Page 7

Titus POV

The sun was breaking over the horizon as the chaos of my thoughts finally began to clear.

But there was still no peace to be found in the aftermath.

I’d long since returned from my rampage, but the need to escape, to kill, still raged heavily through my veins.

Since it’d do Bianca little good for me to wreak havoc, I turned my attention to the one thing that did matter now.

I’d ripped apart my home, brick by brick, and when Damen had finally stopped me, there had been nothing left among the smoldering ash.

He, of course, said that it was a needlessly dramatic gesture.

But he was wrong. I would no longer need it—for right now and a long time coming, I would stay with her.

Even being away from her this long made me ready to lose my mind.

Julian alone was allowed to visit her, however, and all communication was banned.

So I had nothing left to distract me besides ruin and revenge.

As I sat in my office with the files and videos of evidence surrounding me, it was all I could do to contain the creature struggling to break free.

Only Damen’s presence somewhere nearby kept me focused.

How could this have happened?

Everything was sharper now as my instincts and emotions rose to the surface.

It was the shifter’s job—my job—to defend the fae from outside forces.

And it was my job in this life, specifically, to protect Bianca.

Mu had always been far more fragile than me, and his trusting nature had always given him a sense of vulnerability.

I was born first solely for this duty. This time, I’d failed.

I glared at the folders on my left. Maria had done an excellent job acquiring copies of the entire case—I wasn’t sure what strings she’d had to pull, but I didn’t care. Since she’d dropped them off, I’d spent the remaining time pouring through the painful words.

There are only two pieces of evidence left to check: two drives containing video files that I hadn’t been able to force myself to touch yet.

The evidence thus far had done little to reassure me—it was as bad as I’d imagined, and maybe even worse.

While there were many unknowns, the broad overview of Bianca’s situation painted a grim picture that I couldn’t get out of my mind.

In every case I’d been involved in—the mangled bodies in filthy rooms, and every person we did manage to save—I could now see only her.

How—how could he still be out there?

Damen entered my office without knocking.

“You said you found a video interview?” he asked.

He loosened his tie and slumped into a seat across my desk.

His eyes were red and bloodshot, and he hadn’t bothered to wash the blood off his hands.

I hadn’t been in the right mind to take note of it before, but when did he get into a fight? It must have been after I left .

“Yes,” I replied.

“We should wait for Julian and Miles,” Damen said, frowning at the files.

“We should,” I agreed. “But I don’t want to.”

“What about this?” Damen asked. He reached for one of the folders.

“They’re useless,” I warned him. I didn’t want him to get his hopes up.

“Useless?” he repeated, alarmed. He moved more quickly now and picked up one of the folders. He frowned after he opened it and began to thumb through the pages. “What?”

“Maria found them in the archives,” I told him.

“After Abigail was forced to retire, the team fell apart, and the investigation was dropped. There are a lot of redacted names, but the gist is that Bianca was adopted quickly without much legal involvement. I am not even sure how that was allowed to happen. Trinity was involved shortly after that and declared her medically unfit.”

“But—” Damen lowered the papers. “Didn’t Hanah say that Bianca had been questioned?”

“There’s no evidence here of that,” I answered. “It was done entirely off the books. Once Trinity got involved, she and Abigail conducted all the interviews on Bianca’s behalf. But—”

I swallowed, forcing back the pressure in my chest that threatened to break free. Damen was watching me, and I sensed he was waiting to intervene.

I had to have more control than this.

“—there’s enough information in there to start,” I answered. “Living conditions, some general information about the abuse, school reports, and even an address. However, they could not find any information about how Bianca came to be there, her medical history, or her prior life.”

Damen touched his head as his shoulders slumped. “They should have taken her to a specialist. She should have had a lot more help. Besides, I don’t know how the Griers were able to adopt her.”

“If they didn’t, then there’d be no way to hide it from the Council,” I pointed out. “They would have found out who she was.”

Damen froze before sucking in a breath. “I didn’t even consider that,” he said, dropping the folder closed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “So much should have gone differently.”

