The cold predawn air clawed at her, licking at the sweat dampening her skin and making her shiver. It had begun to snow, adding a fresh layer across the city. She breathed it in, letting the cruel fingers of winter burn into all her exposed skin and become a reminder that she’d made it. That Cyril had been wrong. That she wasn’t weak. The world of shadows and darkness hadn’t claimed her. She had fought and won. It was the greatest victory a person could ever accomplish and she had done it. Granted, not alone, but she had survived. More importantly, she hadn’t given up.

There was an almost skip to her steps as she hurried down the frozen plank onto the docks. Her boots thumped as she ran down the path in the direction of the lights ahead. It was far, but she didn’t stop. She pumped her legs and let the cold cut into her lungs like serrated shards of glass. The wood ended on icy dirt running alongside the frozen river. She ducked beneath a series of broken beams that had once been a bridge and kept running until she was at the incline leading up to a parking lot filled with cars and lights and voices.

“Miss Romero!” John jogged over to her, his coat flapping in the night like wings.

Juliette laughed and hurried to meet him halfway. She hugged him. She didn’t care that he tensed all over as though she’d suddenly grown a second head and tried to eat him. He was a sight for sore eyes.

He patted her awkwardly on the back before carefully detaching and taking a step away.

“It’s good to see you,” he said.

Juliette smiled. “Thank you for finding us.”

He looked away. “Didn’t do overly much, ma’am. But we’re glad you’re safe.”

“We?”

He stepped aside to reveal the other five figures silhouette against the headlights of a parked SUV. The sight of her little group brought tears to her eyes. It tightened the muscles of her throat until she couldn’t breathe. John took her elbow gently and guided her forward.

“You guys came.” The words came out in a strangled croak.

“Just doing our duty, ma’am,” Tyson murmured.

She embraced each of them in turn before stepping back and smiling sheepishly at their uncomfortable shifting.

“Thank you.”

There were nods, but no one spoke.

Jake finally stepped forward. “We have been given orders to take you to the hospital.”

Juliette didn’t protest. Going to the hospital was all part of the plan. It was where she needed to be if she was to save Killian and put Cyril behind bars. She let herself be guided to the SUV and helped inside the cozy interior. Jake climbed in behind the wheel while Melton claimed the passenger’s seat. John and Tyson squeezed in on either side of Juliette, flagging her. She wasn’t sure where Javier and Laurence went off to, but she suspected to get a second SUV to follow them.

Juliette relaxed against the warm leather. “Where’s Maraveet?”

“Miss Árnason insisted she be taken to the hospital,” Tyson answered.

Good! Juliette thought. Step one was complete.

“Where’s my sister? Has anyone checked on her? Is she all right?”

“Miss Romero will meet us at the hospital,” Jake assured her. “She’s been informed of your safe recovery and is on her way with Phil.”

Juliette exhaled. She lay her head back and closed her eyes.

It was over. It was finally over.

Chapter 29

Killian didn’t care what anyone said, hospitals were portals into limbo. It was the place tormented souls went to wait and wither to nothing. It was the place run by Satan and his white clad minions with their needles and sour faces. The whole lot of them made him want to strangle somebody, quite possibly the pissy little nurse who kept telling him to please wait. If he heard those two words one more time, he might forget his promise to Juliette not to commit anymore murders.

Square slabs of moonlight punched into the speckled linoleum between his feet. The brightness made his eyes water, but he continued to sit hunched over, elbows braced on his knees to study the glow. Around him, people went about their business, rushing in the way only people in the hospital did, with hurried strides and set faces. No one gave him a second glance. Overhead, some woman kept buzzing doctors to this room or that in a dry monotone drawl that grated on his nerves. Then there was the god awful stench of floor cleaner, antiseptic and misery. The latter was oddly the worst. It seemed to be pouring from the ceiling and oozing down the walls. Yet, he remained. He sat waiting for the elusive and possibly invisible doctor to finish twiddling his thumbs long enough to tell Killian Maraveet’s status. It had been hours and not a single person had gone in or out of those doors. Were they all taking a coffee break together?

He was just about to go harass the frazzled woman at the front counter again when the magical doors finally swung open and a nurse hurried out. Her head was bent over a clipboard, but she looked up, looked around and spotted him. Her small face lit up.

“Mr. Hutchinson?”

Killian glanced over his shoulder at the row of empty chairs. Then back at the woman, certain she had the wrong person.

“Sorry?”

Smile melting into uncertainty, the nurse peeked at her notes again. “Callum Hutchinson?”

It took him a second to connect Maraveet’s very clever dots, but he caught on quick enough and got to his feet.

“Aye?” He moved closer. “Is my…?” he trailed off, not sure what Maraveet had stated him as.

“Sister?” the nurse hedged carefully, like she wasn’t entirely sure either and wasn’t sure why he wasn’t sure.

“My sister, yes. How is she?” Killian said quickly.

Blue eyes dropped down to the forms in her hands. “The doctors just left her after running multiple tests to make sure there was no internal damage. They did several x-rays and blood work that hasn’t come in yet, but—”

“Is my sister all right?” he cut in.

She smiled. “She’ll be fine. She’s banged up a little, but nothing to be worried about. The police are in there with her now, but if you—”

Killian stiffened. “The police?”

Her smile faded. “Yes, she insisted we call—”

He moved past her and charged through the doors, ignoring her when she called after him. It took several aggravating minutes of searching before he found her, nearly at the end of a very long hallway.

Sure enough, there were two police officers standing at her bedside, both in full uniform. Maraveet sat propped against a mountain of pillows while she listened to whatever the shorter of the two was saying. He expected her to be in cuffs, but they were talking to her as though she were the victim. In a sense, she was, but if they knew who she was, the situation would change very quickly.

“And you didn’t recognize the men?”

Maraveet shook her head. “No.”

“Is there anything else you can tell us?” the taller one asked.

“No, I’m sorry.”

“And the other woman?”

“Juliette? They brought her in a couple of weeks ago.”

“And you didn’t know her before then?”

“No.”

The shorter one jotted her response down while his partner continued to ask his questions. Maraveet was light on her answers, sticking to yes and no and only giving short explanations when absolutely necessary. Her posture was relaxed, but he could just make out the slight twitch in her fingers. He had no idea what she was playing at, but it was a dangerous game calling the police in. He was stunned that she would. Maraveet hated the police and they hated her with good reason; criminals and cops would never see eye to eye.

“Thank you.” He tucked his notepad away and the two took a step away from the bed. “We’ll keep in touch if we hear anything else.”

Killian ducked out of the doorway and made his way to a bulletin board against the far wall. He kept his back turned until the clip of footsteps faded somewhere in the opposite direction. Once certain they weren’t coming back, he stepped into Maraveet’s room and shut the door behind him.