but he kept his eyes on Tyra. “The Administrator seems to have a good sense of what’s going on. Don’t you think?”

“You think so?” Tyra leaned in slowly, elbows creaking on the table, voice dropping to a hush meant to sound intimate— conspiratorial . “He is…a genius. A true sage. We all know it. ”

“All?” Stella asked.

“All his acolytes, his pupils, his students. He’s taught me so much. The way to salvation.” Tyra seemed to float at the mere thought of this Administrator person. “He was right.”

“Right?” Hagen didn’t think he wanted to know what the Administrator was right about.

“About the sacrifice. I did enjoy it. Doing my part for the cause. And now I’ll be redeemed.” She flashed her widest smile yet. “And just in time.”

Hagen closed his eyes. He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t bear to see Tyra’s smugness, her lack of remorse. Alessandra wasn’t some sacrifice. She was dead because she’d been unlucky. Because she’d been doing her job.

But Tyra was talking. She wanted to show off, to demonstrate how much she knew, how much smarter she was than them. They could use that.

Slowly, Hagen took a deep breath and opened his eyes. “The Administrator, huh? You can’t piss him off. Sounds like you know him well.”

“We’re not that close. Yet.”

“But you’re closer than most.”

Tyra shrugged again.

Hagen raised his eyebrows, trying to seem impressed. “Yeah, I’m sure he’d notice you. Smart guy like him.”

“The Administrator is very smart. And the only person who matters.”

“That’s what we’re starting to understand. Guess you got there before us.”

Tyra rubbed the top of the steel loop binding her wrists to the table.

“Better late than never.”

“Is it? Just want to know what we’re getting ourselves into. You know him. Who is he?”

Tyra dropped back in her seat and flashed one final, clever smile. “No idea. No one knows. He’s like some mysterious prophet. He tells us what’s going to happen, and we know he speaks the truth. Told you. He’s a genius.”

Hagen leaned forward. “You know, we’d really like to meet him. Do you think you could get us access to that Dispatch group you’re a part of?”

There was a gleam in Tyra’s eyes. “I’ll never tell. Lawyer.”