“We need to be careful,” I warned. “She’s not able to face them yet. She’s still…”

My attention returned to the recordings, and disgust rolled through me. My skin itched with the need to shift, to destroy, once more. I thought I’d been prepared, but reading ink on paper might be a very different experience than seeing something visually.

I snarled. It might make it that much more real.

Damen’s head jerked up, and he frowned at me. “Titus, you can’t. We have work to do.”

“I know that!” I snapped. Why was I struggling so much to keep control? “Let’s just get it over with—putting it off won’t change anything.”

Nothing would.

“Can you handle it?” Damen’s cautious gaze bore into me.

I could work through my anger—every detail became clearer, and my instincts were sharper this way. “I’ll be fine.” I set up my computer, forcing myself to touch one of the small drives.

Damen sucked in his breath, and I inserted the drive and swiveled the screen to where we both could see. A moment later, the video flickered to life, displaying the familiar sight of an interview room.

Sitting at the table was Abigail. She was younger there, and not quite as unhinged. Yet, as the interview continued, there was little to be discovered that hadn’t already been outlined in the paperwork I’d already memorized.

Damen was rubbing his forehead by the end, and I frowned at the screen. If the second drive’s files were as useless as this one, I wouldn’t be happy.

I switched them out, hoping that we’d get anything useful. Otherwise, I wasn’t sure where to start. We didn’t even know what kind of people ran this organization. Humans, necromancers, onmyoji, shifters, witches, or fae—all had criminal enterprises and worked differently.

I couldn’t imagine that the fae would be behind this. Not with Bianca’s involvement.

The video began, and this time, it was Trinity on screen.

Her hands were folded before her as she looked disapprovingly at the interviewer. The camera angled toward the back of his head. It was only possible to see that he was medium build and had black hair.

Yet the way he held himself seemed familiar. But I couldn’t place him, which was odd because my recollection of people was usually perfect.

Before I had a chance to think about it, the interview began.

“Can you state your name for the record?” he asked, his voice a flat monotone. And again, something about the man triggered memories I couldn’t grasp.

“Dr. Trinity Reed,” she said, still frowning at the man. “And as I’ve already told you, I have an obligation to my patients. You will not talk to her. It is against her best interests.”

“I don’t need a full interview,” the man countered. “I just want a few minutes—”

“No,” Trinity cut him off. If she could have shot flames from her eyes, the interviewer would have been a scorched spot on the floor. “You’ve ruined any chance you had when you left that idiot alone with her! She barely even talks to me now.”

“I will escalate if you keep obstructing this investigation,” he warned.

Trinity blinked, her anger momentarily giving way to surprise. “What exactly are you saying?”

“I do have the legal authority to speak with her,” he stated firmly. “I’m prepared to take you to court over this. I’ll involve the Council if I have to.”

“There’s no need for that,” she said, cutting him off again, though her tone had shifted. “Just tell me, what do you think she knows?”

“Oh, now you’re cooperative,” he said. “Then let’s see.

These are the facts: Four months ago, I sent my senior investigator to scope out a potential trafficking hub.

She reported that it was run by a man named Eric Richards.

Shortly after that, the same investigator went above my head and adopted the only witness I have in this case—your current patient—and then was forced to retire due to misconduct.

I’ve read the initial report and understand that questioning her needs to be handled with sensitivity.

But I need to know—we need to ask her—who is Eric Richards? ”

Trinity laughed. “She’s only eight. How is she supposed to know?”

“I know how it seems,” the man said coolly. “But she is our only lead.”

“Even if I agreed, which I don’t, she’s in no state to talk to you.

” Trinity watched the man warily. “No judge can force that. She is a child who has been severely abused.” She paused, and her mouth dipped before she continued.

“But, if you’re wondering if she knows Eric Richards’s contacts, then no. ”

The man’s fingers twitched. “You’ve assessed her?”

Trinity’s tight expression fell slightly. “Sometimes transference can’t be helped, especially in highly emotional situations. I will not read her though—sorting through the memories of traumatized individuals is too risky. But… you won’t accomplish anything by pursuing this.”