Sylvester didn’t want to jump into conclusions just yet. He needed to gather all the information he could possibly need. That way, when he entered into the job, he wouldn’t be going in blind. “And here I thought this was a friendly reunion,” he sighed. “I’m sorry, Sylvester. It’s just that…she’s my all…I’d do anything for her.” Lincoln persuaded, even though Sylvester had agreed. He wanted to quell every doubt in his friend’s mind about protecting his daughter. “Aha. This should have been us getting a drink,” Sylvester psyched his friend up. Lincoln chuckled, but there was no humor in it. He ran a hand through his graying hair, exhaling slowly. “I wish it were. But my daughter’s life is on the line.” “Well, we’re going to need some intel, aren’t we?” “Yup. Give me a second. I’ll get my tablet and run you through the timeline.” “If you have a can of orange juice lying around, I’ll have that as well,” Sylvester shrugged. “I could use it.” Lincoln came back with the tablet and j

Nope.Emily hated it.Her husband set Katherine to watch over her, and every part of that arrangement pissed her off.Katherine…didn’t like her. It was obvious from the first time they met, but she seemed to make it even more obvious now.“Good morning, Miss Wright,” she hummed as she perched on the couch like she damn near owned the place.She always referred to her as ‘Miss’ deliberately feigning ignorance of her marital status. Emily thought it was stupid, since she still called her by Sylvester’s surname technically acknowledging her relationship. Emily didn’t bother to correct her.“Good morning, Katherine. Sleep well?”“Nope. Usually fighting and dealing with PTSD. You wouldn’t know…”“No, I wouldn’t,” Emily sighed. She wasn’t ready to exchange words, even though Katherine looked like she was in the mood.“I’ll be leaving for work. Make yourself at home, I guess.”“I’m coming with you,” Katherine stood up to follow her.“What?”“Master said to never let you out of my sight. I’m

Katherine was pissed, but at the same time, relieved. Emily had gone to bed. True, she had taken the day to annoy the living brains out of the young warrior, but Katherine survived. Emily could annoy her no more than a child annoyed their class teacher, and ultimately, it was left to her to focus on what could tip her over that edge, and what couldn’t. Katherine walked into the garden, the cool wind soothing her skin like a balm. She needed more than a few minutes alone, and it sucked that she could only get it at night, when her mind raced with both the need for sleep and the impure thoughts that only the darkness could bring. Now, at last, she had silence. Her eyes scanned the empty yard before she crouched near the edge of the flower bed, pulling her hair into a bun and exhaling slowly. The night air was thick, and oppressive, screaming the acknowledgement of her thoughts back at her. Thoughts she’d been trying to bury all day. Killing Emily. Not in a rash, messy way.

Sylvester’s voice was low but firm as he spoke into the phone, pacing the length of Lincoln’s study like a caged panther. “Geral, I need your best. This isn’t just a babysitting mission. We’re moving a target. On the other end of the line, Geral’s tone was sharp, alert. “Yes, boss. I hope Katherine isn’t in on this? She’s too reckless for jobs like these.” “No, she’s guarding my wife.” “Worse.” “I’ll be the judge of that.” Geral sighed. “Who are we moving?” “Lincoln’s family. His wife. His son. And Genevieve.” There was a pause, then a faint shuffle, the sound of boots on gravel. Geral was already on the move. “You want them out of the city?” “Out of the country,” Sylvester said. “I’ve already set the coordinates. You'll get a secure location once you're airborne. I need you and your team to keep them invisible until they're far from this mess.” “And you?” Geral asked. “I’m staying,” Sylvester replied. “With Lincoln. We’ve got work to do.” “You’re going to turn the city up

The door splintered inward with a violent kick, wood flying, and Sylvester charged through like the force he had promised to be. The two guards stationed beside Genevieve’s makeshift prison barely had time to raise their weapons before he was on them. One lunged at him with a dagger, but Sylvester ducked low, drove his elbow into the man’s ribs, and twisted sharply. Bones cracked, the sound followed by a gut wrenching scream. The other pulled a gun, but Sylvester, despite the dull ache in his side, moved faster. He grabbed a shard from the broken door and flung it like a dagger, striking the man’s hand. The weapon clattered to the floor. He pounced before the man could recover, sweeping his leg out and slamming him to the ground. A swift punch to the jaw ended the struggle. Breathing heavily, Sylvester turned to Genevieve. Her eyes widened as she took in his face, almost like she was looking at an angel. Sylvester tilted his head and flashed her a smile. “You came,” she whisper